Shadows fall

Kael sways to one side, avoiding the lightning fast lunge of his opponent. They make no sound as they attack, and wrapped in their all enclosing black outfit, Kael can’t determine any of their features, save for the fact that they’re almost inhumanly thin. As he parries the next attack, he understands that there’s no lack of strength in them, rocking back a step from the impact. Kael finds himself wishing he had brought his shield.

Bernal takes a different tactic. After evading the first attack, he keeps his foe at bay with great sweeps of his axe. When they try to close the distance, the backswing nearly ends the fight, missing the cultist’s head by a hair’s breadth. They seem to show more caution after that, but still press in against the older man.

Kael has no time to observe that fight, however. His lighter weapon, though faster, doesn’t **** his opponent on the back foot like Bernal’s massive axe. What’s worse, is that Kael’s opponent seems to have consummate skill in defense. Every attack is rebuffed and countered, every feint spotted, and every attempt at a counterattack stifled. Kael grows frustrated, knowing that the longer the fight continues, the greater chance of an error. Indeed, the slight slips already have cost him, taking a nick on his forearm and a slight cut on one thigh. Though minor, the wounds will slow him further as the fight continues.

It’s strange that the commotion hasn’t drawn the palace guard, either. Surely the noise has been heard by someone. It must be sorcery, Kael thinks to himself. The cultists either dispatched the nearest guards, or incapacitated them in some way.

Suddenly, there’s a roar of pain from Bernal, followed by a horrific crunch. The cultist opposing him staggers back, Bernal’s axe having cleaved through its sternum, remaining lodged there. They fall to the floor, the only sound that of the single remaining blade clattering as it falls from their dead hand.

The **** of their compatriot causes a momentary lapse in Kael’s opponent. A lesser swordsman wouldn’t even notice it, the tiniest lowering of an otherwise impenetrable guard. The slightest opportunity, it lasts for the blink of an eye, and it will not be repeated.

Kael puts his sword through it.

There’s another sickening crunch, as Karl thrusts his sword at his opponent, and the blade lances straight through the eye lens of the cultist. Rather than the red blood Kael expects, a black, viscous ichor splatters onto his blade. The assassin collapses like a marionette with its strings cut, falling limp to the ground.

Breathing hard, Kael turns to see Bernal grimacing, a sword still puncturing his side, clean through his body. Blood runs freely from the wound, dripping on the tiled floor. Despite that, Bernal manages a pained grin.

“Bastard was quick, until I took his sword.”

Kael starts to approach, concerned, but Bernal waves a hand dismissively. “I’ll be fine, lad. Missed the important bits, I think. A couple days with the medics and I’ll be good as new. Vince is going to be mad at me, though.”

The two of them turn to inspect the bodies, only to see them shimmer and fade, leaving only a faint mist, which quickly dissipates. Even the weapons disappear, including the one that was still stuck in Bernal. The older warrior grunts.

“So much for that. Nothings ever simple.”

Kael looks at him. “You should go to the medic. I’ll stand guard over Lord Greyheart.”

There’s the sound of approaching boots, at a run. Bernal nods. “Sounds like the palace guards finally woke up anyway. Thanks, lad. When you tell Vince about this, don’t tell him I leaned into a sword on purpose.”

Kael rolls his eyes. “Just go get stitched up, old man.”

Bernal laughs, wincing. “Aye, I’ll do that. And later we’ll figure out who did this. Not that it takes a detective.”

Bernal walks off, muttering something about the cleaning lady getting mad at him for bleeding on the clean floor. Kael shakes his head, chuckling in spite of himself. The older warrior was right about one thing, though. It doesn’t take a genius to know who was behind this attack. And there will be a reckoning.