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There was a sound like nothing I had ever heard before. Like waves breaking on a beach. Like the shattering of glass.
Then it was over.
The grail lay cut asunder. Its light had gone out.
A cry pierced the air. Not of suffering or pain, but elation.
I turned towards Zorya and saw her form beginning to flicker.
She was dissolving.
The sound of the grail breaking had faded away, but now a new one came in its stead.
The chamber was vibrating and rumbling. The stones beneath our feet were shaking once more.
A low roar built from the depths of the chasm. A primal sound that filled the air with fury.
Something was coming. Something angry.
I realized Draven was still watching me. Meeting his gaze, I saw him quickly wipe the expression from his face. Awe. Shock.
Then there was only concern. He reached out to grip my arm as the bridge shook harder.
My sword still out, we braced ourselves for the arrival of whatever was coming up out of the deep.
The rumbling grew louder.
A creature of nightmares loomed into view. Its massive form was shrouded in an inky veil, tendrils of darkness swirling and coalescing around its monstrous frame. Eyes gleaming with a baleful light pierced through the blackness, fixing upon us with a hatred that sent shivers down my spine.
With a guttural growl that sent heavy stones from the ceiling crumbling downwards, it moved towards us.
I stared at the creature. It was a being of pure darkness, a twisted counterpart to the fiery goddess.
Clearly it was seeking retribution for the destruction of the grail. My father must have sensed what we had done and sent this minion to punish us.
Only one thing could cast out the dark.
I lifted my hands to call upon flames.
My palms out, I shot fire forwards.
Only, nothing happened.
My brow furrowing in concentration, I tried again, waiting for the blaze to extend from my fingertips and dance towards the demonic creature of darkness.
Nothing.
Beside me, Draven was watching.
He raised his own hands, thrusting them forwards. I knew what he was doing. Would it work?
Nothing came forth. No flames. No fire. No spark of heat.
He tried again, opening his palms and creating a sword of shadows, larger than any I had seen him make before.
Lifting into the air, he swung it just in time as the creature lowered a dark, swirling arm towards us in a sweeping motion.
Draven’s shadow sword hit the arm. I watched him clench his jaw and brace his feet, struggling to stay upright as the strength of the creature pushed against him.
