Myths

Author notes

Arena page 10

ConnorLachmanec

on Nov. 12, 2020

Helga impales the satyr on her spear and hurls it away from her just as the telkhine sprays the ground in front of him with liquid fire. A blinding explosion sends Kat flying backwards and throws up a fresh cloud of dust and black smoke. The half-dryad leaps into the fray, whacking Bad Dog hard on the skull with her staff.
The telkhine lumbers toward Kat where they lie groaning on their back in a pool of molten fluid, their pyrallis silk garments untouched by the flame. A great webbed paw reaches toward them, cruel claws glinting in the firelight.
“Lyssa!” Kat shoots bolt upright and burns the word into the telkhine’s intoxicated brain like a red-hot brand, searing away his last shred of cognizance. The world goes black around him and he stumbles, wide insensate eyes wreathed in flame, toward the half-nymph who stands triumphantly over Bad Dog, poised to deliver a finishing blow.