“How could Celeste die better than facing fearful odds, for the turtles of the oceans, and the glory of her Gods?” – Thomas Babington Macaulay – that terrible Oblivion movie.
Ice blossomed from Ernodal’s hands as the Nihilith surged forwards. The sounds of battle were suddenly cut off as a frozen sphere closed around him. Immobilised, Ernodal could only wince as the lashing tentacles slammed into the ice. Initial panic gave way to relief as the magic held firm against the monster’s frantic attacks. Ernodal laughed as the iceberg floated slowly upwards, carrying him away from the trashing aberration. As the magic faded and ice began to melt in a familiar voice echoed inside his mind.
“I’m impressed Ernodal. I didn’t think you’d have the ruthlessness to let one of them die in your place.”
Spinning around clumsily while he tried to reorient himself in the flooded chamber, Ernodal saw Celeste press the attack on the Nihilith. Unable to swing her sword underwater she was darting forward like a fencer, divine power flashing from her eyes with every thrust. Wherever she struck sections of the Nihilith’s undead carapace seemed to crack and dissolve away into dust. The horror lashed out viscously but Celeste didn’t appear to feel the blows, seemingly immune to the corrosive slime. For a few moments the Nihilith reeled backwards before the relentless attack, but with a sudden twist of its muscular tail the monster lunged forward, jaws agape.
Celeste didn’t flinch. Her face impassive, she locked eyes with the oncoming abomination and lunged forward, driving her blade to the hilt even as her bones shattered. Ernodal screamed and tried to swim forward but the voice resonated in his skull again.
“Relax Ernodal. She’s dead and rotting where you left her corpse. Remember? Her Gods weren’t listening. But I was. None of you could save her.”
Ernodal flinched. He remembered the long silent trek back to the surface, none of them able to look the others in the eye.
“Such a shame. All that power you’ve stolen from me, all those little demons you command and none of it did you any good. I know how hard it is to be let down by incompetent subordinates. But that’s the risk of stealing without understanding. You’ll never have the right tools for the job.
Ernodal’s demons appeared, swimming around him in a circle.
“What else could you have done? You saw that these two couldn’t even touch the Nihilith. This one might have harmed it, but she would have killed half your friends as well. This one… well, he would have killed your friends and left the Nihilith unharmed. Hilarious.”
“Get out of my head!” The swimming demons vanished.
“Calm down Ernodal. I’m not here to mock your failure. I told you before I could help. You couldn’t save Celeste with any of your demons, but with my guidance you could have. If you’d only asked, I could have sent you someone… special.”
A new demon appeared, wavering and indistinct. Whispers drifted through Ernodal’s mind.
Nexus.
Archetype.
Tutelary.
“Isn’t it magnificent? This one could have saved Celeste. It could save the rest of your friends next time. And all you have to do is ask nicely. Say please”.
Ernodal was silent.
“There’s no catch here Ernodal. We have mutual interests and I don’t want you to fail. But take your time. Think about it. Maybe you need to watch someone else you care about die before you ask for my help. I can wait.”