21. Tiamat

Chapter 21

Tiamat

With a fierce determination, my grandfather and I continue to battle the relentless onslaught of shadow creatures, our weapons flashing in the dim light of the chamber as we fight for our lives. But for every enemy we strike down, two more take its place, their twisted forms writhing and contorting with dark energy as they swarm around us like a tide of darkness.

As the battle rages on, a sense of desperation gnaws at the edges of my mind. No matter how many of the shadow creatures we defeat, it seems like there is no end to their numbers, no respite from their relentless assault. We are outnumbered, outmatched, and running out of options.

But then, in a moment of desperate inspiration, an idea strikes me—a gamble born of desperation and fueled by the power coursing through my veins. With a quick motion, I draw a deep gash across my palm. The blood welling up from the wound in thick crimson rivulets that drip to the floor below. "I call upon Death Eternal on khlōros she rides. I beseech the pale rider to manifest and wipe the field clean. I offer in sacrifice my blood as payment for this boon."

Channeling the ancient magic that flows within me, I utter a prayer to Death Eternal, invoking the power of the pale rider to come forth and cleanse the field of battle. I offer my blood as a sacrifice, a payment for the boon I seek—a chance to turn the tide of the battle in our favor, no matter the cost.

As my blood ignites upon the floor, a surge of energy pulses through the chamber, the very air vibrating with power as the words of my invocation echo through the room. I can feel the shadow creatures recoil at the sight of the flames, their twisted forms writhing in agony as the flames lick at their ethereal bodies.

And then, with a sound like thunder, Death Eternal manifests before us, her skeletal form shrouded in the swirling mists of the underworld. Beside her rides War, his massive form clad in armor of blackened steel, his eyes burning with the fires of battle.

With a single glance, Death Eternal surveys the battlefield, her gaze piercing through the darkness to the heart of the shadow creatures that assail us. And in that moment, I know that our salvation is at hand—that with Death and War at our side; we have the power to turn the tide of the battle and emerge victorious.

With a gesture from Death Eternal, the shadow creatures falter, their movements slowing as if caught in a web of invisible chains. And then, with a wordless command, she unleashes her power upon them, a wave of darkness sweeping across the chamber and engulfing the creatures in its icy embrace.

In an instant, the shadow creatures are no more, their twisted forms dissipating into nothingness as Death Eternal claims them for her own. And as the last echoes of their cries fade into the darkness, a silence descends upon the chamber, broken only by the sound of our ragged breaths and the pounding of our hearts.

As Nikita shifts back into her dark Nephilim form, her wings unfurl with a menacing grace, casting shadows across the chamber like the outstretched wings of a predatory bird. Her eyes gleam with a fierce determination as she surveys the scene before us, her gaze piercing through the darkness with a predatory intensity.

"That elf is messing with power beyond his control." I can feel the tension crackling in the air as Nikita speaks, her voice a low growl that reverberates through the chamber like the rumble of distant thunder. Her words carry a weight of warning, a reminder of the dangers that lurk within the depths of Oberon's castle.

"I know," I reply, my voice echoing with a steely resolve. "There's plenty of dead down the hallway if you want to add them to your legion."

Nikita laughs, a sound that sends shivers down my spine as she wraps me in a tight embrace. "Good idea," she says, her voice a dark promise of retribution. "Then, after this is over, I'll divide these skulls up between you and Aurora and have them delivered to your home."

Returning Nikita's hug, I feel a surge of gratitude for her unwavering support, her fierce loyalty a beacon of strength in the darkness that surrounds us. With a last nod, she releases me; her gaze lingering on mine for a moment before she turns to survey the chamber once more.

With a determined flick of my wrist, I summon my force weapon, the energy crackling and swirling around me like a storm of shadows. With a swift motion, I direct it towards Oberon's throne, the stone behind it shattering into rubble with a deafening roar.

A hidden passageway is revealed before us, its dark depths beckoning us forward with a promise of secrets and dangers yet to be discovered. Without hesitation, I turn towards the throne, my resolve unshaken as I prepare to venture into the unknown.

"We're going in," I declare, my voice steady despite the uncertainty that lurks in the shadows ahead. "Catch up as soon as you can."

Nikita dips her head in acknowledgment, her eyes flashing with a fierce determination as she prepares to follow. With a nod to my grandfather, I take the first step into the hidden passageway; the darkness swallowing me whole as I vanish from sight.

The narrow corridor stretches out before us like a yawning chasm, its walls closing in around us with an oppressive weight that threatens to suffocate. The air hangs heavy with the stench of decay, a putrid odor that claws at my senses and fills me with a sense of dread.

The narrow corridor stretches out before us like a yawning abyss, its walls closing in around us like the jaws of some ancient beast. The air is thick with the stench of decay, a putrid odor that clings to the damp stone walls like a foul miasma.

Even with my enhanced vision, the darkness seems to press in on us, swallowing everything in its path with an insatiable hunger. I can feel the weight of it bearing down on me, pressing against my chest like a suffocating blanket.

With a flick of my wrist, I summon the power of my force weapon, the crackling energy casting eerie shadows along the corridor's walls. The purple light dances and flickers, illuminating the path ahead with an otherworldly glow.

"Good call, Hatchling," my grandfather's voice echoes through the darkness, a note of approval in his words. I can feel my dragoness swell with pride at the praise, her presence a comforting presence in the back of my mind.

As we continue down the corridor, the path narrows; the walls closing in around us with each passing step. Ahead, I can see that the floor has given way, leaving a wide chasm that stretches across the corridor like a gaping maw.

With a grimace, I dig my talons into the stone, feeling the rough texture bite into my skin as I press my back against the wall. With slow, deliberate movements, I inch my way sideways, my muscles straining against the weight of my body as I navigate the treacherous terrain.

The darkness seems to press in on us from all sides, the shadows writhing and twisting like living things as we make our way across the narrow ledge. With each step, I can feel the abyss beckoning to me, its yawning depths threatening to swallow me whole at any moment.

But I refuse to give in to fear, to let the darkness consume me. With every ounce of strength I possess, I press on, my determination unyielding in the face of adversity.

And finally, after what feels like an eternity, we reach the other side, the solid ground beneath our feet a welcome relief after the precarious journey across the chasm. With a sigh of relief, I turn to my grandfather, a silent acknowledgment passing between us as we continue our journey into the depths of Oberon's castle.

The tunnel stretches out before us like the maw of some ancient beast, its walls closing in around us with a suffocating intensity. Every step we take echoes through the darkness, the sound reverberating off the cold stone walls like a death knell.

As we continue our descent into the depths of Oberon's castle, the air grows heavy with the scent of damp earth and decay. It clings to my skin like a shroud, the foul odor seeping in my pores and filling my lungs with each breath.

Suddenly, we come upon an oubliette, its gaping maw yawning open before us like the mouth of hell itself. The crack in the wall appears to be the only entrance, and there is no way around it.

"Looks like we're going in," I say to my grandfather, my voice echoing through the darkness as I prepare to use my talons to rip the bricks away. With a grunt of effort, I tear at the crumbling mortar, sending chunks of stone crashing to the ground below.

As the dust settles, I swear I can hear movement coming from within the oubliette. My heart races with anticipation as I peer through the hole, my eyes widening in shock at the sight before me.

Inside, Oberon is locked in a fierce battle with two grotesque creatures, their twisted forms resembling something out of a nightmare. With heads that resemble octopuses, they lash out at Oberon with long, sinewy tentacles, their movements quick and precise.

"Should we watch or help?" I ask my grandfather, my voice barely a whisper as I step aside to let him see. He strokes his beard thoughtfully, his eyes fixed on the unfolding scene before us.

"I've seen those before," he says, his voice low and grave. "They're mind flayers, creatures that feast on the brains of their victims."

I watch as Oberon struggles to fend off the relentless assault of the mind flayers, their psychic attacks wearing him down with each passing moment. Despite the danger he poses to us, a part of me can't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for him.

"Let's see what happens, hatchling," my grandfather says, his words tinged with a note of caution. "It may be better for them to weaken him before we make our move."

I nod in agreement, my eyes never leaving the battle raging before us. For now, we'll bide our time and wait for the perfect moment to strike. But deep down, I know that our confrontation with Oberon is inevitable, and when that moment comes, I'll be ready.

From our vantage point at the opening of the oubliette, I watch intently as Oberon engages in a ferocious battle with the mind flayers. His movements are fluid and precise, his every motion a testament to his skill and agility. But even as he hurls spells and incantations at his adversaries with reckless abandon, I can't help but notice the telltale signs of weakness in his defenses.

His left side is vulnerable, a fact that hasn't escaped my keen eyes. Instead of blocking incoming attacks head-on, Oberon evades them, relying on his speed and agility to avoid harm. It's a curious strategy, one that speaks to his cunning and resourcefulness as a fighter.

As the battle rages on, I ponder how Oberon captured not one, but two mind flayers. These creatures are notoriously elusive and powerful, their psychic abilities making them formidable opponents even for the most skilled warriors. That Oberon could subdue them speaks volumes about his strength and determination.

But even as I marvel at Oberon's prowess, a nagging sense of unease settles over me. There's something about this whole situation that doesn't sit right with me, a feeling of dread that gnaws at the pit of my stomach.

Suddenly, Oberon's attention shifts, his gaze sweeping over the chamber as if searching for something—or someone. My heart leaps into my throat as his eyes lock onto our hiding spot, his expression darkening with rage and suspicion.

With a muttered incantation, Oberon unleashes a barrage of magic in our direction, his spells tearing through the air like fiery meteors. I dive to the side, narrowly avoiding the brunt of the attack, while my grandfather conjures a shield of ice to deflect the incoming onslaught. The battle with the mind flayers was a ruse. He used it to distract us and lure us in.

But Oberon is relentless, his fury unabated as he continues to rain down destruction upon us. With a growl of frustration, I summon the power of my dragoness, channeling her strength and resilience to bolster my own defenses.

As the onslaught intensifies, I feel a surge of adrenaline coursing through my veins, my senses sharpening with each passing moment. With a defiant roar, I launch myself into the fray, my gauntlets crackling with energy as I unleash a barrage of attacks against Oberon and his minions.

The chamber erupts into chaos as spells and incantations fly back and forth, the air crackling with the raw power of magic. With each strike, I can feel the weight of centuries of rage and betrayal driving me forward, my determination unwavering in the face of adversity.

But Oberon is a formidable opponent, his skill and cunning matching me blow for blow. As the battle rages on, I can feel the tendrils of exhaustion creeping in, my muscles burning with exertion as I fight to keep pace with his relentless assault.

But I refuse to back down, my resolve stronger than ever as I press forward with renewed determination. With a fierce cry, I unleash the full force of my dragoness, channeling her power into a devastating attack that sends shockwaves rippling through the chamber.

As the dust settles and the echoes of battle fade away, I stand victorious amidst the wreckage of our enemies. With a weary smile, I turn to my grandfather, a sense of pride and accomplishment swelling within me.

"We did it," I say, my voice filled with awe and wonder. "We defeated Oberon and his mind flayers, and now we can finally bring peace to our people."