The Darkest Hour

The Blue Sky banked hard to port, narrowly dodging another twister. The spray nonetheless splashed all over Zenith, making him stumble.

But he didn't lose his footing. And Meg's diagram still glowed bright and solid beneath him, flooding his body with its ferocious power. So unlike Theo's dawn glow, but as long as it gave him strength, he wouldn't complain.

As the Blue Sky righted itself, Zenith got a clear view of Samakah again. By now, they had come so close the glow radiating from her body almost blinded him. Even his visual filters struggled to compensate.

Still, he saw enough. Samakah loomed before the skycraft like the trunk of an enormous tree, swaying back and forth in the storm. Then Amaro jerked on the wheel, pointing their nose up, and they began to climb higher.

Of course. Their target wasn't Samakah herself, but the demon controlling her. Zenith gripped his sword tighter, tension sparking through his nerves. But his Levia pulsed strong and steady, thanks to both Meg's spell and the Star of Miriel.

Though the spell must be taking an enormous toll on her, her Levia didn't flag. Gratitude rushed through Zenith.

Whether Fia was succeeding at reaching Samakah, Zenith couldn't say. He would have to trust them to get it done. In the meantime, he had his own task to accomplish.

Amaro brought the Blue Sky higher than ever, clearing Samakah's head. Now less than a hundred meters separated them. Zenith stared down, meeting Hellebore's gaze – or rather, the pits of noxious light his eyes had become.

Zenith's spine prickled. Surely not even Hellebore could handle this amount of corrupted Levia.

But Zenith didn't intend to sit around waiting for the demon to succumb. As Amaro tilted the Blue Sky's nose down, Zenith tensed his legs.

Unconsciously, he glanced to the right. His eyes met Victor's, sending a shock down his spine. Victor lowered his head in an almost imperceptible nod before raising his sword.

Despite himself, a slow wave of anger stirred inside Zenith. To think the two of them were fighting together again....

But now was not the time to worry about such things. Afterwards, he vowed to himself, he would be ready to deal with whatever double-cross Victor and Mirage had planned.

"Let's go!" Darian's order snapped like a whip.

As always, Zenith's body responded without a thought. Gathering all his strength, he leaped into the air. The rain lashed at his armor, but his momentum kept him going strong. For an exhilarating moment he soared high above the ocean, cape flapping behind him.

The others had jumped too – Victor, Lodo, Ryllis. A buzz and crackle from behind suggested Kress had begun charging the cannon.

Now Zenith needed to focus on his own task. As the Levia crested inside him, he gave his sword a mighty swing.

An arc of white light blasted from the blade. Just in time – for with a ferocious roar, Hellebore directed Samakah to summon a new twister. The light slammed into the twister, scattering freezing droplets everywhere, before slicing it cleanly in half and racing on toward Hellebore.

Snarling, Hellebore lurched to the side. But Victor closed in on him, blasting a jet of purple flames from his sword. Hellebore leaned back, dodging by a hair, only for Ryllis to lunge at him from the front.

Hellebore lifted his arm and Samakah stretched her jaws wide open. Ryllis flung herself backward, spear spinning a wild arc.

Though she'd missed her strike, Zenith was still above Hellebore. As he plummeted, he swept another scythe of white light at the demon.

Hellebore couldn't avoid it. The light slashed him in the chest, knocking him clean off Samakah.

As he tumbled through the air, triumph thrummed through Zenith's body. Now was his chance.

He didn't have enough Levia for another light-scythe, but just his sword would do. Pointing the glowing blade, he dove for the thrashing demon.

Though the corrupted Levia enabled him to float, he hadn't yet regained control. Now! NOW!

Zenith's Levia pounded a savage beat in his skull. With this, he would bring the long battle to an end.

He would redeem himself for failing to protect Theo.

A voice in the distance, shouting his name. A warning? But it didn't matter, because he'd almost reached Hellebore. Just a complete more meters and he would strike the demon's chest.

Then something dark swooped in front of him. He only had time to make out a flurry of black feathers before his sword struck.

It tore through flesh, splashing steaming hot blood through the air. The sword twisted, carving into flesh. The Levia wreathing the blade flickered, then dissolved into nothing.

Now the only light came from Samakah's corrupted Levia. It cast sickening highlights over the pale face of the demon in front of Zenith, features contorted in pain.

Ice wrenched in Zenith's core. This...this wasn't Hellebore.

He had never seen this demon before. Slim and silver-haired, with short horns, riding atop a nightsoarer. Zenith's sword still protruded from his chest, the front of which was drenched with dark blood.

Drawing in a shuddering breath, the demon cracked open one eye. It was deep purple, wet with tears but glinting with something very much like triumph.

The demon lifted trembling hands. They closed around Zenith's blade, and heedless of the edges slicing into his palms, he gripped tight. And tugged.

With a sickening squelch, Zenith's sword slid free from the demon's chest. The demon let out a gurgling groan, blood spilling from his lips, but he never removed that bitterly triumphant gaze from Zenith.

Until he keeled to the side, collapsing like a puppet whose strings had been cut, and tumbled off the nightsoarer.

Frozen in midair, Zenith could only watch as the demon plummeted into the distant sea. The nightsoarer took off with a startled shriek, and once more Zenith had a clear line of sight to Hellebore.

But he had never seen the general like this. Despite his uncannily glowing eyes, the shock on his face was more than clear. His jaw convulsed, lips moved soundlessly.

Finally his voice came out. Though barely a whisper, it seemed to echo through the heavy air.

"Ve...ra...."

Just two syllables. It meant nothing to Zenith. And damn it all, he didn't have time to think about it – there was still a chance –

Hellebore's gaze locked with his. The shock was gone, replaced by a fury far colder than the raging storm.

Driven by instinct, Zenith tried to lift his shield. But it felt like he was swimming through tar. Not fast enough. Not before Hellebore howled in rage and dozens of vines burst from his hands, racing straight toward Zenith.

Move! Block it! Too late. Zenith barely managed to twitch his arm before the vines struck. Every single one, point blank in his chest. He heard a tremendous screech, felt them tear through metal. Then deeper. Piercing flesh just like his blade had done earlier.

The pain exploded, wiping his mind blank. And the vines were still plunging inside, deeper and deeper, through bone and muscle and into – into –

No, not there. The crystalline light glowing in the deepest, most secret part of his being. His core.

He thrashed helplessly, but couldn't escape. The vines struck their target.

Sparks flashed in his vision. The agony spiked, rending his soul in half.

Then, nothing.