by Heath Pfaff
Our swords met again, ringing loudly as they crashed and turned one another aside. I could see heavily armored human forms finally coming into position to attack, and I knew that soon I would be surrounded. As fast as I was, I would be hard pressed to dodge every sword thrust that came aimed at my back. I pressed my attack on the Knight of Ethan, forcing myself faster. That soon became my chant to follow. Faster. Faster. Faster, still. The strains on my body were terrible, but I bore them and fought on. Finally my enemy's defense faltered. It had actually happened in less time than it would take for most men to draw a couple of breaths, but it had felt much longer as we dueled at speeds beyond the realm of reason. My opponent's guard came up low, and the point of my blade slipped under his failed form and pierced his chest, skewering his lungs and heart with surprising ease. I tore the blade aside as I drew it out, a messy move, but one that would assure that my foe was really dead. I watched in slow motion as the light faded from his eyes, and he began to collapse to the ground. Another nightmare face to haunt my sleep, I thought.
My heart gave a painful jump in my chest, followed a breath and then by another, I grimaced in shock and felt my head swim. I dropped out of my sped up perception against my will and found myself face to face with impending death. A guard was charging at me, easy enough to handle at full speed, but unavoidable at normal pace. His blade was leveled for my throat. I reached for my speed, and felt that same terrible pain in my chest. In vain desperation I attempted to bring my sword up, but I knew it would not respond fast enough without my body's full speed at my disposal. A great rend formed across my would-be killer's face, and a moment later a gout of blood spurted forth from the new opening in his head and he fell over. Malice appeared behind him, slowing down, her sword at the end of the arc that had killed the man who would have killed me. I swung back around, looking for my next attacker, but every opponent in the room lay dead upon the floor.
Wisp was off to one side, wiping blood from her weapon onto the tabard of a fallen guard. She had apparently joined our battle at some point, though I couldn't have said when. There was an edge of anger on Malice's face as she walked up to me. "Why did you stop? You nearly got yourself killed. Why did you drop pace in the middle of battle?" I looked around in shock, hardly believing that so many Knights and human guards had been dispatched so quickly. I had certainly not done my share. My heart pounded, and my head spun. "Answer me, Lowin. Do you want to die or something?"
I looked blankly at her for a moment. I wasn't sure how to answer that question. I put my hand over my heart, "I kept pushing for speed, so I could beat that Knight, but just as I beat him I felt this terrible pain in my chest. The speed fell off after that, and I couldn't get it going again." I fumbled for an explanation.
Malice's look of anger became intermingled with one of worry. "You can't do that, Lowin. You can't keep pushing for speed when you hit your limit. Your heart is human, and a human heart can only do so much, even with our improvements. You can kill yourself like that." For a moment she looked like she might hit me, but instead she spun around, turning her back to me, "Are you alright now?"
I flexed my muscles and relaxed, feeling the thrum of my heart in my chest. Everything felt like it was working, but a seed of doubt had been planted in my mind. What good was being faster and stronger, if my heart could not handle the load of such exertions? I had known my limits, and I had intentionally pushed them, but the limits were a difficult to define area of my being. I felt like I should be able to do more than I could. My heart was calming, the pain leaving my chest.
"I think I'm going to be fine," I said, uncertainty edging my words.
"He needs a Kaziem Wolf heart. It would even out his other abilities." Wisp said from where she was still crouched, removing coin pouches from fallen bodies.
"No." Malice said definitively. "That's too dangerous, and I don't know who we could get to perform such a risky procedure anyway."
"You've had it done, haven't you? You must have been conscious during most of the procedure. You could do it." Wisp said.
Malice shook her head in negative reply. "I won't do that. It is... a terrible ordeal. I am one of three to have survived the process, and it was not a pleasant experience. Fifteen others have not been so lucky, and they were good, strong Knights."
My curiosity was peaked. "What is the Kaziem Wolf heart, and what does it do?"
"No," Malice said once more. "We'll not even talk about that. We're not going to do it, so talking about it is pointless. Even if it was a possibility, and it certainly is not, we still have much work to finish, and we certainly don't have the months of time it takes for our bodies to repair that kind of change. We need to find Kye and get out of here as quickly as possible. Put the Kaziem heart out of your mind for good."
Wisp shrugged, "He'll never reach his full potential without it."
The prospect of replacing my heart with that of a monster was frightening. Lucidil had once told me that my heart was the one thing I must never allow to be damaged, but apparently even the heart was not completely sacred to our twisted bodies. If I were to lose my heart, how much humanity would be left to me? I looked at Malice, her face still set in a line of anger, and realized that she was as grounded in humanity as ever despite all her changes. I remembered the scar on her chest that ran between her breasts, and realized exactly what that scar actually meant. It was the remnant of the process that had removed her human heart and replaced it with that of a beast. Malice, for all that her heart was that of a beast, was one of the best people I knew.
"Let us go. We need to find Kyeia and get her out of here soon," Malice said, not bothering to return her sword to its scabbard. She looked to me, locking her green eyes on my own. "Lowin, do not push yourself too far while we fight. Your heart will remain weak for a short time until it can totally recover from the strain. If you die, then all of this is for nothing, do you understand?"
"Yes," I said, though I didn't fully understand. Our mission was to save Kyeia. If I were to die, that was something that I was willing to accept, so long as Kye was rescued.
"Wisp, you may go your own way now. I hope that you find your way to freedom," Malice said, turning to address the black-eyed woman.
"Actually," Wisp said, standing from her grim work of looting the dead. "I think I will accompany you and Lowin. It will be easier to exit this compound in the company of others than on my own. They surely will not let me leave here unquestioned while I am supposed to be on guard duty in the dungeon. Better that I come out fighting, than end up locked in the dungeon myself."
Malice shrugged. "If that is what you want. I will not stop you."
"Besides, I can lead you to where you need to start looking. I know my way around the building better than either of you," Wisp added.
"Any help that expedites our work here today is welcomed," I said with a nod to Wisp.
"Good, let us go," she answered, and fell into the position of lead. Malice went behind her, and I took up the rear, worry gnawing at my bones. I needed my heart to hold out for me until we'd found and rescued Kye. If it lasted that long, then I felt I could die happily. Once she was free, I didn't care what happened to me any longer. I owed her so much, and I would not let myself fall before paying it back. I just needed my strength to hold a little longer.
Back out in the halls of the villa, we were at a sudden advantage. We were three skilled warriors and, even if we encountered a guard and hostilities came of it, we outnumbered the single man patrols. Wisp also knew the patrol routes, and so was able to guide us around the areas of heaviest traffic. Thanks to her guidance we were able to travel as far as the east wing without encountering so much as a single guard, human or Knight. Our luck, however, could not hold indefinitely. The entrance to the east wing was guarded by three humans and a single Knight of Ethan standing in front of a heavy gate. Wisp led us straight to the gate, not slowing in her approach. As we drew near, the guards came to attention, weapons readied.
The Kni
ght of Ethan, tall and imposing in his shifting cloak, stepped forward. "Wisp, what is your business here? You do not belong on this side of the building." The guard's voice was gruff, but not laced with "the voice." His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, fingers tense.
"You see..." Wisp began, but she spoke no further words. Her body launched into motion. In a single strike the cloaked warrior's head was separated from his neck, but the young Knight, yet another fallen into villainy since meeting me I realized, did not stop there. In the space of a breath all four men guarding the east wing entrance were downed. Her killing spree ended, the trail of blur that had been her form coming to rest in almost the same position she'd started. "...we have business in the east wing." She finished.
She retrieved the gate key from the guard and unlocked the door barring our way. I was shocked by the ferocity with which she accomplished her goals, but at the same time I understood the necessity. We were in an enemy fortress and outnumbered. Every advantage must be taken. The pile of dead bodies was growing higher by the minute. We had now killed five Knights of Ethan. That many dead, when so many had already been killed at Fell Rock, was a terrible cost to the king. If I hadn't already been wanted for treason, I knew that there would be no escaping that fate now. There was no life left for me in the kingdom of my birth.
The east wing was the smallest portion of the villa, and searching it was easy enough. We had only to look for a room that was heavily guarded enough to be the one we wanted. Many rooms we passed had single guards outside them, either a Knight or a human, mostly dependent, I guessed, upon how important was the secret kept therein, but that which we were looking for we knew was guarded by two Knights of Ethan. The Knights we did pass showed no interest in us, assuming that if we were there we must be there legitimately. I wondered how long the bodies we'd left behind would go unnoticed. If we were lucky, it wouldn't be until the next changing of the patrols.
Finally, we turned a corner and came within sight of our goal. There were two stoic guards facing out, dressed in cloaks of shifting fabric. We approached them cautiously. They were at the end of a corridor and as we drew nearer I knew that they must be aware of where we were going. There was only one place for us to be going. The door with the two guards was the only one down this stretch of hallway. I saw them straighten as we approached and knew that beneath their cloaks they were getting ready for whatever trouble we might bring. My eyes went to the door between them. Beyond that sheet of wood was Kyeia. The woman I had loved, and had thought dead, was now so very close that if I were to run I might be at her side in less than a minute. Running, of course, was out of the question. I would be cut down before I could even turn the door handle, but my patience was wearing thin.
"Turn back. You have no business in this hallway," one of the guards called, and his tones were heavy with "the voice," the threat as evident as he could possibly make it. They both drew sword, obviously a protocol-based reaction. I guessed that they had been told to allow only certain people within range of the room, and we were not those people. My hands twitched at my sides. I didn't want to be held back any longer. Something terrible and powerful broke free within me. My restraint, carefully held in check for so long, shattered, and I charged the door, flashing into full speed as my weapon came to my hand. Of course the guards had time to see me coming, and so met my charge with blows aimed to kill.
I was maddened beyond normal means, however, and my already immense strength was doubled in my haze of frustration. My blade crashed into first one Knight's sword, then the other, and the force of my blow drove both their weapon points aside. I did not relent. I slashed out with my free hand, harnessing all the force I could muster. My blow ripped the better part of the first Knight's face off, splashing the adjacent wall with brains and gore. Before I could spin to attack the other enemy, I felt a burning streak of cold-lightning that started on my left side, just above my hip, and carried all the way through to the right of my body. The second guard had recovered from my initial sword strike, and his blade was now piercing my body, the hilt pressed against my left hip, and the blade tip protruding at an odd angle from my right side, slightly beneath the pit of my arm. I saw the murderous look in his eyes, and the shifting of his hand on his weapon as he prepared himself to rip the sword free, a move I knew would tear me mostly in half. My free hand streaked out, claws sharpening to points finer than any crafted blade, and severed his arm below the shoulder. Even as I struck his arm from him, a sword point pierced his head and the life fled his face. The world slowed for me then, the rush of battle ebbing away, and I looked to Malice who stood with her sword still in the position of the killing blow she had just struck. She drew the weapon free and the body fell away. Her eyes, like brilliant emeralds, sparkled with such a look of terror and confusion. I took a deep breath, and it rattled in my lungs, causing me to cough. Blood misted into the air.
I tried to turn toward the door, but the sword running through my body made turning difficult, and a cold chill passed through me. I coughed again, blood spattering the front of my cloak and running in droplets down the stain resistant fabric. I looked to the place where the sword pierced my body and saw that it had torn straight through my rare garment. I regretted the damage profusely. My eyes closed, and I forced them open.
I was so close to seeing Kye again. I re-sheathed my weapon, grabbed the hilt of the sword that ran through me and pulled, and it started to slide out. The angle at which it had passed through me made it impossible to draw it entirely free in a single pull, so I had to choke up on the blade and draw more of it out. More of the sword came free, the world spun. I was on my knees, my hand still clenched about the blade of the sword, but now Malice was in front of me, a look of mixed panic and fear on her features that I had never seen there before. I could see Wisp, standing back, a sickened look on her face. I shook my head and looked at the sword still protruding from me. I drew a deep breath, coughed up more blood, and grabbed the blade again and pulled. This time the blade slid far enough out that gravity did the rest of the work. It fell away from me, and clattered to the ground. I heard voices and looked up again.
Malice was looking at me, talking, but I couldn't make out what she was saying. The words seemed far away and jumbled. I stood up, though my legs were numb and resisted the effort. Malice seemed distressed, anger obvious on her face, but the sting of that anger was taken away by the look of worry hidden beneath it. Were things really so bad, I wondered? I noticed the hole in the other side of my cloak, and groaned internally.
Inside my body I could feel a deep burning replacing the cold streak that had been the metal of the sword. I ignored that sensation and took a step towards the door. It was close. I took another step, and this time I was within range of it. I reached for the handle, the effort to do so far more difficult than it should have been. Suddenly Malice was at my side, lifting my arm over her shoulders, and holding me up. I opened my mouth to thank her, but the words wouldn't come out. She turned the handle of the door and dragged me through the opening. Blackness edged my vision, and I realized that my eyes were trying to close. I forced them open again. I was in a white room, with a bed at the center. There were tables covered in instruments that I didn't recognize, but it was the bed that drew my attention. There was a figure lying atop it, but I couldn't see it from where I was. I forced myself to take a step forward, but it was difficult. Wisp passed by Malice and me, walking to the bed. She looked down at the figure on the bed, and then looked back at me and there was such a look of distress on her face that I nearly felt overwhelmed by panic. I wanted to ask her what was wrong but my lips wouldn't form the words. My heart began to beat heavily in my chest, and the burning in my body intensified. My right arm, which had been going numb, began to tingle, and I took another step forward.
Wisp's lips were moving, but I still couldn't make out what she was saying.
"How bad?" I heard Malice's voice for the first time since I was injured in the battle, the words were distant but
coming clearer.
Wisp replied but I missed all the words but the last, "...bad."
I took another step towards the bed, my feet growing firmer beneath me. I drew in a deep breath, and it didn't rattle in my chest. My wounds were going to heal. I was tired though. I had not felt so exhausted in as long as I could remember. Even the body of a Knight, of a Broken Sword, of whatever I was now, a monster, even my body could grow tired.
"Lowin, I don't know if..." Malice began, but I had the strength now to speak, and I cut her off.
"I need to see her." I pulled myself away from my green-eyed friend and walked to Kye's bedside. Each step I took, I grew stronger thanks to the gift given to me by the girl I knew lay on that bed. Each breath I drew came with less pain, as wounds that would have killed even most Knights of Ethan, healed within me, because Kye had given me her life. By the time I reached the bedside, maybe ten steps, I barely hurt at all. I looked down at the form laying in the bed, and whatever hope I'd held of walking into the countryside hand and hand with my love broke inside me. The figure in the bed was indeed Kye, but little remained to tell by.
Her hair was an unhealthy shade of gray, and thin to the point that it was missing in many places. Her skin was waxy, her cheeks - though all the lines might be familiar - were made alien by their sunken and hollow appearance. Where her eyes had once been, were two holes full of puckered scar tissue. I collapsed to my knees at the bed side, taking one of Kye's hands in mine. It was almost skeletal, seemingly more fragile than the finest glass figurine. Had I closed my fist, I felt I would have crumpled and destroyed her.