If the Bloodletter hadn't first.
From out of the swirling fog, a ghostly figure appeared as if it had been formed of the filaments of moisture that rode upon the air. And the moment Xcor saw the specter, he narrowed his eyes, and relied upon his keen nose.
It seemed to be a female. Of his kind. Dressed in a white robe.
And her scent reminded him of something that he couldn't quite place.
She was directly in the path of his father, but she seemed utterly unconcerned about the horse or the sadistic warrior that was soon to come upon her. His sire was entranced with her, however. The instant he took notice of her, he dropped the human woman as if she were naught but a lamb bone he'd already chewed the meat off of.
This was wrong, Xcor thought. Verily, he was a male of action and power, and hardly one to shy away from a member of the weaker sex … but everything in his body warned him that this ethereal entity was dangerous. Deadly.
"Oy! Father!" he called out. "Turn about!"
Xcor whistled for his stallion, who came on command. Bolting into his saddle, he spurred his stallion's flanks, pitching himself headlong so that he could intersect his father's path, a strange panic driving him.
He was too late. His father was upon the female, who had slowly crouched down.
Fates, she was going to leap up onto the—
In a coordinated rush, she went airborne and caught his father's leg, using it as a way to vault onto the horse. Then, latching onto the Bloodletter's solid chest, she sprang off to the far side and took that male with her as one unto the ground, the mighty lunge defying both her sex and her wraithlike nature.
So she was no ghost, but flesh and blood.
Which meant she could be killed.
Whilst Xcor prepared himself to plow his stallion right into them, the female let out a yell that was not feminine at all: More along the lines of his own war cry, the bellow cut through the thundering hooves beneath him and the sounds of his band of bastards gathering themselves to counter this unexpected attack.
There was no immediate need to intercede, however.
His father, over his shock at being taken down from his saddle, rolled onto his back and unsheathed his dagger, the snarl upon his face like an animal's. On a curse, Xcor reined up and halted his rescue, for surely his sire would take control: The Bloodletter was not the kind of male you aided—he had beaten Xcor for it in the past, lessons that had been hard learned and well remembered.
Still, he dismounted and readied himself on the periphery in the event there were others of this Valkyrie's type in and amidst the forest.
Which was why he heard her say clearly a name.
"Vishous."
His father's rage segued into a brief confusion. And before he could resume his self-defense, she began to glow with what surely was an unholy light.
"Father!" Xcor yelled as he raced forth.
But he was too late. And contact was made.
Flames burst out around his sire's harsh, bearded face and they o'ertook his corporeal form as if on dry hay. And with the same grace with which she had taken him down, the female leaped back and watched as he frantically sought to beat out the fire, to no avail. Into the night, he screamed as he burned alive, his leather clothing no protection at all for his skin and muscle.
There was no way to get close enough to the blaze, and Xcor skidded to a halt, raising his arm afore himself and bowing away from the heat that was exponentially hotter than it should have been.
All the while, the female stood over the contorting, twitching body … the flickering orange glow illuminating her cruel, beautiful face.
The bitch was smiling.
And that was when she lifted her face to him. As Xcor got a proper view of her visage, at first he refused to believe what he saw. And yet the flames' glow told no lies.
He was staring at a female version of the Bloodletter. Same black hair and pale skin and pale eyes. Same bone structure. Moreover, the same vengeful light in her near-violent eyes, that rapture and satisfaction at causing death a combination Xcor himself knew all too well.
She was gone a moment later, fading into the fog in a manner that was not as his kind dematerialized, but rather that of a waft of smoke, departing by inches and then feet.
As soon as he was able, Xcor rushed to his father, but there was nothing left to save … barely anything to bury. Sinking to his knees afore the smoldering bones and the stench, he had a moment of deplorable weakness: Tears sprang to his eyes. The Bloodletter had been a brute, but as his only claimed male offspring, Xcor and he had been close.… Indeed, they were one of another.