The darkness of closed eyes drove a pang of fear through the young Vigilant's heart as she held close to the maimed Hightower Commander. The man slumped briefly under her arm and she rattled him gently, murmuring with her fellow guardsman- and cousin- to the injured man between them. Beneath her legs, she could feel the trembling Northerner that had gone from a brave man threatening a god to a fearful child that had dove to hide on the floor in front of her pew.
The ghostly woman not far in front of the Half-Ithanian laughed eerily, her voice singing the gruesome rules of her game, and before long, a lonesome and frightful scream from a man filled the Holy Cathedral. At the shrieking, Juliette leaned slightly against the Hightower besides her, her right arm still firmly over his shoulders, as she went sickly pale. The Arken called another round and more screams and sobs of pain slowly filled the air as more were struck by blades, and one scream stabbed a shiver down her spine. It took biting her lip until blood drew to avoid shouting out for her cousin as he howled like a banshee in the night, warning of coming demise. Despite the horrors around her, Juliette's remained shut against the world around her. With a ghastly and unseen smile, the ghost woman sang over the banshees of the Cathedral, "One more round."
A moment passed after her words before the pressure from the other Vigilant, her own cousin, lifted and she was left alone to support the dying Commander under her arm. Twin cries of suffering cut through the panicked air of the church and a moment more passed before steel seared through Juliette's thigh, her own screams weaving into the panic that filled the house of the Spirit.
Her eyes squeezed shut farther as she lurched forward with her own howl, the suffering Hightower falling forward with her as he was at the mercy of the world. The pressure from her leg lasted a moment more before the blade was roughly ripped free and the sound of metal crashing to the floor resounded through the Cathedral as the weapon was tossed away from her attacker. She could hear a shout of her name from the man under her feet though it was lost on her as she fell back against the pew, pressing her free hand to the bloody wound in her thigh. She could hear the quiet and mournful whispers of "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," come from her cousin as he took back his duties of keeping the handless stump of the commander's arm from bleeding out.
Juliette gave no reply as heavy rain and metal rained upon them and the demon departed with her bell-like laughter.
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