The cloaked figure seized Raghav's face, his gloved thumb and fingers digging into his cheeks. Raghav's eyes widened, a choked sound escaping his throat, but he didn't struggle—couldn't. I wanted to help, to lunge forward and tear that hand away, but my body betrayed me. My legs felt like stone, my arms hung limp, useless. It wasn't just fear—it was as if an invisible chain had locked me in place, paralyzing every muscle. I stared at the figure, my mind racing. Did he wield some kind of mana, a spell to bind us like this?
Then his head snapped toward me.
His gaze didn't just meet mine—it pierced through, sharp and cold, like a blade sliding into my soul. My breath hitched, my chest tightening as if he'd reached inside and squeezed. "It isn't some mana skill, mi'vida," he said, his voice low and smooth, laced with a mocking edge. "That would be an insult to my name—wasting such power on the likes of you. No, this?" He tilted his head, a faint smirk curling beneath the shadow of his hood. "This is fear. Plain and simple."
The words hit like a punch, hollowing me out. My knees trembled, and a cold sweat prickled down my spine. Fear? Just fear? It felt alive, a beast clawing at my insides, and I hated how right he was.
A sharp twang cut the air. The figure's hand flicked upward, almost lazily, and his fingers caught a glinting shuriken mid-flight, its edge inches from his face. He didn't flinch. "Overcoming fear with pain," he mused, turning the weapon between his fingers as if inspecting a trinket. "That's worth a few points in my book, dear."
My eyes darted to Sister Rajni. She stood a few paces away, barely upright, her leg gashed and oozing red. Blood streaked the dirt beneath her, and her staff trembled in her grip as she leaned on it for support. Her face was a mask of defiance, but her breaths came in ragged gasps—she'd thrown that shuriken, I realized, a desperate act of will against the terror pinning us all.
The figure stepped toward her, his movements fluid, unhurried. "But," he continued, his tone dipping into disappointment, "the fact that even such pain only frees your arms and a single leg? That's… underwhelming." He stopped just out of her reach, twirling the shuriken once more before letting it drop to the ground with a soft clink. "I expected more."
Rajni's jaw tightened, her knuckles whitening around her staff, but she didn't speak. She couldn't. None of us could. The air itself seemed to press down, heavy with his presence.
Rajni's blood dripped onto the dirt, her wounded leg trembling, but her eyes burned with defiance. She planted her staff into the ground, steadying herself, and blue mana sparked along her fingers, coiling up the wood like a living flame. "For Yasmin," she growled, her voice raw and unyielding. The air around her hummed, charged with power.
The hooded figure stood loose, hands at his sides, his cloak barely stirring in the still air. "For Yasmin?" he echoed, a mocking lilt in his tone. "How noble. Go on, then—make it worth my time." He raised one gloved hand, beckoning her forward, his posture daring her to strike.
Fear shackled me to the earth, my body rigid, my lungs straining against an invisible vise. Beside me, Raghav dangled in the figure's grip—his cheeks crushed between gloved fingers, his legs kicking feebly, muffled snarls leaking from his twisted mouth. Vanshika crouched nearby, her hands clamped over her lips, tears carving tracks through the grime on her face. We were prisoners of his truth: Fear.
Rajni erupted forward, her staff a lance of blue fire as mana roared through it. She drove it at his chest, the tip a molten star, searing the air with a shrieking hiss. He tilted Raghav aside, letting the strike tear a jagged slash across his cloak, then hurled Raghav at me with a flick of his wrist—a discarded pawn. Raghav slammed into me, his shoulder crashing against my sternum, and we crumpled into the dirt, a chaotic sprawl of pain and dust. My breath fled, ribs screaming. "Raghav—damn it!" I choked, shoving him aside. He rolled to his knees, eyes blazing, but the terror still bound us.
Rajni whirled, her staff slashing low in a crescent of crackling mana, a storm of light aimed to shear his legs. He vaulted over it, a phantom's grace in his leap, and brushed the wood with a fingertip as it swung beneath him—a feather-light touch that sent her reeling, her balance fraying like a snapped thread.
"Slow," he purred, his voice a velvet blade.
Her jaw clenched, teeth grinding. She thrust her staff into the earth, and mana detonated—geysers of blue light and shattered stone surged upward, a forest of jagged spires clawing for his flesh. He danced through them, a shadow in a tempest, his body twisting and bending with inhuman precision. A spire grazed his cloak, shredding fabric; he spun midair, letting it crumble, and landed in a crouch, dust swirling around his boots like a crown.
Rajni abandoned her staff, slamming her palms together. A shockwave of mana erupted, a tidal wave of azure fury that gouged the ground and lashed the air with a deafening roar. I ducked, hair whipping across my eyes, but he stood unshaken—his cloak flared like wings, the force parting around him as if he were a blade cleaving water. He flicked a speck of debris from his glove, his head tilting. "Loud," he said. "But hollow."
She charged, fists ablaze with mana, twin suns of blue fire igniting the dusk. Her punches flew—left jab to his ribs, right cross to his jaw, an uppercut trailing light like a comet's wake. He flowed around them, a specter of motion, his hands dangling loose as he weaved and ducked, each dodge a hair's breadth from disaster. A glowing fist skimmed his hood; he arched back, the mana sizzling past, and stepped into her guard, his shadow swallowing hers.
"Faster," he whispered, his breath a chill against her ear.
Rajni bellowed, pivoting into a mana-charged kick—her good leg lashed out, a scythe of blue flame slicing the air. He caught it on his forearm, the collision booming like thunder, a shockwave rippling outward that flattened the grass. He didn't flinch, his stance an iron pillar, and she sprang back, fists flaring anew. She unleashed a barrage—mana bolts streaked from her strikes, a hail of glowing darts that stitched the night with light. He parried with one hand, fingers flicking like a maestro's, redirecting each blow with a dancer's ease, his body a blur of taunting grace.
"You're fraying," he said, his voice slicing through her gasps. He snatched her glowing fist mid-flight, crushing it until the mana sputtered out. She snarled, swinging her other arm in a wild arc of blue fire. He caught that too, twisting both wrists with a surgeon's precision, forcing her to her knees as her wounded leg buckled, a cry tearing from her throat.
Raghav pounded the dirt beside me, his voice raw. "Let her go!" The figure didn't spare him a glance, his eyes locked on Rajni as she heaved for breath, sweat glistening on her brow. She ripped one hand free, thrusting it forward—a beam of mana blazed forth, a spear of light that scorched the earth toward him. He sidestepped, a liquid twist of his torso, and the beam carved a molten scar into the ground, embers raining behind him.
"Predictable," he said, his tone a sigh. She surged up, slamming both fists into the dirt. Mana pulsed outward, the ground fracturing in a spiderweb of glowing cracks that lunged for him, jagged and alive. He vaulted over them, a soaring arc of effortless poise, landing as the fissures snapped shut, his cloak settling like a shroud.
Rajni staggered to her feet, her glow dimming, and thrust her palms forward—a maelstrom of blue flames roared at him, a wall of heat that warped the air into shimmering waves. He strode through it, boots silent, his cloak billowing but uncharred, the fire parting around him like a river around stone. No mana, no light—just him, an untouchable wraith. He emerged a breath from her, seizing her glowing wrist as she swung.
"Done?" he asked, his voice a soft taunt.
Her eyes blazed, feral and unbowed. She tore a shuriken from her sleeve, mana crackling along its edge, and hurled it at his chest—a streak of death in the twilight. He plucked it from the air, fingers snapping shut an inch from his heart, and spun it back with a flick. It buried into her shoulder, a wet crunch as blood bloomed through her robe. She staggered, clutching the wound, her breath hitching.
"Rajni!" I screamed, my voice a broken shard. The fear splintered, but my body stayed locked—useless, shaking.
She swayed, mana flickering in her good hand, and lunged—a glowing fist rocketed toward his face, her last ember of defiance. He sidestepped, a phantom's drift, and caught her arm mid-strike. "Enough," he said, his tone cold, final. He released her wrist, letting her stumble forward, off-balance.
Then he struck.
His arm lashed out, a blur of lethal intent, and plunged through her guts—flesh and bone parting with a sickening rip. Blood sprayed, hot and dark, splattering the dirt as his hand burst out her back, gloved fingers dripping crimson. Rajni's eyes widened, a gasp choking in her throat, her body impaled on his arm like a broken doll. Mana flickered once along her frame, a dying spark, then snuffed out.
"No!" I roared, the sound tearing from my core, but my limbs wouldn't obey—damn it, move! Raghav lunged beside me, a wordless howl, but fell short, collapsing into the dirt. Vanshika's scream pierced the air, raw and shattering.
The figure held Rajni there, suspended, her blood pooling beneath her dangling feet. "You fought well," he murmured, almost tender, then yanked his arm free. She crumpled beside Yasmin's body, a lifeless heap, her eyes staring blankly at the sky, crimson soaking the earth around her.
He turned to us—Raghav, clawing the ground beside me, Vanshika sobbing into her hands. His gaze lingered on Raghav, a faint nod. "Potential," he said, low and deliberate, then flicked his eyes to me and Vanshika. "You know what, I was sent here to eliminate the trash, but thanks to this little friend of yours, I am leaving." He stepped back, shaking blood from his glove, and the air rippled—not mana, just him—and he vanished into the dusk.
The fear broke, a dam bursting. I collapsed forward, retching, hands sinking into the blood-soaked dirt. Raghav crawled to Rajni, shaking her still form. "Sister—no, no, get up!" he begged, his voice cracking. Vanshika's wails filled the silence, a keening that clawed at my skull. I stared at Rajni's body, at the hole where her life had been, my mind a storm of horror and rage. She'd burned like a star—mana, fury, everything—and he'd snuffed her out like a candle.