"No!" Veanna screamed and charged through the crowd, sword forgotten as she sprinted to reach her father before it was too late.

In the glimpses through the throng as the seconds crawled by, she saw him slice into his palm as her own had been slashed. Instead of presenting the wound to Ren, he thrust his hand into the beam of light, his back arching in a scream of pain that was lost to battle amid many others.

Veanna felt fleeting touches on her shoulders, as though others were trying to stop her advance. Perhaps they were her ancestors, or her fathers' soldiers, or even the Order, but none of them would catch her. She couldn't lose her father, not like this, not when she was finally able to go home again. She couldn't face returning to her mother alone.

The beam of moonlight pulsed, growing dimmer, and her father paled along with it. By the time she burst through a ring of guards to the dais, he looked older and frailer than she could ever have feared to see him. The spell seemed to be absorbing his very body, his hands turning almost skeletal and the moonlight casting deep shadows across his sinking cheeks.

As she reached his side, he shuddered within his armour - suddenly large on his thinning frame - and dropped to his knees, still raising his hand into the light. Veanna could hear Ren's roars of anger, yet she didn't care about anything but her father.

"No, you can't do this, let me... let me help!" She tried to tug him away but, weak as he appeared, he would not be moved. Desperately, she snatched her father's sword from his waning grip and held it to her bandaged palm, ready to share her blood with his.

But he put a hand over hers, shaking his head stiffly. "I can't let you... take that risk," he rasped, his voice unlike the one she had known all her life. "Not after... worrying so much... Just want... to protect you."

"Please," she sobbed, wanting to scream the word to anyone who would listen. All this time, she had been fighting to make her home safe to go back to, never thinking she might not have a full family to return with.

It was unfair that the last months with her parents had been robbed from her, and now she may lose years with her father. There was so much she needed to learn, so much help she needed him to give, and every wonderful part of him was fading before her eyes.

"Father, p-please," Veanna cried. "I'm sorry, just m-make it stop." She tugged at his arm again, seeing the blood that had dried to her wrists smearing on his armour. Her blood had raised Ren to life, but could not preserve her father. He lifted his hand and wiped away tears she hadn't felt flooding her cheeks.

"It's going to be... alright... I'm going to... make everything... alright." The light projecting to the moon was fading, and so was the brightness in his eyes. "I'm sorry... I'll keep you safe... this time."

Veanna curled into his embrace, praying that he didn't leave her. She couldn't let her father die.

***

They couldn't let Veanna die. As they advanced through the battle, the white light of the spell in the centre of the room flickered - the King must have reached his goal. Calu heard the man cry out in pain, a scream ringing through the chamber that surely came from Veanna, and an inhuman howl of rage echo from Ren's half-composed lips. They were the three members of House Risalus closest to life, and at least one of them would be in the grave before the night was over.

Ren whirled towards his coffin, his hands tracing a new rune in the air. They couldn't allow it to be unleashed, not if they wanted to end the ritual and keep their friend safe.

As if Calu's thoughts had materialised, a dagger sailed through the air and sank into the back of Ren's head.

"Hey, ugly!" Neyerith called, readying his second dagger despite the apprehension in his expression.

The rune faded and the mage pulled the blade from his skull as though it were nothing more inconvenient than an insect bite, the wound glowing blue and fading within seconds. He turned away from Veanna and her father, his face contorting in a snarl. Neyerith threw his second dagger but Ren was ready, and the weapon exploded in a flash of red light before it could inflict any damage. He thrust out a hand in return and sent a wall of air rippling towards them.

Tia twirled to one side and Calu dropped to the ground, but Neyerith's injury made his movements slow and stiff. The air hit him square in the chest, sending him flying backwards along with a dozen others caught in the blast.

Calu shouted in alarm and raised his hand, but no solution or spell came, and he was left grasping at thin air as Neyerith disappeared into the shadows of the battle.

Calu winced and looked away - for now, he would just have to hope that the fall hadn't been bad enough to make Neyerith's injuries life-threatening. Ren was already turning back to the nexus of the resurrection spell, ignoring the foes he had knocked aside.

Yet even as his hands glowed Tia rose, her sword blazing with reflected moonlight. Calu scrambled to his feet too, yet could do nothing but watch helplessly as she advanced towards their foe.

Tia flicked her wrist once before springing into action, her sword swinging straight for Ren's neck without a sound from her lips or feet. He moved before she could hit him, his arm coming up to block her strike with a flash of white light that sent her spinning away, but she succeeded in gaining his attention.

His malformed face contorted with what may have been irritation, and he struck out as she returned for another attack, a blast of flames following the movement of his hand. She rolled under it, slicing into his forearm before ducking away again.

A hand grabbed the back of Calu's clothes and he jerked back, choking and stumbling. His foot caught a crack and he almost fell, the sudden drop yanking him free. He spun to see a Master calling fire to her hand, teeth bared.

"You traitorous wretch," she hissed, curling her fingers to manipulate the flame.

Before she could denounce him further or punish his desertion, Calu brought his arms up in an arc mimicking Ren's action as he summoned his own blast of wind. It was nowhere near as powerful, but his mind remained blissfully present and vision-free as she was forced back, the fire fading. Another Order member clashing with a soldier stepped between them, and Calu took the opportunity to duck around the chaos to find Tia again.

Ren had changed attacks, snapping his fingers and summoning slivers of ice that dropped from the air above the Outlander. She swerved around them like they were nothing but leaves, spinning to kick his knee and flicking her blade to catch his cheek. The wound she had inflicted on his arm was closing with the blue light of healing magic, and this new injury glowed even as she jumped backwards. She had already lasted longer than anyone else who had opposed him, focusing on keeping his attention and staying on her feet rather than attempting to take him out with a single strike.

"I am the Almighty; you cannot stand against me," Ren snarled, his voice quiet yet somehow earthshaking. "Lie down and accept your death."

Tia twirled her sword, her grim expression unwavering. "You are nothing, but a ghost."

"I am of flesh and blood."

"Then you will just be easier to hit." Without a flicker in her face or stance, she pounced with renewed ferocity.

Ren growled, his annoyance turning to frustration and fury as Tia out-manoeuvred his every attack, gaining minor injuries when other opponents could have been felled time and time again. Strike after strike of her blade cut into the mage, but it healed over every time as she narrowly missed other assaults.

Yet the blue light flickered, each injury healing a fraction slower than the one before. As a slash on Ren's forearm crawled closed, Calu watched the bone fuse and the flesh knit together, clean and whole again. But then he understood - the skin, and likely the bone beneath it, had borne a rune before the injury. Tia was chipping away at his magic, one pre-carved rune at a time. Calu just didn't know if she could win this war of attrition.

He watched the battle in sickened wonder. It was impressive, in a terrifying way, that Ren could fire off so many spells in quick succession. It spoke both to his magical prowess and mental discipline - if he experienced visions during the casting of any of his spells, he didn't show even a shadow of distraction. And then there was the sheer power of the runes, something that the Order had long since lost knowledge of.

Ren shot what looked like acid towards Tia's face, which she dodged. He followed it up with a blast of red energy that crackled out like lightning and succeeded in catching her at last. The bolt slammed into her shoulder, sending her spinning as she tumbled to the ground. A second volley made her scream in agony, writhing on the floor until she fell abruptly silent.

Ren turned away from her, the blue glow of healing highlighting many injuries. The light guttered, almost in time with the moonlight gradually faltering behind him, and each wound healed slower than the last, but it still wasn't enough to stop him.

He clapped his hands together, a scarlet glow growing and silhouetting his skeletal fingers. "Enough of this," he snarled, throwing his arms open. The air rippled, wider than the wave that had tossed Neyerith out of the battle.

Calu threw up his arm, creating a white bubble in front of himself and Tia. Spreading the shield over two people started an ache in the pit of his stomach, and his body shuddered under the strain of the magic. Even with his protection, her body rolled across the ground and he was pushed back a few steps. He barely registered the movement as blackness swallowed his vision.

Not now, he thought frantically, but was unable to stop the illusion of the future from appearing before his eyes. It passed by quickly, but was no less disturbing for its brevity. He saw flames, heard crashes and screams, then nothing.

Calu's eyesight returned to him, and he staggered despite the blast of air having passed by. He fought against the urge to retch, forcing himself to straighten and face Ren.

The mage was already stepping away. Everyone around Calu had fallen, friends and enemies alike knocked to the ground or thrown aside. He swallowed and raised his hand again. If he was the only one left, he had to do something or die trying.

Calu summoned the only spell that flashed into his mind and thrust his palm out flat. He gritted his teeth as another vision rolled in - glimpses of torn-up ground and a breastplate dripping with blood. He stood firm despite the scene that flashed before his eyes, and when his gaze cleared he saw the wall of ice he conjured across the dais, blocking Ren from his descendants.

The undead mage turned his head slowly, the fading moonlight casting angular shadows across his half-formed face. Instead of the burning fury he had displayed while fighting Tia, his expression was now stony and focused. With sinister solemnity he lifted one hand, his palm glowing with green energy. Locking eyes with Calu, he drew his fingers into a fist.

The ground under Calu's feet trembled, and without the time to drop his current spell to conjure a shield, he was thrown to one side as a pillar of earth erupted from the floor. Calu crumpled, his ankles feeling like they had been shaken to pieces, his stomach churning, and his head swimming. He gazed blurrily at Ren, pushing himself up shakily on his elbow even as his concentration slipped and the ice disappeared, as the beam of moonlight vanished as well.

Distantly, he heard an anguished scream, but his attention was focused on the hand Ren still trained on him as it filled with crimson destruction magic.

This can't be right, he thought dimly, paralysed by exhaustion and terror, I've just seen my future; I can't die now without my visions coming to pass.

But Ren didn't care about his dismay, his gaze hard and his hand unwavering as a great rumble shook the cavern.

Then there was a flash of something else; torchlight reflecting on a blade, blood glinting against metal. As the red glow faded, Calu's mind comprehended the sword that had plunged through the undead mage's chest.

The blade withdrew and Ren staggered, revealing Veanna standing behind him, flanked by gold-embossed soldiers. Tears trickled down her cheeks, but there was fire in her eyes.

He gave a choking laugh, raising his hand as though to ignite the destruction spell he had intended to unleash on Calu. Calu moved through sheer force of will onto his knees. He had to get up and help, before Ren's wounds healed and agony consumed another of his friends.

But no magic came, and the only glow to appear was a band of blue light that faded through the walls of the chamber, encircling the room and rushing towards the centre. It passed through people without helping or hindering them, but when it touched one of the skeletons they abandoned their fight and turned towards the exits, moving trance-like back towards their coffins.

The resurrection spell was ending, and no attacks came because with it Ren was losing his magic - his life.

"Chaskae v-vran-" Ren choked, falling to one knee as the flesh melted from his face.

Veanna shook her head, her hands shaking but her grip unfailing on the sword hilt, where emeralds glinted in the approaching glow. "You may share my name, but I am not your family."

Her face turned ethereal as the blue light passed over her and Ren, her ancestor now nothing more than a skeleton. The receding spell reached the centre of the cavern, shrank to a ball of light and disappeared, leaving torches the only illumination as Ren's bones turned to dust. The magic that had anchored his soul to the world was spent, and without it the last vestiges of his being were consumed by the fading blood magic, leaving nothing but ash on the ground.

Shouts of alarm spread through the remaining Order, and a series of white flashes burst through the cavern, the red-cloaked figures vanishing in their wake. The cavern fell abruptly quiet as the soldiers of Levea stared around in disbelief, Veanna standing above it all.