Channelknight Fadran

"This... no. It's not."

"What are you doing here?"

"Wha--fine." She grit her teeth. "Just get moving."

"We need to get going." Elya started somewhat hobbling away from the building, struggling to go anywhere without Ji's assistance. "Now." @#1 Taln Fan @Szeth_Pancakes @Fallapede @DramaQueen @Tani...?

"You'll be our prisoner."

"We don't have any time left." Elya shakily pushed herself out of Ji's arms, keeping an arm around his shoulder. She wobbled, but stayed up. "If we stay, we're all dead." @Szeth_Pancakes

"Who're you?"

"I... didn't kill him." Elya closed her eyes and hung her head. "But he's gone. I'm sorry."

Two knives were in her hands a second later. "I can't."

Elya swallowed. Her brow furrowed, pity crossing her eyes and face. "I can only tell you that I did not kill him." She replied carefully. "I wasn't there."

Elya held her hand out to Ne'ik. "May our paths never cross." @Szeth_Pancakes

"Yes." Elya replied. "I'm sorry we had to pull you into this."

Elya untied the knot; best she could, anyways, with her hands shaking and slick with blood. It came apart after about a minute: she put the twine back away into her jacket. "You're free now." She said simply. "The Pacis will be here any minute, and they're likely to shoot before asking questions. If you're found, you'll be killed. But we're leaving too, meaning we have nothing left to fear of you." Despite everything, she let out another cry of pain. One extra tear leaked out. I'm really not... on top of it today... Elya's thoughts were going fuzzy, and she was suddenly very aware of just how tired she was.

"I wish we could." She really did. All of her body was shaking and growing weaker by the second. "But we can't. If we aren't out before they get back to the Pacis, then we're all dead." Elya glanced about, taking in the situation. Lyanor and Saaphir looked fine. Lights... two people couldn't carry three. "Ji, see if you can stand," Elya said. She turned to the others. "Saaphir, get Ne'ik. Bring him out here. Lyanor, take Verim. I'll--" She tried to stand, stumbled, shouted, and collapsed.

"I can't." Elya glanced around, looking at the place. A million thoughts--a million things to say--rushed through her mind, all at once. You need to be okay. We need you to be okay. I need you. I need you to be okay. But he wasn't listening. "Those people. They're called the Reapers. The Emperor's most powerful Mystics." Other than the Angel, Elya thought, but opted not to add that. "They work with the Pacis, and they came here. This place isn't safe anymore. We have to leave."

Elya's breath caught. She hesitated, shocked; shaking, still. Then, inhaling shakly, Elya reached her hand down past his shoulder. She found his wrist, hand, and fingers--and quietly slid hers into them. "I'm not going anywhere."

She dragged herself further, then--by sheer force of will, more than anything else--Elya pushed herself back up onto her knees. She wavered, shook, but eventually refounded her balance and managed to stay upright. "H-hey. Ji." Elya managed to guide her hand to his shoulder. It was still sticky and red with blood--but, then again, so were both of them. "Ji. Look at me."

Elya couldn't even tell where he'd last struck her. Agony flared through every inch of her body, pulsing and throbbing as blood soaked into her clothes and ran down her arms. She stumbled, collapsing to her knees. Her sword, shining silver and red, clattered beside her. Elya glimpsed her reflection: pale, spilling red, grimacing against the pain. Her powers flickered away. She cried out, stumbling and falling face-down onto the floor. Coughing and hacking, she fell victim to the pain. It throbbed, thundered, then shot across in every gash like fire. Through gritted teeth her body tried to scream against her will, letting out a half-muffled, primal shriek of agony. A pair of tears leaked out her eyes, lost in the blood. Then, just a second later, the moment of weakness passed. Elya sucked in a shaky breath. It hurt just to breathe. She pushed herself up with her forearm, arms shaking against her own weight. Blood spilled into her mouth. She spat it back out. Now was no time to give in. The Reapers were leaving. The room, for the first time since the attack, seemed to empty as corpses dissolved away, out of the influence of the sister's power. With what strength she had left and every inch of resolve, Elya crawled--dragged herself, more like--towards Ji and Verim. @Fallapede @Mystic Syn

Elya let out another pained growl, but held her ground this time. Her blade whipped at him as he drew close, cutting deep into his arm and chest. As soon as the moments passed, though, she could feel the blood running down her arm. Getting a few hits on him wouldn't be enough--in terms of attrition, he would win this. She had to end him. "I've met her blades with mine," She replied, going back to glancing aside his knives and slashing him with her sword. Her thoughts and focus were starting to go fuzzy--lights. She was losing too much blood. Elya watched for an opening to strike at his neck or chest, but no knife fighter would make the mistake to give her one. They couldn't hold out. Even with Verim pushing himself to heal herself and Ji, they couldn't simply hope that he'd be able to hold out long enough to take them all. Maybe there was an option here. A terrible one, yes: but an option. Elya watched and fought carefully, sparks and blades flying in the trading of skill on skill. Balancing attacks and defense were key to deal as much damage as possible while protecting themselves--but, with this Mystic's powers, that wasn't an option here. Elya slid a dagger into her hand, braced herself for pain, then ran directly at the Reaper--and into his knives--to stab him in the throat.

Sparks scattered left and right as the clattering of steel on steel rang out. Between living corpses, the brother's attacks and defenses, and the blood running--gushing--down her face, Elya drew more and more on her powers. Despite having been well-rested and fighting ready, it took more effort than she'd had to muster in a long time to stay afoot. Three of the Emperor's 'Reapers,' as he called them. Elya scanned the one called Saatvik through the bloody pain, reading his attacks. He'd put the knives away to use his powers: clearly they were a secondary weapon. By the ferocious way he hacked at her and the malicious glint in his eyes, she could glean his patterns--in and out of form. The ability to inflict and spread such damage was an undeniably vicious and efficient way to take out an opponent--but there was one aspect in which it was lacking. Elya's powers blazed up inside of her, pouring through mind and muscle. Her movements, reactions, and perception all flared to a crescendo as she pushed as much power, momentum, and speed into her ever-increasing attacks-- Putting, as it should, the Deathgranter on the defensive.

Lights! Elya withdrew, hacking through more bodies. There were simply too many of them. Weak, frail, and slow; but persistent. They were going for everyone--Lyanor, barely holding her own; Ji, nearly unconscious on the ground. She caught a glimpse of him. His sweater hadn't been anywhere near that red a few minutes ago, and his face had gone pale. Hell. He was dying. If they couldn't help him soon... But the monsters were still coming. They were overtaking the others. There was no way around it; she had to get rid of that Deathgranter. I'm sorry, Ji... just hold on. With a renewed burst of strength, Elya started crashing through the corpses, bent--pinpoint fixated--on killing her.

"What?" Ellis glanced between her and... wherever the voice was coming from.

Trusting--hoping--that Lyanor could hold out, Elya broke free of the undead hordes. She charged the siblings, swinging her blade at the slowed brother before moving towards the sister with a cold fury.

Dragging her blade about in a flurry of steel, Elya cut through line after line of undead. But they kept getting back up, crawling towards her with grunts and moans--and some were going for Lyanor. That Deathbringer was a real problem.