Chapter XV

(Warning! This chapter includes sensitive themes such as blood, torture and death. If you’re not comfortable with the aforementioned subjects, please DO NOT proceed further. Thank you!)

“What are you doing here, Florencius”,

The magician seethed, gripping the blaring gold handle of her weapon, pushing it further to the man’s throat making it bleed in tiny ruby droplets.

Unknown wind in hues of shining deep yellow and teal came out of nowhere, circling around two dimmed silhouettes within the devoid hall, creating quite a strong hurricane that blew the flickering candle lights near their location.

It was taunting, the wind— howling in challenge to the magician who merely curved his lips in amusement alike that of a child who discovered that a strawberry molded candy was flavored citrus.

“Just strolling around. I never had the chance to explore Celeste’s grounds. It’s a fascinating castle, definitely built different from the rest”, He stated, grunting in annoyance when the sharp-silvered tip dug further unto his throat, making the droplets ooze in big red tear drops every now and then.

Seeing as the imperial magician of Celeste obviously wouldn’t care if she’d have to slice his head clean in an instance— he had no other choice but to vanish and appear once again behind her, prompting the lass to change positions and stance in haste.

“I see, you own the very sword that Queen Erithesia once had. What a lovely sabre that is”, Florencius commented on awe, earning a hiss from the fair maiden before him.

His gaze lazily travelled from its pointed tip, down to its handle— the thing about the rare sabre that made it magical, was the fact that it only appears to those with pureblooded royal lineage that dated centuries far in the past.

It was marveling to witness it in the dainty hands of a common-folk. Really marvelous, curious, yet definitely astonishing in a baffling way.

That sword last presented itself to an infant, a supposed prince of Sappherine— who unfortunately, passed for some unknown reason. The royal family that time, chose to hide away the information of the poor baby’s untimely demise.

Hence, no one has knowledge of what, how, where, when, and why did it happen. Such an unfortunate soul, that child, he could’ve grown into a marvelous ruler, for he was rumored to be the first born.

Fate wasn’t clearly on his side.

After that incident, the sword was never seen. . . ‘again’. Not until this very time. It has disappeared for years without any single soul knowing of its location. Some dared to summon it, using magic— only to have their limbs chopped into cubes of human meat.

Ah, they were foolish enough to use a fraud procedure from a sketchy untrustworthy book sold by quacks.

They were just tricked to pay in bundles of gold coins, even if the product is not worth buying.

“Its as lovely as it was made to be in archives. Thin yet sharp, daring yet elegant, simple yet magical. . .”, From her place, Clementine swore that his optics glowed in what she saw was fear, yet as quick as the speed of lightning did it died down.

She sharply observed him, body positioned in a guarded stance still. Her hands gripped the handle tight, uncaring if it burns her calloused palms.

“What a wonderful blade! Definitely deserving to be in the hands of someone as Clei”, Florencius applauded excitedly, although she could sense the sourness whenever the other collided with another.

However, his recognition of her never pleased the magician of Celeste— he dare call her Clei. They weren’t even close acquaintances.

“Do not call me that. Do not utter that word ever again. It is horridly disgusting when it comes out of your petty mouth”, Clementine pressed, making her voice deep and pointed.

Her annoyance was reaching new heights, pouring rapidly in a small cup that is now overflowing.

Any more longer and she would have probably be sentenced to death by a committed crime of murder.

“Alright. . . alright. Geez, such a feisty kitty you are”, he sang, dryly laughing afterwards.

The wind that surrounded them once again sped up, ferociously ruffling their clothes and hair in anger, some of it even sliced their attires, and the Ellysian man earned a few deep slices on his visage from it.

It was responding to the bearer’s emotions, and silver-eyed Clementine was obviously madly irritated.

She gritted her teeth, the pearly whites grinding against each other, she have to keep herself composed as much as she could. Breath in, breath out. Breath in. . .breath—

The sound of something grumbling underneath her made her breathing pause, urging her to glance down— and as if on cue, sharp talon-like stones immerged swiftly one by one underneath her, making her jewels widen, whilst her body reacted out of impulse, teleporting her from that location to a few meters away.

However, when her feet landed on the carpeted floors silently, a sharp pillar that came from below pierced her left feet— skewering it in the very middle.

An ear piercing scream made its way out of her mouth, making her drop on the ground to clutch it in pain.

Ragged breathing came afterwards, whilst her eyes were shut tightly close, concealing its bright silver gems.

She was sweating, beads of various sizes fell from her forehead to her neck, drenching her collar wet.

Clementine was rendered motionless and in agony— eventually a perfect moment to execute her in her time of weakness.

However, Florencius wasn’t pleased by the stabbed wound that he created, in fact he was not entertained enough, which made him sigh— motioning a hand to once again summon deathly sharp stones.

Forcing herself from the pain, Clementine opted to grab her weapon beside her— grasping it only to have her hand, pinned on the ground with sharp pillar that came from above. It fell straight near her wrist, a millimeter near her pulse, making it a near death.

She couldn’t heal herself for some reason, the stone pillars must’ve been enchanted to preventing any sort of magical energy that would lessen the stinging pain and heal it away.

Not to mention, she is on the ground, half crouched and motionless due to the pillars that kept her still.

Clementine would wince every now and then, yet managing to maintain eye contact with the evil-one, a contact that was filled with red rage and hatred.

Her expression was boiling excitement within his heart, optics now glittering in mischief.

The vibrancy of deep crimson was painting the floors, staining the carpet of the oozing liquid.

Florencius could see how her eyelids slowly blinked to drowsiness, she was clearly loosing blood and it was satisfying to witness.

Her face was now sickly pale, and she obviously was near to passing out due to the blood loss.

Though, he was still not satisfied, and by that— he meant that he wanted to watch her go knocking straight to Death’s door, pleading for the god to take her and ease the pain away.

So, with a psychotic grin, and an evil glint in his eyes— he conjured yet again two pillars, one heading straight to her shoulder, the other aimed to her right thigh, creating a squelching noise that echoed the hall, and rang in his ears.

Still he craved for more. . .more! It’s not enough. Not near close to enough.

Clementine was tired in agony, she released a screech the when the pillars screwed her again.

She felt lightheaded, the amount of blood that she lost is probably in gallons now.

Her breathing was now very much more laboured than to that of before, yet instead of fast— it was slowing down. Her silvered-optics fought for the inviting sleep, not wanting to succumb yet to slumber or worst death.

She couldn’t afford to loose her life, yet she was borderline almost there.

Just a little bit more. . .

“Clei!”,

A voice, loud yet not vivid for her echoed, followed by the faint sound of clashing from the distance.

And it was as if her pleading prayers were heard by the heavens— the pain that came from all over her body went away, it wasn’t exactly gone but it wasn’t as intense minutes ago.

The ones holding her down vanished in crumbles, letting her sore body fall face first on the ground.

If an ordinary citizen would’ve pass by such scene, they would assume for the worst— they’d certainly think that she is dead.

But those who bear magic are able to determine whether or not she was.

If a wielder of magic dies. . .the magic dies along with them, whilst the saint would be forced to cross the glory of the afterlife.

However, she could sense that her saviour was someone who bears magic, so she was relieved to think that they were aware of her current stature.

Who ever that person is, she is thankful for them.

Though, she must admit, that they could’ve gotten earlier to prevent this incident from happening.

Clementine wasn’t sure when or how did the fight ended, all she heard after was a faint scream and then silence followed suit after.

Albeit, she could feel arms hoist her up, faint cussing from the person, and the smell of what seems to be fresh camellias wafting the air surrounding her.

‘What a pleasant smell’, she thought.

‘It wouldn’t hurt to sleep for a while. . .right?’

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