Ulvian was just finishing going over the offer from the ambassador of Morak, smiling at the terms of the peace treaty the man was proposing. The man had obviously been terrified of what Tyria had done to Alcast’s embassy, which handily made up for the loss of the suborned ambassador of the weaker republic.

“Sorvos! Summon me to the mortal plane immediately!” The mental voice of Irethiel thundered into Ulvian’s head so incredibly loudly that he felt like his skull was about to burst.

The rage in the demon lord’s message was beyond even when Ulvian had overstepped his bounds, and he shuddered as blood began to seep from his ears and nose. Despite the lances of agony thrust through his mind, Ulvian didn’t dare say much, simply gasping, “A-as you command, My Lady!”

She didn’t respond, to Ulvian’s relief. He did have to wonder what had enraged the demon lord so, but without time to wonder the Archon stood, his thoughts racing on how he was to summon the demon lord. It was made easier by there being no need to take precautions for his defense, but even so it wasn’t something that was going to be easy. He got up rapidly and headed for the door.

It only took Ulvian a moment to run through the options available to him, and to settle on the one that could be performed most quickly. The door opened, and he glanced around, his eyes settling on the unfortunate elven maid who’d been passing by.

“You there, I need your help in one of my laboratories,” Ulvian told the woman, smiling as he stepped out, doing his best to avoid paying too close of attention to what she looked like. “Come with me.”

“Y-yes, Lord Archon! Right away!” the maid replied hurriedly, curtseying and following after him.

He rushed down the hallway, thankful that the woman had been well-trained. Some of the servants that had been in the palace when he’d first taken over had actually taken the initiative to ask what needed to be cleaned, and in this particular case that would be awkward. On the other hand, she was a slave, so it didn’t much matter if she ended up hesitant.

Reaching the room he wanted, Ulvian opened the door and stepped inside, motioning her in as well. The room was mostly bare, with just a circle set into the floor and a cabinet full of ritual materials. The maid looked around in obvious confusion, opening her mouth to speak.

“Don’t speak. Step into the center of the circle and stand as still as you are able until I tell you to move,” the Archon ordered quickly, opening the cabinet and pulling out a jar of sulfur, a vial of blood, and a large, nearly flawless ruby.

The maid’s mouth snapped shut and she stepped into the circle, while Ulvian quickly unscrewed the jar and began pouring the sulfur into the circle in a quick, steady stream. It took a minute to do properly without spilling too much, but once finished, he screwed the jar shut again and set it aside, taking the ruby and holding it out to the maid.

“Put this in your mouth and hold it on top of your tongue,” Ulvian commanded, barely paying attention as the woman took the ruby. He saw a few tears spatter on the floor, but it didn’t matter. He refused to let himself really look at his sacrifice.

Taking a deep breath, Ulvian stopped and steadied his breathing. The feeling of the blood in his ears was distracting, but he’d already healed, and it didn’t matter. Instead he calmed himself for a long moment, before uncorking the vial of blood and pouring it down onto the circle.

“Demon Queen of Chains, I call out to thee with a sacrifice. May her flesh, blood, and spirit become yours, to allow thee to manifest in this world.” Ulvian spoke quickly, pushing as much mana as he could manage into the circle, which had burst into crimson flames around the silently sobbing maid. “I call humbly to thee, and request thy presence before me!”

The flames surged, roaring high in the room to nearly sear the ceiling as the circle cut off all sight of the woman who’d had the misfortune of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and Irethiel’s presence hit Ulvian like a mallet. It almost knocked his feet from under him, and the bone-shattering sense of her seething wrath was enough to make it hard for the Archon to breathe. He fell to his knees, bowing his head as the flames died to reveal His Lady in the place where the young woman had been standing.

The demon lord was a succubus, but more along the lines of Reyviss than Wenris. Her skin was blood-crimson and her figure voluptuous, but little of that was in evidence this time. Her body was sheathed in black metal plates that shone like an insect’s carapace, even including segmented armor that ran the length of her tail and ended in a wicked stinger. Her wings were also sheathed in armor, save for the membranes that allowed her flight, and only her head was uncovered. Irethiel’s gold-streaked ebon hair had been bound up in a braid and woven into a crown of gold wire, with a flaming halo blazing above her beautiful face. In her hand was a spiked mace of black metal, the sight of which made Ulvian shudder.

“Welcome to Kelvanis, Your Eminence. I worked as fast as I could,” Ulvian told her, refusing to rise from his bow.

“It shall suffice, but I have little time, Sorvos. Your bumbling has led to disaster, and unless I can fix it this will cost you dearly indeed.” Irethiel’s voice was filled with her anger, and it made Ulvian pale even more.

“May… may I ask what has happened?” the Archon asked, his voice trembling with worry. While things hadn’t improved just yet, he hadn’t thought things had gone so terribly wrong that she would be enraged.

“You sent Tyria against your enemies, and when you did you allowed her to shield herself from transmitted orders, you incompetent mortal worm!” Irethiel roared, taking a step toward him and raising her mace, which ignited with a black energy. “I should slay you where you stand, but I don’t have time to make it take the time you justly deserve! Now the dungeon is attempting to steal her, and I have to stop it! So pray for your salvation, Ulvian, for there will be none for you should I fail!”

The thunderous words were almost too much for the Archon, and he only barely managed to hold back his own exclamations of horror as Irethiel explained what had angered her and brought her to the mortal world. Bracing himself for his death, Ulvian waited several long moments, but all he heard was a muffled boom from above him, and then he was knocked over by a blast of wind.

When he opened his eyes, Ulvian found the roof of the lab missing, along with the section of the palace above it. Irethiel had already vanished from sight, but a trail of shadows flickered in her wake. As the alarms of the city sounded, the Archon slowly shook off his daze.

“That… that’s impossible…” he muttered, blinking as he considered what she’d said, his blood chilling more. “No, if they managed to defeat Tyria, they could defeat her! And if that’s the case… I have to prepare. Just in case.”

Before anyone could come looking for him, Ulvian quickly opened the door and left, heading for a chamber that he’d kept secret from even Wenris and Irethiel’s other servants, a room where he’d made his final preparations for disaster.

* * *

Diane was pacing back and forth nervously, looking out the window at the swarming armies down near the base of Beacon. While the city could actually be more easily defended if the defenders retreated to the second wall, none of the locals were willing to fall back in the face of Kelvanis’ forces. The battle had quieted, but only slightly.

Serel was by the door, standing guard as always, and Jaine was trying and failing to study a book, as she frequently glanced up at Diane. Her daughter was just starting to ask a question when the door burst open in front of Wenris, nearly causing Diane to have a heart attack and Serel to go for her sword.

“Wenris! What are you intruding like that for?” Jaine demanded, but the succubus ignored her, focusing on Serel.

“Serel, come with me, now! My Lady has recalled me to Her realm, and instructed me to bring you as well,” the succubus snapped.

“Very well,” Serel replied, blinking once and frowning. “What of Diane?”

“She’ll be safe, Milady said so,” Wenris replied, and glanced at Diane, smiling gently despite her obvious haste in a way that made Diane feel strange. “Don’t worry, Diane. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“A-alright, Mistress,” Diane managed. “Be safe.”

“I will,” Wenris replied, a promise clear in her voice, and she reached out with one hand to cut a hole in space, stepping through without a pause. As Serel followed, Diane only caught a glimpse of what looked like a massive library before the opening snapped shut.

“What was that all about?” Jaine asked, shaken.

“I… I have no idea,” Diane admitted, staring at the spot where the two other women had vanished and wondering what was happening.

At that moment, the world outside flashed brilliant red as the beacon fired again, then again, and its thunder shook the palace itself.

* * *

The echoing thunder of the beam that had fired made Daniel flinch, glancing up at the tower as he blinked. “What in the hell was that for?”

“I don’t have any clue, but whatever it is, it’s getting closer,” Sayla murmured, hands on her daggers.

A large pile of rubble and the remains of the gate doors had been piled in front of the gatehouse to try to hold back Kelvanis’ army, but unlike most of the adventurers, Daniel hadn’t been able to convince himself to go back inside. The fight was hardly done, and he couldn’t help but be on edge. His other friends were out with him, and Sina was in the back, chewing her lip nervously. Even with the dozen golems standing guard around the barrier, he couldn’t help himself.

“That doesn’t sound good,” Penelope said, looking up sharply at the wall.

It took Daniel a moment to hear the increased cries of alarm, along with the flickers of more movement up above. The firing of arrows, ballista, and spells increased in intensity, then came the warble of water just before the gates started spraying a flood down the ramp.

“You’re right, that doesn’t sound good at all,” Daniel agreed, pulling out his sword nervously. “What do you think it is?”

Screams from the wall echoed loudly, and Daniel saw what looked like bright crimson flames coming down the gatehouse tunnel. There was something about it that was odd. A moment later he heard gasps, and the clatter of metal on the ground. Spinning around, Daniel saw almost all the other adventurers on the verge of falling over. Eric’s axe was on the ground, and the big man was pale and sweating.

“Oh, shit. This isn’t good. Danny, we’ve got something nasty coming!” Joseph said quickly, his eyes wide. He was the only one unaffected, and his face paled. “Everyone, get the hell off to the sides!”

As they began following his orders, seemingly unable to even talk, Daniel asked, “What’s happening to them? Why don’t I feel anything?”

“You have a light spirit, and I have Tervor’s blessing, and that’s the aura of a really powerful demon!” the cleric snapped. “We want to be out of its way, quick!”

The barrier in front of the gates suddenly exploded, and Daniel froze at the sight of the demon who’d just sent rubble flying across the courtyard. She was sheathed in black armor with a flaming halo, and she hadn’t stopped moving after shattering the barrier. The spiked mace in her hand hit one of the golems before it had even started moving, and it acted much like Darak hitting a vine shambler, sending the section it’d hit flying and leaving the rest of the golem as mangled metal and stone.

The woman was a blur, faster than even Penelope as she ripped through the golems in seconds, never even coming close to being hit. The sight made Daniel pale and hurry to usher Sina and Sayla in particular off to the side. Albert was looking a little green, but at least he was functional.

“Petty mortals, is this all you can do? I should have invaded and done this myself to begin with!” The woman’s voice was arrogant and like velvet thunder as she laughed and started stalking toward the dungeon entrance. “Tremble, you fools, for when I’m done with the dungeon, all of you will be my slaves, not merely the servants of Kelvanis!”

Her words didn’t register for a moment, but when they did, a spike of anger surged through Daniel, overcoming his fear. Not just him, but his friends would be the slave of that… that demon? Including Sina? His rage burned brighter, and he mentally called out to Hope, summoning the spirit to fill him with light.

If the spirit allowed him to ignore the demon’s presence, it should allow him to actually be a threat, he imagined. The demon was just walking past his position, and didn’t seem concerned by the possibility of anyone attacking her, not with how the majority of people had almost collapsed around her. So he drew his sword and turned.

“Daniel, no!” Joseph called out, but it was too late.

He’d already started forward, the world growing brighter and slowing down as Daniel lunged at the demoness, using the attack which had never yet failed him. Just as he was inches from the woman, though, her head snapped around to meet his eyes, and the world seemed to speed up again abruptly.

With a sound like nails on a chalkboard, Daniel’s sword exploded into shards of metal that blasted back into him, lodging in his armor and flesh like dozens of tiny needles, but that was only a side note, as something seemed to hit him, and all sensations from his chest suddenly vanished. Daniel found himself flying, then came to a sudden, jarring stop as he hit a building and slumped over, trying to breathe and failing.

“Impudent mortal,” the demon sneered as she kept going, blood now dripping from her gauntlet.

“Daniel!” Sina’s scream was faint as Daniel’s vision started going black. He only caught a glimpse of her face before the darkness enveloped him, but even that sight was comforting.

* * *

Time was crawling by, and Phynis paced nervously, frequently looking at Tyria and the cage of light, along with the roots that had slipped through the gaps of the goddess’ armor. There hadn’t been any words for at least half an hour, and she was growing even more worried. While claiming brands had taken Sistina a long time at first, she’d gotten even the worst of them that she’d encountered, the ones for magi and priests, down to only a few minutes. Maybe it was just the new form of brand and Tyria being a goddess, but it worried Phynis deeply.

“Who… are you…?” Tyria’s words were slow and painful as they broke the silence, causing the Queen to jump.

When she turned, she saw Tyria staring at Diamond, looking puzzled, some of the pain in her expression gone. The former Archpriestess was standing near the lattice with her fellow priestesses, looking at Tyria sadly.

“I don’t know who I was. When Kelvanis captured me and took me from Your temple, they placed a mindshard within me that overwrote my name with a new one, Diamond. That’s my name now, My Goddess, and I wish I could have protected you better.” Diamond spoke softly, her voice oddly gentle as she smiled at Tyria. “I recognize you, My Goddess. Even with your hair and wings changed, your face and body have not changed at all. Your Light shines even more brightly awake, and it depresses me that you were turned against your own faith.”

“That… no. No, this cannot be true.” Tyria gritted her teeth, shaking her head. “It makes no sense! I remember so, so…”

“My Lady, I was born three hundred and seventy-four years past, in the town of Aspen Hills. As the fourth child of a merchant family with three significantly older children, my chances of inheriting much were not good, so I decided to visit the capital of Yisara to seek my fortunes when I was fifty-two. I was unfortunate enough to encounter a group of goblins, and was on the verge of being cooked on a spit over their fire when a priestess of Medaea and her guards came and rescued me.” Diamond’s voice was soft, and Phynis’ eyes went wide at the story. She’d known the basics, but not how Diamond had encountered the priestess of Medaea. The priestess continued gently. “I thanked her profusely and asked to come along to the shrine she was going to tend to on the southern border. As we traveled I found my calling in Your service. You were my rock, my anchor… and I slowly worked my way up the ranks from acolyte to priestess, until I was the Archpriestess, defending you until you should choose to wake. Most of my life has been spent in your service, and even if I was defiled, I wish I could help you.”

“Why does that sound so familiar? Why?” Tyria murmured in protest, shuddering as she spoke, straining against her bonds of light.

Sapphire took a step forward, her own voice smooth as water. “My Goddess, I am called Sapphire, and I was a noble disowned by her family when I joined Your church. I, just as the others, was altered and defiled by Kelvanis…”

One by one the other priestesses began to tell their own stories, and Phynis could see the goddess beginning to waver, uncertainty growing in her eyes. Eventually it was her turn, and she stepped up, looking at Tyria in the eyes for a long moment. Finally she spoke, her voice soft.

“Unlike them, I’m not a priestess of yours. Medaea or Tyria, you aren’t my goddess. I’m Phynis Constella, and I was once the Crown Princess of Sifaren, before Kelvanis enslaved me. I… now find myself with mixed opinions on what happened. If it weren’t for that, I never would have met Sistina. I never would have fallen in love with her, and I never would have had the chance I do to defeat Kelvanis,” Phynis told the goddess, and paused for a long, long moment. “Please… I just want to be free of them. To let my people be free of them.”

Tyria’s lips parted slightly, as if she was going to say something, then hesitated. At that moment Sistina’s eyes opened and she murmured, “Phynis, Jewels… get back. Shield yourselves.”

Phynis was about to ask why, but quickly thought better of it, nodding and looking at the others. They fell back, worried.

“What’s happening?” Emerald asked, right before a dark presence enveloped the cavern and the light from above dimmed.

“Unhand Tyria!” a woman’s voice echoed through the air, and a figure of shadows with a flaming halo flashed across the cavern, gardens and trees uprooted in her wake as she snarled, “The goddess is mine!”

Sistina barely had a chance to react, at least that Phynis could see, but the Jewels chanted, combining their power to put up a shield around themselves and Phynis, just as the shadow-wreathed mace hit the lattice around Tyria. The lattice splintered and shattered into nothing, and the black-armored demoness grabbed Tyria by the backplate of her armor and ripped her away from Sistina’s roots with a snarl.

“Tyria! You will listen to all my orders, and stay out of this while I deal with this filthy interloper!” the demon spat out, and Phynis’ eyes went huge as the goddess shuddered at the words, her face twisting.

“Irethiel.” Sistina’s voice was soft, yet it somehow cut through the air and silenced everyone, with the demon turning her attention to the dryad suddenly.

“You know who I am. That’s surprising. As is the fact you would dare face me with that knowledge,” Irethiel told her, turning to face the dryad, then smiling cruelly as she added, “But you aren’t facing me, are you? You’re something else entirely.”

No one could react in time as the demon lunged forward, swinging her mace at Sistina. It hit a barrier of golden energy that erupted from the ground in front of the dryad, but almost instantly the barrier was laced with cracks and shattered, and the mace struck Sistina in the chest. Sistina went flying, her white blouse stained with green and flecks of red as she tumbled over to the tree, and Phynis couldn’t restrain herself.

“Sistina!” the Queen screamed, trying to lunge forward, only to have Ruby hold her back.

“No, Phynis! She’s still alright, that’s… that’s not really her, after all,” the priestess whispered, her voice trembling as well.

“This is a shock. I’d thought the world tree was dead, yet here we have a sapling, regrowing after six millennia,” Irethiel said loudly, her voice dripping with condescension as she glanced at Phynis and the others, while her words sent ripples of shock through them. “Did you have the slightest clue what you were living with? You didn’t? Well, isn’t that too bad… it could have done wonders for you, yet you were such ignorant fools. It finally explains why a mere dungeon could interfere so much, though. I suppose I’m just going to have to burn her tree to the ground. No one takes those that are mine from me.”

“You’re a monster,” Phynis hissed, anger flooding her as she glared at the demon. Behind Irethiel, Phynis saw Tyria shudder again, and her lips moved as if she’d said something.

“Why yes, yes I am.” Irethiel smiled at Phynis savagely. “And you must be Phynis, the so-called Queen of this little city. I do look forward to re-branding all of you. But first, to destroy this pathetic upstart.”

“No.” Tyria’s voice was soft, but despite how it trembled, Phynis sensed its rising power. From her abdomen a purple light shimmered, and even through the armor Phynis was able to see the glimmering outline of an absurdly elaborate slave brand appear.

“Shut up, Tyria. You’ve already proven to be useless here,” Irethiel retorted, scowling at her. “I’ll take you back to teach you properly soon enough. Sorvos is obviously useless when it comes to the important things. And I had such high hopes for him.”

“No! I will not be silent!” Tyria’s voice grew stronger, and she slowly forced herself to her feet, glowing more brightly than before. “I shall not serve you, Irethiel!”

Irethiel spun toward her, glaring as she reached out, and a crimson light lashed out to latch onto the glittering outline of Tyria’s brand, prompting a gasp of pain from the goddess as Irethiel growled, “You will serve. You are branded, and you are a goddess of slaves, meant to be a slave! So you will be silent when your owner commands it!”

“I may… may be what you claim, but you are mistaken on one thing!” Tyria growled back, her body trembling before them as her power grew still more potent. “I am the Goddess in Chains… and I will serve a worthy master. But you? You. Are. Not. Worthy!”

The goddess extended her hand, and her forgotten sword blazed to life and flipped through the air into her hand. Raising it, she slammed it into the brilliant light connecting her to Irethiel, and a sound like a gong resounded through the cavern.

“You cannot break the brand, you foolish woman! That brand is part of your body and soul, and it cannot be removed,” Irethiel spat, taking a step forward, only to have Tyria grin back at her.

“Perhaps it cannot be broken, but I can choose an owner of my own. Sistina! I accept thy offer, and submit to your power!” Tyria’s voice was loud, and with a resounding crash she brought down her sword on the link, which shuddered, frayed, and split before Phynis’ eyes.

Irethiel recoiled as the link broke, the lash in her hand vanishing back into her body, but the other end didn’t vanish. Instead it lanced out, twisting around past the demon lord and to Sistina’s tree. Merging with the tree, the link turned brilliant gold, threaded through with vibrant green, and Tyria straightened, her eyes flashing as she smiled at Irethiel, sending a surge of hope through Phynis once more. Slowly the brand and line vanished from sight, but Phynis had no doubt about what had just happened.

“Your hold over me is broken, Irethiel!” Tyria told her, sword in hand as all traces of agony vanished from her face. “You had no right to me, and for daring to try to hold me, you will suffer the consequences.”

“Your arrogance astounds me… how you managed to resist this long is a miracle, but that miracle will not last,” Irethiel hissed, and lunged at the goddess.

The resulting fight was a blur that Phynis couldn’t follow, as sparks flew and purple and black flames clashed in a whirlwind, as did the sounds of metal striking metal. Only a few seconds later the two had separated, with Tyria between the demon lord and the tree. Neither looked injured, but a moment later Phynis’ concern spiked as she saw that Tyria’s face was flushed.

“What… have you done to me?” Tyria asked, her voice shaking.

“Let me guess… your limbs feel leaden, your body feels like it’s on fire, and there’s an ache, an utter need for someone to touch you?” Irethiel replied, grinning as she shook her head. “Distracting, isn’t it? It isn’t what I did just now, Tyria, but what was done before. After you were branded, succubus blood was injected into you as well, dormant but helping you adapt to your servitude. When you broke the link between us, you woke that blood, and succubi love virgins. They love deflowering them, that is. So now your own blood is fighting you. Do you think you can beat both myself and your own desires at the same time?”

“You…!” Tyria’s voice caught, and Phynis’ terror grew as she continued, her teeth grinding. “I am willing to try!”

“What can we do?” Topaz’s voice was soft, and Diamond shook her head.

“There’s nothing we can do. She’s too fast, and if she actually attacks us, we can’t defend against her,” the older priestess cautioned, her words heavy. “We have to hope that Tyria can hold out.”

“I… I know Sistina said something about a last resort…” Phynis murmured, and swallowed hard as the demigoddess and demon lord engaged in battle once more. “If she’s going to do so, I think now’s the time.”

The others looked at her in surprise, and a moment later Amethyst spoke, her voice determined. “I’m sure she will.”

Phynis felt better as she saw each of the others nod their agreement, and internally she prayed that Sistina would. After all, she hadn’t done anything since her body had been thrown backward like a broken doll.

* * *

Sistina tried not to pay attention to the two titans clashing near her tree. The shield around it could hold either one of them for at least a few minutes, which was all the time she would need. The problem was that she’d anticipated at least another hour to try to claim Tyria’s brand before anyone could interfere, and that hadn’t happened. The goddess’ willing defection had been a welcome relief for her, but it simply delayed the inevitable.

As the clash continued, one of her roots burrowed up through the cracks in the original palace of Everium, toward the circle she’d inscribed around the two deities. The clash near her tree echoed the one from so long ago, but she was determined not to let it play out the same way. But first she had to get to the circle.

It took only a little time, but that time was almost too much. Tyria took a blow that caved in part of the armor over her stomach as Sistina’s root reached the circle. There was no time to test the circle. No time to ponder the consequences. Sistina simply mentally whispered a prayer to Fate and activated the charged circle.

The circle roared to life instantly, and it upset the balance between Demasa and Kylrius’ power. The entire mountain began to shake around them, as the still-immense power of two dead gods rippled through reality as time finally caught up to their corpses, and the bodies frozen in time collapsed into dust. Yet the circle contained and channeled the power down the one avenue Sistina had left for it. Directly into herself. Sistina almost screamed as the power struck her fully, light and shadow warring within her body and soul. For a moment she feared that she’d miscalculated.

Then a figure that she’d almost forgotten shuddered and opened its eyes. Avendrial woke, her eyes those of pure darkness, and smiled as she began to devour Kylrius’ power. Sistina paused, dazed, as an ancient aspect of her mind woke, seemingly part of her, yet separate.

It worried her, but Sistina didn’t have time for that, and Avendrial flowed toward the broken shell of the body abandoned by her roots as another self roused itself from Sistina’s memories.