accipe me | Yumark

δέκατρία

»»--⍟--««

Calling it a fight wouldn't have been correct.

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Fight
verb

to take part in a violent struggle involving the exchange of physical blows or the use of weapons.

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This was hardly an exchange of physical blows. Lucien's expression had dropped from cocky to bothered when the Goddess stepped forward on her pointed toes, who in turn showed no signs of worry. After all, how was a limited devil in a weak body to compete with a Goddess of the sun?

The Goddess had blinked her glittering eyes, and what was once a unwavering gaze now burned golden hot flames. The air rumbled around her figure as her arm extended and a flaming baton appeared out of nowhere, slicing through the warm air. It was elegant, the way she moved, and astonishingly effortless and nimble, as though she wasn't two foot taller than the average human. But then of course she wasn't human.

That was something Mark had hated about the Goddesses; they were unsettlingly tall. The Mother Goddess that he so hated was the same height as Dami, and had they been indoors, their heads would have been just a few inches from the ceiling.

But then that was the only thing he despised about the sun goddess. In every other way, he thought she was remarkable.

He wasn't too sure whether he should have opened his eyes to witness the battle, but he did, and it was just in time to see the beautiful, silver baton spinning at impossible speeds above her head as the ground shook beneath their feet. Her hair was static and spiked and her eyes lit up brighter with every second that passed by.

Lucien's human body shuddered, eyes leaking the disgusting black down his face and chin, dripping into the dusty floor and seeping down his neck as he began conjuring a cloud of black between his hands.

But Mark's eyes were glued to the Goddess in awe. The air became thick and hot as Dami worked her magic, and the sparks in her hair crackled, and suddenly Lucien was down on the ground, his skin melting and words of incantations gurgled in his throat.

But the human.

Mark's eyes widened. What about the life of the human he had possesed?

What about the family he was leaving behind? The children he would miss?

In a blink, the body was destroyed, and it was just as the witch remembered that neither the devil nor the Goddess cared deeply enough about human life to consider saving him. He was just another bacteria on the petri dish.

Lucien's words were lost beneath the bubbles of goo climbing up his throat, and with the burn of an ancient sun, a muffled scream echoed from the limp body.

The air around the two hidden away from the battle thickened again, and suddenly Yuta was grabbing his wrist and saying, "I can't breathe."

Mark's eyes widened.

»»——⍟——««

"M-Mark, I-- I can't--"

»»——⍟——««

Not again.

His hand clamped over the Japanese's eyes just as divine light flooded the alleyway, and he licked his lower lip quickly to counter the dryness, and slipping his hand into Yuta's calm fingers, he said, "Yuta, I'm so sorry! I'm going to take you around the corner where the air is fresh, okay? Just don't open your eyes, please."