The Emerald

Luckluster slid his steel blade along John’s. “I warned you to stay away from Evie and Elizabeth.” Luckluster took a step back. “I knew nothing good would ever come of it.” He lunged at John. The battle had begun. “It be yer magic that killed Evelyn, mate. It be yer own doin’ that made her suffer and die,” stated John. Luckluster’s rage became a hard fire pulsing through his veins, his eyes as determined as Satan’s before his next possession. Each thrust was quick and hard. “Killin’ me won’t save her, Thomas. She’s already dead.” Luckluster flushed with rage, then plunged his sword deep into John’s non sword arm. He pulled it free, smiling smugly at the damage he had caused. Blood dripped down John’s arm onto the cavern floor. He glared at Luckluster with renewed hatred in his eyes. “I always was the better swordsman.” Luckluster grinned. Once again their swords were at the ready. Luckluster hopped on top of a large rock and poked at John below him. He stopped to watch John run up the circular cavern ramp carved into the sides of the cave. “Why did ye do it, Thomas?” asked John as he jumped from a higher cliff side to join Luckluster on his large rock. “What?” John applied thrusts and charges, advancing himself along a thin layer of rock, and forcing Luckluster to retreat. John had him backed up against the wall. “Why did ye force Evelyn’s magic to destroy her? She never did anything to ye.” Luckluster underhanded him, throwing John off balance by switching the direction his sword swung. Using his other arm, Luckluster shoved John to the ground and whirled around to regain his position. “Because she deserved to suffer like I did for unrequited love. I suffered every time her image filled my mind, her voice sounded in my ear. It was pure and simple agony.” Thomas rushed at John with a full out lunge aimed straight for the stomach. John slipped out of the way, knocking Thomas on the back of the head with the hilt of his sword. He picked up the bewildered man and slammed his back against the cavern wall. With the point of his sword, John drew a little x on each of his enemy’s cheeks, causing blood to trickle down his face. “I hate ye,” John whispered savagely. His eyes took on a wild, crazed look. “I sat by her bedside and watched her writhe in agony as she waited fer merciful death to come. Little by little ye made her so weak she couldn’t even sit up or move. Until the force of yer supposed love drew forth her last agonized breath.”