Snippet #2260409

In the heat of battle, many things cross a man’s mind. It is in fact the details that he remembers the most. The weather of the moment, the chill of the wind… The scenario gets stuck in his mind, and these memories last much longer than those of the battle itself. It was the will of the Norns, the spinnerets who rule the fate of men, that made Tekil notice a glow inside of the beast while Slagænde’s steel clashed with the unnatural energies of the Lost. Tekil gasped when he saw the thing that pumped like a human heart, and hesitated for a split second, but a split second was all the monster needed. It suddenly gathered strength and pushed the Dane, making Tekil trip and fall on the ground. He blinked, glanced at Quest and tried to tell him to run away, but something moved fast in his peripheral vision, and he had to look back at the monster that now prepared to impale Tekil with his long arm, sharper than any common blade.

But instead of flesh and bone, the arm found Slagænde’s steel, and the ancient sword was no common blade. The arm trapped Tekil firmly to the ground, and the monster tried now to shatter the blade in order to rip the Dane apart. Feeling all of the supernatural strength of the monster, Tekil now shouted to Quest:

-Quest, run! – Another assault made Tekil grunt – Save yourself!

Tekil knew he would not last for long under the incommensurable pressure the Lost now applied. Even though Slagænde would never break, the Dane’s bones eventually would, and then he would be useless and an easy target. He prayed to every god his ancestors worshipped that the others managed to get there in time, and then made sure he was holding the sword’s grip strongly, for only those who died with a sword in hand get to experience the pleasures of Valhalla.

With each strike, Tekil saw the gleaming heart of the creature there, pumping, exposed. However, he could never strike it in the position he was now, trapped against the dirty floor of the warehouse. He shouted again, wondering if anyone could hear him at all over the sound of metal clashing on metal:

-The heart! Strike the heart!

Another assault made Tekil’s entire body shake, and he held Slagænde’s grip firmly once again.