After all the bloodshed and things he had seen, the image of Gabriella's arms flying away tore into him. He pressed his hands onto his gut wound, melting the ice that tried to invade his body. The pain had yet to set in. The shock of his situation kept it at bay, but not for much longer.
Gabriella collapsed onto her back, her arm stomps freezing, the spell digging into her. Her knives skittered over the ground, falling out of the dead grasp of her severed arms. Gabriella stared wide-eyed into the sky, trying to understand what had happened. How could she be dismantled, losing in such a clear way? For the first time in her life, she questioned her confidence.
Trisa watched Gabriella, waiting for her to do something. But the mad girl did nothing, lying there defeated. The assassin wavered, her posture losing its balance. She outmatched them all, but this day had taken its toll on her. She turned away from Gabriella. In the heat of the fight, she became one with the cold her spells evoked. But once the deed was done, the fierce assassin melted away with the weapons she wielded, leaving behind someone else. Someone smaller. Someone regretful.
Any momentum she had built up, Trisa dismissed. She only kept strings around her arms. As she examined Liron, her eyes had cleared. The manic rage had evaporated, her exhaustion cleansing her from it. Trisa was young, but her life had hardened her. Any spark, or youthful edge, had died with the many lives she had taken. Her face was one of an old soul, begging for great salvation but too fearful to be the hand to bring it. Trapped in a life she had never wanted, what else was there to do than follow commands or seek revenge? At least, it was something to do.
Liron refused to kneel, standing. His stomach ached, every breath a punch to it. The cut wasn't deep enough to spill his guts. He could still fight, but even a tired Trisa would require only one spell to end him. Beyond her, he saw them. A distant dot, climbing from behind the horizon, speeding towards them. Free as a bird, they flew through the sky.
The Grand Janloo Company had arrived. They were coming towards Kupferrang.
Trisa followed Liron's eyes, seeing the Flying Island in the far distance. She smiled. A weak one. The motion confused her face, her muscles moving in ways they hadn't in years. "Ah, that's how you wanted to flee. I see. Smart. Must have cost you."
Trisa's eyes narrowed as she looked at Liron, searching for something. "They would turn you into me. You know that. No life is worth such effort. Only if it can provide a… service no other can. Is this really what you want? To become like me? No… I do you a favor, Liron."
"Trisa," Liron said, "please. You don't have to do this. You can still stop."
The assassin shook her head. "That is not true, and you know that. Don't beg for your life."
Liron dismissed his knife, throwing himself down on his knees. "Please, Trisa, please! I don't want to die! I wanted nothing of this! Amor… I never wanted to kill him…"
"Don't say his name…"
"He left me no other choice! He just wouldn't stop!"
"I said don't…"
"He said it was for you," Liron lied."
Trisa took a step back, her expression crumbling. "Wh… what?"
"He… he said he couldn't stop because of you. He… he wanted both of you to quit. So he thought if he killed me, then it would be enough to…"
"Shut up!" Trisa hissed, pointing at Liron.
Liron summoned all the guilt he had, forcing tears out of his eyes. "He forced me to!" he shrieked. "I never want to kill him! I'm sorry! I'm sorry I took him from you, but it wasn't my fault!"
"Whose fault was it then, huh?! Who else but you?! You killed him! It was you!"
"It's Mira's fault! She made you into this! She allowed all o' this to happen! You know that! She's at fault! You have to go after her, not me! If you hate her so much, why don't you just fuckin' kill her?!"
Trisa's eye twitched. Liron's words rampaged through her mind, echoing through her very core. She struggled to respond, grimacing as she tried to insult and curse him. But she knew him to be right. She knew he had spoken the truth. Why had she never tried to kill Mira?
Trisa clawed into her hair, bowing down. She found the answer, but she couldn't face it. It lay buried with other secrets. Hidden things that shattered Trisa's mind. As she pulled at her hair, the wound on her head reopened, blood pouring down her face.
She looked up at Liron, her left side painted crimson. "You liar!" she snarled. "You are trying to save your life when you are Mira! You are Mira! I have enough of your lies and deception! No more. I will impale you from the inside. I will watch as my ice, the one you chose me for, tears through your throat, you bitch!"
Liron's ruse had worked better than he had wanted. Angin had said that he was quite the actor, but he had underestimated his own skill. Trisa was livid, barking at him like a sick dog. He had not once glimpsed around him. He didn't know what Emma or Gabriella were planning, but whatever they were up to, they would need an opening. One Liron had created for them.
Angin had told him several times. Magic was madness. It had no clear rhyme and reason to it. In particular at the beginning stations where Wizards had the chance to experiment before they chose one path. Gabriella was not fond of choosing. She wanted to change and grow forever. And upon experiencing her first loss, Sister Death closing up on her, she smiled.
She smiled at the opportunity to improve. Only thanks to the assassin was she pushed into a corner she couldn't escape from without furthering her madness.
She summoned her wolf, twisting its shape yet again. Tendrils of muscle, flesh, and fur crept out of her shadows. They reached into her wounds, seizing the ice that had hollowed her out up to the shoulders and slowly suffocating it. It died without noise, ensuring Trisa didn't notice.
The pain blinded her, tears rolling down her cheek. If the assassin had remained calm and never raised her voice, she would have heard Gabriella's panting, heavy with her dampened sobs. But entranced in her own wrath, the mad girl continued her operation without Trisa's notice. Her Conduit anchored itself into her shoulders, replacing all that was lost. She focused half the beast's entire mass on growing new arms for her. The mass was compressed into the thin limbs of a highborn lady.
The Silver Moon had seen the strangest of things. As Gabriella rose, her wet face twisting into a smile, the mad girl became one of them.
Trisa stepped towards Liron, her webs sharpened. Gabriella stumbled forward, weak on her legs after losing as much blood as she did. She collected herself, cautious to not make a sound. And then she bolted forward. Her new arms were longer than her old ones, and she used them as an aid to run faster, moving like the wolf they were made from.
Gabriella's fingers had transformed into long, crooked claws, and she struck the assassin in the back. As she caught up to Trisa, she felt the familiar snap of the invisible strings. The assassin had woven them around her. But she reacted too late, her wrath slowing her senses.
Gabriella's claws dug into her back, aiming to grip her spine and break it. Biting her lip bloody, Trisa jerked away, avoiding death at the last moment. Her footwork saved her life, dancing away. Gabriella had tasted blood, earning her first true victory against her opponent. She stood in front of Liron for only a moment before rushing the assassin, but it was enough to get a good look at Gabriella's arm.
Two twisted things, muscle, flesh, and fur transitioning into one another. Gabriella had no understanding of anatomy or care for aesthetics. Her limbs were forged in the depths of a nightmare, meant to instill dread in all who faced her. Liron choked when he saw them, and even Trisa appeared disturbed.
Gabriella had forgotten all planning or strategy. She threw herself at Trisa, thrashing at her, fighting as mindlessly as the Wrathlings. Her arms were a whirlwind, faster than ever before. Her original flesh had prohibited her before, opposing limitations on her. But she had discarded them, breaking through to heights that were beyond human.
The assassin regained her composure, her training taking control. Gabriella offered her no opening, forcing her onto the defense. But as there was no opening, Trisa created one for herself. A brief twist of her hand, and she caught Silverlight on her threads, reflecting into Gabriella's face, blinding her.
Like a spider having caught its prey, she sprang forward. Her arms were deadly weapons, too. They would slice and pierce through Gabriella. She knew of this. With her eyes closed, she opened herself up, spreading her arms. Her embrace of death made Trisa hesitate long enough for Gabriella to perform a high kick at the assassin.
Trisa blocked the attack, cutting off Gabriella's leg. The mad girl laughed at that, her shadows shooting up, connecting to her bloody stomp. She cried out in pain as her Conduit embedded itself into her. As the mass constructed her replacement limb, she put her whole weight on it, hissing in pain, throwing a kick with her remaining leg.
As before, it was slashed off. Gabriella fell down, pressing herself up as she pressed the remnants of her Conduit into her wound. Trisa stared at her, wide-eyed. Her fingers twitched, and she backed away.
"What is it?!" Gabriella cried out, grimacing as her Conduit drilled into her. "Did you think you could best me with such foolish tricks?! You simpleton! I am the crowning achievement of our kind, and you think I will accept defeat by a hand so foul? No! I shall claim victory, regardless of what I have to do! You shan't hide behind your wicked Magic any longer! You will know your place! Below me!"
With that, Gabriella lunged at Trisa. Her legs mimicked a wolf's, granting her a speed unseen before. The assassin unwrapped the webs from her arms, shooting them at debris, pulling herself away. But as Gabriella touched the ground, she leaped at Trisa, reaching her before she could slash at her.
Liron wanted to join in, but he didn't know how to. The exchange was beyond anything he had to offer. Only Trisa's experience kept her alive, dodging and repositioning herself to avoid lethal strikes. Gabriella had ascended, weaponizing the wrath lying in all of Drom's Children. She had comprehended her new limbs and their strengths and weaknesses, adjusting her fighting style to them. Gone was her acrobatics and finesse. The young lady was reborn into a savage.
Gabriella's talent was one to be admired. But her own flesh had limited her, and her Conduit had freed her from them. She had painted with nothing but black and white before, wielding a block of charcoal. Now she had discovered color, with Trisa as her canvas. And Gabriella had chosen which color she wanted to soak the assassin in.
The mad girl jumped into the air, spinning around. She had never been happier. Liron's memories of the Bliss paled compared to the manic euphoria she enjoyed. Underneath the Silver Moon, she had joined the clouds, flying higher and higher.
Yet, it wasn't enough.
Even after all she had achieved, she landed no hit against Trisa. The assassin's face hardened. She predicted Gabriella's motions, moving before her opponent did. Talent couldn't beat skill. At least, not without help.
Liron waited for the right moment, blasting himself into the midst of the battle. He would not outperform either Gabriella or Trisa, but his sword technique and his embers would increase the pressure on the assassin, helping to shatter her defenses and end this clash.
Slow and clumsy, Liron's haue failed to come close to cutting Trisa, but they did their part, pushing the assassin backwards as Gabriella continued her assault. The mad girl would run out of energy. Her blood loss drained her last reserves, her strikes losing speed and ferocity. On their own, both lacked the strength to secure the win, but combined they could shove Trisa towards her death.
Not letting her have one second to breathe, Liron and Gabriella showered her in slashes, pummeling into the webs enveloping her arms. Each hit cracked them up or melted them further. The assassin had no chance to flee anymore, planting her feet into the ground and concentrating on nothing but the defense.
Or so they thought.
Magic was a flexible thing. Any good Wizard knew how to trick and deceive their opponent.
The ground glittered, blending Liron. He glanced down, seeing the strings that spread out from Trisa's feet. Standing where they did, they activated the traps woven underneath them. Ice stalactites erupted from the webs, impaling Liron's and Gabriella's legs. They froze them into place, sprouting no further crystals deeper into their flesh.
Trisa tumbled backwards. Casting the spell while enduring the barrage had taken all from her, failing to give the trap any potency. Her arms were covered in cuts, blood pouring out of them. Liron ground his teeth, crying at the cold grasping his leg. He became lightheaded, his system overwhelmed by this agony, holding him still. Every attempt to move would tear his wound open. His embers would melt the ice, but it would take a moment. One he didn't have. Gabriella had no feelings in her legs. She could have ripped them off and regrown them, but her gamble had tired her out, struggling to keep standing.
Liron pointed his blade at her, but Trisa had enough strength left to conjure another web attached to her fingers. She sliced his sword into pieces, cleaving into his left arm. Only his thumb and pointy finger remained on his hand, half his forearm falling to the ground. His embers moved to kill the ice from spreading. If the spike didn't hold him up, he would have collapsed. He stared at his left arm, or what he had left of it. He could still feel his fingers, a throbbing scratching at the rigged edges of his wound.
Should he survive this, Liron knew Angin would heal him. But his heart sang him a different song. His fragile body shredded apart, proof of how easy his life could be taken or drastically changed. How was he supposed to work with a hand like this? Liron's thoughts revolved around his future in the forge. He had hoped to become a smith one day. What else could he have done? He had forgotten Trisa, his mind deteriorating into sludge.
The assassin continued with Gabrialla, slashing into her arms. The dense muscle and thick skin and fur proved itself a tougher opponent than Liron's. Yet, the string cut into her Conduit, leaving deep gashes behind. Both Liron and Gabriella had lost, with no way of fighting back or running away.
Trisa blinked, her eyes growing heavy. Her fatigue reached her mind, paralyzing her tongue. She wanted to say something, but she couldn't. She massaged her temples, taking a moment. As her head cleared up, she remembered that she hadn't fought against two Apprentices but three.
Emma sprang forward from behind debris, rushing Trisa. She wielded one of Gabriella's kitchen knives. She had waited for the perfect moment to strike, aiming to plunge the blade into the assassin's back. Emma got closer than she should have. No invisible strings to warn Trisa, but she predicted the ambush to occur. Emma had no training in combat or assassinating. Trisa did, knowing how to spot a killer based on nothing but their faint footsteps.
She twisted around, but Emma was already in front of her. Trisa maneuvered around, taking the knife into her left shoulder. Trisa grabbed Emma by the throat, swept her legs from underneath her, and slammed her into the ground. Pinning her down, she used her left hand to pull out the knife, discarding it. But after this final service, her left arm refused to work properly. Unlike Liron, her wound was deeper, her hand only twitching when given a command.
"Fu… fuck!" Trisa barked, tightening her grip on Emma. Her spider webs wrapped around her arm, inching closer to her foe. As the threads were to pierce the neck, Trisa hesitated.
"Pl… please," Emma whispered, her voice raspy. She grabbed Trisa's forearms, cutting her fingers open in the attempt to get her off. "I… I didn't want… I didn't want to…"
Tears rolled down her cheek, hitting Trisa harder than all they had thrown at her. Biting her lips, she began humming, but the melody had no effect on nerves. "You… you are also… Mira. You must be. I need to…"
"Noo!" Liron roared. "She's not, and you know that! You are killing an innocent person! I am Mira! I killed Amor and ruined your life! If there is someone you should be mad at, it's me!"
"Shut your fucking mouth!" Trisa screeched. "Shut up, shut up, shut up!"
"Then fuckin' stop this! You know it's wrong!"
Trisa looked up at Liron, bearing her teeth. "Yeah, it is. Like everything you made me do! What's one more life compared to all who I have killed! With this one, I can make you suffer, at least! I can make you feel my pain, you bitch! I will… I will make you watch as I… as I."
Trisa's conviction wavered, her eyes searching the ground for any justification. Anything that would give her a reason to continue. In the depths of the destruction she had brought, she found the only friend she had left.
"I will force-feed her my strings! I spread my ice throughout her body and make you watch as she is impaled from the inside! Before this is over, you will know what her screams sound like! And it will be your fault that you…"
"Trisa…" a familiar voice said.
Trisa stopped, her snarl frozen in place. It crumbled to dust and took with it the vigor it had granted her. Left behind was nothing but a little girl fearing to look down and see who she held. She knew it was a trap. All her instincts screamed at her to not fall for it. But her broken mind sought any respite. A glimpse of the hope she had lost.
"Amor?" Trisa asked, looking down.
Amor didn't match the memory Liron or the assassin had of him. But it was close. Close enough to convince Trisa for all but a moment. Long enough for Emma to sneak her hand towards her back, pulling out the second knife she had hidden there.
Trisa smiled, loosening her grip. In response, her beloved rammed a knife into her throat. Her bliss lasted for a second longer before realization hit. She coughed, blood dripping from the blade in her neck. Emma got her feet on Trisa's stomach and kicked her off. The assassin screeched, stumbling backward. Her voice was a wet one, cut into two by the steel inside her neck.
No Wizard, no matter how powerful, would survive a wound like this. Bested by three Apprentices. Young ones at that. She lost for certain, but she didn't have to greet Sister Death alone.
Trisa froze the flesh around her neck, ensuring she lost no more blood. Utilizing the last of life, she poured it all into one last spell, repeating the rabbit trap that had taken out an entire floor and caused the collapse of the bureau. Her webs spread throughout the ground, covering all. They moved slower than before, but her prey had no way to flee what was to come.
As the ice sprouted, Liron glanced at Emma. Amor's face had vanished into an Inquisitor's mask, mist hovering around her. She dismissed her Conduit, staring at Liron. Angin was clear. No heroes. He had promised it to him. But he would not lose his sister. He would not allow her to die.
Promises be damned, Liron melted away the ice impaling his legs. He fell to his knees, smoke amassing behind his back, his knife appearing in his right hand.
"Liron, no!" Emma screamed.
He focused on Trisa, the assassin returning the favor. Without hesitation, Liron blasted himself at the assassin, colliding into her. He drove his knife into her chest, hearing her gasp as his blade tasted her blood. As he had hoped, the momentum threw them both off the bureau.
Their descent was a short one. Trisa punched her hand into the wound on Liron's stomach. Her webs slashed into him, reaching his guts, her fingers squeezing it. Pain like Liron had never imagined it. A few more seconds, and she would have ripped out his organs. But she had torn down half the bureau. Her loss was one of her own making. Liron watched the assassin's face, her hateful expression, as they slammed into the roof of a house standing next to the bureau.