《Age of Legends》Chapter Thirty One

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Patri paled considerably, utterly dumbfounded by what had just happened. What he had partly allowed to happen. He hadn’t received as vivid of visions from Ta’K and the others but he was still reeling from the emotional impact of sharing essence with so many at one time. He was still lost in the smell of cinnamon that seemed to grow stronger by the minute. Patri was distracted on all fronts when the young noble woman at his feet sprang to life for the first time since Mezir had brought her back to their little crew.

Why didn’t I see anything about her?

Patri’s mind was scrambled, asking the wrong questions. He commanded himself to focus as he stared at Mezir’s impaled leg streaming blood down the curvy black blade sticking straight through his thigh. He begged his body to move as Mezir made a sound of pure primal pain… and rage. Patri screamed at himself inside to go after the fleeing noble woman as she darted behind his injured friend and ran. She was headed back towards the road into Blancana from the looks of it. Didn’t matter. He couldn’t move.

It wasn’t fear or panic that froze Patri, though those were both building in him by the second, he couldn’t even turn his head. Mezir was gripping the blade in his thigh, mouth open wide as the canyons of Uma’ desert, belting no doubt… but Patri couldn’t hear it. In fact, he couldn’t hear anything at all anymore. Patri’s sight remained. His mouth tasted like an acrid man’s ass so taste was entirely intact, to no benefit of course- but it wouldn’t move either. He was frozen and deaf while his friend was tearing an ominous blade from his body. He was useless.

Can… Can I even breathe?

Patri’s heart walloped for a few quick beats, then slowed. Weakened.

Does my chest hurt? Will my eyes mo-

They did move, indeed, quickly so. They snapped down to Patri’s chest before the thought could finish and he had instantly regretted it. A lake of dark stain spread across his grey cotton shirt. It hurt. Not physically, his body was still numb, slowing with each passing second. It hurt because he recognized the blade instantly. Shadows and figures moved in his peripheral vision but he couldn’t make them out to anything sensible. His mind was fumbling. Patri’s vision tunneled and he saw only one thing. Just the blade etched with an “S” in the finest counterfeit jewels he’d been able to find.

An anniversary gift for Senfe. One he had smelted and hammered all his own. A thing of beauty, just like its owner. Patri saw tears build up before his eyes but was ignorant of the sensation of them running down his cheeks. The scent of cinnamon had all but engulfed him. It reminded Patri of when they made love.

Love? Is this love? Is this my love?

His answer was brief and crude beyond all measure. Against Patri’s own will neck raised his head high, he could see the slender fingers on the side of his head just barely poking into his vision. Long nails of all colors, decorated with glittering beads, rested against him gently for a moment before his world spun.

Patri’s head alone swiveled, leaving his body facing Mezir and the others… and he saw her. His beautiful, kind, trustworthy Senfe in her natural glory. A goddess among men, he had always believed. Those full lips that had brought him to his knees on a near-nightly basis now smiled at him with cold disdain. Her adorable button nose that Patri had always loved to poke and play about being her one truly feminine feature was now only inches away from his face, sticking out like a dagger situated on Senfe’s prey. He’d seen it before, that look, the high she got when she took a man’s life… he’d never expected to be on the receiving end of it though.

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The only thing that broke his dying wish to stay in her arms and fade with the wind, happy despite it all, was her eyes. They were wrong. They were not his Senfe’s eyes. This beast had eyes as white as Luna’s crater pocked face shining high above their world and held not an ounce of kindness in them as she stared him down.

This is not my Senfe. This is not my love. This is… is... not…

***

Amberosin had her face buried in Ta’K’s nature scented shoulder when she felt Mezir rip his hand from her own shoulder and roar like a wounded, ravenous animal. By the time she had looked up to see the noble woman sprinting away Mezir had just torn an obsidian blade from his thigh and was turning to throw it at the fleeing attacker. Ta’K had already moved to aid Mezir. His body looked thinner than before he had cast but nowhere near as sickly as he had at the Tainted’s bar. Korrin was still weeping torrents when she lunged in the opposite direction of Mezir and Ta’K, towards-

Pat?

It took her a moment to register what was wrong with the man standing before her. A man she had known for the majority of her shitty life, who was generally kind and helpful… who she beat to a pulp every time she’d had the chance… she knew how Patri looked but her brain refused to see what was wrong. Until she saw the shadow behind him. The glaring white eyes broke through her denial, seemingly lit up Patri’s sickening image for her naive mind, just before he fell to the ground. His head faced entirely the wrong way and though his body fell onto it’s stomach, Patri’s wide pupils, his undeniably dead eyes, landed right on here.

Patri?!

The words wouldn’t escape her mouth. All that escaped a soundless growl as Amberosin’s hands grabbed the thin, minutely serrated blades from the back of her shabby clothing. By then Korrin was already clashing with the stranger.

The walking dead!

Amberosin flew a good two heads above Heria who had just turned at the touch of Ragoth’s hand. She slid, rolled, and dove again with blades extended, striking just when Korrin finished a heavy slash of her own short sword. The shadow before them kept skipping through the swathes of light coming from the bright moon’s above, too fast for a good look, but too slow to keep Amberosin from seeing a pattern.

She waited until the murderous shade was only five steps away and struck like a patiently waiting serpent. One blade high, one blade low, both held parallel to her forearms. One, two, three- clashes of steel on steel. The shadows' arms were beginning to glow with the signs of burgeoning essence. They came faster than before, sidestepping Korrin’s valiant attempt to sweep their leg with her own blade, it’s purposely bent tip scarcely missed their leg. But scarcely was enough. Their own ornate sword shone, reflecting the light from above to show Amberosin their attacker's face.

Her arms went weak with numbness when she saw Senfe staring back at her. Eyes white enough to chill her blood. It had the exact opposite effect of looking into Mezir’s eyes. No invigoration, no hope, no love. An empty, white canvas of destruction stared back at her, suddenly making the beautiful Senfe seem much older. Harder. Crueler.

The maddening grin on Senfe’s face did nothing to quell the effect on Amberosin. It was all Senfe needed, a moment's hesitation, just a sign of weakness.

Amberosin’s blades both slipped from her paralyzed fingers.

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Despite her fear, despite the immeasurable pain of betrayal… and loss- despite the hopelessness of her situation, Amberosin snarled and lunged forward.

Determined to meet Senfe’s blade on her own terms.

***

She felt Ragoth’s hand on her shoulder. Warm and gentle- but firm.

Tap. Tap. Tap-Tap.

They’d perfected unspoken communication over the years serving as “Mezir” and his trusted number two. Heria. Heria- who she needed to be right now. Regardless of her own stupor and conflictions with the lives she had just experienced, with her own life, she moved with the efficiency and speed that Heria had built. Helena wasn’t prepared for these situations. Not yet. She’d been buried for far too long. It would take time, she knew. But time wasn’t available just then, so Heria took charge.

Ragoth dashed off after Mezir and Ta’K who had chased down Lili-Bon. Mezir held her high above the ground, thick shadows swirling around his body, spawning from his metal arm.

Lili-Bon!… No. Later. Think later. Think less. Move more. Faster! She made her choice.

But had she? Did any of them really have a choice? Heria didn’t care. Caring was left for Helena. Heria struck.

Essence shone up and down each of the dreads on her massive arms, glowing bright yellow, red, and green. Yellow she used to call forth the soft soils around her and had it fling her towards Amberosin. The red she cast out carefully, precisely commanding it to move Amberosin and Korrin with unseen hands just before a white-eyed woman lunged at Amberosin.

The green vanished from her dreads as she landed, seemingly without cause. Heria glared at a beautiful woman with eyes of purest white that marked her as a child of Lord White’s.

Great. Wouldn’t want this to be too easy.

White’s beautiful bastard laughed as she shot forward with a speed that spoke to some invisible casting. Of course, she can do it without a shine. Of course. Oh, fuck it. She sprung her trap, much, much earlier than she had planned. Heria grasped at what little hold she had on the green essence that had cast into the ground and tore it upward. The dead man… Patri… was swallowed by the maw of roots and dirt that opened wide in Noctra’s forest. There was a boom like a cannon shot from afar before all that rose crashed back down and affixed itself so much as it could. Mounds of rubble, of upturned lands resettled, dotted the clearing before Heria.

Amberosin and Korrin both stared with wide eyes, a tinge of a smile on Korrin’s lips. Korrin.. Who I didn’t even recognize until I was deep within her mind…. Korrin…

***

Heria didn’t see it coming, she was too busy looking at Korrin. Korrin was severely impressed with her dear friend for the feat she had just managed but all she could think was pay attention, you idiot! Don’t look away! But it was too late to say anything of the sort as one of the new mounds made of dirt and Noctra’s other natural resources shimmered for a moment before it exploded in a ball of multicolored light. The woman, Senfe if she remembered right, was riding the light like a flying board beneath her feet, almost already in front of Heria, blade held high.

Amberosin ran forward, completely unarmed, and jumped up to meet the flying woman with a hard kick to the stomach. Amberosin’s natural speed and finesse made Korrin appreciate the young woman in a new light, albeit, a bit of a lustful one.

Not now Korrin, if we live through this then… maybe.

Korrin smirked a little harder at the thought as she barreled into Heria and knocked them both out of the way of Senfe’s now riderless board of light and essence. Amberosin had the white-eyed woman pinned to the ground, both hands securing her wrists while Amberosin’s muscular legs dug pointed knees into Senfe’s thighs.

Senfe was laughing. She knew, as did Korrin, as did Amberosin it seemed, that if Amberosin made a move to choke the woman, to punch, to grab for a nearby piece of natural shrapnel or one of her blades, she would lose her grip, and the fight. Her life would be forfeit. Korrin watched from not even fifteen paces behind the two women wallowing in soft soils that had quickly become wet from dissipating essence, smearing mud as they rolled one way or the other, Amberosin always on top.

Senfe stopped laughing when she realized how wet the dirt around her was and was visibly straining to keep Amberosin back while she fought to hold her mouth away from the building liquid about them.

Heria must have struck water underground...

Even from as far back as Korrin and Heria were, they could both see Amberosin’s back muscles lose tension, no less resolute or firm, but much less knotted. Now it was her turn to laugh. Korrin and Heria stood, Heria turning to check on the others, Korrin facing Amberosin who was forcing Senfe’s face into the watery mud. She could see Senfe’s body building with the light of essence but it went nowhere. No matter how hard Senfe visibly struggled to cast it out, at Amberosin, it seemed to dissipate before any true harm could be done, though it did look like Amberosin felt quite a few stings.

Korrin saw it touch Amberosin a few times and wither with a cloud of dust she could barely see floating up with the sigh of unstable essence fading. Part of her felt like she should stop the girl but she couldn’t place why… it was just. A deserved end for Senfe, it seemed.

An end that wouldn’t come just yet.

***

She wanted to hold Senfe down and feel her lungs fill with mud, with dirtied water and stones toppled by Heria’s attack. Amberosin wanted swift revenge for Patri, longed to feed her newfound rage before it disappeared but something was bothering her. Senfe had stopped fighting, though her rising chest told of life still preserved. She no longer thrashed or bucked. Didn’t move a muscle outside of shallow breaths.

Even with a creeping dread spreading throughout her body Amberosin only pressed harder against Senfe’s neck, shoving her face as deep down as she could. Consequences be damned she was going to have this. Her world had been changed, shattered enough as it was without such an awful betrayal. What gave Senfe the right to fuck it up even more?! What gave her the right to destroy Amberosin’s ideal for a good, strong love?!

Fucking useless child of a monster in the guise of a man! Fucking whore! Patri loved you!

Amberosin only screamed as she began pounding Senfe’s face over and over, holding her down with one hand while the other went to work. She would kill her and destroy her beauty in doing so. She needed to do it. No matter the cost. No matter the price it placed on her already struggling soul.

That night Amberosin killed with her bare hands for the first time.

It was so intimate she almost got sick. She swayed on top of Senfe’s still body. She swayed from side to side until fell in the mud- the grime coated blood and gore from Senfe’s devastated, caved face- and sobbed.

After a moment she felt a hand on her back. She rose, covered in filth and death to find Korrin staring at her with soft, tear-filled eyes.

I know. I know.

Amberosin wished they could weep together here until she felt weak enough to sleep but she knew better. With Korrin’s help, she forced herself to shaky feet and took a deep breath. She straightened herself on Korrin’s shoulder and looked up towards the others in time to spot a ball of shadow slam into Ragoth.

Heria was already in the air but she would never make it in time. Amberosin could feel her chest tighten, her stomach knot, as she watched the woman try to stop the inevitable. She wished she could tear her eyes away but the tragedy beckoned her to observe. Korrin was letting go of her to sprint too, rushing to save a friendship the likes that Amberosin was sure she’d never had.

She swore she could hear laughing in the wind. Followed by a chilling scream.

The noble woman was crawling in front of a mass of shade that had consumed Mezir. Ta’K had his hands raised in front of Mezir, pointing towards Ragoth and the others…

Trying to stop him? Trying to save him?

No… she realized… he’s trying to save us.

The laughing only grew louder. It was coming from above. From the cliff’s ledge.

A figure draped in White adorned in a horned helmet stood up there, staring down at all of them like insects in a glass cage.

She was running before she even realized it. Straight towards the cliff.

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