The Song of Roland Ch. 19

Roland's free hand scrabbled for his blade. He grasped it with a white knuckled grip, slashing at her stomach. He connected with skin, and the creature only avoided a painful disembowelment by stepping off of him. She let out an inarticulate growl and charged forward again. Roland sidestepped her, using the cramped confines of the stall to his advantage by grabbing her arm from behind, twisting it behind her back and applying weight. He heard something snap, but the Succubus merely slammed the back of her head against his nose.

Stars and galaxies exploded in Roland's vision, and he staggered back into the main aisle, clutching at his bleeding face. He managed to step away from her follow through, feeling the wind on his face as she put her weight into her punch, doing her best to knock his head clean from his shoulders in a single blow. Roland stabbed forward, but his sword arm was encumbered in the cramped spaces, and the Succubus narrowly turned out of its way. He attempted to slice at her again, but she caught it with her hand, blood pooling in her fingers as she forcefully wrested the thing from his grasp. She snapped the weapon in two and tossed aside the shattered pieces, a self-satisfied grin on her face as she languidly lapped at the blood on her palm.

"Oh, such spirited foreplay! You'll be a wonder to ravish."

Roland kicked the door to the stall closed, turning and sprinting down the aisle as he took advantage of the momentary distraction to try to escape. He didn't get far. The Succubus tackled him from behind, rolling atop his body as the two wrestled amongst the flames. A bit of the burning balefire caught on his arm and he yelled out in pain, patting frantically at his burning bicep as the Succubus moved to pin him. Now truly desperate, Roland shoved the fire in the Succubus' face. Though she was not harmed by the spell, she was momentarily blinded, giving Roland enough time to throw her off of him. He tossed her into the nearby stall as he rolled to his feet, managing to put down the fire with only a modicum of burns. Adrenaline was all that was keeping him going at this point.

"Stay down!" She snarled, leaping forth from the flames like a literal Demon. She built another ball of fire in her hand, throwing it callously in his direction as he ran towards the entrance. Roland was forced to dodge into yet another stall, this one with a gaping hole from where the superheated fires had eaten away at it. The Succubus' fireball connected with one of the central pillars, blasting it apart, the shockwave knocking Roland bodily away. He was blasted clear of the building, through the hole as the barn began to collapse. The Demon, unable to follow, was forced to make her own precipitous flight towards the main entrance to avoid being crushed by falling debris.

Unwilling to wait and see the end result of his bloody battle, Roland took off at a run away from the barn, praying that he might by some miracle escape this fatal combat with his life and his mind intact. It was only after nearly a minute of solid running that he dared to glance back.

There were fires now everywhere. The better half of the Cloister was aflame, blue torches that blazed away sections of the fog by the dint of their callous disturbance. The air was clearing, and Roland could see that the western half of the town had been all but eradicated by the Demonic attack. There were ground tremors coming from the eastern half, and the rising shout of war told him that the walls were now heavily invested by the attacking Demons. Perhaps that was why Roland himself remained thankfully unmolested as he fled down the streets; they'd moved on to juicier targets in the Inner Cloister. He skidded behind the half-collapsed wall of a burned out building, leaning against it as he gasped for air.

Roland looked down at himself: his arm was burned, scratched and bloodied. His back ached from where the Succubus had shoved him into the wall, and he was light headed and dazed from the smoke, covered in soot and grit. His head was throbbing and he was empty-lunged from the exertion. But he was alive. He took a long, deep breath, exhaling as he closed his eyes.

Through his eyelids he saw a sudden flash of blue light enter his vision. The roaring sound of the conflagration followed an instant later. Roland barely had enough time to leap out of the way before a truly massive wave of fire swept across where he'd been continuing its deadly journey forwards, slamming into the crumbling white wall of the Inner cloisters. It crested the battlements and overtook the smattering of bowmen standing on that portion of the wall.

Painful cries echoed in the night, rising above the din of death and destruction that already coated the air like the sickness of war. The burning men toppled from the battlements, their bodies fiery pillars as the blue fire licked across the charred stone, leaving black soot in place of the pristine white that had been there before. An entire section of the wall had been hit, and in the distance Roland could see defenders scrambling about in disorder and confusion. What few homes had not burned down in the first penetration of the Outer Cloister earler were now on fire. The world was so bright that it was possible to see across the whole of the village. Roland gaped at the devastation.

Roland lifted his head, staring in the direction of the still-burning wall. Already dozens of Imps were scaling the walls, digging into the crumbling stone with their long claws as they began the dangerous journey upwards, made infinitely easier with the death of the nearby defenders.

Roland's eyes reflected like twinkling candles in the heavy light. He pulled himself to his feet, staring at the havoc, ruin and desolation that abounded and surrounded him.

"Fuck." He whispered, more as a prayer than as a curse.