Wattyson bonked him with a staff, even Arlene could hear it.

  “Calm down, Rond!” scolded Wattyson. “Now breathe and tell us clearly.”

  “How clearly do you want me to tell?!” snapped Rond yet remained composed. His hands gently rubbing his head. “I…” he sighed and caught his breath. “It’s just weird. I know it’s a celebration yes, but by the clock’s hand it’s already four in the morning.”

  Rond paced back a bit, letting Arlene to stand beside Wattyson. “Everything in me is screaming something’s wrong. Can you and Arlene please just go check it out with me? I won’t charge tonight’s fee.”

  Arlene looked to Wattyson’s for his decision, the ever stoic person. Yet his hand was gripping tightly on the staff. That thing looked about to break.

  Wattyson finally answered. “Alright, come but stay close. You may be big and muscur but we both know you’re a pacifist by heart.”

  “Thanks! Don’t ya worry!” he picked up a small wooden shield he id nearby in the hallway. “I will stay safely behind you all!”

  Wattyson sighed, rexing his shoulders. He turned to Arlene, “Go ready up, we’ll leave in five” he stumbled out zily, escorted by Rond.

  Arlene nodded. She turned and noticed the mound through the hallway window, it was still brightly lit. She felt… strange. She quickly dismissed it and returned back to don her armour and weapon.

  Her breastpte with cape worn, gauntlet strapped, greaves equipped. She buckled her longsword and her leather pouch filled with essential. Arlene raced out downstairs to the quiet tavern to meet the two.

  “I’m ready” procimed Arlene.

  The two nodded and looked to one another, and began stepping out. Wattyson lightly tapping his staff while Rond held out a torch, the light illuminating the quiet and dark street.

  The moon shined brilliantly afar even though it was setting soon in another two hours. The sky was clear, yet there were no stars. They walked down the cobble paths surrounded by sleeping houses, to the gravel with few to the dirt road surrounded by trees seemingly rger and eerily than before.

  Arlene gulped down, her guards raised. Hand on the pommel always. Wattyson seemingly disinterested, or rather his gaze was far in the distance. Rond walked hunched down, ready for anything to spook him.

  Arlene felt wrong here. It was silent. Too much. Were there no animals like owls or any nocturnal creatures lurking about? Even a small rustling noise? Nothing.

  “Ready yourself” alerted Wattyson. “A maid is there to greet us.”

  Arlene looked ahead at the dark gate, only illuminated by a maid with torch. Her expression was that of… panic? What happened?

  “Neciel!” she shouted in a low voice, once she was confident Neciel could hear. She fastened her pace, ahead of the group to her. “Is everything okay? What’s wrong?”

  Neciel seemingly flustered, waving her wrong signalling a no sign. “Everything’s fine, why?” her voice betrayed her. Her body wasn’t still, her smile twitching. Her voice kept being changing between high and low pitch.

  Rond spoke up once the two finally caught up. “Then can you tell us why is the light still on, miss? It’s four in the morning.”

  Neciel quickly moved her hand, scratching the back of her head. “Oh you know” she giggled, sounding like a forced one. “Her family is just lively and rowdy, that’s all. They’re celebrating a miracle after all.”

  Rond sighed a relief, Arlene let her guard down but Wattyson wasn’t buying it.

  “Then why are you out here?” asked Wattyson, his voice so sharp it could cut a living person.

  Neciel rattled a little, her voice high pitched. “I’m just… on guard! To meet people that are concerned for Grandma! You know” she paused, finding airs to her lung. “Since her party still going till this te!”

  Wattyson wasn’t buying it, he kept on the attack and Neciel stayed on the defence.

  Arlene tried to interject, to stop the argument but then her eyes spotted a piece of Neciel’s skirt was covered in a dark hue. A stain soaked and clung onto the fabric, not alike wine or soil. Her breathing caught wind of it and hitched. Blood.

  She quietly murmured to herself, a faint glow covered her briefly. “Neciel” she voiced loudly to interject. She rested her hand on her pommel. “Why is there blood on your skirt?”

  “Blood?” Neciel’s body spasmed as she turned around to check, before turning back still having that trembling smile. “Oh one of the kids fell and hit his nose real, real bad! He grabbed onto me when his hand was full of blood. That’s all!”

  “Can I see it?”

  “Oh no it’s ok! Just a bit of blood.”

  Wattyson whispered to Rond, “Stay back.” Before turning and walking past Neciel. “I’m going in”

  “You can’t! This party is for family only!”

  “I’m family. She considered me as one. You should know” he paused looking over to the house. “She tells you about me all the time. I’m going”

  “No please! Don’t!”

  She kept trying to stop him, jumping in front of him covering his path but Wattyson kept brushing it off.

  “Please! I beg you!” her voice was getting more and more heated. Arlene picked up and began tracing behind them.

  “I said stop!” she shouted, swinging one arm, hitting Wattyson’s side, sending him flying and drifting back to the wall.

  Arlene quickly leaped in front of her. “You okay Watty?”

  Watty id on the ground, staff still firmly in his hand. Must’ve been a strong grip. He was slowly raising back up, helped by Rond. “Yep” he let out a pained but still alive voice. “I’m good.”

  Arlene quickly shifted her attention to Neciel. Yesterday she was a bundle of joys, ever dutiful and professional to tend to her ‘Grandma’. Now? What stood in front of her was a cornered animal, her eyes glowing reds, nails longer and she could see that sharp edges. Her fangs grew enough to be noticeable.

  Neciel threatened them, “I warned you” her voice shrieked. “Now I have to kill you!” she lunged toward Arlene.

  Arlene considered dodging to the side, no her long nails would’ve caught her. She quickly braced for impact. Wielded her sword like a shield, bashing it forward and caught both Neciel’s hands.

  The two stood at one another, contesting in feat of strength and Arlene was losing. Where did Neciel get all this strength from?! Until suddenly, her hands started to burn.

  Neciel leaped back, shoving her hands against the ground to stop the burning sensation. “Holy magic?!” shouted the bewildered beast.

  Her face was even more contorted, filled with rage and helplessness. “I have to protect Grandma!” she muttering to herself in repeat. “I DIDN’T MEAN FOR THAT TO HAPPEN!”

  Holy magic won’t work a second time!” she raged, sprinting toward Arlene but this time, she quickly thrashed her hand into the ground and back out. Dirt and dusts filled Arlene vision in an instant, catching some in her eyes.

  Arlene tried to rely on instinct, sword still up blindly defending herself. She could attack, but she still held out hope that maybe Ne—

  Pain, a sensation filling her entire cheek.

  Arlene fumbled backward before feeling another on her side, then her left thigh and her right shoulder. She grunted in pain each times.

  It was from Neciel relentless attacks and punches, capitalizing on that smokescreen she made. She didn’t get burn from holy magic. She retracted her hands fast enough for it to not register.

  Arlene moaned in pain with every hits. All those hits were from the front, so she gritted her teeth, gripped tightly to her hilt and the top bde, turning the sharp edges toward Neciel and quickly bringing it down to strike. The sharp bde fell swiftly, cleanly connecting with her chest.

  Neciel let out a loud yelp of pain, but it didn’t pause her, not even a quick breath. She quickly swiped Arlene’s legs, causing her to fall down.

  “Ughh—why?” Arlene grunted in pain after her head hit the ground. She questioned, “Why are you doing this? Whatever happened with Grandma, we could help”

  “SHUT UP!” retorted Neciel. “I HAVE TO DO THIS” her tears flowing down her glowing red eyes, pupils resembling a diamond shape almost reptilian looking. “I HAVE TO PROTECT GRANDMA! I HAVE TO COVER FOR HER!”

  She aimed her hand at Arlene’s neck, slowly extending her nails to pierce her.

  Meanwhile at the wall. Rond panicked. “What should I do? How can I help? Or-or should I pray?” spoken the fastest he ever did.

  Wattyson spitted out blood as he finally stood. “Give me your shield!”

  The nails slowly reaching Arlene’s neck.

  “We can work through this together, Neciel!” pled Arlene.

  Neciel was too far gone in her own voice to save grandma, her pointed ears didn’t twitch in response Arlene’s words. Nor did it register the sound of winds spinning around or the sounds of someone sprinting.

  Neciel felt a sharp pain to her left arms, a stubbing one. She gnced to find a shield dropping like a frisbee, constant spun on the ground until she looked up to find nothing but boot.

  The kick aimed from high up to a downward arc, firmly nding in her face sending her to the ground beside Arlene. Following up with another kick sending her back.

  “Rond! Help her up!” ordered Wattyson.

  Rond silently nodded, gulped down his fear and ran to help. His first instinct was to search her porch. “I-I got it!” he croaked as he found the health potion, quickly helping her drink it. “Hang in there, Chosen One!”

  Wattyson now stood between Neciel and the two behind. His staff in right hand, and another hand seemingly burning.

  Neciel snarled, hunched down both hands on the ground. “Anathema…” she groaned to her new foe. “YOU WILL KILL GRANDMA WITHOUT MERCY!” she cried out. “EVEN THOUGH SHE CONSIDERED YOU AS FAMILY!”

  She did the same trick, using dirt and dust as smokescreen to cover her attack.

  Anathema quickly threw out a small burst of fme in front, clearing the fire and revealing Naciel mid jump. He swung the staff then returned to the left, backhanded the foe.

  Neciel put her foot down and turned to strike, only to be met with fire bursting in front of her.

  She cried out in pain, but was still relentless. She ducked, revealing burn marks on her face. She threw out a fist, intending to jab on his rib with full force, breaking him and incapacitating him.

  Her fist went nowhere as he leaned back to dodge, and her arm grabbed by Anathema’s left. The grip got tighter and tighter, the smell of flesh increasing as the arm burned.

  Neciel tried to retaliate, desperately struggling to break free with her free hands, her legs, anything to escape. However, she would find no way to do so. Sharp pain kept going on and on.

  Anathema kept kneeing her again, again, again-.

  Rond watched in horror. “I- “his voice stammered. “I knew him, but never this… never like this.”

  Arlene slowly sat up, before standing fully. Her mind thought to how her holy shield didn’t work, but it quickly getting quieter and quieter the more she whinged at Wattyson. He kept kneeing her again and again. She knew he had been through a lot, but she would never imagine he was this brutal in fighting.

  She wanted to get up and intervene, but every hit froze her in pce.

  This wasn’t the Watty she ate shashukah with, travelled with or joked with. Her thought kept getting drowned in the sound of bones shattered.

  Wattyson eventually let go, by throwing her off to the side. Clear scorched mark on Neciel’s right arm.

  She was gasping for airs, groaning in pain, vomiting out what she ate and her bloods. She could hear small clicking noise growing louder and louder.

  She looked to him, staring into his eyes. All she could see is fiery gaze of a thousand suns. Her voice trembling, “I-I knew about you,” tears flowing out even more from her red gaze. “I was hoping you wouldn’t notice… Now” her voice was defeated. “I’m going to die, and you will kill Grandma… It’s not her fault… I didn’t know it would be like this…”

  Her hands clutched on the dirt below, she could feel no strength left in her legs. She pled with the Anathema. “Please… show her your compassion! She made you coffee and everything! She loved you! Show mercy to Grandma!”

  Anathema didn’t reply at first. He extended his arm into the empty space, pulling out a cymore and gripping the handle with both arms.

  “I will grant you a swift death, and for her… I will show her all of my mercy. What left of it for your kind…” his voice was cold, ruthless and dreadful.

  Neciel sighed in resignation, her body twitched in pain. She didn’t retort. She looked to Arlene then lowered her head down to the ground, a smile was etched from ear to ear.

  “I hope when I go, the heaven can answer my question… Was I ever kind?”

  The bde quickly fell, and two thuds followed.

  Anathema seemingly stabbed the bde straight into the ground. Knelt. Hands still on the handle.

  “This was never easy…”

  Brikson22542