151 - Stab

9 0 0
                                    

Therion wasted no time in pursuing Albus with his dagger at the ready. He sent out three quick stabs of fire magic, and while Albus shrugged off the first two, the third blast exploded in front of him with enough force to send him stumbling backwards. Primrose swept in low, her dagger slashing a massive cut across his leg. Albus raised one arm to try and knock her off her feet, but Primrose evaded the attack at the last second, and she came up in a slicing motion to open yet another injury on his arm. Albus growled in pain, refusing to give her the dignity of hearing him scream. 

Revello rushed toward Albus when he saw a weak point in his opponent's defenses, and when he did, he found himself in much the same position Primrose had been in a short while ago. Revello and Albus' blades clashed fiercely for any sense of superiority, but neither one of them found it. "I don't understand how you could do this!" Revello cried out, his voice a blend of grief and rage. "You took an oath to defend this town, but you threw it away in the name of money without a second thought?!"

"The Obsidians were going to ruin Noblecourt no matter what Geoffrey did," Albus countered. "I chose to cast my coin with the winning player. That is all." He pulled his blade back suddenly, and Revello stumbled forward from the lack of tension keeping him upright. Albus moved to strike Revello down, but he was cut off by a blast of dark magic that cut him off halfway. Primrose was looking out for Revello even in her single-minded pursuit of revenge, and that resulting lapse in attention on Albus' part was enough to give Revello the chance to escape. 

"I've seen your type before," Therion muttered, his voice far darker than it had any right to be. "You claim to be the smartest player on the field because you're not above a little treachery, but you're willing to throw away everything just so you can stab your allies in the back first." His words shook near the end, but he refused to acknowledge it, instead slashing his dagger across Albus' back. 

The right wing lashed out as quickly as he could, and he caught Therion in the arm with his wild punch. The thief took this as his cue to retreat, but he wouldn't be out of the fight for long. Seeing Therion injured was finally enough to pull Alfyn out of his thoughts, and he cast a healing spell to offset the damage of Albus' punch. Therion glanced over to Alfyn with relief written in his eyes, but he hid his gratitude just as quickly when he caught a glimpse of the color of the apothecary's coat. Therion went right back to the battle after that, and Alfyn watched him with muted, distant eyes before bracing his own axe and hesitantly following Therion into the fray. 

Albus could see the weakness in Alfyn's demeanor though, and he was more than happy to take advantage of it. He rushed toward the apothecary all at once, and Alfyn realized a little bit too late just how massive and imposing Albus truly was. He threw up his axe to try and deflect a dagger slash from Albus, but the right wing had too much force behind his slash for Alfyn to be able to fully stop it. The apothecary was forced into a stumbling retreat, but before he could fully escape, Albus closed the distance between them with a punch that sent Alfyn sprawling across the room until his back slammed unceremoniously into the wall. The world spun around him as the air was forced from his body, but he could see one certainty running toward him in the form of Albus. 

And for a few brief seconds, Alfyn was not in Noblecourt anymore. He was in Quarrycrest sitting on the ground with a pounding headache and Morlock moving in for the kill above him. He was waiting for Ophilia to come and deliver the killing blow to save his life and damn them both. Alfyn was in Saintsbridge too, raising his axe high to ensure no one died the same way he almost had back in Quarrycrest. Therion was pinned to the tree on the other side of Miguel, his eyes losing their light as his lungs lost their air. Alfyn knew even before the axe fell that he was a killer, and yet, that thrill of love, loving, and being loved was too intoxicating for him to care. 

Eight IntertwinedWhere stories live. Discover now