The Forgotten Light

5. Darksen

Darksen swore in his mind like a sailor. What had actually happened there? How did this smaller, more fragile, more delicate human being almost defeat him? How did she sense his swift movement, incomprehensible by the human mind, when he wanted to hit her on the head with the flat of his sword so that she would lose consciousness and only look dead?

He almost tore his hair out of his head, not understanding how the girl resisted all his influences during their fight, how she managed to get up every time she was so painfully knocked down, and how she still managed to keep fighting? In addition, she was extremely fast for a human...

She lost consciousness right after he had announced that they were taking her with them. At that point he sent Arvy to see where Roge was, while he himself stood over the fair-haired girl. She was losing a great deal of blood.

He cursed under his breath. If she hadn't moved, his sword wouldn't have stabbed into her arm all the way to the bone. Arvy would have gladly finished the job for him, but he didn't want the girl to die.

Darksen didn't understand his own behavior. After all, slaughtering the human race should come as easily to him as it did to the rest of his species.

Or was the girl already dead?

He crouched by her side, putting two fingers to her neck. He watched her eyelids curiously, wondering if they would ever open again and if those blue eyes would look at him with such hatred again.

She was alive. Darksen withdrew his hand, but instead of getting up, he persisted with her in a crouch. Nearly white strands of hair fell out of the loose braid. Her face was so calm now. Earlier, tears had smeared the blood on her cheeks, and one still continued to flow along her bruised neck. He had heard of tears, but had never seen them before. He didn't expect that when they rose, they would make her eyes sparkle like crystals.

After all, he felt that this hunt would be different.

He felt that this girl was different ever since covered in blood she appeared in the broken doorway of the hut with two Invicta swords at the ready.

"Incredible," he muttered.

He was just about to reach his finger for a lone tear when Arvy returned to the lodge. He was furious. Darksen straightened up, looking at him questioningly. "Where is Roge?"

"Dead."

Darksen stiffened. He must have overheard.

"That's impossible."

Arvy kicked the destroyed sofa with fury, sending it with a bang to the opposite wall, under which the dead brunette lay.

"My brother is dead! How the fuck did she beat him? How?!"

Then his gaze fell on the unconscious girl. Darksen followed him with his eyes and then the truth hit him. After all, he felt that most of the blood she was covered in was not hers. He got hot under the collar.

"The little bitch killed him," hissed Arvy. "Roge's chest is... Fuck, she ran him through! She also took his sword. Where is it? I'll kill her!"

He recognized his brother's sword in Darksen's hand. He whipped it from him and hauled off at the girl. Darksen stopped his friend by grabbing his elbow. "I said we're taking her. Look around, Arvy. You avenged your brother's death by killing the two people, it seems, closest to her. Believe me, living with this awareness will be a punishment worse than death for her."

Arvy yanked his arm from his grasp and walked out through the hole in the wall, growling "May she serve you gratefully, Darksen."

He seriously doubted that. The girl would never believe that he had just saved her life.

He bent down, taking her in his arms, and moved after Arvy, who was carrying his brother's body. He wondered how someone so light and frail was able to handle the robust Invicta, who was, after all, a well-trained fighter. It was rare for a man to kill one of them.

One might even say that it never happened.

"Who are you?"