Squire

by Payton Cavallo

  Damir his hand back, electricity connecting the two of them like some demented bond. He looked down on him as if he was nothing more than another object to him, to be killed and destroyed.

  Craeft writhed on the ground for what felt like an eternity, before Damir stopped. Craeft gulped in air, his lungs struggling to work as he greedily took in the life-giving oxygen. He looked up at the man, his back turned towards him. The squire tried grasping for his swerdan, but his muscles wouldn’t comply, small contractions running throughout every cell.

  It didn’t stop him from spotting his savior though.

  “That is enough.” Veliane said, her swerdan held defensively in front of her. Behind her was a barrier spell, barrius motus if he remembered right. Damir cradled his right arm, and Craeft could see a blood covered blade piece nearby. She must have wounded him with it.

  Clever.

  “More of you vermin.” Damir spat out. “I’m sick of this constant hindrance.” As he spoke, a black portal opened up, the strange crow man that Craeft had seen before stepping out of it. “Ah, it seems this may be over even quicker.” A small smile crossed his face. “I assume the Valentinovich family has been extinguished then?”

  “The Valentinovich family lives.” A voice that was decidedly not that of the strange figure echoed out, the crow man collapsing. Twin axes stuck out of his back, his cousin Cenric bending over to yank them out, a slightly wet noise filling the room as he did so. “Can’t say the same for your crow faced friend and his pet Lusus. Of course, I took care of him myself. Couldn’t let him get away after he tried to murder me and my comrades with that monster of his.”

  Damir didn’t utter a word.

  “If you surrender quietly, we’ll take you in.” Veliane said. “I doubt that’ll happen though, will it?” She sneered.

  Damir hands shook as he glared at them, sparks flying from his palms. “You all have brought me to a level of anger that I never felt before.” He clenched his fists. “Death is too good for you. I will electrocute all of you till you are completely cooked from the inside out.”

  Craeft’s hand found his swerdan and he lurched forward, his muscles listening to him as he made to cut down Damir.

  It didn’t work. He turned just in time to move out of the way. But by doing that, he had moved into the way of Veliane’s spell work, and his cousin’s flames. Condensed bursts of fire forced him further and further back as Veliane attempted to encage Damir in her barriers.

  And the battle began anew.

  Damir flung himself at Veliane, quickly weaving himself around the spikes of ice that Craeft sent his way, sparks flying off his hands as he sought to kill her. He ducked underneath a fireball and landed on a barrier she had created, another barrius motus spell. Damir’s eyes widened briefly before he was flung back, slamming into one of the pews as the momentum from the spell forced him backwards. It managed to do little to him, his electrical armor crackling as it took most of the damage, but it was enough to allow him to be hit by a burst of flames from Cenric.

  “You like that?” The teen smirked as he kept up the heat, Damir quickly moving away as the flames sought him out. “Last time we met, you talked about adding me to your kill count? Well, what about now?” A glint of steel caught his eye and Cenric jumped to his right, out of the blades path. On the knives return to its master, Cenric’s cheek was grazed. He yelled a profanity and pressed his hand to the wound.

  “It’s only a matter of time.” Damir replied as he began to fling his knives all over the surrounding area, before pulling them to himself. “I am stronger, faster, and smarter than you. You may be squires, and I’ll commend you for that, but to me, you’re nothing. Just a bunch of children interfering with things they don’t understand.”

  Several of the knives surrounded Veliane, the girl looking distraught as she quickly raised a Barrius spell to block them. The blades grinded against the magical shield, seeking to comply with their masters wishes and skewer her. Craeft could see the concentration on her face as the dome like shield strained under the assault, a few cracks starting to show as they tore into it.

  He acted quickly, running forward while Cenric distracted Damir and grabbed them. He forced his own magic into the knives, the metal whining as it chilled and grew brittle. They resisted him, resisted his magic, but in the end, it could not save them as they cracked and shattered, the strain too much for them to bare.

  “Thanks Craeft.” She muttered, swaying slightly from the amount of magic she had just expended. Craeft felt the same, his ice armor starting to take its toll. But he refused to let up, refused to not go all out against Damir, and judging by the expression on Veliane’s face, neither would she.

  If they didn’t, the man would surely end their lives.

  Craeft would never allow it.

  Veliane was quick to return the favor, using her barrius motus to launch herself at blinding speeds towards Damir. She was quick, as was he, but she was quicker. Her swerdan bit into his side, and he grunted as he clutched the wound, a bit of blood oozing out of it. He quickly grew to know the feeling of her sword cutting into his flesh as she repeated the process several times, her form a blur as she struck him.

  She made to strike him once more, but was not quick enough to dodge Damir as he touched her leg with a bit of his electricity, causing it to spasm as she rolled across the floor, the speed she was at causing her to tumble across the cold tile. A sickening crack was heard as she slammed into one of the pews, Veliane letting out a cry of pain as she clutched her arm, the elbow bent at an awkward angle.

  Cenric grunted as he used controlled bursts of flames out of his feet and hands to push himself out of the way of the knives. It didn’t seem to be working too well, as Damir maneuvered himself around the squire, his magnetism forcing the knives to obey as they followed him, attempting to impale Cenric on the way to their master.

  A few barriers took care of that. Cenric sent a thankful nod Veliane’s way, the girl having recovered some strength as she shakily stood up, and he produced a truly large amount of flames from his hands. Damir tried to move out of the way, but found his feet frozen to the floor. Craeft had taken advantage of his opponent’s distraction, and forced Damir to be still if only for a moment.

  He snarled as he disintegrated the ice, but Craeft noticed it was slower than before. A moment or two longer, and the previously vivacious lightning that coursed around his form was beginning to get dimmer, as if the electricity itself was getting tired.

  It seemed their opponent wasn’t too far ahead of them when it came to magical exhaustion, despite how much of a monster he seemed to be.

  Damir simply wasn’t quick enough. The ice, even having held him down for a few moments, was long enough for Cenric’s attack to reach him. It didn’t burn like the fires before, seeking to consume everything in the flames. No, this attack was more condensed, more volatile, and seemed to take all of Cenric’s might to perform.

  The result was much like an explosion, the pressured flames bursting forth from his hands in a path of bright red destruction.

  The assailant rolled across the floor, each impact slamming him against the hard tile. The lightning barrier that kept any harm from his body flickered for a few moments before giving out entirely. A loud crackle was heard, like a lightning bolt slamming into the world below the clouds as the second layer of armor gave out entirely.

  He stood up, his knees quivering underneath him. Craeft slowly walked forward, taking in his opponents form as he held his swerdan in his hands. The entire right side of Damir’s face was heavily burnt, flesh bubbling and oozing from Cenric’s blow. His right arm was burnt as well, but he could see the man moving it despite the pain, despite the agony it must be causing him to even twitch it. His one good eye was filled with hatred, his teeth bared in a grimace as he stood up.

  Then he smiled.

  Warning bells went off in Craeft’s head as he saw that, and he turned as heard the whistling in the air. The knives that hadn’t b
een destroyed by the squire’s freezing abilities were behind Cenric, slowly crawling towards their master before flying off in a path, clearly intending to return to Damir. Cenric noticed, but too late as despite the bursts of flame coming out of his feet, he barely managed to maneuver out of the way.

  He screamed in agony as the knives cut into his legs, falling to the ground as he writhed. Cenric clutched his bloodied legs, rolling on the floor as his hands found their way to the handles, attempting to pull them out. Damir simply twitched his fingers slightly, and the knives moved, still stuck in Cenric’s wounds. He roared at the blade’s movement, seeking to rip them out of him to spare him the pain, but to no avail as Damir kept them buried inside him.

  “You all are like bugs,” He glanced dispassionately at Cenric, as if he were an insect before him. “always wanting to get in my way, always wanting to disturb me. And here, you are, on the ground like one.”

  “Even bugs are better than you.” Veliane replied as she slowly moved towards Cenric, her right arm hanging limply at her side. Craeft didn’t know if she knew any healing techniques, but anything was better than letting his cousin slowly bleed out onto the ground. “At least they do something for their environment. All you do is destroy.”

  “You say that like destroying the Valentinovichs would be bad.” Damir strode forward, confidence in every step. “Besides, I see myself as more of a pruner, cutting off the bad parts of the plant so that it can grow the way it was meant to, with proper design.”

  “And you wonder why I refused to join you.” Craeft spoke up, starting to wheeze slightly as the long use of the ice armor took its toll. He refused to let it down though, lest he end up like his cousin, hit by an attack he couldn’t block.

  Damir shrugged, wincing at the pain in his right arm. “It doesn’t matter now. With my associate gone, it makes the situation far more difficult. I’ll just kill you all, bide my time, and wait. I’ll use the time to my advantage and train, becoming even stronger, and simply let them believe me gone. Let them believe I’ve moved on, or simply disappeared. And then I’ll strike again, this time, without the need of that man.”

  “And you’ll be cut down by those knights who you were too cowardly to face.” Craeft growled out. “You sent your associate there, to face the knights all by himself, leaving him to fend for himself. Leaving him to die, after all he did for you.”

  “Don’t you dare say that.” Damir snarled. “I am no coward. I simply sent him to soften them up before I arrived.”

  “So you say, but when he arrived, you thought he had won. That he had done all the dirty work for you.” Craeft tightened the grip on his sword, anger tinging his tone. “That’s why you strike from the shadows, why you can’t do anything on your own. Every one of us has a team, and we are trained to be a team. You accomplished nothing on your own, even your first assassination of one of the Valentinovichs was done during the Lusus invasion.” Craeft shook his head. “I may be a bastard, one who is seen as worthless, but at least I am no coward.”

  Craeft only had a moment to react before Damir jolted forward, his knife sliding across his swerdan, the man’s face full of nothing but rage.

  “Don’t you dare say that. After all I’ve done, after all I’ve worked for, don’t you dare call me a coward.” Damir pressed downward on the knife, the steel groaning under the struggle against the swerdan. “I have worked hard to get where I am, to get to this-“

  “To get to where you’re killing innocents?” Craeft threw him off, the man dodging as Veliane launched another projectile at him using her barriers.

  “None of them are innocent. They are all guilty, and if you weren’t so stupid, you would’ve helped me instead of fight against me.” Damir threw himself back into the fight, slashing and cutting against Craeft’s blade. The squire could see Veliane trying to aim out of the corner of his eyes, but with them being so close, what she fired could easily hit Craeft instead. “All of this, for some glory, some sense of self satisfaction. You’re nothing but a sniveling worm, begging for more from your noble masters, asking for more to be heaped upon you because you have no sense of worth.”

  “You’re wrong.” Craeft backed away as the knife slid dangerously close to his hand. “I do it because it’s what I signed up to do.” He glanced towards Veliane, his one true friend. “They depend on me to help them, save them from the monsters that attack our cities. And from the monsters in them.”

  “And you’ll fail them.” Damir pressed down, Craeft struggling to push the man back. “You’ll fail them as you’ll die here and now, with no one to remember you. You’ll be remembered as the squire that failed to protect a noble, and the squire that had no honor, no glory. A nothing useless person.”

  “Even so, I’d still be better than you.” Craeft replied.

  “Hollow words from someone who is about to die.” Damir slammed his knife against the sword once more. “I can feel it. You’re getting weaker, your blows slower, and your resistance is starting to falter. That ice surrounding your body must take a lot out of you, right? I see that even squires and knights can still feel the pain of magical exhaustion.”

  Then Damir did something Craeft never thought he’d do. He dropped the knife. The pressure that Craeft had put on his blade caused him to lose his balance and lurch forward. He felt Damir’s hand land on his chest plate, and the ice sizzled for a moment before his world became nothing but pain as he felt the electricity course through him.

  Craeft felt to the ground, writhing underneath the electrical magic, and Damir landed on top of him. He picked up the knife and held it above his head, ready to plunge it down into Craeft’s heart.

  “R-run.” He looked towards Veliane, Craeft’s jaw barely working as his speech slurred. “R-run away!” She didn’t need to see this, see him die. She should be able to flee and live to fight another day.

  ‘I’m sorry mom.’ Craeft felt tears begin to build up in his eyes as the knife seemed to slowly descend.

  “You put up a good fight, squire. But now it’s over. Goodbye.”

  The knife drew closer.

  “Get away from him!”

  Veliane screamed out, her eyes wide with hatred and terror. She had created another barrier, launching another piece of the broken blade at Damir, but it seemed that he had vented enough of his magical core to create a small bit of that electrical armor from before. The damage was minimal, an annoyance, but enough to grab the man’s attention.

  “Veliane…” Craeft whispered out, his eyes wide. She had tried to save him, even when he had told her to flee, to save her own life.

  And yet, he had nearly given in.

  “Wait your turn. I know you vermin wish to put up a fight before I end your miserable existence, but you will have to give me a moment. Once I’m done with him, then you can join him in the eternal fields.” Damir said as he brought the knife down.

  Only for Craeft to grab him by the wrist.

  “You won’t…You won’t lay a hand on her!” Craeft felt his core burn and ache as he created another layer of icy armor around himself, the agony welling up inside his chest as it burned horribly. It didn’t matter though. The only thing that mattered in that single instant was taking on Damir with everything he had.

  The electricity met his ice, burning his arms as he clenched the man’s wrists. It was a battle of wills, his freezing magic meeting the assailant’s white-hot lightning magic, the two opposing forces colliding against each other like two primordial foes locked in combat. Craeft ignored the pain, ignored the burns forming on his arms as he pressed onward, clenching with all his might on his opponent’s wrists. The ice sizzled as it was instantly destroyed by Damir’s lightning armor and recreated by Craeft, but the squire refused to give in.

  He pushed the knife away from himself, bending Damir’s wrist to a dangerous degree, and with a twist, a snap echoed across the room.

  Damir roared as he clutched his broken wrist, recoiling back as Craeft forced him off him. The squire sha
kily stood up as he summoned his swerdan to his hand and used it as a crutch, leaning on it as he stood. The pain in his chest was still there, but it was bearable.

  “You…” Damir snarled as he clutched his wrist. “I’ll never forget this.” He made to flee, but another blade piece from another one of Veliane’s barrius motus spell hit him in the knee. He roared and fell to the ground, his electrical armor having failed him as it gave out, the blade piece digging deep into his knee. He writhed on the ground, blood spilling out of the fresh wound.

  “You’re right. You won’t.” She made to move forward and end him, swerdan in hand, before an outstretched arm from Craeft stopped her. “What?”

  “G-grab Cenric.” Craeft felt blood in his mouth, but he swallowed the iron tasting fluid back down. He would not worry his teammate. Not when he had the scumbag to deal with. “He needs help more than I do.” He glanced at his cousin. He was barely conscious, but he was still bleeding heavily. He’d need to see a healer, and soon. “I’ll deal with him.”

  Veliane looked hesitant, before she nodded and ran over to Cenric. Craeft stumbled forward, leaning on his sword as he grew closer and closer to Damir.

  “Stay back!” Damir held up his hand, sparks flying along it. But there was barely any magic coming off of him. Just like those sparks, he had nothing more than a few last petering embers of his magic, his core too overused to produce anymore.

  Craeft ignored the man’s words as he drew closer. As he stood in front of him, he straightened up. The pain was still constant, the throbbing ache in his chest along with the burning from his magical core spreading agony throughout his body, but he ignored it as he lifted his swerdan up high.

  “I hate you all so much.” Damir ground out through gritted teeth. “Go ahead. Do it. End me. Obey your masters like a good little mogon.”

  Craeft couldn’t care less about the man’s words. Though he found himself hesitant at actually ending his life. He had never killed someone before, never taken a life. But as he looked at the piece of trash that had dared to hurt so many innocents over his own personal issues, he found the will to go through with it.