Chapter Text
The witch laughed as she dodged Molly’s swords, even though one of her eyes was clouded over with inky blackness and blood trickled from her eye to her cheek. He screamed in Infernal at her, and swung out with a glowing scimitar, but her form collapsed in a flash of purple energy, and the sword hissed through where her midsection would’ve been.
Molly swore and whirled, seeing the battlefield before him. Nott, crouched behind a nearby pillar with Caleb, the two of them ducking as arrows and spells flashed past them, taking whatever opportunity they could to fire back. Jester- no, her duplicate- dancing around and leading a train of undead away from the real Jester, whose divine energy was causing even more to crumble in a dazzling array of light as. A giant lollipop swung wildly around her, keeping the zombies from getting too close to Nott and Caleb. Fjord and Beau, taking on the huge armored undead fiend, yelled commands at each other and moved fluidly in combat harmony. He panted, not seeing there the witch had gone, eyes whirling in their sockets, until-
An identical flash appeared behind Caleb and Nott. As time seemed to slow down, Molly saw Caleb stiffen, and kick wildly at Nott, sending her skidding toward Molly. His blue eyes met Molly’s, and started to yell something at Nott. The witch laid a slender hand on his shoulder and whispered- gently, seductively, smiling- in his ear.
The purple light flashed again, and she was gone.
Caleb shook slightly where he stood, a dazed look on his face. Nott lay sprawled on the ground, meters away from where she stood with Caleb, confused. Her spindly green limbs, wrapped in their dirty bandages, scrambled to help her get up. In the background, Fjord and Beau grunted as falchion and fist landed on the fiend, but it still stood.
A delighted cheer echoed off the stone walls. “Look at how powerful I am you guys!” Jester and her duplicate hopped excitedly around the simple zombies, which seemed to have dropped to the floor. “I totally did all of this by myself-“
As she spoke, Molly’s body moved on its own when he saw Caleb’s fingers twitch and begin to darken. He threw himself on top of Nott, already on the ground, as the room suddenly filled with blistering heat- but not unbearable, Molly noted, as he realized that he was not on fire. They were not the target. He let himself look up, feeling Nott squirming beneath him, heart pounding in his chest. Caleb stood stoically which an unearthly sort of ease, his arm outstretched toward Jester. Jester was no longer dancing, and her duplicated flickered and disappeared as she crumpled to the ground, covered in ash.
Molly screamed Fjord’s name. The half-orc stopped the fiend’s greatsword with his falchion, ocean mist spraying from it like waves crashing on rocks. He pressed against it, turning. Molly saw the veins on his neck bulging from the strain, and blood trickled down one of his shoulders.
“Have Beau lure that away! We’ve got a bigger problem!” Molly yelled.
“I highly doubt that!” Fjord answered, teeth gritted. “This one here’s pretty huge already-“ He was interrupted by a fiery explosion landing just short of him, although the power of the blast was enough to knock him, Beau, and the undead fiend to the ground. The flames flickered away, revealing the three figure to be relatively unharmed by the fireball.
“What the fuck, Caleb?” Beau yelled, annoyed. As she scrambled to her feet, her eyes widened at the sight of Caleb’s charred hand still pointing at her, billowing black smoke.
“Beau!” Fjord grunted, and Beau yelped in agreement. She bound closer to the undead fiend, fists raised to her face in a boxer’s pose.
Nodding to Fjord, she kicked the fiend in the groin, causing in to roar in defiance. “Come on asshole! Wanna dance?” The fiend clambered to its feet as Beau gave it a couple of light taps, leading it away from the rest of the group. “Come on, you dumb fuck!”
Sparks beginning to flutter up from Caleb’s hand as it was still pointed at Fjord, and Molly instinctively thrust out one of his swords to point at him. He tasted blood in his mouth as the Infernal ripped across his tongue. “Look this way, you Zimmnean bastard!”
Caleb’s head whipped toward the noise, but he stumbled to one knee, sputtering. His eyes turned toward Molly. What had once been a bright, clear blue were now bright burning embers, shining red through his eyelids. Ash streaked his thin face, stark lines of red blood snaking down from each tear duct.
Molly coughed, spitting blood, and then felt a piercing pain in his thigh. He looked down to see Nott clutching the handle of the dagger, snarling up at him desperately. “Stop it!” she screeched, pulling the knife out and preparing to stab again. “You’re hurting him!”
Molly swiftly brought his knee up, and Nott yelped as it connected with her chin. As she stumbled back, Molly lunged and scooped her up, feeling tongues of flame caress the back of his neck as another fireball flew high. Nott kicked and struggled in his grasp, and he held on tight as he ran with her behind another pillar, away from the wizard. Guarded by the stone, he held Nott close to his chest.
“That’s not him, Nott.” He squeezed her more tightly and pressed his lips against her ear. She stopped struggling a little. “That’s not him, and you need to stay here. You know what he can do.” Nott began to reply, but he let go, kissing her quickly on the head, and darted back into the fray. He had to shield his face with his hands as Fjord intercepted a fireball with his blade, erupting into heavy steam that stung in his wounds.
“Caleb!” Fjord roared, his voice going deep. There was something about his voice that changed slightly. The half-orc’s anger flared, but remained somehow contained and calm as Caleb failed to respond. There was grave determination in his eyes, and his knuckled shown white through his dark skin as he clutched the barnacled handle of the falchion. There was conflict in him, Molly noted- a force of regret being overpowered by a looming responsibility.
Molly flanked the wizard and tapped the side of his head with the flat side of a scimitar, drawing his attention. The head turned with eyes focused on him, still glowing white-hot, but his face was devoid of all emotion. Those hands- glowing red ember beginning to crack and glow through the charred skin- raised toward him now, but Molly let his swords dance around them, batting them away, only leaving small cuts. Caleb pulled back, calculating.
“Go help Jester!” Molly yelled. The glow from Caleb’s eyes and hands glittered on his blades as they spun. “She got hit!”
Fjord’s focus flickered, eyes widening, and he turned to sprint toward where Jester lay. Caleb swung out an arm at the opportunity, but it was stopped by a scimitar, slicing at tendons and causing it to fall limply to the side. Blood hissed and bubbled as it dripped off his fingertips. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Fjord cradle Jester’s head as one hand rummaged through hit pockets to search for a potion.
“Caleb,” Molly said carefully, taking a small step back. The wizard stood before him. The ends of his reddish hair slowly began to curl and darken. He made no move to raise his good arm, instead staring blankly with his ember eyes. Molly raised his swords in a defensive stance. “Come on, friend. You’re hurting yourself.” The light did not fade, but the wizard’s chapped lips quivered as if to say something. Molly looked down just in time to see Caleb’s fingers finishing some kind of spell. “Oh, shit-“
The swords suddenly flared white-hot, and Molly dropped them reflexively as the heat seemed to bore through his fingers. There was a moment when Caleb’s hand began to raise again, ash rising from the fingers in flakes- when Molly darted forward and embraced him.
He pinned the wizards arms to his sides tightly with his own, their cheeks pressed together. He could feel the heat through his clothes, and Molly wrapped himself around him tighter, his tail winding around Caleb’s thighs. His sleeve began to dampen as Caleb’s blood seeped into his cloak where the scimitar had cut him.
“Caleb,” Molly whispered in Zimmnean, his lips flickering against his ear, brushing against dirty red hair. “Caleb, this isn’t you. Cut it out.” A great shudder went through Caleb’s body.
“This isn’t what you want to be. We’re waiting for you. Come back.” A shiver of relief went down Molly’s spine as he felt Caleb’s arms wrap around him in turn, his hands pressed against his hip and the small of his back. The grip tightened. Molly sighed. “That’s it Caleb, you’re okay-“
He gasped from a sudden, overwhelming pain in his back. Caleb’s burning hands lay flat upon him, cooking his flesh. He gasped, trying to break free, but the wizard pulled him closer with uncharacteristic strength. Molly cried out. His hands fumbled for his pockets and belt to find a weapon of any kind. He smelled his skin burning, felt his body begin to weaken, heard his voice being ripped from his throat in a scream.
Then Caleb’s body jerked suddenly, and the heat was gone.
Molly pulled his head back just in time to see the glow fade and sky-blue eyes return before they rolled back into Caleb’s head. The wizard, still entangled with Molly, began to fall limp and Molly guided the both of them to their knees.
Molly coughed, “That’s it, relax now.” Caleb’s head fell limply onto Molly’s shoulder, the burning hands dangling limply at his sides. Molly raised an arm to pat his back calmingly, and his hand felt a cool metal crossbow bolt.
Nott stood before them, crossbow raised with a shaking hand, as tears streamed down her little face.
They staying in those positions for a good moment, speechless, until a large thud sounded throughout the crypt.
“Ugh,” they heard Beau groan. “Do I have to do all the work around here?”