317) The Salvation of Eden, Chapter 81 — Redemption, Faith, and Love

Gorb stood alone, shaking, tears streaming down his cheeks as he faced the undeniable truth of his lust, his anger, his greed and hunger. His eyes burned with desire, but something else as well, a twinkle that was all his, and only his.

“Me Grrrannie warrrned me 'bout people like ye!” he yelled at the Demon, spittle spraying out of his mouth. “Said yerrr all bum an' parsley! Now away wit' ye and bile yerrr 'ead!”

Lenny burst out laughing, immediately snapping out of her trance. “Bum an' parsley!” she roared, slapping her knee. “Bile yerrrr 'ead!” Within moments, everyone else was laughing too, the camaraderie of hilarity replacing their desperate wantonness.

Gorb smiled broadly, picking up his shield, his confidence growing by the moment. “Ye kinna tempt us! Begone, Demon!” A burst of intense white light flashed from his shield, blinding everyone for a few seconds.

As their vision cleared, they saw the creature, finally revealed in its true form (they assumed) — a reptilian, lithe, extremely muscular body, long, barbed tail, holding a whip in one clawed hand, and a flaming red sword in the other.

“Seriously?” Lenny managed.

“You are not Heirs,” the lizard-creature hissed, its voice low and grating like boulders rubbing together inside a glacier. “For millennia, I have been forced to give guidance to the Zhaalmohhrian Heirs. Now, you have broken the Cycle. For that, I am grateful.” She bowed.

“Errrr, yerrr welcome?” Gorb answered uncertainly, wondering if this was some kind of trick.

But it wasn't. Apparently even Demon-lizards have some appreciation for basic manners.

Then she spoiled it. “But now, you must die. It is the Law.”

“It’s always the damn LAW!” Lenny yelled, and out of her hands burst a massive FrostBolt like a horse at full gallop, right at the creature’s face.

Except the Bolt sailed through nothing, coating the wall behind in a large patch of ice.

  From several feet to the left of its former position, the Demon's long whip snaked out, wrapping around Melkorn who was lunging forward with his axe. The infernal creature's tail followed instantly, its wicked stinger stabbing into Melkorn’s throat. The big man sunk to his knees, his eyes a milky white. He didn't even fall, just sunk to his knees and stayed that way, like a small tree.

Gorb and Grok were on the Demon in a flash, but everywhere they attacked, they missed, hitting nothing while it struck back from a different position.

Gorb stumbled backward, blood spurting from his neck.

The familiarity hit Kohra in a flash. “It's like the Reaper!” she shouted.

“The pottery!” Dominic cried and he and Reilly started grabbing vases and bowls as fast as they could, hurling them in the Demon’s general direction.

Melkorn and Devona both rose to their feet, eyes pure black, and moved in front of the Demon, blocking as many of the vases as they could. The whip snaked out, wrapping around Dominic’s throat, yanking him hard to the floor, his eyes bulging, face turning red as his fingers clawed uselessly at his neck.

“RRRRAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!” Reilly screamed, picking up an entire crate of pottery and launching herself, and it, straight at Melkorn.

The big man smashed the crate with his axe, shattering the pottery into countless shards.

Behind him, the Demon shimmered as it was pelted with the debris. In that split-second, Lenny grabbed Kohra's and Devona's hands, and they Connected. Lenny screamed, a wave of white-hot plasma vomiting out of her mouth, wooden crates bursting into flame all around them.

The creature barely reacted in time. But it simply reached out with one clawed hand and…caught…Lenny’s blast, firing it right back at the three of them, energy-beams spraying from its claws.

Lenny fell with a cry. Kohra was hit in her stomach and shoulder, her flesh searing, but she managed to stay on her feet, Devona right beside her.

The Demon swung its sword, bathing the entire room in an arc of flame. Kohra hit the floor, barely ducking underneath it.

Devona stood her ground.

“DEV!!!” Kohra screamed.

But Dev wasn't burning, the flames flowing past her harmlessly. She was...she was doing something Kohra had never seen before. She didn't recognize any of the hand gestures.

“No!” the Demon snarled, snapping her whip toward Devona's head. Melkorn's axe got there first, the whip wrapping around the axe handle, lighting it on fire. Melkorn’s eyes were still glazed, his throat spilling blood, but he was fighting back. He wrenched the axe toward himself with a mighty heave.

The Demon pitched to the side, surprised, sword now swinging at Melkorn's head. “I thought you were dead!” she snarled. Incredibly, he blocked the swing with his axe, but fell over from the force of the blow, flat on his back, arms askew, his strength finally spent.

Grok slammed head-first into the creature's torso, stabbing upward with her long-dagger, the black Blade of Falcor seeking to claim another life in its long and impressive history. The Demon reared back, hissing in pain and shock, then struck with her sword, straight at Grok’s chest. The old woman stood her ground, letting her breastplate absorb as much of the blow as it could before her body took the rest, and simultaneously, stabbed forward again, burying her blade deep in the Demon's abdomen, dark blue ichor spilling onto the floor.

The creature spat blood in Grok's face, hissing, cursing, tail stabbing from behind. It missed, hitting her shoulder-plating, but the poisonous barb grazed her neck as it ricocheted. Her eyes glazed over instantly, but she held on, resisting with every ounce of will she possessed, her heart exploding, screaming as she dug the dagger in deeper, thrusting it through sinew and muscle, and with her last moments of life, she emptied her entire soul into the Flux-field that had been her hands for so long, blasting it forward, stabbing the dagger deeper into the Demon’s torso. And she felt it, felt her blade finally pierce its core, and heard the sucking gasp as its spirit collapsed.

Grok stood for just a moment, covered in dark blue ichor, Falcor’s Blade hovering in front of her. Then they both fell, her body hitting the floor with a dull thud while the dagger clanked against the stone. Beside them, the creature’s body hissed and smoked as it rapidly turned to dust.

Gorb dropped to his knees, cradling Grok with one arm, his other raised upward, reaching desperately for the Light, praying, begging for a miracle.

The still-young-looking old woman’s smile was tight through her haze. “You can't Heal this,” she whispered. Her eyes were dimming. “My Friends.” Pain contorted her face and she gasped. She felt Reilly holding her arm and for a moment, saw the little girl above her, crying.

She smiled.

“Love.”

And she was gone.

* * * * *

Kohra stared around in shock. The creature was nothing but a small stain of ash on the floor. Grok was dead, Gorb weeping, still cradling her body in his arms, Reilly still holding her arm like she was expecting her to wake up at any moment. Devona was on her knees beside them.

Melkorn was still flat on his back, his chest rising and falling like he was asleep.

And Dominic? DOMINIC!!

She rushed over and turned him onto his back, putting her cheek to his mouth; he was breathing. She brushed his hair with her fingers, calling softly, “Dominic? Hey, Dom? Dom?” His eyes struggled open.

“Did we win?” he whispered.