Bloodflowers Bloom (The Astral Wanderer Book 2)

He held his weapon up and was able to deflect a blow from the alpha, but the impact dislodged the blade from his hand. With a desperate twist, he ducked under the beast and out of the den, but the creature plunged one of its blades into the ground and spun it to launch itself toward him and drive him off his feet.
“Devol!” both Jazai and Asla cried as the creature reared to kill the young swordsman. Even with death so close, however, Devol saw an opportunity. He held one of his arms up, seemingly to stop or slow the blow that arced toward him but instead, a flash of light emitted from his hand and the flayer’s attack was stopped.
His teammates gaped at his blade that now protruded from the neck of the monster, having teleported back into his hand in time to deliver the blow. He tightened his hold on his sword grip and used vis to sear into the neck of the beast. It uttered one last, muffled shriek as he sliced through its neck and released a spray of blood from the staggering creature before it had a chance to behead him.
The flayer gurgled and its eyes narrowed as it began to twitch from the strike. Even with its enhanced regeneration ability, the wound was too deep to recover quickly. Jazai hurried forward and used a pulse to push it off Devol.
Asla managed to cut herself out of the goop the flayer had surrounded her with a second later. She vaulted onto the back of the beast, her claws raised. They shone with orange light and she swung them decisively to finish what Devol had started and sever the alpha’s head in one swift motion. The creature’s body immediately collapsed and she bounded off it as Jazai pulled Devol away before it could fall on top of them.
The three friends, ragged and with various wounds, looked at the corpse with disdain before the realization of their accomplishment dawned on them.
They had finally felled the alpha despite its enhanced capabilities.

Chapter Five
As reality began to sink in and the adrenaline started to wind down, Devol collapsed onto his back with a contented sigh. “Man. It’s a good thing I knew about the weak point around the throat, huh?”
Jazai moved to examine a piece of the flayer that had been cut off during the attack. “I think you’ll find that the throat is a weak point for most living things.” He picked up a shell-like piece and studied it closely. “And it is more likely that you were able to fell the alpha thanks to your sword itself rather than swordsmanship.”
He rolled his head to look at his friend. “What do you mean? The teleporting trick I did?”
The diviner shook his head and tossed him the piece he had been focused on. “That was neat but think about who you are talking to.”
Devol caught it, removed his glove, ran his hand over the shell, and realized that it was a hardened piece of the carapace. “Is this from its back?”
“Nope. I saw it come loose when you cut into its throat. This was protecting the trachea,” the scholar stated and knelt beside him. “Your majestic is a powerful sword, far beyond an ordinary magic sword. Do you think you would have had the power to cut through that on your own from your prone position?”
Asla knelt on the other side and poked the shell. “The skin on the back of its neck was tougher but it did not have this shielding,” she told them and tapped it thoughtfully. “I would think you would have to break it open with a blunt weapon first. Blades would only scratch it.”
Devol looked from the shell to his majestic. “So you think this was due to the power of my majestic?”
The other boy nodded. “If it helps your ego, I’m sure it helped that you had the strength and intelligence to swing the blade in the right direction.”
He frowned at his friend’s sarcastic comment before he scrambled to his feet and threw the shell to one side. “Okay, I can’t be too mad. It was certainly helpful to learn something new about the sword.” He held the blade up for a moment and focused on the dancing light within it. “I guess it didn’t register since it didn’t brighten all that much.”
“Well, you were preoccupied at the time,” Jazai reminded him as he retrieved a small towel from his pouch and handed it to Asla. She accepted it gratefully when she realized she was still covered in some of the flayer’s spit.
Devol nodded, sheathed his sword, and sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. “I suppose it is simply another thing to ask them about when I see them again.”
“Who is them?” Asla asked curiously as she rubbed the towel along her arms.
“My parents,” he told her as he walked away and pulled a brown sack from his pack. “But that is something for later. We should bag these heads quickly so we can start heading back.”
Jazai nodded in agreement and fumbled in his coat for a bag before he glowered at the alpha’s head. “I don’t think any of us has a bag to fit that. Does anyone want to shove it into their backpack?”
Asla unclasped her cloak, shook it out, and handed it to him. “I believe we can bundle it in this.”
“Are you sure, Asla?” the diviner asked as he took it tentatively. “I doubt that what will be left on it will wash out.”
“I don’t think any of this will,” she remarked and gestured at her clothes and the grime and spittle still covering it. “I am likely to simply burn it all.”
Jazai looked at the sticky yellowish liquid and made a slightly disgusted face. “That’s probably the right choice,” he conceded as he spread the cloak gingerly on the ground.
“I’m not sure if the two we burnt will count,” Devol called as he used a