Where Light Dies

29. The Last of His Light

"Raziel."

"Liara."

-- Carlisle, outskirts -- 2015 --

Five years.

I'd been training side by side with her for a what seemed like an eternity.

Liara had blossomed into a fine young woman, with silky dark hair that cascaded down to her waist and warm red eyes that sparkled in the crimson light of the heavens above. Her body curved elegantly at the hips and bosom, probably irresistible to any male in the kingdom despite her brazen demeanour. The girl was a tough one, the kind that didn't care if the truth was bitter when it fell off her lips. Emotion often betrayed her face, giving way to a blank expression at most times. She was always a bit hard to get through to, slow to pick up on things most people would grasp quite easily. Yet I'd never failed to notice that she kept trying, desperate to fit in to society, desperate to express what was hidden in her mind.

"Is there something on my face lord?"

And now things were getting weird.

"No, No I -I just lost track of myself for a while. Will you stop calling me that?" I replied.

Maybe weird was an understatement after all.

"You have been losing track of yourself often these days. I believe it was you who told me to concentrate on the field when on rounds. And no. I will address you by the rank you've earned."

"Fine, have it your way then. Sorry for spacing out."

Her eyes shone with a glint of doubt.

"You shouldn't apologize to your subordinate," she said, slowly tying her hair up to a ponytail.

Just watching her do it was taking a toll on my chest.

What is wrong with me?

"I'm not your senior Liara. I told you, you're my friend."

"I'm not your friend," she whispered, guiding a fluttering strand of hair behind her ear. Her face however was blank as a slate. Somehow, it felt as though there was some sentiment to those words. I'd recently introduced her to Serene and her gang, figuring it'd be good for her to have some female company. Apparently, it wasn't the best of decisions.

Great, now she's speaking in riddles like the rest of them.

"Guess who's here!" came a voice from behind us. It was Javier up to his antics as usual.

"I'm the crown prince's wingman!"

Wait. What!

I tried giving him all the visual signals of a death threat I could muster. However, none of them seemed to be getting through that thick skull of his.

"What's a wingman?" she asked him, the blank look still clinging onto her face.

Hearing such a query from a face as serious as hers was more than enough to crack Javier up. His arm clamped down on my shoulder as he heaved after a good long laugh. The moment he rose, however, his skin went pale.

It must have been my face.

"Go ahead Javier, show her what a wingman is."

Suddenly, Javier stood up as straight as a rod. He slowly shuffled over to the nearest pile of rubble, looking at me through the corner of his eye. Once he was on top of the pile, the teen crouched down on his knees. Folding his arms such that his fingers touched his shoulders, Javier did the best impression of an angry chicken I'd ever seen.

Just as I willed it.

A minute later he came shuffling back, collapsing on all fours completely out of breath. He stood up to face a bewildered Liara, leaving her dumbfounded as he walked toward me.

"You said you'd never do that to me," he whispered.

"You said you'd never mess this up."

"What? I was just spicing it up you know."

The look on my face was probably far clearer than I'd expected.

Javier gulped. "Call it even?"

"Just this once."

A scarlet glare caught my attention. The sun was setting, a mix of all shades of red known to man bouncing off what was left of a dying civilisation. It was hard not to look at her in those wonderful hues of red. The city was silent as ever, an occasional click of a lingering dark all that remained to break the stagnation. Night was coming. The sky would grow black and the darks would gather in hordes. No human could possibly be left alive after that.

"There's something I've been wanting to talk to you about," said Javier, staring at the sunset. If there was one thing that ticked him off, it was silence.

"Go on."

"Heard there's a camp nearby. Interested?"

"It's fine Javier, as long as they're not on the surface," I replied, looking at her dark bangs fluttering in the wind. I still couldn't get a fix on what was wrong with me.

"It's the ones we left out that's become the problem."

"What?"

"A few of the ground-dwellers escaped our last siege. They survived for a few days on the surface and now they've been taken into one of their strongholds. The Harringtons, if I were to quote their words."

"This doesn't bode well my lord. It is vital that our plan of attack isn't obvious to the enemy," said Liara, brandishing her blade. The knife was by far the weapon that suited her most. She was an expert on anything sharp, and making full use of this while fighting was where she gained her edge. The sharp bones she could summon from within herself was what made her deadlier than most after all. "Do you know where they are now?"

"Yes, we can drop by right now if you want to," said Javier, turning around to face me.

The three of us were more than enough to handle a camp. Liara with her spikes, me with mind control apparently, and Javier. As for Javier, let's just say that he packs quite a punch. However, an assault without strategy would be a disgrace to the rules of war.

"All in good time Javier," I said, ruffling my hair in the evening wind. The sky had darkened, the sun's final rays lingering around in the dusty lands. It was time to return to Valhalla. Liara had her rounds to take care of, just to make sure there weren't any uninvited guests on what was rightfully ours.

It was time to part ways.

"For now let's just return home. As for you my apprentice, happy hunting. Make haste Liara. A good meal is in order."

"I'd be happy to join," she said, a hint of a smile washing over her features.

If only I knew it would be the last I ever saw of her.

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