“Esthine, open the portal!”
“No… I think not.”
Yeah, I made a reference in the title. No, it is not a story for Chaos, but yes it contains betrayal. It’s a simple fight scene, which I’m not that great at, but… Eh, here it is anyway!
The doors to Archon Yrinth’s chambers on Commorragh were heavier than Esthine expected. She would have to change that soon, this was an unacceptable imperfection in what she had planned would be her own soon enough. She had arranged everything perfectly, but she did not expect everything to go as planned.
“I know why you’re here, little Dracon,” Archon Yrinth was waiting for her, his blade in his right hand leaving a trail of black smoke as he walked slowly towards her; conversely, his blade in his left writhed, as if alive itself. “Do not think you are the first to try and usurp me. You are no more wise, nor are you more powerful than the rest,” he uttered as he took another step. He was now within striking distance. She knew his capabilities in combat, gripping her agoniser tightly, allowing it to coil out behind her.
He darted for her, his speed impressive, though nothing that she had not seen before. She smiled, sidestepping but not attacking. She needed the right positioning.
He came at her again, this time it seemed as though there were three of him that weaved in and out of each other in order to throw her off balance. A clone field was not unheard of among Archons, especially in his circumstances. She dodged out of the way, though one of his blades caught her in the side, causing her to stumble as trails of crimson rolled down her kaballite armour. Did he…? She figuratively held her breath, though the fact that she had not collapsed was a telling act. Archon Yrinth held up his left hand blade, now spattered with her blood, his other blade clean, still emitting a slight trail of smoke.
“Did you think that I would give you a quick death, little usurper?” he asked, cackling a sadistic laugh before rushing for her again. She put her weight on her back foot, this time cracking her agoniser at one of the figures that rushed for her, dodging into its direction. As her agoniser connected, the figure of the Archon disappeared and she dodged into its path, though again she felt a blade passing up her chest to her shoulder. She stumbled with the momentum of her dodge, clutching at her chest wound. It was fairly deep, but not deep enough to be fatal. Was this a bad idea? She asked herself as she tried to gather her thoughts, though she did not have long before he came at her again, plunging the same blade into her abdomen. It pierced through her armour with ease, she found herself gritting her teeth with the pain as the blade penetrated flesh. Archon Yrinth twisted the blade, eliciting a pained groan from Esthine as she involuntarily grabbed onto the Archon’s shoulder to keep herself on her feet. He kicked her hard and ripped the blade free.
“Did I give you permission to lay your hand upon me?” he asked as she fell to the ground. She still held her agoniser tightly, though even one-on-one, she found herself hopelessly outmatched against the Archon. Perhaps she should have gotten someone else to do the deed? No, this had to be handled by myself, or another would simply take the power and leave me with nothing, she thought to herself as she stirred on the floor. She could barely move, her body was shutting down and her nerve centres were performing to an amplified standard. She lay on her side, bleeding heavily onto the floor as she found herself unable to do anything but look up at the Archon. He was still laughing and grinning.
“You will make an excellent plaything, my pet,” he uttered calmly, slowing his laughter. “Won’t you? You may be too weak to endure much,” he continued as he knelt next to her, placing his pristine huskblade back into its sheathe. Esthine was about to lash out when Archon Yrinth stumbled backwards onto his feet for no apparent reason. Esthine needed no excuse, her only chance of avoiding a terrible fate had presented itself and she would take it. She willed her arm to crack her agoniser to strike at his neck, managing to get the end to wrap itself around between where the helmet met the ghostplate armour. She knew that he was not equipped with his shadow field as she had stolen it previously, however his first attack had caused it to short out; just her luck. He quickly grabbed at the agoniser, but she quickly jerked her wrist, causing the barbs to rake through his armour and his neck, decapitating him in a messy shower of gore. She pulled a small needle from a pouch on her belt and jammed it into her neck, painkillers rushing through her system to counteract the poisons that Archon Yrinth had applied to his djin blade. She clambered to her feet and looked at the headless figure of the former Archon. She grinned, having been nowhere near the next in line for the leadership of the Kabal; her plan had accounted for that, she had dispatched her personal retinue to deal with the competition, confident in Klaivex Rithin and his Incubi unit’s abilities, though not confident enough in their abilities to send them after the Archon himself. He rarely left his chambers, hence the need for a direct approach more akin to the workings of a Wych Cult than a Kabal. Regardless, it had worked and she had proven that she was the most capable; the former Archon’s usage of volatile weapons had been his downfall in the end.
She took his huskblade from his belt, attaching the sheathe to her own belt. There were preparations to make, cults to maintain relationships with and repairs to be done, both mechanical and biological.
Her only regret was that she was unable to savour his pain for longer.