Ironically protecting what I most wanted to lose pt2

I froze when I saw what had become of the former living room and hall. The chain fell from my weakened fingers, frozen in a tangled snake on the floor.

There were tattered chairs, ruined books, broken vases and people everywhere. Blood, groans, the smell of death and fear – all mixed together.

In the centre of the room, Lias was fighting three figures in black robes. I recognised the clothes, the same ones the assassin had worn in Grant's bedroom at the Circul residence.

Behind the bodyguard, secretary Mirk was kneeling, bent over something, holding a glowing white dome.

Grant darted to run to Anaris, but another assassin jumped out of the corner, the chain tightened sharply, the stranger tripped and fell to the ground, and I fell backwards.

The man with the mask on his face bounced nimbly, and I didn't even notice his movement, just a shadow flying towards me. The only thing I had time to do was throw my hand forward, the magic in my blood surging as the call went out, the powerful gust of air knocking my attacker to the ground, dragging him across the broken floor and throwing him onto the overturned chair legs, the crunch of breaking bone, the man's barely audible scream before he fell silent forever. The dagger plunged into the only surviving painting.

No one saw what had just happened, everyone was busy with their own business: Lias was using magic and bullets to take out his opponents, Anaris was holding up the magic shield, and Grant was bent over something, his eyes fixed on the body the first secretary was protecting.

I had just killed a man, committed one of the worst sins in the universe, but no one paid any attention, the world continued to exist according to its usual laws and temporal flow.

I wanted to scream out loud, to rip open my chest and let out the tearing soul that couldn't stand this feeling of being corrupted, tainted, guilty.

Is this how a murderer feels when he takes a life for the first time? Or are there people who do not experience that sickening feeling of shame that eats away at their insides with the bile of self-loathing?

Yes, I was saving myself, this crime was committed in self-defence, but my heart was throbbing with pain, the blood that had destroyed other blood was now pounding in it.

How stupid was I? I wanted to kill the president? I didn't know that the horror of what I had done would come later. But I swore I'd take revenge…

Once again, thoughts of vengeance brought me back to reality. The tears dried instantly. I had a goal, I was willing to go to hell, to walk in all circles, because my hatred for Rizor Circul overrode even my guilt.

I felt I could kill a thousand to make sure the one I needed died.

I got up and walked on stiff legs to where I'd already guessed Grant's father was lying. The president was as pale as ever, with scarlet drops on his shirt and a trickle of blood just above his temple, but for better or worse, he was still breathing.

“Can you make a shield? I'll help Lias.” Mirk lifted his sky-blue eyes to me.

I nodded hesitantly, I'd never had to create a defence before.

“Here,” he handed me the dagger he'd picked up from the floor. “If you can't cast a spell, you can protect yourself with this.”

“I'll help you too.” Grant stood up and followed the secretary.

“No, it's too dangerous.”

“And yet,” the guy insisted, flames raging in his eyes.

“Okay,” Anaris exhaled.

I watched as the two young men, along with Lias, surrounded the attackers. The forces were now evenly matched.

The bodyguard knocked the weapon from his opponent's hands and fought him hand-to-hand. Mirk snatched an icy whip from the air, the end of it whipping the enemy's legs with precision, while Grant set fire to the third man's hair and clothes.

A beam of light slipped through the dissipating mist and glided across the blade, blinding me for a moment. I looked down at the cold steel in my hands, the similar weapon with which my attacker had tried to kill me.

Ancient daggers that belonged to emperors and were powered by their own masters. Such mighty artefacts were usually kept in the most secure vaults of museums, or in the rare collections of intrepid collectors who weren't afraid to take care of them. No wonder Rizor was barely breathing, the blades having sucked all the magic out of him.

My heart skipped a beat or two at the realisation. My palms held one of the deadliest weapons in the world, and the vein in the neck of the man who was still alive was beating softly, and I'd never been so close to my revenge. I swallowed, searching for an answer, a solution, a way to act. What was I supposed to do?

I could slit his throat or stab him through the heart right now, and then kill myself. Just a couple of moves and I'd be free.

My fingers trembled, the temptation was so great and I had already forgotten what it felt like to take a life, the guilt was no longer so deep, it floated to the surface and slowly faded away.

‘Siri, come on... just one stroke...’ I persuaded myself. “Oh, just do it. You've suffered enough, you can't get Virtul back... and you can't get your mother back, you have no reason to breathe. You have no meaning. Nothing makes sense... only death is a happy ending...”

I breathed out. Just like that? Heavens, why am I hesitating?

And so difficult. But why did the doubts come at the worst possible moment? I stared at the stern face of the country's leader, studying it, trying to find reasons why I should spare him. But my heart still burned with hatred for the man.

Only now I wanted to see not his immediate escape from the world, but his long agony. He hadn't suffered enough. Half term is over, our contract hasn't expired yet. Just over six weeks to go.

The bomb around my neck just got a little heavier. I was so sick of it! I threw the dagger away, and it landed on the marble floor with a clatter.

Perhaps in the future I will regret what I have not done now, perhaps I will tear my hair and swallow tears of remorse, but I will still fulfil the vow I have made to myself. Forty-five days, just four and a half ten-days, and I will have dealt with you, Rizor Circul.