Demrin sighed; the girl’s fate was in her own hands now. There was nothing he could do until she called him; if she called him. He decided to go find her brother.
Reuben was seated at a table in the kitchen, an untouched plate of food in front of him. “Has she gone?” he asked as Demrin entered.
“Yes, Lukah with her”.
“At least she has someone to protect her, stupid ignorant girl”, a flash of anger crossed Reuben’s face.
“She is more wise than you think, Reuben. Perhaps more wise than yourself”.
Reuben leapt to his feet, flipping the table. “And what gives you the right to say that? How would you know how wise she or I are?”
“I have lived with, and worked alongside your sister over the past number of months. She has become my apprentice in magic, and a close friend. I have gotten to know her well, perhaps better than most in that time. She is extremely wise. As for how I can say she is wiser than you; she would not have thrown a tantrum over a mere statement of wisdom, so it is also a question of maturity”.
Reuben seemed to calm down; he re-took his seat. “I’m sorry, I am only worried for her safety”.
“I assure you, should she come under any danger, I will do my utmost to save her. She can summon me to her, and if she does, I will instantly travel to her side”.
“I want to go with you”.
Demrin nodded. “Should you be by my side when she calls, you may”. Reuben stared at him for a moment, and then nodded in acquiescence.
The two men appeared in the corner of Demrin’s vision as he strolled down the alley. He turned right at its end, then flattened himself against the wall to watch their approach. Shadows lengthened from their sleeves, the edges sharp; blades. They were Shadow Warriors; creatures grown from the shadow, bred as soldiers for battle.
Demrin formed a blade of his own; white and made from light. The creatures passed a trashcan in the alley, and Demrin spun. He slashed across the chest of the one on the left, but it parried. They were fast; not one of Scott’s creations. These were even more powerful than anything Scott could create. Demrin could feel the strength emanating from them. It launched into a quick succession of slashes, Demrin barely managing to block each one.
Its partner joined in, raining blows on Demrin who was quickly becoming overwhelmed. He took a step back, and unleashed a blast of fire. The fire completely enveloped one of the Shadow Warriors, and sent it flying back down the alley. The other demon took its chance, and slashed at Demrin’s left arm. He tried to withdraw it, but felt the blade nick his wrist. As the creature lunged toward his chest, Demrin side-stepped, but the blade raked across his flesh. He roared in pain, and then slashed down at the things arm, severing it. He swung up again, and severed the warrior’s head.
Glancing down the alley, there was no sign of the other one, just a smouldering pile of garbage where it had landed. Demrin heaved a sigh of relief, and then began checking his injuries. His robes were torn, and his flesh beneath likewise. An odd thought crossed his mind; he could no longer feel his left hand. He looked down, and saw a bloody stump. On the ground, his dismembered hand lay, disintegrating. A silent “Oh” formed on his lips. Then he began to stumble back to the mansion.
Demrin fell across the threshold of the mansion, weak from the severe loss of blood. The wound in his chest had grown during his short journey, spilling more blood. His stump of a left hand bled profusely. Dragging himself up the stairs, a trail of blood covering the floor in his wake, Demrin sought someone to help him. He slumped against the wall and made his way down the hall. Using his shoulder, he heaved the door open.
Calla glanced up at his arrival, a look of shock and horror marring her beautiful face.
“DEMRIN!” she screamed, “YOUR CHEST!” she glanced down, “YOUR HAND! WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED!” she rushed to his side and helped him over to the bed as he leaked more and more blood.
“Calla.... my love.... so glad.... I found you....” and the rest was blackness.