GREAT NEWS, EVERYONE! THE SLIME IS…erm, rather…THE MUSE IS FLOWING AGAIN! Here is the promised prequel to Raki of the East, to both set the stage for the story and to help me re-do it, because my first attempt was less than fantastic. I admit, it was a rushed job. I had the basic idea, and ran with it before thinking about it. I shall not make the same mistake again! SO, without any further ado, let me present: the Claymore fanfiction Silver-eyed Angel!
SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA
Silver-eyed Angel
Chapter One
A New Adventure
SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA
The wind howled as impenetrable walls of snow swirled and flashed through the air, the unending onslaught burying anything and everything in its path beneath drifts as tall as a man. Animals hunkered down in their dens, either hibernating or, in some cases, waiting for the storm to end so that they might hunt. Trees creaked and swayed in the powerful gusts, and those that could not withstand the battering of Mother Nature broke before Her power and fell, the sounds of their deaths drowned away by the wind. A lone building stood strong amidst the storm. Large and well built, it had clearly been built by someone of importance, but now the gilded paints and the ornate carvings had all but vanished, worn away by the ravaging of time and the harsh winters of the North. Inside, however, was still in fine shape. Golden chandeliers adorned with crystals hung from the ceilings, candles in beautiful wall mounts cast a warm glow about the building, and magnificent paintings hung on the walls, along with shields, weapons, and other valuables. Raised voices could be heard arguing in the spacious lounge, where a fire crackled merrily in the large hearth, bathing the room in light and warmth.
"…really don't understand why you are so set upon this. Did you not understand what I said to you all that time ago? Claymore's are bad news, I know from personal experience." A tall and powerful man who looked to be in his mid 20's with hazel eyes and silvery-white hair was saying, sounding exasperated, from his seat in the plush armchair on the left side of the hearth
"And I told you then what I will tell you now, Isley. Clare saved my life, and I became friendly with Miria, Helen, and Deneve in the short time we knew each other. They are not like some of the others that you have met in your lifetime." A younger man replied with patience. Like his companion, he was tall and muscular, but had dark brown eyes and dirty blond hair. Like Isley, he was seated in a comfortable chair, though on the opposite side of the hearth. "They're as important to me as both yourself and Priscilla."
"You don't even know if they're alive, Raki! And if they are, then what? You know as well as I that Riful is trying to capture any Claymore that she can get her slimy tentacles on, and if they were sent to Pieta, they were "troublesome and rebellious" warriors. It was a suicide mission, and if they head south they would get killed on sight by the Organization!" Isley said, changing tactics and attempting to relate the futility of his young human friend's goal.
"I know, Isley, but I have to hope. Besides, I have learned everything you can teach me. It's time I used those skills for the right reasons." Raki replied gently, and Isley scoffed.
"Bah! You and your altruistic hero-complex. I still don't understand your obsession with helping random strangers for no gain, especially against Youma." He said, shaking his head, and Raki raised an eyebrow at him. Noticing the look on his young friend/protégé's face, Isley waved a hand in a throwing-away gesture. "I was a Claymore back then, I followed orders. While I was not paid, it was my job, not out of some misguided sense of desire to be a hero. Moreover, do not forget that it is the Organization, humans, that did this to myself, Priscilla, even your beloved Clare. They made us into this. Why help them prey on others?"
"You don't have any problems with me, despite the fact that I am human." Raki pointed out fairly. "Besides, I plan on convincing Clare and the other survivors to help me destroy the Organization."
"That's different, you're like a brother to Priscilla and myself. You don't see us as evil monsters, but every other human does." Isley said quickly, feeling the need to reassure the young human. Ever since he and Priscilla had met the boy, they had been acting and feeling more…human. It was disturbing, but he had yet to decide whether it was good or bad. He frowned as the rest of Raki's words registered. "Just how many survivors do you think there are, and what do you have against the Organization?"
"I appreciate that. I look at you as family as well." Raki replied softly, before shaking his head. "I think that there are perhaps twelve survivors in all, perhaps half the force. I do not know how so many survived your army, to be honest, but I am glad that they did. No offense."
"None taken, but you didn't answer my other question." Isley pointed out, and Raki frowned at him in response, crooking an eyebrow. "What is it you have against the Organization?"
"You, Priscilla, Clare, Miria, Helen, Deneve, Elena, and every other innocent used and abused by the Organization." Came the simple reply, and Isley leaned back in his chair. He supposed he should have expected that. Raki had a strong sense of justice, and the Organization was one of the most unjust things in existence.
"I do not suppose that you can be dissuaded from this path?" he asked finally, and sighed gustily when Raki shook his head again. "Very well then, when are you planning on leaving?"
"As soon as the snow clears in the spring." Raki replied, and Isley nodded slowly before standing and waling over to one of the wall displays, a pair of broadswords crossed under a shield. Reaching out, he pulled both out and turned, tossing one to Raki, who plucked it from the air with practiced ease. "If you're going to do this, I'm going to take things up a notch. Show me what you've got!"
Raki grinned and held his sword in his favored high-guard position as he prepared himself. Isley had taught him much about fencing, including the old forms that the first generation of Claymores had been trained in. Gradually, the practice had vanished into the use of unique abilities and brute force that were the modern tactics of choice in battle. He personally preferred to use the form of Cabur, or "Guardian" in his duels with Isley. The form focused on an impenetrable defense of oneself and one's allies. Isley, however, was a master of Adenn, "Merciless", a form of pure offense, designed to obliterate anyone or anything that stood against the wielder.
The pair stood facing each other for what felt like an eternity, before Isley moved, and their dance began. Blades danced in the firelight as they ducked and weaved about each other. Metal rang against metal in an endless cacophony, two faces never wavering from their opponents, two expressions never changing. Isley spun, a backhand stroke whistling towards Raki's ribs. Their blades clashed again as Raki spun his blade around, bracing it vertically against the back of his offhand's steel gauntlet to absorb the impact. Utilizing the force of the blow, Raki twisted his blade, knocking Isley's to the side and throwing an elbow at his face, which Isley's dodged with ease, before spinning around and send a blow of his own at the Abyssal's head. Bending backwards with an insane display of flexibility, Isley dodged the blow and, continuing his bend, used his hands as springboard to launch a kick into Raki's chin before using the remaining momentum to flip backwards to land back on his feet, settling his guard to await his protégé's return blow. Raki, grinning despite the developing bruise on his chin and the blood at the corner of his mouth, charged, bringing his blade flashing upwards in a blurring uppercut, which Isley sidestepped and parried. The young human dropped under his return swing and lashed a leg out, intent on sweeping his legs out from under him. He failed, naturally, as Isley blocked with his own leg and Raki rolled to the side as Isley swung at him. Popping back to his feet, he spun his blade around, Isley's meeting it with a clash, and twisted, locking the blade's together. Arms straining from the effort, the young human applied all the not-insignificant force in his body into an attempt to force Isley to his knees. Isley gave his own blade a complex twirl, disengaging and leaving Raki off balance, unable to block the backhand stroke Isley sent at his throat with incredible speed. The point of the Abyssal's blade stopped just kissing his throat. Raki lowered his sword, panting with exertion, and shook his head ruefully.
"Even after all this training, I still can't beat you when you fight on the level of a stronger than average human." He said with a sigh, and Isley lowered his blade with a small grin.
"True enough, my young friend, but by the time you leave here in the spring, I'll have you ready to take on a bandit horde singlehanded, and Heaven help any class 4 Youma that crosses your path." He replied, and Raki looked at him with something akin to horror.
"Why do I get the feeling that this is going to be very painful and will involve lots of swearing on my part, while you are going to enjoy it far more than you should?" he asked in trepidation, and Isley's grin grew wider, making Raki sigh resignedly. "Ah, hell. Here we go again."
SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA
Five months later, Raki stood before Isley and Priscilla again, his broadsword in its harness on his back, along with his bow and quiver, while his multi-pouch belt bulged with such things as tinder and a flintstone. A small pack, large enough to contain a change of clothes, rested beside his feet.
"Well, I guess this is goodbye for now." He said finally, looking at them both. He had no idea what else to say, really. He was never very good at goodbyes. His last one involved a kiss, but somehow he doubted that would be appropriate in this situation.
"Isley, I want to go with Raki." Priscilla announced out of the blue, making both males blink in surprise and look down at her.
"Are you sure, Priscilla? You'll have to avoid eating humans while you are with me." Raki asked, raising an eyebrow at her. "And Isley will be alone here."
"I know, but I want to see the south again. To see how it has changed." Came the matter-of-fact reply, and the Awakened Being looked up at Isley. "Isley is strong, he can take care of himself until I get bored of the south and return to him."
"Of course I can. I won't deny, it will be…strange to be alone again, after all this time with one or both of you for company, but I can handle it, I'm sure. Fare thee well, Raki. Take care of yourself." Isley confirmed, holding out an arm to Raki.
"Fare thee well, Isley. Stay safe until we return." Raki replied, clasping the older male's arm with his own. Hoisting his pack onto his free shoulder, he glanced at Priscilla. "Well, shall we go?"
"Yes, let us go. To the south." She replied with a small smile, and the pair headed down the trail at a steady pace, traveling cloaks rustling in the breeze.
SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA
A/N: That is the first chapter. Yes, it was kind of short. Please, read and review! I have no beta, so you have to tell me what you think needs to be edited!
Youma ranking system, from least to greatest
Class Four- regular, run of the mill youma. Strength varies some within this class, but never too strong for a single Claymore to overcome, unless the aforementioned Claymore makes a truly idiotic mistake.
Class 3- Awakened Beings from ranks 11-47. Requires a single powerful Claymore or a small group of average Claymore's to eliminate without much difficulty.
Class 2- Awakened Beings from ranks 1-10 of the female generations, or the majority of numbers from the Male generation, as the male Claymores were more powerful, but also more volatile. Blood Soaked Agatha would fall into this category, for instance. Would require a small group of skilled warriors or a large group of average warriors to overcome.
Class One- Also referred to as the Abyssal Class, only the Abyssal Ones fall into this category, and are far beyond the capabilities of any warrior alone. The concerted effort of a large group of skilled warriors would be required for the defeat of one, with heavy losses expected on the part of the hunters should they actually succeed. Riful, Isley, and Luciela fall into this catagoy.
Omega Class- not a technical class per se, it did not exist until the Awakening of Priscilla, the only known being more powerful than an Abyssal. As such, this Class was added onto the ranking system unofficially. Only Priscilla herself fits into this category.
SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA SEA
