(Character image: Gwyneth Diana Raven)
Fire.
The smell of burning stings my nose and soot cloaks my skin. Screams and shouts ricochet off the marble walls and red stains the floor.
All my senses heighten and adrenaline finally kicks in. As the arrows dipped in flames shoot into the room I'm in, I crouch down behind a worn-out couch and assess the situation.
So; I'm in the highest level of a burning building that is a few minutes from collapsing, we have been surrounded by faeries that are trying to kill us and I only have three more arrows left in my quilt. I do have quite a few throwing knives and my double blades strapped across my back but I don't think they will do any good if angry-flying faeries are raining Amon upon us. Even if Yrene specially enchanted the blades with tons of different spells I can't be bothered to remember. I think she said something about 'safety and precaution against evil' but I just think she wanted to test out some new protection spells.
I sigh.
And by us, I mean the Nocens. My friends. My family. Closer, actually. Family by choice, not by blood...Except for that prick Nyx. He's the bastard out of all of us. Sometimes I want to throttle him until I see his eyes roll back and lips turn blue. But of course, I can't do that. Only then, I'd have the rest of my friends to answer to. And as much as I hate to admit it (I do hate to say this), he is vital to our little group of bandits. Despite the situation, I find myself smiling at the thought of pissing him off. Anyway, I'm not here to talk about that egoistic idiot. I have better things to do. Like, for example, save people from a burning building and kill about one hundred seething faeries.
Sighing, I roll back my shoulders and smirk. Let's show these faeries what real fire looks like. I strap my bow across my back again and adjust the hem of my battle dress.
It's a muted grey dress that reaches just above my knees and is designed to be as flashy as possible. It also has multiple pockets to house a variety of weapons and stuff. Some might say it's unnecessary but I like to think that my enemies know who they're up against when they see a gorgeous dress with a black trench coat with a lot of weapons attached to it. Know that it's a fallen angel that they messed with. And where I'm from, I like to be just. Very, very, just.
The thought turns my smirk into a grin and with that, I summon my flames. The cold blue starts as a tiny ember in both my palms and grows into a crackling ball of moonfire.
Standing up, I face the window the faeries are attacking from and thrust fireball after fireball at them. Yeah faeries, you can feel that cold burn can't you?
Taking the pause in the ambush as a sign that they weren't ready for that, I shout across the room to Valaeri-a charming versipllis who is my second and basically my sister. She is busily ripping into a tiny faery with fair skin and unearthly green eyes.
"Hey Val! Send a signal to the rest of the squad to evacuate the building as quickly as possible and I'll take care of the rest!"
With that, the busybody faeries decide to strike again so I wave a shield of pure blue fire around me with a flickering of my wrist. From the corner of my eye, I see the shapeshifter's huge grey wolf form ripple with sheer power and leap to the top of the building with ease.
Satisfied, I pull out two identical blades and stride to the edge of the windowsill.
Suddenly a beautiful woman-no a godsdamned faery- leaps at me with an ancient blade arched above her head. I defect the ambush with a simple swipe of my arm and settle into a comfortable fighting stance- as I have done thousands of times before. Exchanging attacks for blocks, I slowly feel myself slip into the steady rhythm of battling again. Oh, how good it feels to be back. You see, fighting is a special type of dance. You twirl, swing, and move your body in beautifully deadly ways and it is mesmerizing to watch. Even more so to do yourself.
