Zeva had never fought so hard in her life.

Her opponent was a monster. Covered in shallow cuts, blood pooled by her feet, the shrike was panting heavily. Her opponent walked around her in circles the edge of the scythe tailing Zeva's movements like the head of a viper. He exploded into motion rocketing towards Zeva. Tired as she may be, instinct made Zeva step back making the scythe miss by a hairsbreadth. Now's her chance she realized. She leaned forward slashing with her daggers. Her opponent seemed to have anticipated this. Twisting his wrist he pulled on the scythe, a guillotine headed straight towards Zeva's head. Eyes wide, she brought her daggers up at the last minute, manically cycling as much air as she could to cushion the blow. The scythe crashed into her. Zeva couldn't hold the momentum back and she was hammered into the earth. Her daggers were the only thing keeping the scythe away from her flesh. Her wrists were now broken. It was all she could do to not pass out. Unconsciousness meant death. Not only her's but of untold numbers. She had to keep the voyager away from them at all cost. Something was off with that boy. All the other shallow injuries she had accumulated weren't helping either. The dark energy consuming her vitality with each passing second. It was time for drastic measures.

Roaring in defiance, she let out a shockwave of air pushing her shadowy adversary back. Before he could react, Zeva was there slashing at his throat with her dagger. He blocked it with his hilt. Zeva didn't let up the frequency of her attacks. Another empowered slash came followed by another. Giving the Void one no chance to build momentum with his scythe, constantly harrying him with increasing tempo. Every single technique and every single sequence she knew in the Dance of the tempest was thrown at the abomination. She became the tempest with her razor-sharp winds.

Still, this was a stalemate that couldn't last and the Void one was well aware. He would weather the storm and strike when the opportunity presented itself. Zeva started to flag and before long she made a misstep overextending to the right allowing the shadow to disengage and swing at her unbalanced form. Zeva was waiting for this. Channelling every single bit of Aum she had, she hurled her dagger at the shadow right as the scythe bit into her shoulder. The scythe cutting through her breastplate lodged itself deep into Zeva's torso, as she fell to the ground. The Shadow looked at her impassively with one eye, as there was a circular hole where the other should have been. It fell back into the dirt, dead.

Aaron's feet touched the ground as the wind surrounding him dissipated. "What the fuck should I do? They're both dead". He went towards where Zeva lay. Blood rapidly accumulating beneath her. Aaron heard a wet cough. He looked at her intently, deep in thought and he made a decision that would shape him for the rest of his life.