Chapter 50:

  Stryg stared at Jax in surprise. How could he have been so foolish? Of course Jax was still here. How could he have been so stupid to not check his surroundings thoroughly. He had been blinded by his eagerness to kill the damn downed goblin.

  “I’ve been waiting for this moment ever since that day we first met,” Jax said.

“The feeling’s mutual,” Stryg grunted. He tried clawing at the iron bolt with his good arm.

  Jax laughed, “Then today is your lucky day.” He glanced at the downed Leroy, “Where’s Karen?”

  Leroy shook his head, “I-I don’t know. Jax, I’m bleeding here. I need help, please.”

  “Oh, shut up. We can take care of that once we’re done here. Safety first, idiot,” Jax said. He looked at Stryg and chuckled, “I learned that from you, you know? I learned to keep my distance too. On account of what you did to my face.”

  Jax pulled off his cloth mask to reveal his disfigured face. His nose was gone and in its place were two small holes.

  “I had to learn to do a lot of things differently. Like wear a mask every time I go out. I also learned how to shoot a crossbow. This baby was quite expensive I have to admit. Not something a commoner could normally get their hands on. I barely managed to get her off a black market in the night district.”

  Jax patted his crossbow affectionately.

“Why don’t you let me get a closer look?” Stryg said through grit teeth.

  “You’d like that wouldn’t you? Don’t worry, you and I are going to be spending a lot of time together from here on out. I’m going to have fun ripping off bits of you for days.” Jax began to reload the crossbow with another bolt.

  The first bolt was lodged deep into Stryg’s shoulder and the wall behind. No matter how much he tried, Stryg couldn’t pull the bolt out. His intangible shadows wouldn’t help him here either. He wasn’t like Melantha the Blue, able to destroy an entire host of enemies by herself. He was just some goblin idiot about to be killed by another goblin idiot.

  The door to the back room creaked open. Jax turned his head to look past the hallway. Karen had tried opening the door slowly to make less noise, but she hadn’t counted on the rusty hinges. She winced in shame at her horrible blunder.

  Stryg cursed silently. She was supposed to be a damn pickpocket, silence was meant to be a given.

  “Karen, is that you? You’re just in time,” Jax curled his lips. The lack of a nose made the smile look like a horrid imitation of a person.

  Karen’s eyes widened in fear. She tried pulling the door closed. Jax raised his crossbow at her. Stryg roared in raw frustration. He kicked the wall behind him with all the force he could muster, his shoulder ripping right past the bolt. He didn’t stop and instead used his momentum to rush at Jax.

  Jax swiveled the crossbow at Stryg and fired right as Stryg tackled him. They both slammed into the ground with a crash. Stryg could feel the second bolt lodged into his leg, his nerves firing off in agony. Jax tried to get up, but Stryg used what little strength he had left to slap him in the face, his claws raking across his eye. Jax screamed in pain. He pulled out his own dagger and slammed it at Stryg’s chest. He caught Jax’s arm right before the blade sunk into his flesh.

  Stryg was stronger than him, but he could only hold the dagger back with one arm, whose strength was quickly failing. He groaned in pain as the blade’s edge began to cut through his chest. Jax laughed maniacally, pushing the dagger down with all his might. An iron blade slipped into Jax’s back. He arched backwards and cried out in pain.

  Stryg caught Karen’s silhouette from the corner of his eye. He didn’t question her reasoning for coming back. He didn’t waste time, he lunged forward and sank his teeth into Jax’s exposed jugular. Before Jax could stab him, Stryg ripped away, tearing the gangster’s neck open wide. They both collapsed to the floor.

  Karen watched the scene in shock. She had seen Stryg wrestling with Jax. Stryg was about to be killed, she had been terrified of what that meant for her family and her. For once in her life she couldn’t just stand by. She had stumbled into the room, picked up Stryg’s knife and stabbed Jax in the back. She had actually done it. She had attacked her tormentor, her fear hadn’t gotten the best of her. Karen shook in disbelief at the entire situation. Jax was dead and Stryg, he was...

  “Stryg!” Karen rushed to his side. “Are you okay?”

  He lay on the floor with a bloody shoulder and an iron bolt lodged into his leg. He spat out the green flesh in his mouth, “Of course not.”

  “Oh, gods what do I do? I don’t know what to do!?” Karen shouted in panic.

“Get me closer,” Stryg took a weak breath, “to his body.”

  Karen looked at Jax’s corpse with doubt, “Stryg, we need to find a doctor. I don’t even know first aid.”

“Closer, dammit,” Stryg said through bloody teeth.

  “Uh, right,” Karen gingerly helped Stryg to his knees and pulled him closer to Jax’s body.

  He could barely feel his body anymore, the numbness taking over. It was good, it meant the pain was dulled, making the next part easier, that was if he could only stay focused. Stryg touched Jax’s arm with stiff fingers. Jax had only just died, his body was still full of life energy, hypothetically.

  “I-I’m not M-melantha,” he whispered softly.

  Stryg willed his fading mind to focus with all the meager volition he had left. He needed to survive, the thought consumed everything else. His heart pulsed with power as grey mana flooded into his veins and into the tips of his fingers. His body began slowly, but steadily draining the life energy of Jax and absorbing it into himself.

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  Stryg could feel the warm lifeforce coursing through him and pooling into his shoulder and leg. His will was depleting, his mind crumbling. He released the drain spell before it could backfire. He felt his body sink through the air. Karen caught him before his face kissed the wooden floor.

  “Stryg are you okay, what just happened? Why does Jax’s body look kind of grey?” Karen asked, worry seeping from her voice.

  “I-I’m okay.”

  His mind was tired, but his body felt like it had a bit more energy. He could at least think. “I got the bleeding to stop in my shoulder at least. I’m not sure about my leg. We need to find a doctor. I know one in the trade district.”

  “Good,” Karen sighed in relief. Her head shot up, “Wait, where’s my family?”

Stryg looked around, “Where’s Leroy and the others?”

~~~

  Leroy limped away from the hideout as fast as he could. The moment he saw Stryg tackle Jax to the ground was the moment he decided that Jax was done for.

  Leroy wouldn’t die because of some stupid vendetta. He had crossed paths with Stryg thrice now and each time ended with others in a bloody mess. Leroy didn’t plan on adding to the body count.

  He saw one or two stragglers run out from the house as well. He tried following them, but his cut ankle slowed him down. He shouted for help, but none answered.

  It didn’t matter, none of the others mattered anymore. He’d find a new gang, on a different side of the commoner district. As far away from that blue freak as possible.

  He turned a corner to where the other thugs had gone. A couple of sentinels came into view and shambled towards him, their iron chains clinking across the ground.

  “Shit,” Leroy cursed as he fumbled to find his iron nameplate.

The sentinels drew closer and raised their chains up high.

  “Shit, shit, shit,” Leroy cursed.

  Finally, he found it and brandished the nameplate at the sentinels right as they closed in on him. He breathed a deep sigh of relief.

  The sentinels slung their chains at his head. He fell to the ground with a sickening wet crunch. The sentinels raised their chains again and swung them down with a monotonous repetition. They didn’t stop.

~~~

  Celica Skeller, white mage of Hollow Shade, prided herself on her quality service. Her ability to heal injuries was well-known in the trade district. People looked up to her, she was respected in the district. A prominent orc amidst the middle-class menagerie of drow and vampire. People wouldn’t dare to disrespect her, much less brazenly bother her. So, why in the world was someone knocking on her door at midnight?

  Celica groaned from her bed upstairs. She was regretting staying the night at her clinic. Her husband had the carriage with him and the walk to her house in the bourge district was a little too far for her taste. Still, she would have gladly taken it had she known she would be woken up at this late hour.

  Celica reluctantly sat up, put on her slippers, and shuffled her way downstairs. She cast a white bright spell and created a small orb of light as a makeshift lamp. All the while the incessant knocking didn’t stop.

  Celica eventually got to the front and peeked through the small hole in the door. She opened the door with a sigh, “What in all the bloody Null Realms are you doing here?”

  Stryg stood on two shaky feet, he was heavily leaning on Karen for support.

“Hello, my beautiful savior,” Stryg said with a small grin.

  “Well, at least you remembered how to address me,” Celica crossed her arms. “But flattery won’t be enough. Why are you here in the middle of the night?”

  “I would have gotten here earlier, but we were slowed down a bit,” Stryg said.

“I’m closed, come back tomorrow at some godly hour,” Celica began closing the door.

  “Wait, please, it’s urgent,” Stryg stuck his hand out.

  “What happened? Get jumped by gangsters again?” Celica questioned with a raised eyebrow. She noticed his meagerly bandaged leg.

  “Actually, I did the jumping this time,” Stryg said.

  “Huh. Yeah, you don’t look very good at that, still you seem to be hanging in just fine,” Celica noted. “Come back tomorrow if you want me to patch up whatever scrapes you got and make sure to bring money. I’m not cheap.”

  “We’re not here for Stryg,” Karen interrupted.

“And who are you?” Celica asked.

  “I’m no one. But, my sister is everything, please help her,” Karen pleaded with tears in her eyes.

  Celica looked past her doorway and noticed a goblin woman holding a small child. Shirleen cradled Sophi in her arms, making small cooing noises. Sophi didn’t respond.

  “What happened to her?” Celica asked, walking up to Shirleen.

Shirleen ignored her and continued whispering to Sophi.

  “She was badly hurt by some gangsters. It’s faint, but she’s still breathing,” Stryg said.

“Then we can’t waste time,” Celica reached out to grab Sophi.

  Shirleen gripped her daughter tight and backed away.

“Mom, please. She’s a white mage, she can heal Sophi. Let her help,” Karen said.

  “Shut up!” Shirleen screamed at the top of her lungs.

It was the first time she had spoken since Sophi was attacked.

  “This is your fault! I told you! I told you to talk to me. To tell me if something was wrong and you lied. S-sophi. She. S-she…” Shirleen fell to her knees and rocked her child in her arms, crying over her.

  Karen reached out her hand, but held back. Her mother was right. This was her fault. It was all her fault.

  Celica crouched next to Shirleen, “I know you must be hurting a lot right now. But, if you don’t let me help your daughter at this very moment, I promise you will suffer much worse.”

  Shirleen looked away and stared into Sophi’s still face. Shirleen’s tears stained Sophi’s pale cheeks.

  “We don’t have time for this,” Stryg pushed himself away from Karen. He limped over to Shirleen and slapped her across the face.

  Shirleen tipped right over from the blow. Her grip loosened on Sophi.

“Karen grab your sister, now,” Stryg ordered grimly.

  Karen didn’t need to be told twice. She ran up to Sophi and picked her up gently.

Shirleen grabbed Sophi’s shirt and tried to pull her back, “Let go of her!”

  Stryg grabbed Shirleen’s wrist, “Sophi is going to die.”

Shirleen and Karen froze at the morbid implication.

  “Sophi will die,” Stryg continued, “You’re powerless to stop it. There’s nothing you can do to prevent her death. Unless, you let her go right now. Let. Her. Go.”

  Shirleen’s lip quivered as she looked at her child.

“Sophi,” she murmured. Her grip loosened. Karen pulled Sophi away slowly.

  Stryg turned to Celica, “Your turn.”

  “I don’t agree with your violent methods, but it’ll do. Come inside. I’m charging you extra for the late night visit,” Celica motioned them into the clinic.

  “Of course you are,” Stryg shook his head. “I’ll need some patching up after you're done taking care of the girl.”

  “That’s extra,” Celica said.

“Of course it is,” Stryg sighed.