The throne room was in shambles, the stairs leading up to the high seat were cracked and cratered by missed blows. The wind howled past the massive gap in the eastern wall. The man who had been sent through it by Thrake hadn’t returned or attempted to return, dead probably. The King of the Azar stood at the center of the room, a faint violet glow rippling off of his chest and shoulders. His expression was stony, eyes unblinking in the face of the man who had lead the charge and ended the lives of each and every one of his dear friends.

He would have time to mourn them when it was over and read the letter that Tiisha had left for him. For now, all he could see was the foe in front of him. He’d abhorred violence ever since he was a boy, it was never the answer to anything in his eyes. Yet the humans had finally forced his hand. They’d stomped over his pride, his joy, his love, and his home. He would not, could not, let them get away from this. He'd stood guard over the Throne where he could enable the lift network once the danger was gone. The final line of defense for their people. He raised his head high and eyed the bronze-skinned human. The man stood as still as the grave, a small smile playing across his lips. In his right hand was a sword made out of ruby, its edge gleaming with a strange light that felt like it was reaching toward him. It made his skin crawl.

“You didn’t help your friend,” Thrake said cooly.

“He wasn’t my friend,” The human said.

“Don’t you think it would have been better to fight me as a team?”

The human tilted his head and looked Thrake up and down, “Where’s the fun in that?”

“Savage,” Thrake spat, “Barbaric.”

“That’s what the old man says about you lot, not surprised to see he was wrong. Almost a shame, really, but I have my own goals here,” The human said, crouching a little before kicking off the ground. The instant he did so, a flash of light erupted from his free hand, hurtling toward Thrake’s face. An attempt to blind him? Thrake grunted and closed his eyes, following the movement of the air around him. He did not need to see to fight. He turned to the right and drove his fist up and into the abdomen of his target. There was a painful crunch of cartilage beneath the human's metallic skin and the sound of a garbled cry as he was thrown backward from the impact.

Thrake marched in that direction, there was no need to chase after him and waste energy. He felt the air shift again and threw a backhand strike to the left, again sending the human away with a painful crack. He heard some stonework upend from the human's impact against the ground. The light that filled the room flickered and died, Thrake opening his eyes again and turned towards where the man had landed. Gone. He looked up and found the human bearing down on him from above. Thrake drew in his breath and opened his mouth, releasing a howl of wind that sent the human back the way he had come.

The human landed on his feet and rolled his shoulders, blood trickling from his lips, “Wind magic.”

Thrake didn’t respond, he kept his relentless pace, marching forward as flames began to wrap themselves around his fists. The violet light grew more intense, power boiling off of his body and causing steam to build around him. The human glanced to the right and then to the left before darting towards the throne, rushing up the steps and away from Thrake before charging at him again from the side. You stay away from there! Thrake turned and drove a haymaker of fire into the Human’s face. This time, though, the blow didn’t seem to do as much damage. The human only stumbled back a few feet. His jaw dislocating partially. It reset of its own accord with a sickening pop.

Thrake narrowed his eyes, what was happening? His blows weren’t any weaker. The human chuckled and Thrake threw himself at him, moving from slow heavy blows to a succession of strikes. He drove his knee up into the man’s chest, drove his elbow down onto the back of his neck, and grabbed him by his arm. The human grunted and spluttered, struggling to regain control of the situation. His sword dangling in his hand. Thrake roared, pivoting and swinging the human over his shoulder and onto the ground, driving him at least an inch into the stony floor. He didn't stop, with a heave he lifted the man off the ground and swung him to the ground again and again and again. Each impact pushed the man's body further into the stonework at their feet. He stopped after a few moments, releasing the limp arm and looming over his prey.

A flicker of light rippled around the human’s body, his wounds already beginning to heal. Thrake didn’t relent, he drew his right hand back and extended a blade of water from his fingertips. The water spun rapidly along the edge creating a cutting tool sharp enough to rip through stone. He drove it down towards the human who rolled out of the way as fast as he could. Not fast enough, though, as the cutting edge sliced through his upper arm, leaving a deep gash. He let out a cry of pain and nearly dropped his weapon, staggering to his feet as Thrake came after him for another attempt.

“You really are a demon, aren’t you?” The human laughed through bloody teeth. Arrogant words but the fear was real in his eyes. He dove, red light rising up off of his metallic skin. Thrake pivoted and continued his attack but found the ruby blade clashing with his own watery weapon. To his surprise, the sword didn’t pass through the water at all. An instant later his watery blade flickered and died, Thrake moved back but was caught by a kick to the center of his chest while he was still in the air. He hurtled backward, hitting one of the far walls. Pain lanced up his back and his vision blurred for half a second. He ripped himself from the wall, landing on the ground.

He found the human charging toward him, sword raised. Thrake whipped his right arm up and stones rose rapidly from the ground, blocking the charge. The human darted to the right, trying to dodge the incoming blows. Thrake twisted his wrist and shoved forward with his other hand, a gout of flame forming into a sphere that hurtled toward the floor at the feet of the human. It exploded on impact, throwing the human back. Then the strangest thing happened, the human seemed to flicker and vanish in mid-air. An illusion? Thrake blinked, glancing around. The human was nowhere to be seen and his back was still to the wall.

Hot pain exploded in Thrake’s belly as the human materialized in front of him, a wild sneer on his face. Thrake looked down, the ruby weapon deep in his gut. He gasped and snarled, grabbing the weapon by the blade. He looked up into the cocky human’s eyes and drew on the power of his Sovereign aspect. Thrake’s eyes turned violet, the glow that had been rippling off of his shoulders sinking into his skin. He bore his teeth and raised his fist, driving it down into the Human’s face. There was a crunching sound as bone crumbled beneath the force of the blow, losing his grip on his sword.

“I am The Demon!” Thrake roared, ripping the blade from his gut and tossing it aside. His Sovereign regeneration began to warm the skin around the wound. He stomped forward, “I hate this Aspect but I will embrace what I am if I must!” He bellowed at the Human who looked up at him with fear and confusion. His confidence gone. “I assume one of your aspects gives you resistances, yes? There is no resisting pure magic!” Thrake threw his arm out and a violet-glowing projection of a clawed hand erupted from his palm, grabbing the human around the torso. He whipped his arm back and drew him in, driving another punch into his body. Ribs cracked beneath the force and the human’s body was sent hurtling away again.

He dropped the man on the ground and the wretch scrambled for his weapon. Thrake kicked him, sending him crashing into a wall. He stalked forward, fury boiling his blood, power burning in his veins. He brought all of his might to bear and then some. Around him, the flickering visages of three of the lords of the wildlands began to press out of the air. The human rolled over onto his back, eyes wide, "I killed those things!"

"Ascendants are so foolish, stupid, they do not understand what it means to embody something, they wave power around like a toy but do not embrace it," The great serpent said as its head took form.

"They die, just like any other mortal," The blazing salamander growled.

"You will drown in your suffering, little human," The sea beast bellowed, "Our grief will be your culling."

Thrake raised his head, "You thought my four were the only ones with Patrons? I possess all four! You witless coward!" He grit his teeth, "I know the histories of the cycle, I know what your people do to our men, women, children. I know how you scatter us," He kept himself from glancing at the throne. "I will die before you so much as look at my people!"

"You should be dead already!" The human shrieked.

Thrake stalked forward and raised both of his fists, his body growing larger, "I'm glad you seem to be indestructible, human, I really am," Thrake said, "I am going to hurt you for as long as it takes."

He bore down and delivered a rain of punches, crushing blows that sent stonework, tapestries, and history flying around them. He lifted the human and hurled him across the room, flames leaping from his fingertips and cooking the man alive. The human screamed in agony only for the flames to go out a moment later and his body begin to heal all over again. The human scrambled to his feet and Thrake could sense his aspects starting to rise to the surface again. Thrake stepped and vanished, the next instant he was looming over the human, his blazing eyes staring down on him. "How?" Thrake demanded, reaching down and grabbing the terrified man by the face.

"How did you kill my Four? You pathetic, wretched, stupid man!" He raged, "It is an insult! You fight like a child! How was it you? How did you do it? What trickery did you use?" He bellowed, wrenching his arm to the left and hurling him towards the wall beneath the throne.

"The sword, little King," The Serpent hissed above them.

"A blade of banes," The Salamander gurgled.

"It disrupts magic, banishes the summoned," The great sea beast rumbled.

Thrake looked down at the sword laying on the ground, its ruby edge still haunting him with its strange, leering gaze. He turned away from it, he would investigate the sword later. He approached the human and raised his fists over his head, clasping them together. The broken man tried to scramble away, racing towards his sword. Thrake lowered his hands and turned before he snapped his hand out and drew on his Sovereign aspect, redirecting its power from his wound. The pain had faded enough. A flicker of violet light bloomed on his palm only to fade into nothingness.

He blinked, confused as fresh pain erupted in his gut and a wave of weakness passed over him. He gasped, his arm falling to his side and fell to a knee. He reached for his abdomen and pulled his hand back. Blood? His regeneration should have taken care of that injury in an instant. The pain had been a nuisance but-The sword disrupts magic. He swore. It didn't just disrupt magic, its effects lingered! His rage had blinded him! He blinked a few times as his vision went fuzzy and he looked toward the human who was crawling towards his sword, a grin on his face.

The human glanced at Thrake, “One good hit is all it takes with the Hero’s Sword,” he rasped, his voice broken up by his damaged body.

Thrake’s expression twisted with rage, “I may very well die today!” He bellowed, forcing himself to his feet. The violet light burned on his skin, brighter than before. If that was what it took then he would hold himself up with raw power alone! He stormed forward as the Human reached his weapon, frantically trying to snatch it up. "I will be the last! There is someone coming who will bring this entire world to its knees!"

The human threw himself forward and brushed the handle of his weapon with his fingers. Thrake didn't relent, he kept his slow march going, bearing down on him. A wild grin spread across his face, "If I am just a stepping stone for that person, then so be it! I will die with a smile on my face! The next cycle will be the last!" He bellowed, "This world will be free of it one way or the other!"

The human finally snatched up his sword, turned, and wildly swung it at Thrake. “What the hell are you? Die already!” The human shouted, Thrake ignored him, grabbing the weapon again by the blade and ripping it out of his hand.

He bore bloody teeth down on the man who scrambled backward, holding his arms over his head. "My people will live on!"

Thrake raised his fists and felt another wave of weakness wash over him, he staggered back and dropped again to a knee. The human lowered his arms and looked at Thrake in surprise. He barked out a hesitant laugh and forced himself to his feet, another faint glow washing over his body followed by the popping sound of bones being mended. He stood up straight and tall, looking down at Thrake with all the arrogance he could muster, “You fought well, Demon King, but your time is-”

A wave of cold passed over Thrake and he shuddered, wondering if this was the last of his vital energy leaving his body. It was strange, though, it felt like it was coming from behind him. He looked up to see the Human staring at something in that direction. Thrake turned his head and his eyes widened. A woman in a white flowing gown stood at the hole in the wall where he had thrown the first attacker. Her face was covered in a mask that sported a silky veil. Teyva. He wasn’t sure how it was possible, but it was Teyva. He chuckled, then barked out a noisy laugh. The human whipped his head in Thrake’s direction and frowned.

Thrake could only grin as he sat down on the ground to rest, resting his arms on his knees. Time for a break. "She's here," He said. He'd let her handle the rest.

“Long live the Queen.”