8. Meet-cut（e）
8
Meet-cut(e)
Talon
I t was quiet here, the night carrying in a mist from the sea that clung to everything it touched, leaving wet kisses that soaked my clothes. I had left the village behind a few hours ago, deciding to make my way to the ruins of an old mill that I had spotted in the last light of the setting sun. I summoned a glowing orb to help light the path. At the very least, I could set up a camp for the night inside the building and escape some of this chill. I hadn’t entered the true forest yet and was not looking forward to navigating the dense woods.
I soon found I wasn’t the only one attracted to this building for shelter. Hearing movement up ahead—the makings of what seemed to be a skirmish—I slowed. I could feel the anticipation of a fight singing in my veins as I approached. Finally, one place Mirilith’s blood would be useful. It would be nice to get some pent-up frustration out. Sure, I could just walk away, but someone might be in trouble.
Peering round the corner, I saw an old courtyard, the flagstones uneven and crumbling, surrounded by overgrown trees. A few feet from me, a single person was backing up, cornered by twisted tree-like drisands. My hand shot to my sword as I saw he was vastly outnumbered. He flinched back as sharp, thorny projectiles landed at his feet. I heard the whoosh of more incoming. I rolled my shoulder, warming up for the fight.
Then I was rushing into the fray. I slammed my shield down in front of the figure and braced as the missiles hit the front. I had a chance to properly look down at the individual beneath me and felt my breath catch in shock.
The simple, if insufficient, way to describe him was beautiful ; I had seen paintings of heavenly beings depicted on the walls of temples, and they could have been modeled after him. Messy, silver curls framed his round face. He had pale blue eyes under long lashes, and his creamy white skin glowed in the light of my orb. I found myself staring, entranced.
I braced myself as his eyes met mine. My wings and my horns clearly marked me as hellspawn. It was almost laughable how hideous I must look next to him. Disgust or disdain would come next.
But the surprise on his face gave way to a cocky half-smile, and he reached up. My eyes flicked to his lips, the gorgeous way they curved into a smile. My breath hitched as he placed his hand on my cheek, leaning closer. He hadn’t even hesitated, instead gently meeting my gaze.
“Looks like I have a gallant knight come to my rescue.” His voice was smooth, and melodic, and I felt a fluttering in my stomach. His thumb stroked my cheek, and it just felt…nice. I wanted to sink into his touch. His whole aura was beauty and enchantment. I wondered if this was what it was like to meet an angel.
His eyes slid to my hand and the traces of the golden brand.
I grunted in surprise and pain as he stabbed me in the side. My head swam as my desire and the pain swirled together in a delicious mix of pleasure. I suppressed the feeling—that was not appropriate .
His smile widened to a grin, showing off two sets of sharpened fangs. His delighted, cold face seared into my mind. His curls must be hiding his other feature—a small set of horns.
Maoferni. While my hellish bloodline was from Mirilith of the Fires, maoferni were descended from Mazroak, a bloodsucking demon known for stealth and trickery.
Not a creature I was supposed to rescue. He vanished from sight, slipping into invisibility, and leaving me.
I sank to my knees. I was breathless, my heart pounding and head spinning .
Shit, was this what it felt like to be enchanted?
…Nope.
Definitely a collapsed lung. I groaned, reality slamming into me all at once, the sounds of the fight, the cold air of the night.
I drew upon my healing, closing the wound and fixing my lung. That was unfortunate. Without my oath, using healing powers stretched my magic to its absolute limit. I pulled my shield from the ground and drew out my sword, turning back to the battle he’d abandoned me to.
It was easy to lose myself when I fought. No need to hold back. No need to control my actions, tread carefully, or speak politely. Just melding my being into Mirilith’s fury, trying to tread that line of using it but not letting it use me. That I understood, much better than my complicated reaction to a beautiful stranger stabbing me.
I charged again, smashing my shield into one of the drisand’s bark-like faces before trying to bolster my sword. Right. No oath magic. The sword stabbed between the wooden cage of its abdomen, getting stuck .
Fuck. I infused it with the magic I did have—fire—and it flowed red hot. The drisand crumbled to cinders, the ghostly light in its eye sockets flickering out.
A flash of silver caught my eye, and to my surprise, the maoferni appeared again, long enough to silently run a dagger through another ghostly eye socket. His blade must actually be bolstered, as the drisand’s face collapsed, its body sinking to the ground. Our eyes met, and if he was surprised to see me very much alive, he didn’t betray it. Was he alone? That was strange. They usually kept one or two wards around, at least.
Instead, he winked at me and swung himself into the branches overhead, disappearing once more. My face went red, my eyes still searching for him. I really should be angry, but instead, I couldn’t tear my mind away from his smile and the tender way he’d spoke to me.
A heavy claw swung at me, rudely ripping me from my reverie. I snarled, thrusting forward to deal another scorching blow. I glanced up to the branches, wondering if he was watching me. There were two more piles of ash on the ground now, but the maoferni must still be invisible.
Realising how to even this fight a bit, I grinned. I raised my sword, shouting the words to an espial illumination spell. It blinded my foes next to me. And if it just happened to also disrupt invisibility… perhaps that was a bonus.
I dispatched three more as they struggled to adjust to the bright light. Drisands weren’t bad, as long as you didn’t let them pin you. I caught sight of him as I turned. He had gone up into the trees now that my spell had disrupted his stealth.
With a bow, I turned back to the battle, knocking a particularly big one off-balance. I was about to deal the killing blow when an arrow shot past me and into the creature’s eye. It keeled over. I turned again, and he was holding his bow, smirking. I gestured at the drisands’ back line, too far for me to reach but still launching missiles. Perhaps he could make himself more useful?
Instead, he kept shooting the creatures just before I killed them. He was a good shot, too—or insanely confident and lucky, as some of his arrows came very close to me. It was infuriating, having the satisfaction of the kill ripped away from me over and over. I snarled as another one fell.
I was sweating, panting, as I approached the last drisand. There was no way I was letting him have this one. My sword met barkskin, and the drisand crumpled. I grinned in triumph before I saw the dagger sticking out of its back. I huffed, scowling.
I wiped my sword and sheathed it, then picked up the dagger from the crumbled remains. The clearing was empty, save for the bodies.
“I think this is yours?” I asked, holding up the dagger.
But he was nowhere to be seen. I tucked the dagger away and examined the stab wound he’d left me. A lot of my healing had gone to my lungs. Fixing my skin was a bonus, one I couldn’t spare right now. There was a large scab in the spot he’d struck.
Usually, a little more attention before it healed fully would prevent a scar, but I traced my fingers over the scab, a thrill running through me. I’d been chasing that fantasy for a long time. Long, lonely nights spent picturing myself at the mercy of someone like him. His face popped into my head again, the words he’d murmured to me whispering in my ear.
“…a gallant knight come to my rescue .”
Like that was a perfectly normal thing to say to an enferni.
Like that was a perfectly normal thing for a maoferni to say to a Paladin .
The words weren’t sincere, just flattery. Fawning—was that the word? Manipulating someone who could protect you.
Fuck, I might be dead in a week. No harm in enjoying it.