A distant memory passed through his mind—one where he stood with Mona, whacking away at their training boulder as they had agreed to do.

  “Get up,” she’d said.

  Yig had wanted to stay on the ground, savoring the bliss of stillness, and had refused.

  “What do you mean no?” she snapped, in a rare burst of true anger. “You said we were going to break open the doors to paradise. We can’t do that by being lazy! We have to keep moving—even if it’s just a little bit!”

  “But it hurts,” Yig had groaned.

  “Then smile! You smile when you’re happy, right?”

  Yig had nodded—though the motion was rather pitiful.

  “Then if you’re smiling, things can’t be that bad. Right?”

  Yig remained kneeling on the cold ground. He scratched the floor, packing grit beneath his fingernails. Blood dripped from the cut in his cheek, and he spat a red glob onto the ice. Then, from cheek to cheek, he forced his best smile.

  “Right.”

  He stood and began walking toward the fiend.

  To his surprise, Thuzen proved to be a useful ally. With a spin of his staff, he launched an invisible force that struck the fiend in the stomach, rippling across its body as though it had been physically punched.

  Shack grabbed the creature’s arm and clung tightly, drawing a dagger and stabbing it over and over.

  Jordan charged into the fray, hammer raised. The fiend noticed and ducked—both to pin Shack down and avoid the swing. Shack buckled beneath the shifting weight and lost his grip, retreating as he stumbled. Jordan pressed forward. He swung the hammer at the crouched monster—but the creature caught it with both palms, yanked it from Jordan’s hands, and flung it back toward the cave entrance.

  Jordan hesitated, then threw a few punches. The fiend didn’t seem to mind the change in tactics and struck back with the same hand, slashing Jordan across the chest with its jagged fingernails.

  “It’s quick!” Jordan yelled to Shack, still slipping from the blow.

  “All we have to do is distract it while Yig grabs the sword,” Shack shouted back. “But if he won’t get off his arse, I guess one of us will have to do.”

  Yig stepped up behind them, flashing a cheesy grin. “What do you mean? I’m right here.” He cracked a few joints and sighed. “Now step aside!”

  Jordan and Shack stepped forward before Yig could finish, both wearing deep scowls. Yig clenched his hand so tightly a bone in his wrist popped.

  They’re so stubborn. Why don’t they just turn back?

  Idiots.

  But I guess we have that in common.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  With a scream and a stomp of its foot, the fiend let loose a disorienting shriek. The walls shook. Ice above them rattled—and then fell. Jordan and Shack stood frozen, scanning their minds for a way to dodge the falling shards. It looked like they might not move in time.

  Thuzen perched on Jordan’s shoulder, pointed upward, and flung the falling icicles aside with a burst of unseen force.

  Yig drew his frail sword and slashed away a few sharp chunks. One icicle landed beside him, cutting into his shin and sending him crashing to the ground. Gritting his teeth, he ripped an icicle from the floor and hurled it at the fiend. It didn’t hurt the beast—but it did amuse it.

  It stretched out its arms and opened its hands, revealing ten needle-like nails. Yig raised his weapon in defense, blocking the beast’s furious flurry of slashes.

  While the fiend focused on Yig, Jordan pleaded with Thuzen.

  “Throw me toward my hammer.”

  “Do I look like I’ve got the muscle for that?”

  “I meant—can you throw me with your magic-stick-wind-thing?”

  “Bwahaha... I knew what you meant. Get some space and run at me.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Do it. Quickly now.”

  Jordan backed up a few paces, then charged toward the old man. Thuzen raised his staff horizontally for Jordan to kick against. As he did, Thuzen blasted him across the room with a pulse that shook the air.

  Jordan flew past the fiend and landed, skidding over the icy ground. He reached out, caught his hammer mid-slide, and used its weight to slow his momentum. With his weapon back in hand, he charged in again. Hammer overhead, muscles taut, he brought it down with a crunch, smashing the beast’s hand just before it could slash Yig. The blow held the creature in place, the hammer pinning its hand to the ground.

  Yig grinned and seized the chance. He skidded across the floor and darted behind the fiend toward a slab of ice where Darleth’s sword stood embedded. Though buried deep, its cyan blade still shimmered. The golden hilt sparkled—the falcon head far more majestic up close. With the gleam of metal reflecting in his eyes, Yig stepped up and grasped the hilt. He pulled with all his strength, feeling the strain ripple down his back and through his arms.

  But it didn’t budge.

  What? It’s stuck! I can’t get it out.

  He tried again, teeth gritted, arms trembling.

  Damn—it really won’t come out.

  He glanced over his shoulder, eyes darting between the sword and the battle. Shack had jumped onto the fiend’s back, clinging to its cape and stabbing wildly with his dagger. While it flailed, Jordan wound up for another blow, his eye twitching from tension. The creature reached back for Shack, but Shack leapt clear and rolled to break his fall.

  Jordan swung.

  His hammer smashed into the fiend’s stomach, knocking it off its feet. His face twisted into a wide-eyed, savage grin.

  “There it is!” he yelled, his hunter instincts kicking in.

  As the fiend slid across the ice, sharp protrusions on its back carved deep scars in the floor, spraying shards like powdered snow. It dragged itself upright with twitching fingers, licking the blood from its gums with a long, slime-coated tongue. Jordan met its gaze with an equally crazed look.

  “That hurt him!” he shouted.

  “Seems so,” Shack said.

  “Your friend’s at the sword,” Thuzen added. “All we need to do now is stall the thing.”

  “Stall it?” Jordan asked. “Stall it for what? Yig has the sword!”

  Yig resumed pulling, panic mounting.

  The fiend charged.

  Jordan turned to get a better look. “What’s going on? Pull it out!”

  “It’s really stuck! I don’t know what’s happening!”

  Shack gritted his teeth as he leapt onto the fiend once again.

  “Yig, you’d better damn well pull that sword, or I’ll walk up there and rip it out myself!”

  “How can you be sure it’ll come out for me?”

  Shack hit the ground hard after being thrown from the monster’s back. Winded but determined, he still managed to shout:

  “Don’t think like that! You think she would’ve wanted you to?”

  What am I thinking? I know what he means. But that doesn’t make it true.

  Yig’s grip slackened slightly as he stared at the weapon. The clash of battle behind him faded from his hearing, and his vision narrowed on the shining hilt.

  A sudden, sharp pain stabbed through his head, shocking his body into a reflexive turn.

  But all he saw was endless darkness.

  The chill of the cave was gone. Nothing remained familiar. He stood in a void—vast, silent, and eternal.

  SO exciting to see people finally reading it, and I hope you continue to enjoy it.

  -MysteryM0n