Ivkarhra observed the knife coming at her with a marked indifference. It registered at only a rudimentary, detached level; a item, no more or less different that the table or the candles, her hand or the floor. It was and no more. The knife was coming at her; the knife would slay her. Part of her understood that fact but for the most it was simply an event that would occur. Her body hung limp, sword barely held in her hand as it dangled down.
She would be no more, and that was a minor irritant, but little beyond that, a mere fact in the march of time.
It would mean the end of the Ra-Armal, as she was the last.
Last and Alone.
The thought drove into her skull, through the fog that rested upon it, clouding all thought or consideration. It jolted her, and her lethargy sloughed away. She had to live, had to go on, for the sake of the Ra-Armal. As long as she lived they would not die. They would not die there, not by the hands of deluded serpentman who sought stolen godhood.
She voiced a defiant roar as the knife came at her, sword surging up. Sword and knife struck, the sound of grinding steel ringing through the air. Shock registered on the face of Zalisfir, and more than shock; cold terror as well. He was not a warrior and her sudden resistance meant no easy victory, no plugging of venomed blade into unresisting flesh. He would have to fight her, blade to blade.
His eyes still bored into her, pouring forth all the dark intent he had, and she still felt its lingering effects, but the convictions of her purpose drove her on and shielded her from the worst of it. His will may have been strong, yet her duty to her people could not be broken, the memory of them driving her unrelenting forward.
Despite the weight on her limbs, she followed after Zalisfir as he backed away, trying once more to put the table between himself and her, but as fast as he moved so did she, despise the protest of heavy limbs. A slash of the sword saw him jumping back to avoid it, he blade carving a shimmering arc through the air.
In desperation, he tucked the crystal under one arm and threw up his other hand again, hissing forth another strident word. Ivkarha felt the power of it wash over her; so strong was the will behind it that candles flickered and the table shuddered. Silence fell over the room momentarily as the ongoing clash between her companions and the other two serpentmen was halted as they were rocked by the strength of the word.
Even she could not help but stagger at it, the power of it shrieking in her mind. Yet cushioned by her duty and devotion, she pushed through it, a low, animalistic growl rising in her throat.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
There was desperation now on Zalisfir’s face, yet as she righted herself and started to advance once more, it changed; a low laugh came from him and triumph blossomed. His eyes betrayed him as they flickered behind her, towards the door.
Ivkhara flung herself aside, spinning as she did, as a knife came down where her back had been but moments before. The third serpentman had arrived, and had slithered up behind her. Only Zalisfir’s reaction had saved her, alerting her to its presence.
The serpentman hissed at her, beginning a slithering encirclement around her, trying to find an opening. Her attention was drawn to it, as the more immediate danger. It had no hesitation in attacking, unlike Zalisifr. A swift stab came at her; her sword met it, turning it aside, riposting as she did. The serpentman coiled aside and her blade thrust through were he had been.
Out of the corner of her eye she caught a flicker of moment, of Zalisifr. With his minions occupying Ivkarha and her companions, he was taking the opportunity to retreat, slithering from the room, with the Soul of Angfaeled with him. They could not let him get away, not with that, for they might never have the opportunity to deal with him afore he unlocked the mysteries of the Soul, to bend its power to his will.
Ivkahra slashed with her sword again, though not a the opponent she was facing. She swept it across the table, cutting a number of candles loose, sending them tumbling through the air at her foe. It recoiled, trying to shield itself as it did. Swift did she move, her sword screaming as it lunged forth. The serpentman, out of positions and distracted, flailed desperately with its knife to try and deflect the blow, but to no avail. Deep drove the sword, crunching through robes and scales, impaling the creature through the chest to the hilt.
It gurgled and hissed, plucking feebly at the hilt of the sword. For a moment it stood before slumping to the floor, dark blood pooling around. Ivkarha kicked its poisoned knife from its hand, sending it clattering across the floor. Setting her boot to the creature’s chest, she hauled free her sword and turned to assist her companions.
Kato was locked in a wrestle with his foe, both having at some point lost their weapons. Sinews strained on the big man as he battle against his writhing foe, trying to keep fangs away, from being bitten. Aedmorn still clashed with his, staff a wooden wall that spun about, beating aside knife thrusts and in turn thrusting, the iron clad butt of his staff delivering heavy blows to the body of the beast.
Quick did Ivkarha dash forward, sword sweeping as she came upon Aedmor’s foe, cleaving asunder the beast’s head. It crumpled under the strike, yet she did not pause even to watch, pushing on.
As she neared the last fight, she saw Kato rear back his head and then slam it into the face of the serpentman, even as he pulled its arm’s wide. A second and a third strike followed, the creature’s face reduced to a bloody mess. He released a grip with one hand, flicking up his fallen sword with his foot and caught it out of the air. A swift slash across the creature’s throat sent a spray of blood pulsing and then. It grasped at its throat, trying to staunch the wound before sinking to the floor, twitching for a moment as the blood spilt across the ground.
Kato was breathing heavily when she reached him, wiping blood from his face. “Where is Zalasfir?” he demanded.
“Gone, and we had best be after him if we are to prevent his plans.”
A weary nod followed. “Lead on, and let us end this.”