A drop of water echoed in Walker's ears before a voice breached his senses. "You… who brought you here? Assuming you understand our language." The faceless being who he assumed to be a demon took a step closer, its intention being clear even if words were not exchanged.
Walker reached for his back but his dagger was not there. Where is it!? He recalled the moment from earlier where he was sunk into the ground and it dawned upon him where he had dropped it.
The compass still clattered in his palm indicating the amount of danger present violently.
Walker took a long breath and put the compass back into his pocket before he stood up, clenching his fists. He resolutely stared into where its eyes should be.
The compass is indicating danger but even if I take this one down somehow, who's to tell I won't be devoured by the gigantic wolf or whatever it is I'm standing on?
His fists loosened, almost giving up. No… even if the wolf is next, I can't end without even trying. Clenching them back, Walker raised his hands, bending them to reach a fighting stance with both of his fists in front of his face.
Another drop echoed, each time, Walker would feel a shiver run down his spine. "How barbaric, you do not understand yet you're so eager to fight, you disparage my kind when you're not any different…"
Another drop… "Fine," The faceless demon extended his hand downward, palm wide open facing the ground. Fingers with nails long and sharp, capable of slitting someone's throat without them even noticing.
Drop… "Rye al Fley." The ground—wolf began trembling, a spike grew on the ground where the demon's palm faced. It jumped out and pierced his hand, making it contort then immediately grow a blade that fused with his hand.
A drop echoed, "I, Wainder Vierfye will give you death, a painful one." Saying that, another drop echoed as he lunged forward like a bullet piercing through the space between him and Walker.
Instinctively, Walker stepped to the side and swung his fist as he turned around, Wainder's head at aim in his mind.
Walker's punch passed through his afterimage, his head appearing before his arm. What!? Such speed was unlike anything he had ever since.
Wainder twisted Walker's arm, struck him in the chest then sent him flying through the forest where he crashed through the trees until he could break the hurl, his feet and dominant right arm carved through the ground before he came to a halt.
The demon was merciless, Walker noticed him rapidly approaching. Weaponless, he quickly surveyed the area but found nothing even close to a sword to propel his enemy.
Suddenly, a thought came to mind. The trees… they're fragile and broke like sandglasses earlier, I didn't feel any pain. Though it's a far-fetched theory, I have no other choice.
Walker stood up, hand on his knee as he did and the right one on the tree. Parts of it crumbled and remained in his hand.
Here… He hugged the extremely slim tree, carefully pulling, afraid that it would crumble.
A loud splinter resounded, Wainder still approaching, extremely close.
Wainder was inches away when Walker lifted the tree and to his surprise, it was as light as he imagined, which proved true when he took the swing, "Jackpot!" The tree smashed into bits, splinters dispersed in the air like an explosive and through the spores of the strange tree emerged the indifferent demon without a face.
Time slowed between them, Walker stared into its non-existent eyes. With strikes, one, two, a pause. Then three, four, five hit to the center of his chest before he even saw the demon move.
A drop echoed in his mind once more, following with a confusing statement—a warning. "That's three."
The flow of time returned to its original state, the pains in his chest following like an anxious child to their mother.
Blood rose up to his brain, making him simultaneously cough blood with a nose bleed.
Drop… "I'll let you breathe." Wainder took a step back, the blade extending in his hand again. Standing over Walker akin to an executioner.
Walker fell to his knees, profusely coughing blood, painting the giant wolf's fur in front of him red. His thoughts rushed in, thinking of this moment of forgo as a chance to go over his options.
What's he counting down to? Or is he counting up!? No… that doesn't matter, I have to kill him, whatever it takes. Suddenly, a realization dawned upon him as a crack appeared in the bandage wrapping his arm.
There was something he had never noticed nor wanted to believe, that his arm looked more like a demon's than a human. Especially after the loss of his friend, he loathed it.
No… it's not the time to grieve over the past, otherwise I won't have a future. The unwelcome similarity called in an idea that'd seem desperate but that's what he was.
He gradually stood up, drops echoed along with Wainder's count down from 4. Each motion of Walker's body cost him a second. He swung his arm back into place, his palm faced the ground, barely kept still.
Walker closed his eyes, surrounding himself with his thoughts. If it worked for you… let's give it a try, shall we? Sweat rolled and dripped from his forehead, landing on the ground when Wainder's final drop echoed in Walker's mind.
His lips parted like the sea, uttering something that would halt even a demon in disbelief. "Rye al Fley."
Silence ensued, shrouding both of them in it. Unable to hear, see or feel anything, one by hope and the other with bafflement.
A few seconds passed, nothing changing, giving both of them a chance to reflect. Wainder momentary pause dissipated, his heart beat like normal, hair raging once more like wild flames.
Drop… with his eyes closed, Walker could finally see water drop and join with the vast amount of dark, unseen water.
He looked down and an image appeared in his mind, a man with long, black hair and old ancient robes looked up at him through the reflection and stated. "You will die." In the same unfamiliar language.
Walker gasped, the water began to ripple and vibrate suddenly from the middle, his feet became cold like covered in ice.
Upon opening his eyes, he witnessed Wainder approaching but unlike other times, he was slow. His speed was shown through the speed the field of hair waved and they were closer to still than moving.
"Who is the savior that calls upon me?" A voice rang in his head. He looked around but found no one around except Wainder whose voice was sonorous, this voice was lighter with a sense of wisdom in it.
The voice came again, "If it is my might you seek, then call upon my name."
Walker gave up looking and asked, "Who are you?"
He heard a chuckle, "You may address me as…"
Time began flowing naturally, Wainder's speed still incredible, traveling distance like a bullet. He pulled his sword back and swung it forward, aiming at his neck, the intention of executing Walker.
"Heed my call, Stryfe!" The ground trembled and interrupted Wainder's swing. A spike shot from the ground, piercing Walker's right arm and immediately formed a weapon.
A sword of medium size, sharp on both edges and the hilt growing spikes that stabbed into his hand to form a greater grip. Walker raised it with enough pressure to repel Wainder's sword back and went for his neck the same way.
Wainder bent himself backwards and dodged the attack, lunging to Walker's stomach which got struck down before Wainder was kicked back a few steps.
The faceless demon took a few more steps back and fixed his posture and the time to think. How does a human who hasn't lost his soul summon a legacy!? Or is he one of them… a hybrid?
Wainder shook his head, No, I must eliminate him right here before he endangers our kind any further. With that in mind, his resolve grew into his tightened grip, the spikes created from the sword reaching far into his flesh, granting him greater strength.
He took off, marching towards Walker, with the sword in his grasp cleaving the gigantic animal's fur by its sharpness.
Walker who was readying himself for anything saw a thread of light appear out of nowhere, then noticing it oozing from his chest. Only one person came to his mind.
Lucille… But how? The thread kept splitting from two to four to eight then entirely covered Walker's torso then he heard a voice as his blade collided with Wainder's.
"Mr. Soliraine… stay alive until I get you out!" Walker pushed Wainder's sword to the side and struck his chest with the butt of his sword.
"But how?" He asked Lucille, fending off many of Wainder's attacks in the meantime. He began to feel himself slow down with each strike.
He strengthened his hold on Stryfe, a face contorting pain following along with the needle sinking deeper into his arm.
Drop… "You're a human, after all." Wainder's voice for the first time had a mocking tone. Walker spat blood to the side and looked at him, "And you're a piece of shit."
So I was right… Wainder pulled his elbow, the tip of his sword aimed at Walker, his other hand close to the blade to fix his aim.
He thrusted forward, like thunderclap drawing near and almost stabbed Walker before his sword widened and raised its height, turning into a long sword that absorbed the impact and flung Walker several meters back.
He broke the speed by grinding the longsword into the ground, its size decreased the further they went back while blood splattered on their face.
"Hey, I am to be treated better than to be covered in a mutt's blood!" The sword spoke into Walker's mind, he retorted with, "Isn't that how you came in the first place?"
"It was by choice!" It responded back, "Now pull me up, if you die then I'm taking over your body."
Walker used the sword to stand up then pulled it out of the ground, "You've got a deal."
For the first time since the battle began, Walker took the initiative and rushed towards the enemy but before their blades clashed, a bright light engulfed Walker and not long after, he disappeared along with the light, Wainder's slash going through the air and nothing else.
He was left with the quietness of the realm, the one thing he swore to cut down disappeared before his eyes.
•••
Walker appeared out of thin air, his eyes opened in a dim room, the moonlight barely able to keep things illuminated.
"Walker!" Lucille appeared before him, her face painted with worry, her shaking expressed her tiredness.
He was startled at first but his body softened, forcing a smile to lighten the mood even though he smelled wretched.
"Thank you for the help, Lucille." He noticed the sword gone from his hand, Must've been left in there… After standing up, he dusted himself off and looked directly at her.
He deliberated over his words as he said, "That scholar thing… I'm ready to take you up on that request."