Chapter 36: Dwindling Strength

Note: Thanks to WRC 264 for beta reading this!

Keythivak

I savored the weakness of my enemy as I attacked. My chain swung through the air, slashing and thrusting at him. It was such a versatile weapon, hard to deal with. Sven had talent. He had trained to fight, to use his natural grace and dexterity to his advantage. But the poison slowed him down more and more. I just had to wear him down.

And kill him.

His flushed face glistened with sweat. Rivulets poured down his neck to his leather jerkin. He swung his short sword before him, knocking back my chain. Each time, I redirected the swing, attacking him from a new direction, weakening him more and more.

His left hand moved down. He did it slowly, turning his body, almost hiding what he was doing as he went for a throwing knife on his bandoleer slung over his chest. I didn’t betray my knowledge. I kept fighting the same, letting the fool think he could full me with the same trick twice.

The knife flicked out.

I battered it out of the sky with my sickle as he charged in behind it. I didn’t flinch in shock like last time. I could see it in his blue eyes as he thrust his blade that he knew his ruse had failed. My chain lashed out for his feet.

He tried to jump.

Instead, he tripped himself. His legs, weighted down by exhaustion, didn’t move as spry as before. The chain caught him as he struggled to hold his balance. It smacked into his calves. He cried out as it swept his feet out from beneath him.

Sven crashed hard onto his side.

“Did you think the same trick would work twice?” I asked, advancing, savoring this moment. I would disable him then start killing the women. All but the princess. My Mistress would love to play with her royal beauty. “Huh?”

“Maybe...” Sven panted while rolling onto his back. “Getting tripped ... was part of ... my plan.”

“I like you,” I said, tightening my grip on my sickle. “Cocky and brash to the end.”

Princess Ava

The lamia crashed into me. I gasped as she smashed the pointed end of her stone into my face. I shuddered, feeling the proxy shivering beneath the impact. Her attack hit with force, and alabaster wasn’t the strongest of stone.

What made it easy to shape into pleasing forms also proved its undoing here. I grabbed her waist, struggling to push her off, but her legs squeezed about my torso. She raised her weapon up again and slammed it down.

A chip of white spun through the air; a piece of my face.

I gasped, feeling the proxy crumbling as she slammed her stone in for a third time. Cracks ran through the delicate material. My soul struggled inside of the vessel. I had to stop her. I shot my hands up to grab her wrist.

She dodged and struck my head from the side.

My proxy’s head shattered. I had a brief glimpse of white stone flying away from me, chucks that held the carved features of my face. Then my soul flung out in a shock of pain, shooting back to my body and...

I didn’t slam into my body. I found something else. Something that felt so empty, just aching to be filled. A proxy that wasn’t a proxy. It had never been inhabited by me. I had never formed a bond with it, and yet ... Yet it felt so familiar. It begged for something to animate it. It had been constructed to be possessed.

So I possessed it.

Sven Falk

I gripped my sword. This wouldn’t work. His reflexes were still sharp, unlike mine,, but what choice did I have? His sickle swung down to rip out my throat.

I thrust my short sword before me. Not to parry it, but to throw it. I let go, the point knifing right for his chest, a missile he couldn’t ignore. The assassin’s face twisted in surprise. He hadn’t expected it. His attack changed.

His sickle knocked the sword from the air, bouncing it to the ground.

I drew a dagger as I gained my feet, growling with the last of my will. I had to close the distance to him. I sprang at him. The world spun around me. Only the assassin remained clear to my sight, standing tall and deadly, the chain whipping around him.

I threw myself at him.

The chain struck my side.

I grunted, missing with my attack. My shoulder hit him in the stomach before I bounced off of him. He stumbled back as I landed hard on the ground. I groaned, rolling, the world tumbling into a blurring mess. My stomach rebelled. My limbs shook.

“Part of your plan, eh?” the assassin asked. Then he laughed, stalking up to me. “Oh, yes, daring. You don’t give up.”

“Only ... when I’m ... dead.”