Fate of the Marked

Lavael

As Lavael shifted and twisted before us, her body morphed into a solid, familiar form. The sight sent an involuntary shudder through me—there he was, Roderick, down to the last detail. Every scar, every muscle, every inch of the brother I knew better than myself. But his expression was off; his usual fierce grin twisted into something cruel, his eyes gleaming with a malice I'd never seen in him.

"Well, well," he sneered, his voice carrying Lavael's mocking edge, tainting Roderick's familiar tone. "So this is what you thought a demon would look like, Thalia? Or did you think it'd be as easy as every other little beast you've taken down?" His gaze raked over Katsuro, dismissive and contemptuous. "And you brought this one along?"

Before I could process the insult, Lavael—wearing my brother's strength—moved. Roderick's massive axe swung down in an arc, and Katsuro barely sidestepped in time, his face set in grim determination as he dodged. The blade crashed into the stone floor with a force that made the entire room shake, shards of stone scattering around us.

Without missing a beat, Katsuro retaliated, his movements swift and precise, his blade slicing through the air with a grace that was second nature to him. But Lavael, with Roderick's brute strength and quick reflexes, blocked each strike with ease, her laughter echoing off the basement walls. "This is what you call skill?" she sneered, her voice dripping with contempt. "You might as well be a child playing with sticks."

Katsuro's jaw tightened, his stance shifting as he moved in again, faster, his strikes aimed to exploit the tight, close quarters. But Lavael was ready for him. With a sweep of her arm, she deflected his blade, sending it skittering to the side. Katsuro went for another strike, aiming at her legs to destabilize her, but she caught his wrist with an iron grip. Before he could react, she twisted, forcing him to drop his sword with a pained gasp.

Katsuro's gaze flicked toward me, as if he wanted to reassure me, but Lavael's grip tightened, and his face contorted in agony. "Is this all your so-called 'dependable warrior' can manage?" she taunted, her voice a mocking echo of Roderick's, before she slammed Katsuro into the wall, the impact enough to rattle the stone.

Katsuro grunted, trying to right himself, but Lavael was merciless. She yanked him back by his arm, her grip so strong that I saw his shoulder strain and dislocate with a sickening pop. Katsuro grimaced, his face pale, yet his stance remained steady, his gaze defiant.

I clenched my fists around my staff, fighting the rising panic in my chest. Lavael was relentless, moving with Roderick's brute strength, and there was no doubt now—she could tear us apart if we weren't careful. My brother was a powerhouse, the strongest fighter I knew, and seeing his abilities turned against us was like witnessing a force of nature, terrifying and unstoppable.

Katsuro, despite his injury, tried again, moving with a determination that had kept him alive in countless fights. His good arm swung toward her in a sharp arc, but Lavael caught his blade with her hand, ignoring the way it sliced into her palm. Blood oozed between her fingers, but her twisted grin only widened as she tightened her grip and ripped the blade from his grasp.

"Is that all, Katsuro?" she mocked, her words a mockery of everything he'd fought for. "You play at strength, but you're no match for me. Not even close." She raised her arm, swinging the hilt of the axe down against his chest with a brutal force that sent him sprawling to the ground, coughing and gasping for air.

In an instant, Lavael was on him again, grabbing his leg and twisting with a sickening crunch. Katsuro's face contorted in agony, and I heard a strangled scream tear from his throat as his knee gave way, bending at an unnatural angle. She released him, watching him struggle to get back up, her expression one of cruel delight.