And then Thraigg was roaring, Evander having materialized in the same spot he’d disappeared from. As if rather than stepping through the shadows, he’d simply been...hiding in them.
Disgust and alarm mixed in Cedric’s stomach as a dark, veiny hand grabbed Thraigg, black nails curling around his wrist. A hideous crack sounded as he wrenched the dwarf’s arm in the wholly wrong direction, the hammer falling to the ground with a heavythud. Thraigg’s howl of pain echoed in the chamber as he dropped to one knee, clutching his shattered arm.
Zephyr screamed, darting forward with a furious grace. Cedric wanted to warn her to stay back, all too aware that though she might have stabilized Kit, the threat was far from over. They couldn’t risk their best healer jumping into the fray. But he barely had time to take a single step before Evander raised his hand and sent a wave of rushing water at the sylvan. It slammed into her, sending her flying into the stone wall behind her with a wet crunch.
“Zephyr!” Cedric ran forward once more, meeting Evander’s darksteel sword with his own in a flurry of chaotic blows. Strike. Dodge. Lunge. Parry. Tables and chairs fell over in their path as they battled their way across the chamber. Sparks flew from the places where their blades met. Around them was only chaos. Blood. Screams. Pain.
And through it all, Evander laughed. A deep, hollow sound that seemed like it was coming from the very walls of the Sanctum, as if he were enjoying every second of the carnage.
Cedric’s breath grew ragged. He was slowing, his body screaming in protest as he drew his blade up once more to meet Evander’s most recent blow. Somewhere deep inside, he tried to stir that spark of warmth, to kindle that heat. If ever there was a time for him to erupt in flame, let it be to take down this dark creature before he destroyed them all.
As if he sensed his resolve, Evander’s black eyes locked onto Cedric’s. For a moment, the two men just stared, swords grating against each other, the air thick with magic and the tang of blood.
“You truly think you can stop me, little knight?” Evander sneered. “You have no idea what I am trying to do here.”
“I do not care,” Cedric said. “Whatever it is you aim to accomplish, you mean to do so with death and blood. No more.”
That cold, calculated laugh emerged once more. “Oh, the irony. I told him many times how fruitless this would be.” He reared back, blade crashing down on Cedric’s with a clang.
Cedric drew back, holding his sword in front of him with both hands, the sharp tip leveled at Evander’s chest. “Who ishim?”
“I told him there was little point in binding me here without a fleshed-out plan to conquer the next Crucible. Without a true champion to take the crown. It won’t let just anybody take it, you understand. You have to beworthy.”
“Isn’t that the whole point of the entire stars-damned Crucible?” Cedric asked, his sword starting to waver in the air. “To prove only the worthiest will emerge as victor?”
Ignoring him, Evander continued. “Still, he insisted. He told me it would be worth it, in the end. That he’d already heard whispers of where to go next, of what he needed.” His eyes narrowed, never leaving Cedric’s face. “Who he needed. And so, I agreed. I let him use me to free himself from the bindings of the Crucible, let him plant a bead of his power in me before he left.”
“W-what are you saying?” Elyria snapped free of her paralysis, her voice cutting through the air. “You...youchoseto stay here? You chose to becomethis?”
Evander finally broke his gaze from Cedric, turning to face his former love. He curled his fingers in toward his palm, conjuring a tiny stream of water and letting it dance between his blackened fingertips. “When one is caught in a riptide, is it truly a choice to allow yourself to be swept up in it?”
“Yes,” she said. “It is.”
“Even when the alternative is to swim against the stronger tide? To paddle until exhaustion takes you, until you sink, until you drown?”
“There is always a choice.”
“Hmm. Rather a lofty position for you to take, my love. I would think you of all people should understand where I am coming from.”
She shook her head. “This isn’t you.” Her voice was thick, her hands trembling. “I know you’re still in there. The real you. Let me help you.”
For a moment, Evander hesitated. Cedric thought he saw his dark eyes soften, saw the veins around them recede ever so slightly. “Help me?” His voice was softer. “You cannot help me, love. Not anymore. Varyth saw to that.”
Elyria took another step closer, and like he was tied to her, Cedric stepped with her, closing the distance between them. Tears streamed from her eyes, and Cedric yearned to drop his sword long enough to wipe them from her cheeks. But he didn’t, keeping the blade trained on Evander, even as it appeared he’d all but forgotten about Cedric entirely.
“Tell me what happened,” she pleaded.
Evander’s expression shuttered, all traces of whatever emotion had broken through gone. “A life for a life,” he said, matter-of-factly. “That was the price. Varyth escaped the Crucible by using my life-debt to sever his own. Only instead of killing me outright, his dark magic kept me alive. Tied to this place”—he gestured widely, repulsion on his face—“but alive. I was his little secret. His watchdog, waiting in the shadows. I was to stay out of the Arbiter’s line of sight. Stay hidden. Until the next Crucible came and brought with it someone worthy enough to free us all.”
He began pacing then, twirling his darksteel blade at his side like it was a toy rather than a deadly weapon. He barely spared a glance as he passed the other champions, still collapsed or crumpled in their various corners of the room. Thraigg hissed as Evander came close but showed no sign of otherwise moving.
“But, alas, waiting is an exhausting game,” Evander continued. “And he may need someone worthy to win him the crown, but his promises have grown rather thin over the years. I was no longer content to sit back and wait. I was tired of watching. The Arbiter is so slow about things, you see. I thought it better if I offered a helping hand instead.”
Elyria sucked in a breath through her teeth. “Did you...What have you done with the Arbiter?”
“Nothing,” he said with a scoff. “Were I but capable of ‘doing’ anything to her...Sadly, power does not exist on this plane strong enough to do a stars-damned thing to a celestial. But I was able to keep her fromcontacting you. Is it such a terrible crime to have wanted to see how my darlings fared in the third trial without her guidance?”
Her? A celestial? What does that?—
