Grey Spatium 32

But I didn’t offer my bond any words of advice or comfort. It was neither the time nor the place for such futile gestures. Until the battle ended, I knew Arthur needed the armor of blistering fury that he had wrapped himself in, and so I remained silent. Even Regis’s thoughts were quiet as he guarded over Oludari Vritra below the mountain.

I sensed Arthur’s intention before he acted. His weight left my body, and he appeared midair thirty feet in front of a Wraith. Aether condensed in his fist, forming a weapon. Several more appeared around him, folding into being, each one a physical representation of the apoplectic rage boiling barely contained below the surface of his composure. The floating swords all lashed out simultaneously, sweeping through the air to slightly different points.

At the same time, his primary aether sword, the one in his hand, thrust forward. The Wraith predictably dodged the handful of flying swords, putting him in place just as another thrust through the aetheric pathways and into his line of retreat. Even for a Wraith, there was no time to react as the blade thrust down through his shoulder, heart, and core before blinking away a half second later.

Gravity had barely started to pull Arthur earthward before he was on my back again, his cold fury unabated by the calculated death.

Arthur’s arrival on the battlefield finally broke the remaining Wraiths’ will to keep fighting, and all six of them split off and attempted to retreat in different directions.

“Get those three!” Charon thundered, banking sharply left and giving chase. “Windsom, stay with the patrol!”