The wave of starlight hit silently. It was bright and scary, like the sky itself was attacking.
Seraphina froze. She tried to grab her pendant but her hands refused to move.
'This is it,' she thought, a tear running down her dirty cheek. 'This is how I die.'
Azrael watched everything from across the clearing. He was on his knees hurt and broken, keeping himself up only with willpower. The wave of light couldn't be stopped. Seraphina was frozen in fear.
He couldn't reach her. He was too far, too slow, too weak.
'The hero should save her,' he thought bitterly. He looked at Kaelen. The hero stood frozen, face full of shock, watching the woman he loved about to be destroyed. He was useless.
'The story is broken,' Azrael realized. 'If I don't act, she'll really die.'
He couldn't stop the attack or make a shield. But he wasn't a hero. He was a survivor. He didn't think about strength he thought about tricks.
He could not move the wave. But maybe… maybe he could move the target.
His hands, lying limp in the dirt, shot forward. His fingers moved quickly, almost like a blur.
Thin, silver threads shot out from his fingertips. They were almost invisible in the firelight and the falling stars.They flew across the hundred yards of scorched earth in a fraction of a second.
They did not wrap around her. That would be too slow. They attached to the back of her uniform, hooking into the thick fabric like tiny, sharp claws.
He had one chance. One single, desperate pull. For more chapters visit NoveI★Fire.net
He gritted his teeth, ignoring the burning pain in his arms and shoulders. He put all his will, all his Aether, everything he had into one motion.
Just as the wave of light was about to hit her, Seraphina was yanked back like an invisible hand had grabbed her.
Her feet were lifted off the ground. She was thrown through the air, a clumsy, spinning doll, and landed in a heap ten feet away from where she had been standing.
The wave of cosmic energy hit the spot where she had been.
There was no sound. There was no explosion. The ground just… disappeared.
A perfect, ten-foot-wide circle of ground was gone, leaving a smooth, black crater that smoked with cold energy.
The clearing went quiet. The fires around them seemed weaker. Everyone stared at the crater, then at Seraphina, who was lying on the ground, alive and breathing, and finally at Azrael, on his hands and knees, his arms shaking from the effort.
Seraphina pushed herself up. Her amber eyes were wide with confusion. She looked at the crater, at her hands, and then at the boy who had just saved her, the boy she hated more than anyone.
Elvara's power did not fade. The hole in the sky was still there. The starlight still poured into her, a river of cosmic rage. She had missed her target.
Her head slowly turned from the crater. Her glowing white eyes, empty and cold scanned the battlefield. They passed over Kaelen. They passed over Selvara.
And then they stopped. They locked onto Azrael.
The deep unconscious hatred that had been planted in her by the original Azrael, the hatred of a slave for her cruel master finally found its target. The power that had been aimed at Seraphina now had a new direction.
"You," the voice that was not Elvara's whispered. It was a sound full of a cold and ancient anger.
The floating stars that had been circling her head shot towards Azrael. They were not a wave this time. They were bullets. Tiny, fast, deadly bullets of pure light.
Azrael didn't have time to think. He rolled to the side as the starlight bullets hit the ground, making smalland smoking holes.
He got up quickly. He was back in the fight.
'The hero is useless,' he thought, his mind racing as he dodged another volley of starlight. 'In the novel, he uses some kind of emotional connection to bring her back. But that connection hasn't been formed yet. He can't stop her.'
Elvara floated toward him, moving slowly and gracefully like a goddess of death. Her hatred was so strong it felt like it was pressing on him.
She raised her hand and a beam of pure white energy shot out.
Azrael threw up his arms to protect himself. He had no sword. He had no shield. He only had his threads.
He created a thick, messy net of silver threads in front of him. It was a weak, pathetic defense.
The beam of light hit the net, and the threads burned away in an instant. But they had done their job. They had slowed the beam down, just for a fraction of a second.
The weaker beam hit him in the chest.
The pain was awful. His chest burned, and his uniform smoked.
He was thrown back and hit a tree, falling hard to the ground.
He forced himself to stand, his body aching and sore.. He was bleeding. He was burned. He was broken. But he was alive.
He stood, swaying on his feet, and looked at the floating goddess of rage. She was preparing another attack, a bigger one this time.
He knew he could not dodge it. He could not block it. He could not survive it.
But he had to stop her. Not just to save himself. To save her. This power was tearing her apart from the inside. If she kept using it, it would destroy her.
He did the last thing anyone expected. The last thing a sane person would do.
He stopped defending. He let his hands fall to his sides. And he started walking towards her.
Each step hurt like crazy. His legs felt heavy, his chest burned. But he kept moving.
"What is he doing?!" Kaelen yelled from the other side of the clearing. "He's going to get himself killed!"
Selvara watched, her ice-blue eyes wide with a strange, new emotion. She had seen him fight with will. But this was something else. This was not a fight. This was a sacrifice.
Elvara or the thing that was controlling her, seemed confused by his actions. He was not fighting back.
He kept moving his face full of pain and determination.
She fired another beam of light and weaker this time. It hit his shoulder, spun him around and dropped him to his knees. He shouted in pain.
Still, he got back up and kept going.
He was only a few feet away now. Her power was wild and dangerous making the hairs on his arms stand up.
He closed the final distance.
He stood right in front of her, so close he could see her real eyes behind the white light.
He didn't raise his hands to fight. He raised them to hold her.
He wrapped his broken, bleeding arms around her. The energy around her burned his skin, but he didn't let go.
He held her tight, his head close to hers. He could feel her trembling, or maybe it was him trembling.
Then he whispered in her ear, his voice low, cracked and full of pain.
"I know you are in there, Elvara," he whispered. "And I know you are scared."
He felt her power flare, trying to push him away, to burn him away. But he held on tighter.
"They were wrong," he said, his voice a little stronger now. "You were never weak. You were never a burden. You're the strongest person I've ever met."
He pulled back a little and looked into her glowing eyes.
"That man…the one who hurt you…he's dead," he said, his own eyes burning with a dark and quiet fire. "I made sure of it. He is gone. He can never hurt you again."
He hugged her again, his voice low and gentle.
"You are not his slave anymore. You are not your father's pawn. You are free, Elvara. Your life is your own. So come back. Come back and live it."
For a moment, nothing happened. The power around her still raged.
Then, a single, perfect tear fell from one of her glowing white eyes. It traced a path down her cheek.
The blinding light in her eyes began to fade. The hole in the sky began to close. The floating stars disappeared.
The girl in his arms was just Elvara again.
She was pale and shaking, her body weak. Her green eyes looked at him, full of confusion and sadness.
Then she collapsed into his arms, unconscious.
Azrael held her for a moment. The clearing was silent. His own strength gave out.
He sank to his knees, still holding her. The world went dark and blurry. The last thing he saw was the shocked faces of everyone watching.