by Lola StVil
The moment he saw Alago was gone, Malakaro attacked. He didn’t attack me, he went after the angel closest to him at the time: Swoop. Malakaro formed a long sharp sword made of red lightning and shadow. He sent it right into Swoop’s face. Dylan, seeing what was about to happen, placed himself in front of the weapon to save his girl. But while his efforts were daring and brave, they were ultimately unsuccessful. The shadow sword stabbed Dylan in the back between his shoulder blades. It then continued its course right through Swoop’s skull. The couple died facing each other.
Aaden and the others freak out all at once. They run towards the bodies and try in vain to revive them. I don’t speak. I just look at Malakaro. He looks back at me. Both of us are so focused on each other, it’s as if we were alone. The loss of Swoop is devastating and promises to bring about unspeakable grief. However, there is no room for that right now. Every inch of me is filled with concentrated, pure hate. Grief will wait.
I hear my team calling out to me, but their voices are just background. I take out the sword of Avery and slice into my arm. I use my dripping blood to form the start of a large circle. I am making a fight-or-flight line.
A fight-or-flight line is a barrier that’s formed when two opposing sides mix their blood together on the ground. The two parties vow that once the barrier is formed, they will fight until one of them is killed. If Malakaro refuses to add his blood to the circle, then he must surrender and fly away. Once a fight-or-flight line has been drawn, no one other than the two fighters can enter the circle. And the only way out is when one of them dies.
“No! Pry, don’t! Don’t do this!” Diana begs.
I don’t heed her warning. I want to take on that sick bastard by myself. I don’t want help from the council, the team, or even my husband. Some dragons are meant to be slayed alone. I outline half the circle, knowing Malakaro will gladly finish the other half, thereby consenting to the arrangement.
I was right; Malakaro forms a small spark of lightning on the tip of his index finger and cuts into his hand. The team begs me not to go through with the fight-or-flight line. Everyone shouts at me for what I’m about to do, even the remaining council members. But one being doesn’t speak. I turn to Aaden. His heartbreak over Swoop is etched in his face. I wait for him to tell me not to do what I’m about to do. But when he speaks, he says exactly the right thing.
“Kill him,” Aaden says with cold certainty.
“I will,” I vow.
Malakaro is finished drawing the other half of the circle with his blood. The fight-or-flight line has been drawn. My mother runs towards me, shouting in protest. I do not respond. I enter the circle. Malakaro enters the circle. Either Malakaro will make it out alive or I will. One thing is for sure—today one of us dies.
Everyone on the battlefield stops to focus on us. Both sides are too taken by the match to do anything else. My team watches while holding Swoop’s lifeless body.
Malakaro looks at me from across the circle with malice and fury. I return his gaze, matching his ire. He begins to move around the circle slowly. I slowly start walking in the opposite direction, both of us sizing each other up. He studies me and addresses me in his usual calm voice.
“Are you sure you’re ready for this, little sis?” he asks.
“Bring it.”
“I wanted to kill your team first—all of them. But perhaps it’s better to have them watch as you die. Yes, that might be even better,” he says.
“You talk too much,” I scold.
“You want to die quickly; I can make that happen,” he says as he launches a flood of red plasma-like waves from his hands. I dive down to the ground; the attack misses me by a fraction of a second. From the ground, I send a torrent of black waves from my hands; he absorbs the energy with the palms of his hands as if it were nothing.
“You’re going to have to do better than that,” he warns me.
“Deal,” I vow.
He blasts me again, and once again, I manage to avoid direct impact. He starts to laugh. It’s a cruel, full laugh that seems to take up the whole world.
“Is that your plan, to keep running?” he asks.
“I’m not running—I’m not a coward like you.”
“How ironic since I’m the one who broke the world and the one who broke your team. In fact, if memory serves, I remember breaking our dear father in half.”
He’s using my dad’s death to distract me. I refuse to let him succeed. There’s no way I’m losing focus. That’s just what he wants.
“Did you know he begged for your life before you arrived? Yes, that’s right, the great Marcus Cane begged me to spare you. Isn’t that the sign of a weak angel?” he says, delighted.
“There was nothing weak about my father. If he had a failing, it was you. He should have put an end to your life years ago,” I counter.
“Too bad he’s not here to try.”
“No, but I am,” I reply as I take to the sky and tackle him. He throws me off him effortlessly and hurls a sea of lightning at my head. I move but not quickly enough; my midsection takes a hit that sends me to the ground.
“Too bad your father didn’t know how to battle well enough to teach you anything worth a damn,” he says.
“He taught me all I need, believe me.” I gasp as I make myself get back up. He strikes me again, hitting my left leg. I feel the flesh on my leg ripping apart. He strikes again; this time the lightning hits my thigh. It cuts so deep I can see the bone. That shit hurts so badly all I want to do is cry out, but I won’t give him the satisfaction.
I fire at him as he comes close to me. I finally make contact. It hurts him. I know because I can see him wince slightly. I strike again from the ground and make contact. Had he been an angel of normal power, he would have died on the spot. However, because of the magnitude of his power, my blow only causes a bloody gash across his face. He puts his hand up to his face, impressed. He didn’t think I’d ever be good enough to strike him.
I fire again, but this time he blocks it by forming a small barrier in the air with his hand.
He grins as he strikes me. He sends out a constant flow of lightning. It feels like I’m being peeled, electrocuted, and stabbed all at once. I hear the team calling out and demanding that I get up. But the pain is so all consuming, it’s hard to think of anything else.
“You’re the one he should have given away! You’re the one who didn’t deserve him!” Malakaro says. The pain is so much now that I think I may actually be losing my mind. Why else would I start laughing?
“Why are you laughing? Why?” he shouts.
“I thought you were this big badass, but the truth is you are just a weak, needy little boy. Tell me what your daddy did to you. Did he forget to hang your picture on the refrigerator? Did he give me more hugs than he gave you? Awwww, come on, Jason, it’s not your father’s fault. He couldn’t love you because, well—you’re unlovable,” I say as I continue to laugh.
“You really need to shut up,” he shouts, losing his cool for the first time. He grabs me by my right wing, spins me around in the air, over his head, and flings me around the circle.
“ARRRRRRGH!” I cry in agony as I feel the bones in my wing break. Blood is oozing out from every opening in my face. I try to get up despite the pain. I make it halfway up, but Malakaro is right beside me. He kicks my right leg so hard the bone pops out. I hear Aaden’s screams before I hear my own. I land back on the ground, now barely able to hobble.
“You have every right to be jealous of me. I had a home, a family, I was loved, and most of all, I was wanted. You didn’t have any of that. And do you know why?” I mumble as I cough up blood. “C’mon, Jason, you’re the smart one here. You put all this together. You must know the answer. Why didn’t you have all the things I had? What kept you from being loved, you sick fuck?” I demand.
“YOU! HE PICKED YOU!” Malakaro rages as he rains down blow after blow on me. He kicks and bashes me in the face over and over. He caves in my nose with the toes o
f his boots. He pummels my eyes until they are all but swollen shut. He throws down a stream of red plasma at me. Once it makes contact, it shreds my skin and detaches the bones in my rib cage that were once connected. But no matter how close to death I am, I refuse to stop talking.
“No, I’m not the reason you weren’t loved—you are,” I reply as I spit out a tooth.
He picks me up, throws me over his shoulder, and sends me flying into the barrier around the circle. He takes my hand in his and starts to break my fingers one at a time.
“You will die here. The First Noru will find death right here on the ground, like a dog!” he vows as he snaps my ring finger off. There are no more words to explain the agony I am experiencing.
“Before you kill me, I…I want you…I…have…have to know something, Jason…” I slur as my vision gets blurry.
“What is it, Noru?” he says venomously.
“My father never stopped. Not even when you killed him.”
“Never stopped what?” he rages.
“Love. He never stopped loving you. But you were too dense to see it.”
“Bullshit! Marcus Cane never loved me! He never gave a damn about me!” Malakaro says as he pounds on me yet again. I am going to die at this rate. I can barely fly, my leg is broken, my wings are fractured, and I almost have no face left. But damned if I’m going to give up. His emotional outburst has distracted him. He’s now walking in circles, furiously demanding that I stop lying.
“I’m not lying. He loved you. You had what I had. You just couldn’t get past the hate. You just couldn’t see it,” I plead.
“MARCUS WAS A WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT WHO WALKED OUT ON ME!”
“That’s not true. He looked after you; he was never too far. He gave up spending time with us to come see you.”
“MARCUS CANE HATED ME!” Malakaro says, literally shaking with anger.
“He hated your jealousy, your darkness, and your need to destroy. But he loved you. He loved how brilliant you were and how resourceful you had become. But you wouldn’t let go of the anger.”
“He was my father; he should have taken me in. And now I will make him pay,” he says.
“Then kill me; it won’t take away what I had with him. He loved me; I will die peacefully because I was wanted. I was loved.”
“Your mind may die in peace, but your body will feel pain like no other!”
“You can’t kill me. There are always angels that will remember me. That will think of me when I’m gone. I’m gonna live forever. And you can’t take that away,” I swear.
“No one will remember your life. The only thing they will recall is the sad and merciless way you died.”
“Fuck you!” I scream.
“Yes! That’s it, Noru! Get angry. You will die in misery; that is the fate that awaits you!” he says as he prepares to strike one last time. I’m on the ground a few feet away from Aaden. We’re divided by a shield, a shield I made by making the fight-or-flight line.
I’m going to die a few feet from Aaden, a few feet from paradise.
Aaden bangs his hands on the barrier and calls out to me. I can’t reply. I can’t move anymore. I want him to be happy when I’m gone. I want him to find love. But I can’t tell him that; there’s a tooth lodged down my throat. And I’m too weak to cough up any more blood.
I look next to Aaden and see my team. My team. I love them. I’m proud of them. I hope they know that. I hope they keep fighting no matter what happens to me. Standing next to the team is my mother, the woman who taught me about kindness, hope, and inner strength. I want her to close her eyes so she won’t see this.
Mommy, close your eyes. Close your eyes.
Malakaro is preparing to attack for the last time when something above us catches his eye. I look up with what little vision I have left and spot something flying towards the barrier. I must be dreaming; nothing can get inside a fight-or-flight line once it is formed. But it’s not just in my head because Malakaro is following it too. Something glides through the air gracefully and lands at my feet. The majestic silver bird comes close to my face and spreads out her wings.
Alexi.
Malakaro comes near the bird and picks it up in his hand. Alexis are generally impossible to kill, but Malakaro is far more powerful than anything we have seen. If anyone can kill Alexi, it would be Malakaro. I summon every ounce of strength I have, the last speck of hope I have left, and call out to him.
“Jason…please don’t hurt Alexi,” I whisper as tears run down my face. I forget about all the pain I’m in. Nothing matters right now but Alexi. Malakaro studies the animal as if it’s the first time he ever saw one.
Aaden is banging his hands so hard against the barrier I feel it shaking. When it doesn’t work, he creates a wall of blue fire against the barrier in hopes he can get in and save his daughter and me. Meanwhile, Malakaro holds the bird tenderly in the palms of his hands.
“Jason, I know you are hurt by what our dad did to you. I’m sorry he left you. I’m sorry it broke your heart, but that doesn’t have to be the end of the story. We can make a new ending. The Alexi is your chance to start again. You have a son, Phoenix. And now he will have a cousin. Her name is Summit. You’re her uncle. She will love you. Nix will love you. Please don’t take away your only chance at love.”
“You gave your Sib a name already?” he asks.
“Yes,” I reply desperately.
“What does Summit mean?” he says.
I know I have to lie. If he knows the story behind Summit’s name, it may send him off the deep end. He may be more resentful than ever that I got to be raised by my dad and he didn’t. I proceed carefully.
“Summit means ‘quiet strength,’” I reply.
“I suppose there’s some poetry in that. Where did that name come from? Is it Greek, Latin…Dutch?”
“I can’t remember,” I lie.
“Let me help you out. I believe it’s the name of a rather large waterfall in the Philippines…”
“Jason—”
“The waterfall where Marcus took you and told you how to be a leader! Did you think I would not know that? Do you have any idea how much I know about you? I spent my whole life studying you. You think you could trick me?”
“No! No! I don’t think that. Jason, all of that was in the past. We can find a happy ending right now. Let us have a happy ending. Please don’t kill my Alexi. Don’t hurt my baby. Let the Alexi get her out of me, and then you can kill me. You can do whatever you want to me. Just please let her live.”
Malakaro strokes Alexi’s silver feathers gently. He then places the bird back down on the ground and lets it come over to me.
“Thank you. Thank you,” I whisper, weak with relief.
“No, Pryor. Thank you. Now I know that when you die, you will do so without any peace at all.”
Malakaro raises his hand towards the bird and summons a raging flood of crimson-colored lightning. The bird cries out as the surge of energy engulfs it. It convulses uncontrollably, then lies still on the ground. Alexi dies inches from my face.
It is better to conquer yourself than to win a thousand battles. Then the victory is yours. It cannot be taken from you, not by angels or by demons, heaven or hell.
~ Buddha
When Malakaro takes Alexi in his hand and listens as my wife pleads for the life of our child, for just one second, one brief moment, I think that bastard will listen to reason. But as he extends his hand and fires on the bird, I realize there is no reasoning with pure evil. I set the barrier on fire and try as hard as I can to break in, but it doesn’t work. I double over in agony as my family gets taken from me.
“Silver, something’s happening!” Bex yells as he forces me to lift my head up. I look inside the barrier. Pryor’s eyes are healing themselves and soon go from pale purple to a plasma-like void of neon purple. In a matter of seconds, her whole body is healed and surrounded by energy. She has an expression on her face I’ve only seen one other time: the day her little
brother died.
Pryor rises from the ground and floats in the air without needing to use her wings. Her entire body is a live wire of energy. She looks over at the dead bird, enraged; she opens her mouth.
“Everyone get down!” I shout at the team. They all take cover, but it’s too late. There is no escaping the wrath of the First Noru. She lets out a sonic scream that shatters the barrier and causes it to explode into a million fragments. She opens her arms wide and pulls every single shadow demon from the sky. It’s raining dead shadow demons for miles.
Malakaro looks on, shocked at the transformation. Soon he’s back to his senses and retaliates by firing a sea of red lightning at Pryor. She counters with a flood of purple plasma. The two powerful energies converge in the middle. The struggle between the two of them sends sparks flying in the air. Each side is determined to swallow the other. Malakaro tries hard to maintain his balance, but the power surge is hard for him to handle.
His hand shakes as he tries to combat the surge of energy coming from Pryor. However, his hate is no match for her appetite for revenge.
Pryor is just as livid, determined, and ruthless as her brother. Her surge of power overtakes Malakaro’s. It hits him in the chest and tosses him to the ground. Pryor, using only one hand, grabs Malakaro by his neck and dangles him in the air.
Her eyes, mouth, and nose all work together to drain the life from his body. She no longer needs to extend her hands or use her palm. Pryor’s entire body is a doorway to death. She’s ripping life away from Malakaro, one layer at a time. Pryor inhales his life force in one big, long breath. He yells in agony as his flesh deteriorates, his eyes hollow out, and his skeletal frame withers in her hands. In a matter of minutes, the force that plagued our lives for years is gone. Pryor is back to her old self, and Malakaro, the most evil being in existence, is no more than a pile of dark dust.
