Cyr grunted, coughing lightly. Still shocked from the experience. He held his chest, it felt like... HE was the one getting stabbed, the few moments of searing pain reminding him of his own mortality. It was terrifying.
He shook his head, thinking to himself. Get a grip! Gods, man. You're acting like a child.
He nodded at Niola, helping her up. A warm smile spread across his lips. He casted an eye to the academy, and blinked. Hearing the sounds of battle coming from it. He cursed loudly.
"Shit! They wen't back, didn't they?!" He asked, to no-one in particular. "Niola, c'mon!"
He began to sprint towards the academy. Blinking as a shard of ice landed infront of him. He looked upwards and blinked, there stood a young boy. He couldn't of been more than 11, but his eyes were white. Cold, malicous intent flaring within them. His silver hair was drawn upwards in a spiked fashion, and he radiated no emotion atall. The air around him even seemed colder. Cyr's eyes scanned to his neck. There was no lump.
"Tryin' ta' getsta' ya friends, huh?" He asked teasingly. His voice seemed playfull, yet deadly. They sliced into Cyr like daggers, venom dripping from his words. "I'ma 'fraid tha' big boss won't let that 'appen, so you betta' just give up!"
Cyr blinked in disbelif. He seemed powerfull, yes - but was he being trueley threataned by a child? Still, somthing seemed odd about him... Cyr approached with caution. Staring into those silver eyes. A killer's grin was spread across the child's face.
"Let us past." Cyr demanded, his eyes starting to boil up with rage.
"Hmmmm...." The boy taunted, mock-thinking. "Letme think... Nope!" The child chuckled, walking playfully towards Cyr. His eyes began to grow with malicous intent, his voice darkening. "Now, i'll take pleasure in removing ya' heads from ya' necks!"
Cyr grunted, avoiding a swipe. His head allmost severed by icey talons that came from the boy's hand. Distracted by Niola's presence - praying to god that she wouldn't get wounded. The boy allmost giggled, poking a curious head over Cyr's shoulder and grinning at the gril.
"Oooh, who's this - ya girlfriend?" The boy tauntingly asked. Cyr blinked, stammering and blushing furiously.
"S-She's not my girlfreind!" He said, fuming before shoving the boy away with a forcefull telepathic blast. His voice suddenly grew angry, it was dark - yet not evil. Full of rage, however - it was protective, allmost fatherly. "You lay one hand on her, and I will not hesitate to kill you."
The boy mereley chuckled, ice beginning to form around his hands, he quickly threw a shard at Niola, which Cyr managed to block. Grunting as it thudded into his arm, blood flowing from it. He looked up, growling allmost as his eyes began to turn red...
"You'll regret that..." He growled.
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