Gifted

22

Isaiah tried to yell out when Salazar caught Erin by the throat. He'd seen the move coming, it was one he'd taught Salazar decades earlier when he'd taken the giant as his first apprentice.

"You got cocky," he heard Salazar say to Erin as she struggled in vain to break free.

Isaiah's body begged him to stay still, but he couldn't let Erin die. With a whimper of pain he pulled himself up onto an empty barrel, fear and desperation driving him on. Tears streaked his filthy face as he begged his body to let him fight.

"Say goodbye to your apprentice," Salazar said.

Isaiah locked eyes with Erin and howled his anguish as Salazar snapped her neck. The light died behind Erin's eyes and Salazar let her drop to the ground where she lay lifeless and empty.

"You failed her, Isaiah. She's dead because of you," Salazar said.

Isaiah said nothing. His face was blank, his own pain forgotten. He just stared at that body. That tiny little body.

"It's all over now, Isaiah, but I won't kill you yet. I'll let you watch as I-"

A boom like a clap of thunder sounded behind Isaiah and someone flew over his head towards Salazar. The Chief of House Bellator was crackling with fiercely with lightning and she wasted no time exchanging insults. She swung her battle axe into Salazar's chest with all her might, the wide blade burying itself deep in the giant's chest. The Chief yelled a chilling battle cry then leaned into the axe with all her strength. The electricity circling her arced along the axe handle and into Salazar's body, searing through his tattooed skin and into his flesh. The giant's body became paralyzed and rigid as he howled in agony, the crackling energy burning his flesh to ash. He fell to his knees, utterly helpless to stop his attacker, his tattoos flickering and fading with every passing second. The Bellator Chief bellowed right into his face and ripped the axe from his chest, the broad head spitting with magical power. With a shriek of terrible triumph, the Chief scythed the axe down onto Salazar's head, shearing through meat and bone until the blade sank into the rock beneath. The two halves of Salazar's body fell limply away from each other and flopped onto the ground, nothing more than quivering slabs of meat.

Isaiah didn't care. He crawled towards that small, small body and cradled it in shaking arms. His shoulders heaved as he wept silently into the dark hair of a once bright soul.