Or at least she thought.
A shadow fell over her and a sharp clink slammed into the ball of light screaming to end her. The spell changed trajectory before slamming into the warehouse's wooden wall, punching a hole through it as it exploded in a shower of splinters.
"Get up," Raena hissed, standing over Kymalin with both her swords drawn. "Come with me," she glanced at Kymalin from her perphery before jerking her chin to the other soldiers behind her. "You two, send those to the other side faster. We'll hold the line."
Before Kymalin could fully straighten, the Magistrate dashed towards the lip of the warehouse, her thin blades flashing in the scant light in the building. Left with no choice, Kymalin pumped her legs as she ran, drawing the sword strapped against her hips just in time to parry a strike which would have wounded Raena. The Magistrate gave her a fleeting nod before her eyes darted to somewhere above Kymalin. She took it as a sign and ducked, letting Raena swipe her arm over Kymalin's head, slicing past an exposed torso. Blood rained in sticky but warm drops all around them.
Kymalin gritted her teeth and jumped back into action, swinging her sword to drive back the hazy line of red coats and warehouse workers forming at the only exit. They were smart, she would give them that.
Beside her, Raena was a beast of twists, kicks, and rolls. Each one of her turns brought about a slash from the swords clasped with both hands, bringing an enemy down. Kymalin crossed swords with a red coat and struggled against the weight of his weapon bearing down on her. Finally, after a cry, she drove the soldier back, letting him fall into the slash of a warehouse worker behind him. Flesh crunched. Kymalin swung her sword at the warehouse worker next.
Something flashed in her periphery. A blade stabbed down. Kymalin's arm flashed with pain as she used it to block the strike. Sparks flew as the sharp edge cut straight through her arm greaves and bit at her skin. If it dug a little bit farther, if the soldier had swung it a little harder, she would have lost an arm today. Raena's voice rang in her ears. Second rule. Learn the difference between left and right.
The real Raena now screamed Kymalin's name as she rushed to aid. She shouldn't have. A red coat saw an opening and charged at her from behind. Kymalin's eyes widened. Before she could think, her magic flared to the surface, passing through the priestal artifact around her finger. A greenish silhouette fell upon Raena, taking in the solid blow all by itself.
Kymalin fell against the wall, cradling her bleeding arm to her stomach. She saw Raena recover in a flash and began scything down the red coats who thought could contain her. Dark spots marred Kymalin's vision as she felt strength leave her legs. What in Pidmena's name? She couldn't do this to her comrades now. Such an idiot for getting wounded. Simple mistakes like this shouldn't be happening at this point in her training.
"Hey, Kym! Quit moping," Raena's scream sounded out of breath. Kymalin opened her eyes to find her trapped between several soldiers attacking on all sides. The Magistrate was barely parrying some of the blows. Her sleeves were already torn and through the gaps in the cloth, bright red cuts shone. "Control your spirit!"
True enough, the spirit she accidentally summoned wove in and out of the meele, catching swords and blows in its jelly-like body, spooking not only the enemies but Raena as well. Kymalin gritted her teeth and summoned more magic, feeding them into the priestal artifact. Come on.
The spirit snapped into attention and began moving more efficiently. Raena grinned and the vigor in her strikes renewed.
It lasted for about two mintues. Kymalin fell to her knees as inexplicable pain tore through her temples and pounded in her head. Compounded with the blood slowly draining out from her arm, it was too much. Far too much. It wasn't something she could handle. She hasn't even been cut from parchment before.
"Kym! You there!" Raena's voice sounded far away now. Even the sounds of metal clashing against metal sent extreme pressure on her sense. "Kym! Come on. Hey!"
"We're done!" a stringent cry from a familiar voice rang in Kymalin's ears. Her consciousness slipped and she lost control of her legs. She felt her cheek hit the ground, the smell of hay and mud thick in her nose. For Pidmena's sake, get up. Idiot. Idiot.
She fed energy into her arms. Nothing happened. She grunted and tried to move her tongue. It didn't budge. Gods of Calaris. She's going to die here. They're going to leave her to the warehouse workers for good. A crippled baggage was still baggage.
Something slung around her stomach and pulled her out of the ground. Suddenly, she was being hauled back. The last thing she remembered before the world went awash with inky and suffocating darkness was twavy brown hair shining in the faint light and the shocked faces of the red coats as they watched fugitives vanish into a tear between dimensions.
YOU ARE READING
MOFM 3: The Heir of Night
FantasíaKYMALIN IARO cannot give up. With her brother running out of time and their mother powerless, Kymalin embarks on a journey to find a cure. So when a powerful organization becomes her only hope, she has to prove she belongs to it, even if it means ge...