Nocte Yin: Anti-Villain, Anti-Hero and Anti-Everything Else

Chapter Thirty-Two

“My,” Farhat chuckled, “we’re back, I see.”

Nocte smirked, another Ice Sword shooting out from her left hand.

Seventh Pawn taken.

Knight to B5.

She raised her sword to deflect one of the soldiers, running it through with her other sword. Just as soon, she used her momentum to slice through two others, ducking once to both avoid a glaive and to trip an adversary. Impaling one soldier to the ground, she deftly cleaved another at her side, and then flung the sword behind to pierce the soldier making to strike Chantée. Conjuring a third Ice Sword to replace the second, Nocte cast an Ice that bombarded the field with small icicles that pierced through the ice-soldiers like stalagmites.

With her exhale, the field returned to its flat, faceless plain.

The soldiers were gone; she spun to face the Darkness, only just dodging his blade. She refused to look at him too closely, her vision starting to become unfocused as Doctor’s Spell was beginning to wear off. She could only gasp in relief when Doctor’s Burst threw the Darkness aside, only for him to be replaced by another mass of ice-soldiers she sliced through like pine bushes.

She barely blinked when another of Doctor’s Bursts came from her left, allowing him access to the epicentre of the chaos. They exchanged a nod, the Lucent wiping blood from the corner of his mouth as he came to her side. They faced the enemy troops.

“Sorry, I’m late,” Doctor said, Healing his mouth. “How’s your wound?”

Nocte hadn’t checked, but the uncomfortable sting was still there. It had been easy to ignore until he mentioned it. “Fine.”

She turned to face the Darkness and Doctor stiffened.

“You all right?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said. “You take the Evil and I’ll take the Darkness.”

Doctor hesitated, Chantée whimpered on the ground and Farhat gave her a bracing look.

“You sure?” Doctor asked.

Nocte placed her back to his. “Yes.”

“He’s your father,” he tested.

Nocte had placed the fact aside, but she had not forgotten.

She had not forgotten the branches, the stars, and the wind — the web, the eyes, and the voices — the raw hurt of the forgery, hoax and Faery lies. She had not forgotten how she had reached for him, hands stretching — fingers straining — nails scraping, only for him to vanish into the air like vapour.

She had not forgotten how she had held him in the dark, covered in his blood, let his energies slip from her hold.

She remembered how foolish and frantic she had been — a spawn unworthy of her sire — a daughter unworthy of his name.

His name — the one he had inherited from his children.

But he was not her father.

“I know,” Nocte said.

He was just some fuck who put a hole through her body.

A brief pause—

Knight lost.

—and then they both charged to opposite ends of the battle — the Light towards the Great Evil, and the Lady Necromancer to the Darkness.

She had never been good at chess, as Dire could attest to.