[Mkguild] The Last Tale of Yajakali - Chapter LXXI

[Hallan Mirayas]

Scratch one decktop!  Or should I say Marquis du Briquette?

Hallan


>          All of them were knocked to the ground =

> by a hammering fist when the flaming arm reached =

> out of the wall of cards and grasped the Marquis =

> by his neck.  Tournemire=92s face blistered and =

> blackened, his eyes orbs of vilest white in the =

> midst of the conflagration consuming him.  Yet =

> still he struggled to break free from the arm =

> coming through the cards from that other place =

> they could all see reflected inside.  The visage =

> of the lightning streaked mountain thrummed.
>          Though her friends rose to their feet to =

> stand slack and lifeless like statues, except =

> Habakkuk who=92d crumpled against the Dais, Kayla =

> still felt the flickering of independence in her =

> arm as she rose.  She poured every once of her =

> will into the bracer, trying to flex the fingers =

> that lay beyond.  A subtle motion of claws, =

> twitching with freedom, and then her fingers =

> balling into a fist.  She flexed, and found to =

> her delight that they moved with her =

> thoughts.  She reached for the blade nearest, the =

> dagger-like Trystathalis.  Her paw wrapped about =

> the hilt.  Her arm fought her as it drew, but the =

> ring of the steel, slow and strident, was the =

> hiss of the dragon=92s ravenous hunger.
>          The cards all gathered into a single =

> wall in front of the Marquis.  The orange light =

> flashed wildly over the cavorting demons =

> inscribed into the Dais=92s forged =

> surface.  Tournemire=92s brilliant blue garments =

> were engulfed by the flame, charring to ash =

> against his body.  His naked flesh sizzled and =

> caked off black and ruined.  Yet still he strove =

> against the arm which licked across his cards one =

> by one.  The cards glowed bright inside the =

> flame, stubborn in their resistance to the fire=92s allure.
>          Kayla pulled on her legs.  Her feet =

> seemed rooted to the floor.  Even when that swamp =

> flower had tried to make plants of them she=92d =

> been able to push away from its vines and =

> tendrils. How she longed to cry out her =

> frustration but her tongue was silent by the will of the cards.
>          An idea struck her as she watched the =

> Marquis writhe while Qan-af-=E5rael levered his =

> bloodied and broken body against one wall.  Her =

> arm she could move some, and this she lowered to =

> her leg.  The bracer brushed against her =

> breeches, and her foot lurched forward once more =

> again her own to command.  She did likewise with =

> the other and then turned her attention back to the Marquis.
>          Where once had stood a man beautiful in =

> his bearing and terrible in his cruelty, now =

> there was only the shape of a man blackened by =

> flame that still coursed over his body.  Only his =

> eyes, deep blue irises amidst a sea of starkest =

> white, were untouched.  His arms, mere stumps, =

> pressed at the fiery arm which bound him.  He =

> paid no heed to the skunk as he endeavoured to =

> save whatever remained of his infernal life.
>          Kayla took a deep breath, summoning her =

> courage to her.  Though her tongue still did not =

> heed her, she thought the words deep inside. =93For =

> Rickkter.=94 She leapt, arm flashing high above =

> her, and drove Trsyathalis the dragon bound =

> inside the eastern dagger through the Marquis=92s =

> back.  Hot red blood shot from the wound only to =

> sizzle and steam in the fire.  The Marquis flung =

> his arms wide, head tilted back and screamed his =

> death agony.  One of his cards scattered across =

> the room and fell face down in a far corner.
>          The flames from the arm singed her fur, =

> blackening the bands of white on her face.  She =

> shied back from it, but as Tournemire=92s body =

> crumpled, the dagger carried her with it, drawing =

> her ever closer to the fiery arm.
>          And then the hand let go, hanging in the =

> air in the midst of the wall of cards.  Kayla =

> yanked Trystathalis from the blackened corpse, =

> and felt an immense surge of energy well in =

> her.  The blade had never been more satisfied =

> than it was now.  At long last, it had tasted the =

> flesh and ended the life of the man who=92d beaten =

> its wielder.  At long last, Marquis Camille du Tournemire was dead.
>          Her breath was ragged, but it was her =

> own.  She stared at the fiery arm in the cards, =

> and watched in utter astonishment as those cards =

> gave into the flames.  One by one they blackened =

> and charred until at long last the arm was drawn =

> back through and nothing remained of that =

> mysterious deck but a pile of odious ash.
>          =93Oh Rickkter,=94 she said, her voice =

> ragged but hers again. =93You=92re free!=94


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