Dawn of Arcane Destiny

Chapter Sixty-Seven

Lillia barely dodged as Drayce threw a fist at her face. She whipped out her knife but cursed herself. What was she going to do? Stab her husband? Her heartbeat painfully. She tried to think of a way out of this. Nothing came to her.

She blocked Drayce’s fist, turning a one-eighty and slicing a cut across his shoulder blade, ripping open his shirt. The cut bubbled with inky black blood. The cut wasn’t deep, it hopefully would just stun him. He would be able to heal right? Oh Zavian, what would she do if he started using his powers?

She had no combat training. She didn’t have powers. All she had was a dagger and useless knowledge about the past. She was hopeless.

Drayce swept her legs out from under her in her distraction. She hit the ground with a splash, dropping her knife. Drayce kicked the blade, sending the knife up with a spray of water, and caught it in his left hand. He then tossed it to his dominant right.

Great. Now she didn’t even have a knife.

She scrambled out of the way, looking around. Solid walls everywhere. She almost groaned in frustration. How in Zavian’s name was she supposed to find the Sword if she couldn’t even see any of the exits or entrances? For the first time in her life she wished that she was a Mystic.

She barely regained her feet when Drayce came at her with the knife. She danced out of the way, and just barely manage not to get sliced to pieces.

“Drayce, please!” She cried, dancing back again. Oh Zavian. She was against the wall, cornered. He lunged forward. She hardly recognized him with those hallow eyes. His knife hand came down. She caught his wrist, working to stop his momentum. His sneering face was mere inches from her own. She shoved with her free hand against his chest. She couldn’t be cornered like this. She had come so far!

He leaned back, reversing time on the knife. It flew with unnatural speed, as if it was sucked from his right to his left hand.

In one thrust it was all over.

***

Drayce caught the man’s poised arm and swung him around sending him crashing into the Istheos on the border of the circle. Drayce’s arms shook with the effort. He had overestimated his strength for that one maneuver. Holy Non, he was in trouble. His only chance was to get this over and done with quickly. He only hoped his combat skills weren’t as rusty as he anticipated.

Meanwhile the Istheo yelled something in his language that Drayce couldn’t understand, stumbling to his feet. He was on a warpath now.

He ran at Drayce yelling, unsheathing a dagger. Since when was that allowed? Drayce glowered. Apparently, it didn’t matter, as long as the end result was his dead corpse. Well if he was going to play by street rules then Drayce would too.

Drayce caught the man by the forearm and shin scraped him, causing him momentary distraction. In that moment, Drayce hit a specific pressure point on the man’s arm, causing him to drop the knife, which Drayce quickly retrieved, scooping it up from the ground, before anyone had a chance to react.

The crowd of Istheos booed him. Just as well. He wasn’t trying to entertain; he was trying to stay alive. It wasn’t his fault that they gave him lots of practice.

In a blink of the eye the Istheo was attacking again. Drayce ran to meet him, angling himself to the side. Right before they collided Drayce held out his arm, clotheslining the man and jutted his foot out tripping the Istheo. In a moment he was on the ground groaning.