Tarase - The Story of Ibsin ad-la Adda

Chapter 6

Chapter 6-

            As the guard kept Ibsin walking, Ibsin couldn’t help but keep his mind on how he could save Evnya. The guard shoved Ibsin this way and that as they walked through the streets, off towards the city’s main gate. ‘You don’t have a plan, do you?’ the Voice said in his mind. Ibsin sighed, sometimes finding the Voice’s timing bad. The Voice was simply how his power spoke to him, though did tend to tempt Ibsin into doing things he normally wouldn’t do. ‘I know you can hear me. Ignoring me won’t work,’ the Voice said again. “Stop talking, this isn’t the time,” Ibsin responded. The guard looked at Ibsin strangely, thinking the man was talking to him. “Eh? You keep quiet…” the guard said, shoving Ibsin down another street as the neared the city gate, the view of it only a few streets away. ‘You can kill him, right here, right now. And no one will notice, this is the perfect time!’ the Voice excalimed. “No! I won’t do it!” Ibsin said, a bit louder, catching the attention of the guard again. “Hey! I thought I told you to be quiet!” the Guard shouted, hitting Ibsin in the back of the head with the staff of his spear.

            ‘You see? Now he’s beating you. If you had done as I told and when, we’d be saving your precious girl by now,’ the Voice said, annoyed with having to constantly tell his host he told him so. ‘Well, if you’re not going to do anything, then I will,’ the Voice said again. “N-no…p-please…n-no…” Ibsin only managed to say before he saw his vision blur red and an odd feeling of being pulled from his body and into his mind as his power took him over. All Ibsin could do as his power overtook the guard’s beatings, was watch in horror.

            The guard’s eyes were wide with shock as his prisoner suddenly grabbed a hold if his spear and snapped it like a twig, and swatted him across the face with the splintered piece. The guard went down to the ground, his face torn open across the cheek as he looked up at his former prisoner. “Wh-what…what are you?!” he asked, the fear as clear in his voice as it was on his face. Ibsin held the guard down with one claw, while the other was held up above him, the talons shining softly in the sunlight. “I’m complicated,” Ibsin heard the Voice say in an almost amused tone before suddenly the claw was brought down, and the guard’s head was smashed to a gritty pulp.

            Ibsin threw the body off to the side, and as he did, he saw his reflection and nearly screamed in horror. What he saw was not himself, not even a close resemblance. His face had become more demonic, almost more angular, and his horns had turned forwards and had turned to a dull yellow. His body had lengthened, by nearly a whole foot and had become thinner than it was once before. His wings had grown, and become a dark grey, instead of the thin membranous red wings he had before. He stared at himself before he heard someone shout and he climbed up to the rooftops, his body returning to normal, and out of the sight of those who soon had found the body of the guard. He looked around quickly before setting the Palace in his sights and took off along the roofs, his determination making him move faster to save his beloved.