Amaro attempted to gather his surroundings. The Oskuutor had broken through their defenses. Where was Sancta? Where were his brothers? Everyone was scattered.
The bell chimed one more time, and he was face to face with it: The very same Oskuutor who crushed his brother. He could sense Raktus’s magic within it. It grabbed hold of him, lifting him into the air. It stood on its hind legs, its grinning maw baring down at him. He could see into its hollowed eyes. A faint light which circled about deep within the black void that surrounded it.
He felt its squeeze, laughing with Raktus’s voice. Screaming in his tone again. Amaro panicked, summoning his lightning to escape, but finding the Oskuutor was nearly immune to it. He gazed into the small light within its eyes. It was Raktus. Raktus was still trapped. He imagined how frightening it must have been to be trapped within a monster. If Amaro was going to die here, he would at least free his brother’s soul! He struggled against its grip, prying one of his arms free and punching into the Oskuutor’s hollowed eye socket.
The tone of the bell rang out again. Something filled his hand. He gripped onto it and pulled. The Oskuutor’s laughter vanished. It squeezed harder. Was it worried about something? Amaro was quicker, he yanked the object from its eye socket, flesh and tendon desperately trying to hang onto it. He felt the Oskuutor’s grip weaken. It threw him away into the snow.
Amaro lost his grip on the object, as the Oskuutor desperately scooped it up and absorbed it back into its body. He coughed, pain screaming in his brain with every breath he took. The monster had crumpled his rib cage so easily. The pain was unbearable, but Amaro was grinning, “Oh what’s that? Are you afraid now?” He staggered to his feet, pulling Quinrai from the snow, “I’ve found your secret, haven’t I?”
The monster hissed, its grin returning as its head bent at an unnatural angle. Lightning arced from its body, blue fire gathering in its maw. Amaro retreated behind an ingen tree, only for it to be sawed in half overhead by that beam of fire. It was far more powerful than anything Anitus could accomplish. Was the Oskkutor mixing their elements together too?
There seemed to be no limit to the powers these monsters had. However, they had one weak point. If Amaro could grab that object from their eye again, perhaps that held the key to killing them?
No, it did not make complete sense. Amaro had surely cut its head to pieces both before and after the bell had rung. He had dismembered them, Anitus had burned them to ashes. Where was that object hidden in their bodies?
Unless it was always shifting around. He rolled out of the way of another blast, lightning pushing him forward fast enough to only barely avoid the Oskuutor’s attack. He tumbled to the ground in pain. He couldn’t keep going like this.
He felt the object appear in his hand the moment the bell rang. He hadn’t been quick enough to get the object before. A blade of quickened silver. Silver had always been associated with Amaro right down to the gift his father had given him. He loved to ignore the meaning behind it, but now it would have been useful information.
The Oskuutor’s hand bent the tree he was hiding behind. Amaro retreated again. Silver. What did silver mean? What was it associated with?
He spotted his brothers in the distance, and changed course. The Malaki slashed at the back of his leg. He stumbled, posting on his hand and coiling his tail around his injured leg for support.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
His brothers were standing over an unconscious Sancta. They were each gravely injured and surrounded by Malaki who sought only to torment them. They could not absorb metal magic, and therefore they did not need Tulos. As Tulos picked Sancta up over his shoulder, the Oskuutors struck their spear-like appendages at him. Anitus pushed his younger brother out of the way if only to take the blows for him. The Oskuutors cackled, dragging Anitus through the snow and swarming over him like ants to a spider swarmed Anitus, jabbing down into his body as he scrambled in pain. Tulos had summoned a meager iron sheet to defend his brother, but that only prolonged the monster’s torture. They enjoyed tormenting him, their jagged grins spreading ever wider with each new hole they made for his body.
Amaro shot himself forward with all his might, slamming his body into one, and covering over his brother with his own body. He locked eyes with his siblings as the world slowed down one more time. Amaro grabbed his brother, and took a step. No good, his leg was too unstable. He could hardly carry his own weight, let alone Anitus. He felt a searing hot pain pierce through his shoulder. He slipped past another appendage aimed for his neck and bit down on it like a rabid beast. That voice wasn’t there, and the power it had given him had nearly drained. He’d used so much of it at once. Now there was something missing inside of him. Something he could not place.
With all his strength, he flung Anitus through the snow towards his other siblings. Amaro deflected a blade-like limb with Quinrai. He felt a cut open across his thigh. Another searing pain punctured his back. He cut himself free. A cut laid over his eye. Blood blocked his vision. A fist slammed into him, and he was sent tumbling. His wrist snapped, as he slammed into a nearby tree. He released whatever magic he could. Those things wanted his power? He would show them his power. He kept going, “I’m not dead yet! Come and get it!” He shouted over the pain in his ribs. Over the coward that screamed for him to run. Lightning blasted in every direction, gathering the attention of those monsters. He didn’t care how much it hurt. As long as he could give his siblings a chance to escape. He could still think faster, even if he couldn’t act fast enough. He picked up Quinrai with his other hand and brandished it. They would not take his siblings. He would die before then. The reaper’s blade was on his neck, and he dared those Oskuutor to swing it.
“Thanks for the light show, kid. Helped me find you all.” A voice rang in his ears.
RING!
The hum of a bell carried through the crowd of monsters. It sounded the same as before, but it persisted, humming indefinitely. Amaro watched something only he could see. Even with the world slowed down, the figure was a blur of gray. He blinked, and standing in front of him was a xiozian cloaked in gray clutching a dark blue orb. It swirled with agonized faces, releasing the occasional white burst of light. The xiozian crouched next to him, and dropped it in his hand, “This one is yours to crush. You’ve earned that much.” The xiozian flicked his forehead, a wave of relief washing over his body like a drop in a pool of water. He could feel his bones mending in real time, “You’ve got at least five years before you’re ready to talk like that, though.”
“My siblings, save my siblings!” He stammered out.
“I have every intention to. Bite into that orb and free the souls trapped within. The Oskuutor it belongs to will die shortly after.”
Amaro looked at the orb in his palms. Bite into it? He had no time to question it. He fit the orb into his mouth and crunched down on it. The orb shattered to dust, sweeping away with the winter winds. Amaro could see golden lights around him, sweeping and swirling up along into the stars above.
The figure stood up, unsheathing their blade. The blizzard winds swept its cloak to the side, revealing the xiozian’s crimson tail. Liquid metal arced over their head, reflecting the glint of the moon above. The metal regathered, solidifying into a humble blade as another prolonged hum rang above the blizzard’s howl.
“Now rest, young warrior. Awake to a new dawn.”
Sleep.