TW: Violence

The sounds of metal clashing against each other could be heard.  There were also numerous voices of men exerting their breaths into battle cries,  unsure of their survival against the suffocating place of the battlefield.  It's either make it or die - that's the only choice they had.   In the middle of the chaos,  a huge magic circle entered the fray - shimmering with blue light in the middle of the death stricken place.

The people who were on each other's throats,  locked their individual gazes to one another as blood trickled down from their wounds.  None of them knew who would be coming out of the magic circle but there was desperation echoing through the hearts of the fighters who were fighting for their land - the cat people whose numbers trimmed down and are at a disadvantage to the catastrophe. For some cat-people soldiers who already lost their hope,  ready to die out of honor and their enemies who were already full of themselves - they never cared of its arrival and their relentless attacks didn't falter until one of them lay lifeless on the blood smeared land.

The magic circle pulsed and with a silent hiss,  five figures arrived on the battlefield with it.  Two of them,  Anthony and Aegir, were new to the face of war.  As soon as their eyes registered the carnage,  their eyes went wide in terror as they stumbled forward. They already anticipated the gravity of the situation but witnessing the real thing is traumatic.

"Dear God... " All Anthony could say,  his voice was trembling,  his heart was beating wildly against his chest. 

He wanted to tear his gaze from what he's seeing but the cold dread he was feeling made him struck motionless.  Just ten meters away from them,  a cat-person screamed as he drew his last breath,  his face a mask of horror.  A hulking brute orc from the enemies' side clad in black armor cleaved him into two with a single,  brutal swing from his double-edged ax.  The cat-person's screams died down in a choked gurgle.  Its impact sent a spray of crimson across the ground as his body fell with a loud thud.  Anthony's stomach lurched,  he wanted to throw up.  He had seen dead people before but seeing an individual being murdered up close is not the sight he was prepared to see.

The person next to Anthony,  Aegir,  stood there with a blank face.  No words could reach his throat but his system screamed with fear and out of anger at what he's seeing, his knuckles were tightly crumpled; stopping himself from making reckless decisions. The land where the battle was supposed to be was an empty space near the town where cat-people's children used to play. Aegir could remember that there was a tree house somewhere here but now all he could see was dirt, rubbles, and blood everywhere. The once place where laughter of children could be heard was now reduced to a desolate place stenched with screams of anguish.

It was unforgivable.  Those people have the audacity to ruin people's lives out of their thirst for power. "Do you have some orders for us,  Artemisia? " Aegir asked,  his voice was unusually cold - devoid of his usual beam.  It was deep baritone,  narrow enough for burying someone.

Artemisia could understand Aegir's sentiments.  Her face was serious as she pointed in different directions.  "Let's go,  survive! Be sure to finish their generals! " She ordered,  making all of them make their battle positions. They were arranged by the usual line up.  Vin was with Anthony and Aegir for support.

Aegir's eyes pierced sharply,  calling forth his gauntlets.  "Claws out, " he murmured,  soon enough claws erupted from his weapon.  The blades glinted dangerously,  prepared to hunt its new prey.

Anthony and the others could see the menacing aura Aegir was releasing.  One of them,  Vin,  never expected this reaction but perhaps the thought of seeing his birthplace ruined weighed more than Aegir's fear and hatred towards the cat elders.

"Go! " Artemisia roared a signal and it was that moment where each of them entered the battlefield.

It was Aegir who striked first,  plummeting his gauntlet towards an orc's face who were attacking a disadvantaged soldier. A small crack was heard; signifying it was strong enough to break a bone.  The intensity of Aegir's fist caused his enemy to stumble on the ground as a guttural roar escaped its lips. 

The soldier immediately scurried away from the scene,  terrified of the sudden intrusion of someone capable of bringing an orc to its knees.  Anthony and Vin's expression was no different,  they were taken aback by Aegir's sudden action.

It was Aegir's pure physical strength that caused the uproar,  he didn't use magic yet nor did Vin casted an enhancement on him.  Perhaps it's his feelings that amplified his blows.

Aegir's forest-green eyes slit venomously,  his voice was cold and harsh;  his fist raised upward.  " I hope I wasn't interrupting the fun.  You're a bad clown,  anyways,  " he rumbled.  He didn't wait for his enemy to speak or get up to his feet,  Aegir lunged forward;  delivering a swift kick to the orc's massive exposed belly,  sending a shockwave to its frame. 

Aegir glared at his enemy as he sent a relentless barrage of fists to its body.  The orc thrashed desperately to escape Aegir's heavy assault but Aegir's strength was no match to it.  He kept on pounding and pounding,  his ears, deaf to his enemy's gasps.  Slowly,  the resistance waned, replaced by a deadly stillness.  Aegir finally drew back his fist,  blood was dripping from it.

"Aegir! " Anthony worriedly called Aegir's name,  aware of why Aegir was acting this way.  This is the first time he saw him in this state but somewhere in his heart he was also proud of him for being this strong.

"Anthony,  eyes on the battlefield! " Vin reminded him as one mage was aiming at him with a spell. Anthony immediately placed his attention towards the mage's direction;  summoning his shears and coated it with two different magics he learned earlier.

In a blur,  Anthony was face to face with the astonished mage.  He tried to cast a quick powerball to throw it against Anthony but his resistance was deemed futile; with a resonating thwack, Anthony's powerful kick led to the mage's wooden staff clattering away from his grasp.  The mage's eyes widened in terror as he tried to ramble some chants for a quick spell. His foe's eyes surveyed on the battlefield as if trying to find a suitable bait for his spell.

But Anthony was no idiot nor an anime character who will wait for his enemy to finish casting their moves.

"I am sorry,  " Anthony mouthed softly,  inhaling deeply before making another move.  His shear hung heavy on his grasps,  there's hesitation crawling in his heart after all,  it's his first time to kill other beings apart from that one orc on his last mission and countless of undead.

But it was clear to him that if he decided to stop,  the mage will not waste time and will try to kill him and if he'll continue to chicken out on this place - he'll be the one dead - he couldn't afford that!

Taking a shuddering breath,  Anthony offered no respite to his enemy,  he surged forward, raising his shears high. Anthony slashed his enemy.  It didn't only injure his enemy but its life-draining skill drained the mage's vitality bit by bit until moisture left its body.  By the time his blade lowered,  his foe lay still - motionless,  its skin in a liquified state.

"What the? " Anthony blinked repeatedly,  his breath came a little quicker as his pulse picked up the pace.  A stunned expression was laced all over his face as he shot a look on his shears and the disheveled corpse on the ground. 

His eyes never left the corpse,  his throat ran dry trying to reach for a plausible explanation on what he had seen.  "Did I do this? " The question echoed on his mind like a broken record.  He's a student studying forensics and it was impossible for a corpse to turn into the active decay stage after death.

It only took two swift slashes for his weapon to drain all of the mage's life force.  Normally,  it sucks away vitality slowly, making the enemy weaker as the fight progresses.  But this time it was entirely different - is it because of the improved magic he placed on its blades? Or did he really become powerful?

There were a lot of thoughts rushing through his mind and he wanted them all to be answered but he'll surely be the one dead if he keeps on entertaining his thoughts.

"Not now! " Anthony slammed his eyes shut,  forcing down a surge of nausea. He couldn't afford to dwell on this.  He needed to find Aegir and support him.  His Aegir was no damsel in distress but still he won't leave him alone.

'Yes,  that's right,  move you idiot! ' Anthony berated himself in his mind.  He and his mind both know that they couldn't afford any bad things that might happen to Aegir.

Even if it means bathing himself with the blood of his enemies to reach him - he'll oblige in a heartbeat.

His eyes scanned the surroundings,  all he could see was soldiers fighting each other.  Not far from him was Vin shooting his enemies with arrows.  There were also numerous golems under his command,  stomping and throwing his foes that were trying to come near him with ease. 

He nodded,  deciding to leave Vin be.  The bunny was supposed to be a healer but sometimes he refused to believe Vin was one. There's nothing holy about Vin, especially now there was a smug look laced on his face,  taunting his enemies. That's one corrupted being,  yep.

"Alright! Wait for me,  Aegir!" Anthony ran,  carving a path for himself on the battlefield.  The sound of his blades clashing through that of his enemies could be heard,  its sound echoing to the screams and shouts that were already present in the place.

Anthony spun his blade, piercing through an enemy's armor.  "Get out of my way! " He hissed as he panted slightly,  a sheen of sweat forming on his brow. One shear found its mark,  embedded deep on one of his foe's chest.  Anthony was fast enough to react when there was an orc approaching,  wielding a claymore. He yanked back his weapon creating a metallic screech.

Frustration bubbled inside of him, a thought erupted from his mind. 'How many more bastards does their enemy have? They just keep on coming! ' Anthony was not having it,  if he would follow his intrusive thoughts,  he'll scream on each of these ugly-ass faces but he's aware that it won't do anything.

Their countless intrusions delay him from finding Aegir.  He just wants to finish wiping their asses fast. Anthony never had anger issues before maybe because he was used to bottle everything and now it's all pouring freely.

Two other enemies charged at him, Anthony frowned in annoyance.  With a flick of his wrist,  he launched his other shear high up in the air.  It became a blur of silver against the backdrop of smoke and fire,  before it could complete its purpose; Anthony bent over to reach another enemy,  another mage wearing a velvet robe, their hand was waving arcane symbols, trying to chant another spell.

"Shut up! " A snarl escaped Anthony's lips,  his power coated fist found its way slamming against the mage's face,  the impact of the blow sent his enemy skull- first onto the cold ground.

Anthony summoned back his shear again which immediately found its place on his hand again.  He used both of his weapons to deflect the countless streaks of arrows heading into his direction.  His jaw hardened as he fixed his sharp penetrating gaze towards the perpetrator - a female siren who was preparing to launch another set of arrows with a conceited expression written all over her face.

"You're just lucky.  " The siren managed to taunt him,  her voice was high pitched resembling that of a broken speaker or an untuned musical instrument making Anthony's nose crinkled.  He just wished for her to shut up but she's still going.

"Let's see now! " She took another arrow from her quiver.

Anthony glared at the archer.  He surged forward,  deflecting the new sets of arrows again and again.  He raised his hand to release a fireball - a combination of his usual violet flame and his uncle's crimson curse energy. He aimed it towards the siren who had that confident look on her face. Anthony fought the urge to say something unpleasant but it's already at the back of his tongue.

"Get lost! "

The siren opened her mouth to release a sonic wave against Anthony's fireball but they underestimated Anthony's ability,  it didn't do anything to stop it,  nor it affected Anthony who was intelligent enough to encase himself with a barrier he saw his uncle Trace had done before. 

The siren tried to run away from the approaching fireball but it felt like its energy was sucking her away.  As she fixed their gaze towards the hissing fireball,  her heart skipped its beat due to how eerie looking it was. It was a mixture of purple and crimson,  it wasn't that large but there was something on its flame dancing around the ball that made her want to run away from it.

The fireball hit her skin seconds later.  It was brief,  she couldn't keep up on what was happening.  She didn't feel any pain at all until her body reduced to a pile of black - only shadow remained. It was only that moment when the siren realized that she's dead and when the pain finally registered.

-

The battlefield roared with a cacophony unlike any Saxon had ever heard. Cries of pain from wounded cat-folk, their fur matted with blood, pierced the air. Some, still conscious, watched in horrified fascination as a lone cat-person fought a horde of enemies. There were also expressions of judgements mixed in their eyes,  afterall,  their savior was a demúgnir,  a detestable being.

Saxon, the village chief's son and heir, was among them who were saved from death. His voice was hoarse from screaming orders, his legs useless, pools of blood beneath him. "You shouldn't be here! Get out!" he rasped, desperation lacing his voice. "Run before the elders find you!" The pain he was feeling was unbearable but it felt like nothing compared to the heaviness his heart felt.

His pleas were lost on the figure in the distance. It was Shiloah, his younger brother, or Aegir, the name he'd adopted in exile. Saxon had tried for years to keep Shiloah away from this place, the place that branded him cursed and the same land that planned to kill him. Yet, here he was. No one will help him if the elders caught him even if he had risked his life to save them now.  For them,  the elders' words are absolute.

Despite the passage of time, their resemblance was undeniable. Saxon, with his rough, manly features, shared his forest green eyes and ashen locks with Aegir. The color of their cat ears and tail was also similar - they could even pass as fraternal twins but Saxon was born a year before Aegir.

Saxon was glad to see his brother alive and well but his heart was bleeding,  tears making his eyes stung.  "You didn't have to do this... please... " he tried to reach Aegir again which in turn just spared him a glance with a small smile written on his face.

Saxon frantically turned his attention to the other cat-people,  his tone was now begging,  "You shouldn't tell this to the elders,  promise that you will stay silent!  " His companions just looked at him,  none of them spoke and it made Saxon's mind filled with anxiety.  His brother was in danger...maybe he should just shield his body to protect him.  He'll accept the severity of their punishments,  he just doesn't want to lose another brother again in their hands.

'I hated it... to be the only one surviving when all of them were already gone.  Why...it has to be me? '

Saxon's choked sob wracked his body, he clutched his chest tightly as agony coiled inside of his heart.  If only he was strong enough to fight,  Shiloah won't have to step up for them. But who will protect him when the time comes? "Shiloah... Shiloah... " he whispered his name,  the state of his brother before was still fresh on his mind.  He was beaten black and blue when he was still a kid.

And they said they will behead him in front of everyone.  It was just luck that helped him to let Shiloah escape and lied that it was him who killed his brother.  He was hailed as a hero but the very title... became a heavy burden.

'I don't want it... '

He wanted to stop him but he didn't know how.  All he could do now is to cry and pray that his brother will manage to make it alive.

'Please... '

The air crackled with a strange energy. Aegir battled ten foes, but the most bizarre sight was five enemies fighting their own comrades. An eerie pink light bound them, thin threads connecting them to Aegir. Their contorted faces spoke of a struggle against an unseen force. Two of their allies, a knight and a mage, had tried in vain to sever the pink strings, their attacks proving useless.

"What did you do, you cat-bastard?!" roared an enemy wielding a barbed spear, he was one of the generals, fortunate enough to evade Aegir's magic. He lunged at Aegir, who met the attack with razor-sharp claws, severing the spear tip inches from his face.

"Perhaps," Aegir retorted, a tinge of irritation in his voice, "if you hadn't waged war here, none of this would be happening. You were about to finish them off. What do you expect me to do, be happy about it?" Aegir's voice dripped with sarcasm, his eyes flickering to the wounded cat-folk, one of them the very same Saxon who'd saved him years ago. He was here to repay a debt, and the enemy's cruelty disgusted him.

Aegir just lost it when he saw his brother with his head hung low,  just waiting for the blade to strike him dead.  He could understand his pleas that the elders won't be thrilled to see him here but he has the power now to make them if they tried to do something funny.

The spear wielding general smirked.  "Don't be too confident,  dirty cat! " The blade from the spear that was severed sprang back,  it glowed silver against the general's magic. 

In a flash,  the two remaining enemies,  one wielding a rapier and a sturdy shield, staged their attack on Aegir from his back.

Aegir laughed softly.  His master Vin,  with his lazy ass, was way faster than this when they spar.  "Your coordination was impressive but sadly not enough! " With a powerful kick,  Aegir sent the spear sprawling.  Aegir summoned his serpent-like ribbon magic to hold the scheming enemies on his back,  bringing them upwards and slamming their bodies to the ground.

Aegir leaned forward to the general whose face registered nervousness, his breathing came in desperate gulps as if he was having a hard time breathing.  "Artemisia's order is to capture a general,  you know what it means,  right? " Aegir smiled sweetly,  he immediately seized the opportunity and delivered a strong punch on the general's jaw.  The general crumpled down to the ground,  he passed out with his eyes still opened.

Aegir grimaced watching his enemy.  "That's disgusting! " he commented,  even kicked his jaw lightly,  enough for his head to loll on his side.

It was also that time that the remaining five enemies who were fighting each other fell unconscious. It was not the fight that drained them but the pink energy around them that took away their mana.

Aegir faced the direction where his brother Saxon was,  he waved at him with a happy smile.  "You're safe now... brother! " he beamed but Saxon's expression was something he never expected.  It was laced with terror as if he had seen a ghost,  his hands were trembling as his tears kept on falling.

"Run! " Saxon's voice cracked as he screamed.  But it was too late,  Aegir didn't have the time to react.  A strong grip was now on his neck,  the owner of the hand raised him to the ground.  Aegir choked,  trying to punch the hand away from his neck but no matter what resistance he did,  it weighed nothing.

Aegir gasped for air, his vision blurring at the edges. The attacker, a cat-person with chilling red eyes and a cruel smirk, was eerily familiar. It was Pućella, the most feared elder of the Cat's Coven, his cold gleam mirroring the one Aegir had just extinguished.

Saxon begged and cried for his brother to be spared.  "Please...don't hurt him! He saved us! " Saxon tried to crawl his way towards Pućella,  not minding the pain of his bloodied legs. 

Pućella's intimidating gaze found its way towards Saxon who trembled in fear.  Pućella's grip never left Aegir's neck.  "Don't order me around,  kid.  You know what it means.  You kept this cursed being alive! " Saxon was engulfed in a dark orange light. A heart-wrenching scream ripped from Saxon's throat as he coughed up blood, his hand reaching desperately for his brother.

The air crackled with a sudden shift. A chilling sensation slithered down Pućella's spine, it was new to him and he loathed it. The once brown earth morphed into an inky black, a shadow swallowing the world. An unseen presence descended, heavy and ominous, like the embrace of death itself.

A hand, cold and heavy like a grave digger's, clamped onto Pućella's shoulder. "Let go of my Aegir! " He looked up to meet a pair of golden orbs blazing with fury. Anthony, his face contorted in cold rage, drained the strength from Pućella. The cat-elder felt his bones about to shatter under the crushing grip.

Pućella had no time to react, the man was fast to rescue Aegir who was now enveloped in his embrace. Aegir coughed repeatedly,  his eyes watered while his hands desperately clung on Anthony's shoulder.  "Master... you're here... " Aegir whimpered,  burying his face on Anthony's chest.  Anthony softly kissed Aegir's head,  glad that he was not too late.

Saxon, weak but alive, witnessed his brother's rescue. A wave of relief washed over him as he saw the concern etched on Anthony's face. "So,  you found someone nice,  didn't you,  Shiloah? " Saxon chuckled with joy before his head rolled back and he fell unconscious.

Pućella realized how badly he messed up when he saw the man's wrath-filled eyes settle on him,  there was a dark aura dancing around him as if it was alive and was sending him watchful glances - waiting for the moment it could feast on him.

He sold his people to their enemies,  confident that no one could stop them.  According to the intel,  this man must be the Raven.  They were told the person was not a threat.

But the way death was slowly crawling into his skin proved otherwise.

-

Artemisia surveyed the battlefield,  her silver locks whipped freely by the wind's erratic little dance.  She stood tall amidst the numerous corpses sprawled before her as smoke gushed out of the caters,  ripping the very land.  It was the product of a large-scale magic that had transpired before the grim reaper consumed the place. Artemisia's eyes,  glowing an intense amethyst,  the obvious hint of the being who ransacked the place with their incredible abilities.

Her usual eye color was that of gold but when time comes she'll release a huge amount of magic - it'll turn purple - an eye color unique to her race.

Artemisia sighed,  her eyes laced with sadness.  The once vibrant houses built in this place are now raised into smoldering heaps.  The huge wishing fountain placed on the center of the town was now filled with blood; scattered across its bloodied pavements were lifeless forms of the cat-folks that were unfortunate to escape the place.

Tears streamed down on her face,  she placed her hand over her chest offering a silent prayer to those who died.  “I will end this,  I promise,  ” she whispered faintly.  This chaos started with her and she'll make sure it'll end with her.  There were already so many lives that lay waste and too many missed opportunities to do something against it.

A chilling sound pierced the heavy silence - Artemisia heard a slow rhythmic clapping from someone who just arrived at the place.  A jolt ran down her spine as her eyes darted forward to meet the sight of a person from her distant past - there stood Hale,  the victim turned villain she failed to protect.  His crimson eyes gleamed in amusement.  The sound of footsteps he made towards her was eerily normal,  as if he was just taking a stroll in the park.  His hair was neatly combed in a rather formal fashion.  But the fresh blood that stained his face and clawed hands tell a different story.  It wasn't his own blood that was there,  it was that of those who he killed.

“My,  my,  what a lucky opportunity meeting you here.  '' Hale was smiling at her,  he even took a graceful bow as a show of respect but Artemisia knew that it was all to spite her and she should never lower her ground to him but at least she wants to apologize to him.  It was her failure that created everything.

"Hale..." Artemisia's voice cracked, guilt lacing her every syllable. But before she could finish her words, a sharp hiss cut her off. Hale, his eyes gleaming with a glint, silenced her with a finger pressed to his lips.

“There's no need to apologize!  ” A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, rising in pitch until it morphed into a chilling, unhinged laugh. “That's a good joke,  really! ” He threw his head back, his amusement a horrifying counterpoint to the scene of devastation around them.

"Apologies?" he spat, the humor vanishing from his voice as fast as it had appeared. His face twisted into a cruel sneer. "Do you think it can mend the damage it has done? Y'all must be delusional! “ With a quick flick of his wrist,  he propelled a sphere of blood from his palm.  It pulsed with a malevolent light,  it hurled towards Artemisia.  ”Taste this! ”

Artemisia reacted with her honed reflexes,  she quickly evaded the attack.  It exploded on the shattered remnants of a nearby house. 

”Tsk,  tsk, “ Hale clucked,  a wide smile twisting his features.  ”You should be number two,  I was trying to find the Raven,  I bet he's here.  But too bad I ran into you... ” Hale's lips formed into a fake frown.  ”But no matter! The Raven is an easy prey to kill! “

The mere mention of the Raven,  Anthony,  sent a jolt of fury coursing on her veins.  ”I will not let you hurt him! ” Her gaze locked intensely into Hale's.  Her normal hands contorted,  morphing  into razor-sharp dragon claws.  It cackled with purple flames of magical energy.

Hale's laughter echoed in the place.  His heart was itching to taste the bittersweet taste of his long awaited vengeance.

Across the battlefield,  Anthony and Aegir,  together with Trace who was dragging two bodies with him, were making their way towards the Cat's Coven village - seeking Artemisia,  bearing an important news for the sake of their goals.

There you have it! There's still part two of the fighting scene between Hale and Artemisia on the next chapter + the trial.  My brain was badly toasted because of this chapter.  Izz so hard.

vocabulary:

demúgnir - sinner