My Raphtalia, My Queen (Raphtalia x male reader)

Chapter 46: The Shadow

"W-Who are you? How do you know my name?" Raphtalia asked, stammering. A dusty, blood-red smile was etched in the plain dark void where the creature's face was. 

"Call it a gift of mine" boomed the voice. It sounded masculine, but not very mature. Almost upon the lines of her age. "I know everything about everyone. A slave girl swinging from one master to the next. Helplessly lonely." taunted the spirit. "And, no longer a virgin."

Raphtalia gritted her teeth, and an inappropriate blush radiated on her cheeks. "What do you want?" growled Raphtalia, her eyes blaring in fury. 

"What do I want? Well, personally I'd love to live in a little cottage with a beautiful elven wife. But, life often has other plans." said the spirit. "For example, I'm meant to die today. Dunno when, dunno how, but it will be today. Alas, such is the cruel fate for a follower of Gilada." 

Raphtalia's ears perked up at that name. "Gilada? What do you mean by that?" 

The spirit sighed and readied his blade, neon blood running along the serrated edges. "Eh, doesn't matter. I'm being compelled to kill you, and I must obey my master." The shadow flung itself towards Raphtalia. Twin squeals of iron cried out as their blades clashed; sparks floating momentarily in the air. Metallic blows ripped through the thundering gunfire around them as Raphtalia and the shadow locked horns. It was quick, supernaturally quick. Raphtalia couldn't get a moment to breathe as she was forced onto the defensive. The shadow's jagged shortsword collided with Raphtalia's heroic longsword for a brief moment. A murky, blood-red smile glowed from the void-like face. A replica sword appeared in its other hand and slashed at Raphtalia's leg. Blood oozed out from the deep cut, causing Raphtalia to stumble. The shadow grinned maniacally as he sliced at Raphtalia with unnatural speeds, shredding her flesh and splashing her ripped clothes with warm blood. She wailed in pain and fell downwards, dropping her sword with a clank.

The walk from there on out was rather monotonous, aside from a few stragglers that Ayaka quickly dealt with. You noted her use of that twinblade. She didn't just swing it, she danced with it. Her movements weren't rigid or random, but elegant and flowery. She flowed like water and hit like a rapid. The dim lights you were provided illuminated another small group of spiders ahead, feasting on some goblins who seemed to have gotten lost in the natural catacombs. Before a shot was even fired, the elf sprinted forward like a vengeful wind. She was an artist, in a sense: her weapon her brush, the cave her canvas, and blood her paint. A tapestry was told in just a few moments. One of pain, regret, and perhaps even redemption? 

The elf wandered in the back of the group, her eyes scanning every nook and cranny. You walked up to the side of her. She glanced at you but remained fixated on the stone-carved networks of this great mountain. 

"So, Ayaka...tell me about yourself." She gave you a funny look.

"None of your concern," she said.

"Well, sure, but it's still nice to know," you argued back. Ayaka gave another weird glance at you.

"You sure are chatty for a guy who might be dead soon," said Ayaka. "But fine. I'm a barmaid at a local bar. I serve mainly soldiers. I'm from a wood elf family, went off to gain independence, la-di-da-di-da." 

You nodded and returned your attention elsewhere. She wasn't going to crack, at least not now. The group continued to make their way through the cavern until a fork in the road stopped you in your tracks. On the left lay the entrance to an abandoned hanger. The bi-planes should be in there. The dwarves cheered at their sweet victory. Soon, this siege will be over. And over could not come sooner enough. On the right, however, was a mysterious flight of stairs that led upward. The group began to make their way towards the hanger until time seemed to freeze to a stop. A voice cried out in your head.