The Two Faced Goddess: Death
The Two Faced Goddess hissed. The Grievous One’s claw tips were laced with poison and Erris Eritrayeaux found the searing pain quite unexpected. She’d missed the Prince’s twin and he was still wreaking havoc below. Those were the pistols Sofia had salvaged. She had not recognised them then, but she did now – they belonged to a different age, different world and she had destroyed them a millennia ago.
‘What have you done, Sister?’ she growled, beginning to see the thread that wound its way through her careful plans. It seemed that imprisonment in the Door had not hindered her Sister’s ability to meddle! There was a possibility her plans would not come to fruition.
Gritting her teeth she attacked the Grievous One. Whatever happened, she would not go down without a fight! She bared her teeth in a smile as swords and claws rained down blows upon each other in a blur of speed. She’d trained her General well…but, the tip of a black blade pierced the Grievous One’s side, but the Grievous One avoided it and what should have left a gaping hole was little more than a minor inconvenience.
Once more swords and claws clashed, screeching as metal scraped upon metal, showering sparks. The Grievous One’s claws slid down the blades towards the Two Faced Goddess. Twisting she dislodged the claws, but the execution was slow and clumsy, harder than it should have been.
‘What have you done to me, Sister?’ she panted, withdrawing. She felt…nothing. Where her sister’s presence had once lodged within her was now an empty void.
Again swords and claws clashed in a deadly dance, with bullets whining about them. A quick glance showing the Goddess that the Prince’s twin had freed all her prisoners and was now shooting at her and the General.
Rage flowed through her veins. ‘How dare these insignificant creatures fight back!’ She attacked the Grievous One with renewed fury, driving back her former student, her black swords slicing through everything around her, including the stalactites hanging from the cavern’s ceiling. The stalactites began to fall.
She watched in amusement as the people below scattered, and then horror as one stalactite went crashing into her sarcophagus, the point impaling her mummified body, her skeletal remains turning to dust. Gasping she fell, excruciating agony radiating through her. At the last she righted herself and landed beside what was left of her sarcophagus, spitting blood and her ankle twisting beneath her. The Prince’s twin stood before her, eyes wide in shock. She lunged, both black blades aimed at his heart.
‘No,’ said her Prince, stepping between them, the points of her swords sliding into his chest and out the other side.
Shocked, she stopped. This wasn’t meant to happen – he was meant to live. She needed him to live. She tried to withdraw the blades, but he held them and they glistened red.
‘I can’t let you do that,’ he said, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth, meeting her eyes.
‘Marek!’ whispered his brother.
‘No,’ said Erris, finding herself in a desert mountain range. He stood between her and the refugees she’d been ordered to kill. But it was Sofia who stood there, not her. She saw the ring on Sofia’s finger pulse and felt the answer in the Prince’s flesh and bones.
‘You win, Sister,’ she said, closing her eyes, ‘Even if I win against my General, I lose.’ She did not move when the Grievous One landed behind her, nor did she defend herself as the Grievous One’s claws sliced through her body; aware as her body fell to pieces and the ring on her finger ignited, consuming her in a sudden, intense conflagration. Within in moments she was ash, and all awareness, all knowledge, and all feeling was gone.