Dominion

That 1st Chapter ~ Rondo of the Beast (3/3)

003

"Now, dance!" Pa tapped her small granddaughter at the back, tall rapier still on her hand. "You shall not seek honor in battle. Heaven or hell doesn't exist. If you really want to live, attack the enemy without compassion."

Swaying and swerve...the fretful child worried of her balance. As not to drop this carefully crafted bone, her tiny hands made a desperate spin mistaking as a swing. And that one pivot made her realize, she was no longer lifting a log but a branch. Twirling on the selfsame footwork of a ballerina, li'l Niknik took her Pa's prized Irish Elk into a dance.

Literally.

"Now, now, don't play with it!" Pa chuckled, and assisted Niknik's back for another round. "Your training begins now."

For the next five years, Dominique Mendoza owned the rapier to her grandfather's style and standards.

"Found you, my bone!"

Right hand tightly gripping her sword, ti's eyed upon the unknown.

Black hood, black eyes─but with teeth as white as December snow, gnarly powered by adrenaline. Elation heard from the stomping heartbeats. Firebrand breath, seething in rage and viciously perverse─not towards her, but for the sword in her hand.

Niknik was attacked.

And the reason for this attack was a forcible hunch, that she was only caught in the web.

Door unhinged and stomped to the ground. Shards of broken glass scattered around the hall. She lied flat over those debris, nose canals burdened. Overridden by a sinister anomaly hailing itself from the darkest of woodlands.

"And you, child, shall perish from the sins of your forefathers."

Knife appearing in his hand from a swirl of magical mist, the frightened victim drew a foot near. Quickly striking a stomp towards the man's abdomen, Niknik reacted a front flip to gain balance. Ribcage churning from the impact, her right shoulder dropped. She held a lightweight sword, yet rendered significantly heavy as she could barely lift her arm. Hurts badly, she'd do everything to spit the blood out of her mouth now.

And yet, she couldn't forgo a second not to assume a combat stance.

"Lynn, please go somewhere safe!" She hurriedly imparted her sister as she caught glimpse of her from outside.

Her sister, hearing this wail, dashed elsewhere without question.

Disheveled to the point of tears almost to rummage down her cheeks.

One moment, you're practicing swordsmanship after a bed rotting from weeks.

And then, home gets desecrated: the Chapel of Twilight Children. This was an orphanage situated within Brooklyn's Holy Twilight Courtyard. An avenue which is nothing but a relic of its past. Only children: no priest nor knights. No worshipers, and certainly not a contractor to maintain the hinges as not to break down from a simple impact.

Admittedly, the attack wasn't simple.

But.

You get bricks falling over, and nobody has been quick enough to process the tremor. Granted during noontime, their surveillance should still be hanging out at a burger joint elsewhere. You can't expect anyone: the best thing to do was to actively seek for help.

As to who, it was up for Lynn to run around town.

Thankfully, only two of them were at home when this occurred.

Niknik had her peace knowing Lillian, Gwyneth, Alice, and Dorothy didn't eat stew with her over lunch.

And that was worth a little sneer. "...Without Compassion," Niknik uttered under her bated breath.