Through Flame and Blade

Ch. 48 Tenebrist

*Chiara

With widened eyes and heightened senses, every demon came into sharp focus. She had no weapon.

As an angelii, she didn't care. The only thing that mattered was to kill and to do that, she could take weapons from her enemy or pull them apart with her bare hands. She flexed lengthened hands and readied her wings for the plunge into the fray.

From above, came a clarion call. Her heart soared in answer. The angelic legions were coming from past the ruined Fountain, pouring out of Heaven itself. As an angelii, she could feel them coming closer, hear the beating wings, smell the fresh scent of new snow on small, winter flowers. Snowdrops. Crocuses. Tiny blades of grass. Pure, crisp, sharp, and filled with life. But they were several minutes away at best.

She angled herself to drop, aiming for the thickest of the fray, the circling demons and Four Horsemen clustered around one hideous demon in the middle.

A voice whispered in her head—that buried part of her that was still Chiara.

Logan.

Save him.

She slammed her wings together and streaked downwards. Logan screamed with pain, a cut sprayed blood from a limb.

Liquid rage boiled, melting the cold steel that lined her heart.

They were going to kill him.

He belonged to her.

He belonged to her and she would destroy everything in her path to get to him. Angelii forms spend very little time in thought or contemplation. They exist for one purpose—kill demons. But the part of her that was Chiara, the angel that normally slept when the angellii form took control, refused to be ignored.

Save him.

He is mine.

All right, as Light Bearer, she could save him for last, at the very least.

The Four Horsemen surrounded the demon she recognized as Logan. Despite the driving need to fight and kill, this was a fight she could not win on her own. However, the legions of angel warriors coming from the skies were still too far off to come to her aid.

A dark fire licked Logan's sword and as he swung, flames spilled outwards, consuming everything they touched. Demons rained to the rocky ground, their blackened husks shattering to ashes.

The Dark Flame. Yes, she remembered him killing a cavern full of nasty Pestilence demons when he ignited them in dark flames.

But the Four Horsemen batted out the flames and kept circling. Like vultures, they watched and waited for an injury or a moment's hesitation in order to devour him.

She veered to the side, sweeping in behind the Horsemen, studying their positions for a sneak attack.

Irrinuum swarmed her, instead

Hissing, she avoided the flying demons. She spun through the air, lighter and faster, flitting between them until she managed to get behind one long enough to grab his wings. With a sharp twist, she broke it at the base. He faltered, mid-air, and twisted to thrust his sword at her. As he began to drop, she dodged sideways, jabbed his arm with her elbow and wrenched the sword free. It spun in her hand, flashing the bright sunlight for a breathless second.

She buried it in his chest. Others came for her.

But now she had a sword of her own.

She was the dawn's light in winter. They fell to the ground, cut down by her blade.