Chapter 2: Mr. Nice Guy

Chapter 2: Mr. Nice Guy

A Chapter by Letiel Naynarou

The fight is finished and Tempest is trying to help Letiel get somewhere safe but she doesn't seem to realize he's there to help.


Freedom, another misguided notion. 

The ground closed around Tempest. 

Satisfied, the demon settled back on his haunches with a pained grunt. He gently started to remove the sword but it was lodged tightly in the bone, the tip still pricking sensitive insides.

Suddenly, the Mage appeared before him. "And I'll be taking my sword back." He reached out, gripping the hilt and yanked it free from the dragon's body, using his momentum as it came free to swing his free sword at it's neck.

Alarmed, the demon staggered back, the blade cutting a neat line through the throat. He grasped his neck and glared at his opponent. 

Mages are weak, you will not kill me even with this power you wield. 

The dragon was shrinking as more flesh rotted off bone and gleaming white shone through the dark red. His head was level with Tem's now in this hunched, shirking position. Blood streaming through his fingers.

"And yet here I am, standing over a supposedly superior force." A bolt of lightning leaped from Tempest's outstretched hand, striking the dragon directly in the hole in it's chest. "Yield. Recede. Or your time here is done."

The demon collapsed with the pain, contemplating his options. None of them looked all that good. 

I will survive this ordeal, Mage, and I swear to you by the Lady Ayeth that I will destroy you. 

The dragon shifted down, the continuous bolt shearing through the shoulder and neck of a human now. Letiel, having long since lost consciousness, was propped up by the attack, her bare feet trailing in the ash and mud left by the sputtering fires. 

Show me that mercy of your race or prove your strength and kill her, even as she lies helpless in your attack, the fading voice taunted.

Tem kept up his attack until he was certain the hostile presence was gone. It's final vow echoed in his mind. Somehow, he knew it'd make good on it.

His hand pulled back as the figure of a woman appeared. He was by her quickly, hands hovering over her prone, unconscious body as he gauged the extent of her wounds.

"It's ok, you're ok. You'll be alright, I promise."

She was soaked in blood and falling apart but finally getting that rest she had been complaining about. Funny how things turn out. Distantly, she was aware of the morning sun, finally above the horizon, and a bizarre presence nearby. Hopefully, it wasn't hostile.

Tem expended most of his energy bringing the woman back into a presentable state, his eyes fading back into their normal yellow. His hands were shaking. He hadn't had to use that power in a long time. Shaking his head, he evaluated the situation, and made a decision.


Once again Tempest found himself in New York City, in a posh hotel room with a view. Nobody would be disturbing him or his guest, who was currently asleep on the bed.

Letiel's head was swimming and her first conscious thought was: it must be morning, only mornings suck this bad. A closer evaluation established, that yes, she was in bed. Wait. HER bed didn't feel like this.

She bolted upright, scrambling for a weapon in a panic. Letiel was drowning in fear.

Her caretaker didn't move.

"You don't have any weapons." He turned to look at her, holding his arms out. He was unarmed as well. "Neither do I. You're perfectly safe, I won't hurt you."

She struggled to free herself of the sheets slamming into the wall as she scrambled to take stock of the situation and put distance between her and her attacker. 

A sharp pain twanged in her shoulder and she reached up to rub it through gritted teeth falling to the floor in a heap. The scaring on her shoulder was faint as though many years old though the wound was inflicted only earlier that day, the memory of that lightning jolting through her teeth. Her nails scratched her skin as the wave subsided. She was sweating from the pain but was otherwise clean and clearly cared for. Even in her undignified position on the floor, she realized that. 

The scent of department store wafted from the clean, whole clothes she wore now, her bloodied garments discarded. The long sleeves fell beyond her fingers and the sweats on her legs went well below her ankles. Her dragonoid toes stuck out the bottom, clawing at the multicolored carpet. 

The hotel room was lavish, clearly no expense wasted in it's making, but no amount of wealth changed what it was. Memories of previous experiences in hotels bubbled to the surface and choked her with fear. She watched Tem, wide-eyed, while she held her shoulder.

Moving slowly, so as not to startle her, he knelt on the ground, bringing himself to her level.
"I'm sorry about the patch job, it's been a long time since I've had to heal somebody so extensively. I suppose you think I'm a threat, since...well, I was attacking you earlier."

He tilted his head at her, feeling the fear she was putting out. Maybe words weren't the key. Closing his eyes, he responded to her fear with thoughts of his own, calm, friendly waves. He was no threat.

She flinched away waiting for him to drop the charade. 

"What are you going to do to me?" she asked, whispering. Still holding her shoulder, Letiel started to inch away, keeping her free hand up to protect herself. 

Tem opened his eyes again and spoke softly. "Well, at some point I'd like to do a better job on that shoulder, maybe when I'm recovered some. I'd also like to talk. First though, I want you to feel comfortable."

His mind was totally open to her, no masks or walls in place. His intent was clear. He was curious about her, meant her no harm. The mage sat on the floor, crossing his legs.

"I brought up trays of food. I figured you were probably carnivorous because I've never heard of a vegetarian dragon, so you'll find steaks of varying done-ness and other stuff."

Something was up, something was always up. The enemy tried this before. Veil sent his goons in once to try this routine. It worked the first time, it wasn't going to work again. 

She reached out mentally, searching the room, and masking her search lest she alert present company. She tried not to move, just staring at him while her mind painted the layout to her, noting his immediate thoughts. 

He thought like a soldier. Whatever he was he knew how to handle himself. He would check the exits, he knew where to go if something happened, and he also knew where the nearest weapon was. 
The vent was behind him. Missing screws hinted at the contents. She itched for visual confirmation but didn't dare alert her captor to her awareness, rather she started inching around him. The food was to his side and from there she could leap, if need be, to the vent. 

Pain jolted up through her shoulder and lower on her chest. A thin pinprick of pain, focused like a needle on a fingernail. 

"I won't answer any of your questions."

Her "captor" didn't move, didn't even watch her as she inched around him like her carried a plague. He responded to her with a shrug.

"Then I guess I'll never learn anything. It's just, when I touched your mind for that brief instant back in the park, I felt...something. Similarities, a connection, I guess. We've had similar experiences. Lost people. Failed." He trailed off, staring at the ground before he looking up suddenly, as if snapping out of a trance. "I'm not gonna stop you, y'know. If you want to leave, then leave, the door is unlocked. I'd be disappointed, but you can't always get what you want, I guess."

She watched him warily. Memories of bad things brimming over the edge. Her pain and distrust, flooding the room with skepticism. No doubt the door was rigged, his words an attempt to lure her into false hope. He was trying to sympathize with her to gain her trust. 

It wasn't until Tem looked away that she moved to the vent. The pain in her chest jolted again but she bit back the pain as she ripped the vent open and her free hand closed around the hilt of one of the swords. She drew it awkwardly and staggered to a stance. She didn't wait for Tempest to rise, rather slashed at him while he was sitting.

Tempest did rise, however, standing as she swung down on him. In a quick movement, he gripped her wrist with one hand and slammed the heel of his palm into the blade's hilt, shooting it from her grasp. It embedded itself in the floor a few feet away. He let her go and nodded to the vent.

"There's another one in there if you'd like to try again."

Annoyed and off guard, she warily retrieved the other blade, trying a more delicate approach. 
She feinted left and then slashed at an upwards angle at his right side.

Tem let her come again, watching her move and anticipating the strike. His hand played over the blade with familiarity as he stepped back, making her overextend and fall off balance. "Look, we can do this all night, but I'm not letting you cut me with my own sword. I do feel pain, y'know. I will let you hold it if it makes you feel better." He leaned over and retrieved the sheath from the vent, tossing it to her.

She tapped the sheath out of the air and threw the blade she was holding, using it as a distraction while she snagged the other blade from the floor and came in from the other side, swinging the hilt down at his shoulder.

The Mage watched as the thrown blade planted itself in the ground next to her. He saw her coming. He knew the timing of her slash, knew his own swords, knew exactly when the cut would be fatal. So he closed his eyes and let her come.

The hilt slammed into his shoulder, putting the mage off balance while she spun and slashed the blade into his exposed side. The blade effortlessly slashed through, barely slowing despite her off centered weight and poor handling. Eager to end this quickly she started to push the blade through to cut him in half.

The cut wasn't very deep, enough to make a show, maybe satisfy her. Blackness leaked from his side, but he didn't bother to cover the wound. He wouldn't die because she was being showy. A clean cut through his neck would've decapitated him.

Now as she started to try and shove the blade through him, he reached up, grabbing the metal and wrenching it from her hand.

"Enough. You think I'm dangerous, I understand that," he threw the sword away, "But I'm not going to hurt you. I'm not here to interrogate you, or torture you. I wasn't lying when I said you could leave. I just want to talk to you."

She stumbled forward and tried to turn, aiming a kick at his face but the pain lanced through her shoulder again and she collapsed coughing and gagging on blood. Even when the fit passed she stayed on her hands and knees at his feet, panting and shaking. 

"You're different than others he's sent. Are you a bounty hunter then? How much am I worth now that even creatures I've never seen hunt my head?"

Tempest knelt with her, concerned, still bleeding himself. "He? I don't know who you're talking about. I came across you by chance, in the forest on a walk. Nobody sent me to you. Not that I know of, anyway. Are you ok?"

"Don't lie to me!" she snarled, lashing out and backhanding his arm. "No one just randomly finds me. I've made sure of that." With some effort she rocked into a sitting position, holding her shoulder. She pulled the shirt down to look at it again a solemn look on her face. 

"You knew what to do, how to stop that... that monster! Veil's people are the only outsiders who know how to do that." 

Shakily she grabbed one of the swords from the floor, the weapon heavy and unfitting in her hands but it was still a sharp blade and this creature was too close to her and had already proven himself to be strong. Only Blade, her guard, could beat down Omaotin, but this... thing did it with ease. She was genuinely afraid. Letiel would rather die than stand against that power, and here he was staring her down with concern. There was no way that concern could be genuine.

Tem sat back as well, his side healing up.

"I took it down because I paid attention. I saw felt what it wanted and tried to threaten it. Unfortunately it did turn out to be, well, you, and I'm sorry for what I had to do." He nodded to her shoulder."You think I have some kind of ulterior motive. That I'm not here to kill you, or keep you here until whoever really wants you arrives. That isn't the case. I don't keep many friends." He sighed and stood up, wandering over to the cart of food. "But just because I say it doesn't mean it's true, I suppose, especially not to you."

Letiel stared at the wall, blood filling her mouth again. She coughed, too exhausted to move. 

"No one just helps someone else, especially not me," she mumbled, her head slumped forward. "Regardless, I don't know who you are. I can't trust you... I should kill you." Her fingers grasp the sword hilt a little tighter. She didn't have a lot of energy left but he was distracted. This would probably be her last chance. 

With a muffled groan she got to her feet and stumbled towards his back, the sword held in front of her. She stabbed at his heart, all of her dead weight behind the thrust.

Letiel's tired, stumbling movements made rather alot of noise. Tem knew she was coming, and wheeled around, snatching his sword back and glaring into her eyes. He was getting heated, but her state made him cool off. She was bleeding from the mouth, was obviously tired. He dropped the sword and grasped her arms carefully. "You're not ok. Lay down, let me help you."

He helped over to the bed and sat her down.

Alarmed at his touch she weakly kicked at his legs, her nails catching on his pants. 

"Don't touch me!" she growled. A fit of coughing cut off the tail of pleas and she fell forward against his chest but she steadied herself, refusing his help. The adrenaline from the moment caused her legs to twitch and she pushed that energy into her legs, forcing him away with a solid kick to his abdomen.

Tem stumbled back and recovered, fists clenching as he glared. Again, he cooled.

"Fine. Forget it. You're in no shape to do anything. When you feel like talking, or even breathing correctly, let me know." He took a seat. "I'm just trying to help," he mumbled.

She tried to sit up on the bed but was failing. Falling to her side she concentrated on staying awake. There was no way she was going to sleep with someone she didn’t know watching her. 

"You said you knew what it felt like," she mumbled, barely coherent. "To lose everything.... You're lying. No one else knows what that feels like. You're lying, you have to be."

Tem looked up at her, his eyes looking very weary suddenly.

"Don't I? I was the protector of my race. But I let one person go too far and let him wipe them out. It's just me now. Well...not JUST me. You don't believe me? Take a look for yourself. The door's open." He tapped the side of his head with a finger.

She snorted, "I don't dare enter your mind. No doubt there's nothing but corruption and cruelty in there. You're lying," she said a little clearer. "You're probably the one who killed them all."

He was across the room in seconds, hoisting her off her feet in anger.

"You want the truth? Take it." 

© 2013 Letiel Naynarou

Author's Note

Letiel Naynarou
Again, please keep an eye out for rushing or moments that need to be expanded to eliminate confusion.

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Added on January 22, 2013
Last Updated on January 22, 2013
Tags: Eloium, black, mage, letiel, tempest, blade, conar, elite, four, nihood, battles, maelstrom, omaotin


Letiel Naynarou
Letiel Naynarou


I'm as my friends would say: spontaneous, unpredictable, odd, a little weird, and have high moral standards... I can't help it! ...Should I add more? I feel lonely not having my favorite pictures u.. more..