The Witch and the Lich; The Hall of Phantoms, Part Two

Credits; Krell,  Rea,

Krell wasn't leting anything stand in his way.  He couldn't move all that fast, but he was blasting walls down as he moved.  Rea was somewhere in there, and he needed to get to her before something happened to her.  He'd been attacked, but if they knew anything about her, and his assailant's comments led him to believe they did, then they wouldn't dare.  But if not an attack, then how would they attempt to best her?
He heard a man's voice ahead.  He considered his options and chose to round the corner and come in behind him.  As he approached he began to hear more clearly. 
"..Nothing but a child.  Look at yourself, you're supposed to be the most powerful assassain in the universe and you can't even drive.  How you thought you'd ever have a..." 
Krell had heard enough.  He tapped the man on the shoulder.  No sooner did he see an illusion of himself than he struck him across the chin.  The man recoiled and Krell cast him across the room.  He snapped as the man struck the far wall and the black stones shot forth and caught him, holding the imposter in place.  Krell looked down at Rea while the man panted heavily, having lost his wind when he struck the wal.  She was sobbing quietly, slumped against the wall.  He could feel his soul burning with anger.  How dare this man take his guise and call his companion a mere child.  It may have been true, but she was his companion and it was no man's right to belittle her. 
"You!"
"You're supposed to be dead.  How did you get in here?"  His voice still came from the imposter's lips.  It only made the fury grow all the stronger to see himself so abused.  But abusing him was only foolhardy, abusing Rea was abominable. 
"I let your companion go because she was just doing her job.  But you, even a simple-minded grunt knows better than to abuse a girl like that.  You did this because you were afraid of her.  You know that she could beat you with her eyes closed so like a coward you sought to slay her with only your words."  The cautious priest was buried deep, and only his justified rage remained.  "You sniveling coward, you rot-gorged flyspawn, you are the just the sort of scum real men wouldn't stoop to scrape from their shoes.  But you had to pick her apart, find her fears and her worries and like the schoolyard bully you are you had to make her cry."  Krell set his Grey skeletal hand to the man's chest and leaned in.  "When your shade issues forth, find me so I can enjoy this a second time.  Touch of Ash."  The man was dead, but he punched the sooty remains before turning back to his weaping companion.  She shook lightly, and for all her usual boisterousness and loud speech she cried in relative silence.  He leaned down next to her and brushed her hair out of her eyes.  He saw something on the ground by her leg and picked it up.  She wore contacts, and while he was no expert they seemed fairly strong.  All this time she'd been adventuring and she could probably barely distinguish between the tiles she sat on.  He conjured a cleaning solution and set the transparent lenses in it before pulling out a handkerchief.  He handed it to her and paused before speaking. 
"Are you all right?"
"I-I..."
She wiped her eyes with one corner before blowing her nose.  "I just couldn't.  It wasn't you..but..He knew my name.  He sounded like you, and..and he knew everything.  It was Hor-Horr-rible!"  She sobbed out the last part.  He hated to see anyone like this.  It was a little disconcerting to see someone so powerful reduced to tears by someone he'd killed so easily, but at the same time he couldn't imagine how much pent up stress and despair she had.  He tilted her chin up and she looked into the smoldering flames that were his eyes. 
"It doesn't matter what your name is, or what he knew.  He's gone now; it's just me.  And don't let anyone look down on you because you are young.  There are women not even twenty years older than you look who wish they could look like you.  And there are grown men who wish that they could have done in their lifetime even one of the amazing things you do in a year.  You have the speed of the shadow, the grace of the wind, and the strength of a demon."
She continued to sob, but choked out, "But the w-ind is cl-clumsy."
"Yes, but it sounds nice when you say it that way." 
She shifted and set her head in his lap, still crying softly into his habit.  He chose to ignore it and waited patiently for her to calm down.