Ethel ran through the bodies of crowds. People shouted in confusion. Some thought she was a thief. Luck was on her side for once, as the luminary couldn’t use his miracle prayer in public. Ethel used the people as her shield to dodge his reach. This made him gave up on the idea of using force and chased her instead. She guess he wouldn’t want to create chaos among the people if a sinner was in the town. But she won’t last long with the wound on her side. The wrath she absorbed from the resident has yet to fill her. It was slower than usual.
I need to leave quick! She glanced back at the luminary. She can’t teleport like she did yesterday. It wasn’t dark enough.
Frustrated by the chase, she turned around. She drew a line of crimson flame between them. The people screamed and scrambled away.
“A sinner!”
Her shadow scattered and grabbed a few shadows of mortals nearby. Frozen in place. The hostages trembled in her palm. The luminary halted.
“Children, get away from here!” Ethel glanced at the female voice.
The same little girl from the alley held the woman. Her little hands clutched on the saint’s skirt. Wide hazel eyes glistened in tears, meeting her crimson eyes. The woman shielded the girl with her own body despite she herself was already powerless to protect her own.
The luminary approach. She clutched the shadows of hostages enough to make them scream for mercy. Their cries pierced her. But she kept a serene face.
“Not another step or they’ll die,” Ethel warned.
He glanced between her and the hostages. His hand hovered on the hilt of his sword. He raised his hands. Cerulean blue eyes wouldn’t stop throwing daggers in her direction. He can curse her all he wants, not that it matters to her. Right now, she needed to stall the time for the sun to sleep.
Nobody made a move. Only the sound of the hostages’ whimpers filled the silence. Cold sweats broke out on her forehead. The luminary’s eyes remained on her the entire time. He could have given her trouble if his mouth wasn’t bandaged. Perhaps an injury or a punishment? The Order of Luminary acted pure and kind to the people. Meanwhile, she saw some devil disguised themselves as saints.
“Please let us go,” the child begged.
The little girl’s sob stabbed like needles. What started as a sympathy now turned into annoyance. She was already in a tight situation and had to resort to a method she despised. The throbbing wound and the child’s cries clawed the demon she tried to put at bay. She could turn the entire town into oblivion once her patience snapped.
The sun disappeared into the horizon. Darkness stretched out from its hiding. Ethel summoned the shadowy mist from her shadow. The luminary flinched forward, realizing her another attempt to escape. But she made sure her hostages reminded him of the worst consequences. Ethel disappeared into the mist. Hundreds of scarlet butterflies fluttered away into the night sky. Traces of fiery, glittering crimson embers rained down. The hostages dropped to the ground and cried out in their loved ones’ embrace.
* * * * * *
Ethel collapsed onto a nearby broken bridge. She couldn’t go far from where she came from. For now this distance will do. The luminary will be too busy handling the aftermath.
She clutched on her side. The skin around the wound turned black, emitting a foul stench smell of a rotting corpse. Thorns protruded from the flesh, growing and devouring her inside. Her blood painted the roses into a full bloom.
“I should have known!” Ethel grabbed the thorns. She took a deep breath before yanking it out. Scream rippled. River of blood gushed out. She placed her head on the ground. A laugh erupted from her chest. Once the thorns were out, the flesh snitched itself back. Pride doesn’t possess such an ability. It was someone else. Another sinner among the seven.
Someone is here. Her butterfly warned. A lone figure emerged from the looming shadow of a thick forest.
“Who is it now?!” Her voice came out rasp. Black stars dotted on her vision. The demon she tried so hard to curb inside was clawing at her thoughts. If he wished to continue, one of them will die. She wasn’t in the right mind to be merciful.
Metal scraped on the stone ground. Red spark danced in the dark. Heavy footsteps vibrated the bridge. A warrior clad in a black heavy armor stepped into the moonlight. He wielded an enormous blade glowed in red of the accursed moon. Black shadowy mist crept out from the gaps of its armor. A pair of red garnet eyes peered through the helmet.
“Fallon,” she called out.
Scarlet butterflies emerged from her shadow. Their bodies burned into crimson fire. Ethel won’t survive this fight with only her shadow. She’ll need to use the abyssal shadow.
“E-E-thel!!” His voice was hollow. Fallon slashed the ground before howling a roar to assert his hostile presence.
“I wasn’t expecting a lazy bum like you would take anyone’s order.” Her hand still trembling. She barely recovered after ripping her flesh into mince meat. Now stand before her was a new challenger, she had to gamble her chances of surviving. Either way, Ethel was living on borrowed time.
She touched the fourth butterfly. It burned into a fiery crimson flame. Black smoke cloaked her body. Fallon lunged forward and appeared a foot away from her. He swung the massive sword at her neck. The moment the sword touched her skin, the blade melt. The heat continued to spread to the hilt. Fallon had to throw it away. The fourth butterfly—Touch of Wrath, cloaked her vessel with unseen fire, melting anything that comes into contact. Every strand of her hair to the tips of her fingers burned everything.
Ethel reached out to his helmet. Fallon shoved his hand to his shadow. A similar sword emerged. However, it had a different rune on its blade. Upon realizing this, Ethel pulled herself away. Fallon wasted no time to swing the newly summoned sword to her neck for the second time. The tip of the blade barely sliced her neck.
Ethel held a hand on her wound. It was a minor scratch that could have been fatal if she was one second late. “Someone’s desperate for my head.”
Fallon called out the rest of his swords out from his shadow. Each sinner had their own abyssal shadow. It represented their memories and regrets. Ethel has her six scarlet butterflies, while Fallon has his six swords. The abyssal shadow manifested only after their deaths. Memory accumulated through times formed a new power for their next awakening.
“Your sixth sword. I’m glad I didn’t take a gamble to press on forward.” Ethel released her hand from her neck. The wound faded into smokes. “For it to slice through my flame. You could have been the strongest if not for your laziness.”
She knew the power behind the other five swords. The sinners have always gathered together and shared the details of their new power. They had only each other's backs while the world feared and loathed them. However, both of them were no longer allies now.
“E…Ethel!” He shouted in a hollow voice.
“Alright, I heard you! You want my head as a souvenir. You ought to work harder for it!”
Two sinners charged forward. Ethel utilized her own shadows to manifest stakes. Fallon repeatedly shifted to different swords, swinging the massive swords and shattering her stakes into shattered glass. She had a hard time trying to keep up which sword he was wielding. If she loses sight of his sixth sword, she’ll lose her head. The sixth butterfly glowed on her side, urging her to use it.
No, not yet. I can’t risk revealing you.
She fought side by side with the sinners for centuries. This was the first time they ever tried pointing their blades at each other throats. She wished to avoid showing Fallon her last card. If it comes to that point, then she’ll reveal the sixth butterfly, and Fallon must die.
Every second she tried to hold her ground against him, the sixth sword left more scratches all over her body, ripping away the shadowy mist of her robe. It kept getting closer and closer to her neck. A memory flashed before her eyes.
Fallon’s back before her as he faced against the knights of luminary. Half of his armor shattered. He never stood in front of the battle. He usually stayed at the back and watched over the battle unfold. However, whenever they found themselves pushed at the edge, he was the first to step forward and protect them all.
“You’re pushing me too much job, Ethel.” He complained when things get rough. Still, he carried his sword for them.
She cursed at the memory for resurfacing at the wrong time. The sixth butterfly burned the brightest as she poured in all of her rage. Fallon’s sixth sword reached out to her. Both raced against time for the last strike, either her sixth butterfly or his sixth sword.
Suddenly, Fallon let out a thundering roar, shaking the earth and heaven. Patterns of red streaks illuminated on his black armor. Shocked by the new appearance, Ethel gathered her shadow to block the coming blade.
I won’t make it!
A cobalt blue cloak fluttered beside her. The sound of blades clashed rang in her ears. A thin sword blocked the sixth sword. The knight held a bold gaze towards the garnet red eyes.
“You again!”
It was the same luminary. His back proudly carried the cloak bearing the emblem of the luminary. The mortal wouldn’t give up. He came all the way here by himself, sandwiched by two sinners.
He grunted as he kept his ground against the heavy blade. While the luminary kept Fallon busy, Ethel took the chance to pierce her stakes through his black armor. Fallon howled. The patterns on his armor glowed brighter.
“Get back!” Ethel warned the luminary.
Both of them stepped away. Fallon shrugged the stakes with a slight movement. Ethel shared a quick glance at the luminary. Gazes flickered from Fallon and each other. Without a word, they turned to Fallon. Hence, they’ve made a temporary truce.
Can he hold on without his miracle prayer? Her eyes narrowed at the mortal. The sixth scarlet butterfly flapped its wings to gain her attention. A smile crept up to her lips. It was called a miracle prayer for a reason. A lone star shone even in the darkest hour. Despite being born with a fragile vessel, they armed themselves and charged into the battle with death already walking beside them. Their stubbornness knew no bound.
