A Blade and Her Witch

What is best in Life? (Blade)

Hers? I'm Xafra. I'm Xafra? Her Xafra. CLAIMED‽ DESIRED!…Terrifying.

The surge of psychosis that formed when she named me narrows into a trickle, background noise as I watch through Elevar's eyes, waiting for the moment to spur her forward. The Weeping of the Suns inundate us, the magical weight invisible to humans, mere fodder like I was fodder, like I will never be again.

A pity I can’t utilize Nomos like the Denizens, to be capable of refreshing oneself with the dawn seems obscene to me. 

I shift my attention back to her. FOCUS.

[I will guide you in this dance, if you would permit it?]

Polite. Must be polite. Real attempt. Would be wasteful to have to kill her. Investment. PARTNER? Perhaps. Wait and see what the weight of the sea brings.

Elevar thrums in consideration but... only sinks deeper into the bond. Loosening her muscles and adjusting her grip.

"Oooooh, Be my guest." She giggles. "I'm merely a novice at anything Martial. Please, show me what one devoted to the study of the blade can achieve when given a blank canvas.”

Praising me? Good. Good. Talented. Prove value. Will kill many for her.

The thwack of the crossbow string's vibration is my signal as I form Physis footprints within my three span diameter leading around the crossbow maiden and towards the tall pair with the weighted net. I can rely on Elevar’s own wards for the bolt, best to prioritize the threat, meager as it may be.

Elevar strides forward, picking up pace as I form more footprints to guide her, a diagram to dance steps. One, two, three, a bar of Physis to duck under as I anticipate the swing of a sword along that trajectory. Four, five, six, a target on a chest to thrust into and step upon, to run upwards. Eight left standing, I begin the drain on the first fallen, slight enough to ensure the link but avoiding the distraction I may cause her.

Like hardtack, better than the chitin eaters, barely. Elevar Dances Well. FASTER. Put her through paces. Evaluate her skills.

One, two, three, plant her foot on the face and stab down to flip forwards. Four, five, six, and slide on knees under the net. Wide swing, my deadblow accelerating my spin as my hilts shatter knees. 5 standing, one dying, two disabled. Crossbow near reloaded, three hateful swords and a—

NO! FORBIDDEN. DESTROY IT.

I send a scream of rage through the bond as I see the last, the unarmed, stab a hand into my food and cut off my supply, pulling Nomos in from the surroundings to seal the wound.

Through Elevar’s eyes she seems a normal human, but to my senses she flares with wretched blossoming magics.

[Denizen!]

Through the bond Elevar hisses in a sudden flare of both fury... and fear. But her words sing of nothing but a mirthful annoyance as she regards the Denizen and still breathing others. "So that's why you all were so bold. You're just... following a little monster around? Thinking to nibble at the scraps and hope it doesn't eat you next? Hmm?" 

All while carefully tracing nonsense patterns along the hilt. 

No... not nonsense… A working to increase our momentum ever further.

I check over her form and compare it to what her spell will demand. Too costly to use without damaging her ligaments and cartilage. I twist the working, spinning her imbued Ousia and Physis into another with an incantation.

[Rive the stream of time, reave from a time long past, what was will be, what was wills it, Temporal Wake] 

The working courses along my edge, cascading waves of slowtime forming as I slice through the air.

[Faster tempo, similar movements. Trust?]

In a pause shorter than a heartbeat, she accepts. Plunging deeper into the bond as she allows all else to drown in the madness of the igniting Spell.

My focus narrows. Killing the Denizen comes first. Under the Weeping, they have dozens of times the power of a Witch, their Nomos usage only limited by the Physis that they blend it with.

I rapidly increase the amount of Physis guide markers in preparation.

One, two, three, swing my edge along a figure eight, to the sides and behind, creating a barrier of slowtime between us and our lessers.

[Behead it. Stop it from being able to reconstitute, We cannot let any survive!]

I’ve been mocked for my loathing obsession before, teased that it was more envy than anything else, but I've despised Denizens ceaselessly since the moment of my creation, my deaths. How could I not when they are blessed by the suns?

One, two, three, and jump.

There is a fundamental rule when it comes to Physis. It is the wellspring of Potential, nothing more and nothing less. One can do extraordinary things with it, but not the impossible. That is limited to the realm of Ousia, one's rather meager influence on existence itself. This seems arbitrary with Witches throwing around fireballs and manifesting lightning from a clear sky using Physis, but it's quite simple. You can light someone on fire. Call lightning to strike. But… a bird cannot fly without wings, and neither can a Witch, yet, this can be disregarded when the Physis is another's. I lift Elevar, a solidified platform of Physis below her, bringing her to the Lawkeeper.

She follows my lead but I can feel the cost of the modified working, a significant portion of the Ousia I provided Elevar already spent between it and staving off her disease. She is becoming exhausted rapidly.

While we prepared and altered focus, the Denizen was not still either, its disgusting soul extending Nomos and Physis into a Null Beacon around itself, a common tactic of theirs to prevent any Physis use untainted by Nomos.  

MUST KILL FEED DEVOUR. Hate it for what I'm not. PROTECT? Have to keep her alive. Named me! Choice already made.

She won't survive fighting it without burning Ousia, and the second we enter that beacon I'll be nothing more than an angry length of metal, as my ability to reason and utilize my gestalt soul externally is disrupted by their beacons. 

[Will Trust you. Plant my Blade into its chest cavity after you behead it. Won't be responsive till it’s dead.]

With that, I pour the rest of my Ousia into Elevar, leaving just a sliver, nothing more than a prey animal's quantity.

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Lamentations of The Dead Dreamer

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