Ceridwel rolled up the scroll and rubbed the bridge of his nose with a
tired hand. Solmundi... A Paladin, fallen to the darkness, and calling for
undead to come out of the woodwork like termites. He had always believed
the best in those who walked the Light, but this act of betrayal was simply
unforgivable. And where was Dogran? The closure of the Legion Cabal had
not filled him with relief but rather suspicion. That scheming duergar had
never been up to anything good and he certainly wouldn't start now that he
had been granted the powers of immortality. He remembered Kedaleam's frail
old adept saying something about forming a coalition of the Light, but had
rarely seen the other gods since. Where were Phostan, Kedaleam, Vanisse?
Phostan and Kedaleam he had seen appearing here and there occasionally, but
Vanisse had been suspiciously absent for some time. He could barely
remember seeing her about since her two adepts - his own Archons - had
perished.

He paced before the windows of the Palace, regaling the familiar shining
streets with a worried, absent gaze. The Knights' Castle was too empty in
the face of this growing threat. He had already inducted several squires
but their resolve seemed to fade quickly after entry. In the meanwhile, he
had noticed many Paladins often traipsing around the lands, oblivious or
careless to the evils rising around them. They needed a rallying cry, he
thought. Something. Anything. If only he had his old Knights back. That
had been a golden age...

Ceridwel's reminiscing was cut off abruptly as a crackling, booming sound was
heard from the east. He rushed to the eastern window and stared over at the
Knights' Monument. A plume of black smoke rose from it, curiously tinged
with the smell of burning bacon.

***

The prince of the Shadow Storm stood at the gate, each fist crushing a
wisp's lifeless body as he thrust them into his mouth, chewed and swallowed.
Before him the portal opened at the edge of a cliff that overlooked a
battlefield strewn with corpses. At the center of it, two flickering
beacons appeared on the verge of fading. He licked his lips. Soon it would
all be over. Around him his minions surged forward, scaling down the cliff
face nimbly with three, four, six, eight legs... The vast, echoing sound of
the innumerable claws scuttling filled him with glee. Several more fizzled
through the portal and he swatted at them lazily, catching a wisp here and
there and snacking upon it with unrestrained relish.

Suddenly, a surprisingly large, golden-colored wisp darted through the
portal in a flurry. It looked particularly juicy and delicious.

The demon prince reached for it, his empowered reflexes allowing him to
close his claws around it with ease and snatch it from mid-air. Strangely
enough, it disappeared with an unexpected popping sound. Looking up in
confusion from his empty palm, the demon noticed the glowing golden light
appear down on the battlefield by the beacons and frowned. How had it
gotten there so quickly? Then he put it out of his mind. It would be a
quick snack for his army soon, and there were plenty others to sate him up
here. He patted his bulging belly, feeling the power swirl within it, and
grinned.

***

Surrounded by darkness, Lumubella and Serra hovered side by side,
accompanied by a battered band of pixies. The two of them surveyed the
chaotic battlefield around them and watched the horde of demons advance in
the distance.

"Should we be worried?" Serra ventured uncertainly. "I do not think we
will be able to hold out here much longer. We should retreat."

"This bein' bad, there bein' nowhere left ter be runnin'," Lumubella
muttered, looking dourly at the waves of demons pouring down the cliff
towards them. The pixies within earshot shuddered and shifted. "The
forests ter the south be overrun already. North be the next village. We
can't let them pass us, at least till the little 'uns there've had a chance
ter escape." She reached out and patted Serra's hand comfortingly. "There,
there. We two already bein' dead, what's the risk?"

Serra gripped her tiny wisp-sized healer staff in both hands and braced
herself. "I will follow as you lead."

Lumubella turned to the pixies beside them. "Get yerselves home and get the
others out. We'll slow em down." Relieved of their duties, the pixies made
a mad dash to the north, fluttering desperately amid a plume of glowing
pixie dust.

The two wisp healers sneezed. "Good gracious. I thought I would be done
with allergies by now," Serra sighed. Lumubella suppressed a smirk.

***

Lumubella had been in Acadia for over two decades by the time Serra arrived.
When she had initially learned of the demon cycles, she had not been fazed
by them one little bit. Her long service as a Knight had taught her that
good and evil always oscillate in opposition, and it seemed only natural
that such a duality would exist in other worlds than Serin.

She had struggled mostly with overcoming her initial surprise and annoyance
of being a tiny floating wisp instead of a dwarf, and the sudden loss of
connection to her Goddess. Yet, she had reasoned to herself, Luck - hope -
was what had gotten her through her darkest times during her life in Serin,
and it would continue to do so in Acadia. The invasion of demons had even
brought her comfort in its familiarity amid the strange world. The sky
might be the wrong color, and all of the magic and languages and landscapes
feel just slightly *off*, but the fight between good and evil was something
as familiar to her as the air she breathed. (Or even more so, for the air
here was strangely tingly with too much magic.) And ultimately, someday,
she might see Serra pass through again, if she was patient enough. So she
had begun to hone her spells in her new wisp form, sought out the latest
generation of pixies to offer her support, and settled in for the long wait.