Fan Fiction ❯ The Soul Reaver and The Spirit Shield ❯ Brink of Death ( Chapter 18 )

Chapter Eighteen

Raziel could only stare in horror. The Sarafan Priest Stephin had cruelly impaled Jenise with his sword, but didn't stop until he had sliced her up the middle. Jenise now helplessly lay bleeding to death on the ground at Stephin's feet. The priest laughed like a savage brute completely devoid of any human compassion. The guardsman numbly stood by and watched, too afraid to move.

"I told you, you would never win this fight Jenise," Stephin taunted. Jenise managed to find enough strength to give him a silent, hate-filled glare. "But now I tire of your antics. I'm going to end this once and for all. You should feel honored priestess. For I shall finish you off using the ability you couldn't even come close to attaining."

Jenise said nothing. She simply waited for death's end. She had experienced it once before. Death no longer scared her. In her agony, she actually welcomed the release from her pain. She watched as Stephin began to gather energy, using his glyph manipulation technique. His body began to glow with an orange aura surrounding him. The priest raised his sword high above his head preparing what would definitely be the final blow.

Raziel watched as Jenise's second demise was slowly unfolding. Stephin was less than seconds away from delivering his attack. Raziel did the only thing he could think of. As Stephin brought the blade down, Raziel raced to intercept the weapon. The reaver of souls leapt between Stephin and Jenise. Looking up at the descending sword, he instinctively brought his arms up in defense. Jenise lay motionless on the ground behind him. He only hoped his efforts would not be in vain.

Raziel had entered the blade's path before Stephin could change the course of his swing. The blade connected with Raziel, slicing through his right forearm and right shoulder. The strength of the blow instantly weakened Raziel completely, forcing him into his spectral form. However, Raziel's interference was successful in stopping the attack from reaching Jenise. The reaver of souls quickly regained his composure from the sudden thrust from the physical realm. After devouring a few wandering souls, he set out to find a conduit for which to remanifest himself with.

Stephin could not stop his attack, when Raziel placed himself in front of the blade. The sword lodged itself into the demon's arm and shoulder, slicing through him. Stephin blinked in surprise at Raziel. The attack should have killed him. But before Stephin could take a moment to assess the situation, the demon before him began to fade from sight, as if his physical essence was dissolving before his eyes. The sword Raziel had been holding fell to the ground.

His blade no longer bound by Raziel's body, Stephin stood straight, pulling back his sword. The priest looked down at Jenise, who had been spared by the blow. Her face was covered by a sorrowful look. A smirk slowly spread across Stephin's face, believing he had destroyed Raziel.

"How foolish of your demon friend to think that he could save you," he sniggered. "He sacrificed himself thinking he could make a difference. And now you shall share his fate."

Jenise responded with a small grin. A soft chuckle passed her lips.

"What is so amusing, wench?" demanded the priest.

"You would…like to think that…wouldn't you?" she inquired, struggling to draw in breath between her words. "You…have no idea…do you?"

Stephin noticed that Jenise was no longer looking at him. Confused, he followed her gaze, turning around to see behind him. What he saw scared the hell out of him. It was Raziel! He had somehow survived the attack! The reaver of souls had remanifested behind Stephin without him knowing. Raziel had been preparing an attack while the priest's attention was on Jenise. Stephin found Raziel in a crouching position, aiming the wraith blade at him.

"And what do you plan on doing with that?" Stephin challenged Raziel.

Raziel responded by releasing a sphere of energy at Stephin. The priest was forced backwards several feet. Fortunately, he didn't fall on Jenise. Rather, the force of the blow caused him to jump back over Jenise's feet. Stephin did not fall, but he staggered to regain his balance. He looked back up at Raziel once he steadied himself, glaring at his attacker.

Stephin was about to take a step towards Raziel, when the reaver of souls released a second projectile at his opponent. Again, the priest was knocked backwards. The second blow had weakened the priest, sending him down on one knee, but he quickly regained his composure, rising back up to both feet.

"I'm going to kill you," Stephin fumed with rage at Raziel. The priest attempted to charge, but was knocked back by a third attack after only a few steps. Stephin fell backwards several feet, falling onto his back. Still he was able to get back up. Only this time, Raziel could tell that the priest's energy was failing him. The orange aura that had surrounded him had vanished with the third blow. Stephin gritted his teeth with determination. His anger did not allow him to give up.

Raziel shot a forth and final energy sphere at Stephin. The priest, too weak to avoid the attack, took a direct hit in the chest. He was sent backwards again, this time crashing into the wall behind him. His body colliding into the wall, Stephin was knocked unconscious. His prone body slumped to the ground. Raziel stood ready for another attack, waiting to see if the priest would rise again. After a few moments, Raziel was satisfied that he had subdued the enemy. He rose from his crouching position and dismissed the wraith blade.

Raziel rushed over to Jenise's side. As he did so, he did not notice the guardsman sneak over to Stephin. The guardsman lifted the priest, supporting Stephin's left arm over his shoulders and quickly escaped through the gate leading deeper into the stronghold. Raziel looked over Jenise, assessing her wounds. Her torso was what concerned him the most. The wound was a few inches deep and about six or seven inches long. Raziel was relieved when he realized that Jenise's breastplate had prevented Stephin's sword from invading her chest cavity. The result would have most likely caused her death by now.

"Jenise, are you okay?" Raziel asked her. It was a stupid question to ask, he knew, but he needed some kind of response from her to indicate she was still alive. The priestess opened her eyes, barely able to focus them on her ally.

"Raziel? You need…to go…before…they come back," she coughed out the words. "I'll…catch up…after…I rest." Her eyes began to roll up in the back of her head as she spoke.

"No Jenise. You need to stay awake," Raziel reasoned, as he cradled her head in an upward position, attempting to keep her awake. He knew that if she were to pass out, she would most likely die.

"No. I need…to rest. I'll…be…okay."

Raziel was about to argue with her when he was interrupted by the sound of the gate opening again. He looked over his shoulder, prepared to defend Jenise against any warrior who dared emerge from the gateway. He was surprised to see a single sorceress enter the corridor. She hurriedly ran over to the priestess's side, taking no notice of Raziel.

"Jenise? Jenise! It's really you!" she squealed. Raziel watched her suspiciously, waiting for her to take any action that would warrant her death. He studied her carefully. She wore minimal armor, for a sorceress's attacks were long range and usually did not close combat. Her dusty blonde hair was cut short, only a couple inches long. She had a tattoo etched below her left eye, a rune associated with sorcery. She seemed to be rather young, perhaps only a few years younger than Jenise. The priestess's eyes cracked open.

"Malia? Is…is that you?" Jenise stared at the concerned female face above her.

"Yes, it's me! My God, you look horrible! High Priest Stephin did a number on you! That guard came in dragging him mumbling something about a priestess and a demon and I had to come see if it was you! Everyone said you had died a year ago, but I didn't believe them! Where have you been all this time! I was so worried!" the teenage sorceress continuously jabbered like a typical…well, teenager.

"Excuse me, er…Malia?" Raziel interrupted the girl's rambling.

"Uh, yes?"

"If you don't mind, I think the reunion can wait. Jenise is in critical condition and is in of need of medical attention."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I guess I got carried away!" apologized the sorceress.

"Con…gradu…lations…Malia," Jenise sputtered. Malia's attention turned back towards the priestess with a questioning look on her face. "You finally…mastered…sorcery." The priestess grinned as best she could under the circumstances. Jenise had noticed the shaven hair of a sorceress and the rune tattooed on Malia's face. Raziel sighed with frustration.

"Can we please get her somewhere where her wounds can be treated?" he questioned irritably. Malia didn't answer vocally, but her attitude immediately became serious. She quickly evaluated Jenise's wounds, giving most attention to her torso. Malia tore away the shreds of chain mail and cotton that hung off Jenise's body so she could get a better look.

"This is serious," Malia replied dejectedly, shaking her head slowly. "There's only one way she can be saved…"

Raziel waited patiently for Malia to explain herself. When she didn't elaborate, he felt the urge to choke the solution out of her. Instead, his curiosity got the better of him as Malia began to unwrap the cloth to her robe from around her right arm. With her skin exposed, she placed her arm in front of Jenise's face, wrist turned towards the priestess.

"Here," Malia gently urged.

"No…I can't…I'm not…like that," refused the stubborn priestess. Raziel watched with confusion.

"You must, Jenise. You are too weak. You'll die if you don't. And I'm not going to let you die. So if I have to, I will force you to. And in your current condition, you can't stop me," Malia reasoned, but still Jenise did nothing. "Fine then, be that way," Malia replied with annoyance.

The sorceress withdrew her hand and with her left removed a small dagger from a sheath strapped to her left ankle. She took the blade to her left wrist and made a small incision. The cut was deep enough for a good flow of blood, but not too much that it cut through the arteries. The sorceress then replaced her wrist above the priestess, causing her blood to drip onto Jenise's lips. Raziel's eyes widened at what he witnessed next.

A few drops of blood fell onto Jenise's lips. The priestess seemed to struggle to resist once buried instinct. No longer able to resist the growing amount of blood on her lips, Jenise licked away the foreign substance. Noticing Jenise had given in, Malia lowered her wrist to Jenise's lips. To Raziel's surprise, Jenise willingly, no eagerly, accepted the offer. The priestess began to drink the sorceress's blood.

As Raziel watched, he noticed a difference between the way Jenise fed and the way the vampires he knew fed, including himself. From first hand experience, Raziel knew vampire feedings to be more ravenous. Sure, most feedings were based on need, but the vampires still took pleasure in it. But Jenise was different. She drank slowly, seeming to try to control herself. And the look in her eyes…was regretful.

While Jenise fed, her wounds slowly began to heal. Raziel noticed the blood within the wound in her torso begin to recede. He watched the torn organs within her body began to meld, until the skin sealed back together, interrupted his view. With some of her strength renewed, Jenise raised her arms up and grabbed onto Malia's arm.

When Raziel expected Jenise's blood lust to get the better of her, she suddenly pulled Malia's arm away. The sorceress wrapped her arm once again in the cloth of her robes. She intently looked down at the priestess, confirming that she would be fine. Raziel stared at Jenise in shock. Realization suddenly hit him. Jenise just drank Malia's blood! Before he could demand answers from the priestess, Jenise's eyes slumped closed once again, this time slumber taking her.

"We must take her someplace safe so she can rest," Malia instructed Raziel. "Follow me."

Malia rose to her feet. Raziel followed suit, holding Jenise beneath the small of her back and behind her knees. Malia crept past the iron gate and further down the corridor to what seemed like a dead end. When she reached the end, she ran her hand across the stone, until she found the spot she was searching for. Malia pushed in on the stone, which turned out to be a small push plate in a large slab of granite. As she did so, the slab of granite receded into the wall and then slid to the left.

"Come, this way," she called to Raziel. He followed Malia into the secret passage. As the door slid back into place, Malia formed a small ball of fire in the palm of her hand for which to see with.

"This passage leads straight to the sorceress's chambers," informed Malia. "I will take you to my bedchamber, where Jenise can rest until her strength is restored."

They walked carefully through the dark corridor until they came to the end of the passage. Malia pulled a lever, causing the passage to open. The ball of fire diminished within Malia's palm as she entered the larger corridor of the sorcery wing. She scanned the area quickly before nodding the `all clear' to Raziel. The trio quickly strode down the corridor. Malia led Raziel to the third doorway on the right and entered the room.

Raziel eyed the small chamber. The only furnishings were a bed, a bookshelf with various books on sorcery, a wooden table with a candle at its center, two wooden chairs, and a cabinet. The reaver of souls placed the priestess on the bed.

"Unfortunately, I cannot stay," Malia broke the silence, as she removed Jenise's shield and armor for her comfort. She placed the items on the table. "I was due for training when I heard the news of your arrival. You can stay here. No one will bother coming in my bedchamber. I won't be back until later this evening. When I return, I will help you get out of the stronghold."

Raziel nodded. Malia exited her bedchamber. Raziel took a seat at the table where he could keep an eye on Jenise. As soon as she woke, he was hell bent on getting the truth from her.