RISEN || The Keepers of Astraela #2

10.0 || EMRYS

|| CHAPTER 10.0 ||
|| EMRYS ||

THE WOMEN APPROACHED THE BOULEVARD at noon. The sun had hardly broken through the clouds, topping the slow descent of snowflakes that had accumulated for gods knew how long, and crested the center of the sky when Emrys heard their footsteps traipsing from behind the half-demolished post office.

They must have thought they were being sneaky. Their footfalls would have been silent to most any creature, careful and quiet in the silence. If it hadn't been for the vibrations their steps created in his piercing, he likely wouldn't have noticed them at all—but it seemed Amaya granted him with something worthwhile after all.

Emrys stood from where he knelt beside the charred corpse of a man within the local... what did the humans call it? A liquor store?

Emrys had taken refuge there, following the distinct stench of sulfur to the building. He hadn't expected to find life inside a store with smashed-out windows and a scorched interior from the previous night's destruction. But sure enough, some bastard had broken in and was rifling through what little remained when he returned through the Astraelan portal.

The poor man never saw it coming, so Emrys showed him. Let out a sharp whistle, acted friendly enough to let the Other think he was a friend, before grasping the fellow's shoulders and boiling his blood from the inside out.

"For fuck's sake."

Emrys gave the corpse a swift kick, hard enough to roll his limp body to the side and send flecks of dehydrated skin crumbling to the tiled floor. Of course he couldn't finish one task without being interrupted—and he had been looking forward to bringing Amaya a nice, medium-rare human steak for her platter. Maybe it would've been his next death.

He could've used the excitement.

But he supposed fresh meat would work just as well—and if his hearing was correct, there were three sets of footsteps approaching.

Emrys shuffled to the front of the store and crouched below the display window, just enough to provide a decent view of the historical boulevard. No matter the creature, three on one would prove little challenge. The footsteps were too light to be large creatures and too careful for mindless Corrupted. But knowing what he was up against would've made it easier to determine which unfortunate fate would befall them.

Creativity was part of the fun, after all.

The group that rounded the corner was the most mismatched possible. Their presence in a united front was rare—unheard of, even—in Earth's post-apocalyptic state. Two Blessed and an Other.

What desperation must have consumed them to work together?

But as he went to stand, he stopped when flashes of green skin and lavender hair caught his eye. He halted in place to examine them, and he almost wished he hadn't.

The Blessed were familiar.

The smallest one, a woman of goblin and elven blood, hardly came to the shoulders of her humanoid companion. Her eyes held poison, such a deep blood red shade that they exuded malice. With the purpose in her step, any average Blessed would not have dared to mess with her. For him, she would've been a piece of cake.

Something in the farthest edge of his memory reached for the fierce woman. He must have known her in a past life, though her name slipped his foggy mind.

It wasn't until his eyes wandered upon the antlered woman at her side that he remembered. His blood boiled in every sense.

The Faon woman, taller than her companion even without the aid of her crystal antlers, kept pace easily with their petite leader. She had a bounce to her gait and an all-too-familiar sparkle in her pastel pink eyes. The smile gracing her lips was one that tickled the perimeter of Emrys' mind—it belonged to the shadows, to the ghosts that haunted him at night with whispers of what he once knew.