He stared down at the man with cold, unfeeling eyes, twisting the sword slowly—playfully—to deepen the pain.
The man gasped for air, gurgling with every breath—his lungs punctured. He could do nothing but twitch on the ground in the blood pooled from all the other dead fellows.
The boy suddenly stopped. He held the hilt of the sword with one hand and waved his other hand over it.
"Eclipsed binding"
Several thin strings shot up into the air from the sword. They were black and invisible to the untrained eye.
The boy only had his eyes on the man and didn't even bat an eye as the strings shot downwards toward the man. They entered through his open chest, and unbearable pain started to spread through him.
His body immediately received energy, and he started thrashing on the floor, screaming in pain.
"Stop it! Please! Make it stooop!" He desperately begged.
His shouts and screams were unheard by the boy, who only stared at him with emotionless eyes. Not long after, his legs had turned into blood, and his waist was slowly being torn apart into very tiny molecular pieces.
The strings made their way slowl, and painfully to his torso, tearing him viciously into very minute parts that only looked like blood.
They entered his head and his vision was now becoming crossed by a black net formed from the strings. His vision was now gone, and the strings now spread into his mouth, tearing at his tongue.
His voice was abruptly cut off, and his body became consumed.
The boy pulled out his sword, which dispersed into a dark mist that sank into his hand. He turned around just in time to see the girl waking up.
She opened her eyes—and the first thing she saw was a corpse. Its face twisted into a grotesque mask of fear, confusion, and shock.
She screamed, the sound tearing from her throat, raw and desperate. Her breath hitched as she pushed herself up, her body shuddering with each movement as thick, sticky blood pooled around her. The metallic scent was suffocating. The sight of the bloodied, twisted corpses made her gasp for air, unable to breathe through the rising tide of terror.
She couldn't stop her screams; they erupted from deep within her, guttural and frantic, as she scrambled away. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest, and her hands shook as they clawed desperately at the floor beneath her, as if she could escape the blood-soaked nightmare.
The boy appeared in her vision, looking at her calmly- the same eyes he had looked at those men before killing them.
He picked something from the floor and examined it, wiping the blood from it. He studied it afor while before his eyes landed on her again, and he started to walk towards her.
Tears streaked down her face, mixing with the grime and blood as she continued to shriek, her voice trembling with fear.
"Stay back! Please! Go away!" she screamed, her words breaking off into sobs as the boy approached her with cold, emotionless eyes.
Her breath caught in her throat as her body trembled violently, and her vision blurred with more than just tears. She felt dizzy, weak, and utterly helpless as he closed the distance between them.
Her heart raced faster, fear coiling tight in her chest, suffocating her. "No, please…" she begged, but her words were swallowed by her panicked gasps. She had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.
His figure suddenly shot toward her at an alarming speed, and she screamed, knowing that was her end. She heard herself gasp loudly when he got close enough, but she didn't feel the pain she expected, or the unconsciousness either.
The boy only held her tightly in an embrace. Mind blank with panic, she struggled and screamed in his arms, trying to break free. He just held her tightly and didn't move. After some time, she heard an all too familiar voice in her ear.
"It's okay, I'm here. I'm sorry for not getting here in time." He held her tightly as he spoke in her ear.
"They're gone now. You're safe."
She struggled a bit before calming down and gulping as she found her voice.
"A-Aramith?" Her voice came out weak, filled with fear. The boy moved his head from her ear to face her, a sweet, soothing smile on his delicate, pale face.
"I'm here."
"Oh, Aramith!" She threw her arms around him, sobbing uncontrollably.
"I was scared! I thought I was going to die!" she cried loudly now, tears flowing down endlessly as he spoke reassuring words to her to calm her down. She was being calmed by him, but she was unaware of how heavy he felt in his heart.
I killed them. I ended their lives. The weight of it pressed down on him. Sorrow gnawed at his insides. They could have had families. Some could have children, but he killed them. He felt like crying like she was, but that would only make her feel worse.
At the moment, calming her down was the priority.
After she had finally calmed down, he drew back his face, and carefully moved her damp hair from her face. His heart was troubled as he looked at the reddened, and swollen half of her face, the part the man had slapped. he tried to touch it, but she winced .
He studied her face carefully and pulled out a small pouch from within his robe. From it, he pulled out a white pill.
"Eat this. It will help you." She took the pill without hesitation. Within seconds, the pain began to fade. He then looked at her arm which the man had gripped.
It wasn't serious, but the sight of such marks on her skin made him feel incompetent for not reaching her in time. He took another pill for her to swallow. She tightened her jaw against the burning sensation as the medicine took effect.
"How do you feel now?" he asked her.
"Good," she nodded, and got up to her feet, but staggered forward to be caught by him.
"You're still weak. You lost a lot of energy," he said, knowing clearly that she was in that state mostly because of their gory surroundings. She was weak and hated blood, so he found it surprising that she hadn't passed out from the blood, or fear. Maybe the fear was what was keeping her awake and conscious.
"We should leave this place." She only nodded in response.
"Come on, I'll carry you. We can leave faster that way." she shook her head. "No, I can still walk. "
"Don't be stubborn. You know you're weak."
" No, I can do i,." she smiled innocently at him, pushed herself carefully from him, and tried to walk again, but her legs gave in. He caught her.
"You can't do it. Let me carry you," she bit down on her lip and glanced at him, partly ashamed
"Don't worry, I'll be fine. I can carry you easily." She then nodded and he helped her get onto his back. He started to walk slowly from the place.
"I'm sorry for not getting here earlier, really sorry but it won't happen again. I promise. No one is ever going to hurt you again. No matter what, I'll protect you," he said in a whisper that only the two of them could hear.
"It's not your fault, Aramith. It would not have happened if I had run faster. I was weak, and I made you kill them." She was crying again, and he could feel the tears falling down the side of his neck.
Why do you have to blame yourself when I killed them? I'm the murderer here, a dirty creature that everyone wants to get rid of. He thought.
"Don't blame yourself for anything that happened, and don't think about it. We will be safe."
From a different roof, a man stood. His eyes were locked on the two children that made their way through the night.
"He killed them all. Quite impressive for a child," he said with a menacing look in his eyes.
"Things have been laid out as you planned, master," a voice came from behind. He didn't turn to look at the kneeling figures behind him as he responded.
"Give them five minutes before you proceed. The others failed as I planned. Guess it's time to create more fun."
"Ye-Yes, sir." He was left alone.
"A child, but you have truly entertained me." He chuckled and left the roof.
He felt the weight of her, warm and fragile, as rain began to patter around them. He lifted his head, blinking through the misty drizzle, and saw not the stone walls of the castle but a distant, storm-dark sky. A single raindrop slid down his cheek.
"Aramith…" she whispered, voice trembling.
"Mm?" he murmured, reaching to tuck a strand of wet hair behind her ear.
She repeated his name, softer this time, almost a sigh: "Aramith…"
He leaned closer—only to feel the world shift. The rain and cold stone dissolved beneath him, replaced by silken sheets and something light thudding against his face.
"Aramith! Wake up, you—aah!"
He bolted upright, heart hammering, and banged his head against the carved bedpost. Dazed, he found himself under a mountain of pillows, a small body squirming atop him.
"You cruel…!" the familiar, indignant voice squeaked.
He yanked the covers over his head, but a second attack of feathered fury sent him tumbling off the bed onto the marble floor.
"You're so mean! You meanie!" came the triumphant squeak.
He lay still for a moment on the cool marble floor, realizing the rain was nothing but a dream, and that this room, and this battle of pillows, was reality.
To think this nightmare would return… but my sister was already caught in a storm of her own—one I had to weather. Why couldn't she bother someone else?