Fate of the Blessed

Chapter 2

Amara

Two figures stepped out casually from the dilapidated fountain a few feet in front of me. I took a step back. One had ash coloured hair that flicked out from his face. His face bore a smouldering smile that didn't seem to reach his eyes. They were cold, dead. I took another step back. He smirked as his piercing red eyes stared into mine. It was like he was eying up his prey.

Oh, shit.

I held his gaze; I wanted him to know that he did not intimidate me, but my hands shook, betraying my sense of confidence. I wanted to move away from him. The fear inside me was growing stronger. His smile grew wider, but it still didn't reach his eyes.

"Hello, little bird, what is your name?" he asked innocently, but the intention behind it was much darker.

"Amara," I said, surprised that it came so easily. I hadn't wanted to give him my name, but I couldn't stop myself. Anxiety formed in the pit of my stomach. It consumed me the longer he stared. I tried to break eye contact, to no avail. It was like trying to move a mountain. The more I pushed, the less it moved.

Was he causing it?

"Are we lost?" Amusement rang out in his tone. My fists clenched and unclenched as I struggled to maintain my composure the smile on his lips grew wider and his eyes became wild. This was not the situation I wanted to be in.

"It's been a long time since we had a plaything."

Was he enjoying himself?

The one behind him took a stride towards me. His long dark ember locks framed his face, his dark brown, almost black, eyes held an evil glint. He was older, his looks sharper and more defined. He slowly lifted his right arm towards me, only to be shot down. I gaped in horror as my limbs failed to do my bidding. My mind was yelling at me to run, but my body wouldn't obey.

"No, Deimos, lets have some fun first." He never took his gaze from mine. The terror was palpable. What was their idea of "fun"? I couldn't speak with the distress that emanated through every pore of my body. My legs buckled under the pressure.

"Is she the one Aeron is looking for," Deimos asked. Phobos shrugged his shoulders?

"Who. Are. You?" I choked out. I needed to pull away or things were going to end badly.

"Well, I guess it's only fair you know my name, too. I'm Phobos, this is my brother Deimos." His taunting tone sent a chill up my spine.

"Deimos, why don't we give Amara a proper greeting." He said.

"Fuck. You."

His eyes blazed in anger; a hand whipped in front of my face, knocking me to the ground. The metallic tang of blood filled my mouth. A sinister smile spread across Phobos' lips as he lifted his hand again towards me. I flinched, waiting for whatever fresh hell he was going to inflict on me, but he instead waved it towards his brother. It was a signal.

Suddenly, my senses were overloading, it suffocated me. My lungs burned as I gasped for air. Tiny spots danced at the corners of my eyes. Don't let me lose consciousness. My breath became more frantic. I clawed at my throat, willing air to enter my lungs. I took in large gasps as I tried in vain.

Their laughs rang out in the distance. An upsurge of warmth flowed through my body. This had to be the end for me, but their sniggers changed into yelps of surprise. Time slowed down as I observed my hands to find them covered in an aura of blinding yellow light. Phobos' smirk had changed into a snarl.

I took another peek at my hands; I saw them glowing brighter as the dread left me. In a rapid flash, the entire street filled with a light as bright as the sun. Then it disappeared. I fell to the side, letting my head rest on the cobbles, welcoming the coldness. Exhaustion washed over me, like the light had sapped my strength. I lay there, not moving, panting.