Breathing heavily, the young woman leapt back, putting half a dozen steps between her and the creature. She wiped a bead of sweat with the back of her hand. “You’re something else…” she mumbled, smirking.

Midhir gritted his teeth. She was tired. Of course she was – how long had they been fighting? It felt like an eternity. No matter how gifted, how strong and skilled she was, she couldn’t keep this up forever. This had become a battle of attrition, and despite the confidant façade she put on, he could see right through her – she was aware of this too.

With a grunt, he struck Lord Aulorn’s shattered sword into the ground, and used it as leverage to push himself up.

“You can walk?” She asked, sparing only a glance for a split second before fixing her gaze on the creature again. “Get the hell out of here Midhir, Victor should be nearby, and-“

“No,” he cut her off weakly. “It won’t die.” He turned his gaze to the creature. It’s body was riddled with cuts and bruises, with black ooze slowly seeping out of them. It shouldn’t even be able to stand, let alone continue fighting. “Ilya, you should leave.”

Ilya’s head jerked to the side as she shot him a deathly glare. “What?” She asked, her green eyes glimmering with anger. “You-“

Midhir pulled the sword out of the ground and pointed it at the creature. “That thing isn’t dying!” He shouted, stepping forward. Each step was a fight, against his aching body and throbbing head. “It won’t, so get out of here and get some help. I’ll…” He hesitated. “I’ll try and hold it off.”

The creature raised its chin, its crimson eyes looking at them with what almost seemed like enjoyment.

Ilya scoffed at the mere though, shooting him a meaningful glance. “Bull,” she spat. “Hold it off – hah!” She laughed.

He gritted his teeth. “Just-“

“No,” She brandished her blade, turning towards the creature again. “Shut up, find Victor, and bring him back here!” Her blade burst into flames. “He’ll seal the tear, and I’ll take care of this one-“

“With what?” Midhir cried out. “Ilya, I’m holding his sword! I don’t even know if he’s alive anymore!”

Ilya stopped in her tracks. “His sword…?” Her voice trailed off as her bewildered gaze locked onto the shattered sword. “Victor-“

The creature leapt forward silently. Had it not been in Midhir’s view, he wouldn’t have even noticed that it moved. As it approached the bewildered Ilya, Midhir’s heart raced. “Look out!” He shouted as he kicked the ground, rushed towards her and pushed her aside as the creature’s claws dug into his chest.

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Searing pain jolted throughout his body as the scent of burnt flesh reached his nostrils. His vision blurred as a gasp escaped his lips.

A flash of light sent the creature flying across the opening. The sound of it crashing into the trees broke the momentary silence. “Midhir!” Ilya shouted. He felt her touch on his chest, and the warmth of a healing resonance. As the wounds on his chest healed rapidly, his back arched with the unbearable pain. As the pain subsided after only a few heartbeats, Ilya’s hands latched onto his arm, pulling him back up on his feet.

“Thanks,” She said as she pushed the hilt of her sword into his palm. “New plan – you seal the rift, I keep it busy.” She shot a quick glance over her shoulder to see how far the creature was.

Midhir’s gaze followed hers. It had just gotten back up on its feet and was walking towards them. It was in no rush, as it took slow steps, and took its time licking the still wet blood on its fingers, all while looking at them with a maniacal glee.

“I can’t!” He grabbed her arm before she could charge at it. “I’m out – I’m completely drained. I can’t even light a candleflame right now!” He pushed the sword back towards her.

Ilya’s jaw tightened. Her eyes narrowed with a mix of anger and pity. “Fine,” she spat. “I’ll seal the tear – you’ll survive.” She squeezed his shoulder, then rushed back towards the tear in the veil, sword in hand.

“I’ll survive,” he whispered in repeat, mostly in an attempt to convince himself. Still desperately holding onto the broken sword, he faced the creature.

It’s gaze lingered on him for a while as it slowly walked towards him. With a twisted smile that showcased its fanged teeth, it pointed towards Midhir, then at its own chest.

“Yeah,” Midhir breathed out, trying to steady his shaking arms as he grasped the hilt of the sword with both hands. “I’m your opponent.” He breathed in and out slowly, trying to calm his racing heart.

The creature cackled, once again repeating its odd motion. It pointed at Midhir, then at its own chest. It’s claw-like finger drew circles on its black blood covered skin. Then, it pointed at him once more.

Was there something on his chest? He glanced down quickly. His torn, blood soaked shirt still somehow covered most of his chest, but through one of the tears, he spotted a line on his skin. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, quickly raising his eyes. Ilya probably needed a few minutes to heal the tear and completely fix the veil in this area. All he needed to do was keep the creature busy.

It spoke again. Words he couldn’t understand mixed with words he could, sending his mind into disarray. He grunted, tightened his grasp on the shattered sword’s hilt, and readied himself.

…Envoy… Betrayed us!

The creature shouted. He only knew what a couple of words meant in its long tirade. “Who betrayed you?” He shouted back. Did it even understand them? “What does any of that got to do with us? Go back!” It probably didn’t understand.

The creature growled, bent its knees ever so slightly, then broke into a dash.

As it seemingly appeared in front of Midhir, a bright light shone from the tear.

“In the name of the Ardagh House, I offer my blood to protect these lands!” Ilya’s powerful voice rang as she made a small cut on her arm and let the blood flow onto her sword.

The creature’s eyes widened. It stopped just as it reached Midhir, slid on the ground reorienting itself, then leapt towards Ilya.

“No!” Midhir shouted, dashing after it.