I watched as Mother coughed and swayed, the yellow mist curling around her like fog. It was a familiar yellow mist.
If I recall correctly. That’s from…
A scene flashed before my eyes, a memory of Father, collapsing under that same yellow mist.
Mother dropped to her knees. Her sword scraped the floor, and her torn dress fluttered and finally rested. I figured this was the perfect chance, the opening we needed.
I thrust my hand forward. “Apprehend her!”
The knights around us nodded at each other and rushed as one, encircling her in a matter of seconds. Just as their hands reached for her wrists, she muttered something. It was a whisper, low and deep, something only Feyt’s ears could pick up.
Her hands and legs began trembling. The grip on her sword tightened.
When I realized what was happening…
“I WILL PROTECT HER!”
Her voice split the air like thunder. It froze the knights mid-step. Even Leila, still catching her breath, recoiled at the sound.
Leila’s eyes widened. “How? The powder should’ve—”
Before any of them could comprehend what was happening, Mother lunged forward. She was fast, faster than ever before. Faster than her trembling limbs had any right to.
The hilt of her sword slammed into the nearest knight’s solar plexus. His armor dented with a dull clang. He flew backward, metal skidding against marble until he crumpled and fell still.
But she wasn’t done. Consumed by emotions, she moved like a storm. It was no longer elegant, but it still was dreadfully efficient. Relentless, even.
I raised my hand again, about to shout an order to tell them not to hold back. But… a thought occurred to me.
What if they hurt her in the midst of it?
My fingers trembled as my open palm wavered. The words were stuck in my throat.
That small moment of doubt… was all she needed to end it all.
The knights fought back with what they could. But their doubt of hurting their instructor and their lady proved to be costly.
Mother’s blade swept through their defenses. One knight went flying into another, their armor crashing in a heap, as they skidded their way before collapsing. Their swords fell by my feet.
One by one, they fell.
Before long, the rest of the knights met the same fate.
She stood alone among the crumpled iron around her, heaving breaths, her gaze unmoving as it stared into nothing.
Even under the effects of the paralyzing agent… She caused all this carnage.
Could this be part of her Talents? Or was this simply her sheer will, overriding the paralyzing agent?
I took several steps back, cautious. Afraid of what she would do next.
Leila, meanwhile, seemed to remain composed. She picked up a knife that had fallen near her, holding it close to her chest. Meanwhile, her off-hand reached inside a pocket.
Another vial? Just how much was she carrying?
I had noticed her pockets were unusually packed lately, but I couldn’t actually see what was inside them. Normally, I could. But today, all of her pockets looked deep black, just like Raymond’s bag. It was as if she were trying to hide whatever was inside from any prying eyes, including mine.
I had learned from then that this was a rather common concealment tactic meant to counter any sight-related Talents. In a way, it affected me as well.
Mother stepped over the fallen knights without stopping. As if they were nothing more than rubble, she dragged her legs slowly towards Leila. The paralysis effect was still clearly taking effect. But the fact that her grip remained firm and steady terrified me.
Leila kept her eyes steady. Not flinching even once. Then, in one smooth motion, she pulled a vial out of her dress. It didn’t contain powder; however, instead, the liquid inside swished violently as she brought it over the knife she held.
She snapped the tip of the vial open with a thumb, pouring the light yellow liquid over her knife. She threw the now-empty vial away, and her stance shifted.
If I had to guess what that liquid was, I would say it was another kind of paralytic.
“I won’t hesitate to use this on you, Your Grace.”
Mother didn’t respond. Her eyes glared forward as her legs and hands trudged slowly. It pained me to see her this way. Some part of me was telling me that I should be protecting her right now, but…
Seeing as Mother wouldn’t stop advancing, Leila closed her eyes for a brief moment. I heard her take a deep breath, then she lunged.
Her knife swished, aiming for Mother’s arms. But, despite her trudging act earlier, she dodged with absolute precision. She leaned back just enough to let the blade slice past without touching a single thread of her dress.
I caught a glimpse of Leila’s eyes widening. She pushed past her and landed a few steps away, the knife still held firm.
I was sure she was wondering where Mother’s sudden speed was from. I wondered that too, but deep down, I felt an answer was already inside my mind.
Without letting a single second go to waste, Leila dashed in again. She held her knife low, this time targeting Mother’s legs.
A swing, and a miss. But she didn’t overshoot her lunge this time. She recovered quickly and stayed close, dangerously close. Both her knife and Mother’s sword were in range of each other.
What followed was a blur of feints and dodges. Even utilizing her speed, Leila couldn’t land a single hit on Mother. And I knew why.
Even from here, I could tell Leila’s not proficient in wielding a knife. Her grip was sometimes tight, sometimes loose. Her movements were exaggerated, leading to easy tells and easy dodges.
My heart sank. I could only pray.
It was a matter of time before—
—A slash struck true. Tʜe source of this ᴄontent ɪs 𝔫𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔩·𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢·𝔫𝔢𝔱
Time seemed to slow in front of my eyes. Leila’s dress tore open as blood sprayed out.
Both fabric and blood stained the white marble floor.
Mother had landed a clean strike to Leila’s chest.
Leila stumbled back, her legs held firm… She didn’t fall.
But her knife did, clattering to the floor along with the fabric and blood.
Mother stepped forward. Fast. A sudden kick sent the fallen blade into the air. Before it could fall, she snatched it midair… then whipped it toward Leila.
It grazed her arm, tearing through her sleeves.
Leila’s legs gave out beneath her. The paralyzing agent, now in her bloodstream, worked in tandem with her bleeding wound. Her body hit the floor with a dull, deafening thud.
I couldn’t even hear the wind blowing outside.
All of our knights were down.
The only ones left standing…
Mother didn’t so much glance at the fallen Leila. Instead, her sunken gaze… her blank, bloodshot eyes fell upon both of me.
Leila’s head twitched. She was trying to rise, but her arms barely moved. Her cheek rested against the marble floor, a small pool of blood beneath her.
Her eyes met mine—Feyt’s.
“Sir Feyt… Take Lady Carine… and run!”
Mother was supposed to be incapacitated. That powder could knock even Father down to his feet. Yet, she still moved.
Even through her blank eyes… I could tell.
What drove her wasn’t hatred.
Neither was it bloodlust.
It was something much more.
A desire… to protect.
The instinct to protect her only child, Carine, from harm’s way. And if that meant cutting anyone who got in her way…
A strange ache settled in my chests. Like a heavy weight pulling me down.
Mother… She’d do anything for me.
Yes, she kept me on strict schedules so tight I couldn’t breathe. Pushes me to attend events and lessons I had no interest in.
But… could there be a lingering reason for all that?
Was she really just a ruthless instructor?
Was this all connected to my “Talent Symbols”?
But I wouldn’t find the answer if I let her sink any further into the false game that man had planted in her.
I stepped forth—both of me. We picked up the fallen swords beneath our feet.
I might’ve lost to her once.
But this time, I wasn’t alone.
If I fought as one, as both.
And I will end this charade, once and for all.