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Chapter 6
When Dani had shut her eyes, she gave in to the immense call of death. Its hold took over her senses and spared no mercy. In the dark of her own mind, she saw no other end than her brutal murder. But, when the impact came and the ground heaved, there was no pain. Save, for a sudden wind that shoved her back against the stone wall.
A grunt squeezed out of her lungs when she fell back onto the grass. Her limbs scrambled to right themselves, then moved to steady the crooked glasses atop the bridge of her nose. The smoke had disappeared, casted aside by the crash and its subsequent winds. Before Dani, the creature stood as clear as day. A throaty bellow resounded as it drew breath. Craggy fangs grinded against one another while an incessant drool poured out from between them. It had stopped.
To Dani’s astonishment, a woman stood between them. A brilliant, ivory aura drifted about her steady frame like a cloak of pressure. In her left hand came the shining vestiges of a knight stone. And, caught struggling between the clutches of her right, was the beast’s claw.
“Ezabel!?”, Dani shouted.
“Dani, take Leonora and run!”
Ezabel’s body coursed with a newfound energy. It was a power unlike anything she had ever experienced. A surging influence that coated every fiber of her being. An unshakable strength. Her previous pains had been purged and all was renewed. She had no explanation as to how or why she was able to suddenly employ such a potent force. But, there was one thing her newly empowered gaze was certain of.
Xavier was a tougher match than this thing.
With a smirk, Ezabel balled her left hand into a fist. Every knuckle cracked as one. The ivory semblance that danced about her shape, condensed into her arm. Then, without hesitation, she unloaded a ground-splitting punch into the monster’s gut. The blow struck clean and wrenched the ichor about its skin. At once, the beast was violently ejected through the stone wall on the farside of the yard.
Old boulders rained down upon the area as Ezabel darted after the monster. Her strike had sent its body skipping through a field of wheat on the outskirts of the walls. Every impact forced a rippling wave throughout the crops before it finally landed in a great puff of dirt. Though it had just suffered a daunting blow, it managed to bring itself to a slow stand. A minor consolation that was cut short when Ezabel flickered into view, just under its chin.
A split second reaction saw both of its claws swipe forward. An unbridled attempt at slaying her on the spot, to no avail. As quickly as she had appeared, Ezabel leapt into the air and buried her knee into its lower jaw. The beast reeled back, but gave no further ground. The ichor upon its back bubbled to life, and spewed forth a dense, muscled tail. It whipped around, bludgeoning her out of the sky.
A trail of flattened farmland hounded Ezabel as she plummeted back onto the dirt. Her cheek fell flat against the ground. She groaned out of sheer irritation and rolled onto her back. In the distance, her periphery had caught a glimpse of Angoulet proper. A village of golden specks laid flat against the evening shade. All at once, they faded from view and a sudden weakness took hold. Her vision dwindled. Her body ached as it did before. As if every ounce of spirit had been taken away, fatigue resumed its place within her like a rapid sickness. The knightstone in her hand waned. Its light had ceased to answer.
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“No. No!”, she clenched her jaw. “I am more than this, please!”
The monster bounded in her direction. Powerful limbs slammed deep into the field. Not a second later was its hulking shape airborne. With a deafening roar, it came plunging down like a comet. Until the very last second, Ezabel shook the knightstone. A desperate plea for power that ended in failure and a brace for impact. Bloodthirsty claws screamed forth. Its descent was swift and its weight engulfed her.
“PLEASE!”, Ezabel cried at the top of her lungs.
Her senses failed. She could neither hear nor feel. Yet, her hand lifted by its own will. A stroke of radiance ignited in her palm, where a great pillar of fire lifted high into the air. It spun a scorching white inferno that formed the outline of a blinding sword. - Between her fingers, it lay light as a feather. Yet, she felt within it, a might unlike any other.
There in the middle of Angoulet’s remote farmland, Ezabel lifted the sword and met the creature head on. She stood with every last fragment of her willpower and buried the blade deep within its neck. Its momentum fell upon the weapon and came to a full stop.
Its snarl declined. Its eyes dimmed. Its claws fell limp. Life had gone from its form and saw that the monster melted away in its entirety. Around her, it was reduced to a pool of bubbling ichor. The sword freed itself from Ezabel’s grip and vanished from sight, taking with it the final moments of her consciousness.
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ATTENDANT
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“Are you certain it was a knightstone?”, Atalanta questioned.
The sun had hardly broken over the horizon and its orange glow was much too far to provide any thought of day. Regardless, the early hour made no difference to Leonora when she wrung magic from her personal knightstone. Etched across the surface of her desk was a composition of runes, arranged wholly in a circle. Their markings were intricate, but hastily made.
Still, when her magic was siphoned and flowed complete among its grooves, it penned a spell into the air. The echo of Atalanta’s voice manifested at once, albeit rather bent. The result of runes casted atop a weak material. The wood of the desk was no substitute for proper, treated metal. However, it would have to suffice as their predicament was entirely too sudden.
“Yes. I know of no other force that could have allowed him that kind of power.”, Auguste answered.
There was a tinge of uncertainty in his delivery, caused mainly by his concern for Leonora. He stood beside her when they had first casted the spell and stayed there while she maintained it. There was an obvious strain about her effort. Not only had she been hurt at the hands of that monster, it made it all the more difficult for her to keep the spell from bursting the desk. She needed to keep it intact until their conversation had finished.
“We’ve never seen anything like it.”, Leonora added. “It was as if he was consumed entirely by the power. In the end, there was nothing left of him or that stone.”
There was no answer. Only the low hum of magic that flowed white before them. Auguste and Leonora exchanged glances of uncertainty. Not once in their time had they encountered such an enemy; one that was evidently capable of manipulating a knightstone. Something that was supposed to be thoroughly exclusive to an Attendant Knight. - After a moment of pause, Atalanta spoke.
“What of our knightstone?”
“No harm has come to it. Fortunately.”, Auguste answered.
“Good. Then you are to return it to Gracewind along with your advancing candidates.”
It was an unexpected and ill-designed reply in Leonora’s eyes. It did nothing but add to their concern.
“Are we to do nothing else!?”
“The Citadel will pursue this incident with proper care. Neither of you are in a state to do anything else. See to it that those who can continue are ushered to the capital. The trials begin soon.”
What else could they do then but listen? Atalanta was a clear superior, both in rank and skill. With reluctance, they nodded to one another. Leonora dangled her head in frustration. She clenched her fist and accidentally brought about a distortion in the spell. Its aura flickered, suddenly unstable.
“Understood, Atalanta.”
Auguste replied. His hand then rested atop Leonora’s shoulder and led a calm within her. He was right. There was no point in vexing one’s self any longer. The monster had been struck down and the injured had been cared for. Without any further knowledge, there was nothing else they could do. The spell stabilized beneath Leonora’s palm.
“Then, what of the girl?”, Leonora added. “She is still unconscious. She can’t be moved in her current state.”
The spell once again hummed amidst silence.
“What is her name?”
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