After Skye’s successful block, Omari warped in and swiped at the hooded man with the blade he hide in his gauntlet. Omari’s strike grazed the man’s cheek, drawing blood, before reappearing in front of Skye.
“Took you guys long enough,” Emil said as he fell back to his knees. “He’s strong.”
The barrier that Skye forged collapsed as she turned to Emil. The smile she wore faded as she saw him on his knees trying to stand to his feet alongside Omari. “Stay still! You’re hurt!” Skye rushed to Emil and placed her hands over his head, focusing her energy.
“His attacks are invisible. You’ve got to warn Omari,” Emil whispered.
“I can see them and Omari should be able to sense them,” Skye said as she continued to heal Emil. “He uses psychic energy to attack. To you, it may seem invisible, but to me it is just as visible as you are to me.”
“If that’s so, how is Omari able to sense them?”
“He’s my brother. And, he’s been working with me for a while now, so the sensation of energy being channeled shouldn’t be unfamiliar to him. In addition to that, the nature of his abilities make his body extremely sensitive to changes in the atmosphere around him. When Omari warps he has to create the perfect balance between the planes he shifts between. Essentially anything that is around him at the moment, he has to be aware of and calibrate before he can properly execute his technique. It’s complicated, no doubt, but to him, it’s second nature. Think of it like how your aura interacts with the world around you. Omari, in a way, has one, too. It’s just different.”
“That man, he’s in a league of his own. Omari is strong but I don’t know if he’s strong enough to take him. I feel like he could have killed me if he wanted to. He was toying with me. Let me help him. He can’t do this by himself,” Emil grunted as he tried to stand but Skye scolded him once more.
“If you go now, you’ll be a burden to him. You have to get better before you can do anything.”
A faint grunt escaped from Emil’s mouth as he calmed himself for Skye’s sake. She was noticeably tired. Unmistakably from working out in the field, keeping casualties to a minimum, and healing whenever she could. Her limit had not yet been reached, but it was obvious from her breathing that her body had been reasonably taxed.
“Skye,” Emil said, “save your energy. You’ve done enough. Please. You need to have some for after this is over.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
The warmth of her energy left Emil as her hands receded from his head. Moments later, the dull pain from before returned but on a smaller scale. Instantly, Emil’s body buckled as the pain bent his posture. Rather than seeing an ally in pain, she raced to tend to him, but Emil adamantly refused.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay?”
“Don’t worry about me. You should know by now that I don’t go down easily. You gave me a running start. I’ll be fine in no time. Just cover me until then.”
“Okay.”
As Skye protected Emil from inside her barrier, she watched as her brother stared down the one who was responsible for wreaking havoc on their hometown. Twice the rouge Abnormal had been struck, but it seemed like he was the least bit worried. The cut to his side, he ignored, and the blood from his cheek, he licked whenever appropriate. Skye looked on as his manifestations danced around him, tethered to his back, ready to strike the solemn warrior at a moment’s notice.
Chapter 5: A Fighting Chance
“If you wish to die here, then fight me.” Omari’s words pierced the hooded man’s psyche, ripping the smile he held from his face. As Omari stood before him, Skye sensed the quiet storm brewing underneath Omari’s calm disposition. Emil, somehow, too, felt the tumultuous storm that orbited around him, giving wake to a side of Omari he had yet to see.
For the four warriors that remained in the square, time seemed to operate at a different frequency. A realm in which no man dare set foot, least he or she sought their own damnation. The golden cross that dangled from Omari’s left gauntlet swayed silently with the breeze that carried the screams of the fighting and those in pain. A curse had fallen over the land, turning brother against brother, family against family. The roars in the distance passed through Omari’s ears only as an obscure blur. Ignoring their lamentations was something he had regrettably done long since the fighting had started. There were too many of them and he knew that. Far too many bodies to defend at once, far too many wounded to ensure their survival. In a moment of reflection, The Saint of Everrmore had opened his eyes and found himself in Hell. His absolution buried in the blood of the man who walked with vipers.
The hooded man said nothing, but instead spoke with a covert act of aggression. From his body, his unseen serpents hurdled towards Omari with their fangs exposed, looking to pierce into his soul. True to Skye’s words, Omari perceived the oncoming attack and countered by warping in front of the hooded man, delivering an attack of his own. His fist connected with a surface invisible to the naked eye—a manifestation of the hooded man blocked Omari’s unforeseen attack with relative ease. Wasting no time, Omari warped behind his foe and delivered a swift leg sweep that managed to get through the hooded man’s defenses, tipping him off balance. Omari then pushed off against the ground with his hands, launching himself vertically as his boot connected with the hooded man’s face. The sharp but painfully dull impact reminded Omari of bones breaking, castles falling, crumbling gravel eroding in the sands of time.
“Omari!” Skye called as she witnessed what appeared to be a whip tear through the atmosphere, rapidly approaching her brother. Omari’s sights refocused in front of him as he braced for impact incase his evasion was unsuccessful. In a blink, he emerged above his opponent unharmed, dodging the serpent’s sting that tore through the ground where his body was only a second before. From above, Omari came crashing down, landing a devastating heel kick that drove his opponent face first into the city square, plowing through the concrete as his head burrowed deep into the ground.
Did he kill him? Emil questioned himself as he saw Omari reappear in front the spot where the ground had been frayed. Omari stood silent, unwavering, forever on guard against the threat of a formidable opponent. His cross swayed eerily in the silence around them as the outside world failed to play its key.
“Skye, what do you see? Did he get him? Skye!” Emil waited for what seemed like a short eternity before he rose to his feet to see what left her at a loss for words. It was Omari. Though he stood, it was as if he wasn’t there, only a mere illusion passing in the wind. An echo that passed through an empty hallway. With a thud, he fell to his knees first and then onto his face, lifeless, still. The hooded man rose from the rubble virtually unharmed, no longer donning the hood that covered his head, but silver, layered hair that barked on all sides, lightly cascaded with blood. The smirk he wore before their battle returned at the sight of their heartache.
Through Omari’s chest, the viper’s fangs pierced, protruding in triangular fashion on the other side, before leaving his vessel. The attack came from underground. The well grooved hole fit for a pike gave testament to the defying blow. Emil’s heart bled for his fallen comrade as his aura fell over him, crackling violently like the lighting that surged through his soul. In a fit of rage, Emil dashed onwards towards the Angel of Death, leaving a current of his blue energy that trailed him as he rushed to avenge his fallen friend in the moment of his darkest hour.
“Damn you! Damn you!” The blade that weighed heavily in Emil’s hand bled with his energy, pouring out in excess, ravaging the land his feet treaded against as he approached his target. Ricochets of Emil’s energy ravaged the land as he sped forward in a burst of speed, reminiscent of a bolt of lightning desperate to touch ground.
Instantly the gap between the two rival forces closed and Emil swung widely at the head of his enemy with all of his might. His blade fell short, colliding with the head of the serpent’s wall. The silver haired man watched, un-amused as Emil struggled to
destroy the object that separated him from his perfect end game.
“I’ll...I’ll kill you!” Emil roared as the sky darkened in tandem with his rage. The silver haired man’s expression didn’t change in the slightest as Emil emptied his reserves in a final attempt to push through.
As the silver haired man looked into Emil’s eyes, he remained apathetic, unmoved by the springs of hate that gave wake to a pain he had long since forgotten. A deep-seeded hatred that had been buried the day he was no longer alone.
“OMARI!”
Emil’s blade pushed against the serpent’s head as he pulled deeper into his reserves. Skye remained still, unmoved from the spot where she first witnessed her brother fall. Emil…don’t you know? He’ll kill you this time. You’re not strong enough. Please. Just run, before it’s too late. Please, don’t die.
“RAHHHH!”
The ominous sky that hovered over the City of Everrmore grew darker as Emil drove his blade further into the serpent’s head.
Damn it! I’ll burn out at this rate! I have to do something, quick!
After a final push, Emil retracted his sword and focused the remnants of his energy to the tip of his blade.
As predicted, a rash move by a desperate fool, the silver haired man thought as he slipped beneath Emil’s guard and struck him in the chest with his fist. Stunned, Emil fired the volley of energy off course, redirected by the guiding hand of his enemy. Emil’s eyes grew in disbelief as he watched in shock as his bolt of energy accelerated towards the city clock tower.
No…No!
The loud boom rang in Emil’s ears, ricocheting back and forth between the furthest corners of his mind. His eyes widened as the burning debris fell from the clock tower, sharing its common flame with those on the ground level. The flaming shards of gravel fell from the tower like an unholy fire, consuming all who were naïve enough to stand in its way. As Emil watched in horror, his body trembled as the screams of people magnified tenfold; the weight of their agony crushing Emil as he hopelessly endured his own torment.
No…No! It wasn’t supposed to end like this. Not like this. Anything but this. I… I.
The silver haired man smiled as his grip tightened around Emil’s wrist. From Emil’s mask he heard his pattered breaths; a well known symptom of a tattered heart. The jet black sky faded and returned to its former beauty as Emil’s body grew numb. In his final attack, the fight had been drained from him, both from his actions and the repercussions of what he had just done.
“Now you see,” the silver haired man whispered. “No matter your intentions, it all ends the same. Guts and ambition do little against the sands of time. All that matters is absolute strength. If you aim to change the laws of this land, wishful thinking and ignorance will only send you to your grave.”
The words hit Emil head on as he sluggishly looked to respond. His voice was gone, lost in transition of his newly found reality.
Emil’s body lurched forward as the silver haired man’s vipers struck his chest, draining the life from him with a single strike. His vision grew murky as he struggled to utter his last conscious thought, but his body failed him. The silver haired man paid him no mind and tossed his worn body to the side. As Emil floated, he felt weightless, uninhibited in his free fall until his head smashed against the ground.
Skye…live.
Between the fog that tore into Emil’s world, he was still able to locate Skye, who was several yards back watching from afar. The hope he saw faded as his vision of the waking word left him, leaving him alone once again in the darkness.
The silver haired man casually returned the hood to his head and dug his hands into his pockets once more.
Emil. Omari. I can’t feel their energy anymore. That means…no.
“If you want to end up like your friends, you are more than welcome to fight me. I only come baring a message, not for you but for the people of this land and the king that rules it,” he said before turning away. “I have no qualm with you. I only wish that they know terror.” Skye watched in horror as the hooded man began to leave the town just as quietly as he came. The three manifestations that hovered behind him shrunk back into his back as he slowly distanced himself from her. “These people will grow to hate you. Not by your own doing, but because it must be so…and when they rise against us ‘Abnormals,’ we will gladly be the ones to put them in their place. When the ones you love turn against you, find me, for injustice has no equal here.” With his back to Skye, she watched as multiple tendrils spread from his shoulders like wings and pierced into the hearts of all of those who were on the battle field. The nature of his energy was violent, offensive, and destructive. Its presence alone was enough to induce nausea in the pit of Skye’s stomach. As she watched the violet tinted tendrils bind to their victims, the overwhelming feeling of helplessness consumed her. “W-what is he doing?” Skye said softly to herself as she surveyed the battlefield. The people fighting remained ignorant to the manipulation or the apparent strings that tethered them to the man who was walking away unharmed. Skye gripped her sides as she felt the pressure of his energy grow. The tendrils that he dispersed grew thicker in tandem with the rising tension from the hay-fever that he had created, driving all the he touched mad. Simultaneously, they grew, pulsating rhythmically like a beating heart. With every beat, a rush of red energy spread over the landscape like a gust of wind blowing a tide to shore. It was excess. It was their energy. He had taken what he wanted but everything else was just for the sake of destruction.
He’s taking their energy.
After the silver haired man had his fill, he retracted his tentacles en-mass, releasing everyone who shared a common link. Instantly, their bodies dropped lifelessly to the ground one by one. Suddenly, the war zone fell quiet. Amongst the rubble and carnage, Skye was the only one standing. Both the bodies of her enemies and her allies lay still. Crumbling wood and burning brimstone that decomposed in the backdrop served as a reality check that she was truly alone. There was no time for tears, nor was it time for anguish. Skye calmly overlooked the remnants of what used to be the city square before her eyes rested upon her fallen brother, Omari. It was at that moment that everything started rushing back. No…he has to be stronger than that. There’s no way that he’s dead. Not my brother, Skye thought to herself as she rushed over to his side. For as long as she could remember, Omari had always protected her. From the time they were abandoned by their parents up till now, it was always the two of them fending for themselves. From early childhood and into adulthood, he had always played the role of big brother to her, only seldom did she ever have the chance to pay him back for all that he done for her.
“Omari! Omari!” Skye said as she franticly checked the vital signs of her brother. He remained unresponsive though she felt a pulse along his neck. Come on, come on! Gently, Skye rolled him to his back and placed her head on Omari’s chest. His breathing was virtually non-existent but a faint beat echoed against her eardrum. “Thank God!” she said as she exhaled in relief before placing her hands over Omari. Skye grunted as her hands began to faintly glow underneath her black gloves as they hovered over her brother’s heart. Come on, Omari. Pull through, Skye thought as she expended her life force into him, draining her further. In all of her years, she had never been pushed this far. As she reflected on the events of the day, she realized that without counting Omari and Emil, she had nursed upwards of thirty people. With every bit that she gave to them, she lost part of herself. In her experience, she learned that regular humans were infinitely easier. All she had to do was jump-start the healing process and they would be on their way. Sicknesses and minor injuries could be dismissed with a simple touch or passing glance. Yes, overall, humans were much simpler, but never was she placed in the middle of a massacre, actively defending herself and tending to those who no longer could. Cuts and scrapes were a threat she had exceptional experience in. Whether it was a minor wound from a blade or a bruise from an ill-taken fall, she had always been resourceful. The
only things that stressed her were mortal wounds and attacks of unique properties. Silvia, for instance, taxed her reasonably, even though she only healed three people that day. The unique makeup up of Silvia’s toxin required more effort to cleanse the body of her influence. Since that day, Skye had made great progress, practicing the art of balancing her energy and using it more effectively in combat with the help of her brother and Emil, but even with the training she had endured, as she gazed over the fallen, she realized it was not enough.
There’s no way I can heal them all, Skye thought as she continued to pour her energy into her brother, whose condition had only slightly improved from her time with him. Just a bit more. Skye’s heart sank as she felt more and more exhausted with every second that passed. With so many wounded, so many bleeding and dying silently, she realized that many of the villagers would fail to see tomorrow. If their condition was like Omari’s, they were still alive, though hanging by a thread. If they were to die, it would be by their previous injuries. “Come on, Omari! I can’t do this without you!” Skye pleaded to her brother as she devoted more of herself to him. “You’ve got to come through!” Skye’s vision grew hazy as she continued to channel her remaining energy into Omari’s body. No matter what, she knew she couldn’t quit. Not now, not when everyone was counting on her. For a moment Skye redirected her attention to Emil who also lay still on the ground. Skye cursed herself for making the choice that should have been un-makeable. To save one while the other died was far from the scenario she wanted. With every second that Omari grew stronger, Emil’s condition was at risk. She had taken a chance by going with her brother first, knowing that Emil’s restorative abilities were considerably higher than any Abnormal she had ever seen. From the night of the vision, to Omari’s tales of their bout with Silvia, and even today, Emil had bounced back from blows that would have otherwise been fatal. It was a gamble, but who else was she to choose rather than her own flesh and blood? Regardless of her decision, the guilt would be there. “Don’t worry, Emil,” Skye whispered. “I’m coming for you next. Just hold on.”
All Things Eternal (The Last Light Book 2) Page 4