Aurora arrived at the lair of Wilfre, bright red sneakers skidding on the many pitch-black loose pebbles scattered on the floor of the cave as she slid her sword smoothly out of its ornate emerald sheath. She never killed unless she had to, but it was highly unlikely that Wilfre would listen to any sort of reason.
She saluted Wilfre with her beautiful rapier, but the only response she got was a hoarse, coughlike laugh; Aurora winced as she heard its roughness, and heard him say something, but his voice was so twisted, wrapped in the shadows of its owner, that she could hardly comprehend. It was scary how close she came to wanting nothing more than simply to listen to his voice, understand the reasoning behind his awful schemes, dwell on its sweet oily beauty.
He would have been a good singer. Wonderful baritone. He could have made such a great Count di Luna. If the raposa had an opera known as Il Trovatore, demanding of that part, that was.
She shook loose these thoughts from her head, and saw a beautiful sea-green trident with entrancing and mysterious darkness spiraling around the haft spin into life from shadows. He mocked her hero's salute, a sight which made Aurora more sorrowful than angry, and simply hovered there, regarding her with contempt. He swept the trident through the air, and from the speed of the swipe, it looked more like it was underwater than anything else.
A giant scorpion suddenly burst from the darkness, rearing up intimidatingly, and she backed up, suddenly uncertain. She was, after all, only a human borrowed from another world to assist in the saving of this one. She was just as mortal as any of the raposa, contrary to all they thought about her origins.
She was only here because Ailenore, Creator of the Raposa, had begged her to come help them. The reality was stark and uninspirational. Aurora would have preferred the raposa's myths to any facts.
The trident's shape melted suddenly and flowed like a thick liquid to the scorpion's stingless tail, reforming itself a moment later into the deadly three-pronged weapon. Aurora hefted her sword and waited for the scorpion to make a move, adrenaline pulsing through her veins, heart pounding as though clinging to life.
The scorpion raised its front legs and exhaled deeply—an inky cloud of shadow droplets burst from its maw, and she reeled back, coughing, lungs burning as her shining green sword clattered to the floor.
Wilfre laughed as she scrambled to pick it up, eyes streaming, struggling for breath, and the scorpion lunged for her. Stumbling backward just in time, she barely managed to fend it off with a few weak swipes of her sword, praying fiercely for it to back off.
As though Ailenore had heard her prayer and somehow been able to fight through the shadows to help her chosen hero, the scorpion backed away as suddenly as it had advanced. Aurora glared at it suspiciously, eyes still streaming, and was about to advance when the scorpion breathed forth another cloud of Shadow.
Aurora held her breath and willed the shadow into clouds, harnessing the Creator's power to do so. Taking a flying leap onto one of them a moment later, she sliced at Wilfre as she went. He gave a surprised sound, backing up quickly enough to avoid the magnitude of injury Aurora meant to cause, a drop of thick black blood flying onto Aurora's cheek and clinging to her skin. As though the scorpion had been wounded as well, it spasmed suddenly, a gash appearing on its upper body.
Regaining her energy and determination, Aurora held the sword ready, waiting for the scorpion to make a move, and move it did. Lightning-fast, it charged her, pounding its pincers down on the cave floor, rattling Aurora enough to paralyze her.
Wilfre laughed and said something scathing as the trident on the scorpion's tail cut a shallow gash on her cheek, which burned and stung as though poisoned. Which may have been true for all Aurora knew.
She pushed the poor possessed beast's trident stinger away, sword in hand, swaying slightly as her body got used to being able to move again. She glared at the scorpion, which backed away and resorted to its shadow-breathing trick. Smirking, Aurora willed the shadowy fog into hardened clouds, charging once more and barely managing to cut Wilfre's upper arm.
He glowered at her with his glowing pupilless eyes, and the scorpion's image wavered and vanished, stinger flowing back into Wilfre's hand. Shooting her an exceptionally ugly look far more intimidating than any of the scorpion's expressions, he raised his scepter and brought it down sharply, speed still suggesting that of an object sweeping through water.
A rather large ninja star hurtled straight down towards Aurora, who barely had time to get out of the way. Trembling at her close call, she sighed in relief, but another fell where she had moved. Jumping out of the way, Aurora quickly learned to keep dodging the seemingly neverending rainstorm of shurikens, never staying in one place for longer than a second. She knew he was only toying with her, trying to exhaust her before the real fight started—and most definitely succeeding.
Wilfre's trident suddenly elongated, flowing like some kind of three-pronged deadly water whip towards her and impaling her side with one of the trident's barbed spikes. She felt warm blood soaking her waist, and gasped in agony, but kept her sword drawn, ignoring Wilfre's scornful laughter and the added pain as he ripped the weapon out of her.
A ninja star impaled itself in her back. She had forgotten to keep moving. Heaving herself to her feet, she ensured that her grip on the sword was firm, then yanked the shuriken from her back, wincing.
Jumping out of the way of yet another ninja star, Aurora ignored the blood steadily pulsing from her stab wound and charged as best she could. Looking surprised, Wilfre countered her attempted slice with his now proper trident, narrowing his yellow eyes and stabbing at her.
Much like the scorpion did.
Anger rushed through Aurora as she remembered all Wilfre's underhanded techniques—possession of innocent beings, mainly—and she straightened, forgetting that she was injured; her attacks gained power, her defenses becoming more sure. She summoned the power of the Creator and her sword glowed green, along with her own ordinarily brown eyes.
Aurora met Wilfre's trident with the sharp edge of her rapier, and sliced the prongs of her adversary's weapon clean off the haft with a rush of triumph. However, he smacked the side of her head with the straight sea-green rod of metal that was still in his paws, knocking her successfully to the rocky cave floor.
Curling up and holding her head, trembling, Aurora groaned as another ninja star fell from the sky and lodged itself in between two of her ribs. Wilfre laughed again and said something else, floating closer and poking her tauntingly with the trident haft.
A shadowy tentacle sprouted from the haft and wrapped itself around her neck and body, squeezing gradually harder, driving the shuriken farther into her body. Aurora sawed at the tentacles with her blade desperately, but to no avail. Eventually she simply closed her eyes and prepared to die.
The Creator's voice spoke in her mind. Aurora! If you give out, we have no alternate plan. You must keep fighting! I myself will tell you when it is time to die.
Aurora's eyes flew open, determination once again renewed. If she was going to die anyway, she might as well give everything she had… the entire race of raposa depended on her for survival at this point.
Gathering all her remaining energy, mental and physical, struggling not to black out, Aurora lashed out convulsively, forcing the tentacle away and stabbing Wilfre through the heart in one fluid movement.
She let go of her sword as it entered Wilfre's body with a sickening, indescribable kind of noise, shadowy blood spattering the ground. Breathing heavily, gulping down air as though she had never breathed properly before, Aurora watched him carefully, holding her wounded side.
Wilfre sank to the ground, a grimace flickering across his utterly shocked face, dropping the haft as his paw shook.
"I'm—I'm sorry, Wilfre," choked Aurora, eyes blurring with tears.
Wilfre frowned slightly, and tried to say something, but lapsed into painful coughing.
Aurora moved closer to him, very cautiously, and reached out for his paw, grasping it gently in her hands and holding it, surprised at the lack of attempt to snatch his paw away. Though his warmth was indeed fading quickly, he was… as warm as a real raposa…
She had slain one of the kind she had intended to save.
This wasn't right.
And the heroine held the villain's hand as he died.