Tainted Victory – Chapter 11 Conclusion (Page-a-Day)

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The second wave knocked Olivier onto his side. It jolted his skull. His body ached more than usual. He looked at the floor. Multiple lights danced along the ground. He tightened his eyes, blinked, then reached to get up. The cacophonous sound of clashing magic alerted him. He turned to see his soldiers stuck together in an ink black goo ball. “How did they…” his thought hopped roads upon seeing Hugh. Hugh gripped his knife in one hand. The conflicting magical energies blasted outward to the area around them. His free hand held the arm the knife was placed in. Based on the light and energy coming from the free hand he was healing himself. “No!” He took a step off the raised platform. Evelyn entered his gaze. She placed her elbow at his chest. She jabbed it tight. 

“Just stop. It is over.”

“If you destroy the knife it could cause major destruction!”

“How convenient for you.” Evelyn held her arm back to stop his forward momentum. 

“You do not understand!”

“You’re right,” Evelyn said. “I do not. He does, though.” 

To Hugh, destruction was not evil. He had never used it for such. Destruction did not mean death either. They often went together, but it did not mean something destroyed was something lost. He had used this power on warts, external infections, and to cut open bodies for autopsies, never this. The principal was the same he figured. Break down its cells to the most basic of components until nothing of it remained. Warts, and infections were easy. The body did not want them anyway, so kicking them free was more a suggestion than force. The knife, despite being a knife, seemed to have its own will. Its own sense of drive and continuity.That made sense honestly. The knife did not have the will of an object, but the will of magic inside. The only difference between the knife’s magic and his own was simple. He had both will and magic. 

Hugh tightened his grip on the knife further. His hand touched the hilt. The knife fired back. It zapped the palm of his hand. He moved his free hand around the gripped one. He gave off a healing wave. His grip tightened a final time.

 The knife enveloped itself in a ball of energy. The ball and knife inside began to shrink in Hugh’s palm. The orb around the knife let out a light mist. It shrank further. The cells of magic in the knife started to break.The edge of the ball pressed along the knife’s tip. A crack snapped from the tip of the blade down to the base of the hilt. The mist grew stronger, quickly filtering around Hugh. The crack in the knife grew larger. A multicolored light shown in the crack. The light grew brighter and brighter. Hugh kept his sight squarely on the knife. He could not look away or he might lose concentration and fail. Knife’s handle cracked. Mist drifted along the floor and out the door of the castle. Hugh closed his hand. The knife snapped apart. The multicolored lights explored in his palm. A blast of wind whipped the mist out of the room. Hugh opened his hand. The ball of energy was gone. Nothing remained. 

Colt, Troforsect, and the men in the ooze ball all passed out. Those that could fall to the ground did. They made a heavy thud. 

A third wave crashed into Hugh. This was not a wave of repulsion or magic, but of exhaustion. He crouched down. His legs quivered then dropped him onto his backside. He looked around. The throne room was further wrecked, but outside the storm had cleared out. Bright blue skies, a beating yellow, and rhythmic calls of birds ushered in a nice day. He fell onto his back ready to never move again.

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