Girl With The Golden Cat Eyes - 22 A night full of terrors

The man’s wail was cut short, his face illuminated by orange light, as the black longsword cut him in two. From his shoulder to pelvis, his guts splattered onto the onyx skeleton’s bony feet. Blue hell-fire eyes reflected in the man’s terror-filled eyes. The village of Iron Horn on his left, being ravaged by flames. Screams filled the air along with a mass of smoke that half shielded the moon and stars.

Layla’s heart roared as fear and adrenaline pulsed through her veins. It screamed at her to run, run far from the unholy monster that stood before her. Black as night, and nearly invisible if not for flame-light; but her maternal instincts kept her rooted. Because behind her, terrified screams of children and their mothers sounded. However, even if she wanted to flee, the skeleton blocked the path.

The skeleton brought the longsword up again, almost mechanically, and stepped over the dead man. Then it brought the sword up and chopped at Layla. She parried at an angle with the flat. The swords sparked on contact, but the longsword slid away into the dirt at Layla’s side. She used the moment to spring the shortsword around, then thrusted the point of her sword at its skeleton’s right eyesocket. She was too slow.

The skeleton reared its head. The blade fell an inch short, and she retreated; cursing her short reach. The monster pulled the blade from the dirt and gave chase. Its bones rattled angrily with each step up the side of the mountain. Layla was already tired from the other skeletons she had fought, this being the last one of the group. She didn’t know how much longer she could fight for…

Without respite, the skeleton attacked again. It brought the sword around again, this time, it swung horizontally as it stepped at her. With a longer reach, and well within its range, Layla had no choice but to duck. The sword cut a few locks of her dark brown hair that had failed to follow her in time. Once the sword had passed, she took her chance.

She sprung up, like a leopard, and stabbed for its eye again. This time, the skeleton could not react in time. Just as it was recovering from its own strike, it turned into the attack. The blade pierced through the socket, and the flame. The skeleton let out a low whine before it crumbled to the dirt. Its bones joined its fallen brothers as they clattered against the other bones.

Layla panted heavily, and her body burned. She had been fighting for no more than ten minutes. However, she hadn’t fought for her life in years. Her muscles had grown weak with peace. Reaction, strength, and agility had left her. Had she been at her peak nearly ten years ago, she could have easily slaughtered all of these monsters. Alas, motherhood had called upon her, and she had grown complacent, and that complacency would be the death of her yet.

Her little enclave was the most defensible position with one way up or down. Steep precipices towered opposite of the village. She had picked this spot because of it. Had this been a bandit attack, it would have been the safest place in the village. The undead did not think nor fear, thus whatever advantage she had, besides it being a chokepoint, was lost. Even after she had killed six of them, that last one still fought to the end.

She turned her eyes back down the path. Several more bodies laid further down, where the skeletons had caught some.

Her eyes flicked further down as a group of four villagers scrambled up the path. In tow, six skeletons gave chase; their blades nipping at their heels.

“Help!” One of them called out.

“Layla, help us!” A woman cried. “By the Gods, help us!”

She could faintly see their bodies. They were bloodied and covered in grime. None of them carried any weapons of a sort. Layla cursed them in her heart. They had brought more to her, and she was nearing her limit. She had just fought a group with just her and the dead man. Now, they brought more. Without offering to help her fight, the group passed by her. The fresh skeletons changed their target to her.

The group was not tight or orderly, rather, they were a small file of monsters. The first in the file charged Layla with a black shortsword. She pulled the mana in her to her offhand, knocked the monster’s blade aside, and countered with an open palm-full of swirling wind. The magic, shaped with her intent, exploded forward and flung the skeleton over its friends. The next one never faltered and cleaved down at her with a bastard sword.

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She sidestepped to the right and crashed into the stone mountainside with her right side. The second skeleton and the third stabbed at her, and she evaded backward. The swords bit into the stone and skeletons jerked from their momentum. She took the momentary opening and pierced the second skeleton’s eye. It crumbled away, and she kicked the third before it could fully recover. A gleam of a black blade cut through the darkness on her right. She ducked and rolled back.

It was the fourth skeleton, flanked by the last two as it charged past the third. She willed mana into her offhand again, but this time, the three skeletons attacked at once. The first chopped down, and the other two attacked from their respective sides with stabs. The three-pronged attack almost got her. The blades only tore through the hem of her dress. Then the middle skeleton attacked again.

It thrusted the sword out, long and black, it cut the smokey air. Layla parried, knocked its blade away as she stepped into the attack; throwing a large semi-transparent orb that swirled in her off-hand into its face. The aethereal orb splashed over the skull and both the Hell-fire and the orb clashed for a moment. Then, the skeleton crumbled. The hell-fire extinguished from its eyes.

The fifth and sixth continued their assault, the left skeleton stabbed again; the fifth slashed downward at her. She jumped back, rammed against her fence that marked the end of her courtyard. The wood creaked in protest, and a black blade cut against through the air. She was late on the evasion and the blow, a stab from the third skeleton, had stabbed through her left forearm as she tried to bring it up forth another spell.

She let out a pained gasp as she felt the blade stab through her muscle. Searing heat shot through her arm, followed by a sudden chill. As she pulled away, the blade cut a few more inches down her forearm. She swung her sword around and severed the skull from its spin. The onyx skull danced wildly through the air and off the edge of the sloped path. The skeleton let go of its weapon and tried to chase after its head before, it too, fell off the side.

How, along with her lungs, her forearm burned, and she had lost the ability to juggle spells with her sword. She was not a trained Magic Swordswoman, she could not challenge her mana through her sword, nor could she rely on her magic solely. Thus, she could not use her Holy Banishment anymore. One of the few spells she had learned from her adventuring days.

She grimaced at the pain. Baring her teeth, she charged wildly at the remaining two monsters. This warcry was accompanied by another as one of the wounded men from earlier charged in with her, Layla’s shovel in hand.

“Aaahhh!” Layla cried out in her do or die moment.