Trial of Anubis

١٦: ZIARA

   "Killing you would be a waste," despite the sentiment, Wraith didn't drop the Khepesh from Anuka's throat. "I owe your brother more than that."

       Ziara wiped her eyes and moved in front of Nathanial. He still crouched behind her, clutching his broken wrist. It felt like she'd rubbed lemon in them as she scrubbed harder. Anuka cocked his head at her, trying to understand Ziara's motives.

        "Anuka," Isfet repeated in warning.

          He shook his head, but Ziara was uncertain if it was to Isfet or Wraith's statement. Anuka lowered the Blade of Duamutef but moved his hand to grasp beneath the guard with his thumb and forefingers. He slid the hilt up his sternum and hooked the jackal pommel against the curve of the Khepesh and flicked it away from his throat. Adjusting his grip further down to the ridge, he swept it behind him in a quick stab motion.

       Ziara darted to the side to see if Wraith had been stabbed but the Head Son grunted, his head down. His hand curled around the curved point and wheezed as the blood began to pool at his feet. Anuka retracted the sword and swung with the precision of an asp.

       It was like watching a dance, Wraith and Anuka seemed to work equally in union as they did against each other. Moving the weight onto his toes, Wraith pivoted and swung the Khepesh. He blocked the initial hit and lodged the bottom curve of the sword against Anuka's, locking it to the side.

      Though, Anuka's previous hit had severed two of Wraith's fingers and tore deep into his palm rendering his left hand useless. Only using his right against Anuka left him at a severe disadvantage and Ziara could see the Khepesh tremble.

      "Killing Wraith won't make the pain go away," Ziara outstretched her hand for him to take in truce. "It won't bring Asemonekh back."

       Anuka looked over his shoulder at her and his lip curled back, "You know the supposed truth, yet you still protect him. You're turning out to be just as bad, Head Daughter."

       Her hand clenched into a fist and she narrowed her eyes at the Blade of Duamutef in anger. Unlike last time, there was no gradual increase of heat, the bound grip ignited in flames which caused Anuka to briefly let go.

        "Your party trick doesn't scare me," Anuka snarled.

        Again, he utilised all parts of the weapon. He dropped his grip towards the fuller and swung, using Wraith's brief moment of shock against him. With one sharp movement, Anuka severed Wraith's arm just below the elbow joint before throwing the sword to the side as the heat became too much to bear.

        Wraith collapsed on his side, clutching the new wound, "Fuck!"

        "This isn't how you avenge a brother," she rubbed her eyes again and stumbled towards Wraith's writhing figure.

        "Don't tell me how to live," Anuka reached down and pried Wraith's severed arm from the Khepesh and twirled the sword like an extension of his body.

       Bandages shot up from the ground and pulled at her legs, yanking her off balance and onto her stomach. Anuka fisted his hand in her hair and dragged her across the ground, positioning the Khepesh against her throat.

         "Anuka," Isfet stepped out of the doorway and held the papyrus between his thumb and index finger. "Don't."

         It seemed to happen in slow motion. His wrist flicked to graze the edge across her throat, severing the artery, but before he could press deep enough to split the skin, Ziara cupped his face in panic and focussed her Wadjet on him.