Fire of Magic (Soul of Magic Book 4)

THIRTEEN

Morgan couldn't put an exact word to the feeling that raged through him at the sight of the revelation before him; everything entangling within him so much that it almost felt unreal.

On the primary side, the pale-blonde boy was shocked that the Knight, the swordsman whom he had grown to love and begun to see like a mentor, was actually a woman; and the Soul of magic for that matter. But what a deeper part of him felt was anger. Anger that a witch could have come and deceived all of them like that; using their plight to manipulate them for whatever mysterious and unfathomable reason she had.

Truth be told, the Soul of magic was no stranger to the Barren lands even though none of the inhabitants had ever truly met her; at least not until that moment. But the tale of the ferocious powerful witch whom the Kingdoms had added to their long list of weapons to subdue the Barren landers wasn’t something anyone could miss.

However, as Morgan looked at the woman lying in the snow with a sword at her neck, he couldn't reconcile the nightmarish witch he'd heard of with the person he now saw. Sure, she had insane need to survive look in her eyes, but it wasn’t in a monsterlike sort of way; in fact, everyone in the Barren lands had that look in their eyes. It was normal.  But if he didn't know better, he would have said that she was also scared for her life, which made no sense. The Soul of magic could never be afraid of anything, not if she really was whom they said that she was.

The Cobra raised the sword to finish what he had started; but no sooner had he done so that an arrow suddenly came flying out of nowhere and knocked the weapon right out of his hands.

It was Freya and she already had another arrow nocked and ready to fly. “Step away from her,” she said; and meant every world.

"What are you doing, girl?" asked the Cobra, surprised.

"I said stand down," the pale-blonde archer replied, pulling her bow tauter even as she walked closer. "If this witch is really who you say she is, I can't let you kill her."

"Are you insane?" he shouted at her. "She’s the Soul of magic for the Creator’s sake, our enemy. She destroyed the warlord of Begermen and all of the innocent souls in that town!" Although the Cobra's intention for bringing up the point couldn’t be deciphered nor trusted, Freya had to admit that the tragedy of Begermen was a sore spot for the Barren lands; and even the realm at large.

Two years ago, the settlement of Begermen was one of the most prosperous in the Barren lands, an envy of every other settlement in the region. But that changed when its warlord, Tristan, supposedly massacred a group of wizards apparently very dear to the Soul of magic.

No one knew exactly how it happened but one day they all woke up to the sudden disappearance of both the warlord and his settlement; wiped away even to the least of its occupants as if they had never existed to begin with. And it was all the work of the one they called the Soul of magic.

"It's because of those souls that I, someone who actually cares about them and not the money that some warlord is willing to pay me, need to be the one to end her," said Freya. "So, Cobra, if you want to kill her, you'll have to go through me first."

"Freya, think about what you're doing," Morgan said to her in an attempt to dissipate whatever crazy idea was in his sister’s head, "this is the Cobra you're going up against. It won't end well, least of all for you."

"You told me that this quest is for something important, Morgan," she returned at him. "I believe now that this is it. So, brother, are you with me or not?"

It was hard to determine if it was the passion in Freya’s words that won Morgan over or just the fact that she was family but the pale-blonde boy immediately nodded affirmative and came to stand by the pale-blonde archer; his battle axes ready against the man who would take away the revenge they believed was meant for the dead of the Barren lands.

"So, you two really think that you can stop me?" the Cobra smiled that predatory smile of his and shrugged. "Well, it's your funeral."

With a battle cry, he removed two daggers from his belt and rushed at his incoming opponents; Freya unleashing arrow after arrow at him as she came too but the latter expertly deflecting each and every one of them away.

Just as they reached one another, the Cobra lunged at Freya with one of his daggers but she quickly parried the strike with her bow; ducking just as he swung at her head with his second dagger in a follow-up strike. She hit him in the chest with her bow, causing him to stagger backwards as he got a little winded. But even in his somewhat weakened state, he was still able to jump out of the way when she released another of her arrows at him.

Morgan took over at that point, jumping in with his axes poised for the kill. The Cobra spotted the attack too and deflected the blow away with his daggers, sidestepping the pale-blonde boy as he came again and creating an opportunity for himself to strike back.

Just as the assassin was about to take what he had perceived was an opportunity, a dagger suddenly came flying out of nowhere and embedded itself in his shoulder, causing him to stagger away as he screamed in a mixture of pain and surprise.

"Leave them alone," Kyra said as she stepped between the Cobra and the twins; she was the one who had thrown the dagger. Picking her sword from where it laid in the snow, she said to him, "You were sent here to kill me, weren't you? I think it's about time you got back to doing just that."

The Cobra let out a roar like that of a beast in rage; and he really was angry. Since the moment that he had come face to face with the trio, they had pissed him severely off; taking away his victory twice just as he was about to grasp it. "Alright, you all want to die?" he shouted at them, roughly pulling out the dagger in his shoulder even though he knew that it demanded gentleness. "Let me help you with it then." He rushed at his opponents with the ferocity of a monster and the latter needing no second invitation returned the favour.

The clash became intense, everyone giving as much as they took; and the Cobra showed them all why he had been able to maintain his reputation as the most dangerous killing weapon in the region for such a long time.

Just as the assassin shot into the air with his dagger pointed at Kyra, a powerful gust of wind suddenly came out of nowhere and knocked him into a tree; icicles immediately shooting out of the ground to impale him there before he could even orient himself to what was happening.

Kyra and the twins watched as the Cobra finally breathe his last, confusion and surprise at what had just happened on their faces as they turned to where the wind had originated from and standing there was a familiar woman with brown hair and blue eyes.

"Isidora!" Kyra realized with a gasp who it was that stood before her.

"Hello, Kyra," replied the dark witch, "it's been a really long time."