Wielder

Chapter 9 - Ultimate Wielder

Alie's confidence shattered with six simple words. 

   "You're going to fight that thing?"

   She paused. Michael's eyes had widened in horror. His mouth hung open in shock and disbelief, as if he couldn't figure out how to simultaneously insult her and chastise her. 

   She forced herself to stand tall. She squared her shoulders and looked him straight in the eye, hoping she looked more sure of herself than she felt. "I'm going to destroy it," she said, her voice only slightly wavering. 

   He didn't respond. His dark eyes, always so kind and caring, flooded with emotion. There was fear in them, yes, but also trust. He wanted to believe that she could do it. She clung to that bit of hope in him like a lifeline, craving his approval. 

   She tried to smile. "Cover me?" she asked. 

   He let out a long, burdened exhale, but drew his pistol from his pocket. "I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

   "You both are crazy," Darrel chided, stepping back. 

   Michael shrugged. "Does that mean you're not going to join us?"

   Scowling, Darrel shoved the crystal into his pocket and drew his swords. "Sure, why not? We're dead, anyway."

   The monster's challenging roar made her cringe. It ground its massive paws into the ground, pulling up chunks of earth. Acidic spittle rained down on them; Alie lifted her arm and imagined a shield against it. With a mighty snap of its jaws, the Evil bit at the shield, crunching magic between its teeth as easily as candy. 

   "I hope you have a plan!" Darrel cried. He ducked out from the protection of the now crumbling shield, racing off on his own toward one of the beast's giant paws. 

   There was no hesitation in Michael's aim. He lifted his pistol high, blasting off several plasma rounds at the beast's large red eyes. "Go," he instructed firmly. 

   Alie took off after Darrel as her fist tightened around the Ultimate. Though she hadn't even started fighting yet, her heart hammered so hard in her chest, it nearly hurt to breathe. Fear wrapped a vice-like grip around her throat. Her vision momentarily turned white as she fought her own body to keep moving. 

   What had she been thinking?! She wasn't a fighter. She was a reader. Heroism sounded like a great idea, until she actually had to go out and do it. She was kidding herself. She wasn't some chosen savior. She was a couch potato. 

   Electrified bolts of magic sparked up and down her arm. The Ultimate, hungry for battle, urged her forward. The voices of its past still echoed in her mind, just past the thundering of her heart. "Protect the Realm..." they sang in unison. "Defeat the Evil..."

   A massive paw swept out at her. In a panic, she dove onto her stomach, sliding across the hard dirt just in time for the bus-sized foot to rush past her. 

   Okay, she was in way over her head with this. Fighting to catch her breath, she tripped over her own wobbling legs as she struggled to rise to her feet. 

   Darrel appeared beside her, grabbing onto her arm and yanking her up. "Clumsy oaf!" His pupils had shrunk in terror, and his breathing was ragged. "You'll never get anywhere if you can't even keep on your feet!"

   Her hands trembled so badly, she couldn't see them clearly. "It's just... I can't... I'm sorry!"

   "Don't be sorry! Be fast!" 

   "Look out!" 

   They had been fortunate last time, but the monster did not intend to miss twice. With a growl, it lifted its paw high, preparing to stomp on them.