The shields moved to his defense, but Brand used his shield magic to protect them as a snake of lightning magic crashed at his feet. No one else could hear the wails of the weapons as they clashed, their cries as they were nicked, bent, and cracked, nor their death throes as they crumbled or their wielders perished. It was too much for him, but without the weapons, he was wide open as too men moved in to execute him. 
Brand called to the flames of the forge, and they whipped between them to push the men back, but it was only a temporary stop to their assault. It resumed as soon as his flames fell, and he was unable to reach for more before he was ducking their blows and spinning to get away. It backed him into the men fighting, and he called to his hammer as the two dashed together. With a low dive, he extended the handle of his hammer to smash the mallet into one of the man's knees, and he went down howling as the other stabbed for Brand. 
The blade found purchase in his shoulder, digging and slicing deep before sliding off, and Brand stumbled onto his behind. It put him at the man's feet, and the rebel raised his hand for magic rather than put himself at risk by going for him with a weapon. It was a difference of a few seconds that Brand was able to raise a flimsy shield of magic to protect himself, but the attacking spell never fell. 
Blood splattered Brand's chest, dripping through his shield meant only to stop magic, and his hands shook as his attacker's head rolled off of his shoulders. And it was not the only one. Chains whipped through the air around him, slicing and dicing anyone who didn't duck in time. Once they'll felled their targets, they dragged back to their source leaving trails of dark blood to direct all to their imminent deaths. 
The chain wielder stood in the middle of the mess, wearing a mask that Lyra had described to him once before. The left half a jester in white with golden tears dripping down to its chin, and the other a beast in obsidian with fangs and horns. This was The Fool, and his arrival changed the direction of the fight completely. 
The Zero commanders moved at him in an instant, general class mages who were nothing to sneer at, but The Fool wasn't human. Several Zero came at him at once, swords, daggers, and spells in hand, but The Fool paid no attention to any of them. A blade fell on The Fool from behind, and his arm moved like it was a doll's, twisting around and stabbing behind him in a way the joint couldn't naturally move. It clacked back into place like the joint had popped in and out and sliced the man ahead of him as The Fool spun. 
More rebels replaced the ones felled, but they were as successful as the first. They couldn't predict The Fool's movements when his momentum said one thing and his joints another. His body twisted and warped like a marionette from hell at some times, and other times his body worked together, all with no indication of when. And then there were the chains. They sliced into flesh when The Fool moved, maiming and killing his attackers as well as hunting those who were losing the will to fight such a beast. 
The lesser Zero mages fled as their ranks broke, but the chains gave chase, grabbing their ankles and twisting their legs until they were unable to stand. All they could do then was crawl, tears soaking their faces as The Fool focused his attention on the strongest who had yet given up. They did not last long, though they also did not perish. As The Fool went, he snapped limbs and wounded, but kept the ones who had led the charge bound in chains to await a worse fate as he moved on to the rest. Each fell, begging for their lives or cursing the soulless monster as they gasped their last breath. 
Brand backed into the wall of the forge as the fighting dissipated, and the world spun as he sank to the ground. His hand was wet, and he looked to his stomach where a blade had slashed it open. When had that happened? Everything had happened too quickly, and now that the adrenaline was waning, he was feeling how many times he'd been nicked and cut. 
The Fool's mask appeared in his face so quickly that his consciousness must have wavered for a moment, and he slammed his head into the wood behind it. That deranged hand reached out for him, and he whimpered as light magic spread across his body. It was more powerful than any he'd ever felt, but it sank to his wounds and stitched them closed as opposed to ripping him asunder. The man was healing him, which he could only do as a mage. Lyra had sworn The Fool was one of their kind, but the way he'd fought had been inhuman as was the thin veil of dark magic lining his body. 
A mage tied to a vampire. That was the only way he could be this powerful. 
Brand thoughts grew fuzzy as the Fool walked over to Rubble who was leaning against Ember on the ground. They were both wounded, and Ember said something about healing Rubble first, but the Fool ignored him as he extended a hand out to each of them. Unrivalable light magic soaked into both of them, healing their wounds, and Brand couldn't imagine how a man could have so much power. The Fool must be old as dirt, yet he held none of the pride for their kind that most veteran mages held. There had been no hesitance in cutting down those who had attacked Westport, yet he was caring enough to heal the injured left behind. 
The Fool left Rubble and Ember to approachseveral chained Zero commanders, and Brand was glad as his vision blackened andhe passed out. It was better than hearing their screams. 

****Brand survived the Zero attack, but just what will Lorenzo and Lyra find when they return? Thanks for reading! See you all next week!****

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