Evelyn Parker

Chapter Twenty

Shards of glass continued to rain down, glinting ominously in the building's light, intensifying the chaos and danger. Evelyn braced herself for the impending impact, anticipating the harsh thud of the ground beneath her. But the expected collision never came.

Instead, a sudden rush of cold air enveloped her, followed by a feeling of weightlessness. Slowly, she opened her eyes, only to be greeted by an astounding sight. She was no longer hurtling through space. In fact, she was suspended in mid-air, her hair and garments billowing in the ethereal breeze.

Evelyn's breath caught in her throat as she looked around the chamber in amazement. This was new. In all of the magic and spells she had done, she had never known she could do this.

"I... I can fly?" she breathed.

A surge of adrenaline coursed through her veins as she positioned herself for takeoff. Inhaling deeply, Evelyn lightly touched her feet to the ground and sprang into the air, ascending toward the railing with each resolute beat of her wings. The wind roared past her face as she soared higher and higher.

As she flew, she conjured the Whistling Whips of Lammasu, the magical weapons crackling with energy as they appeared in her hands. Tzion looked up in shock as he saw her hovering in the air before him, his eyes widening.

With an explosive crack, Evelyn unleashed her whips, their mythical tendrils slicing through the air with a life of their own. They coiled around Tzion's weapon, gripping it tightly, refusing to release their hold.

Gritting her teeth, the barista strained against his resistance, her muscles trembling with exertion.

Yet, Tzion was no easy opponent. His grip on the weapon tightened and with a forceful tug, he pulled Evelyn towards him. Reacting swiftly, she flipped her body, delivering a powerful kick to Tzion's chest. The impact sent him staggering backward onto the floor.

Evelyn alighted onto the hardwood floor with an unexpected grace, the squeak of her sneakers resonating in the oddly silent room.

Her eyes darted about, scrutinizing the area for any potential tool or weapon that might tip the scales in her favor.

"Alright, think, Evelyn," she muttered under her breath.

Her attention was drawn to an odd, slimy green ball perched on a nearby display case. It was hardly the ideal weapon, but it was better than nothing.

"What even is this?" she mused, picking it up with a grimace.

Suddenly, her senses flared, alerting her to the presence of the sorcerer attempting to sneak up on her.

Without a second thought, she hurled the strange ball at him. To her shock, the ball seemed to come alive, its trajectory erratic and unpredictable. It spiraled and spun through the air, homing in on Tzion as though guided by an unseen force.

It slammed into him with a wet squelch, wrapping around him in a tight, inescapable grip, rendering him immobile.

For now, it was over.

Evelyn slumped in exhaustion, watching as her defeated foe crumpled to the ground. Relief washed over her, but it was tempered by a lingering wariness, her body still braced for further confrontation.

Suddenly, the eerie silence was broken by a muffled, rhythmic chanting. Evelyn stiffened, her heartbeat quickening as she strained to identify the source. The sound was emanating from Tzion. A wave of unease swept over her, and she approached him warily.

"What are you up to?" she demanded, her eyes wide with apprehension.

With a swift motion, she yanked the gag from Tzion's mouth, revealing his ominous chant. She could barely decipher his words, but one phrase hit her like a punch to the gut: "Die."