She was alone once again and this time, two deadly enemies were standing in front of her. But instead of worrying about her own safety, Chell felt more concerned for the thief.

    She knew that she could not do anything to help him right now, not with two hunters keeping her occupied. The best that she could manage in her current situation was to quickly defeat them both and hope that Noct would be able to survive long enough for her to get to him. The thought made her slightly worried. She remembered the conversation they had within the cell hours before, where the thief had accused her of everything that happened. She knew he was wrong, but also partly right. If he died, then a part of the blame would surely fall on her. Chell did not want that.

    I need to hurry.

    Right now, she did her best to control her breathing as she trained her eyes back at the tattooed hunter, narrowing them slightly. She ignored the throbbing pain in her wounded arm and clasped the skull more tightly in her grip. She could still feel it providing her mana, stabilizing her. It was waiting for her call for awakening, quiet and powerful. Ready to serve her at any notice.

    "Finally, we can have this dance just by ourselves." The tattooed hunter cooed, smirking. He raised his sword and flicked the blood that had been stained on the metal at the alley wall. A few ways behind him, Ildan, the indigo-haired hunter, shook his head, but readied his own sword. He muttered something under his breath that Chell could not quite catch.

    "Little girl, do make me entertained," the tattooed hunter said, grinning sinisterly. The evil glint in his eyes were still there, still hungry for blood. Her blood. "I would hate it if you died too quickly, you know."

    She did not answer. The hunter did not wait for her to give one. He sauntered forward again, cackling aloud. He slashed with his blades, twisting them both in a quick, deadly arc. Chell, who this time was on her guard, breathed in for a slight moment. Then, she readied herself for what she was about to do. Seconds before the blades hit, she called out to the catalyst, to the skull held within her hand.

   Chell felt it immediately—the influx of mana pulsing from the hollow bone. This time, it was not simply stabilizing her. It was feeding her more power, a seemingly inexhaustible amount of mana beyond compare. The skull instantly glowed a dull color of white, elevating itself up into the air and taking its place above Chell's shoulder. This time, as she gave another breath out, she felt her senses sharpen. She was more aware of all that was happening around her now.

    Before the blades could hit their mark, a wall of hard ice materialized from the ground to protect her. The hunter's blade clashed onto the hardened surface, breaking immediately into two and rendering his weapon useless.

    "What in—?" he gasped, backing away instantly. His expression was etched with wide surprise as he held out the remains of his right blade, which merely consisted now of a hilt and a broken, jagged blade. Nothing but a useless weapon. "But this... This was the highest grade of steel in the market!"

    Kshk!

    Another wall of ice protectively rose up beside Chell as a second blade attempted to strike her. She turned to see Ildan click his tongue in indignation and pull his weapon away. He had tried to strike while she wasn't paying attention, although it had failed. He grit his teeth. "The ice is...!"

    "Aaargh!" The tattooed hunter screamed in fury as he raised his other blade, quickly surging forward. Chell promptly raised her hand in response. Three icicles materialized from thin air above her head, each one an arm long. Their pointed ends glinted sharply, emanating a thin veil of cold vapor. She brought her hand down. The icicles heeded her command and sailed towards the hunter, moving so quickly that he didn't have any time to react and dodge away. One stabbed deep into the shoulder that carried his remaining weapon, while the other two missed intentionally, zipping by close enough to qnick him. The hunter howled in pain, dropping his sword. Although it was not a mortal wound, it was painful enough. Chell had made sure not to kill him.

    "Don't forget about me!" The other hunter suddenly charged at her in a burst of quick speed. Chell willed the other two icicles towards him, gesturing with her fingers in a quick flick. However, just inches from being stabbed, the hunter quickly dodged. He slid down on the ground, evading the attack. Chell blinked in surprise as he stood up and quickly closed their distance. She had not expected him to dodge.

    "The money's mine!" he said in glee, noticing her surprised expression. He grinned in triumph as he brought his sword down at her. She knew he was most likely thinking that he had won the fight after breaking through her defenses. But his happiness only lasted for a moment, though, when he realized what happened a second later. Chell had stopped the edge of his blade by simply touching it with her finger.

    He gasped, clearly not expecting the witch to stop his attack so effortlessly. Then, his eyes widened as lines appeared on his sword from where she had touched it. A crack. It webbed and expanded, spreading over the entire metal before it broke into discarded pieces at his shoes.

    Ah... It's still there, Chell thought.

   She took a few tentative steps back to distance herself away from him. Then, she flicked her hand again. At his feet, a layer of ice rose quickly from the ground and consumed his legs, restraining him in place. Ildan gasped loudly, letting go of his sword hilt as he felt the cold and frost creep up, immobilizing him. He squirmed and tried to get away as the ice spread upwards his entire body, deliberately freezing his legs, his chest, his arms, his shoulders, until Chell commanded it to stop just as it reached his chin.

    Behind Ildan, the tattooed hunter suddenly stood up, wheezing heavily. He took hold of his unbroken scimitar and raised it with a shaky hand. The icicle was still protruding from his shoulder like an awkward horn, where trickles of blood pooled quietly from the wound.

    "I... will... kill..., " he heaved, his eyes unfocused.

    With an unchanged expression, Chell clasped her hand into a tight fist and willed the icicle on his shoulder to spread over his body. It obliged, losing its solidity and extending its cold grip over to his arms and neck, moving like a quick plague that threatened to overtake his body. The tattooed hunter screamed in panic and agony as the ice crept over his face and his wound. Just a little before it reached his knees, Chell willed it to stop. The tattooed hunter swayed in his feet, the weight of the ice causing him to topple over on the hard ground. He ceased to move after that, unconscious either from the pain or the frost.

   It happened so quick. Too quick. They were weaker than she thought. Or maybe, rather, it was because Chell was simply too powerful. The difference of their level in skill was obvious. It had not even taken Chell a fourth of her power to defeat them. To her, it was not even considered a fair fight. At first, Chell had initially thought that they were on par or even greater in skill than Worick, but she could see clearly now that their brazen words were merely just bluffs. They had underestimated her. In the end, they were just simply lacking in skill. Chell had faced and triumphed over many hunters who were far stronger than them.

    "... -ow Witch," Ildan murmured quietly under his breath, snapping Chell from her thoughts. She turned to him. More loudly, he said, "You're... The Snow Witch."

    It was not a question. Chell looked at him, her silver eyes shining bright in the alley's semidarkness. She did not deny nor confirm it. Finally realizing this fact, his eyes widened as Ildan began to fumble with his next words, teeth chattering in the cold and his tone faint and full of fear. "Please... F-Forgive me. I didn't know it was you... Please. Please don't kill me. I promise, I won't harm you again, I'll never show myself in front of you again! Please, mercy! Mercy!"

    Chell stared at him silently, at his pathetic and desperate pleads, her usual face devoid of feeling. How easy it was, she thought, to kill him right then and there. Humans were so fragile for her after all.

    Just one touch, and he would die.

    From the very beginning, she had never liked witch hunters. Their kind were known to be evil, malicious, and merciless towards people like her, the Witchfolk. And it was true, they killed witches and wizards mostly for the sake of money and fame, the way Worick did. To her, they were the worst kinds of humans. A surge of anger came over her. At the back of her mind, Chell thought how unfair it would be for her kind that had fallen by their hands. To give them a mercy they did not earn when they had not given it to the others who did.

    Chell moved slowly towards the hunter, who was still pleading for her to spare his life. But she wasn't listening. There was a small, incessant voice at the back of her head that told her to stop, yet her body moved otherwise, as though it had taken a life of its own. She raised her bare hands and reached out to try and touch the hunter's face, hypnotized by a sudden urge. Inches before she did, however, she suddenly remembered a memory.

   The image of a small boy came to her mind. White haired and silver-eyed, like her. The boy was widely grinning in the middle of a meadow, finding something amusing with what he saw before him. Holding out a small, welcoming hand, he laughed to her.

   "No matter what happens, we shouldn't take a life, Chell. Don't ever forget that, okay?"

   She froze, regaining her sense of self. Chell blinked a few times, realizing what she was about to do and retreated her hand, her heartbeat pounding in her chest. The hunter was still pleading desperately, muttering indecipherable words. Slightly, she shook her head. What had she been about to do?

   She waved her bare hand over his face, muttering a single spell. "Slumber."

   The hunter's eyes immediately rolled up. His head drooped to one side.

   She stood there for a few seconds in the silence of the alley, examining her hands as she spread her palms before her. She felt a feeling of dread.

    I... I just tried to—

    "You could have chosen to kill him, you know." A voice suddenly said this, interrupting her thoughts and startling her. Chell immediately turned around to the source of the sound and saw someone standing in the shadows. She focused her eyes to see him better. It was a young man. There was a unique atmosphere surrounding him, unnatural yet familiar to her. It took her a few moments before she realized what it was. What he was.

    A spirit of the deceased. The young man was dead.

    A red and gold mask covered one side of his head. He tilted it, and raised a gloved hand to point down at the alley where Noct had disappeared moments before. He looked at her quietly. Chell stayed quiet, unable to believe what she was seeing. She had thought, after all, that they had disappeared forever and would never come back.

    Silence passed. Finally, the dead decided to open his mouth to speak, smiling a little. But the words he said were not what Chell had expected to hear. With his voice faint and far-away, he told her, "... The reason why we led you here to Uldard. It was Noct."

    Chell was taken aback. "... Noct?" she repeated quietly. "But... why?"

    His smile merely widened as an answer, staying silent. His eyes glowed in a way that seemed to be saying he knew something she didn't. Something he did not want to say.

   "Take care of yourself... our Snow," he murmured instead.

   When Chell blinked a moment later, he was suddenly gone, as if he had melted into the shadows. There were not even any traces to indicate that he had ever been there in the first place. The dead boy had disappeared as quick and sudden as he appeared.

----> thank you for reading!

Q:
What do you think about Chell's power?
Who do you think is the boy from her memories?
Who do you think was the spirit that spoke to her?