Harruq barreled around the curve, determined to catch the foul elf that had dared injure his brother. As he turned the corner, the twang of bowstrings filled the air. Three arrows hit his chest, barely puncturing his armor. He bellowed, furious. All three elves were in the center of the street, away from cover or protection. They would die, all of them.
The archers fired another volley as if not surprised the first three had done little but anger him. One zipped by his head as he ran, two others thudding into his chest and arm. Blood soaked the inside of his armor, but the wounds were superficial, halted by the magical leather before penetrating deep enough to be a bother.
“For the head,” the closest elf shouted in his native tongue. He managed one last shot before Harruq closed the distance. The half-orc batted the arrow away without thinking.
“You bastard!” he shouted, slamming into the elf without pausing. He buried his swords deep into the elf’s chest as he plowed forward. “You hurt my brother! You spineless cowards!” The other two abandoned their bows and drew their blades.
“Your brother is dead,” one elf said. “Gaelwren waited for your departure. He will not find it difficult killing a wounded dog.”
The anger inside Harruq consumed him entirely. He charged the elf, abandoning any hint of precaution. He slammed his blades down with all his might. The elf blocked once, twice, then three times, wincing each time he did. Then the other elf was behind Harruq, stabbing at his back. While mad with rage, Harruq still knew very well where his opponents were.
He spun, avoiding the thrust, and then trapped his assailant’s arm with his elbow. A flex of his muscles cracked bone, and the sword fell from a limp hand. Harruq let him go, bellowed at the first elf, and then hurled both his blades. They turned end over end through the air, one missing, one not. The one that missed sailed until it hit ground and bounced. The hilt of the one that did not smacked him hard in the forehead.
The elf staggered back, swiping at Harruq as the half-orc charged. A thin line of blood appeared on the half-orc’s forehead, but he was oblivious to it. His hands were around his enemy’s throat and his strength at its greatest. The crunching flesh underneath his fingers was all that mattered. The elf behind him retrieved his sword and attacked, his right arm hanging useless, his left stabbing desperately. Harruq flung the dying body around by the neck. The sword buried up to the hilt in the makeshift shield.
Harruq dropped the dead elf and lashed out. His backhand broke the elf’s jaw. Reeling, the elf staggered back, only able to raise his meager arm above his head. Harruq smashed an elbow into his chest, followed by knuckled fists atop his skull.
“Stay down,” Harruq said. He retrieved Salvation and Condemnation from the dirt, and then stomped over to the beaten, bloody elf warrior.
“Mercy, I am beaten,” the elf gasped as Harruq lifted his head by the hair.
“No such thing,” he said. Salvation tore out his throat. Condemnation hacked off his head. He sheathed his blades, breathed in deeply, and then let it all out in an ecstatic, primal cry. As the last of it left his lips, he saw an elf’s shocked walnut eyes from a nearby alley. His gut lurched. The fire in his veins sputtered.
“Why so surprised?” he asked Aurelia, shame draining the thrill of his kill.
“How could you?” she asked him. “What harm have we done to you?”
Harruq shrugged. “You think you know me, but you don’t. I kill, Aurry. It’s what I do. It’s what I do best.” He drew out his swords, still dripping with blood. “Perhaps you didn’t believe it, but this is me.”
“Don’t do this,” Aurelia said softly. “It doesn’t have to be this way. Please, Harruq. I don’t want to fight you.”
“I didn’t want you to fight either,” Harruq said, his eyes leaving hers for an instant. He took a step toward her and raised his swords, just as when they sparred.
“Stop this,” Aurelia said. Her staff remained at her side. “Will you kill me, too?”
“I asked you not to fight, but here you are. Qurrah made it simple, Aurry. Either I love you or I kill you.”
Sparks rained down as he clanged his swords together.
“Is that how you feel?” she asked. The tears in her eyes ran down her cheeks, not to be replaced by any more. “So be it.” She took up her staff and held it defensively. “You are a fool, Harruq. May you die as one.”
Harruq charged, his black blades gleaming. Every nagging doubt, every tiny part screaming for him to sheath his blades, he channeled into his mindless rage. His swords hacked chunks out of the staff, which held together only by Aurelia’s powerful enchantments. She blocked several attack routines but one finally slipped past. her dodge too slow, a black blade cut across her cheek. She paused, rubbing her cheek as Harruq smirked.
Blood. It was as she feared. Harruq’s weapons were enchanted.
“Your spells won’t save you,” he shouted. “No elf will save you. No one!”
“Why this hatred?” she asked, smacking away a dual thrust. “When have I shown you anything but kindness?”
Harruq gave her no answer. Instead, he stabbed with Salvation, a higher thrust of Condemnation trailing behind it. Aurelia turned her staff horizontal and pushed upward. Both swords stabbed high above her head. A quick turn and one end of her staff rammed the half-orc in the gut. The blow knocked the wind out of Harruq.
“For what reason do we fight?” she asked. “For what reason do you harbor this hatred?”
He glared. “I told you. I’m fighting elves. You’re one of them. No simpler than that.”
“Liar.”
Harruq snarled, the elf inside him all but invisible. He charged, recklessly hacking at Aurelia.
“Why do we fight?” she asked again, desperately trying to block every swing. Blood covered her arms, and another swing cut through her dress, slicing into the beautiful flesh of her leg. “Why, Harruq? Why!”
“I don’t know!” he cried. Strength surged into him, dark and unholy. In the blink of an eye, he twirled both swords, knocked Aurelia’s staff from her hand, and then looped his right arm all the way around to bury Condemnation deep into her stomach.
Everything, all fighting, all arguing, all bleeding, living and dying halted at that moment. For Harruq, there was only the sight of Aurelia doubled over, her eyes filled with sadness. His arm yanked the blade out of her, without any thought on his part.
“Harruq?” she gasped. She fell on her back, still clutching her bleeding abdomen.
That look of sadness tore through his rage. What should have been the exhilaration of the kill was instead the cold, biting emotion of guilt. His eyes lingered on the blood on his blade before something changed inside. He looked back to the elf, and again the words of his brother echoed in his head.
Do you love her?
No, he’d said.
Then kill her.
“Aurelia?” he asked, as if seeing her for the first time. “I didn’t mean to, I, Aurry, please…”
He knelt down, his blades falling from his limp hands. He pulled away Aurelia’s hand to see the blood, to see the wound.
“No,” he said. He rocked backward, the color draining from his face. “No, I didn’t mean to, I didn’t…I didn’t…”
Aurelia tried to say something, tried to comfort him, but no noise came from her throat. She was dying.
“No!” Harruq shouted. He pulled out one of his healing potions, yanked off the cork, and forced the contents down Aurelia’s throat. The elf gagged, retching up half of it onto her neck and chest. Harruq got out his last potion but could not open it for the shaking of his hands. Desperate, he put it down, picked up one of his swords, and shattered the top of the vial. He flung the potion back to Aurelia’s mouth, nearly shredding her lower lip on the broken glass. More of the silvery-blue liquid poured down her throat.
Harruq sat there, clutching her hands in his and waiting. The seconds crawled slower than the longest of years. He didn’t care if anyone came and saw him, not even his brother. His tears fell onto her bloodstained dress. For far too long, she did not move. His heart cried out in agony. It was too late. He had killed her.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered to her. “Forgive me, please, if you can…”
“What are you babbling about?” the elf asked, her eyes cracking open. Harruq tried to smile, but a sob came out instead. He hugged her, his forehead pressed against hers.
“Help me up,” she said. Harruq did as commanded. When she was standing, he grabbed his blades and sheathed them. She leaned all her weight against him, and such close contact only deepened his guilt and anger. He knew she watched him, and he wiped away his tears as quickly and subtly as he could.
“Why, Harruq?” she asked him. The half-orc shrugged.
“We…Qurrah…I don’t know.”
“No,” she said, leaning on her staff. “Why did you save me?”
He kicked his toes into the dirt, unable to piece together the chaotic mess inside his head and heart. All he could think of was what his brother had told him to do.
“Qurrah said to kill you if I didn’t love you…”
“Yet you didn’t,” she said. Harruq nodded, but said nothing else.
“Hana fael!” a voice cried from far down the alley. Both turned to see an elf raise his bow and fire.
“Look out,” Aurelia said, shoving Harruq aside. The arrow hit her breast and reflected off as if hitting stone. She glanced at Harruq, her face a mixture of anger and fear.
“Others have seen you kill, haven’t they?” she asked.
Harruq could only shrug. More shouts came as two other elves turned the corner. Aurelia swore as she heard what they said.
“They call me traitor,” she said. “I protected you, and now I am a traitor.”
The half-orc stepped before her, preparing his swords. “They won’t touch you.”
“I know,” Aurelia said, summoning the last bit of magic inside her. A tear in the fabric of reality ripped open, swirling with white and blue magic.
“Get in,” she yelled.
“What about Qurrah?” he shouted.
“Go inside, you dumb fool!”
She cracked her staff across his back. Harruq stumbled into the portal and vanished. Aurelia stepped in after, arrows landing all around her.