Chapter 25: Excalibur

                                    

                                          
"Ah!.. AH!" Camila continued yelling as she fought the vines. She was still standing strong, but her swings were getting wider, slowly... ever so slowly, getting lazier. Like last time, her human limitations reminded her that she was weakening, reaching her limit—one every single one of us had reached way earlier. Without even noticing, her mind drifted for just a tired, miserable second, allowing vines to pass her guard and reach her sister and Charlotte.
 "Fuck!.. no!.. Emi!" Camila yelled as she looked back at her sister.
     It was too late; she was too weak. It would take a miracle for her to reach her sister before she could be impaled. Before those savage vines reached her and ravaged her life. Again... we were done... Camila could only watch as her sister and Charlotte were seconds from disappearing from existence. I could only watch as the vines glided in a straight line towards them.
 "Emi..." I mumbled to myself, with what remained of my strength.
     My mind was about to give in to the sudden overwhelming need for sleep. I was tired as fuck. All of my stress was slowly being lifted away. It seemed almost as if I was back at home, in my comfy bed, ready to call it a night after saying good night to my parents and my brother. It was the perfect setting. I had even forgotten where I was, the sheer feeling of bliss and relaxation was intoxicating... so much so that I slowly succumbed to my exhaustion, and proceeded to close my eyes.
     I tried... believe me when I say that I tried, but I couldn't. A blinding light kept interrupting my beauty sleep.
 "What now..." I mumbled to myself as I opened my eyes, regaining consciousness.
     I was greeted by the sight of a ball of fire emanating from where Chase lay defeated.
     Chase had gotten up, standing with a commanding presence and overwhelming determination. In his hand, his scimitar emitted an immensely powerful blaze that shone all around us. It was as if night had never come. An artificially created sun shone with a powerful and immense glow, stopping every single vine in its tracks.
 "Argh!" the monster winced in pain at the sight of the blaze emanating from the scimitar. Chase remained there, with an intense look on his face, standing between us and the monster.
     The look in his eyes was unwavering. A man on a mission. A mission to protect those he calls his allies in this pitiful, broken ecosystem we have called home for quite a while. Gusts of hot wind danced around us in constant disdain as the fire surrounding Chase's scimitar grew with every passing moment. It was a sight to behold. History had taught of something quite like this—a blade held by kings, wielding magical, everlasting power in their hands, looking to quench this world of devilish opposition. For obvious reasons, these stories had eluded me up to this day. But who can blame me, right? I mean, who can blame anyone? These stories, across our lifetime, had often been believed to be events etched in the realm of fantasy, looking to romanticize a humanly limited story with beautiful grace. They help us remember it for countless lifetimes.
     It felt as though we were witnessing history. As if a book had come to life before our very eyes. What was once a fantastic fairy tale was now a real-life event, etched in stone. And little did we know... there was more to come.
     With the engulfing flames emanating from his blade, Chase remained still. He looked in our direction and at the monster occasionally, intently watching every second. Either to strike or to protect any one of us. In the moment, he seemed invincible, but we had forgotten. This was real life. The strongest of men can fall, the most intense of facades cannot stay up forever. And so, it seemed Chase was at his limit. He had called upon incredible strength for aid, but it seemed that he had pushed far beyond what his body was willing to take. The signs of tiredness in his eyes, the downpour of sweat over his body, and his open mouth gasping for air gave us a clear message: he was at his very end in expenditure. And the taxing effort he had put his body through was about to charge him tenfold.
     His eyes held a reddish hue, one which extended from the back of his eyes all the way to the front. On his neck, the sign of his tattoo had almost dissipated, covered by a crossed line that simulated a man-made cut. Mutilation in retaliation for this situation we were in. Maybe frustration? Hm... it seemed appropriate. But something was really off. His neck seemed more swollen than usual, as if a great amount of pressure had formed, causing the veins to bulge. The biggest ones were near the tattoo on his neck. What once simulated a Roman numeral one had turned into a sideways X. I could make sense of the same cut he had made over the tattoo, leading me to that conclusion. But what does it all mean? Surely the exaggerated manifestation of the veins in his neck near the tattoo, along with the glowing yellow line forming on top, had some sort of connection with the manifestation of the blaze around us. But it was a long shot to believe so.
     Even in the presence of supernatural occurrences, we humans tend to be skeptics, constantly finding ways to doubt concrete evidence, even if thrown in our faces. Regardless of anything—from the emanating heat of the flames around our bodies to the expression of aggressiveness and power on his face—time continued on. And on this chessboard, it was time to move.
     All this time, the monster had been kept at bay due to the light and heat. But, as we had mentioned earlier, the power proved to be too taxing for Chase, and his almighty ember had begun to dwindle. So much so, that the vine monster had started to regain his composure, slowly moving his vines away from his coverage and around us. I could see the slowly diminishing fire in Chase's blade continue to dissipate, and with it, his body as well. His breaths, with every moment, seemed harder, wider, gasping for air like someone who had almost drowned and was saved. He had yet to move, and even so, had kept the monster at bay, away from us as much as he could. I noticed that for a long moment, his eyes were dead set on the sisters, Camila and Emilia. He had managed to see Camila fight off the vines on two occasions—a few moments ago, and now. He had also seen how she moved about, her fighting style. She was graceful, nimble, and delicate in her step. Like a ballerina, coordinated and precise, attending to detail in every aspect. But as deadly as a praying mantis, looking at every angle to deliver a killing blow. This was what I had seen in her. I assumed that was what Chase saw as well.
 "Camila! Emilia!" Chase yelled in their direction as he continued to struggle to stand upright.
     At this point, the vines had almost begun to move again in our direction, looking to trap us once more.
 "Chase?" Camila and Emilia replied almost in unison.
 "You girls are ready! It's time!" Chase replied, raising his voice.
     We were met with a collective look of confusion and bewilderment as we stood surrounded by the vines, trying to make sense of the words Chase had just spewed out.
 "It's time?... Time for what? What ARE they ready for?"
 "I-I don't understand..." Emilia said as she got closer to her sister, feeling the immediate closeness of the vines yet again surrounding them.
 "What the fuck are you talking about?!... Now's not the time for nonsense, Chase!" Camila said, covering her sister with one hand, holding one of her knifes in the other.
 "I know it sounds strange... but please trust me. Our lives depend on it..." Chase replied to the already skeptical girls.
     He didn't make much sense. But as we all knew, time was almost up, and the situation was slowly getting worse. If anything, it wouldn't hurt us any more than we already were to sit back and watch as Chase directed his voice towards the sisters in hopes of survival. His goal? We were soon about to find out.