Chapter 30: Don't Fight Me, Ignite Me, Part 4

1

Yes, it was easier to give up, naturally.

People needed something to hold onto, and Yonah didn’t have much right now. No time, no hope.

For Caim, they had been that something at the beginning, but in the end, he had inevitably been drawn to the Tower. What he sought was a reason for his suffering. Yonah already knew the answer long before even approaching the Tower.

Like everyone else, there was no reason.

Life was a cosmic accident; it meant nothing. Yonah didn’t know what was beyond the skies and the stars, didn’t know how the world was created, but she knew this for sure:

Everything the reverend had said was lies. She didn’t know if they were the lies of a snake deceiving people to take advantage of them or if he himself believed them. But it didn’t matter; that wasn’t the point.

Everything Victoria still somehow believed in was a lie.

Ah, it was hard to think with the lack of oxygen and the darkness threatening to claim her vision and everything she had dared to believe was hers.

Dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.

That was the only truth the reverend had ever told. The vast majority of human beings were born, grew up, and died without changing anything except the patch of land they were buried in. If they were lucky enough to be buried properly, that is.

The answer Caim sought, the reason why they were here, why they had come this far, didn’t exist anywhere.

Even if it did, it’s not like he would nod and say: Oh, now I understand. It’s fair.

Her eyes closed. She couldn’t keep them open even if she tried. Well, it wouldn’t achieve anything anyway. It wouldn’t stop the inevitable. How many times had she thought about telling him? Caim, we hate other people for the color of their skin, for their sexual preferences, for having more than us, and for having less. Why wouldn’t we hate a race with horns, stronger and harder to kill than any of us?

How many times had she thought about replacing his desire with something else?

If having a friend wasn’t enough for him, maybe becoming his wife would work. She loved him, after all. Not in that way, but it didn’t matter; she would have been willing to try.

Yonah thought she should have at least tried. To die without regrets, being able to think that this was really inevitable, that she couldn’t have done anything about it because she had already tried everything.

Oh well.

With or without regrets, the end was the end.

She would disappear forever now, and it wouldn’t mean anything at all.

Her eyes were already closed.

Her thoughts became increasingly vague due to the lack of oxygen.

There was no strength left in her arms and legs; she felt like a living doll.

She thought: I can break as easily as a child would break a toy they’ve grown tired of.

She thought: I recognize you. You are a chain that is about to break forever.

What had they been holding back?

She would die without even knowing that.

The darkness and silence took everything away like an unstoppable tide.

2

“Let her go!” Victoria shouted. “Let her go or I’ll kill you.”

She could hardly believe what had just come out of her mouth. Even more so, that those words were fully justified. She should have done something, anything, sooner.

Still with his hands on Yonah’s neck, the thing that had taken over Caim’s body turned its head, fixing her with a gaze as cold as death. Even if it hadn’t done anything yet, she would have known at first glance that it wasn’t him. That something had happened, and he wasn’t himself. No, she had known. From the moment he turned his head towards her, gritting his teeth, roaring.

At least then he had reacted like a wild animal.

Now it was as if he was looking at a ghost. Empty. Dea...

He’s not dead!

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He dropped Yonah carelessly. Why would he care? It wasn’t him. Victoria swallowed and resisted the urge to take a step back.

That thing could probably "smell" her fear anyway.

The creature spread its arms to the sides, as if mocking her.

“Well then. Go ahead, try it.”

She had no reason to feel guilty. It’s not like she was putting Yonah’s life above Caim’s. If she attacked, she risked killing him. If she didn’t, all three of them would certainly die here. The problem was that she wasn’t ready yet. Yonah had fought valiantly and bought her time, but not enough. No, she thought as she saw that monster smile as if it had already won, the problem was that the enemy knew it.

The monster lunged forward, with its arms and tentacles spread to the sides. Just like before, it gave itself an extra push with them, allowing it to reach previously impossible speeds for him. And Victoria had never been very fast. Quite the opposite.

Magic was a slow, careful process, and she was even slower, a consequence of living among dusty books. Magicians dedicated themselves above all to the refinement of magic, not its more practical and immediate applications in the real world.

In other words, she couldn’t escape him.

Victoria decided to try something she never thought would work. She stepped forward, brandishing the staff, making its tip flash with magical energy that roared and writhed, about to explode.

In response, that beast narrowed its eyes and leaped. It ended up hanging from the ceiling like a spider. The few debris and dust that fell barely bothered him.

The tension soon left her, and she clicked her tongue. He had realized it had been nothing more than a bluff. That, as she had thought from the beginning, she didn’t have nearly a strong enough spell prepared to defeat him.

It had worked against her expectations, but for obvious reasons, it wouldn’t be repeated. So what was left for her? To die like Yonah?

She’s not dead!

No matter how close she was to death’s door, her magic could bring her back. But if she crossed the threshold, there would be nothing she could do for her. So that wasn’t possible; she couldn’t be dead!

The monster ripped some chunks from the ceiling and threw them at her. Walls to crush her like an insect. Victoria took a step back, hunched over, shifting her center of gravity.

If she invested even the minimum magical energy needed to form a barrier or move quickly away or whatever, she would lose significant progress, and the possibility of completing the spell would vanish, if it hadn’t already.

So she ran with all her might.

The result was obvious.

Just as she expected, she was hit and buried under the debris. It was like trying to bury her alive. That thought made the waves of panic intensify. Victoria took a deep breath, which didn’t help much, if at all.

How many bones had she broken? The pain, spreading throughout her body, was a good indication, but she could consider herself lucky to be conscious to feel it in the first place. She could easily have died. Well, losing consciousness was the same as dying. That monster wouldn’t let her live long enough to regain it. Even if she did, the spell she had been working on would have slipped through her fingers the moment her mind went dark, so she couldn’t do anything about it.

But she was alive, sufficiently conscious to do something, and she had, she had some time.

Her heart raced in her chest. It hurt more than her wounds.

She could feel death approaching, moving the debris out of the way. She needed a bit more time. And to move the staff, despite her state. If she didn’t aim the spell correctly, everything would go to hell, and what a cruel joke that kind of ending would be. Failing not for lack of time or effort, but for the stupidest reason possible.

She would deserve whatever happened to her if she allowed herself to screw up like that, make such a big mistake, and she wouldn’t have a quick death like Yonah (she’s not dead!), of course not. Because she knew she was a magician and without her staff, she was defenseless. Because he could play with her, delight in her suffering.

He seemed cold. It seemed as if he wouldn’t bother doing something like that under any circumstances, but rather end her life cleanly and practically, one less problem. But still, Victoria was convinced that things would change once he caught her. For no particular reason, she was.

Only there was a reason for everything, wasn’t there?

Maybe it was something similar to the instinct of a predator animal.

Victoria grabbed the staff and lifted it with one hand, turning just in time to see the monster approaching. And that her irrational conviction had hit the mark. Now there was no trace of coldness; his eyes were so wide with excitement that his pupils had shrunk, small as the head of a pin.

Completely focused on her, his prey, even though there was no escape.

The time had come. Her desperate maneuver had provided her the time she needed. It wasn’t exactly what she had intended from the start, but at this distance, a distance where she couldn’t miss, maybe it would be enough.

Victoria pointed her staff at him, magical energy crackling and spewing from its tip, this time no bluff, and...

The monster tore off her leg, crushing and twisting it as if it were made of paper.

She didn’t even feel it.

Those were always the worst injuries, the ones you didn’t feel. It meant you were so messed up that even your sense of pain wasn’t working properly.

In any case, as a result, the magical shot veered off course. As she had said, at this distance, she couldn’t miss, but that wasn’t as good as it sounded. Victoria had aimed at his chest, and thanks to that, the spell deviated toward his neck. Given the state Caim was in now, she believed it had less chance of killing him—strange as it sounded—if the spell damaged his heart than if it decapitated him.

These thoughts passed through her mind clinically as she flew through the air, before landing. Violently, yes. But there was no air in her lungs long before the impact. Tearing off her leg felt like a punch to the chest. It expelled all the air at that moment.

The pain didn’t come even as she watched her right leg floating in a pool of her own blood, with her mouth gaping like a fish out of water.

Yes.

Yes, that’s right.

She shouldn’t be here; that’s why she was running out of air, dying slowly. But there was no way to find her way back home. To the water. How could she do that with her vision so blurry as if...? Well, as if she had her head underwater?

Maybe she would have laughed at that unfunny joke that wasn’t really a joke if she had the air to do so.

She hadn’t decapitated Caim.

He had collapsed, with a large chunk missing from his neck, making horrible choking sounds with his own blood. But she hadn’t decapitated him... She hadn’t defeated him either. How long would it take him to recover from that?

And finish the job?

She barely had any strength left. Damn, now she couldn’t even stand up.

Don't Fight Me, Ignite Me, Part 4: FIN