Dark Divide ✓ [WLW]

Chapter Two - Doom and Gloom

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"𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔?" Evylyn asked, barely able to whisper above the howling winds as the specks of dew covering the grass seeped into her skirt. Yet, despite her pitiful murmur, the man in front of her clearly heard what she'd said as he slowly tilted his head.

A taunting smile warped his lips as a shot of lightning cracked across the sky, illuminating his imposing figure as he curled his hands around the hilt of his sword. He stepped forward, and while Evylyn tried to scurry away, she was too slow–he yanked her back by the collar and kept his hold firm as his grin widened.

She couldn't bring herself to look him in the eyes, though she could feel his harsh gaze staring into her soul. Evylyn nearly whimpered, but restrained herself; she wasn't a fighter, but she was a mage. Escaping him could be easy, if she played her cards right. She'd done it before.

"Look me in the eye, girl," the man said, to which Evylyn discreetly curled her lip. He knew her name, but degraded her to that? When Evylyn refused to look at him, dipping her head in a defiant shake, he snapped her head so she was forced to face him. She met his cruel eyes and nearly shrank away.

She was not showing herself to be the strong woman she knew she was. Pretending to be a weak doe was practically second nature to her by now. Everyone believed a necromancer was only useful when they had runespowder on hand and rotting bodies on standby. But Evylyn was not a typical necromancer, and they'd learn that soon enough.

"My name does not matter," the man continued. "I am your judge, jury, and executioner, and that is all you need to know."

Evylyn nearly laughed at the ridiculousness of his statement, but she kept quiet.

"Now," he said, readjusting his sword so it pressed into the skin of Evylyn's neck, "how would you like to die?"

"There's a bounty out for me, isn't there?" she asked, wincing under his hold as he increased the pressure of his sword. She could feel her skin break, and the warm trickle of blood soon followed. Swallowing shakily, she did not let herself get distracted; after all, this man couldn't kill her, unless he knew how. "They're going to wonder if you really killed me. Why don't you take me back to your... your town, and execute me there?"

"Pathetic," Judge sneered. His lip curled before one side of his mouth rose in a sadistic grin. "I'll simply bring your head back. They'll believe me with the head of a defiant witch in hand."

"You can't kill me with a sword," she pressed, praying he would believe her. Though he truly couldn't kill her with a sword, if he tried, it would result in a very painful couple of hours for Evylyn. "I'm a demigod. It's impossible for you to kill me without the help of a deity or another demigod."

She knew telling him how to kill her was very risky, but if it meant she could buy herself time, she'd chance him coming back with an army later on. She could find herself her own skeletal army in a desolate graveyard in the middle of Fospyae to meet whatever forces this man could muster.

The Judge stilled, though his grip on his sword remained stalwart. A crash of thunder shook the ground as the sky lit up. "Who's to say I don't already have the help of a god?"

Though Evylyn did her best to show no physical reaction, it was clear she had exhibited some sliver of fear as a dark chuckle racked the Judge's shoulders. He pressed his blade further into Evylyn's skin, a sardonic spark lighting in his marmalade gaze as his lips stretched into a grin.

"Right," he cooed, voice low. "You're the famous and powerful Evylyn. No one can kill you, because you know death better than anyone. Sounds about right?"