Fractured Worlds (Worlds Away #1)

Mae Chapter 57: Assault

World 64 had changed. From the graceful buildings to the extravagant works of architecture, the world was one that had conveyed beauty, commanded it even. Now, the buildings held a different tone, one of intimidation. The streets once filled with a humble and kind population were now overflowing with death's followers.

Not one of the eternals occupying this world stepped into my path. It took all my self control to leave them alone, to let the eternals roam this world as if it was theirs from the start. It was an atrocity that I had to ignore; Zerbelgrim was my only target. The revival of this world could be achieved another time.

All the eternals knew who I truly was, the name I had been born with. They whispered my name as I walked past, their eyes on me. I continued, head held high. No one stepped in my path, they let me go. They knew the power I held, what I was capable of. Even if they tried, they wouldn't have been able to stop me.

I approached the palace. The once flawless building that had been the gem of the city was not the same. The front section was gone, burnt earth and charcoal all that remained of the grand greeting room. The rest of the building was still standing, though covered in char marks, marring the beauty it had once held. Reconstruction was already underway to restore it back to its grand splendour, but it was never to be the same.

A crater laid in the middle of the courtyard, and behind it a newly installed gate at the top of the stairs. At it four guards waited. They stood to attention as I walked up the steps. I didn't stop as my foot hit the landing.

"Step aside." My command fell upon deaf ears. They rushed at me; weapons already drawn. I didn't halt in my approach. I met them head on.

I grabbed the wrist of the first guard, pushing his spear past me. With my second hand, I grabbed the weapon and twisted my body. Swiftly, I broke his grip on the spear. The guard tumbled down the stairs, but I didn't watch him make it to the bottom before two other guards were upon me.

I threw the spear with impeccable accuracy. The fourth guard slumped to the ground, the shaft of the spear protruding from his chest. I drew my sword as I sidestepped the second guard's sword, bringing my own up. I sliced his wrist, causing him to drop the blade. I grabbed the sword from the air with my other hand. With a pivot, I stood between the guards. They froze in their steps, my two swords thrust through their chests. I pull back, the bodies crumpling to the ground. I continued, discarding the second blade. It clanged down beside its owner. I didn't care that his memory would be disgraced, for he had died upon his own blade. Zerbelgrim was my only goal, and the guard had tried to stop me.

With a flick, the blood scattered from my blade. My sword didn't let me down. The weight of it was too familiar, filling the hole I didn't know I had. This was the blade I was meant to wield, the one destined for me.

With a swift cut to the lock, the gate sprang open for me. I sheathed my sword and continued. As I approached the grand front doors, I sensed an approaching figure. He was trying to remain silent, to take me by surprise, but it wasn't enough. I could still hear his soft footfalls, his laboured breathing, even the almost inaudible sound of the dagger being drawn. I let the guard think that I didn't hear him. I let him believe that he had the upper hand; he didn't know that I never lost it.

I sidestepped the attack, the dagger stabbing only air. The guard stumbled forward, unprepared for my evasion. I grabbed his wrist and pulled him forward, taking his weapon with no resistance. The guard's momentum made it easy enough for me to throw him into the palace doors. They burst open with a bang, slamming into the walls in an expressive display of force. The guard hit the polished floor of the throne room and slid. He didn't get back up.

There, seated on the throne, was Zerbelgrim. He sat with dignity, somewhat surprised at my dramatic entrance. His sword sat beside the seat. The sight sickened me, to see a half-eternal sit where my ally once had, a great man that he now taunted with sitting in that throne.

I paused in the doorway, the long wicked dagger in my hand. My coat billowed around me, my loose hair gently tossed in the wind. I let the shadows conceal me, as I waited for what I knew was coming. Sure enough, two more guards came around the door, swords already drawn.

I wasted no time. I ducked under the first's sword, the dagger in my hand claiming his life. In the same movement, I whirled around, slashing at the second's throat. Finishing my spin, I let the dagger fly. At the thud of the impact, the two bodies collapsed to the floor.

The knife sank hilt deep into the throne, quivering beside Zerbelgrim's head. He had only moved a millimetre, but I had nicked his cheek, a thin line of blood welling up. The half-eternal looked at the blade, smirked, then returned his gaze to me. I finally walked into the room.

Zerbelgrim rose, pulling the dagger from the back of the throne. He took the steps down from the elevated seat with grace, striding towards me with his sword in hand. There was a subtle limp in his step, masked well, but not well enough. Satisfaction grew at the realisation that his wound was still not fully healed.

Zerbelgrim's eyes looked at the sword fastened on my hip. "Kahreesh, if I'm not mistaken," he said, nodding towards the blade. "That is your sword, not your brother's. It's unlike you not to wield his."

"Wielding my own was only suitable considering what I'm doing," I said simply. I stopped my approach, Zerbelgrim copying me. We only stood a few steps apart now. I drew Kahreesh and twisted it around. Zerbelgrim made no move to draw his own sword.
"Running to your death, just like your brother," he said, tilting his head as a small smirk grew on his face.

I gritted my teeth. "You know, it amazes me that you are like this, considering who your mother was. She sacrificed her life to save her people, and you stand there enjoying death."

"Oh, so you did find out about her," Zerbelgrim said, not shocked that I knew the information, or of it. "I was wondering how long it would take for you to come running to me and try to convince me of the truth."

"You aren't surprised that I have this information?" I asked. "You got the USB in the end."

Zerbelgrim smiled. "I knew that it was a fake the moment we left. It took me a while to piece together how that happened though."
"Enlighten me," I challenged. "How did you know I had it from the start?" I didn't even know how that happened. Perhaps Zerbelgrim could give me the missing piece I was looking for.

"As you say." He glanced down to the dagger in his hand, playing with it. He looked back up to me and began recounting the events. "When I arrived, Charlotte moved closer to you. That was when the USB first moved. She slipped it into your coat pocket. I, of course, noticed this. I let you get close enough to me so I could claim it, and that happened when you stabbed my leg."
"Didn't know you were such an efficient pick pocketer."

"There's a lot my father taught me. That's just the tip of the iceberg."

"Continue," I said.

Zerbelgrim listened to me. "From what Dewitt has been able to figure out, when Charlotte got the USB back, she switched it in her pocket with another. Dewitt grabbed the one she had her hand on, which was the fake USB. When Grim arrived, Charlotte passed the real one to Edoline while the A-Team covered her. Little did Grim know that he jumped the real USB away with Edoline. Imagine how well that worked in your favour." He shook his head, still twirling the dagger in his hand.

"What happened to Charlotte?" I demanded.

"Oh, she's still alive, for now. You shouldn't be worrying about her though. Your life is in much more danger right now."

The dagger flew from his hand with no hesitation. My sword flashed up in an instant. Metal against metal rang in the air, but we were both already moving.

Our blades met, and we recoiled then struck again. Zerbelgrim was lightning fast, but with a single-handed sword I kept pace with him. I ducked around a swing, throwing him one of my own. His sword blocked my attack. I hooked my foot behind his, and when I tried to wipe his feet from under him, he used it to his advantage. The half-eternal flipped in the air, his sword flashing upwards. I felt it nick my jaw, but it didn't draw blood. I backed away as Zerbelgrim landed.

We watched each other, noting anything that could be used against the other. We were anxious to engage, twisting our swords and constantly adjusting our stance. But we held back, waiting for the right moment.

Then we launched, the fight on once more.