Monster fight

The night bent, rippling with magic, as the monster clawed its way into reality.

Lyra watched in sick fascination as it pulled itself up from the cracked black crystal, tendrils of oily darkness twisting into something almost but not quite human.

It towered over her, hunched and spined, arms too long, fingers tipped in claws that shimmered like broken glass.

Its face was a twisted mockery, all slashes and shadows, with burning red eyes that locked onto hers.

It grinned, its mouth splitting wider than any human jaw, teeth serrated and dripping shadow. And then—it spoke.

"Well, well… Celestian. This is your doing, isn't it? I haven't felt air like this in years. You always come dressed for a funeral?"

Its voice was a deep, echoing sneer, layered with a hundred other voices—a symphony of hate and humiliation.

Lyra's stomach tightened. Most monsters from broken crystals were mindless things, all hunger and rage. But this… this one remembered pain. This one could think.

She forced her own fear down. She was no helpless girl. She was Lyra of Celestia—top of her class, chosen for this cursed rivalry, and tonight, the only thing standing between this abomination and an unsuspecting world.

She drew on her magic. The air around her shimmered, a purple haze rolling off her skin like smoke.

She expanded her consciousness, weaving a warded zone tight, invisible walls that blocked the monster's presence from human eyes and minds.

No one in the dorms or the street would see the battle, not unless Lyra failed. Not unless she died.

She raised her hand, purple fire igniting along her palm, fierce and hungry. "You're not welcome here."

The monster laughed, sound grinding and awful. "I'm never welcome. That's the point." Its shadow twisted, multiplying, claws scraping sparks from the concrete. "Tell me, are you afraid to bleed?"

Lyra didn't answer. She moved first—fast, spinning a lance of purple flame and hurling it straight at the monster's chest.

It screamed, shrieked, twisting as the fire burned through its ribs, but it didn't fall. Instead, it lunged, impossibly quick for its size, jaws snapping shut just shy of her shoulder.

She dodged, rolling across the ground, dress torn at the hem. Her magic surged, twin arcs of violet fire spinning from her fingertips. She slashed at its legs, trying to trip it, but the monster leapt back, eyes glowing brighter.

"You think you're strong, little queen?" it mocked. "You only burn what's given. I take."

It lashed out, shadow arms elongating, claws raking a shield of fire Lyra conjured just in time.

Sparks exploded. The warded zone crackled and shrieked, invisible to the world but heavy on her mind.

Sweat broke on her brow. This was nothing like the duels she'd fought at the fencing club, nothing like the friendly bouts with Claire or even the desperate, cold showdowns in her own world. This was raw survival. If she faltered, people would die.

She ducked another swipe, flames blooming from her hands. She sent a whip of fire at its face, forcing it to stumble back. The monster's laugh turned sharp, mocking.

"Is this all? You're supposed to be Celestia's champion. You're weak, Lyra. Your friends are weak. Even that demon slut you chase—she's only ever hungry."

Lyra snarled, letting her anger become fuel. "You don't know anything about me," she spat, sending a spiral of flame at its heart. This time, the monster staggered, hissing as the fire left burns that didn't fade. It glared at her, hate so pure it was almost physical.

"Enough talk," it hissed. "I'll rip your soul out and eat it raw."

It surged, impossibly fast, and Lyra barely brought up her shield in time. Its claws tore through the magic, scoring her arm. Pain flared, hot and red.

She stumbled, feeling blood soak her sleeve, but grit her teeth and spun, launching a volley of purple fireballs that exploded against its torso.

The monster screamed, staggering, smoke pouring from its wounds. Lyra pressed the attack—this was her chance.

She darted in close, hands blazing, using every trick she'd learned from a lifetime of training. She dodged left, then right, circling, searching for the weak spot in its armor.

But it was learning too.

Suddenly, its shadow snapped around her ankle, yanking her off her feet. She crashed to the pavement, head spinning, and the monster loomed over her, claws raised for the kill.

"You die here, Celestian," it whispered, mouth splitting wide. "And then I'll feast on all your pretty little friends."

Lyra gritted her teeth, willing her magic to spike. A dome of purple fire exploded around her, forcing the monster back, but it didn't break. It circled, eyes glittering, searching for an opening.

"You're strong," it sneered, "but not strong enough."

It lunged again, claws slashing. Lyra ducked, but not fast enough—a talon ripped through her side, hot pain blooming just under her ribs.

She gasped, stumbling, blood dripping down her dress. The monster seized her by the throat, lifting her off the ground.

Her vision swam. The world narrowed to a single point of agony. She clawed at its fingers, magic flickering weakly, breath stolen by its iron grip.

It leaned in close, breath icy. "Last words?"

Lyra summoned everything she had. "Go… to… hell."

She unleashed a final, desperate surge—fire blazing in both hands, searing the monster's arm. It howled, dropping her to the ground.

She collapsed, coughing, every muscle trembling with exhaustion. Her vision darkened at the edges, the world spinning wildly.

She tried to rise, but her knees buckled. The monster loomed, ready to finish it.

Then, through the haze, Lyra felt the temperature drop.

A wind howled unnatural, chilling. The shadows shifted, the air filling with the scent of smoke and burnt iron. She blinked, struggling to focus.

Black flames erupted across the zone—pure, seething darkness, hotter than any fire she had ever conjured.

The monster shrieked, staggering away from her. The black fire ate at its limbs, its face, the darkness consuming the darkness in a way that made her skin crawl and her heart leap with hope.

Alayah.

The monster screamed, trying to escape, but the black flames coiled around it, squeezing tight. In the chaos, Lyra felt hands strong, sure lifting her up, cradling her close.

For a second, she was weightless, floating in arms that felt both alien and safe.

Her vision flickered. Alayah's face swam into focus fierce, jaw clenched, eyes blazing with purpose. For the first time since the fight began, Lyra let herself breathe.

Then the world spun, black fire and pain and Alayah's arms, and everything faded to a blur.