A wave of the wendigo’s hand pulled all darkness from Niana’s body and dress, leaving dark purple stains wherever it had once touched. He extended a clawed hand, and slapped her backwards, knocking her onto the smooth obsidian of Mont St Michel. Niana couldn’t feel the blow, nor could her brain process any pain. Too much of her precious blood had been spilt, for holy magic only purified, it did not heal wounds. Bandages or stitches were required, a lesson she had learned from Matimeo.

  Wiyaga hovered over her, pulling up her intact leg, until her dress fell higher. In a way, this girl reminded him of before. Of his own daughters. How they starved to death because he failed to provide. One hard winter undid his mortal life. None of the men or women he’d once healed had given him food. Any of them could have saved his family, yet they refused him. Lying about not having any extra grain. Not even a a spare fruit. He hated them. Hated being reminded of them. Hated this girl!

  As if to mirror his mind the sky cracked, a boom ripping through the world. Demons scattered, leaving their Alpha to his prey.

  Claws tore off her leg, stuffing the limb into Wiyaga’s skinless maw. She was delicious. He wolfed it down, quickly returning for seconds and thirds. Yet she did not cry out, Not even when claws opened her ribs, cutting through them to reach her heart. Of all organs, this was most precious, and Wiyaga savored it for long moments, finally satisfying the ageless hunger. Power rippled though his body, altering the elder Wendigo into a being far greater than his current form, for Pandora was pleased with him. Satisfied that some servant of evil had finally struck against the accursed Lightning Lord, finally avenged her fallen body. Now Wiyaga stood twelve feet tall, six antlers rising from his naked skull, but his body was perfected, rippling muscle, and most importantly a doubling of his mystic arts. He laughed, roaring a laughter to chill the hearts of all who remained in Mont St Michel. Children buried their faces, mothers wept, all the while promising to protect them from harm. Reassuring their children even as the signal was sent to the butchers. Before the last man fell, every throat would be cut by an expert of cold steel. Better to perish in peace than die at the hands of Pandora’s servants and be twisted into a mockery.

  The sky cracked again.

  Wiyaga looked up from his meal, turning to face the sound. It was distinct, similar to the sound the thunderbirds of the plains made on their ascension to heaven, when they crossed the world faster than lightning.

  Liam would’ve called it a sonic boom. For it was a simple scientific phenomenon of an object forcing itself to move faster than the air could accommodate it’s passage, which forced the entire medium to ripple. A common occurrence for fighter jets, though it was a bit too bumpy for passenger planes. Not to mention the fuel costs were astronomical, far in excess of reason. Because doubling your airspeed more than quadrupled your fuel consumption, as if the world itself was trying to prohibit the breaking of its laws.

  Laws which Tufan Biliam Alhusam could not give a single fuck about.

  —

  Liam’s elven eyes took in the city, seeing the wendigo swallow Niana’s heart long before he was within range to alter her fate. His jaw clenched. Wind rippled around him as he flew, tearing through the sound barrier.

  He was too late.

  For a second time in his life he watched a woman he loved die. Arriving with the power to save her mere moments too late. A cold rage settled on the world. Clouds froze, leaves wilted from green to brown in an instant. Liam inhaled, not just air, but all mana within a mile’s radius. And something tugged back. Immediately overridden by the master of mana. He pulled harder, more precisely aiming. Flies and animals died, demons shuddered, and a second sun blossomed above Mont St Michel. Rising above Liam as all mana converted to furious lightning. It hummed and crackled, wishing to be ordered. Yet he held it in place, dominating the lightning as only a prophet of Taloc could. With a thought he sent the orb over the forest, raining lightning down on all invaders. Eager to be unleashed the lightning figured it out and chained between demons, monsters, hellhounds and everything in between. A thousand or ten thousand did not matter. For lightning slew them all, annihilating the invaders and continuing for fifty miles, slaying all enemies of Taloc before its power dwindled and faded into nothing.

  Except for one being, whom Liam ordered to be spared.

  He flew to the gate of fire, landing atop the obsidian battlement. Everything was covered in a thick black goo, like sludge or tar. Good for repairing roads, and quite disgusting when most the city was made of monolithic obsidian. Tall as he was, the wendigo had to look up to face Liam. Teeth ground together, both men sizing up the other.

  “You killed my child.” Whispered Liam, his voice carrying through the silent city like a cocked trigger.

  Almost inperceptible, yet entirely unmissable.

  Wiyaga didn’t bother trying to talk. He summoned a holy ward in front of himself, then channeled his dark affinity into a shadowstep, lunging for the shadows between homes. This was not an opponent he could fight. More magi would need to be consumed, he would have to grow stronger, collecting more affinities. One more step and the shadows would teleport him away. His arms and head entered. Then his shoulders and antlers, all of Wiyaga melded into the shadows, vanishing without a trace. He’d escaped, conquered his hunger and escaped alive, life was worth living again!

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  “That’s a neat trick, but you’re not the first to show it off.” Said Liam, dumping the wendigo onto the obsidian street. “Annoyed me so much I developed new countermeasures.”

  Wiyaga blinked, unable to grasp what was happening. For a father, this mage was impossibly calm, he should be spitting and screaming and howling in terror.

  “What kind of monster are you?” Wiyaga whispered.

  “The kind that slays gods.” Answered Liam, snapping his right thumb and forefinger.

  Wiyaga felt his body snap, all flesh melting away as his skull suddenly tightened, gray matter squirted out of his orifices, antlers folding down and backwards, twisting together to form a dozen spears. Then they slid into his back, his entire skeleton intertwining as he was unmade. Atoms broke then fused, melding together until the eldest wendigo, first abomination of its kind clattered to the obsidian, no more than a staff of bones.

  Liam wasn’t finished, the wendigo’s flesh was abhorrent, yet ancient. Disgusting, yet exactly the refined medium he needed to work with. It flowed over the ground, covering Niana, rebuilding her body and expunging all poison. The culmination of all his healing, of the tens of thousands he had healed, had prepared him for this moment. But a body required a soul. An organ so precious that not even Taloc dared to alter them.

  But Pandora was foolish enough to try.

  Unlike the first time Liam had entered Mont St Michel, he possessed the [Mana Domiation] skill, a hidden talent, locked behind ten long levels of [mana manipulation]. Probably some ill thought out patch left behind by Taloc’s kidnapped programmer friend. A way to overcome the alien system’s apparent limitations.

  Liam called upon that skill now, extending his order to the something that lingered withing Mont St Michel’s walls.

  “Pandora, I know you’re waiting, wake up bitch. Cast aside your life of violence, and become the mother of rain you always were.” Said Liam.

  If the earth could have screamed, it would have. Such was the disgust that all things felt at Pandor’as presence.

  “Did you enjoy my revenge? I know her flesh was delicious.” Laughed Pandora, her obsidian head speaking.

  Liam pulled on the walls, throttling the obsidian demon. “You are a pox, a blight upon the world, and not the essence of Pandora. There is no need to fight. No revenge to win. Give up, be the mother of life and not the whore of plagues.”

  She cackled, a sound like a million serpents fornicating in his eardrums.

  “I’ll do this to every one of your precious family–”

  Liam yanked on the dark mana within the city, pulling hard enough that Pandora’s soul began to peel away, no longer locked within obsidian.

  “Pandora, there is no need for violence. You resurrected yourself, show me how to resurrect my daughter, and I will permit you into the world once more.”

  “You don’t have the power!” Shouted Pandora’s golden head.

  “I slew you once.”

  “With ten thousand years of mana spent! Or did you forget your precious black cats!” Snapped the obsidian head.

  “Pandora, only the mother of rain has the power to return a soul, my offer is for you alone. Not for your bloodlust or for your facsimile of vengeance. Raise my daughter, and I will bring you back into the world, not as an enemy, but as part of Taloc’s Pantheon.” Said Liam.

  Once more he tightened his grip on the city, pulling until the ink left the walls, revealing the beautiful blue sapphire it was originally constructed of. Two heads screamed, obsidian howling and cursing, promising to end Liam’s line, while the yellow head raved and ranted, promising destruction upon Taloc. But the third head went unspoken.

  Liam pulled again, ripping the black from the walls, and peeling five years of sacrificed monsters away from Pandora’s grasp.

  “Refuse me, and I will share the method to purify your bones. No obsidian fortress will accept your commands when I am done. Choose now, mutual oblivion, or will you return to the mother of rain!” Demanded Liam, unsure if he could truly erase the only being capable of resurrecting Niana.

  A quiet voice whispered, so small it was very nearly lost within the cacophony of screeching heads. But Liam heard it, and obeyed.

  “You already have the power.” It whispered. “Only the soul is missing.”

  “Of course, and you don’t have that soul.” Muttered Liam, pulling on the power of Mont St Michel until all obsidian in the city was purified, leaving sapphire roads and walls, and a glimmering citrine Chapel. Though it sparkled more than any of Liam’s so called ‘Crystal Palaces’. A true beacon of light to guide humanity through the wars to come.

  ‘Hey, Quetzalcoatl, connect me to the big man.’

  ‘Do I look like a sexy phone operator to you?’ Snapped the snake.

  ‘Nyota told me your little secret. Help me raise my daughter, and you might just get your mom back.’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Said Quetz, somehow adding Taloc’s mind to their own.

  “Taloc, send Niana’s soul back to me.” Said Liam.

  “That’s not how it works! There has to be a dead body, freshly killed, and it takes a whole lot of work to fix it up once the soul gets all wrinkly–” He paused, assessing Liam’s location. “Oh, ah, fine, I’ll ask. Heaven’s a nice place though, don’t be surprised if she says no.”

  Liam floated down, landing next to Niana and laying her head upon his lap, never doubting what she would choose.

  “Niana, come home, let Matimeo fart around for a bit.” He whispered.