The heiress stood on the circular pavement with her family's eerie darkened estate in the background. She rose her clenched sword and skirted back her left foot. Behind her was erected an arc of ice, the one object set to be protected - not even herself.
Across the icy wind rose a shadow. A reloading sound could be heard, fire came out not too long later. The summoned beast vanished back into the shadows as a means of surviving, an all too familiar sentiment.
She performed half a spin releasing another wave of fire, slicing and pulverising the beasts in front of her. She thought she heard a voice - perhaps imagining it - in desperation she readjusted her position, there'd be no criticism this time.
Another creature of Grimm lunged itself her way, she almost perfectly dodged using her glyphs to catch herself. A vacuum of air pushed back the beast, her stabs finished it shortly after.
Like problems after an arrangement gone wrong, the beasts kept coming. She focused on what was in view, stabs accompanied by blasts of elements sliced and diced through the soulless beasts, no pity to be felt.
In the silence she heard a noise, a wrong one. A monster had begun tearing down the arc. She focused too much on one thing, one goal, one arrangement, one means of surviving. It hadn't been the first time nor did it seem to be the last.
A blast was launched towards it, the beast fell evenly in between the sides of the blast. Two sides surrounded the beast, one side of the arc was larger are more supported, the other was smaller but more unique. The unique side caught her eye, it was like a hidden passion whereas the other one reminded her of the appropriate and traditional way, one chosen by their parent for a child.
Much like what occurred in her life, the beast would not go away. It started to destroy her sanctuary, her arc, her outlet - and she couldn't make it go away. Even the icy creature's antithesis of fire would not damage it.
What fuels a man is not a desire to destroy buy rather to help by any means necessary. She recalled those words, words from him. At least this "man" would go away, the "beast" who keeps her in a patriarchal prison would not.
The beast graced itself into the shadows. She used to do the same back when the more supported and traditional side was her calling. Her eyes narrowed, trying to best the creature like she'd always attempt whether made of ice or in a suit and tie.
The beast dodged the attack as if taunting her by saying too slow under the guise of help. No longer would she fear something that seems greater, seeming and being are merely distant relatives. She sneaked behind it, stabbing the creature. One beast was destroyed but she now had a larger challenge, though this time the more unique route called to her.
"Done, only one scratch on the arc this time, you're improving but still not there," the older woman in front of her said.
"I know, I'll do it next time," she said a bit dazed, she was preparing exactly what she'd tell him later on.