Xigon pushed his dagger between his enemy's ribs, slicing deep into his lung. Haode tensed up with a choking wet gasp, blood spurting out as the blade cut a major artery. When he was sure he'd done enough damage, Xigon pulled the dagger from the wound to let blood flow unimpeded.
For an instant, his heart glowed with the grim satisfaction he had come to know like an old friend – the violent delight of an excellent kill.
The next instant, pity overwhelmed all else.
Xigon grabbed his terrified enemy and laid him down, cradling his head and neck so he could breathe a little easier – choking on blood was needless torture. "Don't be afraid." He kept his tone as gentle as he could. "It's over. It's all over."
Color drained rapidly from Haode's skin. He said something Xigon couldn't make out. His voice was too shaky and weak to understand, but it sounded like he was pleading for help.
Though it hurt something deep inside him, the master refused to look away. Instead, Xigon clasped Haode's hand as it turned bluish from blood loss and offered what comfort he could.
Though it took several minutes for Haode to lose consciousness and several more for him to bleed out, his death was quiet and calm, like returning to sleep after a nightmare.
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This thing we call life exists only for an instant between two oblivions. We are made in darkness, pushed screaming into this world, then pulled whimpering back, forgotten as we were conceived – within a single breath – and the universe does not even blink.
That is the first law of being. We are nothing.
_____________
An instant between two oblivions. A single breath in troubled air. Insignificant. Xigon knew this scar should not weigh any heavier than the thousands before it. And yet...
As he watched Haode's heat go dark, Xigon was overcome with a pain so intense that it made his breathing hitch. He blinked. Everything was blurry without his goggles. His eyes had never hurt this much. Nothing had given him pain like this in recent memory, not even the dose of Rager. Stranger still, the urge of impending death did not leave him, even though he knew the man bleeding in his arms had died. Xigon knew he had not failed. If he wanted someone dead, they died. That was how it always was.
He might as well have been a child crushing an insect. He certainly felt that small.
Confused, Xigon bent for a closer look. His vision only got blurrier. He checked for a pulse and found none. Still, Xigon's head was pounding. He could hear his own heartbeat, but even that was barely enough to punctuate the harsh ringing in his ears. His spine tingled as if his own power were somehow turning on him.
"Dakko, stop crying or you'll hurt yourself." Ido sounded in tears himself. "Dakko, please!"
Xigon jolted as if he had been struck by Ido's lightning. His eyes darted and found the boys' heat. Ido stood at a cautious distance, arms wrapped tight around his struggling brother.
"Come here." Xigon was taken aback by how weary his own voice sounded.
"No!" Ido yanked Dakko back, nearly throwing him. "You demon, you — !"
"Ido, it's all right." Dakko's tone was eerily calm. "Master Xigon won't hurt us."
Ido let go of Dakko and fell to his knees with a scream. The sound was like an ice dagger through Xigon's heart. His eyes burned with a sharper pain. Tears, he realized. He'd ripped the ground out from under these children.
YOU ARE READING
IRON GOD | 1: Peripeteia
FantasyKolo's life didn't end when the masked hunter caught her. It began anew. He was a disciple of the lost Iron God, whose power once kept the world alive. Now, she is too. With the whisper of this strange god in her heart and everyone looking to her fo...