The streak became more intense, glowing blindingly bright and crackling with immeasurable power. As lightning surged from the spear, the two horizontal blades produced wide-reaching flanges of electricity. Even Gradius was awestruck as he witnessed the titanic serpent of light slithering across the sky.
"Servant of Relampargoza: Divine Winged Snake!" Aithorn called.
He swung his arm, and the spear plummeted out of the sky like a meteor towards Gradius. In a desperate act, Gradius unleashed a powerful jet of fire, trying to destroy the spear before it could reach him. Despite the intensity of the blast, the spear drilled through it, piercing fire with lightning.
The spear struck its target like a missile and a catastrophic explosion of lightning was released, pausing the rain as the resulting mushroom cloud twisted the storm overhead. Aithorn was tossed through the air by the resulting shockwaves, and the elves perched atop the walls nearly fell to the ground.
It took a few moments for things to settle, with Aithorn lying on the ground, barely able to move. The Winged Snake was his strongest spell and came at great cost. Not only had every drop of mana within him been used, but he was rendered blind and deaf from his proximity to the explosion. At least he was still alive and conscious to feel the returning rain. What little strength he had left was being focused on keeping his heart and lungs working.
He lay there for a few minutes, gathering enough strength to drink two potions, restoring his senses and some of his stamina. He slowly got up and limped over to Gradius, now lying on the ground, unmoving. His armor, which had withstood all his flames, was now blackened from the explosive surge. Lodged in his helmet was Aithorn’s spear, smoking and steaming just like Gradius.
"May Tarnas forgive me," he muttered as he pulled the spear free.
"So you two were the ones causing all that racket and making such a mess."
Hearing the familiar voice, Aithorn turned to face the new arrival. He was an elf with dark skin and silver hair and eyes, wearing black cloth armor. He was standing not on the ground, but floating on a circular platform of silver mana. Floating around him were nine melon-sized silver energy spheres, and within each one was a constellation of stars, similar to runes.
He looked down at Aithorn with a hollow gaze as if he were an insect, and seemed utterly indifferent to the rain. The sclera of his right eye had turned red from a burst capillary, and above it was an enlarged vein pushing against the skin of his forehead.
"Leuca Aithorn, the White Serpent."
"Valon Zodiac, the Silver Sage," Aithorn replied.
"You and Gradius are making too much noise and leaving a mess. Leave now or die with him."
"Valon!" He turned, seeing Valia standing nearby, her face wet with tears and rain. At last, the brother and sister faced each other.
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