The Black Unicorn

"We Must Make Haste"

I was still holding onto my brother as I saw Master Ambrose rise up from his hay bed from the sides of my vision. My eyes widened and my fingers gripped tighter onto my brother's shirt. I knew I was clinging to him, but I was no longer aware of his presence.

The sounds of the raging battle were whipped away as if a Tornado suddenly blew through the barn. It was as if reality itself other than He and I were taken away. I no longer saw the hay, the barn, the others that I loved dearly. All I saw was the man rising from his slumber, like some old forgotten hero in those stories my mother used to tell my brother and me when we were children.

I had seen him plenty of times without his armor on as he was now. He was built like an ox, with thick and bulky muscles underneath his skin. His Pectorals were the most defined muscle on him underneath the hair that covered them and he had a slight belly. All of it hinted at the power held underneath, however. His muscles were not strongly defined like Amadeus's were and from the naked eye, a foolish person might mistake them for fat or chubbiness.

All, in short, he was just overall a very large and intimidating man. Straws of hay clung to him as he stood up, many falling off, some sticking to him, especially where he had hair such as his head, chest, and arms. Prodomitalty it mostly stuck to his back and the back of his pants since that was where the weight had been when he had been laying down.

The wound on his chest was still red and very angry. The skin around its edges was purple and dark, leading to great concern. I could see that it was still a problem for him as it caused him to still for a second as he tried to stand up straight. He did though and when he did he didn't look at me, he looked straight at Yalora as she fended off attacks from all four brothers, King Bubba, and Dracal as if she were batting off children. 

I had seen Master Ambrose do great and terrible things, and I was about to see him do more I knew. That was when reality came flooding back to me. As if the Tornado that had taken it away in the first place had just come back for another rotation. Everything was happening so damn quickly.

My father was trying to reach my mother, and whatever Yalora did to Malica was still in effect. The beast lay on the ground as if she were dead, the only thing that told me otherwise was her breathing. It was calm and peaceful though as if she had just been put into a deep sleep.

No matter how fast or hard the brothers flooded the traitor, they could nay hit a single scratch on her skin. She had some sort of a whirlwind of raging, hot air surrounding her that not only pushed the brothers back when they got too close but also burnt and cut them as well.

King Bubba was able to get in a little closer. With a charge and a cry, he pushed through the torrent of wind with his Bastard sword pointed out in front of him. It split through the air like paper, though it got harder with each layer of her protective shield until he could push no further.

His cloak whipped around him wildly, as did his hair. I could see how tightly he was clenching his jaw and how wet his face was as his tears were blown away quickly. He could pierce no further, but he also was not getting pushed back either. 

The tip of his sword was about a foot from Yalora's heart and they stared into the eyes of each other. His eyes were filled with sadness and anger so powerful he could almost use it as his weapon other than the sword. She looked back at him as if there was never a person behind those eyes, to begin with. There were no emotions, no anger, no smugness, nothing.