The Eye Of The Storm (A Fantasy Romance Novel)

Midnight heavily loomed upon the vast city of Eideris. The city was fast asleep, slumbering like a wild bruin after voraciously feasting on its prey. It seemed dead to the world, with its arteries so dark and whist, it almost paralleled the chambers of the dead, only the corpses of the city had their hearts beating steadily and their blood warm beneath their skin.

But Ayra knew the true reason why the interminably clamouring city of Eideris had shut its doors with trembling and reluctant hands.

And why she was here. 

Silence crept into every crack of the metropolis, undoubtedly accompanied by an unsought guest. Ayra could feel it, in the eyes and hearts of the citizens, in every seep and crack of the buildings, in the wind that called out to every inch of her.

She could feel it.

Fear. Bone-chilling fear.

She tasted it in the air; that dark, vile thing that threatened to swallow her as a whole. Even as Ayra laid atop the brick wall at the dark end of the narrow alley, the familiar, raw, gut-piercing urge to draw pain and blood overpowered her fear, rattling her nerves to no end.

She raised her left hand to her face and stared at the deep gash in her palm. The blood had stopped flowing a minute ago and she wondered if she should cut a little deeper to fasten things up. Her hand throbbed with a dull ache but she didn't pay any heed to it. She'd ask Neslyn to patch up the wound up later. Later, that is, after they're done with this mission.

Her skin-tight Stygian fighting suit was as uncomfortable as it can get when remained stationary. So, for seeking a bit of comfort, she positioned one leg off the wall and started swinging it back and forth.

And waited.

Ayra wondered if Valda and Neslyn were done with their duties.

She sighed a beat later. Maybe not. The night had just begun, after all.

With an arm placed over her eyes, she waited. And waited.

And waited.

The moon shone brightly above, full and abandoned in the starless, cloudless sky. The pale light of the celestial body made the city look silvery and spectral under its inveterate gaze. Ayra could only imagine the people behind their fastened doors; sleepless, scared and hopeful for this night to be over and done with. 

She raised her wounded hand towards the night sky and stared at it. A gentle wind blew, softly picking up a few strands of her moon-kissed hair.

Ayra sighed in annoyance. Her patience was thinning and she contemplated leaping off the wall and conducting the search all by herself. She wanted to get done with this irksome mission and return home soon.

As if on cue, as if her prayers were answered by the Celestials above; she heard something—just a whisper of it, but the wind carried everything and Ayra always listened to the wind.

She heard it again, this time loud and clear. The low, guttural growl. Deep and hollow.

Her eyes flew open. They're here.

Ayra straightened and hung her legs off the brick wall, retreating to a sitting position. She braced her elbows on her knees and arched forward, her eyes sharply fixed on the dimly lit opening of the alley.

With every beat of her heart, the low rumble grew deeper and deeper, more hollow and more empty. It was haunting, like a dead man's yawn. A chill travelled down her spine, caressing every inch of her with cold thrill.

The alley began reeking with a smell as foul and fetid as a mutt's piss. She scrunched her nose in disgust but fixed her eyes at the opening.

The wind suddenly stilled around her. And then, they appeared.

Two enormous shadows stood in front of the opening. Ayra released a shuddering breath as she stared at them. Two. Two of those horrid creatures came in search of her. Most likely to make a dinner out of her tonight.

They slowly stalked towards her, like a predator leisurely sneaking upon its prey. Her unharmed hand instinctively rested on the hilt of her sword, Arcadius, resting on her hip.

They directly stood a few feet below, facing the wall. Her heart dropped to her stomach when she took in the sight of them.

Their limbs were long and their backs, arched. Their barren heads were permanently tilted in an eerie manner and their skin looked cadaverous and scaly. Ayra swore that if she touched them, their skin would feel firm and rubbery. Empty, milky white eyes shone under the pale light of the moon. Cruel and ancient. Blood and gore and flesh hung from their apical, rotten, needle-like teeth.

Bile rose in her throat at the gruesome sight. Ayra fought the urge to throw up.

And their arms, oh Celestials above, their arms extended towards large sharply pointed organs with edgeless, hollowed jaws that resembled the blades of a scissor.

Pincers, enormous ivory coloured pincers, that were used for gripping and ripping things apart.

Like flesh.

Her heart thundered against her ribs, a storm threatened to rise within her but she closed her eyes.

The wind grew restless.

Nightwalkers. Vicious, primal creatures that feed on human flesh and blood and bone. Nightwalkers, that had already fed upon a handful of humans stood before her.

Ayra paid enough concentration in her lectures to know that Nightwalkers, when having consumed more than two humans, are a force to be reckoned with. As far as her memory served, she recalled Barrowen, the Lord of Eideris, reporting that more than ten humans were killed by these horrendous creatures that were presently wreaking havoc in the city.

And they were mated. Ayra could see that. Because Nightwalkers normally hunted alone, but if seen in pairs—they are mated and will soon start building their nest nearby.

And the nest so happens to be the sewer system of this city.

And they were here to put an end to it.

The blind creatures began sniffing around, probably tracking the scent of her blood and the source of it.

With a wicked glint in her eyes, she leapt off the wall and smoothly landed on the ground.

The wind stirred.

The Nightwalkers lifted their heads and sniffed the blood on her injured hand, letting out a low, pleased growl at the scent. They moved closer, sniffing and looking around. Blind they may be, but their senses make up for that disadvantage. Ayra remained in the shadows, observing and waiting.

When they were close enough to lay a sword on their neck, she slowly stepped into the dim light, grinning. And simply said,

"Hello, monsters."

The creatures snapped their heads upon hearing her voice. As if sensing trouble, they lowered their heads and growled.

Ayra dared to smirk.

"Took you long enough," she said and slowly slid a finger down Arcadius's sharp edge.

The blade gleamed wickedly, like it was ready to draw blood. 

Her lips slowly pulled back into a small smile. 

"Shall we begin?"

The Nightwalkers just snarled in response.

"Tch tch tch. Enough with the growling and snarling already." She slid the blade above her wound, slightly, to draw a little blood. She refused to wince at the sharp pain.

With a thundering heart, she slowly raised her hand up, fingers splayed. The creatures' gaze immediately snapped to her hand and the blood trickling down as if their milky white eyes could see every drop of her blood. They released a low purr in response. 

The wind quietened and she said,

"Come."

The creatures launched at her.

She willed the storm inside her to unleash itself from its shackles, commanded the kernel of her power to obey her. With a vicious snarl of her own, she raised her unwound hand and released a blast of wind right through the chest of one of the Nightwalkers.

The creature, blind and slow, took a direct hit. Its body slammed against the wall, so hard that the wall cracked at the impact. It slid down the wall and a beat later, went limp on the ground.

Through her peripheral vision, she saw very large, very sharp claws coming for her head. And like the swift wind, she unleashed Arcadius. The sound of blade clashing with hard bone echoed through the dark alley, waking the night. Ayra leapt back, putting distance between herself and the Nightwalker. Those pincers were hard and mercilessly strong.

How troublesome.

The Nightwalker launched at her again and Ayra kept blocking and blocking and blocking, her Arcadius being the only ruthless barrier that kept her throat safe from the creature's malicious claws.

When the other creature on the ground started to stir, she cursed mentally. A strike came for her torso and Ayra leapt back just in time to avoid it. 

She clenched her jaw and launched her sword, aiming for the head. The Nightwalker, sensing it, immediately raised its heavy-clawed hands above its head for seeking protection. An opening.

Ayra swiftly retrieved her sword back. With a war cry, she raised her sword, aimed for the creature's chest and with all her strength, drove the sharp blade home.

The sound of her blade penetrating that pasty white flesh filled her ears. It was a heinous sound, really, but she paid no heed to it and shut her eyes close. When silence finally kicked in, she slowly opened them. 

The Nightwalker choked out blood—a translucent, thick bluish liquid that sprayed all over her fighting leathers. With a low snarl, the creature weakly clawed at the blade resting through its chest and then as if sensing her, sluggishly extended its claws towards her face. Ayra immediately sprang back, forcing a safe distance between her and the now dying creature. 

For a few heavy seconds she wordlessly stared at the monster fighting to stay alive. A sight like that should've made her feel victorious but all she felt was nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

"I apologize for not allowing enough time to say goodbye to your mate. But," she paused and tilted her head, "You didn't give that opportunity to the people you killed either. So, it's fine right?"

Swiftly unsheathing twin daggers from her boots, she slowly walked towards the Nightwalker again, who was now howling in pain. She palmed the hilt of her weapons and gazed at the milky white eyes.

Bodies—half-eaten bodies of children and women and men. Blood all over the place. The pale and drawn faces of the children who had no family now. Dull, empty eyes of individuals who had lost their dear ones. 

That's all Ayra saw. That's the only thing she saw. It flashed before her, as a reminder for a reason. A reason to kill.

Kill and don't regret.

"This is for the innocent mundanes that you brutally killed."

She closed her eyes and parted her lips, 

"Neither me nor my blade shall regret it." 

She kept it short and sweet. Even if these creatures didn't speak her language, she didn't care if the one before her understood or not.

With that, she raised the daggers and plunged it on either side of the creature's throat. The body jerked at the impact and it bellowed in pain. Ayra tuned it out and waited for the silence to fall. When it did, Ayra knew it was dead. 

She stepped forward to remove Arcadius from its body, ready to put an end to the other passed out Nightwalker, but she abruptly froze when she felt a presence behind her. So, so close.

Shit.

She stood there, frozen and alert. Warm breath caressed the back of her neck. It felt like death was breathing down at her.

A low, guttural sound reached her ears. Through her peripheral vision, she detected those vicious claws to her right. So, so close to her head.

Ayra palmed the hilt of her dagger and slowly turned the blade around. She dragged her hand across her chest and pointed the tip of the dagger over her left shoulder.

Stay still and it won't find you. Stay still and it won't sense you. Attack at the right time.

But the creature smelled it's mate's blood on her. And a beat later, Ayra heard a loud cry behind her.

Now.

She twisted her body towards her left the same moment those claws launched at her head towards her right. She didn't care if the claws would reach her and tear her apart, she'd make sure her dagger plunged itself deep inside the creature's throat.

But before she could do so, an earth-shattering growl reached her ears. 

When she completely whirled around, she saw the other Nightwalker on the ground, burning to the fiery pits of hell. A crystal red fire enveloped its entire body and the creature bellowed into the night, thrashing viciously on the ground. 

"Oh my, oh my. Ayra Sylvahnna needed a little rescuing today. How astonishing. Don't worry though, I won't let your devotees know of this little secret." A very very amused voice broke through the dreadful scream.

She turned towards her grinning best friend.

Ayra, despite having been so close to death, managed to smirk at the words and reply,

"They won't believe you. You are free to try though."

She rested her eyes on the screaming creature, her features turning solemn. 

"You can stop now."

The crimson bright flames immediately smothered into thin air. The smell of charred skin infiltrated her nose and she winced. But she knew the creature wasn't dead yet. 

Two figures stood on either side of her. Ayra dragged her gaze from the Nightwalker and finally looked at her friends. She released a shuddering breath of relief when she found no sign of injuries on Valda and Neslyn.

"What happened to the nest?" Ayra inquired. 

"Purged clean. Younglings and eggs, both. The sewer looks cleaner and neater than any other city sewer does," Valda exclaimed proudly, a smirk marring her face.

"And the injured people?"

Neslyn nodded her head, solemnly. "They are healed and alive."

Valda nodded her head towards the two Nightwalkers. "You found them."

Ayra sighed. "I didn't. They found me through the scent of my blood."

Valda frowned, "So, that was your grand plan in luring them to you?" A lock of her fiery crimson hair fell forward. She pushed it back impatiently.

Ayra simply shrugged.

"What do you mean? Blood? Whose blood?"

Neslyn was the one who asked, worry lacing every word.

Before Ayra could hide her hand or cook up an excuse, Neslyn's eyes immediately lowered to her injured hand and she gasped. She gently took her hand and raised her wide eyes to Ayra's face.

And then the scoldings poured in.

"How can you do this to yourself, Ayra? I know this mission is important but you can't hurt yourself like this. Oh Celestials above, the cut is so deep. Did you really have to do this? You're so careless–''

Neslyn went on and on. 

Ayra sheepishly grinned at her best friend. "I know, I know. Can you help me heal that?"

"You both take care of the wound while I go put an end to this monster. We don't want it walking again, do we?" Valda cracked her knuckles and raised her staff.

Ayra closed her eyes. "Make it quick but painful."

Neslyn glared at her but she pushed back her sleeves and placed her hand above Ayra's injured one. She closed her eyes and a soft, pale green glow enveloped her slender hand. A steady coolness kissed her skin and Ayra began to feel the wound close.

A throaty scream erupted into the night again. Ayra didn't look at what Valda was doing with the Nightwalker. Even Neslyn, who had her entire focus on patching up the wound, slightly faced away.

Neslyn removed her hand after a minute and smiled.

"All done."

Ayra flexed her fingers and it felt as good as new. She gazed at her palm and noticed a long, silver line run across the skin. She realised she was sick in the head to have smiled at the sight.

Another scar that tells a story.

"Now that you're all patched up and those two monsters are dead, let's leave this place. Our job here is done," Valda announced, walking towards them. Ayra didn't let her gaze wander to the Nightwalker lying dead behind her.

Neslyn shifted forward and nodded towards the two dead Nightwalkers on the ground.

"But what do we do with the bodies? We can't just leave them here."

Ayra took in a deep breath and walked towards the Nightwalker, dead and kneeling down on the ground with Arcadius in its chest. She placed a leg on the Nightwalker's shoulder and a hand on the hilt of her sword. With a harsh kick and strong pull, she freed her sword into the air.

Ayra wickedly smiled at the full moon and tilted her head. 

"I know a perfect place to dispose of these creatures."

Valda blinked for a beat or two then chuckled lowly, perfectly guessing what Ayra planned to do.

"Oh, oh, oh. You are unbelievable." An arm suddenly circled around her shoulders.

Valda wore a smile beside her.

"What are we waiting for then? Let's do it."

Ayra grinned back like the devil she was.

Beside them, Neslyn sent a silent prayer to the Celestials above.

The wind grew stronger, as if in agreement.