Elora Van Eck | Kaz Brekker

SIX | CRIMSON BLADES

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content warning: blood, violence, death
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d u n y a s h a

TERRIFIED SCREAMS filled the room, and heads ducked to avoid flying objects. Throbbing heartbeats and blood pumping into ears, combined with the thickening air. It built a tension of terror, a sliced stomach revealing nothing but uncertainty.

A group of unknown men had burst into the bar, the great creaking door flying off its hinges by heavy arms. Two of them let glasses and ice cubes, bottles, and lemons fly around with simple hand movements and smash into wood and skulls. Innocent guests crashed into the walls, the cracking of ribs and spine sending a shiver through the healthy bones of each witness. Like the grinding of teeth magics goosebumps onto the soft skin of unaccustomed rich's – the nasty kind of disgust and shock that results.

Dunyasha's heart began to thud against her ribcage when she took awareness of who the group of men was headed for. Her gaze did not shift for even a split second when she spoke sternly, "Van Eck, stay behind me." Koralina and Marcus at her side shielded the girl who had no skills to defend herself.

Nobody knew who the men were after, only a guess could be taken. But it was without doubt one of the four youngsters, dangerous eyes having identified their target in one of them. And Elora would not survive such cruel attack without guard. Dunyasha knew, and not a thought of anyone else than the Van Eck offspring crossed her mind. Protect Elora. At that very moment, nothing else mattered. Her task was set, and she would not fail. Dunyasha Lazareva never failed.

With a swing of her arm, Koralina let one of the men sink to the ground. He gasped for air, but his throat was constricted. Marcus leaped forward and his fists skillfully battered the face of one of the attackers. Dunyasha pulled out her knife, dodging a chair that was meant to crush her skull. With light feet, she sprinted forward, her vision as steady as ever, and with one simple movement, her target's hand dropped to the ground, severed. "You chose the wrong person to throw chairs at," the girl spat in utter disgust for the cowardice ranged combat attack. A pained scream that surpassed all others made some of the men swallow hard. Dunyasha grinned maliciously at the sight of her blood-smeared blade.

To her, it was beautiful – the jewel to her dress of waywardness.

The stranger sank to the ground. His body bled dry, his large wound nothing less than fatal. Until finally, he passed out, his screams stilled, but Dunyasha was long off to the next.

"Kora, your mother!" Yelled Elora, the girl had taken time to analyze the situation and scan her surroundings. Her loud voice came sudden as she pushed her way through the human barrier not thinking twice about her doings. Her friends had not even had time to stop the girl before she ran towards the bar behind which Mrs. Fanning crouched, trying to defend herself with nothing more than a towel. In run, Elora grabbed a glass bottle filled with scotch from one of the tables she passed, and in the next second, the bar owner's attacker collapsed to Elora's feet. A large laceration adorned the back of his head and splinters of glass stuck to his hair.

"Are you okay? Are you injured?" Concern flowed through Elora's' every vein as she lowered herself to the floor to meet Mrs. Fanning's eyes. "Yes," the woman stuttered, "No," still in shock. A quick glance captured the unconscious man lying in a pool of his own blood before she trained her fear-filled eyes back onto Elora, "Yes, I'm fine. No, I am not injured. Thank you, dear." Elora nodded shortly and moved her hand to place it on the woman's shoulder, meaning to gift comfort, but she stopped her action right in time before she could dye Mrs. Fanning's yellow blouse a terrible crimson.

She had rammed multiple sharp pieces of glass into the thin skin of her palm, but her bloody flesh was the least of her concerns in the given moment. Elora pressed her lips together tightly as she withdrew her hand.