Everything had started with the sword. If she didn’t touch it, then they wouldn’t have been transported to the battlefield. The war might have been lost quicker and the world doomed faster, but she would have been able to see the end with Jerome. The sword had been the catalyst for everything, if only she hadn’t demanded that they find it.
Her head shot up with the thought. The sword had been the catalyst. It was her that had insisted they find it. Because the sword was the one thing that could defeat the demons and tip the balance back towards the side of good. When she was reading the prophecy for the hundredth time, she had realized everything centered around the sword, stolen from Cadmus so long ago.
She looked over Jerome’s body at the piece of metal. From Cadmus’s hand a weapon was taken. It looked just as lifeless in his hand as he did. A sword forged from precious metal. Surely something made out of ordinary iron couldn’t be the item that saved the world. The battle to end all pain and sorrow. It didn’t look important enough, it was just an object. For once and all will finally settle.
It was just an object, but it would be powerful in the right hands. One mortal shall have all the power. When she had touched the sword, something had happened. It had recognized her, responded to her. She could end it. She could be the one to end it all. She had the power to tip the balance back, snatch it away from the demons and the evil of hell. If they choose to meet the call. All Leila had to do was choose to meet the call.
It sounded so simple, she just had to agree and she could end everything. All the pain and suffering, all the screams of hurt from the angels surrounding her. She could do something about it. Her. Leila. The Dark Night.
In that instant, everything became clear. Leila was the one and she needed to fight. She needed to step up and meet the call. She could do it, she had all the power. The demons were nothing against the one mortal that was born purely for this moment. She was placed on Earth to save it, so save it she shall.
Leila grabbed the sword out of Jerome’s hand. She stood, using all her strength not to collapse over Jerome again. She needed to fight and she needed to do it for him. He had made the ultimate sacrifice so that the world had a chance, she owed him. The entire world and everyone in it owed him.
Without another moment’s hesitation, Leila looked around and surveyed the scene. Demons were everywhere, if they weren’t engaged in battle then they were looking for their next victim. With the amount of angels lying on the ground greater than those standing, there were plenty with idle hands.
But the demons were nothing when she spotted Septuses across the field. He stood at least eight foot tall, the horns on his head adding another six inches to his height. His eyes glowed red, shiny beacons in the sea of his ashen face.
If angels had a glow to them, a lightness that couldn’t be described, then Septuses had the exact opposite. There was something dark about him, an evil aura you could not see but feel. He made the skin on Leila’s arm crawl and prickle with goose pimples. She dreaded even going near him, but she knew she had to. Someone was pulling the strings of the demons and it had to be him.
She started running, determination set on her face. She sprinted at Septuses, ignoring everything else that was going on around her. Being so small in comparison to the angels, she was able to slip through the fighting masses. She ducked and weaved, never taking her eyes off her goal.
Leila had never run so fast in her life. She was so focused on getting to Septuses that she didn’t notice the stitch in her ribs. Several times she slipped on the blood on the grass but it didn’t slow her down. The sword didn’t even feel heavy in her hands. The rage and grief inside of her was fuelling her forward, regardless of everything else.
As she drew closer to Septuses, her nostrils were filled with the stench of him. She had smelt dead bodies before, it was a terrible consequence of living through the downfall of a country, and he definitely smelt like death. Her instinct was to vomit with the smell, her stomach churned as the aroma overpowered her. She switched to breathing through her mouth, refusing to be dissuaded. She couldn’t stop now, she was too close and there was no other option except to keep going.
Before she knew it, Septuses was right in front of her. His skin was covered in scabs, like he was in the process of decaying himself. His legs weren’t like a humans, they were more like an animal’s standing on its haunches. He was ghastly, absolutely disgusting.
He saw Leila as she raised the sword to land her first blow. She set aside her fear, leaving it for another day. Right now, she had to be brave, she was the one who was supposed to fight him. So fight him she shall. With Jerome gone, she didn’t have anything else to lose.
The sword collided with Septuses’s abdomen. She could barely reach any higher. It sliced through his dry skin, leaving a trail of red as hot as the sun. He grunted, barely even feeling any pain register from the wound. He lunged for her, trying to take the sword from her hands. If he got the right grip on the weapon, she wouldn’t be able to fight against his strength and it would be his. But she had no intention of allowing that to happen. Leila twisted away from him just in time, spinning around to protect the sword. She took a blow to the back for her efforts. It momentarily took the air from her lungs, but she didn’t let it panic her. Instead, she gritted her teeth and turned around for another blow.
She aimed higher, trying to slice through his arm to stop him being able to use it against her. The blade collided with his forearm, splitting the skin apart. This blow, he did feel. A shriek escaped his mouth, a low and warning sound that was truly chilling. With it came another wave of the stench as his breath flowed around her.
Leila didn’t stop to notice, she raised the sword again and aimed higher. She brought it down on Septuses’s shoulder. It made him angry, his eyes glowed brighter and fixated on her. Suddenly, his wounds didn’t seem to matter, he was intent on destroying the human and he concentrated solely on killing her.
His arms wrapped her, Leila found herself trapped in his horrible embrace. She kicked at every part of him she could reach but couldn’t manage to get the sword free. He squeezed her, making it difficult to breathe. She could feel her eyes bulging like she was a balloon that was about to pop. She had to get free or her time was up. She lashed out, kicking and hitting harder than she ever thought possible. Only half the time did her feet connect with his body. Nothing seemed to hurt Septuses, nothing seemed to faze him. All her efforts seemed to only be tiring her. She needed a better plan.
With both her feet together, Leila gave one almighty kick to the demon. She put all her remaining strength behind it, praying it would be enough to surprise him. She just needed him to relax his grip for a moment to give her a chance. She waited, barely able to gasp for air.
He yelped with the sudden pain. She was only forgotten for a second but it was all she needed. Leila wriggled free from his grip and crumpled onto the ground. With the sword never leaving her hand, she immediately stood up and faced Septuses again. He didn’t dwell on his pain, he was ready to fight again.
And so was Leila. She lunged at him without thinking, he ducked out of her way. The heavy sword just swung at empty air. She raised it again straight away, ready to end it all.
Septuses took a swipe at her, his five inch talons stretched across her shoulder. The pain was immense, it sent shockwaves through her body as she started to bleed. It ripped her top to shreds, like four perfect knife blades had been pulled though the fabric. The pain registered in her brain, but she desperately tried to ignore it. The warning signals were all on high alert in her body but she put them all on silent. She could deal with the fallout later, now she needed to keep going.
The demon laughed at her, licking his talons and tasting her blood. The smirk across his face was pure evil, he delighted in hurting her. He wasn’t even trying, she was merely a plaything to him. Like a cat swatting at a butterfly, he wasn’t worried by her presence.
But he should have been. Leila wasn’t a butterfly, she wasn’t a
n ordinary human. She was the one Tiresias had dreamed of, predicted she would have the ability to settle the war. She took exactly five seconds to bounce back and summon her courage. She raised the sword and ran at him, not taking any prisoners.
Septuses reared up and growled. He fell on all fours, charging at her just as quickly but with twice as much force. Leila didn’t stop, she didn’t even hesitate. She held Cadmus’s sword above her head with both hands and prepared herself for the impact. Only one of them was going to leave the battlefield and she vowed it was going to be her.
She took one last look at those horrible red eyes that stared at her with pure hatred and evil intent and brought down the sword. She twisted the blade at the last moment, Septuses didn’t have a chance to register the change. The sharp iron blade sliced through his neck. The last thing Leila remembered was seeing his head as it toppled to the ground and his body as it fell lifeless a good three feet away.
She slumped to the ground, her energy expended. She still gripped the sword in her right hand, but it was now covered in blood. It dripped down the blade, covering her hand as it reached the hilt. She stared at the demon, waiting for him to somehow get up and start attacking her again. Surely it couldn’t be over, surely she couldn’t have won. Whenever she pictured the end, she didn’t think it could end like that. Never once during the fight did she truly believe she would be the victor, she had just hoped that she would cause enough damage for the angels to have a chance.
Septuses’s body twitched as blood oozed from the stump that used to hold his head. She watched until it grew still, the final piece of life leaving him.
Leila wanted to be as far away from the demon as possible. She thought of Jerome and wanted to be near him. She wanted to tell him she had done it. She had succeeded and she did it all for him. She avenged his death, he didn’t die for nothing.
She stood and looked around, for the first time becoming conscious of what was going on around her. She had blocked it all out when she was fighting Septuses. Now, she could barely believe what she was seeing.
All the demons were running. They moved like a black cloud across the battlefield, hurrying towards the side of evil. They had completely forgotten about the battle, retreating back to the depths of hell from which they came.
That only left the angels to stand around and wonder what was going on. They only had to glance at the body of Septuses on the ground in two parts to understand. Still, bewilderment flowed through them, across their faces and in their stance.
Leila watched them, her own confusion reflecting theirs. She scanned the battlefield, the lumps of white laying on the ground reminding her of how many angels had fallen victim to the demons. She suddenly saw the one in particular that she loved so much. She started running, dropping the sword at her side and forgetting all about it.
Jerome was still lying motionless on the ground, exactly where she had left him. He looked like he was asleep like all the times she had seen him before. How many times had she awoken in the middle of the night because of a bad dream, turned over, and watching his eyelids flutter with his own dreams? How many times had that image make her lips curl into a smile? But now there was nothing. Everything had been taken away from her by the demons.
“Jerome!” The male voice came from behind her.
Leila jumped around quickly, her first thought was that the demons had returned. She figured she would probably think every noise would be the demons returning for a long time. Perhaps they would actually return.
A large angel crouched down beside her, his hands on Jerome’s chest. He was covered in wounds himself, claw marks scarring his body. Despite his own injuries, tears were starting to well in his eyes over his friend.
“Who are you?” Leila asked.
“My name is Alexander and this is my friend.” He turned to her for the first time, barely registering her before. “You’re human. What are you doing here?”
“Jerome is my friend too.”
“You didn’t answer me.”
Leila didn’t want to answer him. She didn’t want to get Jerome in trouble for bringing her there. As absurd as the thought was, especially when he wasn’t even there anymore to be chastised, she still wanted to protect him. Just like he did for her.
Alexander changed tactics, sensing he would get nowhere with the human. “What is your name?”
“Leila.”
“Your shoulder is hurt.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“I can see you care about Jerome, but we need to move him quickly.”
She panicked, she didn’t want the angel taking him anywhere, especially not away from her. He may have said he was a friend, but she had no way of knowing that. The world was engaged in a war, you couldn’t trust anyone. In her experience, it was usually the nice ones that wanted to stab you in the back when you least suspected it.
“You can’t take him anywhere,” she insisted, gripping his arm to show she meant business. In reality, she would be no match for the angel without her sword, but she didn’t care. She would fight to the end. For Jerome.
“We need to get him away from here in case they come back. He really needs some medicine.” Alexander was already standing, working out the best way to carry Jerome. “You’re injured too, your shoulder needs attention.”
“He’s dead.” Leila let her tears flow freely down her cheeks, still refusing to let go of him. She didn’t care about her own injuries, she was numb to everything else except her grief.
“He’s not dead, he’s sick. Which is why we need to get him out of here.”
She didn’t know what to do. As much as she wanted to believe him, her eyes wouldn’t let her. Jerome wasn’t moving, he wasn’t breathing, there was no life left in him. Alexander must be delusional, unable to accept the truth even though it was right before his eyes.
“He’s gone,” she sobbed. “You can’t help him.”
Alexander propped Jerome up, slipping one arm underneath his back and the other under his knees. With one heave, he lifted him to his chest and started walking. He completely ignored the human’s attempts to stop him.
“I can help him. You can come along if you want to but we’re not staying here a moment longer,” he said as he walked, not even slowing to wait for her decision.
Leila waited for a whole second before hurrying after him. She didn’t agree with him or particularly like him, but she wasn’t ready to leave Jerome yet. There was still that one little hope within her that he might be right. Perhaps he could heal Jerome and bring him back from the dead. It was a long shot, but she wanted to believe it anyway.
If Alexander was alone, he would have flown back to the village and to the hostel where he lived. However, he could hear the human plodding along behind and he knew she wouldn’t be able to follow if he did. She was attached to Jerome and he would probably be attached to her too, knowing him like he did. He would appreciate it if he looked after her until he could recover enough to do it himself. Plus, there was that oath to protect humans he took, after all.
They left the battlefield and briskly walked into town. There were no further words uttered until they were inside the hostel and Jerome was placed on the lounge in the common area. If Leila was in awe at her surroundings, she didn’t mention it. She was focused on only one thing and that was keeping up with the angel who carried her angel.
“What are you going to do to him?” She asked as she watched him fuss about the hostel. He seemed to be looking for something, opening up cupboard doors and looking in various jars.
“He needs medicine, I’m going to give it to him. As soon as I find it, anyway. It’s got to be here somewhere, we couldn’t have run out.”
Leila let him go and knelt down beside Jerome. Her shoulder was stabbing with pain, but she ignored it. She placed her hand in his and squeezed. He was cold, she couldn’t see or feel any life in him. She started to grow angry with herself. The last words they had spoken were during an argument. She had yelled at
him that he was wrong, that she wasn’t the one that could stop the war. But he had been right. She had screamed at him and he was the one that was right.
“I’m so sorry, Jerome,” she whispered. She stroked the hair from his face, his beautiful dark hair. She wished she could take it all back, every single word from the argument. How many times had he told her she just needed to have faith? She should have had more faith.
She kissed his forehead, not nearly ready to say goodbye. Alexander’s search was getting louder and louder as his frustrations grew. Leila tuned him out, just focusing on the angel she loved.
“I’ve got it.” Alexander hurried back in holding a bottle filled with liquid. “We need to get this into him quickly or it will be too late.”
“He’s dead, you’re just making it worse.”
“He will be dead if he doesn’t get this medicine.” He opened the bottle. Whatever was inside smelt pungent, like it had been sifted from a rotten creek bed. “Hold open his mouth while I pour it in.”
“I’m not doing that.” Leila stood, horrified he couldn’t see the truth. She stood in front of Jerome protectively, unwilling to move. “He’s gone, we have to accept that.”
“If you don’t move, then I will move you. Either way, I am doing this,” Alexander stared at her, trying to keep his voice steady. “You have to believe I am trying to help Jerome. You have to have faith.”
Those words, the ones Jerome had said to her too many times to count. Perhaps he was a friend of his, perhaps he was trying to bring him back to life. She nodded slowly, trying to have faith, and stepped aside.
“Good. Now hold his mouth open.”
Leila did as she was told and gently pulled Jerome’s mouth open. She hated every second of it, those lips reminding her of the kiss they had shared. That tender, beautiful kiss.
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