《The Legend of Black Eyes》39 - The Key Holder
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The trees were dense inside the forest but that didn’t bother Myles. He was heading for a general direction, not for the shack’s exact location. Earlier when Lord Supreme inspected the Painted World, Myles saw that the stream ran along the western edge of the forest. He only needed to find that and follow it to the shack. The initiator’s silence during lunch earlier proved she was hiding.
He pricked his ears for movements behind the trees. He didn’t go after Rose. By the time he was done fighting Slender, the silver haired woman was long gone. Tracking her would take him more time than finding the shallow river.
‘Those dark orbs must’ve been some kind of defensive mechanism.’ Myles dreaded those dark spheres. He had never seen such magic before. Not even his master was capable of such a feat. He feared that the one casting the orbs was the initiator.
‘This means that the Scion is weak,’ he was grinning from ear to ear. ‘I wonder what kind of power a Scion has anyway…’
Absorbed in his thoughts about the Scions and the Holi tribulations, Myles didn’t realize he’d just crossed a shallow stream. It was only when he’d realized that his trousers felt heavier and feet colder that he stopped. He turned back to find the river then followed it downstream. The painting showed the shack to be near the right corner of the frame.
‘Vivian – That vixen suspected something.’ He was still absorbed in thought as he walked along the stream. ‘Cane is also acting distant, does he suspect something too?’
Above him, the sun had already begun its descent. He had until dusk to find the key holder. He’d have to fight the Scion too. The others were searching for the second key, or had already found it. Rose was lurking somewhere in the darkness, trying to assassinate him. He was risking a whole lot keeping the charade going, at that irritated him.
‘I shouldn’t have agreed to it in the first place. Does he think he owns us?’ His thoughts had taken him to darker places. He cursed under his breath then broke into a trot then a sprint. ‘They might’ve found the key and hidden it from me. I can’t confront them, not without revealing my true identity.’
He suddenly came to a full stop as he noticed a small wooden shack on the other side of the stream. ‘She must have covered this place with protection spells,’ he thought while observing the place. The mutilated dog was at the door, flies buzzing around him. It was exactly as in the painting.
‘What would master do in this case?’ He stroked his chin while devising a plan of attack. The door to the shack was wide open. Nobody peeked out of it though. It looked too quiet, too normal. Myles took a stone then threw it at the small house. It flew in the air then disappeared halfway through. It looked like it collided with a soft surface then disappeared inside it.
He took another stone, transformed it into an arrowhead then threw it. The stone changed back into its previous form as it came into contact with the soft surface. As soon as its transformation was complete, the stone got absorbed and disappeared.
“Aetherbane!” he hissed. “That’s how you want to do it then?”
He stared at the empty small house. There was a protective screen around it. No magic could enter it. The transformation magic he relied on was rendered useless. He slowly advanced toward the invisible protection screen. It was at the opposite bank of the stream. He cursed himself for not paying the armory a visit. He didn’t know who or what he’d fight right after crossing that barrier.
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“So be it,” he said with a heavy sigh.
He walked forward, crossed the shallow stream then soon his hands came in contact with a soft substance. He pushed on then emerged on the other side. A woman, as tall as Myles, stood before him. She wore a plain green dress. Her ample thighs peeked under long cuts on each side of the dress. A long blue cloth was tightly wrapped around her waist. She stood before him in a fighting position.
“You’re not Greta anymore,” Myles said as he got in position too. The woman was holding a curved sword. Myles heart sank as he realized the troublesome situation he’d just put himself in.
“You’re unarmed,” the woman answered. She didn’t have one voice. It seemed as though a thousand voices were speaking at once.
Myles walked around the woman. He made sure he kept a good distance from her. He frantically looked around for the wood chopping axe.
“You’re weak,” he told the woman as he circled around her.
“You assume too much, child,” the thousand voices answered.
“You could’ve attacked as soon as you realized I wasn’t armed.”
“I told you boy, I need answers.” The woman dashed forward, taking Stalwart by surprise.
He dodged the curved sword’s pointy end in the nick of time, but found himself lying on the floor. The Scion had used the sword thrust as a feint then kicked his legs off the ground. She was standing above him, her sword pointed at his throat.
“We have time for a brief talk before one of us dies,” she said with an eerie smile.
“What do you want?” Myles tried to move but the sword followed, ever so threatening.
“For starters, what’s a Fairy doing here, so far from home?”
“You’re a Scion,” Myles answered. “You should know, even if you’re just a fragment!”
“We’ll soon be whole,” the thousand voices answered. “We’ll soon overthrow that usurper and take our rightful place!”
“Overthrow? You’re so weak you can’t even use magic. You rely on tricks to gain power. Do you really think the Game Master will overlook your treachery?”
The woman suddenly let go of her sword then grabbed Myles by the throat. He was levitated off the ground. His feet kicked the air as he suffocated. “Insolent!” The voices echoed inside Myles’ head. “Answer our question!”
“I’m – a – Familiar!” he answered. “My master’s Darkstar.”
The woman let go of Myles who fell to the ground panting and coughing. The woman was looking at him, her eyes wide open. Noticing her shock, Myles instantly dived at the sword. He swung it at the woman who blocked it with her forearm. Blood splattered Myles face.
The Scion didn’t seem to mind the injury. She looked at Myles with her eyes wide open. “Your master’s a bad man,” she told him. “He’ll be punished first when we take back what’s ours!”
Myles poked at the Scion with the curved sword. He soon found himself rotating in the air. He didn’t even know how he was disarmed. The Scion was holding the sword in her left hand this time, and she was quickly advancing. Her right arm was bleeding but she just didn’t seem to care.
Myles quickly retreated, looking for the axe. He was near the shack’s entrance. The Scion was just a few paces away from him when he got inside and closed the door behind him. He needed a second’s delay, just enough to find something to defend himself with. What he saw inside the small wooden hut made him forget the danger outside.
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There was a replica of the mansion atop a wooden table. The roof and ceilings had been removed to allow for an eagle eye view from the sky. Myles saw little drawings representing his friends inside the building. They were all in one room. They were sitting on the floor with some pictures scattered around them.
“Did you really think the door could stop us?” a thousand voices spoke behind him.
“They have the second key!” Myles said.
“All you have to do is take ours now, and be free!”
Myles turned around to look at the Scion. “I know why you fear him, my master. To be frank, he scares me too.”
“But he doesn’t own you!” the thousand voices said. “Join us! Bring us the second key and we’ll break the seal that binds you to him.”
“I’ll be long dead before you do that woman. I’m not stupid.”
“Oh but you are,” the voices answered. They spoke in different tones and paces. Listening to them speak could give you a headache. “When the game ends, the Game Master will give us our rewards. We shall pick you too, unbound, free.”
“I’m not escaping one form of captivity to land into another!” Myles took the mansion’s replica then threw it on the woman’s face. One swing from the sword was enough to slice it in half. But that’s all Myles needed, a chance to start his attack.
He tackled the woman, breaking the hut’s door as he slammed her against it. They both fell outside, the scimitar a few paces away from them. Myles stood on top of the woman, holding her by the collar. He started punching the woman, even landed some elbow jabs on her. With every punch her head would bob sideways. She laughed all the while, thousands of hisses and wheezes that chilled the bones.
Myles felt a slap in his elbow joint. A kick at his ribs ensued then he found himself rolling on the ground. He immediately stood up and got in position to fight. His eyes searched for the scimitar but couldn’t find it. He slowly moved his eyes toward the Scion, dreading what he’d see.
She didn’t have the weapon either.
The woman smiled then jumped at Myles. She aimed a kick at his head, which he dodged dexterously. He answered with a jab aimed at her lower jaw, which she parried and punished. Myles felt his head bobbing sideways as the woman’s elbow hit him with full force.
She followed the elbow attack with a kick to the knee. Myles fell down to feel the woman’s heel on his face. He was thrown a few paces away, face first into the dirt. The assault would have continued if Myles hadn’t anticipated the woman’s next move. He turned on his back just in time to see her plunging down at him, feet first.
He blocked the attack then flung the Scion aside. He quickly got up and went after her. She was already in position, ready to counter any attack. Myles gave a feint with his left shoulder. The woman raised her hand to block then Myles launched a low cross, toward her ribs. His fist was slapped away though. The momentum carried him downwards before he stopped himself. He looked up to see the woman smiling.
He had dropped his guard.
He saw her foot approaching his face rapidly. It happened in a flash. But to him it went in slow motion. Not the kind of slow motion in which he could act, but the kind during which his body was immobilized, helplessly watching doom approaching. His nose made a cracking noise. He felt his teeth breaking. The taste of copper filled his mouth.
He fell to the ground once more. He opened his eyes to see the woman standing above him. She kicked him once in the ribs then stomped on his stomach twice. All air left his body. He tried to move but his body refused to do so. The woman’s moves were fast and decisive. He tried to punch her legs, get her on even grounds. But she held his arm and twisted it at a dangerous angle. She then sat on top of him; put her knee on his gullet as she observed him with mocking eyes.
“Presumptuous,” she told him with a voice akin to a thousand whispers. “You should have looked for the second key.” Her knee was getting heavier and heavier on his throat. He was losing consciousness. Myles did the only thing he could think of in this desperate situation.
He shoved his bony fingers between the woman’s legs.
A thousand voices shrieked, sending chills down Myles spine. The woman fell back down and Myles rose to his feet. He didn’t have time to hesitate. He kicked the woman between the legs, causing more loud shrieks then kicked her in the face, throwing her at the ground. He sat on top of her chest, pummeling her to death.
The woman’s head bounced against the floor as Myles landed punch after punch. She wasn’t going to give up easily though. Her legs suddenly sprung up then wrapped themselves around Stalwart. She pushed them forward.
His back was immediately brought to the ground, with the woman sitting on top of him. His legs were bent at a dangerous angle. The woman was about to deliver her revenge when he threw his arms around her torso and rolled to the side.
They were struggling on the ground for what seemed an eternity, trying to gain the upper hand. Water splashed as they reached the stream, turning one another from one side to the other. They kept exchanging punches all the while. Their faces were swollen but their will to fight never faded.
The Scion had finally gained the upper hand. She was sitting on top of Myles’ back, holding his face below the shallow water. He could feel pebbles and mud collect around his nostrils as he struggled to wrench himself free from her clutching hands. They had left the Aetherbane zone as they struggled.
Myles hands flailed about as life was being snuffed out of him. He tried to reach her in every possible way. He tried swaying to throw her off. It didn’t work. He tried to push with his hands upwards but she always punched his head back inside the muddy water. He’d swallowed a couple pebbles in his two last attempts to break free.
As he was punched down for the third time, his right hand landed on a solid object. He mustered all the strength left in his left arm then pushed with all his might. The woman wasn’t pushed aside though, only slightly elevated above his body. But that was enough for him to quickly turn around and land on his back.
He used the momentum to hit her temple with the stone, which he transformed into a sharp arrowhead.
The woman tilted to the side then rigidly fell to the water. Myles got up, coughing, wheezing. He spat for what seemed an eternity, trying to get all the mud he’d swallowed out. He felt thirsty, but couldn’t drink the water from the stream. It disgusted him.
He went to the woman then inspected her neck, looking for a pulse. Her body shone a bright light then a glowing golden ring flew out of it. The golden object floated in the air then hurled itself at Myles. It went through his ring finger and settled there. The glow instantly disappeared.
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