He battered his axe through the next karron attack, taking off both pincer and spike limb. His song was taken up by throats all around the college. It was a song of defiance that spoke of endurance and the glory of death. It didn't allow for fear.
Tessaya raised his blade to strike again. A flaming body fell screeching from the sky, landing among the karron just ahead of him. Even through the curtain of fire, he recognised Drenoul. For a moment, the attack faltered. The demon master's squeals upset their rhythm, disrupting the flow of calls from the reavers.
Tessaya didn't care why Drenoul had died. He saw opportunity.
Yelling a forward order he ploughed into the confused enemy. The karron, dull of mind, had stalled completely.
His axe swung, taking the head from an enemy. He used the purity of the cut to set up an unstoppable rhythm of pace and strike. Spells erupted outside of the college, mages taking advantage of the moment.
The Wesmen roared, sensing the change. They advanced quickly, chopping through an enemy that didn't back off before them. Overhead, reavers circled but their calls were altered. It couldn't just be put down to Drenoul's death.
Tessaya paused and stepped back, wiping gore from his face. He took a breath. Around him, his lieutenants signalled the halt. Overhead the wind picked up, blowing around the courtyard. Abruptly, the slit in the sky guttered. A green light flashed within the white. The wind blew harder, like the gales of the One magic. But only for an instant. With a report like the crack of an avalanche breaking, the slit blanked out.
Silence but for the sound of reaver wings. It lasted only for a few heartbeats before the winged demons set up mournful cries. They spiralled skywards towards the glorious emptiness that had been the basis of their power. They cried in panic and loss, flocked with the strike-strain and keened across the heavens rudderless.
In front of Tessaya the karron stood mute. Limbs hung limp, resting on the ground. Eyes were dim and confused. He could hear their rasping breathing. They didn't even have the sense to try and run. Around the college, his warriors engaged in slaughter. Songs of triumph reverberated around the grounds. Chants of victory, voices of conquest.
Tessaya didn't join them. He stepped away from the carnage and turned to Suarav, a great weariness settling on him.
'I didn't believe they'd do it,' he said.
'Never underestimate The Raven,' said Suarav.
Tessaya laughed and clapped Suarav on the back. 'Or a Xeteskian soldier who fights like a warlord.'
'It was an honour to fight with you, my Lord.'
'And I with you, Easterner.'
The two men walked together towards the tower complex. At every pace, Wesmen roared his name and raised their weapons in
salute. He acknowledged them all but though he smiled, he couldn't accept the triumph. Not yet.
The scene around him was charnel. So many warriors lay dead. So many elves lay with them. And the Xeteskians who had come to join the last defence lay among them, most of them. It left every faction so weak. None of them had the strength to push onto dominion now. Tessaya wasn't sure he had the will left anyway.
Dystran and Vuldaroq were coming down the steps towards them. Both wore expressions of exhausted disbelief.
'Congratulations, Lord Dystran,' said Tessaya. 'A late entrance to the fight but effective.'
Dystran inclined his head. 'The plaudits are all yours, Lord Tessaya. I am shamed by my outbursts.'
'You'll learn,' said Tessaya. 'If you live long enough.'
'I wonder if it's really all over,' said Vuldaroq.
They all followed his gaze. Demons still thronged the sky. Wes-men and mages destroyed those unable to take sanctuary in the air.
'Inevitably, time will tell,' said Dystran.
'Meantime,' said Tessaya. 'We all have a great deal to discuss.'
'Yes,' said Dystran, his smile almost sickeningly grateful. 'Indeed we do.'
Thraun had pushed Denser aside and scooped Erienne into his arms before anyone else blinked.
'Put her down,' ordered Hirad over his shoulder. 'You can't help her now.'
The demons closed on them quickly. The Raven backed off across the floor and over the dais, at least denying their enemy rear attack. Still, there was no way out.
'She's not dead,' growled Thraun.
'Don't be stupid, Thraun,' said The Unknown.
'Honour her,' said Rebraal. 'Take down some of those who brought about her death.'
'She's not dead.'
Hirad glanced again. He saw her eyelids flicker.
'Oh Gods be hanged, he's right. Denser, get in line and get casting. Let's buy ourselves some time.'
'What difference will it make,' muttered Denser.
Hirad turned back to face the enemy that already outnumbered them at least thirty to one.
'Because for one thing, The Raven is not going anywhere meekly and for another, every beat we give her means she might wake. And if she does, anything is possible.'
The Unknown tensed and took a pace forward and shouted into the growing din.
'Form up, Raven!'
New hope pulsed through them. Hirad stood by The Unknown. Thraun laid Erienne down behind him and snarled at the advancing demons. Ark took up his position left. The TaiGethen paced to the right-hand side, affording Erienne more protection, Rebraal with them. And behind, Eilaan and Denser prepared.
The demons were close now. Karron spread across the floor. Reavers, their skin rippling with colour and vein, chattered and called to marshal, their forces. Albinos loped to each flank. They moved in, desire for vengeance almost a taste in the air.
'Well,' said Hirad in The Unknown's earshot. 'It gives us something to do.'
The Unknown smiled down at him.
'One more time, Hirad Coldheart?'
'One more time, Unknown. Sol.'
The two men touched gauntlets. The Unknown's blade tapped against the floor, metronomic, comforting. It echoed around the edifice.
'Ready, Raven,' he called. 'Pick your targets. Mages, tell us when to duck. Good luck everyone. Let's leave them with a few bad memories, eh?'
The karron hung back, leaving the reavers to attack alone.
'Bastards want our souls,' said Hirad.
'There's a lot of pain between now and then,' said Thraun.
'Down,' said Denser.
They complied. Both mages cast. Eilaan's FlameOrbs described a shallow arc to land in the midst of the karron. Denser's IceWind blew straight into the first of the advancing reavers.
In the enclosed confines of the edifice, the wails and screams tore at Hirad's ears and the stench of burned demon flesh assailed his nostrils, overpowering the clean frost of Denser's supercooled air.
Reavers dropped to the ground in front of them, shattering on impact. The mass packed and surged backwards, leaving a hole where the karron burned.
Hirad grinned. 'We're The Raven, bastards!' he shouted. 'Who's next to die, eh? Who really wants us?'
'Tell me you've got more of those, Denser,' said The Unknown.
'One or two.'
The demons gathered. Reaver calls bounced from walls and ceiling. Albinos scampered past the karron. Strike-strain massed and flew in and the mages cast again. Eilaan's ForceCone swept a swath of strike-strain from the right-hand flank. Denser's second IceWind ripped into the reavers. But this time, the rest didn't pause. While the karron blocked any hope of escape, reavers and albinos attacked.
The Unknown's blade ceased tapping and the final fight began. Hirad thrashed his sword into the body of an albino, sending the creature spinning backwards. He stood tall as reavers crowded in. A tail whipped into his legs. He responded with a circular strike that dragged through wing membrane and sinew. The reaver crashed down but already the wounds were healing.