Riven had stopped in time for a river of anger to overwhelm his mind and stomach inexplicably.
Although in fact the explanation was more than plausible.
He had not been able to prevent an iron pride like his from being deeply affected again, simply stimulated by the sea of memories arising from what he was looking at.
He squeezed his weapon as tightly as he could while Darcy regained contact with the floor.
She no longer had the appearance of only a short time ago; the cat eyes and the expression full of sweetness and understanding seemed to have been suffocated by force, in a now too corrupt soul to arouse in the boy the same attraction.
Darcy's face was pale, tense and full of hatred for the world; the same hatred that had ended up pouring on him, shattering an illusion that lasted too long, a false image of a non-existent girl, in a thousand pieces, and collapsing the solid house of cards that he had tried to build around that apparently happy relationship.
They were both immersed in the shadow, facing each other. The tension was felt by hand, hovered in the gloomy environment of the phoenix fortress, with such intensity that it could have crashed the walls.
Riven knew that sooner or later he would have to face that situation.
For a whole year, once he had ascertained the impending threat of the Lord of Shadows and his allies, he and his squad had prepared themselves for the fight; in the past few months he'd had so many occasions to demonstrate his strength and to finally vent his anger during the attacks at the enemy, and he had not wasted even one. He had pointed the weapon at the same girl who had bewitched his heart and then thrown it into the darkest oblivion. But every time, before he could inflict his revenge on her, she and her companions had promptly vanished, leaving him only the bitterness of yet another failed attempt.
But now nothing would stop him from hitting.
She was alone; he could not say whether the fact was intentional or not; but he was sure that this way she would be more vulnerable. And no one would rush to give him help, and that was what he wanted: he would fix things once and for all, and without hindrance.
All he had to do was hurry before the other two witches showed up, making the task more difficult than it already was.
He swallowed and squeezed the weapon even harder, clenching his teeth and mentally imposing himself to keep control of it at all costs.
Darcy came up to him. Posed and slow, as she always did, staring intensely into his eyes. He seemed to want to read inside him, or so Riven thought, before realizing that the girl was already doing it.
If he did not defende himself in time, he would fall under her powers, and this time no consensus would have been contemplated. He could not allow her to infiltrate his mind and take his innermost thoughts to use them against him.
He raised his weapon and launched himself against the witch, trying to hit her. She stepped aside, to land only a little further, continuing to move on, within a few meters. Her silence made the tension even more sharp.
-You know you have no power over me.- Riven tried to intimidate her in turn, sensing below that it would be useless. He tried to convince himself of that statement, not knowing whether to fully believe it or not. She seemed to know perfectly well what she was doing; he was not sure he could still trust his own mind, which had already proved too weak.
Darcy answered those words with a derisive smile. Riven's mind had already proved to be an open book, so that even playing with it, had gradually lost its amusing charm over time. But it hadn't always been easy; the boy had repeatedly shown his great lucidity, just enough to stay immune from some of her manipulation spells.
Normally, Riven would never hit an opponent without him counterattacking, and the fact that Darcy persisted in intimidating him with just a glance, seemed to have no explanation.
-You leave me no choice.- He said, and prepared to strike again.
Darcy avoided the blow once more, vanishing, swallowed up by the darkness, and then reappearing behind him, showing him an evil grin.
-You didn't changed at all, Riven.-
The boy turned to look at her, while he felt an annoying feeling of well-known fear reappearing at the door of his mind.
-Look at yourself. You call yourself a hero, but you're scared to death.-
Riven paused on that treacherous smile, suddenly feeling the desire to turn it off forever. She had managed to do it again: to see the truth where he persisted in building firm lies.
Just do it, he told himself. There was no time for second thoughts, and doing the right thing meant putting all the compassion aside.
He advanced, dragging every little trace of resentment, and charged the blow.
Without him having time to notice, the witch disarmed him with abnormal rapidity, leaving him petrified.
The sword was thrown away by telekinesis.
Darcy approached him threateningly, preparing to hit him with a heap of energy. The purple glow that enveloped her hands promised nothing good, and the boy began to think he had no escape.
Then Darcy began to attack, as she had never done with him.
Riven avoided a barrage of shots, only managing to imagine what the consequences would be if they hit the target.
-What would you want to do?-
-Want to fight? Here, you are served.- she replied.
He circumvented his opponent trying to move in the direction where he saw his weapon fly, at least to try to take it back.
He moved quickly, but Darcy showed no sign of giving up. He knew her well enough to know that he would never do it, except in cases of major entity.
Riven saw his sword abandoned on the floor and threw himself on the ground to take it, dodging another blow.
He turned in time to see Darcy approach him dangerously.
He was on the ground, and he could still have said he was defenseless, except for the proximity of his weapon that gave him that extra sense of safeness.
He was about to take it when Darcy trapped him on the ground, preventing him from moving.
Riven was startled when he felt his belly oppressed by her weight and his wrists were grasped by her hands with unprecedented force.
When Darcy brought his face close to hers to stare her eyes in it, Riven tried with all his strength to look away, mindful of the unpleasant sensation given by his free will abandoning him, overcome by the powers of her who made their way, subtle, in his subconscious, becoming part of him.
-You were right.- Darcy hissed. -I have no power over you.-
He kept his eyelids shut.
-It means I'll have to find another way.-
He tried to move, but he seemed to be under the influence of a powerful anesthetic.
He only sensed her sharp fingers grasp his face and bring it parallel to hers.
It was as if a voice entered his mind, intimating him to open his eyes.
He carried out that implicit order, to find himself facing the petty glow of Darcy's wide, amber eyes, who now felt distinctly reading his soul, bringing his innermost thoughts to light.
A vision began to flash in his mind like an intermittent light bulb, causing havoc in his already contradictory emotions.
Darcy was in front of him, her back turned on him. Her very long hair, dark and shiny as silk, covered the bright red fabric that enveloped her.
Riven tried to escape that memory, thinking of something else, but he realized that it was impossible.
Darcy raised her arms, putting her hands on her shoulders and grasping the edges of the dress with her thin fingers.
Riven gave up, surrendering to that disarming vision that was gradually awakening familiar sensations in him, bringing a suffused and veiled feeling of nostalgia.
Crimson silk slid down her body as her face slowly turned to meet the boy's bewitched eyes.
It was just one of the many memories that he had forced himself to suppress for so long, but that he couldn't, or didn't want to let go.
And she, with one of the most subtle spells she was capable of, had brought it to the surface, breaking through the bond that she had once created between their minds.
Riven, just when he seemed to give up, clung to the last glimmer of lucidity which allowed him to just emerge from the trap of his unconscious.
He spoke with difficulty.
-W-what are you doing to me? ... stop...-
The spell suddenly seemed to fade, although Darcy's evil eyes showed no sign of moving away from his.
-What's wrong with you, Riven? You forgot everything? -
Riven felt the vision fading gradually, and he could not say whether it was by the witch's will or by his own. He just had to resist, be stronger than his mind.
-Stop it ... I don't want to remember ...-
-You can't lie to me.-
The boy tried to push her away only with the strength of the muscles that he was barely feeling again under the skin, still numb from the attack. But her magic was tremendously stronger.
With his left arm, he groped for the hilt of the sword. He found it.
His mind was almost totally clear again, and Darcy was only now beginning to let go, won by an overwhelming realization: Riven's will was too strong.
-Get away from me, witch.- he said, holding the weapon and pointing it at the girl.
Only then Darcy moved away from him, rising from the ground in an attempt to remain unharmed.
But it failed. The sharp blade swirled in her direction, swift as a bolt.
A high cry tore through the air when Darcy was surprised by the sudden pain at her right arm. The witch fell to the ground, landing on all fours, clutching her limb where a deep, bleeding cut had appeared.
Raising her face, contracted by the pain that had taken most of her energy away, she stared hatefully at the boy.
Riven stood motionless on two feet, watching.
Darcy launched a telepathic request for help to her sisters, who abandoned the defense of the phoenix lair to come to her aid in a few seconds.
Icy and Stormy rushed to her, to see if she could continue to fight or not, while Riven backed away from their sight, already managing to retreat.
When Icy noticed the serious wound on her sister's arm, she stared at the boy, seething with hatred.
-How dare you?!- she yelled.
Darcy looked at Riven for a brief moment, with a grimace of pain and anger, before seeing him disappear in the shadow of the fortress, towards his companions.
A lump of lightning already began to form in Stormy's hands.
-No, Stormy, forget it .- Icy said, while with her own ice she tried to heal her sister's wound as much as possible.
Darcy squeezed her lips tightly, while the pain in her arm only slightly eased under the ice.
She brooded over what had happened, convincing herself that she deserved that.
-I'm fine- she said, reassuring Icy as she got to her feet.
The wound burned, but never as badly as the bitterness that this defeat had left in her.
He hadn't wanted to give up, not yet; not with Riven. She had persisted in believing that he had not forgotten her, and that she still kept the traces of those memories that they had built together. And in fact it was so. Those memories were still there, repressed by a too strong will for her to break.
She had tried, but she had only gained a rejection and an wound.
She promised herself that she would never let herself be blinded by jealousy to the point of seeking a direct confrontation with him with the certainty of coming out as winner.
She wondered if it was Riven's real intention to harm her, leading her to kick back; if her deception had hurt him enough to make him want to see her dead, and what his feelings would be once he accomplished that; and if he ever managed to forget her, as he claimed it was his intention to do.
Still with anger in her body, she followed her sisters on the way back to the battlefield that awaited them.
Her thoughts continued to swirl in an infinite circle without ever reaching an answer.