Chapter 12:

The Saintess is a Daredevil

Kingdoms of Sin: The Hero Is Dead


As I rush towards the elven group, the sharp blade of the axe reflects a moonbeam, the Daoine Sidhe raising it high… Afraid, the tiny goblin barely raises his head in horror as the elf knocks the blade down at him.

    That’s also at this exact moment that I launch myself forward, catch the goblin in my arms, and roll on the ground as the axe narrowly misses my sides.

    Astonished to see me as I literally appeared out of nowhere, the Daoine Sidhes mutter something as I rise to my feet, still holding onto the goblin. Or rather try to rise.

    Stumbling back to the ground, a quick glance at my hand makes me widen my eyes. It is covering with wood, stiffening my moves.

    Lignum magic… It is declined in more than one way depending on the user. All having in common its relation to wood.

“Found.” The axe holder aims it once more at us with a devilish grin.

    A click of metal.

    As we are about to get slaughtered, the blade clashes against a sword’s one.

“What are you playing at?!”

    Tyffeon stands right before me, holding back the blow. I’m so close I can even see their blades tremble as they oppose their strength.

    But they’re not just one against the other…

    I manage this time to get to my feet and take a few steps back, only to catch sight of the wood slowly beginning to cover Tyffeon’s boots.

“At your feet!”

    The tiny goblin squirms, letting out a cry of terror.

    To my left, a wooden pike flies at me, forcing me to step back. Two more followed, another one shot by the short-haired elf, as if to force me to pull away from Tyffeon.

    The axe holder sends another blow of his axe at him, and even though he’s stuck in place, Tyffeon achieves to strike back each time.

    But the wood is progressing up his feet, covering him more and more.

“What are you waiting for to burn it?” I cry out while dodging the wooden sticks. But soon, as if he was waiting for this, the third Daoine Sidhe rushes at me with his sword.

“I can beat them without it…” He grumbles under his breath.

    Taking advantage of a default in his enemy’s guard, he swivels his sword and cuts his side. As the latter grunts, Tyffeon launches another attack.

    But his opponent merely steps back. Now out of his reach. Mocking him.

“That’s all you can do, Tyffeon? Why, what are you waiting for to come at me?”

“Tssk.”

    Meanwhile, I do my best to dodge the blade aiming to slice me like an unfortunate sushi roll, but end up feeling a sudden pain in my shoulder.

“Gghh-”

    A wooden stick has managed to pierce my skin.

    Unsettled by the blow, it’s enough for the sword holder to catch hold of me, his hand gripping over the one I use to hold the goblin as he blocks me against him. His blade soon threatening the integrity of my throat.

“It’s over for you, Saintess.”

“Ghh… Tyffeon!”

    Wood already reaches his waist.

“In the end, you remain a failure.” The axe holder concludes, not even bothering to come any closer. “A shame for Rathard’s guard. But that doesn’t matter any more. You won’t be there to behold the birth of a new era. You’re not worthy of being part of the Daoine Sidhe warriors.”

“Noisy, noisy, you’re so noisy… Are you not finished with your idle talk?” Tyffeon utters.

    Finally, the wood covering now to his waist steams. Crackles. And falls to pieces as he lunges straight to his enemy, the latter too astonished to dodge the swift blow which beheads him at once.

“You won’t even behold the next sunrise.”

    Not lingering over the corpse falling to the ground, he turns towards me. I can feel my hand freeing from the wooden restraint.

    Wary, the elf holding me steps back, his grip growing tighter.

“Don’t come any closer! Unless you want her blood to flow.”

That’s my chance!”

    As he focuses his attention on Tyffeon, I pull at the thin leafy branches wrapped around his chest, snatching them from there in a clean blow.

    The moment they come off, the elf’s expression becomes vague. They were what tied him to his King, the link that allowed the latter to control his puppets. Now, no more strength in the elf’s arm prevents me from pushing him back, setting free as he falls to the ground.

    Little have I the time to breathe that I behold a dozen of wooden sticks surging at us.

“Don’t overestimate our proud warriors!” The short-haired screams.

“Behind you!” I exclaim.

    As Tyffeon turns to the threat, the first pikes are about to reach him. Though, before they can pierce his skin, they all burn. Consumed from their core.

    The short-haired elf clenches his teeth at the sight of his attack so easily deflected.

    Stepping forward, Tyffeon approaches the last enemy standing. The latter makes a step back, having a quick glance at his defeated comrades.

“So, what is wrong? Could it be possible that a proud warrior feels fear?” Tyffeon coldly utters.

    Little has the other Daoine Sidhe time to refocus on him that his eyes abnormally darken. He shoots a glare at Tyffeon, letting out a furious scream.

    Possessed he seems, possessed he is.

    Despite that, Tyffeon couldn’t care less. He draws his sword, engaging in the fight as the blades clatter.

    A long sizzle soon results from the friction of Tyffeon’s blade along his enemy’s.

“Naive!”

    Taking advantage of an opening in his stance, his sword soon cuts into his opponent’s chest. The latter coughs blood, but rushes forward once more.

“Rip the branches off his arm!” I yell at Tyffeon.

    He only briefly glances back at me from the corner of his eye before dodging the attack with a spin to his left. Drawing the dagger at his chest in a same move, he steps forward and slices the branches in a neat blow.

    In turn, the short-haired elf falls forward, his eyes losing their deadly glow.

    A sigh escapes my lips.

    The threat averted, Duxie joins us in a hurry. In her jaws she holds Awa, since she fell earlier from my shoulder, when I dashed.

“Let’s leave this place before other Two Paws find us!” She urges.

    Wincing at the pain in my shoulder, the sight of the protruding wooden stick isn’t quite the dreamy one… Unfortunately, I can’t do much as I already hold the tiny goblin. So, instead, I take a step closer to Tyffeon.

“Are you hurt?”

    Before answering me, he takes the time to chase the blood from his sword, to sheath it. A scowl over his features, he then turns at me.

“Can I know what has gotten into you?” He grumbles, taking a step closer with each word. “Had I known you desired to die with so much ardour, I would never have risked to make you leave Rathard!”

    Harsh… I try not to show it, but these words hurt a tad more than I’d care to admit. Just a tad… Just a tad.

“No, that’s not that. I just wanted to save this-”

“This goblin?! You still hold onto that…” He draws his dagger, as if intending to slay it. “Let go of it. These monsters are dangerous.”

“Don’t do that!”

    I step back, gripping more tightly the tiny goblin against my chest, the latter too afraid or too weakened to react.

“We had almost reached the outskirts, and yet you had to ruin Duxie’s protection… What have you won? Now you’re just wounded, and they’ll be aware of our position.”

“I wouldn’t have been if you used your Ignis magic sooner! What did take you so long? You could have finished them at any time.”

    He clenches his fists, as if unsettled by my words.

“Now, that’s enough!” Duxie intervenes, scolding us. “Do you think it’s an appropriate timing to have such a discussion? You need to reach the outskirts, we can’t afford to stay here for any longer.”

    The sudden authority in her words leaves me dumbfounded. I feel like a fool. And… judging by the way Tyffeon rubs his neck, averting his gaze,… I think we feel the same.

“Very well.” He finally answers her.

    But before joining Duxie, Tyffeon walks to the elven silhouettes in the ground, seemingly probing them. As much as I want to ask him what he’s doing, I opt for waiting in silence.

    Soon enough, he straightens up and comes straight to me. In his hand there’s a crystal vial, a liquid of a forest green filling it.

“Try not to whine.” He says, approaching his free hand to catch hold of the stick.

    Reluctant but aware of the necessity to remove it, I close my eyes as Tyffeon pulls it out of my wound.

    I wince, my nails digging into my palms. When I mid-open my eyes, I can see him uncorking the vial.

“Is it an elven potion?”

“Indeed. You can be glad that they were cautious enough to have a few with them. It should be enough to heal your wounds.”

    Gestures following words, he pours the liquid over my bleeding shoulder. Almost instantly, I can feel a sort of soothing balm, and the aching fades away along with my resorbing wound. I briefly brush the healed skin. No wonder the Daoine Sidhe’s healing potions are so popular.

“Ahh… Thank you.” I mutter.

“Hmpf.”

    Right after this, we hurry to follow Duxie. Regaining her tracks, we promptly leave this mess behind.

    Quick.

    As the first streak of dawn begins to dispel the surrounding darkness we keep pacing without sharing any other words.

    Until, finally, we reach the outskirts.

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