Chapter Fifteen – Clash of Light and Shadow
"When blood meets starfire, only truth can remain."
The clearing pulsed with chaotic energy, the aftershock of spells still crackling in the branches. Veylen's spellwork had momentarily staggered the Nephilim and startled the Fae, but the confrontation was far from over.
Zhada stood at his side, fists blazing with spirit-bound fire, a wild grin curving her lips. "Tell me we're done talking now."
Veylen didn't answer. His eyes were locked on the Nephilim, who rose from the brush with his wings flared and glowing sword drawn. The blade hummed—no, sang—with celestial resonance. Not forged metal, but a weapon of divine breath and radiant order.
Beside him, the Fae's fingers traced circles in the air, weaving strands of glowing azure thread into shifting sigils. Unlike the Nephilim's direct presence, hers was ethereal, her magic an extension of nature's memory—winds that remembered lullabies, branches that whispered secrets in forgotten tongues.
Zhada's eyes narrowed. "Great. Light magic and fae sigilcraft. What's next, a celestial choir?"
"You're not far off," Veylen muttered, lifting one hand as a barrier of blood wove itself between them and the advancing duo.
The Nephilim spoke first, voice low but laced with fury. "You strike without warning, and now you run? You shelter the dark and spit on balance."
"I shelter what's mine," Veylen said. "You pointed a weapon at her. I don't care if you shine like heaven—do it again, and I'll rip the marrow from your bones."
The Nephilim surged forward, sword raised. "Then we're past talking."
Their blades met—blood magic lashing against light. Veylen's arm pulsed with strain, crimson energy wrapping around the Nephilim's blade in a deathly coil. The divine sword pulsed and repelled it, burning through the sigils like acid.
Too pure, Veylen realized. I'll have to corrupt it to weaken it.
Meanwhile, Zhada spun into motion, intercepting a bolt of faelight hurled by the Fae woman. It struck her warded bracer and ricocheted into a dead tree, splitting it in half.
Zhada grinned. "Missed me."
The Fae didn't answer—she just vanished in a flicker of air and reappeared behind Zhada, claws of wind slicing toward her back. Zhada flipped, fire erupting from her palms mid-spin and blasting outward, forcing the Fae to shimmer back out of reach.
They danced! Zhada's fighting style wild and reactive, fueled by instinct and aggression. Her flames responded to her emotions, snapping like wolves on a leash, always one breath away from chaos.
The Nephilim advanced again, wings unfurling as he channeled his power. Light pulsed from his chest like a heartbeat, a divine rhythm that disrupted the natural order of the space around him. Grass wilted. Shadows bent away.
Veylen felt the pressure. He couldn't unleash his full force without drawing attention… but if he held back any longer—
The Nephilim struck again, faster now. Veylen dodged, catching the blade with a whip of congealed blood. The weapon hummed against the binding, then shattered it with a single flare of holy force. The recoil sent Veylen sliding back, boots scraping earth.
The Fae leapt between them, sigils dancing across her arms, spinning threads that tried to cage him in a lattice of living light.
Zhada shouted from across the glade, "We can't keep this up forever!"
Veylen growled. "I'm aware."
He clenched his fist, drawing blood from his own palm. The drops rose like mercury, fusing mid-air into a serpentine shape. With a sharp command in the old tongue, it launched itself toward the Fae's spellwork, tearing through it like claws through silk.
He turned to Zhada. "We're done here."
"Finally," she said, flames coiling around her like a second skin.
Together, they unleashed a final wave—Veylen's blood surge forming a wall of twisting crimson to cover their retreat, while Zhada's flame ignited the surrounding trees in a controlled blaze that diverted the Nephilim's path.
They ran—vanishing into the forest, senses blazing, hearts pounding.
Behind them, the Nephilim and the Fae stood in the smoke, watching.
"She's there," the Fae whispered. "And she's already singing."
The Nephilim's grip on his sword tightened.
Back To Thae in the basement-
The basement air grew thick. That humming red sigil pulsed against the walls like a second heartbeat, and the new woman's smile glinted in its light.
Thae didn't flinch. "That's not a security clearance badge."
The woman stepped forward, still grinning. "Neither is yours, sweetheart. But we both made it this far. What a miracle."
Thae angled her stance, fingers twitching slightly—readying. "You're Red Choir."
"Guilty." She drew the word out like a song. "But don't let the name fool you. We do more than sing."
The air snapped with tension. Thae activated a sigil in her palm with a whisper. It shimmered like glass over fire. "Let me guess. You're here to hum that thing awake?" She nodded toward the sigil tower. "Or maybe drain someone dry while you moan a hymn."
"Oh, darling." The woman's voice slipped lower, honeyed and venomous. "If I wanted your blood, I wouldn't be talking."
Then she moved.
Fast—too fast. A blur of crimson shadow, aimed to slice close. But Thae was faster. She pivoted low, sliding across the dusty floor and releasing a sigil trap beneath her like a ribbon unwinding.
The woman's foot caught the glyph. It exploded in a flare of violet light and forced her backward, shrieking as the energy burned across her side.
"Warding glyphs," Thae said coolly, rising again. "Etched into the floorboards when I walked in."
The Choir agent's face twisted—not in pain, but in pleasure. "Smart little thing."
She clapped her hands once—sharp—and the red glow of the sigil tower surged in response.
Thae's eyes narrowed. She's tied to it.
The air vibrated. A low hum started—not from the woman's mouth, but from her chest, rising like a cello's drone. The sigil tower pulsed with the same rhythm.
Resonant casting. A foundational form of Choir magic, tuned through the body. The blood itself became an amplifier.
Thae stepped back, forming twin sigils at her sides. One shimmered with spectral ice, the other with thorned heat. "Let's see how well you sing with a throat full of ash."
She launched both spells—one arcing high, one curling low. The Choir agent danced between them like a flame in the wind, but not without effort. Her cloak caught fire. Her arm numbed where the ice hit.
But she laughed. "Oh, you are fun."
Then came the voice. Not hers.
A low hum threaded beneath her own—suddenly, violently. A harmonic overtone that didn't belong in the room. The woman's eyes went wide. Her limbs trembled, then relaxed.
A new voice spoke from her mouth. Smooth. Controlled.
"You've caught one of mine, Veylen. And this must be the one I'm going to take…" she said sizing Thae up, as she meandered around.
Thae froze.
The Choir woman's mouth continued to move, though her eyes flickered with strain. "Perhaps she'll die in the web of mine."
Thae's heart beat faster. Then—snap—the body reverted, and Sylith was gone..
The Choir agent surged forward, eyes glowing blood-red now, mouth wide in a silent scream.
Thae raised her hand, and put the other downward. "Not today."
The floor split with a complex net of luminous lines, her strongest arcane geometry yet. It was a reactive pattern—not just a trap, but an echo chamber. She stepped forward deliberately, leading the agent into its center.
The agent leapt.
Thae whispered: "Bind."
The sigils flared, caught the Red Choir woman mid-air, and folded her into an invisible vice. She twisted, screamed, hissed—but the geometry held. Her limbs spasmed. Her voice cracked.
Thae exhaled. Sweating. Focused.
She stepped forward, crouched, and leaned in.
"Tell me everything," she murmured. "Who's here? What's your endgame? And how many of you are down here with me?"
The woman grinned through bloodied teeth. "Enough."
Her pulse beat against the bindings. The tower's glow began to rise again.
Thae's eyes flicked up. It's going to detonate.
She stood swiftly. A choice had to be made—interrogate or disarm.
She chose both.
With one hand, she pressed a sigil into the Choir agent's temple—marking her with a tracker. With the other, she turned toward the tower and summoned a suppression seal, threading it over the volatile construct.
"Let's see what this thing is really hiding."