But most of all, she remembered what it was like to love and be loved, to live each day knowing that no matter what might happen, she would remain strong, that the strength she held inside her was not hers alone, but a gift to be shared with everyone she loved.
Aully chanted, and a raging stream of fire leapt from her hands. It was thicker than those created by the other spellcasters, even the man in green. The stream arced through the air, blazing through the monster’s horns and lashing against its face like a crashing wave. The beast dropped down on all fours and turned its head to the side, seemingly wounded. Aully heard Turock utter, “That was unexpected.”
To her left, Kindren’s winding electrical charge zapped across empty space and struck the creature in the shoulder. The massive thing shrugged it off and took a hurtling step toward the soldiers clustered in the middle of the open ground. The men shrieked and tried to retreat, tripping over one another. The monster threw back its head and opened its hinged mouth. The horns that extended in front of its maw swung out wide like an insect’s mandibles.
“It’s going to eat them!” Aully cried.
Instinctively, she reached out and grabbed Kindren’s hand, in that hurried moment not caring it was his mangled one. She slid her fingers around the stumps of his. She squeezed her eyes shut, quickly mouthing the words of a spell she had never used. She felt Kindren’s inner strength, his connection to the weave, and then her eyes snapped open. Still chanting, she watched the ground in front of the soldiers rise and fold over, the solid bedrock beneath the cliff ’s surface forming a stone shield that curled atop the fumbling men. The beast’s head came down, maw cracking against the earthen shield with a solid crunch. The mandible-like horns snapped shut, wrapping around the shield and skewering two men, but the deed had been done. With the monster dazed, if only for a second, the soldiers were given their opportunity to flee. They scattered across the rocky field in all directions.
“More!” Turock shouted. “No relenting!”
The spellcasters, along with Aully and Kindren, continued their assault. Other Dezren stepped forward, joining with the others, their magics weak. But at least they were trying. The creature dislodged itself from the earthen barricade, shook its head, and was thrown into a rage. It lashed out at the soldiers on horseback that circled it even as its hide was pummeled with magical attacks. Two men died, then four, then another six, their armor shredding as easily as their flesh beneath the monster’s claws. The blood of men filled the air.
“The spells-they aren’t strong enough!” hollered Kindren, launching a weak salvo of energy at the beast.
“I know!” Aully said.
The creature rumbled to the right, using its tusks to knock men off their horses. No more arrows fell toward it-the elves had likely exhausted their supply-and the magical attacks were pathetic. The spellcasters were growing tired. Aully herself was drained almost to the point of collapsing. Finally, when she uttered the words and flicked her fingers, nothing happened. Her magic was gone.
Now unimpeded, the demon turned about and hurtled toward them. The throng of elves behind Aully shuffled backward. Screams filled the air as a few of them backed up too far, plummeting off the edge of the cliff, their bodies crunching when they hit the rocks below. The soldiers on horses, who had been attacking the beast, turned tail and fled. The demon’s eyes were like liquid fire, growing larger by the second, radiating both hatred and hunger. Aully grabbed Kindren and turned, running toward the lip of the cliff, searching for her mother. Lady Audrianna gathered the two youths in her embrace, and all three knelt down on the uneven, rocky soil.
“Goddess above,” said Aully’s mother, “we give our lives to you, to protect and hold once we reach your side.”
“I love you all,” Aully said.
Kindren squeezed her tight. “Always and forever.”
The demon howled, sounding much too close, and though Aully didn’t want to look, she did anyway. The beast veered to the side, a rope around its neck. Aully’s eyes followed the length of the rope, which ended in the hand of brave Ceredon, standing atop a galloping horse. The elf then jumped, dangling by the rope, holding on for dear life as the demon swung its head and him along with it. The beast skidded to a halt, the hail of rock and other earthen fragments bombarding the cowering elves as its claws dug into the ground. The demon swiped at Ceredon, knocking him around like a pendulum, until the rope broke and the elf fell to the ground. Defiant, he scampered back to his feet, ripped the shortsword the human woman had given him from his belt, and hurled it at the beast. The sword ricocheted harmlessly off the creature’s snout.
“Darakken!” the elf shouted, shaking an angry fist at the beast. “You want a meal, you devour me!”
The demon reared back, its tusks retracting once more, and then a mouth filled with giant teeth lurched toward the lone, defiant elf.
Aully tore away from Kindren and ran, knowing she would never get there in time, knowing there was nothing she could do even if she did. Kindren tackled her from behind.
“Ceredon, no!” she screamed.
Ceredon dropped to his knees, his head back as the demon’s maw rapidly descended on him. He couldn’t help but smile. It hadn’t mattered what anyone had done, how brave any of the soldiers had been in defending their lives. It didn’t matter how much magic they threw at the beast, how many arrows plinked against its hide. In the end, it was Boris Marchant’s version of the story of how the evil thing was defeated before that told him all he needed to know. Because of that, he finally understood the true meaning behind the words Celestia had whispered to him in Dezerea. Become the mountain.
A mountain is resilient. A mountain stands unmoving and accepts whatever abuse nature brings upon it without complaint. A mountain offers up its surface as a sacrifice for all the creatures that call it home.
The descent of Darakken ceased.
The ground rumbled beneath Ceredon’s knees, shaking him to the core, but he didn’t move. He kept his gaze up, staring at the ancient demon as its fiery red eyes widened. It huffed, casting down a gust of breath that reeked of smoke and rotten meat. The thing then reared up on its hind legs, pawing at its chest.
Ceredon looked on in astonishment as the ground rose up around the beast, swallowing its hooves, its reverse-jointed knees. The earth rumbled once more, and Ceredon finally scurried backward as lances of stone burst from the ground, pointed tips driving into the demon’s hide, shattering its scales, making it bleed. Demon’s blood, Ceredon thought as he put more distance between himself and the demon. Elf’s blood.
Spires continued to break out of the soil. One lanced Darakken’s shoulder. One broke through its clawed hand and exited the other side before embedding in its neck. One punctured its back, extending outward until it punched through the creature’s neck as well. The demon struggled, gurgling in pain, but only succeeded in thrusting the earthen spears deeper into its body.
Soon, at least a hundred of those granite lances locked the demon in place, bent upright. The blood continued to gush from each and every wound, but the flow slowed, the blood seeming to harden as it rolled over its scales, as if it were turning to mud, then clay, then solid granite. Its struggles diminished as well, and there was an audible creak each time a limb bent. The area beneath the demon’s scales, where its heart should have been, began to glow, and Ceredon swore he saw the darkened outline of a book in the center of the light. That light was soon covered over by a thick glob of soil-like blood that oozed from the demon’s throat.