The Beast Within

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Why was he thinking about killing? The non-Mage had not done anything to them… yet.

Ceraun could sense it for some reason, all this was not going to end particularly well.

"We were not hiding, merely seeking shelter from the sun and watching the river flow." He explained respectfully.

He would not have done that before, instead, he would have lunged at the soldier although he had next to no chance of winning.

A long time ago, when he once thought that non-Mages were evil creatures who deserved no less than death, he still thought that way...

He had just been forced to come face to face with his own weakness.

Morton stepped forward, leather armor crackling, his shaved head gleaming in the sunlight. "Sounds like a falsehood, you use your powers, do you not?" He leered viciously down at them, a hand patting his sheathed weapon.

Ceraun and Adrik scrambled to backwards at this, eyeing the huge man warily, they could not fathom what he could possibly want with them.

It was obvious that he did not believe that they were actually practicing magic or he would have been more wary, more cautious.

"We do not." Ceraun argued calmly and Adrik glanced worriedly at the other Mage.

There was a time Ceraun would charge blindly and another time he would not have done anything at all, at least then Adrik knew what to expect.

Right now, he had no idea what to expect, he could in no way tell of what Ceraun would do.

"I have not the time to argue with you." Morton muttered, looking smug and at the same time hesitant.

It was not because he was scared of killing children or being caught, those two did not bother him in the least bit because firstly, these two were not children, they were practitioners of the dark arts, children of the darkness.

Secondly, the rest of the soldiers charged to watch over the Mages, including the Ration Master and their superiors would not give a hoot if a couple Mage children turned up dead, they would prefer it actually.

No, what actually terrified him was the evil lurking in their souls, he had to rid the world of their wasteful existence.

It would be a fairly easy job, disposing of the scrawny misfits.

Digging a grave, no matter how shallow it be would be an impossibility so he would tie rocks to their lifeless bodies and drown them in the river, it would be a flawless execution.

Ceraun backed away on instinct, something in the demeanor of the non-Mage had made him extra wary.

And he had come to a decision…

If a non-Mage so much as made themselves a threat to the people he cared about or a Mage, he would not hesitate to snuff their lives out if he could.

Morton unsheathed his weapon at this moment and Ceraun jumped away, Adrik grabbing his wrist.

"Run! Feyrer!"

Ceraun did not need much more encouragement, they parted in opposite directions, there was no way they could hold their ground against a non-Mage soldier who was easily twice their sizes and wielded his sword like it was an extension of his arm.

It was no surprise when the soldier followed after Ceraun, for some incredibly insane reason, he was obsessed with killing Ceraun.

Ceraun was fast on his feet, his nimble steps taking him through the rocky terrain at a speed that the non-Mage soldier could not keep up with.

Ceraun turned behind him to look at the same moment that Adrik was making plans to come help him out.

Morton's sharp eyes tracked the evil scums he had come to rid the world of, if they had not been practicing magic, then they were most definitely doing physical training.

Because their scrawny bodies hid so much more strength than he had bargained for but he did not let that deter him.

He reached for his belt to snag his dagger, aiming straight for the other dark haired one, who thought he was moving discreetly but had no idea that Morton could clearly see him.

He looked like he was trying to pass information to the scarred one, perhaps they hoped to escape by jumping into the water, the pathetic spy they used did mention something about them coming from a fishing village.

They had evidently come deep from the mires.

That would not happen, Morton decided, hiding his trusty dagger in the cover of his left hand.

He had always had a right proper aim, on both of his hands, there was no way he could miss.

He threw out his hand and he could almost swear he could see the other's eyes widen in realization, although they were too far apart for him to pick out the scum's facial expression.

A blood curdling yell let loose from the devil's spawn he had been after when blood bloomed on the dark haired scum's middle.

He toppled over, going backwards to the ground.

The hackles on Morton's body rose as he dragged his attention from the rather satisfying death of the scum, the world was rid of one more dark soul.

He reached upwards to clutch the good luck charm his wife had made for him which was thrown around his neck under his uniform, it was for protection.

When he laid his eyes on the scarred devil's spawn, his eyes nearly popped out of his skull, his hands desperately grabbing his good luck charm.

Ceraun was in a bubble of rage, his eyes were as black as midnight, yet, his entire body glowed from the crackling of electricity flashing all over him.

He had only ever tried to dispel lightning from his hands before but yet, here he was, easily standing in a lightning storm, his long hair waving wildly in a non-existent wind.

He took a slow step forward, the non-Mage soldier seeming frozen in horror as he stared on in coalescing horror and terror.

Frantically, he yanked off the good luck charm around his neck, waving it around like it was supposed to send Ceraun off running.

Ceraun scoffed, hatred tinting his voice and blood an unsightly black.

He had so much to say to the cruel soldier but the thought of Adrik dying, all because of him, just like Dew had was making his words clot in his throat, his eyes watering at the discomfort.

He noticed when the soldier tried to get away and then he moved.

In a split second, he was right beside the non-Mage soldier, leaping in the air so that this put them eye to eye.

The last thing Morton saw was fathomless black pits, all the blood draining out of his face... then all went dark.

Ceraun had jabbed so fast, the lightning crackling around his arm giving him enough force and speed to drive his hand through the non-Mage's middle just as he had done to Adrik.

He left his hand in till he saw the light start to go out of the soldier's eyes, they were on the ground now.

Ceraun was still coated in his lightning storm, Morton getting charred an unsightly black the longer Ceraun remained in physical contact with him.

Strangely he did not feel anything as he watched the non-Mage die under him, an icy storm swirling in the pit of his stomach which raged on even when he dislodged his bloody arm and sat back.

The non-Mage soldier was dead, he wished he could have savored the kill, ripped the cruel non-Mage limb from limb but he had no control over his actions and now, he was dead…

Just like Adrik…

Adrik! He immediately remembered his friend, hurrying to his feet.

Something was wrong, he realized as soon as he got up.

His vision was rapidly narrowing, his legs feeling like marshy earth but he could not be weak now, he needed to go check on Adrik.

Adrik, who was probably bleeding out on the rocky ground…

With the last vestiges of his strength, he lurched in Adrik's direction.

His legs crumbled under him at this but he was not deterred, crawling over the jagged ground, putting one bloody and gut coated arm in front of the other reasonably clean arm.

Adrik needed him!

He could not make the same terrible mistake twice.

But his body had other ideas, thoroughly sapped of his energy, he only moved a couple slow paces before he collapsed in a dead faint.