Page 79 of The Blade in the Ashes
“Already ahead of you,” he interrupted, flames dancing between his fingertips.
As the monsters grew closer, their speed steadily increasing, I sent my magic out towards them and frowned. There was nothing to be found. No emotions to slow or calm. No way to ease them into a slumber. My powers were useless against this foe.
This was to be a battle of strength.
There was the tiniest flicker ofreliefin my gut, a gratefulness for the fact that I wouldn’t be forced to use the powers that haunted my every waking moment. I shut down all the pathways that kept my consciousness connected to the people around me. There was no need to keep thosechannels open during this fight and that felt like a blessing in disguise. I cursed myself for feeling it for even the briefest of moments.
The creatures gained on Rankor, somehow finding the motivation to surge forward now that prey was in their sight.
With a determined grunt, Rankor pushed himself onwards. His eyes focused on the single oak tree that stood between us and them. With a characteristic battle cry, he pushed downwards before jumping into the air towards that tree. Two hands wrapped around the trunk as he swung his hips around, using his momentum and the strength of his Godly ancestor, to rip the roots clean out of the ground.
Swinging it like a battering ram, he slammed through the first line of the undead.
Still, they continued on.
Each was more abysmal to look at than the last, with decaying skin, oozing sores, and hollowed eyes.
Is that what my mother looks like now?
The thought struck through me like a thunderbolt and I shoved it away, focusing instead on the task at hand.
The smell of rot was all around, stinging my nose as I flexed and released my fingers around the hilt of my sword.
“Michone,” I called back to her, my voice deep with authority. “Guard those children with your life.
“I’m not a child,” Elaijah grumbled weakly.
I barely heard him though. I had already moved on, throwing myself into the fray and swinging my sword left and right with practiced precision. I cut through torn bits of flesh and mangled bodies easily, groaning when they still continued on despite what would have been deadly injuries in any other creatures.
“Through the head!” Rankor reminded me, as he slammed a fist clean through the skull of the beast in front of me.
“Well aware!”
If these creatures had once had blood, it had long since dried out, and so what splattered across my skin as I drove my blade between two eyes was something entirely more acrid and stomach-twisting.
The sounds of the fight became a symphony. Steel meeting bone. Grunts. Hisses of pain. It all formed a melodic rhythm that echoed around us. It was a show, a dance even, one that I had long ago gotten familiar with.
For the first time in days, I actually felt a semblance of peace as I lost myself to it. Locked in battle, I could forget the pain and grief that was eating me alive. I could focus on the here and now without being consistently bombarded by the force of my sisters’ emotions.
There was only the rush of a kill and the anticipation of the next blow.
Everything around me seemed to fade from existence until there was only the swing of my sword and the next maneuver that had to be planned. The sounds of the twins crying just… disappeared. The ache in my chest lessened. I didn't even blink when flame ripped past my skin, so close to leave me flushed.
The battle was hypnotizing—a seductive trance I was all too willing to surrender to. There’s no grief in battle. No pain. Not even fear, not really. There’s no time to fear when you’re living second to second.
Dodge.
Slice.
Stab.
Feign.
My perception narrowed only to what was right in front of me, as if I was no longer an active agent in this realm. I was only a body, being moved in and out of place.
There was peace in that detachment.
“Get back!” Rankor yelled, grasping onto my forearm and ripping me aside as an explosion tore through the horde of monsters.
