The Final Act

He watched from the shadows of the gallery, high above the Temple's floor and in direct line of sight to the Altar. The redheaded Penitent was prostrated near the stone. It needed its final soul so that the ritual could be completed. It hungered for it. She should have died before the Trial begun. But there was still a role for her to play. For her soul to help break the First Seal. Tamazzalt looked on from the shadows and hoped Oshar would not be late this time around...

The assassin did not disappoint. As the girl knelt entranced by her awakening, Oshar entered the temple through one of the many side doors embedded into the walls below. He moved slowly, carefully, savouring the anticipation of the kill and the culmination of his work. Each step brought him closer to the girl Islana, her back to him; exposed and vulnerable.

The storm grew and grew, Islana could feel it with every ounce of her being. It was a clear presence, she felt every movement of the earth, heard every crack of thunder, felt the deluge of sand, wind and rain hitting off the ground towards her. There was no telling how long the storm would last or how long she lingered in it.

Despite, her mind being foggy from the Felfar something suddenly seemed off, as if being awakened from a dream.

Green eyes opened to find herself, in the temple, her hand on the stone. The huntress removed her hand slowly, reluctantly from the stone then turned around.

Oshar let the blade slip to his hand as he took the final steps forward. The air felt so pregnant with power, he could not help but be reminded of the woman Shalia as she moved through the garden. A sense of peace filled him and he approached Islana. He was already imagining the soft resistance of flesh against his daggers tip followed by the sharp release of the skin and muscle as it slipped inside her body. He could already hear the sharp intake of her breath as the white hot pain contorted her torso and the wet crunch of bone as he gave the final twist that would seal her fate. He raised his hand ready to strike just as she shifted her weight upon the stone and turned toward him.

From high above he saw his chance this was the moment that needed to be seized.

Vaulting over the balcony Tamazzalt jumped into the air, his robes fluttering around him. His eyes flashed red and a huge gust of wind surged from the floor upwards like a draft of summer air stopping his fall and carrying him to the rug covered stones below. He gripped his staff in his hands, looking at the scene unfold seeing the surprise and fear in the girls eyes as the Herald came upon her.

Tamazzalt the Ascendant rushed forward towards the altar.

Her eyes widened as they came in contact with her would be assailant. Who was he? Why did he want her dead? With more time, and her head a little clearer, the redhead might have contemplated those questions but all she could do now was react.

Her body moved backwards and hand moved behind, trying to find anything for protection. It only found the stone.

From out of nowhere, it seemed, the Ascendant seemed to swoop down and rush her. Her mind was too foggy to understand what was happening completely, except the danger which came for her.

The huntress wanted to protect herself but her body and mind was making the attempt difficult.

The girl appeared dazed and confused this was good. Oshar tensed ready to strike when a sudden rush of air almost caused him to loose his balance. He sensed movement behind him and glanced back to see Tamazzalt descending to the ground nearby. His heart was filled with joy as he realised his faith had been rewarded. The ascendant himself had come to witness this final act. He could not help but bark a laugh of pure triumph as he turned once more and plunged his dagger down toward the girls heart.