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The ground beneath me vanished, and I dropped with a scream, light blooming suddenly, strangely violet and dull. I landed on my back, breath snapped from my lungs by the impact, and for a moment I could only claw at my own chest, searching for air and resisting the rebellious flee of my strength. It split, threads unwinding, turning in four directions.
I flailed on the ground, rolling to the side, a scream silent in my frozen chest at the sight of the twisted figure, blood seeping onto the ground and nearly reaching my prone form. A beast, a dragon! Rolant!
I cried out and then hauled stagnant air into my lungs. Rolant, tangled and weak, turned in on himself, his scales torn away to reveal sore and open flesh. I pushed myself up onto my hands and knees and twisted to search the room.
It was unevenly round, and it looked as though it had been freshly dug, rubble still littering the ground. Leaned back against the far wall was a seated woman, her eyes on me, a gruesomely bloody smile turned in my direction. She was beautiful, hair pale in the strange light, skin gleaming.
"Victor," she greeted, and my brow furrowed for a moment before I realized what she meant. This was Nimue.
I groaned as she reached a hand out toward me, my body lurching in her direction by the force of thenéktarshe stole from me.
"No!" My strength was for Asterion, not her!
"Heal me, and I fix this," she said, dark blood bubbling up from her lips.
My body shook and threatened to fall limp as I ripped my stare from hers. Amon was to my right, pale and silent but blinking at me, his chest rising and falling. It took me a moment to spot his injury, but they were there in his lap, bloodied fingertips cut short, his claws stolen.
Which only left…
I yanked myself once more, fighting against Nimue's draw on my power, my knees scraping against the ground as I scrambled to turn and find—
"Asterion!" I cried out.
He was sprawled against the wall, legs spread, head back, and in the shadows and the hollow light it took me a moment to make him out properly. His head lolled, and my breath stopped short.
"Oh, my love," I whispered, digging my fingers into stone and dirt, forcing my way in his direction, ignoring the choking pull on my chest, my throat, even my eyes aching in my skull. Nimue would steal all the life I had in me before I could give any to my friends, to my mate.
"Théa," Asterion whispered, blinking.
His horns were broken, gold cut away, but he was there waiting for me, calling to me. I wept and crawled to him, one painful struggling movement at a time, until his hoof was under my hand. I moaned, and Nimue's force fractured as I touched Asterion. There was stillnéktarspilling out of me, my vision going hazy around the edges, but she didn't control me now. I kept one hand on Asterion at a time, scooting myself into his lap, eagerly searching his body for wounds I might seal shut.
His chest heaved with a deep breath as I fell against him, wrapping my arms over his shoulder, pressing my lips to his jaw.
"Birsha is dead," I whispered.
"Evanthia." Asterion's arms circled me. "You shouldn't have come, and yet I knew you would. My fearless little goddess."
Rocks fell from above, one striking me in the back, but the pain was dulled and faded, distant compared to the soft brush of Asterion's fur under my cheek.
"Evanthia!"
"I love you," I whispered, my lips almost numb as they buffed against Asterion's soft ear.
"Oh, Amon! Are you all right?!"
"She's healing them."
"Evanthia, that's enough now. Morgana will break the bindings." A hand grabbed for me, but I whimpered and tightened my arms around Asterion's shoulders.
"Théa?" His voice rumbled under my cheek, reassuring and growing stronger.
"Evanthia! How do we stop it? She's getting pale."
The world shook and darkened, but large, warm hands squeezed my waist. Asterion was alive. Birsha was dead. Somehow, it had all worked out the right way.
"Evanthia, darling. Darling, wake up!"
No more nightmares, my sweet victor.
