FATE\Deus Decipit

Chapter 28: Gold and Glass

11:35pm, A Mall in Glyfada

Monica sat under the counter staring at the brilliant golden blade that sat in her hands; a blade formed from nothing. Chrysaor's swords were short and without guards, more like stakes than any formal weapon, but this was a proper longsword nearly the length of her arm and appeared as if from a distant fantasy. The hilt was banded with glowing blue currents of light which transitioned up into a diamond that connected to the blade with engravings like ocean waves that ran parallel up the center. The guard took the form of twin wings with each feather sculpted in excruciating detail. The whole ensemble could only be described as beautiful, containing infinite grace within it. It was light, too light for an object of its size, like a feather. The appearance of the blade and the feeling of the cold metal in her hands wormed its way through her mind and body, bringing every aspect of herself to ease and, more importantly, to focus.

She felt the sword in her grip. She didn't think, she only intuited. She felt with her mind, with her gut, and with her heart. She had no thoughts, only sensations. A sense of what was happening, of what could happen, and what she ought to do next.

She took a deep breath.

She controlled her breathing.

She minimized her presence; her awareness of herself.

She extended her focus to the environment.

The counter. The shop. The plaza outside.

And she waited.

Moments passed.

Minutes passed.

And she felt it.

She felt the glass of the shop's display vibrate.

She heard it resonate.

And she pounced.

She grabbed the top of the counter from where she was and pulled herself over with strength she didn't possess, landing firmly on the other side with the blade bared towards the far door.

She couldn't help but be surprised.

There was a girl there, shorter than her, perhaps younger as well, but obviously something other than human. Her skin was soft in the night light, like a polished river stone, a soft near-grey indigo. Her hair was close to her head, but curled like sheep's wool with long downward ears to match. She wore nothing but a long white sash that went around her neck and crossed her breasts, then continuing down behind her nearly to the floor. Her only other piece of clothing was the barest bikini bottom over her crotch. She held a steely expression and in her hand was the familiar crystalline dagger, marking her as the Assassin class Servant.

Monica shifted herself, moving to a wide, defensive stance with both hands across the hilt of her blade. She felt no panic. There was concern, but more so determination. She had forgotten any fear for herself. She breathed deeply, focusing all her attention on the movements of Assassin.

Assassin scanned the room with her eyes, no doubt looking for the missing Chrysaor, before her gaze circled back to the blade in Monica's hands. Her brow furrowed with vague understanding before she looked back to the girl with the golden blade, and, wasting no more time, lunged at her.

With the glass dagger in her left hand, she kept her body low to the ground as she closed the distance in less than a moment and jabbed her dagger up and under Monica's rib-cage.

With mastery unknown to her, Monica arced her sword down so that it slipped under the incoming dagger and swung vertically, sending the dagger and arm up and away with a metallic yet harmonious hum from her blade as they clashed. Shifting the sword into one hand she swung back down towards Assassin, who jumped back, landing in a cat-like prowl; making no noise.