Once again Zephyrion went through the agonizing awakinging from being knocked out. He was on his knees, the sharp stone bitting through his trousers. His shoulders were pulled taught behind. A few stiff movements told him his hands were bound around a rough wooden pillar. The bonds were retied with great care. He took a deep breath, the damp air filled his lungs, the stretch of his chest pulled at his shoulder, a sharp pain ran down his arm. He opened his eyes.
It looked like the heart of the city. Tall concrete buildings surrounded him reaching high into the fog. A faint reminder of the slums he was pulled from to participate in this death festival. He was in the center of a large almost circular clearing. a mosaic tiled stretched out around him. A crumbled statue laid fallen over across the clearing. In front of him the man with a scar along his cheek, The leader Zephrion assumed. Was sitting on a barrel. He must have realized that Zephrion was awake now for he stood, the man moved in smooth motion with gracefulness of a predator stalking pray.
The man pointed his knife at him. " about time you woke up boy" he said. He flipped his knife into a complex twirling rhythm, jumping from finger to finger. A practice motion obviously. His voice was a hard, commanding, used to people following orders. "Zephyrion Stormveil." He said in an assured tone. No doubt he know who Zephyrion was. He continued. "You have quite the price on your head for such a young lad. Do you know why that is?" He said finishing in a mocking tone .
Zephyrion tried to talk through the gag. A slur of incoherent swears were all that could be heard. A loud crack echoed through the square. Zephyrion's head ripped to the side
"Wrong answer boy" Hot blood ran from the gash where the man's fist met Zephyrion's cheek. "What I don't understand is why…" The man paused mid sentence.
A cut off shout pierced the quiet of the clearing. At the edge of the circle next to the statue a man crumpled to the ground. A sword protruding from his back. A small framed figure stepped out from behind the fallen statue
*No….* Zephyrion thought. He knew the figure. Calmly she walked over to the fallen man pulling the sword free. "Run. Get out of here" He tried to shout through the gag. He pulled at the rope. It felt like he was going to rip his shoulder off. He didn't care. His eyes couldn't leave the newcomer. The sword came free. The splattering blood a bold contrast to her royal blue cloak.
The man with the scar looked at the four guards that brought him here. "Stop standing there like the sparking imbeeciles you are and go kill her!" He shouted.
Zephyrion pulled harder against the bonds. His shoulder felt like fire. He jerked and pulled harder. "Why is she here, Did she come for him, She must have seen that they were surrounded, Why isn't she running? ". The thoughts raced through his mind, the last one worried him the most. The three men were almost half way there. He yelled into the gag. A guttural scream with all the pain and desperation he felt. He bit into the gag so hard his teeth would have been broken, if not for the very rag.
He clenched his fists so hard his nails started to draw blood. His mind raced for an answer. He pulled harder. The three men were almost at her, the younger one of the three was steps behind the other two. A thunk sounded behind him. Before he could figure out what it was he felt his bonds go slack.
He was on his feet, dagger pulled within a breath. Flipping the dagger so the blade was in his palm. he raised his hand and cocked it back behind his head. He shot into a dead sprint his arm whipped forwards. The dagger was inbeded in the younger mans back before he could take his next step.
She just stood there sword raised. Stance calm and steady. As if she was a master with the blade and she was posing for a picture , Not two men double her size racing to kill her. He knew she wasn't a master with a blade. There was no way she could hold her own.
He had to get there! He was too far away. Half the square stood between them. Rage burning deep in his chest. Why couldn't he save a single person. He had tried so many times in his life, why couldn't this one end differently. She had come to save him he saw the look in her eyes. The same look he'd given before. Yet all he could do was watch her die. Just like everyone before her.
Then he felt it. Like lava in his chest. A cluster of fire and ice churning where his heart was. Instinctively he reached his hand out a chilling cold ripped down his arm. The men stopped mid step. One man at the start of hit sword swing.
Zephyrion blinked as if in slow motion. When his yes closed a deep cold eternal voice sounded in his mind. "I Bestow My Blessing."
His eye opened. He lifted his other hand. Heat hotter than fire charred his veins. Pure white surrounded him. Lightning shot from his palm. The sound of a bomb wracked his ears. *blink* Another voice harsher, older surrounded him " I Bestow My Blessing".
His eyes opened every thing tinged in a green and purple hue . A loud sharp ringing raped his ear. She looked up at him, Her eyes full of fear. Two scorched bodies piled at her feet. Smoke curled up from their remains. He scanned her for signs of burns. None, not a single thread was singed or burnt. He could hear the faintest yelling like someone was shouting from leagues away. Then he saw her face it was a pretty as before. He felt relief flood him. He saw her lips… and realized she was the one yelling. Then as if the explosion had never happened, his vision cleared, the high pitched ringing ceased. Her voice was as clear as a bell through all the concofiny around him.
"Behind you" she screamed.
He turned just in time to see a knife plunged into his heart. The air seemed to be sucked out of his lungs. His limbs seem to be made of lead. As he fell onto the mans shoulder. Arms reaching out to stablize himself. The man pulled the knife back. Zephyrion could hear it scrape across his ribs. Somehow it didn't hurt, almost as if he wasn't even stabbed. It felt like radio static spreading across him. Not good, not bad, just numb. The man shouldered him off. Zephyrion fell like a doll dropped on the floor. The man bent down wiping the blade on Zephyrion's trousers. He looked him in the eyes. "Most people don't know there's a delay of about three seconds before one truly fuses." He said with a soft smile. He leaned down and whispered in Zephyrions ear "Nice try boy"
He could hear the blood in his lungs when he went to breathe. The feeling of drowning made him cough hard and deep. He closed his eyes and let every muscle relax. The blackness of his own mind comforted himself. "Ani Benedictio" powerful voice chanted. in Zephyrions head.