Black Briars Part Two

My eyes flare as my Blessing, Arcane Intervention, takes hold. The world shifts and a kaleidoscope of colours bombard my vision. A realm only masters of the arcane art can perceive freely. The world of pure magic.

Against every black mage I've fought, mana flowed from within their mana core or were drawn from the surroundings.

But the Witch before me has something else.

Instead, hovering above her head, an ominous blob of writhing darkness. Thick strands of corrupted mana flow from it, feeding into her skull, her spine, her limbs. The dark threads pulse with malevolent energy, channeling power directly into her body.

My breath catches. Bloody hells, it's as if she’s been possessed by a malevolent spirit.

A briar lashes out. I throw myself sideways, my body hitting the spiky ground, my uniform protects me from the worst of the damage. The thorned vine crashes where I stood a heartbeat before, gouging deep furrows in the earth.

No time to think. I raise my revolver, aiming at the dark mass above her head. If that thing is made of mana I can kill it. The power of my Blessing surges into my bullet and I pull the trigger. The bullet flies, destroying any strand and mote of mana in its path.

The Witch doesn’t stand idle, her body jerks forward with inhuman speed. Her hand snaps up, fingers splayed. A wall of briars erupts between us, forcing me back. I fire twice, the bullets punch through the vegetation but ultimately fail to penetrate through the dense thicket.

Damn it.

The briars don't stop. They come from everywhere, left, right, overhead. I dodge, roll, firing blindly as thorns tear at my coat. One catches my shoulder, ripping through cloth and skin. Pain flares hot and immediate.

I grit my teeth and keep moving, getting rid of the bullet casings and loading new rounds into my revolver.

I aim for the entity again, channeling my Blessing into a concentrated burst. The mana around my revolver glows white-hot as I fire.

The entity twists. One of its strands whips through the air, intercepting my shot. The mana bullet detonates mid-flight, the explosion throwing me backward. I hit the ground hard, ribs screaming.

I force myself upright. Blood trickles down my temple. My vision swims.

The briars surge again. I hastily put up a shield, barely in time. The impact rattles my bones, cracks spiderwebbing across the barrier.

‘Bam!’

The barrier breaks and the wind is knocked out of my lungs. I manage to land on my feet, my ribs throb with pain. Looking down, my jacket is torn to shreds, several deep lacerations criss-cross my left ribs oozing with blood.

The Witch raises both hands. The ground beneath me trembles.

I leap a moment to slow.

A massive briar erupts from below, throwing me into the air. I'm airborne for a sickening moment before crashing into a tree trunk. A cracking sound barely registers in my ears as white hot pain tortures my ribs.

I slide to the ground, gasping.

‘Get up. I have to get up, damn it!’

I barely prop myself up before the Witch mercilessly strikes with another briar strikes. I roll, barely avoiding it. Thorns rake across my back, shredding fabric and flesh. I bite back a scream.

My Blessing flickers and the world starts to return to its original colours.

No. Not yet.

I force whatever little energy I have to maintain Arcane Intervention. My eyes burn and my head feels like a pot of soup about to boil over. The world’s colours stop receding.

No choice then.

I reach into the folds of my pocket and pull out a greenish pill. An emergency tool of trade. Without hesitation I pop it into my mouth and a surge of energy rampages through my body. My sanity blurs, itching to give in to primal rage. At the same time, the Witch holds out her hand, summoning multiple vines coiling to strike like serpents.

Not yet, wait for the opening.

Dramatically clenching her fist, the briars snap forward with bristling thorns.

My body springs to life, moving several times faster than normal.

Half out of my mind with my saber drawn in one hand and dagger in another. I slash and hack through the onslaught of vines in a crazed whirlwind. Completely desensitized to my pain and injuries, I charge in, an instrument of judgement and execution.

The Witch, stunned by my recovery, pulls out all the stops in a panic. Thorns gouge my flesh, vines trap my limbs, giant briars attempt to wall or crush me.

I ignore the pain. I cut off the bindings. And I push the limits of my body to its furthest.

The Witch did not remain idle, she uses her vines as a transport in an attempt to gain distance, but my unrelenting dogged pursuit manages to catch up to her sorcery.

“STAY BACK!” Whether out of panic or annoyance, she channels a massive spell, the entity puppeteering the Witch convulses wildly. Dozens of gargantuan tendrils burst out of the ground, crashing down like a tidal wave

This is it. The final push.

Do or die.

I pull out my spare revolver and dump all my rounds imbued with my Blessing into the vines, creating a straight path toward the Witch.

With everything I have, I rush onward and tackle her to the ground. My left arm pins her down while my right scrambles to draw my dagger.

She yells curses and claws at my face. Pain flares across my face and other areas of my body. The effects of the pill are starting to fade.

Out of sheer grit and willpower I pull out a dagger and channel every last reserve of power of my Blessing into the final strike. One blow and I'll make it count.

“Fuck you.”

The surge of power explodes outward, a shockwave of pure disruption.

Instead of blood spewing from her neck, I throw the blade at the puppeteer.

The dagger slams into the core of the entity. The dark mass convulses, writhing violently. The entity lets out a psychic wail that tears through my skull.

It slowly fades, one by one, the strands dissolve like ink before water. recoiling like broken cables. It dissolves into black smoke, dissipating into nothing. The briars go limp. The oppressive weight in the air vanishes.

And that’s the last I see.

My vision goes dark, the backlash from that last attack slams into me like a tidal wave. Every nerve in my body is on fire. I can't breathe. Can't think.

I jolt awake, gasping. My body screams in protest, every muscle, every bone aching. My head pounds like a war drum.

I blink, vision swimming.

A face looms over me. I try to reach for one of my daggers, but my body feels like a sack of rocks. I end up lying flat on my back.

Blinking into focus, my breath hitches.

but very much alive.

The Witch.

She's awake.

She's staring at me.

"You're…" I croak.

She stares at me, studying me with sharp, wary eyes.

"The girl you so rudely attacked," she says, her voice hoarse but steady. "I'd like an apology if you don't mind."

I stare at her. The so-called Witch that could upend a country. Now a girl looking at me as if I'm the monster.

Wait.

If she's normal if and talking… if that entity was her power source…

Shit, what the hell did I just do?

"Fuck."