Ruvāh, The podium of Gods, Year 203
Ayvah's POV:
The moment I side stepped his slimy hands, all hell broke lose. He snarled at me, the claws in his hands extending while he tried to hook them through my flesh.
The only flaw in his plan was the fact that he was too slow.
I ducked from under his arms and turned towards the other assailant who tried attacking me from behind.
Typical of them to play dirty.
I hooked him on his nose, all the while sending tendrils of my consciousness trailing throughout the room until I found the one I was looking for. Yanking on the leash which I had formed, I managed to pull him to the forefront of the group, making it feel to him as if he was goaded here by the fighting going on.
Turning towards the male who called himself their leader, I faced him in their sacred arena just as the clouds parted to allow the light of the moon to bathe me.
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Bridlebur, Artamia, Year 13
Cohen's POV:
Cressida had returned blabbering about humans forgetting their limits, yet the wicked smile on her lips told me enough. Despite me warning her against informing Ayvah about the probability of war between the two clans, she had gone and done exactly that.
I mean it was Cressida after all, what else could I expect from her.
Five hours had passed since Cressida had returned, but there was no news of Ayvah. I know that she is not bound to tell us about her whereabouts but after what happened all those years ago, it was almost as if it was an unspoken agreement amongst us to atleast let each other know if something unusual had occurred.
Each tick of the clock was agonizing until I felt the pull. Mere seconds later Cressida rushed out of her room, her eyes bright with bloodlust as she felt the tug as well.
Blood thrumming with anticipation, we looked at each other before zenoing off to answer the summons.
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Ruvāh, The podium of Gods, Year 203
Ayvah's POV
The clang of the carillon echoed throughout the sanctorum, its booming din shaking the very core of the sacred grounds as a loud bellowing was heard, from the crowd which had gathered in mere seconds.
The tang of unwashed bodies hung heavy in the air. The podium was abuzz with excitement and anticipation, as their leader, Khofet stepped onto the dias.
Bowing before the idol of the dark Gods, he strode towards me, not bothering to make the blood sacrifice, as was custom, for his protection.
The lack of the ritual was meant as means to ridicule me, but it only made killing him so much easier. After all I didn't want the taint of the dark magic seeping into my pores.
The moment he entered the boundaries of the arena, a cheer rippled through the crowd, the silence in its wake stifling. I waited, impassive as he took his own sweet time, stalking towards me. The slight twitch of his right knee was the only warning before he sprung at me.
Feinting left I struck him on his shoulder before sweeping his feet from underneath.
The moment he lost his bearings, I turned towards one of the sentries, disarming him in seconds before taking hold of his twin swords. Tossing one of them to Khofet, I took my stance, my indication clear.
I sensed his presence, rather than saw him as he reached the front of the crowd. I could, however, not dwell ocxn it for long for I had other matters at hand. For instance I had the blood thirsty opponent of mine trying to kill me.
I felt the adrenaline rush through me, as I felt the familiar weight of a broad sword in my hand. Swinging it experimentally to gauge it's balance, I ducked just in time to avoid getting slashed by the dagger thrown my way.
"Tsk, tsk, it seems you missed your mark yet again. Come on try harder. It's almost disappointing to think that I am dueling against one of the best fighters and he can't seem to even aim right!"
My words did their work as he came at me at a furious speed. The clang of swords echoed throughout as sparks flashed when our swords met.
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Cohen's POV:
I watched fascinated as sparks flew wherever their swords met, their motions becoming a blur as a deep hush descended the vault, not even a whisper of sound was heard other than the din of the swords.
"She didn't get rusty, now did she...." Cressida muttered with a small chuckle. "To think that she could end this with a thought, she is playing with him and he isn't even the one she wants, the sham- Oh how entertaining!"
I was about to state my agreement with her when I saw the sentries creeping towards her. I wanted to shout out a warning to her but the cloaking orders wouldn't let me utter a single word. I contemplated trying to break them yet I knew it was Ayvah who cast them, and there was no way I could get around a spell cast by her.
Cressida however had no qualms about whatever was happening, her expressions clearly expressed excitement and anticipation for the blood bath about to happen.
The disregard of the sanctity of the arena was a sin and a sacrilege such as this couldn't go unpunished.
It seemed whatever little morals they had left were buried in the pages of history as the offenders were given free reign to do as they pleased.
I watched her fight, a whirlwind of shadows and smokes, they had no chance against her as they fell one by one as stalks of wheat against a sickle.
It seemed as if she was done playing, for when the last of the sentries fell she turned towards the male who had ordered the sacrilege, beheading him in a single sweep.
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Ayvah's POV:
The scent of death lay heavy in the air as I turned towards the assembled crowd, spectators to the fact that the change had arrived yet unaware that they were watching a new page of history unfold in front of their eyes.
The decapitated head of their leader lay strewn across the floor, the sword in my head dripping blood onto the floor, as I let my glamour fall, my face morphing into its true form, the gentle arch of my ear poking through my braids.
I let them catch a tantalizing bit of my features before cloaking myself in shadows. Without a word, I strode towards the exit, my Cape bellowing in my wake as I heard two foot steps join mine.
Before leaving the boundary of the podium, I let my sword wet with blood swish through the air, zipping past the male and landing at the foot of the idols of the dark Gods. A warning and an indication, the ancient ways reinstated; I watched, unfaltering, my face a stony mask even under the hood, as one by all fell to their knees. All except one.
I turned away once more, leaving them kneeling as the clouds once again hooded the moon, plunging the room in darkness.
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His POV:
I felt an incessant pull towards where the fighting was going on, and u couldn't be more glad for trusting in it.
The way she held herself while the moonlight fell on her was a clear enough indication that she knew what it meant. Her grace and power was palpable even now when she goaded Khofet into fighting her, driving him reckless with rage. Although she was clearly better than him, it was apparent that she was holding back, a predator playing with its victim.
No glamour could contain the glint of euphoria in her eyes, for the moment she entered the podium I was sure that she was no common assassin.
I watched as his sentries entered the arena, breaking the sacred laws formed eons ago, in a time when the gods still walked amongst us.
Yet I couldn't be more bothered for they were carrion the moment they crossed the boundaries, as they fell one after the other against her blades, a punishment befitting the sacrilege that they had committed.
Having tired of the game of cat and mouse, I watched as she turned towards Khofet and beheaded him in a single sweep. She turned to face the gathered crowd as she allowed her glamour to melt. I caught but a glimpse of her features before she cloaked herself in shadows.
She walked away as two others flanked her, seemingly melting out if the shadows to join her. Before leaving, she sent her blades flying as it swished past me and landed at the feet of the idols.
I watched as they fell to their knees one after the other yet it seemed as if I had frozen in time, not able to move an inch.
As she zenoed away, the podium was once more plunged in darkness as the clouds covered the moon.
I had to inform my queen about the truth. With this aim in my mind, I left the podium, unleashing my wings and flying towards my destination.
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What he failed to notice was the smirk that graced the lips of a figure clad in shadows as everything that she had planned for fell in place.
......................
A/N:
The sacred law of the dark Gods stated that once someone enters the sacred arena, they are oath bound to fight fair, the failure to do so would result in death.
Carillon is another term for a gong .
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