All of the elves searched the area around us, clearing the larger areas of shrubbery with their greatswords.

“They’re gonna find us at any moment.” Illias whispered. “We should just make a run for it.”

“I agree.” I whispered back. “On three?”

One of the elves came right up to our shrub and spotted us. As he brought his sword up, and before he could shout, I yanked him into the bush by the collar of his armor and knocked him out.

“Three!” I shot up and made a bolt for the other side of the temple so I could take the path back to where Cymone dropped me off.

“Coming!” Illias called out as he caught up to run beside me, holding the greatsword of the elf I just knocked out. He saw me glance at the weapon. “What? Figured I’d use it instead of nothing.”

We continued running until we reached the beginning of the marble pathway that led right back to the city of Ephesus from the Artemisium, when six guardians teleported in front of us. I turned around to meet two times as many elves behind us. All their swords were drawn in their ready stance.

Illias nudged me. “Now would be a good time to‒”

“One step ahead of you.” I concentrated on channeling as much power as I could into my hands, then slammed both fists into the Earth. Just as the corruption spread across the ground in the desert, so too did it here. The white marble turned into a dark purple, and any grass withered away, getting swallowed by the adulterated dirt. I made sure, this time, to avoid hitting Illias, as the magic left a healthy patch of marble for him to stand on.

The elves let out three successive chants as they drove their swords into the ground and slammed their fists together. As they did so, a red protective circle formed around them on the ground. When the corruption made contact with said barriers, it sizzled and retreated, leaving the feet of the guardians untouched. 

“I offered you a peaceful surrender once.” Atemu descended the stairs, along with another dozen elves flanking her on either side. “I will not do so again.”

The guardians surrounding us repositioned their hands on the hilts of their greatswords and cried out the same chant as before. The blood magic seeped outwards from the protective circles in the ground, overcoming the corruption and closing in on Illias and I.

“Any bright ideas?” My friend complained. “I’d rather not drown in blood.”

“Working on it!” I said through gritted teeth.

Illias started heaving in breath after breath, his chest rising considerably with each one, and his veins started to bulge again. This time, he jammed his own stolen greatsword into the ground and squatted into a defensive stance, extending his arms towards either side of him in ‘T’ fashion. As he exhaled through his nose, visible waves of light red condensation came from his nostrils. Each breath pushed back the encroaching blood magic on the ground, but it nonetheless gained more distance than it lost. 

“Where’d you learn to do that?” My jaw hung open.

“Dunno.” He strained his voice. “I‒”

“Don’t speak.” I lowered my voice. “Focus on keeping us safe.”

“How peculiar.” One of the elves pointed at Illias while addressing Atemu. “He’s learned to harness our magic. Perhaps we can turn him into one of us.”

“Perhaps.” The priestess agreed, then turned to look at us. “Why bother fighting? You’re losing more ground than you’re gaining and expending unnecessary energy. You’re stalling for no reason. No one is coming to save you. Just like no one came to save me.”

The Earth rumbled.

“Whoa.” Illias’ stumbled a bit but held his stance. “Was that you?”

“Uh…” I looked at my hands. “Nope. Don’t think so.”

The Earth rumbled again, and this time skeletal arms burst from the ground, piercing the thick layer of blood magic that covered it. Some of the hands planted themselves onto the floor and heaved the rest of their bodies up to the surface, revealing full-on skeletons of varying deformities and sizes. The other hands grabbed the elfs’ legs, rooting them in place.

As the guardians lost concentration to fight back, their spell faded and the ground returned to normal. Atemu and her entourage took in the scene and began backpedaling up the stairs, cutting down the skeletons that charged them and making their way to the Artemisium.

“Sup.” Cymone came running up the marble path from the city. “You weren’t at the rendezvous point.”

“Got into a bit of a snag here.” I shrugged. “I see you got a leopard skin bra.”

She rolled her eyes.

“You abandoned us in the desert!” Illias went to punch her, but instead fell to the ground from exhaustion.

“He’s drained and cranky.” I glanced at him. “We need to get him out of here, as well as Atemu. By the way, when did you learn how to raise the dead?”

“I didn’t.” She pointed to the right. A single man was there, kneeling on the ground with closed eyes a safe distance away from the temple. Both his palms pressed against the grass while pitch black liquid flowed from his hands and into the Earth. 

“Wait…” I squinted. “I know that guy.”

He wore buskins, simple gray trousers and no shirt. His chest was extremely hairy and his bald head glinted in the sunlight. 

“He’d be insulted if you didn’t remember him.” Cymone nudged me. “After all, he’s the one that brought you to El-Arish on his ship.”

“No way‒” I stammered. “Is that Adon?”

“Yes.” She knelt down to pick up Illias and slung his unconscious body over her shoulder. “We can chat more later. Can you deal with Atemu yourself while I get him outta here?”

“I can try.”

“Good luck.” She nodded at me, summoned her magical red ball of energy, and when it dissipated, the two of them were gone. 

I cracked my knuckles and ascended the stairs. Once I reentered the temple, Atemu awaited me, along with twelve guardians, six on either side of her.

“You should’ve run while you had the chance.” Atemu motioned at me with her hand and four of the elves rushed me in a square formation.

“No.” I extended both my hands and two of their greatswords darted into my hands, and I counter charged. “I will not fail you. Not again.”

Once the distance was closed, I slid on my knees past the front two ‒ who still had weapons in hand ‒ and sliced their thighs. Upon reaching the back two in the same slide, I snapped my feet up off the ground and pushed up into them, driving either sword through their hearts. As I tore them from their chests, I bashed the heads of the former two elves with the weapons’ hilts, knocking them out.

“Kill him!” Atemu blared.

The other eight guardians bolted at me and a sphere of red energy appeared above us. Once it dissolved, Cymone came crashing down onto two elves, jamming either of her short swords into the bases of their necks. As she did so, I hurled both greatswords at the enemy. The weapons wedged themselves into the stomachs of two unlucky elves, and the momentum sent them flying backwards a small distance. 

“Not too shabby.” Cymone winked at me.

I roared as my hands ignited with corruption. I grabbed the face of the nearest elf and slammed his head into a column, cracking the marble slightly. His body slid down, leaving a streak of blood on the white stone. 

The rest of the elves retreated, though Cymone picked off two of them as they fled by throwing her shortswords.

The only person who remained in the temple was Atemu.

“How could you!” She fell to her knees, sobbing. “You almost killed me, then left me to rot at the hands of Artemisia!”

“I‒” I walked slowly towards her, but Cymone snatched my shoulder and pulled me back.

“Careful.” Her tone was soft. “She could be tricking you.”

The clattering of bones and cries of the elves echoed from outside the temple, but all those sounds were muffled. All I could focus on was the weeping of Atemu.

“Tricking me?” I combed my sweaty bangs out of my eyes. “She’s not a devious person. How could she be tricking me?”

“Your priestess seems to be under the influence of Artemisia’s corruption.” She sighed. “Literally and figuratively.”

“So then what do we do?”

“Knock her out.”

“What?” I hissed.

“We can figure out how to heal her later.” She reasoned. “But right now we need to leave before more of those damned guardians get here, or worse yet, members of the cult of Artemis.”

“Fine.” I agreed. “Let’s just make it‒”

Atemu blitzed us, her eyes still glassy from crying. Corrupted light magic emanated from her arms as well. While I couldn’t react in time, Cymone had no problem sweeping her. The priestess thudded onto the marble and the back of her head crashed against it. She was out cold.

“Look.” I pointed at Atemu. “The corruption is spreading from her shoulder to her neck and chest.”

“That’s not good.” She scooped up the priestess’ body. 

“What does it mean?”

“We’re running out of time.” She handed me the body, then dashed out of the temple. “Come on! Let’s get Adon and leave this place.” 

I followed her out. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”