For the Hate of God

Farewell, daughter of Noosha

Aralyn’s POV

While failing to learn from my past mistakes, I glanced back again quickly, and I saw my mother's shadows projected out of her body while my father was in his Lycan form. His Lycan looked like your worst nightmare, like the beast that came straight out of the ninth circle of the inferno. A bear-sized, massive, two-legged monster that looked like an enraged, sadistic, homicidal wolf on a hunt. His obsidian fur glistened blindingly in the hazy night as he shifted before my mother. If the reason for his shift weren't so daunting, just looking at the shine of his fur would make one mesmerised. The only light point on the deadly mass of charcoal black fur were his eyes, now radiating between neon grey and glacier white. The beast before us was truly magnificent and beautiful.

Scrap that, nothing beautiful in here, I thought to myself next second when I saw his dragon-like fangs dripping foamy saliva, snarling and snapping towards mother rabidly. He looked monstrous, murderous and daunting, while his claws looked like blades. Should, in some bizarre parallel universe Freddie Krueger and Wolverine ever be able to procreate children together, the claws of their urchins would be as those of little kittens when compared to this fuckers claws.

My mother knew she stood no chance against him in physical combat. Because forget his talons, this guy is a lethal bulky mass of muscle, brute force and embodiment of strength and stamina. She knew the only way to spar with him was with magic. He released his magic during the combat, but it was not as obsidian nor as strong as my mother's. His strength was in his physical power, not in that of a mage.

When they released their magic against each other, his magic reminded me of moonlight. He clashed with Mother whilst simultaneously attempting to lunge at her throat. Tentacles of Mother’s magic were slivering left, right and centre around Malleteagan in an attempt to engulf and squeeze his neck in a life-or-death fight. Her magic was wreaking havoc against the beast that looked like a devil himself. But he ignored it, swiftly cutting through it, punching and cracking every bone in her body. No matter how much she tried to deflect and avoid his assaults, he was too quick, calculated and destructive. Within seconds, she looked like a sack of broken bones. Her attack morphed into desperate defence, and slivers of her magic retracted back to her.

She looked so small and frail against the embodiment of the beast, which was quickly draining her out of life, energy, and magic with every punch. Soon, she looked shattered, knackered, and defeated, although still determined to fight tooth and nail against the beast before her. She fought to death to keep me alive and safe, to give me time to run. The number of wounds and bruises on her made her unrecognisable. Mom had skin tears all over her body and face. She was bleeding profusely. And then, I heard it. Her final scream while she gurgled and gasped for air. It sounded as if she was choked with her blood. She fell to her knees with a loud thud and collapsed on the ground.

Mother lifted her head and watched him straight into her eyes. I have heard my mother roaring a strange, foreign and mystic invocation: “Invoco majores meos ut des sanguinem et magica meum in sanguinem meum. Maioris mei voco ut darem heres meam potentia meam c.um stillicidium sanguinis mei novissimum effusus fuerit.” He decapitated her by the swift severing of her head from her body with his claws. Her corpse fell, lifeless, and her blood started to soak the earth surrounding it, whilst shadows engulfing her during the fight began to evaporate from her body in the thick air, darkening the night and entwining with the late-night fog of the forest. The extent of the flock of magpies which rose from the trees above us at that moment was hard to gauge with one’s eyes. They were squawking and cawing in an unbearable cacophony whilst rising to the sky, adding more to the dim and murky colours of the now jet-black sky. Then I heard nothing more. Just ominous silence, which was broken by Malleteagan‘s vicious, victorious snarl combined with the rushed footsteps sound of his mammoth-like pace. I am his next goal now.