Peron whipped around with swiftness unexpected in someone of his girth and rammed a shoulder against the thick oak door. He bounced back with a shout.
"Damn, it's locked!"
"I'll send for help!" said Felora, her voice high. She fumbled for a pigeon-summoning rune.
"Out the way!" Seiren swept past him, tugging paper and chalk out of her pockets. With a flourish of strokes, she completed a rune, slammed it on the door, and snapped her fingers. It glowed violet, rippling outwards until it reached the door frame. She pressed her body against it and phased through, ignoring Felora's "Wow!"
The door opened up to a grand hall, decorated by paintings and false vines. Glowing runes of all colours lined the edges, bathing the room in a gorgeous rainbow glow that shimmered and changed colours by the second. Recca Mirren might be a complete cow, but her light runes were amazing. The air was stifling with the smog of perfume. Seiren fought back a gag.
At the top of the wide marble staircase, a cloaked, hooded figure pinned Recca Mirren down. Her two military personnel lay against the corner, probably dead.
Seiren opened her mouth in a shout.
Don't announce your presence, you idiot! shouted Madeleine, halting her. Seiren hesitated, eyes darting around the place for an alternate route to the top without being seen. Throughout all this, the two struggled at the top, with Mirren emitting ear-shattering screams at intervals, although getting weaker each time. Seiren wasn't surprised Mirren couldn't hold her own at her age against Ashworth, who was in her prime. Felora drew her runed gun, trained on the two atop the stairs. Peron caught Seiren's eye and knelt just beneath the overlooking balcony, one leg bent and his hands interlinked together.
Seiren took a running start; Peron bolstered her jump. Seiren's blonde hair whipped back as she soared upwards. Her hands flew out and caught the smooth stone edge of the balcony's barrier and she clambered over, breathless. She fingered her collection of runes in her pocket. She didn't want to hurt Mirren, even if she was a pretentious cow. Her target was Ashworth.
Felora fired from the bottom of the staircase. It hit the grandfather clock behind Ashworth and Mirren, shattering its glass. Ashworth's head whipped up with a snarl and, taking in the two military personnel advancing, she leapt off Mirren, unsheathing more knives from her long sleeves.
She missed?!
It was a warning shot, you idiot! Or she'd hit Mirren. Go, Seiren!
Ashworth's knives came out in a flurry like the bullets from the military personnel' guns. A series of claps followed; the knives glowed a variety of red and orange, the latter causing blasts of hot air that whipped Seiren's hair back. Peron dived and pushed Felora out of the way, returning fire from behind one of the pillars. Rumbling cracks filled the air as the blasts from the red runes shattered the marble staircase and nearby pillars. Ashworth took to the stone handrails, skidding down and brandishing a short throwing knife in each hand. Her hood whipped back, exposing dark blonde hair drawn tightly back in a ponytail, flapping in her wake.
Seiren sprinted, leaping over the fallen Mirren -- she gave the unpleasant old mage a courtesy glance; the woman seemed rather unresponsive -- and kept up on the overlooking balcony, rifting through her pocket for the yellow rune. Ashworth shot knife after knife at Peron and Felora. Peron stepped in front of Felora, a staff -- where did he get one from?! -- in his hands. He deflected several of the knives as Felora returned shots. The knives glowed with the light from the runes wrapped around their handles, blowing smoke and debris with every clap from Ashworth and forcing the two to remain on the move.
Don't engage her in close combat. You're not exactly the best at hand-to-hand and we don't want a repeat of last time.
What am I supposed to do, then? Scream abuse at her until she caves? I can't do long-distance runing like she can, either!
Madeleine hummed. She doesn't know you're here yet. That's still an advantage.
What, should I just bang her over the head?
Seiren's eyes leapt up to the chandelier hanging overhead. Ashworth had Felora and Peron backed against the wall, with Peron swatting at her and keeping her at a distance. Seiren whipped out paper and sketched a sticky rune. She then tucked another one, a red rune, behind it, and picked up a knife Ashworth dropped.
She'd never thrown a knife before, but the theory should be similar. She just needed the sticky rune to make contact with the ceiling. She wrapped the runes around the handle, drew her arm back, and lobbed it, aiming straight for the base of the chandelier.
It hit the chandelier, causing it to erupt in a jingling cacophony. The knife spiralled down and clattered onto the steps.
Ashworth turned around; her chilling ice blue eyes landed on Seiren.
Oh, rune me to hell.
Ashworth threw down two knives and clapped her hands. Violet clashed with orange and thick smoke wafted from the ground, completely drowning Peron and Felora. They covered their faces, keeled over in coughing fits, and then disappeared behind the black curtain.
Light as a feather, Ashworth leapt onto the marble handrail and dashed towards Seiren. Seiren armed herself with one of Ashworth's knives and a red rune in her other hand.
"I got interrupted last time," Ashworth said, eyes gleaming. Her croaky voice sent shivers down Seiren's spine; her abdomen ached as if recalling the last attack. "I won't make that mistake again."
Take off the necklace, Seiren. You need to keep yourself safe if she gets too close.
But-- The thought of fighting alone left Seiren feeling hollow.
There's no time!
Seiren drew the necklace over her head and tucked it in her cape's inside pocket. At once, her mind cleared; the familiar presence of Madeleine vanished. Ashworth threw a knife at deadly speed, skimming by Seiren's face. She flinched as the blade grazed her flesh. Using that as distraction, Ashworth darted to the side and leapt in for the kill. Seiren barely had time to fling the red rune forward, snap her fingers, and hop back. Ashworth's face contorted.
The explosion sent Seiren tumbling backwards. Perhaps she'd added too many locking sigils to increase its strength. She landed on her back, the breath knocked out of her, her head spinning. She pushed herself up. Ashworth leapt at her again, closing the distance. Seiren scrambled backwards, her heart ramming against her ribcage. She was as aware of Ashworth's lethalness at close distance as the assassin herself was, but it didn't make her evasion any easier. Seiren kept up the flurry of runes with Ashworth's advancing step, forcing the woman to halt and weave her route towards Seiren. Mirren's expensive-looking decor shattered with every red rune; her fancy tapestries caught alight from the orange runes.
Time. Seiren just needed time. No doubt Felora's call for help would have reached the centre of Iwade already, maybe the messenger central would even have dispatched caller messages seeking nearby mages. Madeleine's intuition was right; not even a fully-fledged mage should be taking on Halen Ashworth alone, let alone a probationary one.
Halen Ashworth wanted her dead. At least that was in Seiren's favour.
Kind of.
Seiren slapped rune after rune onto the wall, leaping backwards. But before she could activate them, a series of thuds followed. Ashworth's knives embedded into her sketches, breaking the circles and inactivating the magic. Letting out a groan, Seiren grabbed the nearest object -- a vase with beautiful gold and silver etchings -- and threw it at Ashworth. Ashworth dodged it with ease, but Seiren took that time to put another rune on the wall and snap her fingers before Ashworth could close the final step. With a loud bang, the wall exploded, showering the two of them in rubble and dust. Seiren shielded her face and ripped out an embedded knife. She slashed at Ashworth, drawing blood and a scream, before diving through the hole, dropping runes as she dashed over the uneven floor. Several knives whizzed past her face, embedding in the pictures she passed. She snapped her fingers, not daring to look back. A yelp gave her a boost in confidence. Sweat stuck to her all over. She could do this.
A knife hit the wall before her as she made to turn the corner. The momentum carried her forward. The rune wrapped around the handle sizzled a brilliant blue. Seiren's eyes bulged. A scream teetered at the back of her throat.
The blow was more powerful than any sound or light it created. A crackle and a flash of blue light were the only warnings before Seiren's joints locked up. Muscles spasmed, forcing her head back and her arms and legs to flex against her body. She yelped and crashed to the floor, skidding on her face along the marble floor until she came to a stop against the wall. Blood surged to her head, making her see stars. She groaned, her muscles aching from the jolt of electricity. The knife she held spun out of reach, leaving a small pool of blood behind.
Ashworth advanced, her intent to kill evident in those deadly eyes. Part of her cape had burned off, leaving tattering ends that flapped at her ankles. She clutched her left arm, barely stemming the blood pulsing steadily out of the thick gash Seiren had given her earlier. Seiren flopped over. Her body tingled from head to toe; not a coherent thought crossed her mind. Symbol after symbol flashed before her eyes, but none of them were of any use. Her chalks lay in pieces scattered around her, out of reach.
The image of the mystery rune beside Loren that day surfaced. Out of sheer desperation, she reached out a trembling hand and dipped her fingers in that pool of blood. She sketched the drawing that was seared into her mind, and snapped her fingers.
Nothing happened. She laughed, more out of stress than anything. Of course that rune wouldn't work. She didn't even know what it was for. It might have been drawn in blood when used on Loren, but whose? And how was it activated? And under what circumstance?
To think it would have worked with her was hilarious.
Ashworth drew another blade from her pocket with her injured arm, her good hand still clamped over the wound.
"You'd wish you had taken up my offer on that day, Seiren Nithercott," she hissed.
"My answer... is still the same." Seiren's rebuff sounded less arrogant that she'd have liked whilst staring at death in the face. "Sod off."
Ashworth scowled and raised her dagger. Seiren emptied her mind, about to summon burst magic, when a flare of desperation escaped her clutches and she snapped her fingers. A rush of flames hot enough to sear Seiren's cheeks raced towards Ashworth, but her eyes were not on the fire. To Seiren's surprise, the useless rune beside her glowed white and scarlet. Ashworth's eyes almost popped out of her skull. She clutched at her throat, the colour draining out of her face similar to the colour of Loren's that day, and she collapsed to her knees.
"You dare to use that forbidden magic on me?!" she rasped. "You really are a spawn of that hell-witch Harred!"
Seiren sat up, her throat so tight she could barely breathe. The power within that rune rocked her to her soul and left a sickeningly sweet taste in her mouth. That rune was wrong. So wrong. But why? It was a rune, just like any other rune, and she'd drawn runes in blood before.
Ashworth's face was grey. Her knives fell to the ground with a clatter. Seiren pulled herself further up against the wall, lightheaded and breathless. Whatever the rune was, her soul felt almost sucked out.
She could only watch as Felora and Peron moved in. Behind them, other military personnel and a couple of mages had arrived. Felora tied Ashworth's hands behind her back, applying the magic-draining cuffs that she had used on Seiren during her and Rowan's brawl in Benover. Seiren released the magic flowing into the forbidden rune at once, feeling winded. Peron picked up Seiren like she were a ragdoll. A splash of her blood hit the ground. She must have cut herself on some ceramic piece somewhere.
"Good job, mage," said Peron.
Seiren could only snort in response.
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