"Astarion!" His name is torn from my lips as I watch his body contort to the will of the symbols at his knees.
"Oh." Cazador laughs, "I do long to see the look on your face when your lover is consumed." He levels his gaze in my direction, "but I doubt you will live to witness it."
Cazador raises the staff and brings it down hard against the marble floor once more, this time a black plume of smoke billows up between each point of the star. As it fades, a werewolf stands tall with the familiar shimmering ring of red runes around their necks.
"Gods below." Karlach groans from beside me as she looks to the seven ravenous werewolves, thick drool dripping from their teeth.
In addition to whatever control Cazador holds over the creatures he has also stripped them of all their humanity as evident from the wild look in their eyes as they size us up almost chomping at the magical bit to be released. They won't hesitate to tear us to shreds and for a moment I am thankful to absolve myself of the guilt I feel whenever we cut one down. I must focus on getting to him and freeing him somehow.
Karlach leaps forward, placing herself between us and the werewolves. She widens her stance and lets out a yell that echoes through the chambers. The infernal engine in her chest flares to light, sparks and flames emanating from her body as she grips her greataxe tightly readying a strike.
Beside me Gale begins to gesture with this hands, working The Weave between his fingers as his very being distorts and in an instant three identical copies of himself stand surrounding him. The true Gale looks to me and winks, the others follow his movements only a second behind.
Looking around the room I take in the werewolves again, inhaling deeply while I channel the very essence of nature into my body, hardening my resolve and turning my skin to something tough akin to tree bark.
"Effligo." Cazador says, strike in Infernal.
One by one the magical collars subduing the werewolves fade and they begin to stretch and snarl.
I suck in a breath and let my hands fall to my sides, palms down with my fingers splayed. I close my eyes and imagine thick vines and thorns cracking through the marble under my feet.
"Right." Karlach says, "Who wants to go first?"
I can hear the playfulness in her voice as I open my eyes to see the three of us surrounded by my conjured brambles. Karlach's thick boots make quick work of the thorns beneath her, giving her more freedom while the werewolves stare at the growth, confusion in their eyes.
"Ecce dominus." Cazador recites, his staff begins to glow again.
I recognize the words, Behold, my Lord. He's beginning the rites.
A werewolf to our left and right break into the undergrowth, one making it's way towards Karlach and another with it's eyes trained directly on me.
"He's starting the Black Mass." I call out to Gale.
"As soon as he speaks the last word, the spawn will be consumed." Gale says, looking at me, his brows creased. He sets his sights on Cazador, pulling a fireball from The Weave and sending it flying in Cazador's direction.
It's just a glancing blow, but the way Cazador reacts makes it seem like he's tethered to the spot as he's concentrating on the rites.
Karlach arcs her greataxe, swiping at the advancing werewolf as it drops to all fours and gains speed across the thick terrain. She thrusts the axe forward, catching the werewolf in the shoulder with the spiked tip, pushing it back as it snaps at the air, a groan seeping from it's lips.
I look to Gale beside me as he's readying another spell, similar to a sleep spell he directs his magic outward towards the werewolves, pulling it taut similar to a rope and I watch as 5 of the werewolves visibly falter, their movements slow and leaden as they lumber towards us.
There's a whine to my right as one of the werewolves get closer, blood dripping from wounds as it's hind legs power through the thick thorns, I go to move, the same thorns splitting and tangling around my calf a large thorn sliding through the leather of my leggings and holding me there.
My concentration holds through the pain as I pull a small blue flame from my thoughts and send it out towards the werewolf, it sparks against it's shoulder as the werewolf readies a strike.
I feel the full force of it's paw crashing against my upper arm as I brace myself against the hit, three claws slice through my beautiful dark blue leather armguards and straight into my flesh. The searing pain causes me to suck in a deep breath, my heart almost stopping for a moment and the thorns at our feet cracking and crumbling against the marble.
Just then a firebolt flies overhead and buries into the werewolf's chest, the magic almost slips deep into the werewolf's skin as it cries out in pain.
Karlach lifts her greataxe, crashing it down on the staggered werewolf she's fighting, pinning it to the ground. She then turns to me, dashing forward and swinging her greataxe again, catching the werewolf beside me with an undercut.
"You alright, little rabbit?" Karlach asks with a glance in my direction before turning and focusing on another advancing werewolf.
I nod, swallowing my fear as I glance down at the blood on my shoulder.
"Has animas—" Cazador continues to chant, his voice seems to almost be straining against the strength of the spell.
Looking around I take into account the five other werewolves, now advancing towards us free of the thorns and then back to Cazador. I struggle to remember how Astarion explained how to kill a vampire, my thoughts keep returning to the image of him holding Petras in front of the window, the small amount of sunlight filtering through cracking and burning his skin as he slowly began to turn to ash.
My eyes snap to Astarion, pain settling in my chest.
I take every feeling I have for him, burning within me and close my eyes, visualizing it turning into the brightest light within me. Every ounce of pain I feel bleached by the crinkle in his eyes when he's being playful or the way his mouth turns down when he's trying to hide his true emotions, his expressive features and the way he calls me, my love.
I grab at my chest, feeling it to be tangible and the light behind my lids glows red. I can barely open my eyes as bright light in my hand threatens to blind me. I can't even see Cazador at this moment, but I hear his voice again.
"Offero—" He groans, his voice wavering.
I send the light forward and it falls a few feet short of where he stands.
Cazador screams and his body begins to burn, the same cracks forming in his flesh that I remember from Petras' as the conjured orb of sunlight paints his body in a stark contrast to the temple around us.
"—in sacrificio" Cazador says, his knuckles white as he grips the staff.
"Gods above." Gale says under his breath as he stares at the tiny sun I have just conjured.
Two more werewolves struggle free of Gale's slow and rush towards us, one reaching and rending the wizard's magical clone, causing it to disappear in a glint of blue light. He directs The Weave again, summoning an ethereal greataxe to his side and directs to towards the werewolf, cutting just below it's ribs and sending the creature to the ground.
I feel my magic wavering as I call to it again, my body already wrung out. I summon a flaming blade and grip the hilt tightly, turning towards the werewolf approaching me.
The sight of the weapon causes the werewolf to pause, the fire reflecting in it's eyes as it tilts it's head towards me. I lunge forward, arcing the blade and catching it's forearms as it goes to block itself. The werewolf cries out in pain, dropping to all fours and snarling at me, snapping at the blade without understanding.
Karlach charges forward, swiping her greataxe and catching another werewolf as it bounds towards her, sinking her greataxe into it's chest, the werewolf reacts, reaching out and dragging it's claws against her chest.
"Fuck!" Karlach screams, and slams her greataxe deeper into the werewolf.
"Nunc volo po-potestatem" Cazador coughs out, I struggle to translate the words, Now I will ask. I think, No, Now I will recieve. The call of the pact means it's nearing it's closure and we're inching towards the moments when Astarion will be consumed and Cazador will become the Vampire Ascendant.
I glance to Cazador then at the werewolf beside me, striking again, slamming my blade into it's shoulder, the flames licking at it's fur and running along it's neck up towards it's head. I grit my teeth and pull the blade out, looking behind me to see Gale and Karlach fighting the final two werewolves.
Struggling with my injured calf I do my best to dash towards Cazador, my fiery blade in hand. He looks at me, a nervous expression creeping across his face, as he stammers out the next couple words to the spell.
"Quam poll-pollicitus." He says through gritted teeth.
I wrap my hand around the staff and searing pain shoots through my forearm causing me to stumble backwards. I watch as he takes another breath and I look to my blazing scimitar and send it into his chest, stealing all the air from his lungs. His eyes go wide and they roll back in his skull, I watch as his body begins to fall, but instead he's swallowed in a familiar cloud of crimson smoke.
One by one, the beams tethering the spawn around the septagram disappears and they slump forward.
I turn to see Karlach and Gale standing beside the fallen werewolves, the ground around us littered with the fallen creatures. Cazador is nowhere to be found.
I hear a familiar groan and look to Astarion, tugging at the red magical bindings at his wrist.
"Astarion." I breathe, limping quickly towards him, falling to my knees just short of his body and crawling the rest of the way. He looks up at me, dark circles under his eyes, his face sallow from the stress of the rites as if they were stealing pieces of him away.
I wrap my arms around his chest and begin to pull against the magical tethers.
Tears stream down my cheeks as I feel him leaning into my touch, soft murmurs spilling from his lips.
"You." Astarion mutters under his breath, "You're still here." His voice sounds pained, "You're still alive."
"I will never leave you." I sob, struggling to pull him free, the magic at our knees beginning to flicker. "Gods!" I grit out, as the bonds release and he falls against my body, sending us both to the floor.
I rush, gathering him into my arms and brush my hand over his cheek repeatedly, his head lolling back and forth in my arms, sweat coating his brow. His eyes roll back and he blinks, looking up at me, the light beginning to return to his eyes, the color seeping back into his face the longer that the connection is broken.
Astarion pushes himself up, and reaches for me, cupping my face in his hands. I stare up at him for a moment, watching as he blinks away a single tear and kisses me softly.
I close my eyes tightly, enjoying the press of his lips against mine, but touch his ribs gently, pushing him away.
"No," I mutter, "No, he's gone. He's not dead."
Astarion furrows his brow and looks around, he then points to the large stone container across the room, propped up atop the temple's dais. "There," He swallows, "His coffin. He's in there."
He stands, pulling me to my feet and pressing another kiss to my cheek.
Two bright red arms encircle my waist as Karlach pulls me into a hug then rests my arm on her shoulder to hold me up.
Astarion doesn't look back as he walks between the star's points towards the alcove with Cazador's coffin, I can almost see the resolve in his shoulders. I feel a pang in my chest at the sight of it, something doesn't feel right.