The Twelfth Moon || ✔️

71. The Battle pt. 1

Though the streets here still remained untouched, as soon as my feet met with the outside soil, the smell of blood and the screaming of dying people prickled my senses.

From what I could tell, the commotion came from the side of the town square. It seemed that even in war, the slums were heavily avoided.

I assumed Aven would be there, too, or he would be near at least. Either way, I needed to reach him as fast as I could. If not to tell him about the tunnels, then at the very least to send him in the direction of the Central Building. 

The quicker he'd be able to kill Beckett, the quicker this would all come to an end.

I marched through the streets, taking a few small detours to stay in the quiet passes as long as I could before I had to join the fighting. 

My main priority was finding Aven, and I needed to be alive to deliver my message.

"Look who I stumble upon," I suddenly heard from behind me. "If it isn't our dearest Sari."

My body flashed around, to be met by a vicious man.

"Looks like our Moon has finally agreed to let me finish what I started."

His chestnut hair, which also came through in his deep brows, and his cloudy little beard which looked more like mold, rang a bell in my head. An alarm went off, telling me to run, to get out of here.

"You don't recognize me?" he asked, mocking offense, as he crept closer to me.

I tried to run, but my legs seemed to freeze until he forced me against a wall, my back hammering against the bricks behind me.

"Maybe this will remind you," he sang, grabbing my hand. Before I could pull away, extract a claw, or do anything at all, he took my ring finger in his grip and snapped it in two, like it was a twig.

And through my screams, I remembered him. The guard had mangled me right before my Ascension. I recognized him.

And he recognized me. Or at least, he thought he did. He saw the old version of me, the one who still lived here, the defenseless girl.

But I was no longer that girl. And I'd let the Sun burn me alive before I would run away from him again.

I felt him reaching back for my mangled finger, his other arm forcing me back against my neck. I brought my good arm up, and jolted it down in his arm with force, taking it away from my neck.

Before I even took a clear breath, my hand went back up, punching him straight in the face. Some droplets of blood twinkled to the ground, making small pools of crimson alongside my blood.

The throbbing in my hand went away, the buildings behind me disappeared, and the sounds of the fighting nearby seemed to evaporate, leaving nothing but me and this man.

My knee went up and found his groin, forcing him to cower, falling hands first on the ground.

But before I could land another kick, he turned on his back, his foot hitting my knee and sending me back against the wall.

The time I needed to regain myself after a hard hit to my head, was enough time for him to get up, and regain the short advantage I had stolen.

His fist landed across my cheek, and I could practically hear some bones breaking as my face met the floor.

I was barely able to pull myself together, scrambling on the wet cobblestones, when he grabbed me by my neck and hoisted me up, pounding me against the wall again.

He forced me against the wall again, making sure my head took another hard blow, and I could feel the blood seeping down my neck and splashing against the ground.