421. T.I, 5

(Rose)

I spent countless days alone, utterly alone in the mountains.

Crossing valleys of rocks with little dirt. Climbing improvised paths in these virgin mountains. Walking breathless, exhausted at times, feeling cold from the wind over my sweat.

Painful efforts, slowly making my way from a landscape to the next.

Until I reached the last plateau, above the clouds of northern Europe that circle around it. Probably somewhere in Russia already.

There, at the edge of the european Andes, I met him.

Meeting a daiûa, it happens.

Meeting a human is very rare.

Meeting something else and aside these natures, I can’t say.

At first, this manly silhouette walking in the distance, I thought it was a man, dressed in black. He wore a scarf playing in the wind, but no hood like my other friend.

As he got closer to that plateau where I was resting for a moment, seeing him approach, I begun considering the possibility that he was one of them.

His silhouette already appeared darker than night, black from head to toes.

Although unlike the dark shades, he had a different silhouette to him, some weight in his footsteps, and some reflections of the materials over his clothes. He was casting a shadow. He wasn’t immaterial darkness like they could be, only he was wearing very deep and jet clothes all over.

I took a last nice look at the scenery of these infinite lands below and beyond. The mountainous rift was reaching its end before me. I reached the end of them.

And something unidentified was stepping closer to me, swiftly.

I stood up on my tired legs to face the stranger coming to meet me.

His walk at this altitude was one of a firm athlete. Firm, smooth, brisk. Clearly a real body, but efficient and with energy and strength to spare.

All in silence. A human meeting another one it would seem at first.

But he would have waved at me. He would have yelled hello in advance.

He was not making me feel easy, as he was fixated on something that didn’t seem like greeting me.

Friend or foe? His demeanour seemed to lean slightly toward the later.

Human, or being-like-her with human appearance?

My instinct leaned toward the later as well.

I don’t think this is human.

An aggressive pace, though he carried no weapon. Actually, he wasn’t carrying anything at all but the clothes on his back. Which was a clear clue given our environment, that he wasn’t human. No one lives here.

I broke a bottle of Yaelun’s venom in front of me.

I called out to him, repeatedly, in all sorts of languages and manners.

Whatever I could say, his only reaction to my words was the absence of it, to continue walking at the exact same pace straight toward me.

His fist were clenched I could now see. His skin on his face was dark black and without a hint of cold or sweat. His clothing were simple, but clean, clothes and shoes. Something is really off with him, if he were a normal human.

His forearms had a kind of chainmail over them. That’s an armour. It’s a soldier...

I unsheathed my sword and proffered a last polite warning.

Something painful was ringing in the back of my head. Painful impulses.

O - You’re a warrior Rose! Just strike him!

L - Something is not right Rose... Be careful.

The voices in my head give me confused feelings, aside the painful headache already.

I snap my fingers and lit the puddle of alcohol into a fire.

He walks through it as if nothing had changed, and gets into a fighting posture, ready to punch me in a heartbeat.

I step back and send a strike with my sword. He dodges it with greater speed than I expected, and kicks me in the belly.

I’m a little shocked for a few reasons.

My voices scream together as I fight back.

~

My sword never reaches him. He is a far more skilful warrior than me.

While I yell, scream and cry from pain soon enough, he never emits a single sound. Not a grunt, not a breath.

His punches hit me hard. I feel the tremors running along my bones and interfere with my brain.

I’m losing.

Ogre gets the upper hand. My thorns grow.

I unleash my magic against an enemy I don’t understand. All looks human about him, if only...

With renewed strength and the removal of pain and weaknesses, I strike faster, and I eventually hit.

I pierce his body through.

No blood falls.

He’s not human.

He punches me even strongly. And I feel the pain again. My strength abandoned me for a moment. The instant his fist hit my face, all the effects of my light on me faded.

The magic I released to help me just vanished on the impact, and I’m back to my weaker self, merely human.

I’m scared now.

Licht takes over. I release light, blinding and burning light with everything I have left. I’ll burn him where he stands.

He just had the time to remove the sword stuck in him, when the fire engulfed him.

After a few seconds of inferno, I stop, to avoid reaching the point where the reaction grows faster and it becomes harder for me to return.

Lots of ice melted around us. He’s burn to a crisp as well, but still standing.

He looks stunned. I take the chance and leap toward my sword.

He strikes me again. My forces abandon me again, as if each punch carried a powerful electric shock and cancelled every spell.

He’s beating me down and it feels worse and worse. I feel weakened, more than in pain. And I feel a lot of pain, to tears and yells.

It feels like he’s ripping away my ability to use T.I. out of me. And it’s a terrifying and painful sensation.

I’m unable to focus nor to use any spell any longer.

After an hour or so of beat down, he loses interest in me and turns away.

I lie in my blood, coughing, half-dead, terrified and in pain.

My Blume aspect has just been killed inside of me.

My heartbeat rises, pounding with a painful strength.

I’m moving, shaking. I’m still alive.

I’m burning with refocused hatred. It’s only me though. Rose.

My trembling limbs recover my sword lying just aside. I limp and walk after him, trembling with rage, suffering and exhausted.

Whoever you are...

I still live as a human. I still move...

With my ideals, my inner demons and my sins. With my emotions and choices. I catch up with him.

He doesn’t seem to notice me.

I stab him in the back, piercing his chest again. My heartbeat echoes in my head as I grit my teeth.

Whatever you are...

His head turns on a side, seeing my face constricted with pain and hate, covered with muddy hair and dusty blood.

My sword moves swiftly to the side of the chest, as I contract and move in a growl. I’m cutting him and one of his arms halfway as I slash the blade out of him.

My muscles rip themselves out, but I manage to do another strike whilst it’s turning around to face me.

It attempts to dodge, but my next strike anticipated it. The last thing he could see was my grin.

I behead him abruptly, violently. He falls at last.

The body and the head fall apart without sounds of hitting the ground, vanishing in black slithering shapes that look like snakes. They soon disappear from my sight as they scatter.

My sword falls from my weary hands and makes far more sound than this thing ever did.

I breathe and cough. There’s relief, for it’s gone.

I don’t know what you were, but now you know what I am...

Whatever I am...

~