Songs of Souls

020: Unleashing the Trapped Boy

Lake Treffen had turned a sickly green under the renewed light. Einntyr huddled with his brothers as Deynfif slumped against a rock. Hirua could barely stand as he carried Kyura. The wind bit, leaves ripped from the trees and swirled like a dust devil. The Imperial's grin, a flash of malice and a single, sharp canine tooth, was fixed on them like they were the main course and he was starving.

"Wahahaha!" The Imperial's laugh was worse than scraping a plate with a fork — set his teeth on edge. Goosebumps erupted all over his skin, like he was back in Gran's alchemy room and she'd mixed up something volatile. That manic grin never wavered. The air around the soldier's sword swirled, the whistling intensifying as the weapon blurred towards Hirua.

Hirua, with Kyura in his arms, still managed to deflect the Imperial's strike. Deynfif created a rock cube that hurtled towards the foe. The cube exploded into dust against the soldier's weapon.

His eye met Deynfif's for a brief moment, his brother was panting hard. Deynfif needed him. Hirua needed him. His fingers tightened around his lagrings.

The Imperial's weapon shrieked, the sound scraping down his spine like a rusty blade. His lagrings hummed in his palm as he lunged, towards the Imperial's exposed back. "Get away from Hirua! You screechy jackal!"

His left hand buzzed, fingers contorting into a claw-like shape. Earth energy surged, rolling into three razor-sharp blades. "Earth Style: Stone Spurs!"

The clash of his earth claws against the jackal's air blade sent a shriek through the air, harsh and angry. The wind from the air weapon whipped past his face, sharp and cold. The Imperial stumbled, off balance for just a heartbeat.

He didn't hesitate. Another claw strike, then another. Earth claws ripped towards the soldier, aiming for any gap in those fancy defenses.

The jackal laughed, the sound like grinding gears, and met his attack head-on. Silver flashed. A bell tolled – his ribs – and suddenly he was reeling backward. A blur, a hiss of air, something coming for his back – too fast, too close. Rock shrieked against wind, the blow deflected by a cube. The Imperial sprang back, a snarl twisting his face. I owe you one, Deynfif!

Hirua! A red streak, the Fire Bolo whipping upwards for the jackal's knees. The soldier was already moving, landing light as a feather on the other side of Hirua's attack. "Dungbreath!" Hirua roared, slamming his fist against the ground. Pfft! Dungbreath? That's even better!

A rumble shook the ground as Deynfif launched a boulder forward. But the Imperial met it with a flurry of strikes, each blow sending shards of rock flying. Dust filled the air, a haze of defeat.

"Scrawny vermin," the dungbreath sneered, landing low to the ground. "That all you got?"

He caught Deynfif's eye and gave a slight nod. "Not a chance, you dungbreath jackal!" he roared, leaping into the fray. A platform of earth surged beneath him, propelling him like a projectile towards the dungbreath. His right arm ignited, two fiery energy claws blazing into existence. He felt a grin split his face. "Fire Style: Flame Fangs!" he bellowed, aiming for the jackal's head. It was a perfect opening, just what Hirua needed to attack from below.

The Imperial spun like a horizontal twister, a blur of limbs tucking and twisting, dodging both fire attacks from below and above. The air sword's shriek intensified. No! His gut clenched. "Boulder Bulwark!" he yelled, activating the lagring on his left hand. The air sword hit his shield, a screech that rattled his teeth and blasted him backward. Ice flooded his veins. Hirua!

He scrambled back, each heartbeat a drum in his ears. There—Deynfif's shield, a wall between Hirua and that monster. But Hirua was down, sprawled on the ground like a discarded puppet.