Verita - The Guardian of Darkness

37

„I have enough. For example, I have the upper hand right now."

„That can change", said the chained stranger calmly. „And when it does, you'll regret ever having set foot on Gratian soil."

She  immediately knew that was nothing to be gained from being friendly to  him, so Elanthin unsheathed one of her blades. Now she was thankful to  have brought them with her. Even though the servant could've most likely  equipped her with whatever she wished for, she still felt most  comfortable with her own weapons. With them, she knew exactly how much  pressure she could – and couldn't – put on her enemy before they broke.

"I'll  say it once more but I promise it'll be the last time: In case you want  to avoid this conversation getting a bit unpleasant, you should answer  my questions to the best of your abilities."

The scrawny man  in front of her stayed silent. Holding eye contact, he didn't blink  once. He stared at her blank faced – just like the marble statues in the  hallways did – and Elanthin couldn't cover up the disgust on her face  for a brief moment.

He caught it.

"You're repulsed by me?", he asked with a crooked smile. There was no joy in it but a sort of satisfaction.

Elanthin smiled at him too, even though the rage inside urged her to forget all niceties and move on to bloodier business.

Stay calm, she reprimanded herself. How often had she done this before? Was it because he should've succeeded in his assassination?

"Obviously. Why wouldn't I be repulsed by the man who tried to kill me from the shadows?"

"Maybe  you should be scared of me?", he asked back in a contemplating manner.  His voice could've convinced Elanthin that he was comfortably sat under  an oak tree, lost in thought. "I very nearly took your life. By the way,  how you survived –– that's a story I take an interest in."

That's enough reason for me to keep silent about it, thought Elanthin. Out loud she said, "I refuse to be frightened by cowards."

While  the scrawny man shook his head, little pieces of straw and dirt fell  from his dark curls. His face was lowered, making it hard for Elanthin  to make out his expression but he was letting out an uncomfortable  sound, somewhere between choking and ...

She started to frown when she noticed that the assassin was chuckling.

"Did you know", she said slowly, "that Veritan guards who commit cowardice are kicked down the Deep's abyss?"

The  chuckling grew louder, until the stranger managed to contain it in a  crooked smirk. All the while, Elanthin had to grab the hilts of her  swords until her knuckles went white to avoid a bloodshed.

How dare he. Those three words kept repeating in her head, while she looked down on him.

"I  find that spiky attitude amusing", he said with a sneer, "so I'll tell  you one thing: You don't stand a chance against us because you can't  expect us."

"His Majesty isn't wholly unfamiliar with your friends", held Elanthin against his words.

"Well, he doesn't know our new friends yet."

She forced her smile to grow a little brighter again. "In that case, would you mind telling me a little about them?"

The assassin's eyes wandered over her fake expression lazily. Then he shook his curls.

"No, I don't think I will."

We'll see about that,  thought Elanthin, while fastening the chain around his wrist tighter to  the hook on the floor. When the stranger couldn't move around anymore,  she bent down to press her blade against the soft flesh of his inner  arm. The tip scratched the skin above his elbow open and little drops of  red started to form.

The scrawny man made no sound. Instead, he kept his eyes fixed on her smile until she lost it.
Elanthin  twisted the blade a little and his flesh yielded. Drops of blood  pearled off his fingers as she dug the metal deeper into his arm,  gathering into small rivers on the floor beneath. The thick smell of  iron mixed itself with the clam mould and sweat of countless prisoners  trapped in the moist straw beneath their feet.

"I've asked politely but you insist on being difficult."

She  hesitated a second, giving him a last chance to explain his mission  voluntarily. When he passed on it, she felt her heart sink a little. But  somewhere in the area of her stomach, a sense of satisfaction grew.

If Phygras had been here in this moment, he'd asked her to come back more collected; she knew that without asking.

"Shall we move onto the next phase?"

The  scarred man hadn't looked at his latest wound once. Even now, he smiled  at Elanthin, who started to understand that she wouldn't be able to go  easy on him. Not even if she'd wanted to.

"Please", he said.

Elanthin  fulfilled his request willingly. Without haste or hesitation, she  clasped her fingers around his right arm and pressed her blade's edge  into its inner side once more. As little drops of red formed on the  metal, she looked up at his burned face.

The fire inside her  stomach was getting fueled by images of soldiers and friends dying in  excruciation pain – all because of a little drop of the darkness'  poison. This man had known what would happen to her if the assassination  succeeded. He'd been alright with the idea of her suffering a  tormenting death.

Elanthin's first cut was swift as she pulled  her blade up in a single motion. The sharpened steel glided through the  scarred skin without noticeable resistance; it could've been butter or  wax for all that mattered. Like peeling an apple, she cut only the upper  layer of skin, leaving the flesh beneath raw and unprotected.

The  severed flap of skin met the cobble floor with a wet sound which  blurred into a grunt. The primal sound had escaped the assassin's mouth  before he'd had a chance to prevent it. Little drops of sweat were  starting to form on his forehead, showing signs of the distress he was  determined to hide from her.

Elanthin readied her blade for another cut.

"I  don't mind going on until you're soaked in your own blood from head to  toe", she promised coldly. "And there's no way to live after attacking a  royal. Isn't it futile to hold out now?"

Although the man's  arm was showered in fresh blood, his eyes told the answer clearly and  Elanthin was willing to deliver on his expectations. With every second  of Elanthin's blades scraping through his skin, the assassin's  expression grew more strained.

Screams started to fill the room as Elanthin's blades slowly stripped away him, layer for layer.

#