The moment he unleashes the attack, I dive sideways. I don’t run away from him but toward the largest shadow in the arena—the one cast by the massive obsidian pillar behind him.
I wrench it upward with everything I have.
The shadow rises like a living thing, wrapping around his legs, his waist, his arms. It is not enough to hold him forever. In fact, it almost shatters as he struggles against it.
But it’s long enough for his concentration to snap.
The half-formed obsidian spikes collapse. And the backlash of his own unstable domain fractures the ground beneath him.
He stumbles, his expression filled with confusion. One moment he was close to killing me, and now he’s the one trapped.
Almost there. Almost…
I reach for my faithful dagger, the sharp blade glinting as I drive it into his throat.
His eyes widen. He gurgles once. Then he falls to the ground.
For several seconds I remain over him, my chest heaving. Every muscle burns from exertion. Sweat drips into my eyes.
My vision starts to swim.
Then his body dissolves. Ash lifts into the cavern air and soul energy blooms from it in luminous streams.
Focus, Nyk! You can’t lose consciousness now.
It’s so hard though. I haven’t even exerted that much strength or effort, but it seems just trying to control a few shadows drains my spiritual energy extremely quick.
I get to my feet. Focusing on the light from his soul, I will a few specks to come toward me. They dance in the air: one, two…five. That’s how many I manage to consume.
To my surprise, the shadows around me shiver in response.
Warmth suffuses me, traveling through my entire body. A sense of pure euphoria overtakes me and?—
My face is moved to the side with force and a resounding thud. A red handprint appears on my cheek.
“You’re such an idiot, Nyk.” Moe stands in front of me, crossing her arms over her chest.
We’re back at the obelisk. People all around us stop what they’re doing to watch the show—us.
“I am?” I blink.
“How could you take such a risk? Are you daft?”
“I’m alive, aren’t I? We’rebothalive.
“Barely,” she mumbles. Then, reluctantly, she comes to my side and pats me on the shoulder. “You did well, though.”
“Then why the slap?” I ask with a pout.
“Because sometimes you drive me to violence.”
“And other times?” I smile innocently at her.
She narrows her eyes at me. Raising herself on the tips of her toes, she tries to get closer to me, but she’s still too short. I lean toward her. The distance between our faces narrows to mere breaths.
“Other times…” Her lips twitch. “You make me want to give you a brain transplant.”
She brings her fingers to my forehead and gives me a poke.
