The Shade

[PepsiWhirda]

In Faerûn, there were demons. Of course there were. Especially after the Spellplague, when magic and sorcery were forever warped and the gods went to war, it was common for insane magic users to call on those who dwelt in the Abyss. As familiars, tenuous allies, or even masters, demons had become a permanent fixture in the realms.

What Nyx described, though, was something different. Something worse. The blood mage hadn't summoned this demon. As far as Whirda knew, she had no idea of its intentions, or even its whereabouts. One thing they seemed to agree on was the nature of demons. Intrinsically evil, manipulative, and dangerous, the creatures were not to be underestimated. If one of them was in Nyx's head, if it could possibly threaten Whirda, who hadn't yet returned to her full strength, even after almost a week spent in the Omniverse... well, that foreshadowed a parting of ways between the two women. Whether Whirda liked it or not.

The time to dwell on the blood mage's affliction passed quickly. Though they were still hours distant from the shade, whose range of influence only spoke to its great strength, the aura took hold quickly. Whirda threw up her mental defenses to combat the wave of despair flooding through her. The air grew thick with it, like something of which she could reach out and tear away clumps.

Nyx seemed to be faring worse than Whirda. Her face was pale with exertion. Each breath looked strained, and her face was more contorted even than when the demon entered her head. And on top of that, Dobson was moving.

The boy hadn't regained consciousness yet. It would be hours yet before the undead affliction took hold, but already he groaned in his sleep. He struggled against his bonds by reflex, but without strength. The constant tap against Whirda's spine had her glancing back at the boy every few seconds. A wide strip of cloth covered the bottom of his face, to keep him from biting her if he awoke. The veins in his temples protruded, once red, now growing steadily black as the contagion spread. His forehead was covered in a sheen of sweat. They had to hurry.

Their passage took them through the center of a town. Or rather, what had once been a town. The wall, similar to Darkshire's, lay in splinters, the thick logs split and thrown carelessly aside, as by some hulking monster. The road was strewn with skeletal debris, mostly human bones, but some canine, some equine, and some much larger than Whirda had seen in the Omniverse—perhaps giant, ogre, or troll. The few remaining buildings were soot-black and dilapidated, rafters and siding torn away by looters or scavengers. Whirda and Nyx tore down the main avenue, scanning the buildings for signs of assailants or survivors.

Nyx, looking up, was the first to see the massive silhouette descending upon them.

"Whirda!" she cried, tearing the bandage off of her palm.

Whirda caught sight of it, though she could hardly tell what it was, apart from the broad wings beating against the air. A second followed the first, unleashing a preternatural, screeching howl that had Whirda's hands clamped over her ears and her teeth gritted in agony. Only one creature she knew of could make a sound like that—a banshee—, but those didn't have wings. This was something new.

Fifteen feet across, its body easily as large as Cascade, the first creature swept low over the street ahead, each beat of its wings sending bones and detritus swirling into the air, to clunk hollowly against the burnt out buildings. Whirda leaped from Cascade's back, shoving Dobson's unconscious form to the ground, but another screech rattled her head and stole her footing. She stumbled and fell amidst the bones, covering her ears again. "Be gone, Cascade!" she screamed, waving a hand and calling on the power of Omnilium. The winged creature, impossibly fast, blew by her in a blur, its taloned feet grasping the panicking horse and pulling it aloft. Cascade's terrified whinnying was cut short as the horse dissolved into a globe of varicolored Omnilium and disappeared.

Outraged to be denied its prey, the creature cut a wide arc, and returned for a second attack. Whirda stood, her kukris now unsheathed, though her fists were still pressed against her ears. One of the bat things now approached from each end of the avenue, their screeches splitting the air and stealing her balance once again.

"Go, Thanatos!" she heard Nyx yell faintly, and then the blood mage was beside her, strips of her torn robe stuffed into her ears, grabbing her arm.

Whirda once again marveled at Nyx's ingenuity. She allowed the blood mage to drag her aside. As they stumbled through an open doorway, Whirda saw the closest creature screech again—except this time, a wave of visible energy emerged from its mouth. The sonic attack struck the building with an explosion of wood. Splinters pelted the fleeing women as the opposite wall burst apart.

"Up!" Whirda screamed, pointing a kukri at a rickety staircase. Behind them, the scrape of talons told them one of the creatures had landed, and was entering the house behind them. She chanced a look back as they scrambled up the stairs, and saw a creature of nightmares. A face like a bat with an unhinged jaw, fangs as long as her kukris, eight feet of solid, black, furry mass. Wings that, even when folded, were big enough to wrap around her lithe frame and crush the life from her bones. It opened its mouth even wider—impossibly wide—, and Whirda shoved Nyx forward with all her strength.

She leaped high, grabbing an exposed rafter with both hands just as the staircase disintegrated, spraying her again with scraps of wood. She swung her legs and pushed off, landing solidly and absorbing her momentum with a roll that brought her alongside Nyx on the landing.

On the roof above, they could hear talons scraping, as the second monster tore away chunks of wood, entire rafters splintering and being thrown aside. Through the gaps, she saw her opportunity.

"Deal with this one!" she screamed, rising to her feet.

"Deal with it? How in hell am I supposed to do that!?" Nyx protested, but Whirda was already enacting her plan. Her stupid, stupid plan, a plan that would almost surely get any warrior killed.

But Whirda wasn't just a warrior, and as she jumped she propelled herself upward with a powerful gust of wind. Throwing her hands over her head, she exploded through the roof of the building, directly beneath the bat creature. "Aina kala!" she roared, and the glow of holy fire engulfed the weapons, just in time for Whirda to drive them both through the creature's muscled chest.

Her kukris split the monster's flesh like scissors cut paper. She angled them outward and dragged them free of the bat, severing its shoulders, arms, wings, and head from the rest of its body. The gust of wind carried her higher still, as the creature literally fell apart before her onslaught, the fire spreading to consume the paper-thin wings. It collapsed on the roof with a resounding thud, and Whirda controlled her descent, landing on the next roof.

That's when the building collapsed.

The weight of the fallen monster, along with the damage to the building's integrity by the sonic assault, proved too much. The first floor went first, the building dropping more than ten feet in a matter of seconds. Whirda heard Nyx scream as dust and wood exploded outward. A second later, she caught sight of furiously flapping wings, a bat-like face now missing an ear, the torso slashed and punctured multiple times by Nyx's attacks... and Nyx herself, clamped on those claws, flailing to escape but finding no success.

The creature broke free of the building as it collapsed the rest of the way. Whirda watched, aghast, as it fought for altitude, its wings shredded and bleeding air with every stroke. Nyx seemed unharmed, but howled her fear and frustration as blood bolt after blood bolt pounded into the creature's side to no avail. It was too high. She couldn't jump that high, and she had no attack to free Nyx from its clutches.

Then Whirda was roughly shouldered aside, a hulking frame dropping to a knee, leveling a crossbow and taking aim. A broad face turned to her, the very definition of calm, nostrils flared and stormy blue eyes focused. "Catch her," the man said simply, before turning back and unleashing hell on the flying creature. The crossbow whirred and clicked as bolt after bolt met the air, flying true, sinking into the winged creature's face and torso. It screeched, spun, and Whirda could see the holy fire spreading, as if the bolts themselves were made of the very magic enchanting her blades. The creature was dead before it began to fall, the talons releasing Nyx, who fell into the night.

Whirda, transfixed, almost didn't react in time.

"Catch her!" the man roared, pulling her from distraction.

"Dark and empty," she growled, sprinting to the lip of the roof and leaping straight out, stretched flat, perpendicular to the ground. The heap of rubble that had once been a building directly beneath her, she reached her arms out, wrapping them around Nyx's falling frame and simultaneously summoning another gust of wind. Her aim was true, and the women were propelled straight through the window of the building opposite. With a crash of wood and glass, and more than a few scrapes and bruises, they rolled violently across the floor. Just in time, Whirda managed to steady Nyx's skid with a controlled burst of wind.

Whirda slammed into the wall with a groan. The impact shook all of her bones. She clamped her teeth down on her tongue and screamed. Then she lay still, groaning, trying to assess the damage. No bones felt broken, though she wouldn't know until she tried to stand. A gash above her right eye oozed blood, but it was shallow. A miracle, it was, that she was still alive—that they both were.

Before she could stand, a firm hand grasped her shoulder and held her still. "Do not move," said the man from the roof. His accent was unfamiliar to Whirda, crisp and throaty, almost guttural. "I am a doctor. I can help."

Whirda was rolled gently onto her back and greeted by the same broad, handsome face. Nyx stood beside him, looking distraught.

"Whirda... what, what the, what the hell just happened?" she stammered, as if she couldn't comprehend the series of events that took her from forty feet in the air to the ground floor of the building.

"Who are you?" Whirda asked, searching the man's placid blue eyes for an answer.

"I, my dear girl, am Professor Abraham Van Helsing."