My whole body trembled from the insane amount of energy I'd just expelled, combined with the sheer terror of confronting the biggest threat to our lives. My mind went blank for a second, shocked at how I'd managed to find the strength to respond to his attack on Draven.
Azazel shook his head, blinking as he lost visual contact with Draven. I felt myself capable of doing even more if he tried to hurt Draven or anyone close to me again. I blamed my sudden jolt of courage on the adrenaline, which was beginning to wear off, leaving me in the river with a chilled spine.
///
I felt Draven relax in my arms, and I shook him a couple of times, enough for him to regain consciousness. We had to hurry-before Azazel tried to take hold of him again.
Draven looked at me, his body suddenly filled with tension as he pushed me forward up the river.
"I'm okay. Swim!" he shouted after me.
I followed Hansa and Sverik along the stream. Draven followed closely behind me. Fate was on our side, as the river flowed fast and heavy, tumbling into a thick patch of willows.
More barked orders emerged from the castle we'd left behind.
They'd soon be on our tails, but we moved with the water and disappeared beneath the trees, thankful for the cover.
Vita
I sought shelter beneath the Daughter's magnolia tree. I wanted peace and quiet, to feel close to nature, as I prepared to dig into my Oracle abilities. I closed my eyes and decided to try Draven's suggestion to pinpoint a specific topic, but I wasn't sure what to think of. I figured I'd try to relax into it...
As I slipped into my vision, my mind wandered to Marchosi, Azazel's newest disciple. Aida had told me about his struggle, his reluctance to join the dark side, so I wanted to see where his seemingly futile resistance would lead.
I was taken into what seemed like a near future, a possible outcome of our actions so far. I was inside Azazel's castle, its walls glistening black with a massive overhead chandelier burning green. Wails and moans echoed through the chamber as three Destroyers stood around a wooden table with a map sprawled on top.
Two of them were focused on the map, while the third fell over with a thump, his thick black tail flailing. He pulled himself back up, his hands gripping the table as he broke into a sweat. His eyes were yellow, flickering black as scales emerged from beneath his skin, breaking it and drawing blood.
They spread up his arms and back, making him groan from the pain.
"Give into it, Marchosi," one of the two Destroyers mumbled, visibly bored with the sight of Marchosi in agony.
"Easy for you to say, Goren," he replied, gritting his teeth. "It was so easy for you to abandon yourself and become this abomination!"
Goren threw his head backward with a malicious cackle.
"The more you fight it, the more it hurts," the other Destroyer said, leaning on his forearms over the map. "Believe me, I tried. We all succumb to it, sooner or later."
"I can't," Marchosi sobbed, palms covering his face. "I can't … This isn't who I am … This isn't who I'm meant to become, Patrik. If I let it take over, there will be no turning back."
Patrik shook his head, sadness in his eyes.
"You don't understand, Marchosi," he said. "He's already won. The moment you started changing, he won. There's no way back. No way to fix it. His spells are permanent, the damage impossible to fix."
"Give it a rest, you crybabies!" Goren smirked. "Let's get back to work. Azazel has assigned us new territories on the west coast. I've got another raid to undertake tonight, and you're wasting my time with your incessant weeping. Just let it go already, and the pain will stop!"
Marchosi gasped, collapsing once more. I noticed Patrik's expression, a mixture of sadness and grief. He didn't seem to want to be there either, making me think that Azazel's effect on his Destroyers ran deeper than we'd originally thought.
In a second vision, the world seemed different and still. The sky was red, a massive sun setting in the west, heatwaves rising above the horizon. Black clouds gathered above a citadel, an enormous construction made entirely out of obsidian. Its smooth, polished surface reflected the sunset.
I seemed to be on another planet. I heard roars and swords clashing below. I looked down to find a war unravelling at the base of the citadel, thousands of incubi and Destroyers fighting against a small army of creatures scattered around the black walls. There were no jungles here, just miles and miles of barren red and black stone.