Nocturne

☾ Chapter Thirty-Eight ~ Nocturne ☽

Asimi guided Nocturne's hand more than she did. She merely whirled and spun, trying to keep up with its power and firm decisiveness. Her eyes scanned the room for the others.

Aurora seemed to be doing better with Chrysos, and Asa and Aelius were more than taking care of themselves. Emmie and the Solar Head Of Guard had managed to wrangle their soldiers together into a force that was pushing through the crowd towards the four leaders, but slowly, so slowly. Would they be too late? Did we have a chance at all?

Pain ignites along Nocturne's free arm and she cries out before she can help herself. Asimi manages to send the responsible parties reeling, but the damage has already been done. Blood drips thick and hot down Nocturne's arm. Time is moving far too quickly for Nocturne to take a moment to analyze it. All she can do is hope it's not too bad.

She takes a step back, feet slipping on the cold stone. She doesn't dare look down, or anywhere but right ahead of her as she pushes towards Aurora and the guards.

In retrospect, that was a mistake.

Arun and Aelius seemed to have broken off their duel, both parties staggering backwards, thoroughly exhausted and their robes in tatters. The Traitor-King has disappeared, but Aelius happens to glance in Nocturne's direction, and it's that glance that saves her life.

"Nocturne! Behind you!" he shouts, and Nocturne whirled around. Her eyes widen and she barely manages to get Asimi into place to block the blow. Her short, one-handed xiphos is totally incapable of holding up to the force of the greatsword that comes smashing down towards her. Nocturne lifts her injured free arm and grips the flat of the blade, trying to keep it between her and the sharp steel of her opponent's weapon.

It's not going to be enough, she realized dimly. Asimi is strong enough to take the force of one blow, but she's not. Her arms buckle. Her body aches. Her legs bend and force her into a kneeling position, hand hurting from where Asimi's edge slipped and scored a shallow line across her palm.

"Nocturne!" Aurora screamed. Out of the corner of her eye, Nocturne can see the redheaded warrior of Light struggling to reach her, but the press of swords and bodies is too thick.

Nocturne attempted to roll sideways and free herself, but it's too little, too late. Her heartbeat is louder in her ears than the raging battle. Feet below her at last, she pushes herself to her feet, leading on Asimi for support. "Sorry old friend..." she whispers to the blade. Her voice is hoarse and quiet.

Her attacker is approaching again. His sword opens a weighty arc in the air between them, but air is all he cuts. Nocturne dances backwards, her last strength pouring like a river through a falling dam to just keep moving.

She knows she can't defeat him. For one, the only thing keeping his blows from shattering Asimi into a thousand and one lethal shards is magic, and the only thing from keeping them from breaking her arms is not getting hit. There's no way she can stay on the defensive, and she has no skill for offense.

It doesn't matter.

If she is going to survive, she's going to have to strike back. She's faster than him, and any blow from Asimi could send fragments of ice an inch deep into his flesh. He's tired now, as tired as she is. She's just going to have to do it. And give no warning.

Asimi leads the way, blade horizontal, as Nocturne dashes forwards. She makes as if to slash to the right and reach upwards to his shoulder, and the moment he raises his blade to block her she swerves to the left, letting her sword's tip dip downwards.

There's a growl. He turns, lashing outwards. She's not sure if he means to block her or hit her, but she doesn't care. Diving to the ground, she skids underneath his blade and stabs upwards towards the shoulder of his sword arm. Maybe she can disable him? Would that be enough to force him to retreat?

His white robe tears as Asimi skids across it, revealing metal. Fine links of metal, interwoven so tightly there's no hope of Asimi ever getting through it. Chain mail. How could he possibly get chainmail without them knowing?

Yes, the royal family owned some sets, but they required a lot of metal and time to produce. Metal simply wasn't all that common anymore, with most of the knowledge of mining and extracting long lost. It had all been scavenged from ruins and treated carefully to make it usable, and chainmail had been mostly seen as useless, as even in the 'war' fighting had not been common or serious enough to require escalation with metal armour.

Nocturne had to push beyond her wonder. It didn't matter. He probably took it with him from the palace. Where he got his armour was not the biggest concern right then. Much more of an issue was that Nocturne had none, unless you counted the light leathers she wore underneath her dress. And she had the most armour of any of them.

Her attacker was grinning now. He had already won, and he knew it. Nocturne tried to get to her feet, to try and bring him down with her, striking at an unprotected part, but it was too late. He kicked her in the side and she fell, Asimi falling useless from her grasping fingertips. His boot pinned her down.

The greatsword was lifted high above his head. It's too late, Nocturne thought as the blade came plunging down towards her with the full force of her opponent's body. Too late, too late, too late.

She closed her eyes and braced herself.

"I'm sorry, Aurora."

And then the blade fell.