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As The ritual started I knew I needed to act. The awful Fateweaver with his blue wings and face of a bird with that horrific beak sat there in the middle of the pentagram. With the strange crimson flaming symbols around it.
Fateweaver’s long bird tongue shot into the Queen's mouth and she didn't care. This was all wrong. My mind needed to break free from this frozen prison.
My dulled blade twitched in my hand. I wanted to spin it rapidly. But I knew the mob of these mind controlled people with their eyes like hard boiled eggs would attack.
They still smelt of chemicals with awful hints of cinnamon and dried herbs.
Even now those mobsters still made animal noises as they presumably tried to cheer Fateweaver on. It was disgraceful.
All I wanted to do was kill everyone in this room, except my handsome Harrison and the Queen of course.
I wanted to get a torch and burn all these bright corrupted golden walls with their almighty depictions of battles and important moments. As for those long decaying black sheets of silks. I wanted to burn them.
My Flesheater ability twitched to be activated. I couldn't. Not till Alessandria was here.
My mind broke free.
I charged.
Whipping out my sword.
Fateweaver didn’t see me.
The mob surged forward.
Harrison grunted.
I spun.
He whipped out his dagger.
He thrusted his dagger into the feet and legs of the mobsters.
The mobsters fell.
Harrison slit their throats.
I swung my blade.
This was a massacre.
Mobsters died in the tens.
My powerful sword swings sliced deep into flesh.
The mobsters’ uncontrolled.
Their movements rough and sloppy.
They didn’t know how to attack.
My blade slashed and lashed at their chests and faces.
I sliced into their hard-boiled egg eyes.
They didn’t care.
They didn’t feel it.
Harrison kept stabbing and thrusting.
The mobsters kept falling.
He was protecting.
My legs shot through a mobster.
Even their flesh was weak.
They weren’t going to survive this.
The mob stopped.
I didn’t.
I spun around.
Fateweaver was missing.
Fists slammed into my back.
I didn’t move.
I swung my sword.
Fateweaver laughed.
He slapped my face.
He appeared in front of me.
He swung his staff.
I met it.
Magical energy crackled around us.
The air hummed in frustration.
No one wanted this.
I saw Harrison start to crawl.
I didn’t want him to get hurt.
Fateweaver unleashed an onslaught of swings.
I struggled to dodge them.
My hand ached with each hit.
Fateweaver’s attacks were powerful.
He kicked me.
Pain flooded my stomach.
I whacked him.
His staff buzzed and zapped the air.
I grabbed it.
It was stupid.
Images of death, pain and agony filled my mind.
Fateweaver panicked.
He punched me.
The staff pressed against my mind.
It wanted to control me.
Fateweaver didn’t.
Fateweaver tried to pull the staff away.
The staff didn’t let go of me.
Fateweaver shouted something.
I couldn’t hear it.
Fateweaver screamed.
The staff released me.
Fateweaver kicked Harrison in the head.
I lunged forward.
Wrapping my hands around his throat.
How dare he!
His throat felt strange.
The feathers felt unnatural.
I squeezed.
No one attacks my Harrison.
Someone whacked me from behind.
I fell to the ground and Fateweaver started laughing manically. My first priority was always the man I loved. His nose was bleeding but he was okay. My beautiful Harrison was living proof that paralysed people were capable of amazing things. Without him I hate to think what the staff would have done to me.
Raising my head, I looked in utter horror as I saw Fateweaver kissing the Queen lovingly. The way his beak moved was unnatural. A beak shouldn’t move like a human mouth. But it did. This wasn’t right.
Then it dawned on me that the Queen was the one who attacked me. Fateweaver or maybe the staff had control over her. Probably the Staff. Why else would Fateweaver not want me to be controlled?
There was much more to this than I knew about but this wasn’t helping.
Standing back up I glared at Fateweaver, I went to step forward but ten mobsters grabbed me.
No. No. No. I hate touching, this was ridiculous. I hate touching!
My autism went into overdrive. The touching. No!
I forced myself not to lose control. I really wouldn’t activate the Flesheater ability. Not now. I’m not sure if my ability would tell the Queen was not to be killed.
I took my dulled blade out of my pocket and my eyes narrowed at Fateweaver. He knew I would activate my ability if I needed to. If he threatened Harrison again, I would. I don’t care about killing an old friend if Harrison is okay.
Fateweaver nodded and I spun my dulled blade slowly in my hand. Judging my Fateweaver’s bird face I think he was concerned about the speed at which I spun.
Granted I’m useless or next to useless about reading emotions. I think he knew I wasn’t scared or panicked. I knew his end was about to happen.
Guessing he was trying to get his mind off my dulled blade, he returned to the ritual and that horrific bird tongue shot back into the Queen. The air crackled violently. The climax wasn’t far away now.