Straight Through The Heart ((ON HOLD))

Chapter Five

At first, she thought her parents were having a late-night sparring match.

However the longer Alisa listened it wasn't wood against wood, but steel against steel mingling with the occasional yell or groan. And when she finally got out of bed to look out her window, the sparring ring was dark and unused.

Booted footsteps clambered out in the hall, and the door to her bedroom flung open without permission or request.

"Alisa, get in your brother's room. Now," her father ordered, and Alisa knew the tone well enough to obey.

"What's happening?" she asked as she followed, pulling on a pair of leggings as they moved down the hall to where Chey stood outside of her brother's room with an equally confused Bren lingering in the doorway.

"Questions later," her father insisted, leading her into the room. "This door remains shut until we open it, do you understand?"

"Where's Mother?" Bren asked, his voice cracking with emotion.

"She's fine," Chey said, and Alisa wanted to believe him.

Her father only nodded in agreement before closing the door tight, and she heard their two sets of feet stomping down the stairs towards the front door of the house.

Glancing at her brother, he appeared to have the same idea, and both rushed towards his bedroom window, which had a better view of the front of the estate.

The front law was aglow with torchlight, and at first, Alisa thought they had visitors, that a group perhaps from Northwich had traveled in the evening for one reason or another. Upon closer inspection, however, she quickly discovered they weren't human visitors at all.

Standing in a broken semicircle were at least ten demons, their harsh features shadowed in the torchlight. Three similar bodies were already strewn across the feet of her mother, who was standing before them in her fighting leathers with a blade in her hand. She watched as her father joined Azima on the lawn, remaining a step behind while the Venandi confronted those who dared encroach upon her private property.

"The time has come, Azima Rousseau. You are required to finish that which you have started."

"Not one step closer." Her mother raised her sword to emphasize her point. In the dim light, Alisa could see the dark, dripping blood on its edge.

"You left the Seventh Level without its Prince. A price has been paid. A debt is owed."

"I owe you nothing," her mother hissed. "Not you. Not anyone beyond that damn Rift."

"You need to finish what he started."

"And you need to go back to Hell."

With a scream, her mother charged into the horde with her father on her heels. Alisa held her breath as she watched the two of them fight not alongside each other, but together. Like they were partners in a dance of death, and the attacking demons dared interrupt their interlude.

Chey, too, had joined the fray, as if he was waiting on the outskirts to allow Azima the time to deal with them as she needed to, but the moment her blade was raised it was a free-for-all. Though older, Alisa never denied Chey could hold his own. She had watched him spar enough with her mother to know he was more than adept with a sword.

"We have to help them," Alisa whispered to her brother, though her attention remained focused out the window.

"There's nothing we can do!" Her brother's voice was panicked. "Father told us to stay here—"

A sudden searing pain slashed across Alisa's right shoulder, the agony bringing tears to her eyes as blood started pouring from a deep, sourceless wound.