Fan Fiction ❯ The Soul Reaver and The Spirit Shield ❯ Cruelty of the Sarafan ( Chapter 16 )

Chapter Sixteen

Jenise and Stephin charged at each other, the lust for the other's blood gleaming in their eyes. Going into the battle, Jenise was unsure if she would be able to match Stephin's strength and skill in combat. During the year she was dead, Stephen had grown in strength, classifying him at the highest Sarafan rank.

When Jenise had left Raziel to conduct her interrogation, the reaver of souls remained concealed behind the corner in the corridor, much to his dismay. He strained to listen in on the conversation at hand, but was displeased with the fact that Jenise was too far down the hallway to hear clearly. The spacious corridor had also created a soft echo, making spoken words less clear.

Raziel decided he would stand guard from his side, of the corridor, ensuring that no Sarafan entering the stronghold would be able to take Jenise by surprise. Raziel's patience was wearing thin as the minutes passed by. Hadn't Jenise gotten the information she requested? He continued waiting a few more moments, hoping that Jenise would reappear any moment. When she failed to return, Raziel gave up and decided he would take matters into his own hands.

Just as Raziel was about to emerge from his post, he heard the distinctive sound of metal on metal followed by a grunt of exertion. Raziel quickly turned the corner, and froze in shock. Before him, he saw Jenise surrounded by Sarafan. Around her were the guardsman, two powerful knights, and a high-ranking priest. And to Raziel's dismay, Jenise had chosen to pick a fight with the strongest of the group.

"Foolish girl! What has she gotten herself into now?" Raziel griped as he hefted the long sword he had recently obtained. "She still has injuries from her last battle, and she decides to battle against a Sarafan stronger than she?"

Raziel quickly approached the battle. He was in no mood to mess around and intended on ending the scuffle quickly. He had more important matters to attend to. He didn't want to waste his time rescuing a short-tempered priestess from a battle she should have been smart enough to have not started. Ducking from a potentially fatal swing, Jenise noticed Raziel's approach.

"Stay out of this Raziel. This is between me and him," she warned in a low growl. Stephin glanced over his left shoulder, confirming the presence of this `Raziel'.

"So, you have brought an ally, Jenise. Though by the looks of him, I don't see how he could possibly be of any assistance to you. But this I can tell: you have betrayed the Sarafan by confiding in a demon such as that. By this simple act, you have signed your own death warrant," taunted Stephin. He then directed his next comment to the knights. "Derrick. Tantus. Destroy that beast."

Once again, Raziel found himself on the disadvantaged side of a two-on-one. He crouched into a defensive position as the knights took to arms and charged after him. It seemed they were overconfident with themselves, eager to obey their master's order. Both the knights were armed with short swords, making the battle easier to win. His sword had a longer reach and the bear of the sword's weight did not affect Raziel, unlike his opponents.

The first of the knights attempted to distract Raziel while the second attacked from behind. However, Raziel's experience in battle prepared him for such an amateur tactic. Before the first knight could attack, Raziel swung his sword at the knight, taking him by surprise. The knight raised his sword to block the attack, but he didn't feel his sword make contact with his opponent's.

Instead, Raziel had pulled the swing at the last moment. Using the momentum, he spun on his heal, turning 180 degrees to face the second knight. Raziel swung his sword down and across the Sarafan's torso, causing the unsuspecting knight to howl in pain. Raziel then turned back to the first knight, who was still shocked by the speed at which Raziel fought.

Raziel thrust his sword at the knight, who at the last moment dodged out of the way, missing the blow by a hair. He wasn't given a chance to recover, as he found himself on the wrong side of another attack. Raziel brought the sword down again, and with it, took the Sarafan's left hand. The knight dropped his sword, and clutched the stump of his left arm, screaming in pain.

Distracted by his injury, the knight did not notice Raziel pull his sword back for a third attack. It wasn't until he could feel the cold of the metal through his chest that the knight realized he had been impaled by Raziel's weapon. He looked down at the hilt of the sword sticking out of his chest before looking up into Raziel's eyes. An expression of shock and horror filled the knight's face for a moment, before relaxing as death overtook him. His body slumped to the ground.

The second knight had regained his second wind and charged at Raziel, growling with rage. The knight was able to connect a blow across Raziel's back, causing the reaver of souls to grunt in pain. Raziel quickly scooped up the discarded weapon of the first knight and turned to the remaining knight.

The knight seemed to hesitate a moment, attempting to calculate his next attack. He took a poorly aimed swing at Raziel, who easily avoided the attack. While Raziel dodged, the knight attempted to summon glyph energy into his weapon. With both arms hefted over his head, the knight left himself open to attack.

Raziel swung his sword in a sideways fashion, slitting the knight's throat. Blood spilled down the knight's armor and onto the ground, followed by the knight's lifeless form. Raziel quickly consumed the souls of the fallen knights, regenerating his wounds and exertion from battle. With his enemies decimated, he turned his attention to the other ongoing fight.

When Stephin had ordered his subordinates to attack Raziel, Jenise took the moment of diversion to attack her opponent. She nearly delivered a crippling blow, but Stephin saw the attack at the last moment. With greater than expected speed, he blocked the blow at the last moment. Swiping his free hand from left to right, he backhanded Jenise across her face, sending her flying across the corridor. Her helmet was knocked from her head, rolling several meters until it crashed into the far wall

Jenise was knocked down to her knees, her head spinning from the force of the blow. She clenched her teeth as she tried to get her bearings straight. She slowly rose to her feet, glaring at Stephin with rage. She raised her sword again, preparing another attack. Stephin interrupted her with an attack of his own. He sliced at her abdomen.

Jenise backed up quickly, but could not completely avoid the blow. The tip of the priest's sword had connected with the priestess. The strength of the sword easily ripped through Jenise's old armor, tore through the cotton below and made contact with her skin. A flare of pain spread across Jenise's midriff. However, she knew that the blow was only a flesh wound.

Jenise recomposed herself, crouching defensively. Once again, the warriors were in a temporary stalemate, circling each other, waiting for the other to strike. Jenise intently studied Stephin. She could feel his eyes doing the same. Slowly, the distance between the two shrank and the two combatants raised their weapons. The two swords crashed together, sending a few stray sparks into the air.

As the weapons collided, Jenise grabbed Stephin's right wrist with her left hand. Almost instantly, the priest copied the priestess's move, grabbing her right wrist as well. A match of strength ensued. They glared into each other's eyes, teeth clenched as each fighter tried to out strength the other. It was evenly matched for what seemed like several long moments.

Realizing Jenise was not going to back down, Stephin grinned maliciously. Doubt flashed across the priestess's mind, wondering what her enemy was planning. To her horror, Jenise watched as Stephin's left hand began to glow with glyph energy. As the energy rose within his hand, so did his strength. Clamping down harder, Jenise could feel his grip tightening as the circulation to her right hand was cut off. Her hand quickly going numb, she refused to release her sword. Doing so would leave her helpless.

Stephin could feel Jenise's strength begin to falter. But still she would not back down. He had to admire her for her determination, but at the same time, pity her for her foolishness. The priest continued to tighten his grip. Jenise gritted her teeth, trying to fight the pain. Both could feel the stress of the bones in Jenise's wrist and forearm. Stephin sadistically clenched down the rest of the way on Jenise's arm. He took great pleasure at the sound and feel of bones snapping.

A small whimper of pain escaped Jenise's lips as her arm was mangled. Unable to hold her sword any longer, it crashed to the ground. The sound of metal hitting stone reverberated in the empty corridor. Jenise, wracked with pain, absent mindedly released her grip on Stephin's weapon arm.

The priest took immediate advantage of the situation. As he released the priestess's broken limb, he brought the back of his right hand across her face. Jenise once again fell to the ground. This time, she did not get back up. She remained on her knees; head down, cradling her injured arm. Stephin took this time to gloat his victory over her.

"My dear little, priestess. Look how weak you are. I still do not see why my Lord ever favored you like his personal little pet. He should never have wasted his time with you, traitor," he mocked her. Jenise remained silent. Her head still downcast, she did not move. The only sound from her was that of heavy panting.

"You are completely helpless. Not even your alliance with that demon will spare you now. My highly trained knights will soon defeat him," Stephin took a moment to point out Raziel's disadvantaged combat. The knights were on either side of him readying an attack. "If you beg me of it, I shall end your suffering quickly, rather than let you live out your agony. Beg me like your cowardice mentor Zechariah begged me before I took his life!"

Jenise's head snapped up at the last taunt. Zechariah! He was the only other person that Jenise ever cared for other than her father. He had taken her in and raised her when no one else would. He had taught her everything he knew about fighting in combat. He had been tough on her, but she could tell he cared for her like she was his own daughter.

Zechariah had supported Jenise entirely, though deep down inside he hoped she would reconsider her desire for revenge. His heart had been broken the day the Sarafan recruited her. But at the same time, his heart swelled with pride, as he watched her leave with the Sarafan. Jenise had surprised him with her determination. She had grown into quite the fighter, and under Sarafan training, she would become even greater.

"Zechariah was not a coward! And he would never beg for death, especially from you," her words were laced with venom. She slowly rose to her feet, the pain in her right arm ebbed as her anger rose. She glared daggers of death at Stephin.

"So you still have some fight left in you!" sneered the priest, slowly pacing towards his prey. He lifted his sword in the air, intent on delivering the final blow. As his sword came down, a voice from his left interrupted him.

"Jenise! You're injured! Let me finish this fight for you!" came Raziel's voice. He had just finished his battle and had already had enough time to evaluate Jenise's dire situation.

The interruption was enough to throw Stephin's swing off balance, as his head had turned to his left at the sound of Raziel's voice. Jenise quickly ducked below the blow that would have surely taken her head had her opponent not been distracted. Stephin's head spun around at Jenise's sudden movement. He watched helplessly as she dodged around his right side. Rolling once, she scooped up her discarded sword with her left hand before rising back to her feet.

She had some training with her left hand, but it still was much weaker than her right would have been under normal circumstances. Unfortunately, she had no choice. However, with her extreme rage, this didn't even register to her. The only thought on her mind was to kill the murderer of her caretaker.

"Jenise! Stop! You're going to get yourself killed!" Raziel tried warning her, but his words fell on deaf ears. Jenise began to concentrate on her final attack. Raziel could feel her energy rising. He could sense her lust for blood. It was overwhelming his senses. Raziel studied Jenise, looking into her face. He was shocked to see the blank look that had planted itself there and the expressionless gaze in her eyes, like she was in a trance.

Stephin had turned to face Jenise as she stood in place. Her eyes never wavering from him. The sight of her standing stoically like she was, her sword held up in her left hand, was an amusing sight to him. And he let it be known.

"So the priestess thinks she still has a fighting chance? Against a superior officer? Oh, how I wish I could record this moment! I will take great pleasure in killing you," he mused. Jenise's gaze didn't falter. However, her energy continued growing at an exponential rate.

As Stephin took a step towards Jenise, her energy came to a pinnacle. She suddenly snapped from her stoic stare down and charged the priest with a war cry. She ran at him with her sword raised high in the air over her head. Stephin stopped in his tracks, shocked by Jenise's sudden attack. Raziel watched dumbfounded.

As Jenise came within striking distance, she swung her sword down at Stephin. As she did so, her aura became visible. She was engulfed in a transparent crimson energy. Stephin barely had enough time to bring his sword up to block. However, Jenise's attack did not end there. After the weapons had connected, Jenise pulled back her sword and thrust it at Stephin, piercing his armor. The end of the sword punctured his left side. Stephin hissed in pain.

Before the priest could recover, Jenise pulled the sword from Stephin's side and swung it downward, slicing across both the priest's thighs. Stephin staggered back a few paces. This opened him up for another attack. Jenise brought the sword over her head again and swung it downwards. The end of her sword sliced across Stephin's torso. Luckily for him, his armor protected him.

Because the last blow had failed to deliver damage, Stephin was given a window of a second to regain the advantage. As Jenise prepared another strike, Stephin raised his left hand, blocking the blow with his gauntlet. With Jenise's weapon stopped and her right hand injured, Stephin was given the opportunity for a devastating blow. And he took advantage of it.

Pulling his sword back, he thrust it into Jenise's torso, directly in the middle of her midriff. As the blow was delivered, the aura that had once surrounded Jenise subsided. Horrified, she looked down at the sword, still imbedded in her stomach. She looked up with shock filled eyes at Stephin.

The priest's face was laced with immense pleasure. Sadistically, he turned his sword within her, so that the blade was vertical, and pulled the sword upwards, slicing up her body. Only the disgusting sound of ripping flesh filled the air.With a jerk, Stephin pulled his weapon from Jenise's body. With nothing holding the priestess up, she slumped to the ground. Her blood immediately began to pool around her.

Raziel could only stare in horror. The almost forgotten guardsman stood silent, jaw gaping at his superior's brutality. The silence was interrupted by Stephin's savage laughing.