"Hand over the girl, and I can pretend that the deed is done." Aamon offered. "The organization will never know, and you can finally have the freedom you dreamed of."
Drogov stood silent, but battle ready as he looked at Aamon. He glanced at Annora, the gem fused to her chest, and her fingers that shivered as she held his cloak. Then, his eyes returned to Aamon, to the mechanical arm that aimed at him, and to the eyepatch that covered his eye. His grip on the sword tightened.
Aamon gritted his teeth. "Don't you understand what this means?!" He yelled. "She fused with an artifact! Somehow! We could make more of you! More of us!"
Drogov shook his head, memories flashed through his mind. The curses, the derision, the kidnapping and the dark rooms they kept him in to harness his abilities. The table Aamon tied him to, to find what made him tick.
His eyes became steel.
"You were never one of us." He spat, and Aamon's face darkened.
"Fine then." Aamon hissed. "So be it."
Tseeww!
Drogov ducked as beam of light flew overhead.
"Hide!" He commanded as he turned to Annora, then dashed forward. His sword swept up as he entered Aamon's space but-
Clink!
He grabbed it with his mechanical arm as he came down with his right.
Bam!
Drogov was put into the dirt but quickly rolled to the side, avoiding a beam that pierce the ground as scrambled to his feet.
Shing!
The sword arced outwards, but Aamon ducked, then swept up with his left elbow.
Clonk!
It hit his chin, and Drogov felt the world spin for a second before a palm sunk into his gut.
He felt his legs leave out from under him as he fell into the mud, then a shadow was cast over his body and he looked up. Aamon's foot was in the air, above his own head, and Drogov rolled as he brought it down.
There was purple glow coming from the markings on Drogov's head and he swung his sword.
Ding!
It was blocked this time too. A red glow covered Aamon's arm as he used it to shield himself.
"Heh heh." He laughed, then swung his arm, tossing Drogov backwards.
Drogov hit the ground running. There was a second of none-movement as he feet slipped in and he fought against the backwards momentum, but as he regain friction, he shot forward.
The pruple glow of the markings intensified and he felt his physical weight disappear as he became a living shadow, leaving trails of darkness.
Ding!
He flickered in and out of sight, at speeds incomprehensible to the human eye. His first hit was deflected, and so was his second, but then his third nicked Aamon, then his forth, and his fifth left a mark across his chest.
Aamon moved backwards, the boot of his right leg disintegrated as a flame came from underneath and revealed a mechanical foot. In the same motion, he tore away his eye patch. Beneath it was a metal ball with three large gaps and a green glowing crystal inside, embedded into his skull.
It moved independently of his right eye, constantly scanning the surroundings.
Tsew!
Aamon fired. The beam of light shot past Drogov as he stopped. It missed, but it was close.
Drogov was now a mass of shadow. Swirling black darkness made up his body, and his eyes were two glowing purple orbs that moved like fire.
He vanished again, appearing behind Aamon as he phased through him.
The man keeled over and a green liquid poured out of his mouth as he vomited. Drogov moved to seal the opportunity.
Ding!
But the metal arm came up once more, covered in a red glow.
However, that wasn't all, with his free hand, he pulled out a glowing white stone the size of a pebble and before Drogov could react, their was a flash of light.
The shadows were stripped away from Drogov's body in the blast and he returned to his physical form as the two men flew backwards.
"Ugh." He groaned, as he supported himself with his hands and knees.
"Light magic." Aamon stood, he was the first to recover. "Specially prepared for that form of yours."
He paced forward. Drogov struggled to stand, slipping at first, then trying again. Just he was about to, a beam of light cut through he side and he fell back into the mud. Aamon was getting closer.
"It's a pity." He mused. "You were one of our best."
Drogov reached for a knife, but suddenly remembered that he had left his cloak with Annora. Still, he felt a blade, two actually. Two of the three that had been in his Surcoat. He threw them.
Ding!
The first was deflected, but the second one stuck itself in Aamon's bicep. He paused to look at it, seemingly unphased, but then a green vial flew over and shattered, the liquid seeping into the wound.
Drogov smiled as Aamon fell into panic.
Aamon felt pain flare and his pupils constricted. Without hesitation, a mechanical arm clamped down right above the wound.
Tsew!
A beam fired, and his right arm fell.
"Clever." He commented as he closed the gap, pointing his weapon at Drogov.
Suddenly, the sound of rain ceased.
The two men paused, and stared in wonder at the raindrops that hung suspended in the air. Annora, had stepped out, draped in Drogov's cloak with her arm outstretch. The blue gem in her chest glowed with a stunning intenstity.
Suddenly, all the drops of rain converged on Aamon, coalescing into a massive orb of water that floated with him inside. He struggle for breath, flailing as bubbles of air fled from his throat. Then he aimed.
"Annora, no!" Drogov yelled, and a beam of light crossed the gap.
Tsew!
It hit, but was slightly off target, grazing her shoulder. Still, it was enough to break her focus. The orb fell and dissipated.
"Koff-koff." Aamon wheezed and coughed as water left his lungs. "That damn brat!" He yelled as he rose to his feet, approaching her. "I'm going to cut you open and have you beg-
Suddenly, he was grabbed from behind.
"Seki!" Drogov yelled, and the two men disappeared into the void, falling through their shadow.
"What are you doing?!" Aamon yelled.
"Wait for it." Drogov grunted as he struggled to hold him, and soon enough, he heard it.
Graark!
They were here. Creatures with four glowing red eyes, a mouth full of fangs and leathery gray skin, swimming through the void as they approached. They had no legs, only two arms that dug through the great blackness with a long dark claw on every one of their four fingers. They screeched an ungodly howl that shook the space, shattering shards of reality with every wail.
"What-What are those things?!" Aamon kicked and flailed as they drew close. "Let me go! Let me go!" He yelled.
"As you wish." Drogov grunted as he kicked off from Aamon back, sending him flying towards the creatures who ripped him apart within an instant as Drogov flew to one of the shards.
The void shook, and he reached out as a claw hovered above his neck, and with a flash of light, he was gone. Space shifted, and he was in a sudden freefall as he hurtled to the ground.
Thump!
He crashed into the mud and felt the air leave his lungs in an instant as he gasped. Annora ran over, trying to help him up, but he kept her at bay as he tried to recover.
His left arm hung at his side, his lungs burned and he was bleeding from the wound in his gut left by Aamon. This was probably the worst mission of his life, but he was alive.
"It seems that I got here late." A familiar voice drifted over, and Drogov immediately pushed Annora behind him.
"Are you here to kill me too, Conrad?" Drogov asked as Conrad appeared mid-step.
"You understand the truth of the organization now." He laughed heartily. "It's why I could never retire myself."
He walked over slowly, as if nothing could threaten him, then Annora stepped forward.
She stood in front of Drogov, who was on his knees and clutching his lower abdomen. Her expression was fierce, and her arms and legs were stretched wide.
Conrad stood across from her, looking down at the duo, then smiled wider as he patted her head.
"Don't worry little one. I'm here to help." He assured her, stretching a hand to Drogov. "You've found another like you, old friend."
Drogov looked at the hand, then Conrad.
He took it.
"A caravan is in the marketplace." Conrad said as he helped him up, then looked up. The moon had dipped towards the horizon and an orange glow slowly crept up from the opposite end. "You two should get a move. It'll be leaving soon."
Drogov was silent, unsure of what to say.
"Thank you, Conrad. Really." Finally, he found the words.
"Enjoy your retirement, Drogov." He smiled. "You've earned it."
"What will you do?"
"Hmm. A story of mutual destruction should work out fine." Conrad twirled his mustache, eyes to the sky. "But don't worry about the details. Now shoo. Go on. Isn't there someone waiting for you?" He reminded.
Drogov's eyes widened, he had almost forgotten.
"Let's go." Drogov turned to Annora, and the two made off, leaving Conrad behind.