Winning and slipping

Ingrid Erikdottir; Ylri of year 1032 Ab Teoria Magica; Hamlet-nested-between-mountains-and-river; now understanding why Grandma said no magic

The feeling of control, of being in control, was extremely important for a hunter.

Not having it, or not being sure that you had checked everything, was the line between going back home with a boar and going back home with your stomach open.

So, having regained the initiative thanks to Grandma, I finally had the time to actually analyse the situation and try to find more than “in twenty minutes, after fifteen since we have been smushed, the creature will die due to magical bleeding”.

Only, for that the muscled Alfar would need to keep it occupied for more than just trying to punch it.

Grandma probably had predicted it, or at least had thought that she would need her own sword, for, with a shout of “catch!” she threw the sword between the alfar and the monster.

The lightful, and I would not use another word but this one, alfar ran fast towards that point, one tentacle already going for her, only for her to grab the sword and use it to cut the appendage immediately.

“I am Lucrezia Iunia Bruta, beast! And, with the sword of my ancestor with me, I will cut you down!” The alfar shouted, avoiding the reprisal of the beast while trying to find more things to cut.

And that nineteen minutes and a half became nineteen and fifteen, just like that.

No, wait. The ball of light had lowered the minutage even more, so nineteen minutes sharp.

Unfortunately, the monster had some cunning, because then its tentacles became thinner, more numerous, and started swarming the alfar in many numbers, the alfar having to avoid and cut and parry, now far more capable and secure than before, the drawings on her body lit up like torches on marble.

Forty six, to be precise.

But, that thinness still protected the main body, where its “heart” was. While not really a weak point, as the alfar had shown by punching it when it was still…more human like, it was still a lot of mass.

Mass barely kept together.

“Ingrid! I will make an opening!” Eighteen minutes and three quarters, and Grandma shouted those words, starting to pant already, sweat already matting her forehead, while forming another ball of light on the tip of her cane.

I didn’t say anything, I didn’t say to stop, I just prepared my shot towards where it would go, right where on of those eyes were, slightly above one of its many maws.

When the beast tried to attack the alfar, not minding anymore the losses of its appendages, Grandma threw the ball of light at its side, the magic’s impact sizzling and burning and destroying the dark matter making the monster, lowering its life of a quarter of a minute alone.

But, the most important thing was that it was now open, above all I had a shot for one of its eyes.

Hopefully my hunch was right.

I pressed the trigger and two explosions, one smaller and the other far bigger, met that pressure, right before a ball spout out of the gun right towards my target, one of those black, big, eyes.

A full two minutes.

That was what I could see, alongside the popping of the eye, bleeding out something that looked like ink.

Its roar was also a good inkling of how much it had hurt it, pain and fury mixed with anguish and confusion, all while twirling and twisting around, trying to hit the alfar but failing miserably at that.

That was the rhythm we took then, while Grandma got closer to us, as shielded by the alfar as I and Vic were.

The alfar continued to keep up the pressure, her sword shaving off precious seconds of its life with the bite of its curved blade.

Grandma, for her part, after slowly, for a fight, and carefully pumping magic, created an opening roughly where “normal” organs were, shaving off more time to this beast.

And I simply took the shots whenever I had the opening between the appendages.

It was easy, easier than I thought, and I could see us winning, triumphing against this heretical beast, the vestiges of a madman using magic he should not have not able to fight smartly.

I should not have underestimated it, and I should have paid attention when it suddenly stopped focusing all its attacks on the alfar.

After all, there was still animalistic intelligence, Vic had shown that after all.

Which is how I found myself unprepared when it simply disregarded the alfar and charged at me, fast despite it now having barely two minutes, one with the alfar having a free cut at it.

Grandma’s light took out another thirty seconds, but it was on me already, its magic unstable but still corporeal, and two hands taking me up and throwing me away from it.

I was barely able to see Vic’s face before the beast’s slammed into him, the force making him fly onto the ice covering the river, cracks appearing on it immediately.

Without thinking about the disappearing monster, without even the slight hesitation, I moved, avoiding the last attacks of the monster, or maybe the alfar cut those tentacles immediately, to grab Vic before the ice cracked.

I ran, slipping once and twice, on the that ice, the ominous cracks widening on that thing, and I could see some blood on that, and I should have paid attention, and it was my fault again like mama, and…

And I grabbed him.

It was all good, the ice was stable, and he was with me.

Only for the cracks to come again, more and more, my feet slipping, and that left me with one decision.

I made him slip on the ice before it broke under me, and before I slipped due to me not paying attention, and the good thing was that he was safe.

Unfortunately I was able to hit a rock near it, and I fainted then and there due to the sudden cold, the tiredness of that day, and the well placed hit on the back of my head, seeing the alfar rushing towards us.

At least I would not die this stupidly, that was a warm thought.