The female cultist cocked her head as she regarded the dawnmartyr, her demon eerily mirroring the gesture. The woman was human, probably slightly older than the siltori. She would have been beautiful with her long brown hair and delicate features if it weren’t for the unsettling way her lips pulled back into a snarl.
Summoners were always tricky ones to manage. No matter how much experience Veriel had in facing various magic, it was nearly impossible to quickly figure out what the summoned spirit’s abilities were - and that was dangerous. On normal occasions, Veriel would have Nasyra, their resident expert sembler, to help discern information. But today the lieutenant was alone and the best she could do was avoid it as they fought.
Then there was the Kinetic. She noticed that he had closed their distance to throw her back with his magic just now, before retreating back. His range must be quite limited - which was a boon to the dawnmartyr. The bad news was that they were standing amongst ruined buildings and rubble, offering the man plenty of projectiles to throw at her as he pleased. He needed to be the first one to go.
The siltori looked at the summoned demon, a skeletal creature with a dozen fleshy arms protruding out its back. She broke into a run once more, jumping over the broken walls that stood in her way.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the male cultist move, trying to close in so that she was in range for an attack. Abruptly, Veriel turned her head towards the Kinetic instead and threw Dawnstrife towards him. It soared, directed right into his heart. The male was taken by surprise, but he managed to jerk away just as the blade sunk into him. Instead of getting his heart, the blade found its way deep into his left shoulder.
It was better than nothing. When her cursed blade buried itself into a victim, it meant the affliction would persist until the sword was taken out. He would be paralyzed as her magic bled away his aether bit by bit. For now, the dawnmartyr could focus on the two opponents standing in front of her.
Unfortunately, that stunt had left only Iratallin in her hand while the other blades hovering around her were mere duplicates - which meant they were not varnished with her hexes. She would have to get close to afflict them because she didn’t want to risk losing her pact weapon in a weakened state like this.
During that, Veriel didn’t stop running and in a few moments, she was already a sword’s length away from the two. The demon reacted first as it howled and brought one of his hands down, trying to claw at her face. The siltori was quicker, in a flash of metal Iratallin sliced through its wrist and the severed hand fell with a soft thud. The creature stood frozen, a reassuring confirmation for Veriel that her hexes would work on the spirit - there was no guarantee on how long though.
Veriel turned her blade to the human woman and slashed at her, but she managed to jump out of the way. Undeterred, the siltori lunged again making a grab for the woman’s arm. The moment her wrist closed around it she felt something hard instead of flesh. She would’ve guessed that the summoner wore some kind of armor underneath her robe.
The cultist looked smug. “That’s right, witch. You can’t curse me yet.”
The dawnmartyr almost laughed out loud if she wasn’t so exhausted. The bitch must have thought she was smart. Affliction was never the most popular among the magical arts. Sure, it had its infamy, but due to its presence being shunned and banned from certain societies, most people knew very little of it. Even among magic wielders. Of course, there were tall tales and gossip that were whispered through villages. Scary stories to make sure children wouldn’t play around at night. Some were true, but most were false.
And Veriel was one of those few who happily kept those false myths alive. One of them was that afflictionists needed direct contact with skin to exert their power. It was certainly true when it came to her pact weapons. The blades would need to make a scratch - even the most minute contact that wouldn’t even draw blood - on her opponent’s flesh.
Unfortunately for everyone, it was a whole different story when it involved her own body. It didn’t matter how many layers you wore, what thick metal protected your flesh - unless it was warded against her specific magic… The moment she came into contact with anything attached to the body, there was no escaping the affliction.
In her haste, however, Veriel let the jinx of pain seize her opponent. It was a rookie mistake. Paralysis should always be first. That mistake cost her. Despite screaming in pain and her legs buckling, the summoner still managed to throw a punch right into the dawnmartyr’s jaw. Veriel had to let her go and stumble back a few steps.
The young elf tried to lunge for her opponent again, but the cultist had managed to grab hold of a broken wooden beam and began waving it around. It struck Veriel’s head once before she stopped the next blow with Iratallin. She wisely kept her distance from the siltori. They struggled in awkward dance until the jinx’s effect started to fade.
Veriel could hear the demon lumbering toward her from behind, but she couldn’t afford to take her eyes off the cultist in front of her. She sent all of her duplicate swords to hold it back. It cut and slashed at it, managing to sever two of its arms but the swords were outnumbered. Veriel could hear one of the swords being broken into two. Then another one.
The dawnmartyr knew somehow the creature had enough strength to break all of her duplicates. Fortunately, it wasn’t a stealthy thing and she could hear the exact moment it got too close to her.
She rolled out of the way as it tried to swipe at her, but she was too slow. Veriel could hear its claws tearing through the steel of the armor on her back and into her flesh. The moment she felt the searing sensation, the siltori knew it was poison. She gasped as pain and nausea seized her. Her muscles began seizing and she lost her balance, falling right into her back. It took every bit of her will not to drop the sword in her hand.
Her heart pounded as her aether frantically traveled through her own system to seize the poison. It was hurried and sloppy and Veriel would suffer for it later, but right now her magic managed to find the vile poison and drag it into her own weave of afflictions. Immediately, the effects began to fade away, but she still wasn’t fast enough.
The demon’s foot landed on her chest, pinning her down. Veriel swung her sword upwards, trying to slice off the arm, but her angle was slightly off. In a surprising bit of intelligence, the creature blocked off the attack with one of the severed arms
Her muscles screamed as they strained to hold its place.
Somehow black blood still dribbled down her sword from the dead arm. The moment the thick liquid dropped into Veriel’s skin, it started blistering and a cry escaped her lips. Still, with a shaky hand, the young dawnmartyr poured more aether into the pact weapon, willing it to hold. But every second it pushed the blade further down, inching closer to her face.
The woman grinned as she stood over the dawnmartyr while the demon reared its arms, claws out and ready to tear through the elf’s body.
Instead of struggling, Veriel smiled back. Dawnstrife, the blade that had been keeping the male cultist paralyzed, flew through the air and drove itself through the woman’s skull. Her eyes widened for a split second - whether from the surprise or the pain or just the twitch of her muscle as she died. The first few drops of blood fell right onto the siltori’s forehead and soon a lot more than drops followed. The summoner went limp, the body slumping over Veriel and knocking the wind out of her. For a few seconds, she could hear the demon screech in frustration before it faded into nothingness. Her blades clattered to the ground loudly and the young elf let out a sigh of relief.
With a grunt, Veriel shoved the dead body off her and sat herself up. She would have a few minutes before the hex fizzled out of the male cultist - maybe less considering that her exhaustion might weaken her magic. She had to use her sword to pull herself up and for a moment the world turned.
There was no more time to waste both Iratallin and Dawnstrife took to the air to deliver the final blow before the paralysis faded away.
Of course, things would never be that easy.