A Beautiful Saviour

Chapter Eighteen

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. That is the saying that so many told him over and over again but it didn’t feel like he had got strong, it just felt as if another adversary had come his way.

“Strength doesn’t get you everything. Strength can’t rule a species!”

“It can. Join me Joseph, or I’ll show you just what strength can do.”

                Confused at his opponent he turned around to look back at the enchantress by the trees. Had she known? Yes, she had; he saw it in her face – regret.

“I’m sorry Joseph. He’s known me from many years back. He threatened my land personally and my kin. You were the only one I knew who could defeat him. I figured your race needed that lifeline as well.”

Her soft voice carried across the field for she was sheltered amongst the woods. A bit of warning would have been nice. Maybe an inkling into what exactly he was up against and what she was doing but no, she had kept him in the dark. Well… he had come here with one job in mind and he wasn’t going to turn away from it now. He figured the forest that had been his home for many weeks now, was too pretty to be destroyed anyway. He smiled at her and nodded once. “I’d best get to business then hadn’t I?”

He visibly saw the relief on her face as he turned back to the kind. “You are from the white days yourself.”

“Yes, I endured everything you endured until I was carried away by a stranger and healed in the darkness of a cave until the war ended.”

“Interesting. I saw that war end. I was in it when the sun burnt through the remaining ranks and cremated the leaders on either side.”

                The king curled his lip but Joseph merely carried on, a new expression on his face. Could it be pride? “I guess I was strong one then, I held out longer than you in that battle.” He couldn’t help a little taunt toward the arrogant king. “I won’t join you. I’ll take you away so there is no chance of your rule and then we can go back how we were living before. Only once you’re gone I’ll make sure some changes happen; I’ll make sure those who hadn’t had a voice before, will have one now. We should all learn from our mistakes.”

                He looked back at the vampire that had first talked to him about why he joined forced under the kings rule and with eye contact he promised the vampire, change. So wrapped was Joseph in trying to promise a difference that he didn’t see the blow, his aura dented suddenly and a pressure hit him low in his stomach taking the air from his lungs and sending him rocking backwards on his feet. Staggering a little from the unprepared blow he ground his teeth and dug the heels of his feet into his aura to anchor himself and stop himself from falling back. He closed his eyes for a second.

                No matter how much diplomacy he tried for or whether he wore a suit or not, battle today was inevitable. “So it begins.” He said but he wouldn’t let anyone else join in either. Too much devastation had already occurred for that.

                With a glance around at the vampires he expanded his magic to create a border to keep everyone back from him and the king and then he forced each vampire still. He tied them to the spot they stood and he heard their gasps as he locked them in their crouched or standing positions, made to watch but not take part, and then he lifted up his hands, palms upwards and rose a little more off the ground. “I don’t want to dirty this suit.” He explained as he waited for the next blow with his eyes piercing the kings. Let it end now. Let everything end now. He had a bad feeling that unleashing his power like this was going to feel rather good…

                He thrust out power only for the king to do the same and in the middle of them was a fight of forces. Joseph, leading with his little finger, made an arc raising his fingers and lowered them. The stones around them both lifted from the ground, into the air and began to revolve around both of them. He made them encase the fighting pair in a circle, yet ready at any moment to pelt forward in attack or form a wall of defence should he need it. He blinked and tried to attach magic to the king ankles, to drag him down, but the king was ready for that and he pushed out a bolt of magic that hit Joseph in the face. He wasn’t fazed. Bringing his fingers to his thumb he spread them out, like signing that a flower was blooming, and his nails unsheathed into claws, the pointed nail exuding sparks of magic. Dragging them down the air in a scratching motion he magically ripped five wounds into the kings chest, an aura was not a shield. They were still about five feet apart yet the roar from the king as his blood started to run down his chest was so loud they may as well have been stood face to face.