Her strike landed true and the garden shears snapped shut as Engel was pushed back. Lyra was well aware of the cold steel snapping shut and the warm blood that formed over the thin red line the scissors had left in their wake, but she had more important matters to attend to: revenge on Astor and Alvina's behalf. Lyra got back onto her feet and found herself staring into Engel's dark and arrogant gaze. He was standing right by the fountain, palm outstretched and shears ready.<br/><br/>He wasn't moving. She'd expected the noble boy to rush her the moment she'd gotten free. He was waiting for her to come to him wasn't he? As angry as Lyra was, she refused to run straight into some trap he'd laid out for her. "Are you just going to stand there, Geslack? I always thought of you lot as snakes, but never cowards. I supposed you'll be the first." When he continued to remain in place, Lyra scowled and lifted her rapier into the air. She focused before flicking her wrist to the left. Water tossed and turned within the fountain before a burst of it was sent rocketing out of the fountain and toward the immobile Geslack. With another flick of Lyra's wrist, the water would have hardened into a deadly blade of razor sharp ice. She didn't have the time to do that... the rot had already spread.<br/><br/>It were as if the strength had been siphoned out of her veins. Lyra stumbled forward, nearly falling to her knees but managing to remain upright. It was getting difficult to breath and a force had grabbed hold of her throat, squeezing until she felt the last slivers of strength ebbing away. Lyra fell to her knees as she began to cough. The dreaded blood cough. Engel had her where he wanted her and was mocking her for it. The fear that had crept into her turned into rage.<br/><br/>Lyra's weakened hand reached for her rapier. With the last of her strength, she pushed herself back up to her feet and charged at him. The water that had sloshed onto the ground rose in icy spikes in hopes of impaling the noble boy's feet.