5 to go
Chocolate #14. Vengeance
Rating : R (for violence)
Timeframe : fall 1260 (just after decision)
It's a little over the top, but I'm just in that sort of mood, I guess.
Lyssa pressed her heels to her horse’s side, urging the weary beast forward at a pace she doubted it could handle for long. She kept her eyes on the streak of blue ahead that seemed to grow ever more distant. Her sword rose and fell, batting aside the smaller demons that threw themselves in her path, leaving tangled bodies in her wake.
Ski’s cloak whipped around her, a spot of brilliant color in the field of mud and blood and dusty bones. Her sword caught the moonlight as it tore through the air, each blow decimating another demon that had found its way to her. From her lips issued challenges, paired with vows to do unspeakable things to whomever might take them up, all with such color that, under different circumstances, Lyssa might have been downright proud. As it was, each word that carried her way in tact gave her chills. It certainly was a most impressive diversion. She wondered if Ski’s voice could be heard all the way to the fort and what they might have to face if it did.
The blue beacon grew larger, the curses more distinct, and soon Lyssa found herself in the midst of the fray that had stalled her sister. Bones and demon flesh flew through the air and littered the ground as Ski’s blade whipped through the throng. Lyssa did her best to help, slicing at anything that still stood, while dodging the bodies her sister hurled about.
Panting and sweating, Ski barked another epithet at the nearest beast before cleaving off its head. Lyssa chewed her lip as she watched what she had to remind herself was her sister and swatted two more out of her own way. A figure lumbered into view, the head of a roc teetering on an amalgam of the bodies of things Lyssa had yet to see in their natural state.
Ski turned to face the thing, hefting her sword overhead. The blade wavered and shifted its form, flattening and widening before snapping back into its usual, slender form only to repeat the process, its wielder rapidly losing the strength to keep her own magic in check. The demon swung a boney hand at Ski. Her horse danced to the side, though not nearly fast enough, and a claw flicked across her shoulder, adding another bloody rent to the numerous other small wounds she already bore.
The sword came down on the massive skull, rending bone like butter, until it fell away in two neat pieces, revealing the luminous ball that was the enchantment’s core. The blade struck the light, sending sparks down its length. Ski let out a scream as they laced around her hands before the whole thing flickered and died. The towering mass of bones toppled before her while she held her the sword, which seemed finally to have quieted, with shaking hands and gasped for breath.
“Ski!” called Lyssa, cutting down one of the small demons that stood between them.
“Enough,” said Ski, carving another in half without looking. “Enough demons! I want blood.”
“Ski,” she said, closing what little distance remained. “We‘ve done more than enough. The others should be far away by now. We could go find them.”
“Not yet. Not until I have made them bleed.”
Still felling demons with the other, Lyssa put a hand out to her sister. “Ski. You’re scaring me.”
Ski fixed her with a lifeless stare, though her eyes were rimmed with red and the trails from passing tears still shone on her cheeks. Her hair and cloak stained with her own blood and riddled with the pale dust of demon bones and flesh. She continued to swing her blade, seemingly without conscious thought, none of the monsters that approached her lasting long. “He’s dead, Lyss.” Her voice lost all its force. “Dead.”
“I know.”
“I am not going back until I rip the heart out of every last-”
“Ski, please.” Her hand closed over her arm. “They’ll kill you.”
“Good,” she said, pulling away.
Lyssa tightened her hold. “You don’t mean that. You know you don’t mean that.”
“But-”
“Tristan wouldn’t want you to.”
Ski closed her eyes and sighed. A demon in the form of a wolf snapped at her foot. She landed a kick square againt its jaw before taking off its head. “Alright then. For Tristan,” she said. “And for you.”
Purely out of relief, Lyssa found herself smiling as she let her go. “Enough demons, then. Let’s get back to our friends.”
Rating : R (for violence)
Timeframe : fall 1260 (just after decision)
It's a little over the top, but I'm just in that sort of mood, I guess.
Lyssa pressed her heels to her horse’s side, urging the weary beast forward at a pace she doubted it could handle for long. She kept her eyes on the streak of blue ahead that seemed to grow ever more distant. Her sword rose and fell, batting aside the smaller demons that threw themselves in her path, leaving tangled bodies in her wake.
Ski’s cloak whipped around her, a spot of brilliant color in the field of mud and blood and dusty bones. Her sword caught the moonlight as it tore through the air, each blow decimating another demon that had found its way to her. From her lips issued challenges, paired with vows to do unspeakable things to whomever might take them up, all with such color that, under different circumstances, Lyssa might have been downright proud. As it was, each word that carried her way in tact gave her chills. It certainly was a most impressive diversion. She wondered if Ski’s voice could be heard all the way to the fort and what they might have to face if it did.
The blue beacon grew larger, the curses more distinct, and soon Lyssa found herself in the midst of the fray that had stalled her sister. Bones and demon flesh flew through the air and littered the ground as Ski’s blade whipped through the throng. Lyssa did her best to help, slicing at anything that still stood, while dodging the bodies her sister hurled about.
Panting and sweating, Ski barked another epithet at the nearest beast before cleaving off its head. Lyssa chewed her lip as she watched what she had to remind herself was her sister and swatted two more out of her own way. A figure lumbered into view, the head of a roc teetering on an amalgam of the bodies of things Lyssa had yet to see in their natural state.
Ski turned to face the thing, hefting her sword overhead. The blade wavered and shifted its form, flattening and widening before snapping back into its usual, slender form only to repeat the process, its wielder rapidly losing the strength to keep her own magic in check. The demon swung a boney hand at Ski. Her horse danced to the side, though not nearly fast enough, and a claw flicked across her shoulder, adding another bloody rent to the numerous other small wounds she already bore.
The sword came down on the massive skull, rending bone like butter, until it fell away in two neat pieces, revealing the luminous ball that was the enchantment’s core. The blade struck the light, sending sparks down its length. Ski let out a scream as they laced around her hands before the whole thing flickered and died. The towering mass of bones toppled before her while she held her the sword, which seemed finally to have quieted, with shaking hands and gasped for breath.
“Ski!” called Lyssa, cutting down one of the small demons that stood between them.
“Enough,” said Ski, carving another in half without looking. “Enough demons! I want blood.”
“Ski,” she said, closing what little distance remained. “We‘ve done more than enough. The others should be far away by now. We could go find them.”
“Not yet. Not until I have made them bleed.”
Still felling demons with the other, Lyssa put a hand out to her sister. “Ski. You’re scaring me.”
Ski fixed her with a lifeless stare, though her eyes were rimmed with red and the trails from passing tears still shone on her cheeks. Her hair and cloak stained with her own blood and riddled with the pale dust of demon bones and flesh. She continued to swing her blade, seemingly without conscious thought, none of the monsters that approached her lasting long. “He’s dead, Lyss.” Her voice lost all its force. “Dead.”
“I know.”
“I am not going back until I rip the heart out of every last-”
“Ski, please.” Her hand closed over her arm. “They’ll kill you.”
“Good,” she said, pulling away.
Lyssa tightened her hold. “You don’t mean that. You know you don’t mean that.”
“But-”
“Tristan wouldn’t want you to.”
Ski closed her eyes and sighed. A demon in the form of a wolf snapped at her foot. She landed a kick square againt its jaw before taking off its head. “Alright then. For Tristan,” she said. “And for you.”
Purely out of relief, Lyssa found herself smiling as she let her go. “Enough demons, then. Let’s get back to our friends.”