The Last Legacy

Chapter 2: Haunted

By the time I go back to the Citadel, the patronizing bells are already echoing across the avenue. It's a little pass midnight, and the assassins are already gearing up for our next mission. I make my way into the pavement, and notice the venue of the Citadel, so hade and overshadowing. Almost unwelcoming.
This is home. This is the home of all the Morlocks and the people who feel like they are outcasts from the human world. Every rare creature you could think of, we had it. This is the home of all of us that needed comprehension and acceptance. The fairies were grinding up from the door of the Citadel, quickened upon my gaze. Their azure and penetrating eyes staring down on me and my sword. They were threatened, some way or another. The long-haired pointy ears man whispered something to a woman beside him. Their amethyst ensembles flopping around their fragile bodies. None of them had a chance in the tournament. They were fragile and broken. Their specie was the last one in the Citadel, and no one batted an eye to them. They had their own language called ura'nia, which they used to talk to each other frequently. They didn't necessarily have to do that. They had the ability to learn languages simply through touching. I turned my gaze back into the fairies for once last time and my stare stumbles upon the man of the fairies.
The one who has the chance to emerge and make the difference. The one who is not afraid to take the opportunity.
Jericho.
I've heard the rumors coming around the Citadel and I knew they were true. I witnessed it with my own eyes, after all.
The power of that staff was unlike anything else I've seen before. He was a threat in the tournament, that was a fact.
But he was not me.
The tournament was getting closer minute by minute, and my breath falls short. I think about my brother, Jonas, who did everything he could to be victorious.
And he failed.
I remember Jonas was determined and self-confident. Much more than I ever could be. He teaches me how to handle myself with this sword, the hellblade.
He would position me in the center of the battlefield and ask me to swing it back and forth.
"Don't stop, Ariadne. Know your instincts, conquer them and execute them" he expressed, as I lunged the sword down every position I could think of.
He always used to say to get to know your sword and its embodiment. Knowing your sword and how to embrace it will help.
I get lost in my thoughts for a second and suddenly crash against a man. His colossal bust making frontlines against the room. I gear myself up and notice who he is.
Jax Fields.
The most dangerous weapon constructed for the Citadel; after me, of course. His obsidian muscles were covered in blisters as if he was already at war with someone...or something. His charcoal cloak swerving through the surface and reaching for his path. There was something particular about it though.
His gloves.
I knew why he wore it. Anything he touches deeply is gone, simple as that. He glares at me for a second, his fixed stare wandering on my frosted hairline and marks. Abruptly, he fixes his gaze back to the door ahead of me and marches towards it without any care. I let him go, but then I hear a whisper coming from under his breath. "Fucking rookies.". The thought paralleling on my perception, disturbing me and it's a matter of time until I'm chasing right after him.
- "Hey!" I call out. "What the hell, man?"
He stops for a second and slowly turns back to me. This time I can fully embrace his persona and impairment. His counterfeit ocular now glaring at me deeply. I can almost feel my energy being driven away.
- "You..." he starts speaking as if admiring my presence, but then overturns his gaze back to the throne room and changes outlook. "Fuck off, woman."
Woman. That's rich. Coming from the guy with a prosthetic eye and covered in black sheets.
"Excuse me?"
"I suggest you stay away. This is no place for a woman" Jax faces against me with such prestige, and swiftly, takes his hands out of the gloves. The onyx aura encompassing his grip, facing me onward. For a second, I freeze. One touch and I'm dead. But I'm not letting myself be talked down by him. They are always watching, after all. I face him and glare directly at his eyes, transmitting my angriness at him. I'm not afraid of him and I never will be.
"How about I take that hand, shove it around your back and stick it up your ass?"
Jax, defensively, stares back at me. He thinks he is the bigger man on this. He thinks he has everyone around us beaten.
He thinks.
"You know, I can slay you right now with just one single touch"
I breathe for a second and realize that it is true. One deep touch and there's no coming back. But I trained my whole life for exactly people like him.
I know people like him. They only like to exhibit what they don't have.
"That would be the last mistake you ever make." I reply, as I stand my ground. Jax scowls at me for another moment, taking fully what I've said. But then he just chuckles.
As if what I said was nothing but a joke. A parody. He turns his way back into his destiny, but suddenly stops once again. Regretting his last line, perhaps, but then I'm awoken by the sudden urge of his instincts.
He bashes to make a move on my way, but I dodge expeditiously and hold his negative gloomy arm. I halt him to the ground with my bare hands, placing my extremity on his surface and press it solidly.
Damn it, I want to do it.
I want to crackle his neck and just let it be done. The urge discharging my insides with such monstrosity.
I give in to it. Until I hear a familiar voice in the background.
"Stop." Shujinko intercepts.
I break the barricade and let Jax get up.
"Lady Ariadne, what is the meaning of this?"
"Nothing, I—" I make an effort to talk but as I look besides, I notice Jax is already gone. I see him walking into the simulation room. I catch a glimpse of his hand as it shuts into a fist. I turn my gaze back to Shujinko who is waiting for an answer.
"I—" I take a deep breath and then let it out to gather my words. I try to speak but I notice Shujinko shaking his head and turning back to the simulation room.
"Forget it. Shall we?".