Finish the fight!

They crashed into the earth with a sound like a landslide erasing a mountainside. Pulverized stone erupted into the air. A great cloud of dust and rock filled the center of the chamber. As it dissipated, Teysa climbed to her feet, coughing and hacking. She spat a gobbet of bloody phlegm and staggered forward a step or two.

There, lying in the middle of a crater that had not been there a moment ago, was the drow. His body had been crushed and pulverized into the floor. Writhing shadows leaked from the splits in his flesh. They wriggled like snakes and curled away into the dark corners of the cave. Part of his skull had caved in, but his eyeless gaze fell on Teysa and she recoiled from the hatred that poured off him.

Her mace still lay where it had fallen, a few feet away. She limped towards it and picked it up. With every step, her body felt heavier. Her golden wings were fading now, feathers falling like rain and disappearing a few inches above the ground. When she coughed, she felt things moving inside her that shouldn't be. The power that had risen up inside her was fading away, draining like water from a leaky vessel. The golden glow pouring off of her sputtered and died. As the last dregs of radiance dimmed, she could feel something leaving her soul, some presence that she had not noticed until it was no longer there. She realized she had been wrong before. Agamor had never truly abandoned her... until now. Now He was well and truly gone. What she had thought was a resurgence in her faith had just been the last flare of a guttering fire.

She was too tired for despair. All that mattered was finishing the fight.

It took both hands to lift her mace, but she managed it. Faint light still glimmered in its head. It was Agamor's last gift to her, she knew that somehow; the knowledge welled up from her subconscious. He had left her just enough to do her duty. She had always done her duty, ever since she was a child; leaving her home for the Abbey, the Abbey for the road, the road for the warren. Always duty. Always service. Always the greater good.

What has it won you? Look at yourself now, paladin. The voice sounded very much like the cackling of the shadow-creature. She **** it down and took a step towards him. Her mace dragged along the ground. Step, drag. Step, drag.

She stood over his limp body. She had harbored a hope that the fall would kill him, but clearly her luck did not extend that far. He didn't seem to be able to move, but he stared up at her so hatefully she almost flinched back. She lifted her mace, held it over him, and paused. His body was convulsing and he was letting out a strained, gurgling wheeze.

Laughter. He was laughing.

"Whats... funny?" she managed. Just talking hurt. She hadn't expected him to answer, but he did.

"I... cannot... die..." the drow managed. "You... can. Where's... your... light... now?"

She let her mace answer for her. It descended in slow motion, trailing a faint golden glow behind it. As it hit, the spark inside seemed to expand. It became a glowing golden orb centered around the drow's skull. It shrank slowly, first to the size of a melon, then an apple, then a pinprick. The light vanished, then the drow's head exploded.

A freezing wind blew past Teysa, raising goosebumps on her flesh. She could feel something traveling with it, something cold and malign that touched her soul only briefly. She cried out and dropped to her knees as it wailed into the air. Her tears froze on her cheeks. It tapered away to nothing, a faint breeze and a whispered sigh, and then vanished. Her heart was racing and her whole body ached. Numbly, she raised her mace. The haft was splintered and the head vanished entirely. But she was alive.

The effect on the soldiers was far more dramatic. She could hear panicked cries all around her. Drow shook their heads groggily, like sleepers waking from a nightmare. They moaned and stumbled into retreat. The driders seized the opportunity and pushed forward, and the retreat became a full-fledged rout. The sound of steel on stone rang out across the cave as the invaders threw down their weapons en masse and turned to flee. A few officers in the back tried to marshal them, but now panic was doing its insidious work and there was no stopping the flow.

"Teysa!"

Aliara's voice cut through the noise. Teysa turned. Her partner was running across the cave towards her, arms out. Every inch of the half-elf's face was etched with relief. "Oh, Tey, I was so-" she began.

Something struck Teysa hard in the chest. At first she felt no pain, only a sense of impact. She grunted and took a half-step backward. She looked down in disbelief. Somehow, a foot and a half of wood had sprouted from between her breasts. She could see the individual feathers fletching the end.

An arrow. How absurd. Her mind struggled to rationalize this new discovery.

Another impact. Another arrow appeared, this one in her gut. She stared at it in perplexity. There was still no pain, only confusion. She looked up and across the room.

There, still standing on the rocky ledge, was the man who had been riding the lizard. He held his longbow in one hand in a relaxed, casual stance. As best as she could tell, he was staring at her. His helm included a full-face mask, but there was a narrow visor for his eyes. Shadowy contrails of smoke curled out of its corners. He saw her looking at him, gave her a curt nod, and turned away. He handed his bow to his massive bodyguard, then climbed up onto his lizard and whipped the reins.

Teysa opened her mouth to speak and blood welled up inside her throat. It poured out in a waterfall over her lips. She wanted to point out the man in the armor, the man who was no longer a man at all, but her arm was too heavy to lift. The whole room spun around her. Her vision began to tunnel.

The last thing she saw before collapsing was Aliara rushing forward to take her in her arms.