Hazeel tensed, ready for the battle. Spyridon raised his head, and then he took a deep breath. As he released his breath, the wind picked up around them. With the incoming gales, he started to disappear into dust.
Hazeel widened his eyes in surprise, but even then it was too late. Spyridon was moving too fast for anything to see. He had cleared Hazeel and was standing on the opposite end of the square before the nanosecond had passed. As the last bit of Spyridon vanished from his former location, his last remnants reappeared on the other end.
"That, Hazeel," spoke Spyridon in a low voice, over his shoulder, "is why I am called the Assassin of the Eighth Family of Freneskae."
Hazeel's neck had exploded in an eruption of blood. Spyridon had brought his dagger across the full length of Hazeel's neck, severing it from his monstrous head. The blood gushed out in all directions, Hazeel's face still in shock from the suddenness of Spyridon's strike.
Spyridon sheathed his dagger. "Now, if you excuse me, I have an Emperor to protect."
The Mahjarrat never got back to his Emperor. At that instant, Spyridon felt the blade pierce his own back, and then he saw the blood-drenched tip extend out of the front of his chest, and suddenly he knew what had happened, even though he didn't know how.
Spyridon collapsed to his knees, and then he fell to the ground, the pool of blood growing around him. As he landed, he could see Hazeel walking towards him, his head still perfectly centered on his neck.
"How?" Spyridon croaked. Then, he saw through the physical; the blood vessels, nerves, and tissue he had severed, and he noticed a shining cord of red light in the center. It was all that held Hazeel's head in place.
Next, to Spyridon's amazement, the cord unleashed a bit of magic. The magic circled around it and hardened, reforming all the structures he had cut apart. Hazeel emerged from the entire process with an entirely new and unharmed neck.
04-Nov-2009 06:01:27