39. Is This It? #2
Zander claws at his wrist, gasping, but Keagan only smirks. “I expected better,” he muses, pressing harder, delighting in the way Zander’s struggles weaken. “All that fire, all that talk. And yet—” he leans in, his voice a whisper against Zander’s ear, slow and taunting, “—you hesitate.”
Keagan chuckles, low and knowing. “Such a shame. I thought you’d fight harder . . . for her.”
Zander’s entire body tenses.
Keagan grins. “Oh? Struck a nerve, did I?” He tilts his head, mock sympathy dripping from his voice. “Does she know, I wonder? What you’ve done? What you’re willing to do?” His grip tightens, his blade pressing just over Zander’s heart. “No, I suppose she doesn’t.”
Then he raises his blade, aiming for the kill.
I don’t think. I send a shattering pulse through the air, the force of it knocking Keagan back, breaking his grip just enough for Zander to crumple to the ground, gasping.
Keagan groans, rolling his shoulders, shaking off the attack like it is nothing. Then he grins. “Now we’re having fun.”
The fight is a blur, a frenzied mess of blood, sweat, and raw determination.
My limbs feel like lead, every movement sluggish and painful.
Zander is staggering beside me, his chest heaving as he struggles to remain upright, sword barely held in his trembling grip.
Keagan is a blur of motion, moving like liquid darkness, faster than we can react, his laughter echoing through the chaos.
Keagan’s presence is suffocating. He has us cornered. There is nowhere to go, nothing left to fight with.
His eyes gleam in the moonlight, cold and merciless, and I can see it in his smile, his posture: the sick satisfaction of a predator savoring the final moments before the kill.
I barely register the change in him at first. A flash of something different, something darker, his movements sharper, more predatory. It is subtle, a shift in the air, a tightening in the way he moves.
Then I see it, his fingers, his hands, twisting in unnatural ways, his claws lengthening from his fingertips, sharp as daggers.
The bones in his fingers crack, the sound sickening, as the claws break through his skin with a cruel, wet rip.
I fight through the fog of exhaustion, trying to react, trying to process what is happening. His claws gleam under the dim light, the tips like obsidian knives. He swings at us, at Zander, at me, slashing with terrifying precision.
I duck instinctively, feeling the brush of air as one of his claws barely misses my throat. The weight of the battle is settling on my shoulders, and my magic is wearing itself out, but I can’t back down.
Keagan isn’t done.
Ash is moving. His gravity manipulation is sharp, cutting through the air with every change of direction, pressing down on Keagan’s limbs, keeping him off balance.
For a time, it seems like Ash is the one who is gaining the upper hand.
Keagan can’t land a solid hit without his movements being altered by Ash’s magic.
Keagan is patient, too patient, and his cruelty is unmatched. Ash’s power is formidable, but it comes with a price. Each shift, each gravity twist, drains him, zapping his strength bit by bit.
Keagan notices it first, the subtle signs: Ash’s movements growing slower, his breaths more ragged, his footing less sure.
Keagan’s eyes gleam with a sick sense of understanding. With a mocking grin, he focuses on Ash, who has just deflected another swipe from his claws.
Ash doesn’t see what is coming, though. He is too focused on keeping Keagan grounded, too caught up in the dance of their battle to notice Keagan changed tactics.
In a split second, Keagan’s claws dig into the earth, and with a force that shouldn’t be possible, he lunges.
Ash isn’t ready for the sudden ferocity of the strike.
Keagan’s fist collides with Ash’s side, the impact so hard that I can hear his ribs crack under the pressure. He gasps, his body jerking with the force of it.
Ash doesn’t have time to recover.
Keagan grabs him by the collar of his cloak, lifting him off the ground. The jagged edge of Keagan’s claws raked across Ash’s chest, tearing through the fabric of his cloak and the skin beneath. Blood wells up, staining the air with a metallic scent.
Ash’s eyes widen in pain, his hands instinctively trying to push Keagan away, but the shifting gravity is no help. His power is already faltering, stretched thin from the intense exertion.
Keagan smiles, twisting his grip on Ash’s collar, pulling him closer. An unsettling, low chuckle escapes his lips. “Not so untouchable now, are you?”
Then, with a sudden movement, Keagan swings his other arm, fist clenched, and slams it directly into Ash’s temple.
Ash lets out a breathless rasp, his head bobbles on his shoulder from the impact, before his body simply goes limp in Keagan’s grasp.
Ash’s grip on reality slips away as his legs buckle under him, his body falling like dead weight when Keagan releases his collar and lets him crumble to the ground with a sickening thud.
“Noo!” I cry out as my friend’s body hits the ground.
Keagan watches for a moment, his eyes glittering with amusement as Ash lies motionless, knocked out cold by the force of the blow. “Pathetic,” Keagan sneers, stepping over Ash’s fallen form with a dismissive glance, already turning back as if Ash was never there.
Ash is out. And now, it is just me and Zander against the monster that is Keagan.
The air around him twists again, distorting, like heat rising from a burning ground. A low growl vibrates in his throat, something primal, something savage, and before my eyes, his form begins to collapse inward, his skin tightening, his bones twisting, elongating.
Zander barely has time to react, raising his sword just in time to deflect a swipe, but Keagan is faster. His body compresses, reshapes, until he is no longer recognizable, no longer anything we can predict. He has become something else entirely.
A massive creature, sleek and muscular, emerges from the chaos.
His fur is as dark as midnight, and his eyes gleam with unsettling intelligence.
His paws, huge and lethal, scrape against the earth, claws digging deep into the dirt.
It moves with an unnatural grace, each step a silent glide across the ground.
Its glowing predatory eyes lock onto its target with the cold precision of a hunter.
The body is built for speed, power, and stealth.
From his back, two enormous wings burst forth, black feathers, gleaming in the moonlight, their span wide enough to block out the stars.
The wings arch as though they are made for destruction, sharp and terrifying.
The monster growls, the sound deep and guttural, vibrating the very air around us. And yet, Keagan is still in control. There is no fear in him. No hesitation.
He is reveling in this.
His claws rake across the ground again, and he lunges toward Zander.
The power in his movements is otherworldly.
Zander barely has time to raise his sword before Keagan is upon him, his claws scraping against the metal.
Keagan is faster, the sheer force of his weight slamming into Zander’s chest, sending him crashing into the ground.
I barely have time to react. I raise my hand, a desperate wave of sound pulsing through the air, but it is too late. Keagan is already towering over us, a beast of terror, his wings spreading wide as he prepares for the final strike.
Zander and I are fighting for our lives.
I raise my hand again, but I am too slow. Keagan lunges once more, elongated fangs protruding from his snout, snapping at the air. I barely manage to dodge. Blood is pouring from all over my body, from gash after gash, causing a faint lightheadedness that is getting harder to ignore.
Keagan’s massive claws slash downward again. The force of the blow sends me stumbling back, my feet slipping on the blood-soaked earth.
Keagan's claws dig in, his canines on full display as he takes a step toward Zander, the sharp, jagged tips glinting in the moonlight like twisted daggers. A guttural laugh echoes from his throat, the sound sharp and cruel. “You’re not even trying anymore,” he taunts, crouching low to Zander’s level.
His claws flex in anticipation. “Is this it? Is this all you’ve got? ”
Zander tries to lift his blade, but it is too heavy, his body too weakened. I can see the defeat in his eyes, the moment when he realizes there is nothing left to give.
The bloodied earth beneath us seems to swallow the last remnants of hope. I can almost feel the end, the cold embrace of death inching closer with each labored breath.
Keagan steps closer to Zander, crouching beside him like a predator savoring its kill.
He leans in close to Zander’s ear, his words so low and laced with malice that I can hardly make out what he is saying.
“Too bad. I’ll make sure she knows how weak you are.
” His wings flare, the feathers like razors, and with a final screech of defiance, Keagan shifts once more.
The monster’s massive form disappears into a flurry of feathers, a violent burst of air, and in its place, a crow black as sin spreads its wings wide. The creature lets out a caw, one last mocking cry that echoes in the night, and then it is gone.
Feathers scatter in the wind, drifting down like cold raindrops, landing in the bloodied soil.
That is the last thing I see before the darkness claims me.