Chapter Text
Another Templar falls, and now their numbers are even.
Suga has never cast as many spells as today in his entire life at the same time. He feels the tiredness in his limbs, but also a sort of frenzy, a maniacal feeling that keeps him going. The way his magic heals and rejuvenate, the little smiles and nodes from his comrades, it’s all slightly euphoric.
He sends another wave of magic toward Asahi, who was bleeding a little from an injury at his hip. The Vashot acknowledges the healing with a small twitch of his head at Suga, then he lunges at the Templar before him. With a strength that’s raw power, he takes apart armor and flesh and bone, killing the man instantaneously.
“Go help Ukai!” Suga barks, pointing at the man that’s fist fighting on the ground with a Templar, each trying to knock out the other man. Asahi nods, running and following Suga’s order. He effortlessly kicks the Templar off Ukai, and slices him in half as if he were an apple. Suga stares for a moment, dumbfounded at Asahi’s skills. Despite his heart glass, as Daichi had called it, the guy could certainly fight.
Suga turns, focusing again on the battle. Daichi and the Templar Captain are dueling in the middle of the camp. Suga had been distracted when a second sword had found its way between the two of them, but he can see that Daichi’s using the Templar’s sword, while the other man has picked up another one, maybe from the man Suga’s killed.
“Suga! Some help here!” Suga jerks his head toward Lady Tanaka, who’s bleeding from her forehead, and dodging swings from the Templar she’s fighting against. It’s a superficial wound that’s probably more annoying than painful, so he heals it from a distance. The woman grins at him, gives him a thumbs up, and throws an hidden dagger at the man’s shoulder. He then spits blood, as a sword emerges from his chest. The sword disappears immediately, the man falls, revealing a bloody Michimiya standing behind him.
“Damn! I almost had him!” complains Lady Tanaka.
“Suga!” the mage heard his name again, and turns. It’s Daichi calling him, suddendly bleeding from a shoulder. “Get me a shield!” he orders, dodging another attack. “Asahi! Come here and do your job!” he keeps barking. He attacks again, more to keep the Templar away than to do any damage. Asahi immediately runs at him, attacking the man from below, but the Templar almost effortlessly pars it with his sword.
Suga checks the camp turned battlefield for a shield, and finds one, abandoned near Ukai’s tent. He speeds to it, avoiding for an inch the man that Shimizu’s trying to kill. He grabs the shield with both of his hands, as if it were a treasure, and flies back at the centre of the camp.
Asahi and Daichi are using a sort of combo, Daichi intercepting the blows, then moving aside, making space for Asahi’s attack. Suga’s eyes are untrained for war, but even he notices that there’s a sort of lag in the movements between the two, like a not so well oiled mechanism. Daichi lingers too much after receiving the hit, while Asahi waits exactly half a second too long before attacking. The pattern is also predictable enough, and the Templar seems to have grown accustomed to it.
“Daichi!” Suga calls, showing him the shield. Daichi looks at him for a second. He parries, leaves the place to Asahi, and races to Suga.
Daichi grasp the shield from his hands, just the quickest of glances as a thank, and goes back to Asahi, who has been driven in a corner in the split of second he has been left on his own. A hit from above is about to slice him from shoulder to waist, but Daichi puts himself between the sword and Asahi, shield high kept with his good arm.
The hit reverberates, the man’s body language betraying annoyance. Daichi sneers at him, and Suga feels kind of proud. Then his attention is brought again to his bleeding shoulder. Suga’s quick to heal it at the best of his ability, since it seems to need a calmer attention.
The shield helps Daichi and Asahi to be more synchronized, even though something seems still off in their movements. Suga sends another blessing, this time toward Asahi, who had started to pant heavily.
An arrow pierces the Templar in the back, unbalancing him a little, and it’s followed by a knife that knocks his helmet off.
“Whatcha ya say now, ya bastard?” Lady Tanaka bellows, a throwing knife in each hand, while Shimizu stands beside her with a bow and arrows. She loads another shot, aiming it at the man’s head.
The Templar looks around himself, and realizes that all his companions have died. He swears under his breath, eyes trying to find a way out. He turns toward Suga.
He’s about to say something, but he’s cut short by the arrow piercing his skull. His body falls on the ground, lifeless.
Suga watches it, with wide eyes. But the thought that crosses his mind has nothing to do with the grim scene before him. No, the thought it’s pretty selfish.
Does he have my phylactery.
There’s silence for a second in the camp, an unnatural stillness, broken by heavy panting and by Ukai’s grunts of pain at a bleeding nose and what looks like the opening of his wound. Dammit, Suga sees the blood from the bandage. It had healed, so why it’s bleeding again? Probably during the brawl one of the Templar had poke at it or something.
Daichi let’s the shield fall, as well as the sword.
“Is everybody all right?”
A weak chorus of “yes” rises, exeption made by Ukai’s barking.
“Nope! Didn’t I ask you to leave me out of this, Sawamura?”
Daichi rubs the nape of his neck, sheepishly. “Sorry about this, Commander. Things didn’t go according plan, I suppose.”
Ukai snorts. “Yeah, I guessed that much. That’s why you always have a back-up plan. Remember this for next time. Sugawara! Want to come here and take a look, please?” the question is half plead, half order, and Suga hurries to him.
“Search the bodies, see if they have anything nice on them.” says Daichi, looting the Captain’s body. After a little while, he shouts victorious.
“Suga! Suga!” Daichi calls, running toward him, shaking him by his shoulder.
“Daichi, wait a second, I’m trying to he-” his sentence his cut short by the item that Daichi shows him. Suga’s heart sinks in his stomach.
“It’s the phylactery.”
It’s a little hourglass, that instead of containing sand contains blood, his blood. Around it is a ring of gold, that allows the hourglass to move, not differently from the needle of a compass. Instead of pointing north, though, it pointed to the mage whose blood belonged to.
Suga leaves alone Ukai, much to his displeasure, and takes gently the little object from Daichi’s hands. It barely fills his palms, and it’s almost pretty, like a precious if a bit peculiar jewel. Suga stares at it, then he looks at Daichi, who’s smiling at him.
Suga crushes the phylactery to the ground.
Glass breaks his skin, piercing it, and fresh blood mixes with old one, that’s already starting to waste away. Suga pushes his hand on the broken phylactery, on the ground, almost as he’s feeding his own blood to the earth.
Suga feels an hand on his shoulder, and starts to silently cry.
Suga’s free.