A man broke out of the bloody trap of roots. He stood up heavily and dusted himself off. He wore a black garnt, from under which white fabric was visible. Pitch-black hair fell over his forehead, and from beneath it, empty gray eyes looked at . Strange tattoos blackened on his eyelids.
It must have been so painful to get those tattooed, I thought, examining his face with curiosity.
But the stranger was clearly not in the mood for conversation. With an elusive, blurred dash, he shifted to the left, moving out of my line of sight. Another swift lunge—and from his sleeve, a narrow knife flew right at my throat, trailing a thin, strong rope behind its hilt.
Simultaneously, the assassin pushed off the ground, intending to jump right over . While in the air, with a flick of his wrist he snatched a handful of dark spheres the size of half a fist from under his black cloak and threw them at .
Bombs? Seriously?
I didn't even try to dodge. I simply released a powerful gust of unnatural wind and blew this entire arsenal aside. The black spheres exploded with a deafening roar to the side, enveloping the clearing in rely harmless smoke.
However, the assassin turned out to be a pro. He didn't lose his montum for a fraction of a second. Barely had his feet touched the ground when he dashed at
again, drawing another dagger with a reverse grip on the run. His speed and tenacity were impressive, but this circus was frankly starting to tire
out.
"May a stake appear in your ass!" I barked in frustration and lazily waved him off with my hand.
My magic, knowing no barriers, instantly and literally executed this... order.
The assassin collapsed to the ground at full speed, stopping just a couple of steps short of reaching . He dropped the dagger, clutched his lower back, and thrashed in wild agony, writhing on the trampled grass and emitting muffled, hoarse sounds from absolutely unbearable pain.
I shook my head sympathetically, looking down at his tornt. Judging by his eyes widened in shock, the guy was clearly having such a painful experience for the first ti.
Hunched over on the grass, he raised a gaze full of hatred at . Without touching the hilt, he made a sharp wave with a trembling hand, and the dropped dagger, obeying an invisible force, shot up from the ground, flying right at my chest.
WAIT, STOP.
I easily deflected the blade, and my brain began to frantically put the facts together. Gray eyes? Black hair? Telekinesis? Vampire habits? And on top of that, dressed like a typical fanatic cultist...
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
TIZOR?!
The realization hit
over the head harder than any axe. I hastily snapped my fingers, instantly canceling my magic. The guy went limp with a relieved, muffled groan and imdiately sank into a saving unconsciousness.
"Daaamn..." I drew out, grabbing my head in horror. "And how am I even supposed to look him in the eye after this?!"
All my aura instantly evaporated from sha. The absolutely black eye returned to its normal color. The bloodlust receded into the background, and I never got to enjoy soone else's fear.
I turned to the edge of the clearing. There, away from the torn crowd, stood those sa five people who had prudently agreed to go to the celebration.
"Alright," I said with a sigh, looking at this modest bunch of survivors. "I found the guests. I think that's enough."
SNAP.
Another snap of the fingers tore space, and the strange company was transported from the forest clearing straight to the foot of Mount Slick.
Three days passed. We were in one of the guest chambers of Mount Slick. Yara and I were sitting by the bed on which poor Tizor lay motionless.
Finally, his eyelids fluttered. He groaned quietly and slowly opened his gray eyes, struggling to focus his gaze on the stone ceiling.
"Tizor, forgive
for not recognizing you right away," I spoke up, breaking the silence. "But it's your own fault, you shouldn't have thrown knives on the sly. I'm warning you right now: for the next couple of days, or maybe even weeks, going to the toilet will be veeery painful for you. But, fortunately, your body is already regenerating, so you'll live."
Tizor tried to prop himself up on his elbows to sit up, but imdiately grimaced agonizingly from a sharp pain and fell back heavily onto the pillows. He shifted his gaze to the girl sitting nearby.
"Sister... Sister..." he whispered hoarsely, barely audibly. "I was wrong. How wrong I was... Only now do I fully realize it. Forgive ."
Yara couldn't take it. Tears gushed from her eyes; she leaned forward and tightly hugged her brother, burying her face in his shoulder.
Here it is. The classic dramatic family reunion, I thought with a slight touch of irony, watching them. I never knew how to behave properly in such sincere monts, so I just sat silently to the side.
Tizor, hugging his sister with a weak arm, looked at . That icy, cultist emptiness that I had seen in the clearing had completely disappeared from his gaze.
"Thank you," he said. "They... they clouded my mind. Literally brainwashed
with their speeches. But your thod... it brought
back. That flash of pain seemingly burned all their fanatical haze out of my head. I rembered everything."
"Well, what can you do," I shrugged. Then I closed my eyes, smiled broadly and businesslike, extending an open palm forward. "Then that'll be exactly one thousand gold from you for the successful treatnt."
Silence hung in the air.
It was probably an awkward two minutes. I stood with an outstretched hand and closed eyes, waiting for the clinking of coins, while the brother and sister just stared at
silently and dumbfounded.
"I'm just kidding," I finally gave up, opening my eyes and lowering my hand. Although, to be completely honest with myself, I ant real money. A thousand gold doesn't just grow on trees!
I stood up from the chair and headed for the door, leaving them alone.
"Alright, see you around," I said. "I don't want to see you again," I tossed over my shoulder and, turning around, bestowed a warm, sincere smile upon them.
And there was not a drop of malice in those words. I just wanted them to finally start living their own quiet lives, far from my problems. No, but seriously, what am I supposed to do with them. I don't particularly want to rember the past.
Reviews
All reviews (0)