Claire Von Angea
"The Ravager may be built differently, but I am a God! A god of foxkins, and I've yet to lose!"
A declaration made by the proud foxel was quickly proven inaccurate. My companion's blood colored the ground despite the fierce resistance that he put up. In the end, Mark was just no match for the man. With each punch, the desire to assist him quickly faded. Every fiber of my being requested that I vacate the area to survive another day. After all, I still have people to live for. My mother, my brother, and Horace all needed me, but that posed a problem for me; I was the one who got him involved.
Marktavious's power was incredible, and despite his blood being shed, he continued pushing forward to attack. I wished that I could do something, anything, to assist him. However, no matter what burning desires I had underneath, I found myself unable to move from my sitting position. The massive figure of our attacker loomed as if he were darkness incarnate. He threatened to swallow the foxel whole, and I could do nothing about it.
'Marktavious...I-I am sorry... I'm just not strong enough...my attacks didn't do anything to him, and-and...'
Excuses!
I brought him into this world of danger. It was I who invited him into this dangerous world, yet here I am, contemplating whether or not I should leave him behind.
'How...pathetic...'
Each clash with our attacker made the foxel lose more and more steam for this battle. His hands reached up and caught the massive blade, which threatened to slice down the middle. My breath hitched when he moved aside, only to fail at capitalizing. However, the man didn't give up. His blood and sweat dripped, but the foxel's injuries didn't prevent him from slowing down. He fought without hesitation and with no fear of repercussion!
No matter how powerful our opponent was, Marktavious charged with reckless abandon, putting his body on the line to protect us.
'I should begin the healing spell again... I have to do...'
Kabloooom!
The ground around us shook violently as a massive gust of wind blasted me onto my back. I had barely recovered from the last attack, and even Mikangleo was overpowered. The three of us couldn't stop him together, and if an attack of that nature managed to land on Marktavius, then...
"N-No..."
My heart twisted at the carnage presented before me. Images of Sylvia played in my mind as her desperate fight for my survival burrowed in my mind. It was the moment that I began to lose everything.
"He... isn't moving."
How far could a person go off of confidence alone? How dangerous could arrogance be? I had no idea, but if Marktavious had sought answers to those questions, he likely would have chosen a different route. He was a man who touted himself as a figure of divinity. An individual with unbridled confidence in himself despite the hardships of individuals of his race. Whether he was a true kitsune or not, I suppose I will never know now.
'This is my chance to make a difference in this world! I will learn its power and, shape my desires, and warp it into reality! That is what a hero does!'
I recall his words when I eavesdropped on him before we attended Percival's celebration. Those words were surprising, but then again, Marktavious or Mark Drago, as he claimed at the time, is equally astonishing. Foxels, like him, were a race of people shackled by society due to the actions of their ancestors, but as he spoke, it was with the utmost hope and confidence. Despite my cowardice in abandoning his friend, he voiced his support for my cause—a cause that has put a target on his back and his friends.
However, it appears that his decision has led him to this point. A brush with death once was enough to make others reconsider their stance. I have experienced this before: allies turning into enemies and selling me out. They placed me in the hands of those who wished me harm, but Marktavious was different.
As his body lay in a pool of blood, mine grew colder, and my heart became strained. This was a disaster. It wasn't supposed to end like this! I shouldn't have gotten him involved! We shouldn't have separated when clear danger was around us, following us like a dark cloud of misery. I wanted to protect my city and my people just as my mother did, but... is it raining?
The warm sun's embrace did nothing to heat the chill racing down my spine. The sickness I felt weighed on the ache in my chest, but as I glared at the sky above, I noticed that not a single cloud was present. My eyes widened as another droplet of water separated against the palm of my hands.
This wasn't rain, but...
"I won't find my end here... not today."
Mikangleo spoke in a whispery tone as he fought to his feet. There was desperation present on the man's previously stoic face. He watched Marktavious with an odd expression; whether it was disregard or regret, I didn't know. What I did know is when he stood, our attacker placed his attention from Marktavious's corpse to him.
"I can't believe his words swayed me. Both of us aren't going to get out of here, no matter how well we work together," Mikangleo spat, his hands grasping his torso.
He had a pained expression, which made me realize that my healing magic was far too inadequate for his injuries.
"Remember, he wants the woman for himself. You can beat the man but do not unnecessarily bruise the noblewoman. I imagine that he has plans for her, and your job is to-"
Svett's words were interrupted as our attacker turned to face him with a fierce glare. His gaze's power was enough to silence the Silver Stars' leader and drop him onto the ground. The large man's frame turned back in our direction and placed his large sword back into his sheath. His eyes were darkened, injecting a paralyzing amount of fear inside of my body.
His presence also affected Mikangleo, causing the man to shiver and fall to his knees. It was as if he had surrendered his desire to fight despite his vow to himself. His regret for joining us was apparent to all those present. However, it mattered not.
"I always found it interesting..." The man started, his tone matching the sharp gaze. "You nobles would use anything to further your goals. I don't know where you found that foxkin, but he died needlessly. Had you chosen to escape and somehow succeeded, you would've replaced him with another. Thus continuing the cycle of the oppressed."
His words were venomous and struck me in my core. In a twisted way, he was correct. Each step he drew closer reminded me of the night in which I lost everything... Sylvia, my mother, my identity. My trust in my way of life was ripped from my hands, and I was too weak to fight for it. I ran, and I replaced my faithful friend. For that decision, I led to the death of another good demi-human.
'This rain... please stop. I can't... I can't...'
No matter how much I fought the rain from escaping onto my face, it still emerged. Streaks of water littered my face as the shadow of death covered my body.
"I was tasked to bring you in alive, but I see no point. Whatever crime you have committed will disappear due to your coin, and the injustice of your servants will not be avenged. You nobles always escape without consequences, but this time, it is different."
Without warning, my head was struck, and I was seeing stars. My consciousness flickered as I was thrown around the road like trash in the wind. Each crash is more violent than the last! When my momentum slowed, I was again reminded of the strength gap between us. Just a single attack had me fly several feet across the ground, absorbing my already fleeting stamina.
"Please... stop..." I mustered, but the torment didn't stop.
I struggled to return to my feet, but before I could do so, his fist struck my stomach, bypassing the armor that protected me.
"The words of the guilty," The man scoffed as he grabbed my hair and lifted me.
Roots screamed in anguish as they attempted to hold on for dear life. He had pulled me to my feet and glared at my strained face.
"W-Why are you doing this?" I asked, but my voice merely came out as coughs.
"That is a question of the innocent. A noble's tongue shouldn't dare utter it, or else they risk losing it!"
I attempted to block the incoming punch, aiming for my face, but even absorbing it with my forearms didn't lessen the power.
"In a world crafted off of the backs of the oppressed, you nobles monopolize the axels of power for your greed. Artifacts, schools of magic, generations of mages, and swordsmen all received the best while those who were stepped on to establish that were outcasted and labeled as lesser.... as demons."
I couldn't help but despair as the man pulled me along and bombarded me with his mad ravings. His destination was clear: Mikangleo. He approached, striking me in my stomach twice, causing me to collapse to my knees once we had arrived. Disgust warped Mikangleo's face as he watched the torment on display, but our attacker didn't appreciate the look. He backhanded Mikangleo, causing a disgusting crunch to fill the air. Without a single doubt, Mikangleo had broken his nose. He screamed in agony as the attacker spoke again, "You are complicit, so you will not escape the consequences. The complicit are just as sick as the nobility. They aid in the cycle of the oppressed and often benefit from it, so it is always suitable to punish without prejudice or mercy."
"You're sick in the head, bastard, nothing more... nothing- gah!"
Mikangleo's cries of pain erupted as the man grabbed him by his broken nose. He tormented Mikangleo, enacting the sick punishment he had in store for him.
"Leave...Leave him alone!" I mustered, but I was rewarded for my words with a firm hand around my throat. "I-I didn't do anything to..."
"Matters not. You will be punished nonetheless," He replied coldly. Satisfied with Mikangleo's cries of pain, the man grabbed his hair and kneed him in his face.
He fell over in a heap, rolling in the pain and despair that he must be experiencing. I couldn't allow the man to suffer like he was, so I attempted to heal him with my magic. I felt the energy flow through my body and fought the suffocation to concentrate the mana in my arm. Using the mysterious ring Marktavious granted me; I attempted to restore even a small amount of the damage this madman had placed on him.
However, he quickly realized my intent and moved to interrupt it. His hand snatched my wrist and let out a devastating squeeze. My bones creaked, crying out for mercy from the man's grip. Just when I thought my bones would be shattered, he released his grip and tossed me onto the ground. A heavy aura blasted around the man, indicating he was ready to finish us.
"I always find it amusing that the guilty attempts to crawl away and escape when convenient. There is no spell chaining you up, nor is there any metal binds around your neck, but there is a reason you find yourself unable to flee... There is no heavier prison than that of your guilty conscience!"
"I have nothing to be guilty about! I-I," Mikangleo's words were interrupted as the boot of the man slammed into him and pinned him to the ground.
His yelps of pain only furthered the scowl of the aggressor. The man would reach behind his cloak and reveal a dagger. It gleamed in the sunlight with deadly intent. Leaning down, he grabbed Mikangleo by his collar and pulled the man off the ground. He pressed the blade against his chest while caressing his skin with its edge.
"Typical. When faced with the truth, the guilty chooses to spew a veil of lies, hoping that the person enacting justice will not see through it." His tone gave me frostbite as he continued, "I see through it. A danger and plague; that is what the nobility and their conspirators are. When faced with this revelation, I can't help but cut out the root of those lies. In other words... I'll be taking your tongue now."
Mikangleo's eyes widened as the man tried to make good on his words. The dagger inched closer to his mouth, and despite his attempts to fight against the grisly fate, Mikangleo found himself unable to do so. With my hands shaking, I attempted to assist him, but it amounted to nothing. As soon as I began to move, the man kicked me back to the ground and pressed his foot against my shoulder.
"You stay still!" He commanded, but I was forced to follow it without my consent. He was too powerful, and now he would inflict an injustice on Mikangleo, which he did not deserve, and it was all my fault. It was I who got Marktavious and Mikangleo involved. My actions have paved the way for this misery...
'If I had just died that day, then...'
"Please... don't do this... maybe we could come to an..." The man stomped onto my already injured arm with incredible force.
If it wasn't broken beforehand, then it was fractured now. I was sure of it. I cried out in anguish as he dug his heel into my forearm. A nasty snear slashed across his face as he reveled in our torment.
"I cut people, not deals," He spat before continuing to attempt to mutilate Mikangleo.
My heart ached as I witnessed the blade grow closer and closer to his mouth, but before he achieved it, he stopped. He would turn his head away from Mikangleo and glance behind him. I couldn't understand what brought such an unsightly frown to the man's face, but whatever it was displeased him.
Perhaps one of the Silver Stars had approached to stop his actions, or another goblin ambush had arrived. Reinforcements from Astana? Horace? Mother?
"If that's the case, then I recommend you cut that shit out..."
My heart skipped a beat as the familiar voice commanded the attention of our attacker. A slight tremble ran down the man's leg as he removed it from my body and tossed Mikangleo aside as if he had no value to him anymore. As I pulled myself up by my elbow, my eyes widened with surprise and hope fluttering within my chest. Something bound our attacker's arm; it was thick and brown, like a tree root.
It constricted the arm with the blade and maneuvered closer to his neck. The figure that cast that magic was,
'He...He's alive?!M-M-Marktavious?!'
"Next step you make against anyone here... you won't live long enough to regret it."
Almost on cue, the foxel man used more of those tree roots to lift himself from the ground. It moved with the fluidity of a snake slithering on the ground as it wrapped around his hands and waist to lift him to his feet. Once satisfied, they moved with purpose in all directions until one of them returned. He spoke with his eyes closed, but as if he knew they were there, his hand reached out and retrieved the glasses he had lost in their previous exchange.
His eyes flew open as he causally wiped his lens off with a finger, then placed them onto his face. Once he was able to see, a frown appeared on his face, one that I had never seen him make before. Long gone was the cocky and mischievousness of the foxel, replaced with a seriousness that appeared to paralyze our attacker.
'The rain... it's back..not again... It's supposed to be sunny today, so why?!'
Our attacker must've found his tongue as he spoke with his previous firmness,
"Complicit... You are a traitor to your kind. You of all people should-"
"Who?" Marktavious asked, his voice cold.
"You! Foxkins! You should-"
"Asked?" Marktavious responded. He glared at our attacker with killing intent blasting from his body.
The roots around him seemed to pulsate and coil around his feet. The foxel shifted his gaze to me and then to Mikangleo. However, before either of us could react, we found ourselves being dragged to his location by those same roots. Our attacker was displeased by the sight, so he attempted to free his arm to stop him.
"Go ahead and make my day. Please break free. I am begging you because if that doesn't stop you, then I will not hesitate to take your ass down. You keep fucking around, and I'm dying to-"
Marktavious didn't finish his thoughts as our attacker snapped the roots binding his arm before glaring at the foxel. His murderous intent was clear for all to see. He wasn't going to back down from Marktavious despite his threats, and the two pulsating auras from the men clashed brighter than the sun above and threatened to devour all of us next to them.
Once we arrived at Marktavious' side, I felt a warmth I had not felt before. He reached his hand to me with a confident smile on his face. I hesitated, but he decided for me. His hand took mine and carefully guided me to my feet. His eyes locked with mine, his tail moving with incredible speed, and in my chest, I felt... I felt...
"Sir Shakey Tail...I"
The battle between our group and our attacker was far from over, but I knew I was glad to see him alive.