The darkness encroached upon Kael like a noxious fume, the air around the boy pregnant with the smell of body matter. His muscles screamed with agony as the weird elixir performed its twisted magic: healing his wounds at unnatural speed. But it wasn't enough. Not nearly enough. He was sore from the brutal beaating he had taken, but he knew in his mind the fight was not over. That the true nightmare was only getting started.
Footsteps again, deliberate, slow, reverberating off the shattered walls of the ruined city. Kael's hand tightened around his sword, the steel still stained with blood. He could hear them now, the killers drawing near, their whispers like icy drafts against his neck.
"Fucking bastards," he said under his breath.
Selis sprawled, her body folded against the alley wall. Her blood started pooling on the ground. Kael's stomach churned and fell, but he shoved his feelings aside. Now wasn't the time for things to get weak and fall apart. Not now when they had finally almost gotten him to the point where it was all going to come crashing down.
He crept into the alley like a killer. His hood obscured his face, and nothing of the cold, impassive expression was visible. The killer needed not to utter a word; his mere proximity spoke volumes to Kael.
Kael's heart raced in his ears as he flexed his fingers on the sword. Its slick mangle of blood was spreading on his hands as the murderer looked at him. Kael caught but the briefest twinkle of recognition in his eyes before the murderer sprang.
Kael didn't wait. The sword was in motion already, cutting an arc in the air toward the guardsman. The assassin parried the blow with a violent clang, but Kael came behind it, twirling and smashing his knee into the man's gut. This had enough force to stagger the assassin back, but he quickly righted himself, slicing his own blade in deadly arcs.
Their blades met once more, metal shrieking against metal, sparks flying as they battled, a dance of death. Kael's mind was a razor, every movement driven by instinct and rage. He could feel the blood in his mouth, the adrenaline pumping through him like flame.
"You think you can beat me?" I said through gritted teeth.
The assassin grunted and pounced again, knife poised to take Kael's throat. But Kael was faster, twisting aside at the last moment, avoiding the strike, and then bringing the assassin tumbling down onto the stone floor as he swept his legs out from beneath him. The man went down hard, and before Kael could have finished him, another assassin leapt out from the shadows, sword raised.
Kael had scant time to act.
And then it was the blade of the second assassin, drawn back, cleaving the air before it. Kael had only managed to block in time; the bolting force of the blow was a shockwave of pain through him, his arms feeling on fire with trembling heat. It took him a moment to recover his orientation and balance, and as soon as he did, the first assassin bounced back into action and was rushing him again.
Fuck.
Kael found his sword slow in his hands now, his body a traitor. His side ached, red from the gash Darius had given him, blood still leaking from it. His vision was going blurry again, his head swimming with the attempt to focus.
The second assassin thrust again, the blade cutting through Kael's defense, scraping down his arm to leave a grazing wound. There was shooting pain,» Kael said, but he pushed through it. He was just getting started, not even close.
Kael leapt forward with a roar, driving his shoulder into the second assassin's chest and knocking him off-balance. The man stumbled back, and Kael seized the opportunity to plunge his sword into the assassin's gut with brutal efficiency. The man's eyes widened in shock as Kael twisted the knife and then pulled it out, letting him drop in a pool of blood.
"One down," Kael grumbled as he cleaned the blood off his sword.
The first assassin lunged again, but before Kael had barely a moment to lift his sword, the man was on him, their blades striking sickeningly hard against one another. Kael's vision swam with pain, his muscles yowled for release, but he didn't give in. He couldn't. Not now.
A flicker of motion caught Kael's eye: a third assassin, faster and deadlier than the others. His sword became a blur, sailing through the air, heading right towards Kael's throat.
Kael turned at the last moment, the blade brushing his cheek and slicing deep into the flesh. He could feel warm blood running down his face, but he didn't stop. The third assassin he thrust his sword into the ribs so hard the man gasped for wind. The assassin reeled back, but before he could recover, Kael had continued on and into him with a sickening crunch as the blade pierced his chest.
"God fucking damn it," Kael muttered, his voice hoarse, and pulled his sword free. "I'm not dying tonight."
The first assassin remained standing, snarling in frustration. His gaze was frantic, desperate. His control was slipping. Kael could see that now. They all were.
But Kael wasn't finished. He was far from finished.
"You're next," Kael growled, his voice low and lethal.
He made another lunge, but Kael braced herself. He deflected the blow, bending low beneath the assassin's sword and knocking his legs out from under him. The man slammed to the ground with a sickening thud, but Kael didn't wait. He rammed the tip of his sword into the assassin's heart and discharged one last, lethal thrust.
Breathless, Kael loomed above his newly dead bodies, chest racking. There was blood everywhere: on the ground, saturated into the front of his clothes, smeared on his hands. His body shouted at him; his wounds were nearly raw, but it was more than that, the sharp, burning anger that still powered him. It wasn't over. It never was.
But then, he heard it. More footsteps.
Kael's heart dropped. He wasn't getting out of this one. There were too many. They were too quick, too skilled. His head swirled with dizziness, his vision fading to black at the edges. The blood loss was too much.
Then, from the darkness, a voice.
"I have to say, Kael," it said, smooth and cold, "you've made this… interesting."
Kael was jerked from his reverie by the speaker's voice. A figure cloaked in darkness stood in the alleyway, watching him with an amused expression. It was a menacing thickness, an intimidating weight that seemed even thicker than the air, the body of the man in question, a man taller than any man.
The figure's face was obscured, but Kael could see the glint of steel in his hand, a long, sharp blade that shimmered in the moonlight.
"You've murdered my men," the man continued, voice saturated with poison. "And for that, you will pay. Slowly."
Kael's stomach dropped.
"Who the f*ck are you?" he spat, his sword trembling in his hands.
The figure didn't respond. Instead, he stepped forward, every movement displaced for being too smooth, as if he were gliding through a pool of air.
You're not going anywhere, Kael. You're mine now."
Kael's heart beat violently against his ribs as the figure lifted his knife, his eyes burning with unholy hunger.
"You're going to die," the figure hissed, and then everything went black.