The Brightest Shadow, page 87
Slaten kicked at her leg and immediately regretted his decision.
Without retrieving her weapons, Celivia attacked with a brutal assault of her hands and tail. She stabbed out with her hands flattened each time, and though he pushed aside her first attack, her other hand thrust the next instant, her nails cutting through his shirt and the flesh of his arm. Not a deep cut, but she was already attacking again.
As much as the cuts hurt, they weren't deep enough to disable him. Slaten abandoned the idea of trying to compete with her in hand to hand - and tail - combat, just fell back and tried to defend himself as best he could. Celivia didn't relent in her assault in the slightest, scoring more and more hits while he fell back.
At least until his foot reached his sword.
He kicked the blade up while he struck at her. His fist had no chance of reaching her and he took another cut near his elbow, but then he managed to reach out and grab her forearm before she could pull it back. That threw her off long enough for his sword to reach his hand.
Slaten stabbed as best he could with one hand and felt the point sink into her shoulder, though not as deep as he'd wanted. Celivia winced... and then grabbed his sword with her other hand.
Panicking, Slaten pulled back, barely managing to get his sword out of her grip and avoiding another stab from her tail. When he tried to take another step back, one of the slashes from her tail sent a spike of pain up his leg and he fell backward.
Fortunately, Celivia also dropped back into a seated position, holding her wounded shoulder. It didn't seem as disabled as he'd hoped, but at least she needed to be careful with it. For a while they both remained there, catching their breath and nursing their wounds.
Eventually Celivia gave him a brief smile. "You're tough. My claws could tear open most fighters."
"I stabbed you in the shoulder. Did it even take out your arm?"
"Sorry." Celivia rotated her arm in a circle, and though she winced and more blood became visible under her cloak, she obviously had full range of motion. "Mansthein aren't built like humans. Especially not as I am now."
"So I see." Slaten managed to pull himself to his feet, though his arms trembled slightly. He could suppress the pain for now, but he'd lost blood and the cuts would take their toll.
His only current advantage was that Celivia didn't have her weapons, but since she had natural weapons it wasn't much of an advantage. He wished that he had trained in skills that would have let him stop the bleeding of his wounds, but that would have been too much at once. Now that he'd at least injured her some, his only hope was to draw her into a short fight where he could spend everything he had left to take her down.
Celivia moved first, lunging toward him in an aggressive assault designed just to press him back. He saw through it and tried to thrust at her openings. That managed to force her to dodge, so he pushed her back, staying out of the range of her tail and knocking it back every time she lashed out again.
Too late he realized that she was intentionally drawing him forward. She saw his eyes flicker backward to where her weapons lay and attacked even faster than before.
Her feint dropped and she leapt to the side, where she walked two steps along the wall before leaping behind him into a handspring. One that put her hands just beside the handle of her bladed whip. Slaten tried to strike at her while she was in the awkward position, but he was too late: Celivia pushed off the ground with both arms and shot up toward the ceiling with her whip trailing behind her.
Slaten looked up and froze.
Far from just evading him, Celivia had pushed herself all the way to the ceiling. Without apparent difficulty, she reoriented herself to look down toward him, crouching against the ceiling to absorb her momentum. As she did so, she pulled her whip with her, coiling in the air around her like a living thing. For a moment, all he could do was stare upward at her burning eyes and sharp grin on the other side of the coiling whip blades.
Then she pushed off the ceiling and fell upon him with terrifying speed.
Yet somehow, he matched it.
It ran against his instincts, but Slaten found himself slashing upward, throwing more sein into the blow than he had ever intended. Though it felt like something new and burned as it pulsed through his body, it struck true.
His sword hit her whip hard enough to send it flying aside and take her completely off guard. Celivia crashed down into him in what should have been a lethal blow, but instead fell apart in her moment of surprise. He fell onto his back and she landed on top of him.
A moment later her hand stabbed down at his face and he barely jerked his head out of the way in time. Celivia stabbed again, this time at his chest, but he managed to bring his sword up, her fingernails scraping along the edge. Despite the awkward angle, he was able to swing at her enough to make her roll away from him. She went to pick up her weapons while he staggered to his feet, wondering what had happened.
On some instinctual level, he had known that the upward slash had been his only option. No matter where he'd tried to dodge, she could have reoriented herself to jump down at him. A thrust upward would have been the most obvious choice, yet he felt certain that her whip would have knocked his blade aside. He didn't think his attack had any martial genius behind it, he was simply so used to fighting against her that the right skill had emerged naturally.
Before he could think about it too much, Slaten rushed at her. His body threatened to give out with each movement, so he poured as much of his sein into the assault as he possibly could. Celivia fought back just as viciously, an exchange of blows that left both of them with new cuts.
When his vision stopped blurring, Slaten had succeeded in knocking Celivia down against the wall. He was still standing... but he couldn't move.
Slaten smiled bitterly. His strategy to exhaust her pool of available sein had worked and he'd overcome her defenses, but he'd spent himself in the process. Even if his life had depended on it, he didn't have the strength to attack her anymore. Just remaining on his feet took all his willpower. Though he might recover a little sein, it was obvious that she would recover faster and their position would quickly reverse. Celivia responded with an odd little smile, understanding the situation as well.
An anguished scream sounded through the hall. Slaten turned just in time to see a small mansthein sprinting for him, a cleaver flying for his head.
~ ~ ~
What was happening? It had all seemed so clear when everyone had been charging together. Laeri had been so happy to march with them after the Hero.
Then, somehow, it had all fallen apart into this chaos. Why was she even here? Why couldn't she have stayed back and just healed them after the battle was over? Laeri tried not to cry, but trapped in her hiding space in the corner of one room, there was nothing else she could do as she listened to the sounds of battle and death from the floor below.
When a shadow fell into her room, Laeri jumped and nearly screamed. What was that? But it was only Melal, bleeding and triumphant. He extended a hand toward her to help her up and the world tilted aright, everything sliding back to as it should be. How could she have forgotten?
"Thank you, Hero." Laeri took his hand and eagerly got to her feet with his help. Melal shook his head.
"I just happened to see you. Now, let's go. We need to get to the highest level and defeat Aryabaus."
"Oh! Did you see Aryabaus go to the top level?"
"Well..." Melal paused for a moment, staring at her. "That must be where he's hiding! Let's go!"
As they walked, Laeri followed him and did her best to heal his injuries despite their swift pace. How had he been cut in so many places? When he fought, he always seemed utterly invincible to her. Some terrible Deathspawn must have played some sort of trick on him to land such blows, but she did her best to make them heal in the short time they had.
"This way!" Melal pointed his sword down a hallway seemingly at random, but of course Laeri followed him. He certainly did act like he knew where he was going, taking them up staircase after staircase. These were much smaller and wound in spirals, unlike the large staircases from the main chamber. Did that mean they were getting close to the top?
These staircases must have been a path for servants. Had Melal come up with that idea in order to avoid the fighting and defeat Aryabaus directly? How clever! Laeri followed him happily, glad that she could do a little to help him on the way to their victory.
Then, once he defeated Aryabaus... well, the others would be alright, wouldn't they? Laeri frowned a little as she thought about it, wondering if it would be okay. The soldiers who had fallen in the courtyard wouldn't make it, even if she could start healing them now.
But as they came out onto a floor with ornate furnishings, Melal turned back to smile at her and hope filled her heart again. Of course the Hero could take them through this battle safely! When she looked past him through an open window, Laeri was shocked to see how far below the ground was. Had they come so high already? She had been too absorbed in healing his injuries.
"We're almost there. Stick close to me."
She nodded eagerly and followed him. The top floor of the tower wasn't large and they soon came out in a hallway even more ornate than before. It led up to a huge set of double doors... but there were Deathspawn standing in the way. They'd had guards in reserve? Laeri felt a surge of despair until Melal marched forward.
"You cannot stand in my way, Deathspawn! I will end the life of Aryabaus today!"
The Deathspawn responded with feral snarls and surged toward him, drawing their crude weapons. Yet Melal moved forward, his sword shimmering around him in dazzling arcs. A small part of Laeri saw the injuries inflicted upon their bodies and analyzed fatal or permanently disabling wounds. Yet it was overwhelmed by the beauty of his movements.
Like a wonderful, glorious dance...
That dance left the Deathspawn dead and dying on the thick carpet. Melal turned back to her, untouched, and smiled again, so of course Laeri ran to him. But he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.
"Laeri, I am going to fight the worst of these Deathspawn now, and I need to fight him alone. If you try to help, you'll just get in the way."
"I... I understand, Hero."
"But I need you to help me in another way. You have to hold this door." Melal pointed toward the double doors and then stomped one foot on the ground. "More Deathspawn might come, but you have to stop them right here. There's no one else, so I need to trust you with this. Can I trust you, Laeri?"
"Of course!" It was everything she had hoped, her life finally taking part in the grand stories she'd always dreamed of. She hastened to stand to the side of the doors and waited, though she couldn't resist looking through as Melal shoved the doors open with a loud creak.
"Aryabaus!"
His call rang in the chamber, the majority of it an empty space that formed the top spike of the tower. It contained only a little furniture, most notably a large throne. Aryabaus sat in it, eyes burning murderously. When he saw Melal, he scowled and got to his feet. "So I finally get to see you for myself. You don't look like much."
"Prepare to die, Deathspawn!"
Melal charged, his sword shimmering around him. By contrast, Aryabaus barely seemed to move, slowly reaching for the hilt of his sword behind his back.
Yet somehow a moment later he swung his sword overhead. Though he only brought it down to waist level, forcing Melal to dodge back, air slammed down beneath his sword with such strength that dust flew in all directions.
Laeri's eyes opened wide as she realized that something was wrong. Aryabaus was no mere mudman, he had command of a wide range of sein. Though his sword was overly long, it was thin, designed for careful strikes. Why wouldn't the leader of the Deathspawn be a savage brute? It didn't make sense for him to use that elegant weapon, or for his sein to flow in such complex patterns.
"Hero, be carefu-"
"Silence!" Melal waved a hand at her without looking, focused fully on Aryabaus.
Yet that wasn't enough to stop the Deathspawn, who took a step forward and swung his blade horizontally. Though Melal raised his sword and easily blocked it, the force of the swing made him grunt and take a step backward.
Fast as a snake, Aryabaus lashed out again, his sword cutting the side of Melal's leg. He gave a cry and nearly dropped, barely managing to stay on his feet.
Another blow was already coming. Melal managed to get his sword into position, yet the force of the blow sent him flying backward - directly toward her!
Laeri let out a cry and fell back. Melal's body slammed into the partially opened doors a second later, slamming them closed in her face. For a time, all she could do was sit there, clutching her staff and staring at the closed door.
From the other side, she could hear cries of battle and grunts of pain. Laeri started to raise her hand toward the door, wanting to help, but she remembered what he'd said. Would the Hero really be okay? Aryabaus seemed too powerful, could anyone beat him? Should she really just stay out here and wait?
Just when the questions threatened to overwhelm her, Laeri heard someone else in the hallway. She gasped and whirled, seeing a Deathspawn with a short sword approaching. His eyes moved over the bodies on the ground cautiously and he kept his sword ready as he finally looked at her.
"You're a healer, right, human?" His voice was gruff and Laeri winced away from him. "If you surrender, you won't be harmed in any way. I won't even tie you. Just step aside and let me help Aryabaus win this."
"Umm... I... please..." Laeri slammed her staff down against the floor. "No! The Hero told me that I have to guard this door!"
"Come on, human. I saw that idiot fight outside. He may be strong, but do you really think he can beat Koreinan Aryabaus?"
Laeri shivered as she realized that this Deathspawn was at least a little dangerous. What was even the point of trying to resist him? She lowered her head and began shuffling to the side before stopping herself. "No! I believe in the Hero!"
"Suit yourself." The Deathspawn lunged forward and suddenly there was pain shooting through her shoulder.
Laeri dropped to the floor, screaming in agony. All she could do was stare in horror at the gaping wound on her shoulder. Blood was pouring out of it, would she die soon? She already felt a little lightheaded and knew from her studies what would happen next.
As she bled out, the pain would ease and the world would feel more numb. It might almost be like going to sleep. There was no point trying to fight him, was there? He was stronger than her, just like everyone was stronger than a mere healer. Laeri closed her eyes and whimpered to herself.
And yet...
Her uninjured arm rose to her shoulder. What was she doing? She knew she could heal herself, but her sein wouldn't come together. What did she need to focus the technique? Laeri felt a surge of bitterness that shocked her in its depth and she thrust it away. No, anything but that!
Instead she filled herself with memories of the Hero's light. How he looked when he smiled at her. The task he had entrusted to her. How could she have forgotten? She was there to stop Deathspawn from entering the door and interrupting his fight. She couldn't sit down and die here.
Laeri began flooding sein into her wound, forcing the flesh to knit and biting her lip against the pain. She knew healing this quickly would cause problems in the future, but maybe that was what she deserved. After doing the same to so many others, the least she could do was heal herself.
How long had it been? It felt like an age, yet as Laeri grabbed her staff and struggled to rise to her feet, she saw that the Deathspawn had not yet reached the doors. She let go of her shoulder, ignored the pain in it, and raised the staff over her head.
Her first blow came down on the back of his head and to her surprise, the Deathspawn dropped. Laeri started for only a moment before she began hitting him more, bringing her staff down over and over. Soon she couldn't recognize his face and had to look away from the horrible sight, but she kept striking.
This was her part of the battle, after all. She needed to do this much or she wouldn't be worthy to stand alongside the Hero.
When it was over she leaned heavily on her staff, panting for breath. That was the first thing she had ever killed for herself, at least intentionally. She didn't even like to kill bugs, how had she left this corpse on the carpet in front of her?
She heard someone moving in the corridor and looked to see another Deathspawn approaching. This one barely looked at the bodies and didn't notice the blood covering the end of her staff, just advanced on her.
Laeri threw her questions aside and turned to face him.
~ ~ ~
Without thinking about it, Celivia lurched to her feet and grabbed Reina's wrist before her cleaver could strike Slaten's head.
They both stared at her, Slaten in surprise and Reina in confusion. Fortunately, Reina's eyes were still clear, so there was no immediate danger. Yet her friend stared at her with something like betrayal. "Celi... are you sure?"
She looked back at Slaten and sighed. At the end, she had actually been enjoying herself. It was rare that she could throw herself into combat so completely. Obviously he had as well, given how he'd exhausted himself at the end. Because Reina was watching her closely, Celivia kept her face neutral.
"I'm sure, Reina. Don't kill him."
Celivia let go of the shorter woman's wrist. Stepping back with an aggrieved expression, Reina stabbed her cleaver in Slaten's direction. "I'm only leaving you alive because Celivia asked me, human."
Slaten nodded slowly. "Thank you."
That slowed Reina's rage and for a moment there was only silence. Then Slaten's sword clattered to the ground and he collapsed backward against the wall. Celivia felt herself sinking back to the ground as well, feeling the impact of that last wound. She lay against the opposite wall and took several deep breaths, just recovering. Eventually Slaten spoke, face grimly focused on the combat.
"How much were you holding back?"
