Last Lord of the Fey (Progression Fantasy)

B4 - Chapter 16: To kill a star



Tristan advanced and brought down his blade with two hands in a large, overhead chop. The Starsworn moved fast despite the flaming, burning chains still dangling from its form. The metal ripped from the pillars, and it advanced to meet him with the haft of the spear, holding it up in two hands as the shaft caught the sword. Tristan could feel the intense heat, and if not for the fire dragon blood he had consumed, he would have been incinerated. Even then, he had to vent even more essence to ensure he kept cool enough to stay conscious.

The Starsworn let out a battle shout, shoving forward and trying to push Tristan off balance. Tristan shuffled his left foot back and pulled his sword back around in a tight arc, then lunging forward with a stab that the Starsworn barely deflected with the butt of the spear. The flaming foe spun the spear blade down on Tristan.

He barely reacted in time, raising his left hand across his chest, balling his hand into a fist, pushing essence into the forearm. "Frost védj meg most." (Frost protect me now). The silvery-blue sheet of fractal ice popped into existence before the blade of the spear and caught the blow. The blade bounced back, and as the Starsworn took a step back to thrust, Tristan rotated the arm out to his side, rotating at the elbow, still pouring essence into his forearm, and straightened the arm. He spoke in Dragon's Tongue. "The heart of the frost protects me; a bulwark to wield in defense." The icy shield manifested in a more permanent form, and the essence expenditure was noticeable as he felt the weight settle on his forearm. But the massive shield could cover his whole body, and he brought it to bear, catching the point of the spear.

The flaming tip pushed into the ice, and gouts of steam flared skyward. Tristan used the opening to chop sideways with his right arm, turning his body along with the swing, unleashing a devastating strike across the chest. The blade cut into the chained Starsworn's side, just under where the pectoral muscles would be on a human. The cutting edge left a huge gash that bled a deep, orange, liquid flame and shimmering radiance. Ice tried to take hold, but was instantly seared away. The lightning, however, was a different matter altogether – It wormed its way inside the wound and the yellow electricity flared through the slightly-transparent form.

The Starsworn let out a scream of rage. As Tristan pulled the sword back, it stepped toward him and shoved its palm past the shield and against Tristan's chest. He felt every hair on his neck standing up as Lucky Instinct urged him to move. Dropping prone and turning onto his back to cover his body with the shield, he managed to dodge the palm thrust.

A riotous explosion echoed out above him, almost deafening him and leaving a ringing in his ears. He could see the brilliant geyser of white-hot flame through the normally opaque ice shield, and it quickly melted away leaving him without a defensive barrier. The Starsworn took advantage of that and jabbed down with the spear.

Tristan rolled aside, dodging the stab, and got to his feet in time to deflect a jab. The flaming foe continued to unleash a rapid series of jabs that Tristan backed away from, deflected, and blocked with rapid Frost Screen spells – all the time spinning his crucible and venting the essence to prevent himself from burning to death.

I'm at half essence remaining, Tristan thought as he knew he needed to make a decisive move. I can't keep this exchange going.

As the Starsworn pulled back for another jab, but a chain shot toward him from the Demon essence-weaver, who shouted out, "Now!" The chain kept the spear from going forward and bought Tristan a moment.

He took full advantage, and stabbed forth with his sword, piercing deep into the chest where the heart would be. Pulling the blade back to prevent the metal from being damaged which would leave him weaponless, he watched as more of the orange, liquid fire spilled out. "More chains!" he shouted as he saw the one holding the stab back break, and the Starsworn let loose with the jab. Tristan deflected with his sword, and turned the blade to trap the shaft in the cross guard. Bringing his forearm down onto the weapon, he broke the flaming mass and it dissipated.

His victory was short lived, as the Starsworn had already moved its other hand forward, and the hand warped until it was holding a similar, flaming dagger that stabbed into Tristan's side. The armor deflected the blow slightly from any vital organs, but Tristan still felt the searing heat and let out a cry of pain as he was on the verge of blacking out from the sudden increase in internal temperature literally cooking him from inside. Venting even more essence and focusing it on where the knife had jabbed in, the cooling sensation helped alleviate the pain.

Raising a foot, he kicked the Starsworn back, and reached into the still-open Pocket Dimension II, which had remained fixed in space above his left shoulder. Grabbing one of the supreme healing elixirs, he chugged it down, and felt the flesh re-knit together, leaving behind a weird itch inside his body.

The Starsworn pulled back only for a brief moment from the kick, then another dagger manifested in its other hand. It dashed to Tristan, unleashing a flurry of strikes, which forced Tristan fully onto the defensive.

I need space! Tristan thought as he kept spinning his crucible, and directed the essence into the hilt of the sword, activating Rime Blast. A blistering wave of cold exploded out from Tristan, in a sixty-foot cone before him – shards of ice and eddies of frosty air slamming into the Starsworn and pushing it back further. It gave Tristan a moment to grab another healing elixir and essence elixir, and he quaffed those as well. Only three more healing and four more essence. Thank the gods that the pocket dimension is not affected by the ambient heat.

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The Starsworn recovered from the icy hail as the shards melted away, only leaving behind small wounds. Another pair of chains shot out from the pillars nearby and wrapped themselves around it, holding it still as it struggled against the bindings. "I'll kill you all!" it screamed out. The heat redoubled, and Tristan had to take momentary refuge behind one of the pillars.

He racked his brain for any spell that he had at his disposal and was memorized that he could use to even the odds, as even a stab to the chest didn't stop the thing. I should have memorized some type of offensive water spell, he thought. Think! What could I- he stopped himself and smiled. That's it! He turned around the pillar, tucked his left fist into his chest, with the thumb facing up. He extended the thumb, and curled in all of the other fingers. Still spinning his crucible – now in both directions to absorb the elixir faster and fuel his spells and artificed items, he incanted the spell phrase for Bad Luck in Elvish. "I wish the worst upon you. May all the ill fortune of the world find you."

There was not an immediate visual indication that the spell took hold, but Tristan had no other ideas, and reached for his dagger with his left hand. He cursed to himself as he recalled it was melted away. I wonder…he grabbed the Starmetal Maul from the storage dimension, and choked up with his grip. I have the strength to hold both. Wielding both two-handed maul and bastard sword, he approached the Starsworn.

The entity broke free of the chains once more and turned to launch a spear of radiant light and heat at the Demon essence-weaver – but the shot went wide as she slipped on some slagged metal. The bolt slammed into the wall and left a massive scorch mark and indentation – as if a meteor had impacted the surface. The Starsworn then turned to Tristan, twirling the knives in its grip. "A new foe? Good."

Tristan frowned. Did the Alter Form spell fade? he thought. What could have caused that? Did the time just run out? Damn. Well, I can explain to the Demon later. He deflected the next stab that was aimed at his chest, and then used the upper shaft of the maul to deflect another piercing jab. A flurry of blows were exchanged as Tristan's dual wielding, despite the heft of the weapons, was able to keep up with the Starsworn's rapid dagger strikes. But, Tristan was slowly backing up toward the bodies he had first seen – now charred corpses covered in slagged metal. I need it to be in a place where bad luck can affect it, he thought.

He carefully stepped over one of the corpses, and the Starsworn followed – keeping its brutal assault underway as it jabbed, stabbed, sliced, and carved at Tristan. Tristan was able to fend off the blows and found an opening. The Starsworn stepped onto one of the corpses, and the metal that was already bubbling from its closer presence had liquified. The Starsworn slipped on the substance, staggering slightly.
Tristan stabbed forward, impaling the thing through the chest with his sword. He then quickly stepped back and spun, putting both hands on the maul and sliding them down to the bottom of the shaft. He brought the head around, slamming it into the hilt of the sword. The weapon slammed crossguard-deep and sent the Starsworn sprawling to the ground.

The Demon's voice chanted from nearby, but Tristan couldn't make out the words. He was too focused on the fight before him. As he jumped forward, bringing the hammer up high, he saw the chains from the pillars snake down and wrap around the Starsworn – holding it still for a brief moment.

That moment was enough. Tristan brought the maul down onto the entity's head – smashing it against the stone floor. There was no sound, only the disappearance of the orange corona surrounding the black form. A black body that compressed to a tiny dot.

Once more, Lucky Instinct urged Tristan to move, and he jumped back as he slammed his fist into the ground, "Ich beschwöre eine Wand aus Eis herauf." (I summon forth a wall of ice). The essence remaining in his crucible which was only a quarter capacity after the sustained conflict poured down his arm. A massive wall sprung into place in front of him.

And not a second too soon as a huge explosion, a silent detonation, warped space where the Starsworn was laying. Tristan's wall was dislodged from the ground and sent slamming back into him – but he was protected from the worst of the shockwave and the heat as the ice wall rapidly melted. But, he poured all of his lingering essence into the defensive fortification.

Then, the heat faded. The whole room was deathly still, and he could only hear his own breathing and hear the crackling of the ice which had begun to re-freeze. He let the spells fade and got out from under the ice wall. The entire room was covered in white ash that coated every surface. Including the Demon who was laying behind a pile of the charred corpses and metal; very badly burned and barely breathing.

Tristan ignored her for a moment and walked forward to where the Starsworn had been. The chains binding it were all gone, but miraculously his sword had survived. I should name it, he thought as he picked it up. He also checked the head of the maul and found to his relief that it was undamaged. Starmetal surviving the heat of a Starsworn, that makes sense.

He put the maul back in his storage dimension and while his hand was in there, grabbed an essence elixir and quaffed it. Grabbing a healing elixir, he walked over to the Demon and turned her over, averting his gaze from her bare torso. He tipped her head forward slightly, and poured the elixir into her mouth. Then, he massaged her throat to help her swallow it. The burns began to fade from her form, and she groaned.

Tristan sat back on his butt and lay his sword across his thighs. I'll have to think of a name for my sword, he thought, recalling the words of Grandfather Hurvun back when he was younger and asking about the convention of naming swords.

"You only get to name a weapon once it has been used in a mighty feat of strength or prowess. A lot of people will name their weapons, but they shouldn't, unless they have done something worthy of going down in legend."

Tristan chuckled to himself and shook his head as he ran his hand along the blade, "I think killing a star deserves a name."


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