Talukiel the Blade (1/2)

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I wake up to a stranger leaning against the window.

His face is half-shadowed in the moonlight, a cast of silver upon which features indescribably perfect are etched on by some divine artist. Under those perfectly manicured eyebrows his eyes are abnormally bright, brimming with bloodshot whites. His raiment of the Phalanx, too wide for his wiry shoulders, looks more like a sarcastic costume than any disguise. On his waist hangs a duelling sabre with a black blade.

'Come to the light,' he coons. His voice is eerily high.

For an eternity we look at each other...then he moves first, faster than shadow. One blink and his face, that flawless sculpture, is an inch from mine. In the dark his eyes look completely insane.

'Ah...it's too late,' he whimpers like a petulant child. 'The fire's already taken hold. What did you do, little fool?' He withdraws to the window, silent as a wraith. 'No matter. We must talk nonetheless. There is so much I want to tell you...but not here. This hole is so insufferably quiet. Shall we take a stroll?'

With monumental effort I untie my tongue. 'You...you're Talukiel.'

With a flourish he places his right hand upon his chest, wrist tented up like that of a puppeteer as his fingers tap in a rolling wave, up and down, little finger to index and back again.

'Call me Talu, for we are kindred,' he says. 'Come, let's hurry. My friends are eager to proceed.'

Incredibly, he offers me his hand.

My sword is leaning on the wall to his right, just within reach –

A metallic ding, like tinkling glass; a black shadow zooms past my outstretched hand, and my ring finger does a lazy backflip and comes away from the rest of the hand, drawing a trail of crimson as it tumbles to the ground. Then the pain comes. Breaking an arm seems like a paper cut now.

Talu's gloved hand closes around my mouth and shoves down the rising scream. The silky material had been heavily scented – lilac. 'Calm now,' he chides. 'Rarely do I sheath my blade unsated, but an exception I shall make. We're like brothers, after all.'

I mutter something pathetic through his hand.

He lets go but moves the tip of his sabre a hair's breadth from my throat. I lean back; the blade follows. I shuffle sideways; it follows, always at the same distance and not trembling at all. It could be carrying a full cup on its flat edge and not a drop would spill.

'Out the door, please,' he says, politely poking into the soft folds on my neck.

Pull yourself together. If even this little hurdle trips you up how are you supposed to face the Apex?

'If...if...'

'Pardon me?' Talu sneers.

'If...this...'Blood rushes to my head in a powerful wave. 'If this is how you'll act then we shan't speak.'

Incredulity is not a good look for him; it powders his face with an extra layer of crazy.

'What did you say?'

With each word uttered the next becomes easier. 'I feel sorry for you.'

Talu's mouth twitches. 'Such insolence,' he whispers. 'She has already perverted your mind –'

I interrupt him. This might be the first time I've ever interrupted someone. 'I can't think of a single good reason that you'd want to be here. You can't win. If you came to apologize it's ten years too late. The only thing left is that you came here to die. Is that it?'

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