A crashing wave of energy lapped at the edges of Markos's consciousness beyond the barrier; his eyes widened as he realized he was out of time - the templars were coming. Coppery blood filled his mouth as the overpressure from the aphotic's assault slammed into his armor, sending him to the ground as it crushed his lungs. His helmet rolled away; his arms pinned against the snow as the demon pressed its bulk over him. His sword only remained in his hand from sheer determination.
Baleful blue eyes bared down at him from writhing darkness. Hideous laughter filled the clearing over the sound of Sintija struggling against the demon's trap. Markos's armor burned against him from the rejection of the magical foul thing trying to rip him apart. Drool sizzled as it struck his cheek.
"We're not dying!" Markos repeated to himself in a mantra, fighting against the aphotic's tightening grip. He thought of Iliana and Caelyn waiting for him to arrive with Sintija. It was too important to fail here. It was a powerful aphotic, but it was just one. His odds decreased if the templars turned their attention on him once the aphotic was down or if they split their focus between the three targets.
"Markos!" Sintija called for him. Markos felt her magic building up at a frantic pace, but she was at her limit - he felt the edge blocking her from reaching the point she desperately needed to overcome the aphotic's power. It was worrisome, and there was no time for him to explain. He needed them both at full potential to defeat this monster. Markos reached through the web of the Word that connected him to Sintija and forced his energy through it.
Markos's energy crashed against the limiter within Sintija's soul and shattered the barrier, flooding her with a wave of reassuring heat. His body moved as his focus was elsewhere, flipping up with a fierce slash at the aphotic - the sudden onslaught drove it backward. The aphotic hissed, its claws raked against Marko's armor. With it snap, its jaws caught around the blade of the templar's sword instead of his face.
"Whoever you are, I'm sorry for what happened, but I'm not dying today," Markos grunted as he managed to knock the aphotic back with a burst of magic and strength. "If you stop this, we might be able to heal you."
The aphotic's eyes narrowed, but for a moment, the mask peeled away to reveal an almost human face, covered with freckles with glowing blue eyes before it snapped back into place. Its claws dug into its smooth cheeks in recognition of what it once was. Markos struck at it with another burst of magic to widen the gap between them to regain his footing. He thought for a moment that his plea worked - that maybe they could try to pull the ember back from the darkness that consumed her.
The former ember fought to regain herself within the nightmare of agony and rage. The aphotic whimpered in pain, the shadowy mass of her body waivered - shifting between the demonic and what lay beneath.
Markos held his breath and sword cautiously up. "Did it work?"
Sintija gasped as the aphotic's hold on her loosened, and the elf fell to the ground behind them. Markos didn't look back, focusing on the potential threat of what was in front of him. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as he felt the murderous intent of something rapidly approaching. It wasn't the templar hunting party; it was something else attracted to the disturbance despite the barrier. It was worse than bad. They needed to run. He needed to save at least one of these lost souls.
"I CAN'T!" The aphotic wailed, her voice echoing and strangled. "THEY KILLED HIM!" She held her head as her despair exploded outward in a wave, knocking Markos off his feet as it hit him.
"It doesn't have to end for you! You're not alone!" Markos offered, scrambling to his feet. "You don't have to die today! You need to come with us before the others get here!"
The aphotic shook violently. "N..no! All over. Please, it hurts, it hurts. It hurts. Let. Me. Go. Home. I can't." Shadows retreated enough for the ember to re-emerge. A torn frock covered a pale, trembling body marred by a patchwork of scars. Markos realized that she had not become blonde to taunt him; the ember had been initially blonde before she was consumed and corrupted by her pain. "He's coming. Hurry."
Sintija regained her feet, moving swiftly to the other side of the aphotic. "What is your name?" Her voice was a whisper on the breeze that Markos felt more than heard. She held her white pine bow, the drawstring taut without an arrow.
Markos raised his hand, his eyes wide. He didn't want anyone else to die, but the ember had accepted her end and was fighting to stay herself in her final moments. "Who is coming?"
"My name is Lorelei," the ember's voice was exhausted and heavily accented from southern Drassin; it was normal. She clawed her arms in a hugging motion. Black smoking tears rolled down her cheeks. "It's the... jailer... he's," She shrieked as her human form became unstable. "NOW. DO. IT. NOW." Her voice echoed as she met Markos's gaze, her eyes pleading.
"May Mara welcome you with open arms and ease your pain," Sintija softly prayed as she released the drawstring with a loud twang. A bolt of light pierced through the ember's heart. She smiled as her body shattered into shards of obsidian on the snow.
Markos sheathed his sword, grabbing Sintija's arm, whistling for Elias as he pulled her towards his horse. "We have to go now." His voice was harsher than he expected; tears froze on his cheeks. He didn't have time to grieve for Lorelei and how she suffered to twist into a demon. The thought of how that could've been Sintija or Iliana haunted him.
He threw Sintija onto the saddle before jumping off himself, tearing off into the night, sending the barrier spell scattering in a cloud of dust. He heard the approaching rumble of hooves and felt them all coming. "We can talk about what just happened later. I will not let them catch you," he muttered as he wove through the trees. He reached a hand back and waved his fingers, sending a pulse of intention to the ground behind him to cover their tracks and muffle the sounds of his mount and the dog.
"First the Interloper and now the Jailer? Who is doing this? Why are they doing this? This is cruel," Markos inwardly stewed. "It's not enough to commit genocide, but now someone is torturing embers into aphotics?" He searched his memory for a young ember by the name of Lorelei. The Sisterhood was small, but he was only familiar with a handful of embers sent out into the world with the templars. It was a death sentence, from what Iliana had explained. So, was the man Lorelei mourned another templar? He had no other frame of reference.
He thought of Iliana there in Lorelei's place. It made his heart sink and chilled him. Lorelei needed to be the last. It was time to slay the demon dragon. "We need to break this cycle."