Lyzandred felt the words unlock and release in him the arcane power that had become such an addiction in his life that the constant pursuit of it had fueled his mad desire for immortality. He could see before him the small transparent blue orb that grew at amazing speed to surround him and then exploded and sent shards of raw magik as sharp as any dagger hurtling in all directions outward. It was all the five combatants could do when they saw the orb and heard Brion's warning was to drop to the floor in an attempt to avoid the oncoming shards.
Unseen but just as powerful was the concussive force of the blast which sent them sprawling across the floor. The lich held his arms outstretched howling with laughter! None of these weak mortals were a match for him! First he would finish draining the red-haired virgin mage and then he would make all of them his slaves forever!
* * *
Brion was the closest to the lich and saw the light blue transparent orb begin to form. He immediately knew what it was and tried to warn the others before the inevitable happened.
"Force orb!" he shouted as loud as possible.
Finely honed battle instincts forced his body sideways to minimize the area on which they would strike him. The shards penetrated his plate armor and the chainmail hauberk he wore beneath it; he felt their sharp edges slash deeply across his chest and back. The wounds were deep and clean as if made by razors. The spells' concussive blast threw him back where landed with a loud thud. The shock of the blast and the hard landing knocked him senseless for a moment but as he lay there he could feel the blood as it ran down his body in warm rivulets from his many wounds.
The sound of mad laughter filled his ears, the lich was laughing at them. Five experienced combatants had come at him and he had repelled them, thrown them back with a spell against which they had no defense. Brion felt weak against this creature and that angered him. This undead mage had lived for hundreds of years draining the life from young maidens like Eryca. How many others had there been? How many other lives had this foul perversion of life destroyed or left in ruins? If he failed today, what would become of his beloved, Eryca? Would she languish by his side for hundreds of years away from the warmth and light of real life?
No! He would not let that happen! Through the slightest chance they had found each other and the love they felt for each other was beyond his capability to put into words. Brion knew they shared a love so deep and so pure that no mad lich's magik would ever be able to erase it from her heart. It would stay with Eryca forever tormenting her from the inside out, that missing piece of her heart. Inside his own heart Brion knew he did not want to live without her. If he could not save Eryca this day then it would because his body was so broken and wounded that it was no longer able to carry through with the will of his heart and mind.
Struggling to his knees and throwing of his helmet so that he could breathe more freely through his pain; Brion looked up and saw the lich cackling, mocking their efforts to defeat him. Brion saw the jewel, the dull ugly purple thing flecked with green in the thick silver setting, the seat of the Arch-Lich's power. He knew what he must do and he steeled himself against the pain of his many bleeding wounds. Standing he turned his sword point down in his grasp and with the last of his strength sprinted the distance to his enemy.
"Rrraaaaawwwweerrrr!!"
The young Knight of the Argent Griffon roared as he leaped into the air. Lyzandred looked up in time to see the warrior coming at him and with a wave of his hand and a word; he fired another volley of blue arrows at Brion. However, Brion's momentum was such that while several of the magik missiles pierced him completely, they could not stop him. With his sword downward he used the last of his strength to drive it straight through the jewel and into Lyzandred's chest. The sheer force of the blow carried them to the ground; such was the power of Brion's last desperate strike that it buried half of the sword in the stone floor pinning the undead to the grey flagstones. As the gem shattered there was such an enormous explosion of arcane power that it threw the armored knight off of his opponent. Brion was forcibly thrown back and slammed into a pillar where he fell to the floor.
Lifting his head Brion watched Lyzandred scream and shake as light seemed to pour out of the silver setting, light of all colors. In the brilliance Brion swore that he could see white shadows almost like the ones in the courtyard above, only feminine. Possibly the souls of the countless other maidens the lich had drained over the years? All of this flooded out from the broken gem and disappeared up into the darkness of the vaulted ceiling. Lyzandred's shriek echoed through the circular chamber as his body shook and withered completely, what flesh remained was turned to dust leaving just the skeleton and the scraps of his empty garments.
* * *
Deloraa heard Lyzandred's shriek from where she lay be strangled by the inhuman grip of her daughter. Even though she couldn't see what had happened from the noise and light that followed she guessed what had transpired. The evil demoness looked up into her daughter's eyes and saw the change in Eryca's countenance. Though it would take time for her youth and vitality to return, her eyes no longer stared ahead blankly and Eryca's grip on her throat loosened as the unnatural strength of undeath left her.
Shifting her weight Deloraa threw her daughter off of her and rolling to all fours took off into the darkness as fast as she could. Lyzandred the Mad had been defeated and she was in no condition to battle the five companions who had destroyed him; better to escape now and save her own skin for she still had her own designs and desires to attend to.
* * *
Lord Brion staggered to his feet and limped over to where Eryca had been earlier. He found her lying on the floor next to a pillar; he dropped to his knees next to her. Looking into her face he felt tears welling in his eyes, she still looked withered. Tenderly he brushed a wild strand of her red hair away from her face. Though she had aged she looked at peace, almost too serene to just be sleeping.
Removing his black leather and steel gauntlets he gently touched two fingers to the large artery in her neck. Encouragingly, she was warm to the touch and when Brion felt the life-beat of her blood, he sighed in relief. The ebon knight collapsed against the pillar and cradled the most precious thing in the world to him, his scarlet maiden, against his chest and allowed the encroaching blackness to overcome him.
