Eliza In The Flesh!: the call of godspawn. III

It was uneven at best, cheating at worst. In her defense, it was hard to duel trying to wield a sword in one hand, and a magic rock in the other. Both her sabre and the girl’s… arms… clashed against each other, the psychic's extra limbs grabbed at the blade in an attempt to disarm her. A flick of Eliza’s wrist and a brief burst of orange and blue flames erupted from the stone, singeing the arms but enough for her to retract.

 

The floor beneath her began to rattle and like waves to an ocean, the floor shifted. She struggled to maintain her balance, finding herself at the top of the wave of wood before it crashed down, steepening. It sent her flying forward, her sword still in her hands. In the arm with her stone, small cracks began to form before widening abnormally faster than usual. Her usual display of soft, eloquent hands were instead replaced by a thin layer of charred dirt crumbling away to reveal coarser hands, blistered and roughened. 

 

She allowed the stone to dangle from her fingers as moved her body in time to avoid the stab of the toothed edged blades. It dug into the wood, and Eliza took this time to find her footing and raise her sword. The additional pair of arms caught it, and in the corner of her eye, she saw a piecrust table fling into her direction, colliding with her stomach. She was knocked to the side, losing her sword in the process as it clattered before the feet of the godspawn. The girl gave a horrifying giggle that echoed through her ears, like a collection of a crowd cheering in malicious joy.

 

Her body ached worse than she imagined. The rifts began to climb to her face now without a true reason to. She felt tired and weary, but lifted her head up regardless. The once empty room now was filled with aged, wooden furniture floating at the whims of the godspawn. Eliza grabbed her stone and held it firmly as she stood to her feet. “You are a bull-headed one,” the girl commented with annoyance but still kept her grin. “You cannot win against the conquer of death.” 

 

There was an old saying she once heard along the lines of: “Where there’s wood, there’s fire.” Or maybe it was: “Where there’s smoke, there’s fire?” Eliza looked up at the mass amounts of flammable objects and decided “nah, it’s probably wood.”