The first one went down in a heap of gold flames. The next was speared with her hand. Then next was punched. Kicked. Quickly, Cyril found she could morph her fire into weapons if she just willed it. The first was a spear of flames that used to spike three zombies together before the flames engulfed them into heaps of nothingness. She let out a wicked, gleeful laugh as the flames morphed into different shapes. A sword. A dagger. Each and every single one killed several zombies with each strike.

But she grew too confident in her flames. The zombies still came in fives and tens, each clawing for her. One had finally managed to reach her. Its blackening teeth clamped down around her arm, forced forward but the others. Cyril roared, and the flames that encased her burned hotter, blasting away the zombie and the tens around her. She screamed as another managed to get close. A whip made of golden flames sliced the zombie from head to toe.

Cyril brought the whip around, and it sliced the zombies around her. It circled around her once before she pulled it high into the air. It arched upward, leaving a few fluttering flames in its wake as it slapped down against the stone. A dull explosion rang out as the stone cracked, and flames leaped across either side of the whip. The flames, like waves, washed over everything within ten feet of it. The smell of burning flesh and wood filled the air.

A circle of crawling zombies reached out for her, but she only ignored them. She walked down the path she had created; eyes locked on the open double doors at the front where a storm howled with death. Two spears of ice whistled through those doors, and one was met with a flaming spear head-on. The other one struck Cyril's center chest and sent her flying back a few feet.

She landed back in her circle and the zombies began to claw at her. Cyril let out an irritated roar, her mind completely consumed with pure killing intent for Jogun. Flames burst from her body, fanning out around her. The flames sent the zombies flying back before they burned away mid-flight into ash. Cyril crawled to her feet, her wings fluttering madly before she flew forward with a mightly flap.

More spears of ice whistled out from the white, but Cyril had been ready now. She sent a current of fire forward and it melted the ice into steam before they reached her. The front of the cathedral was blown apart as the fire crashed into it. The storm, its winds circling around the monolithic building with precise, was pushed back from the surge of heat.

What was revealed was tens of ice-encased bodies men, women, and children. The people who had tried to escape had been killed by the storm. Frozen in different postures of pain on the steps of the cathedral. Jogun stood before the bottom step. Two of his four Black Warrior guards on either side of him. A large.

"Your time has passed, your Grace!" Jogun roared as he clenched the stone in his left hand. "Since you have chosen the humans over us, Lord Lahabiel and I will have to kill you as well!"

He said so with a heavy heart. The High One Cyril was supposed to be their Goddess. Their maker. Their everything. Even when the humans had pushed the High Elves from the south, Push them back into the Enchanted Forest around Fable's End; they kept believing she'd return to them. She'd right the wrongs done. For she was the one who had created the High Elves. They were supposed to be her children.

And after so long, she returned... And took the human's side. Jogun's heart twisted with metaphorical pain, as he was undead and could only feel emotionally. She was no God of these, even if she had created them. She was one of flames and destruction. His eyes were open to the truth. Cyril did not repeal as she landed on the top of the steps. The layer of golden flames that covered her skin was non-transparent and licked at the cold air hungrily.

Yes... Jogun thought. She is a cruel and destructive Goddess... She should've never returned to this world...

Two black slits appeared in the flames were her eyes were. They looked over the three quickly before it landed back on Jogun. Then she flung her self down the steps with a mighty war cry that made the ground tremble. Jogun materialized another ice spear in the air by his head before sending it streaking towards her in a blue line. He dove to the left with a Black One. The other dove to the right. Cyril smacked the ice crystal aside, shattering it millions of shimmering pieces before it joined the dead below.

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She landed on the paved plaza floor, fire splashing out around her as she did. Her wings flapped a few times before she dove at Jogun, who had already slipped back into the blizzard. Instead of finding him, she found a black skeleton. Armed with a longsword, it'd been ready for her as it brought its sword down. Cyril hadn't been ready for it as it cut through the flames, melting as it did.

The steel hit her like a hammer, splattering molten metal across her left shoulder. Cyril screamed in pain as she knocked the sword aside with mounting fury. The skeleton tried to strike her again but Cyril speared her hand up like a knife; her fingers stabbed up its empty mouth. Fire instantly poured into its head and jettisoned out its eyes and nose.

Unlike when before, where it would crumble and return to Lahabiel, it didn't crumble. No. Cyril had felt the soul in it, and she grasped it with a mighty vengeance. Her flames ate at it. The soul knew instinctively what was happening, and it clawed at her burning arm. The black matter that covered its bones glowed hot before it burned away. The bones beneath disintegrated under the heavenly flames instantly. Within seconds, the soul had been destroyed and the skeleton fell away.