Grazing The Sky

In reality, it should have been quicker, faster than Lance could blink. But it wasn't; the beginning was slowed just slightly, allowing him a moment's view of how the skin of her forehead began to rip open. Then the object slammed through, finishing its impact, the long icicle-like point sticking out from the center of her forehead. Blood arrived as she fell, spraying out in a line. Lance heard the wet impact, seeing in his mind's eye the splatter of red across Zidane's face.

Kyrene landed on her knees. The wind chime bowed with her head as it lowered, the tip nearly touching Zidane's nose. As if he were imagining it, Lance saw everything from Zidane's eyes. The piece of the chime unfocused due to the proximity to his face, its color nothing but red with tiny chunks of a darker color. Her eyes a glassy, reflective gold, looking ahead to the floor and seeing nothing. And then her mouth moved, brief twitches forming the start of a name she had spoken so lovingly.

Nachi.

Her muscles gave, and from the corner of his own eyes Lance watched as she fell. Hitting the floor and leaving him to continue staring straight ahead, where she had been standing, smiling, just a few seconds ago. Lance focused as much as he could on the man in front of them, feeling a quiet but urgent suffocation in his c.h.e.s.t.

The Spiro's arm lowered, the action intentionally slow. Controlled and confident. His eyes were bright, seeming nearly pale against the moonlight. He let out a rough cackle, the laugh telling Lance all he needed to know. This hunt was over.

Silver flashed against the light, bringing Lance's stare to the dagger in his hand. Its blade was long; deep jagged running along its hooked shape. Most of the weapon was soaked in blood, but what the red hadn't reached, the moonlight flickered off of as he started moving. Walking, stalking towards his prey despite the blood soaking through the clothes covering his legs and torso.

Zidane shifted back, foot skittering against the floor, shaking terribly. Lance could tell he wasn't breathing anymore; like his thoughts, his breath had lost itself somewhere in the fear.

Finally, an inhale came. Something small and rough; a noise that was almost a sob. Seeing from his mind again, Lance sensed the tears. One had broken free when Kyrene had bowed towards him and now a few more had joined, their feather weight doing nothing against the fresh blood on his face.

As if that had been his cue, the Spiro lunged forward, reaching for something. Lance changed positions again, watching from the side as the Spiro lifted Zidane by his neck. Lance felt a hint of the tightness in his own throat. The grip wasn't crushing; it was enough to keep air pushing through his lungs

Zidane, however, was struggling. His feet kicked the air, small hands powerless against the one holding his throat. Weak gasps slipped through his mouth as the knife rose again. The blade turned downwards, point resting directly underneath Zidane's left eye.

Another, tiny breath sounded. One that came from another side of the room. Lance turned, looking with both of them to see Adelah standing in a second doorway. She stayed there, the fear never flinching away from her face as the Spiro shouted, the foreign word one Lance could only guess as a heavy curse.

He turned back, knife pulling away from Zidane's face and beginning to plunge the blade in. When the blade was inches away, the flames started. Curling up from Zidane's feet, wrapping around his legs and sending off embers that dissipated almost immediately. Halfway through, as the fire engulfed his waist, Zidane looked towards his sister, barely having enough time to see her face.

The memory was a snapshot; a picture that did not move. The fear was still there in Adelah's face, but beneath the expression, lightly touching her eyes, Lance saw concern. Time sped up, the flames covering Zidane completely. Lance felt the scene slip away, pulling him to somewhere else.