Oblivion

by Kaen Okami

When her attack on Shibusen fails, Shaula is able to fake her death and escape Death City, but she still can't escape her fate. Rated for violence and character death.

"For the living know that they will die; but the dead know nothing, and they have no more reward, for the memory of them is forgotten. Also their love, their hatred, and their envy have now perished; nevermore will they have a share in anything done under the sun."

- Ecclesiastes 9:5-6

~0~

How did they do it...?

Her breath was ragged and labored as she fled Death City, running hard across the moors beyond the desert with one hand pressed against the gash in her right side to staunch the bleeding. Shame and rage flooded her with an intensity she'd never felt before. This was supposed to have been her day of glory - hers! - and it had ended not in her victory, over the gods and over every other witch, but with her utter disgrace and humiliation. It was completely ridiculous no matter which way she thought about it: her magic failing her at the most inopportune moment, her carefully laid plans being blown all to hell right before her eyes, and her being forced to retreat by a few insignificant NOT students, of all people.

How...?!

It was a mere miscalculation, nothing more, Shaula assured herself. Her hubris had gotten the better of her again, that was the problem. Easily understood and easily fixable. They were not stronger than her, nor was she so weak that the dregs of Shibusen had been able to get the better of her: she had only been caught off guard by a technique she had never seen before. She had thought meisters and weapons were entirely incapable of resonance on that level, as had the other witches and the servants of Death alike. Oh, there had been plenty of teams consisting of one meister wielding dual weapons in the past few centuries as the practice had been improved and refined - she'd heard rumors that Shinigami's spawn had recently begun to train with twin partners himself. But a lone weapon being successfully handled by two meisters at once was unheard of, and so it was quite reasonable that she hadn't prepared for it at all. Come to think of it, was it possible for a weapon to become capable of flight, or of altering their weapon form at will, before consuming a witch's soul (or any soul at all, for that matter), either? It seemed that these students, despite their lack of refined skill or combat training, possessed considerable raw strength and some unique ability not seen in any of the others.

However, that was no excuse for such carelessness. If she'd had the sense to just kill the weapon and second meister as soon as they'd come for Tatane, instead of wasting the prime opportunity to do so boasting and then leaving them alone with their friend, she wouldn't be in this situation. Or better yet, she could have had Tatane slice her own throat open while the other brats stood there and watched, as she'd threatened - that would certainly have taken away their special little advantage. Her master plan would have gone off without a hitch. Well, no, she had to admit, there were a few other ways it could have gone wrong: Shinigami deciding that the situation was desperate enough to merit his attention and coming into the fray himself wielding Death Scythe, for one thing. If he had managed to find her (or, more accurately, had been led to her by his soldiers capable of Soul Perception), she really would be dead right now. Even Arachne had been cut down by him.

At the thought of her sister, Shaula's face twisted into a grimace. If her elder siblings were here right now, they'd be falling over themselves laughing at her, mocking her mercilessly as they always had at even her most minor slip-ups. It wasn't as if they'd gone easy on her before their parents' deaths, but it was all she remembered for decades afterward: Arachne's constant subtle belittlements and obsessive need for control, Medusa's sharp tongue and even sharper strikes, and for her, no chance of change or escape. All things considered, Shaula counted herself lucky to even remember their parents, having been so young when they were killed. At the very least, she had had a few memories of them to hold onto, faint and blurred with so much time as they were...

"You came close that time. Can you show me once more?"

"I...I think so."

Concentrate, Shaula tells herself. Focus. Even after only a half-hour's training, her small body aches with fatigue, and she can feel a sheen of sweat on her forehead, but her magic is dancing in her veins and humming in her ears, clamoring for release, and she's eager to give it. She raises her hands in front of her face, angling them, her gaze locked on the target her mother has set up: a tiny red flag stuck in the crack between two rocks, about thirty feet away. The thin cloth flies in the strong mountain breeze, fully intact and untouched. She narrows her eyes at it - it won't stay that way for long if she can just once do this right.

"Venenum veneno, veneno venenum!" With the chant said, her palms warm as she creates the projectile in her hands again, the crimson tendrils of magic winding together into a near-solid ball of energy. Forming it has gotten to be the easy part - the difficulty is in keeping it together. Shaula aims at the target and prepares to let it loose, but Mama's voice from behind stops her.

"Wait," she instructs. "Don't let it go it so soon. Let it build up to full strength, otherwise it'll only fall apart again the second you fire. I'll tell you when to try again."

"O-Okay." It takes all of her effort, but she tries her best to hold the fist-sized projectile in its solid shape. She knows that the wait is only a minute, maybe two, but each second feels like eternity. When Mama finally tells her, "Now," it's an immense relief to let it fly loose. Even though she followed her mother's advice and so it's only natural that the results would be better, she still gives a start of surprise when it shoots, straight and fast as an arrow from a bow, across the clearing and blows the target away with a bang. She looks at the smoking wooden splinters and shredded cloth with wide eyes, her palms still tingling. Then her face broke into an elated grin. "Mama, look, I did it!" she says excitedly, whirling around to see her mother's reaction.

Under the heavy black hood of her cloak, the corners of Mama's mouth curve up only a little (normally the closest she ever gets to a real smile), but her gold eyes are warm and gleaming with pride. "Nicely done, amatissima," she says. "You learn well."

"Is that like what you do with your shadow bolts?" Shaula asks, remembering the times she's watched Mama training herself. Her siblings have seen their mother in battle, but she never has, as Medusa so loves to rub in her face.

"It's a similar attack, yes. I build up my magic and let it go the same way you just did."

"Can you show me?" she asks eagerly. "Can you hit something really far away?"

An amused noise escapes her mother. "I'd be happy to give a demonstration, if it will help you. Any target in particular you want me to hit?" She opens her mouth to answer, but Mama cuts in. "If you say your sisters, I'm not showing you anything."

"I wasn't going to say them!" she says indignantly. With that first idea vetoed, she turns around to scan the landscape for new targets. Her eyes light on a dark shape above them, drifting in slow, easy circles in the sky. "Can you hit that hawk all the way up there?"

Mama raises her eyebrows and looks up at the bird. "Easily. But I would prefer not to kill something that's not doing anything to me. It's not doing much of anything at all, from what I can see."

Shaula tries not to look disappointed. Mama does always say, never pick a fight without a good solid reason. She's such a powerful witch, but she lives by that rule, which doesn't often give her youngest daughter a chance to see the things she's heard from the others are so impressive. Apparently it extends to animals too. But if she had a reason...

"What if onii-chan ran into it, though?" she asks, genuine worry in her tone as she realizes that it actually does pose a danger to her adoptive brother. "Don't hawks eat ravens?"

Mama considers it. "Karasu is rather small," she muses, narrowing her eyes."And he's not much good at using our magic in bird form." It doesn't take her long at all to decide between preserving the life of the hawk, and eliminating a potential danger to her young familiar. "Stand back."

She obeys, and Mama takes on an attack stance, eyes locked on the wheeling bird - a tiny black spot against the pale blue sky. Black flamelike shadows swirl in her palm, condensing, solidifying, into a compact ball. She thrusts her arm out and up, and the deadly orb bursts from her hand. Unlike her daughter's raw and rudimentary blast of unrefined magic, this is a sniper's controlled shot, precise and strong and blindingly fast. It's all over in an instant, so fast Shaula just barely realizes what's happening: the shadow bolt strikes the hawk directly in the chest, and she stares at its body plummeting to the ground, so far away she can't tell at all where it landed.

"Was that helpful to you?" Mama asks, straightening up.

"Y-Yes..." She looks up at her mother with wide-eyed awe. "Am I going to do stuff like that someday?"

Another part-smile. "Of course you are. You are my daughter. Power, and the diligence to refine and augment it through training, is in your blood."

Power...

Memories flash in her head. The heavy words of her father, and the subsequent taunts of her sisters, ring in her head. "I'm going to be strong, right?"

Mama doesn't miss the worry, the desperation for a definite 'yes,' in her voice. "You will be. Any reason you're so concerned about it?"

She hesitates, remembering all the times she's ratted out her sisters and then found snakes in her drink and spiders in her bed. But then again, she has Mama and Papa and onii-chan. Arachne and Medusa are outnumbered. "Nee-san and nee-chan..." she says cautiously. "They told me...You know how Papa says that everyone needs to be strong to survive?"

"Yes..." Mama says slowly, in a tone that asks her to continue. They've all heard Papa's opinions on the world and how it works: Those with power rise over those without, and crush them from above. The weak cannot expect mercy or second chances. If they wanted to live, to not be destroyed, the only way was to be the strongest.

"Nee-san and nee-chan told me...They said that it means since I'm the weakest, they're going to live and I'm going to die!"

Mama's eyes narrow to golden slits. "They said that to you?"

"Yes!" she cries, remembering her older sisters' laughter at the idea. To her embarrassment, tears well up in her eyes and start to spill down her cheeks. "I'm not the weakest! I don't want to die!"

Her mother is crouching in front of her in a second, cupping her face in her hands and gently wiping the tears away. "Shh, shh, amatissima, it's all right," she soothes. "You're not going to die. And you're not at all weak. Your sisters are entirely wrong."

"But it's what Papa said!" she whimpers. The conviction in her father's voice had been unmistakable, and his already deep blue eyes had darkened to near black as he recalled the past that had given him his philosophy. Papa was much younger than Mama (though with immortals, age meant little in relationships), but he still had hundreds upon hundreds of years of life experience to draw from. Who was she to argue with him, knowing near nothing of the world? "I tried to tell them they're wrong, but I didn't know how!"

"That's not what your father meant," Mama says in a hard voice. "They took it out of context."

"Huh?"

"Ah...I mean, Papa did say that, but they used his words and ignored what he actually meant by them to make it sound different. You see?" She nods, and Mama goes on. "You're not going to die. That's why Mama and Papa train you and your siblings so hard, to make sure that when you're ready to leave our protection, you'll be plenty strong. Strong enough to live as long as you can."

"...I won't be as strong as you," she murmurs, looking at the ground.

Mama tips her chin up with one finger. "Now, you don't know that. I have had near fifteen hundred years of life, and all that time to perfect my magic. You've barely had five. Not even I can tell what will happen with time." She makes that amused sound again. "Who knows...Maybe someday you'll be stronger than both your sisters!"

That gets a laugh out of her, and she smiles, all distress forgotten. "I like that idea," Shaula tells her brightly.

"Then perhaps that's what you'll work towards." Mama stands up straight again and pushes the hood off her head, letting her long, honey-gold hair fall neatly over her shoulders. "I have to go, but if you'd like to continue training, your brother is back at the house. He'll help you out."

"Thanks, Mama!" she chirps, as Mama walks over to the trees on the border of the clearing, or more specifically, into the deep shadows they cast onto the ground. "Where are you going now?"

"Well, based on something that's recently come to my attention, I think that my presence is greatly needed someplace else," Mama answers coolly.

She tries not to smile. She really does. But she just can't resist. "You're going to go yell at nee-san and nee-chan, aren't you?"

"...I do not yell. And there's no need to sound so delighted about it." Mama sighs. "Maybe this time the message will stick. Do those two ever actually listen to me when I talk?"

"They do," Shaula assures her. "Well, kind of. They remember for a little while, then they're not scared to get punished anymore and they go back to the way they were."

"Is that so?" If Mama's voice was cool before, then it's positively icy now. Oh, her sisters are in for it this time. "That's going to have to change, now isn't it? On a brighter note, you did good work today, Shaula. You should be proud of yourself." With that, she places one slender hand on a tree trunk darkened by shade, and murmurs her mantra: "Ravena, ravena, ven-ra-ven."

Tendrils of shadow come into being and swirl around her, engulfing her, before her body melts into the trees' shadows and she and her magic disappear, as if she'd never been there. All of her children have seen this often enough that none of them are fazed by it any more. They know exactly what's happening: their mother is traveling through the shadows, faster and more efficient than a broom according to her. Anywhere she's been before, all she needs do is visualize it and she's there. The envious looks all three girls had given poor Karasu when they learned that he, as a familiar with their mother's magic, would be able to learn how to do this and they would not had made him steer clear of his younger sisters for a week.

Shaula sighs. She wishes onii-chan knew enough about the technique to take her along with him in the shadows. That way she could listen in on their mother berating nee-san and nee-chan again. Then again, he probably wouldn't do it anyway. She knows he's right, but the vindictive pleasure she always gets from hearing her older sisters being reamed out and punished is just too good, even if half the time it's followed up by one or both of them cornering her and promising all manner of painful consequences if she ever tells their parents what they do again.

Well, it doesn't matter right now. If she does things right, maybe in time it won't matter to her at all. Now, she can let the smile spread across her face. She's going to be strong. She's going to be stronger than her sisters ever could be.

It had been centuries since that day, and mother, father, and brother were long dead, but Shaula still smiled, even through the sharp sear of the wound in her side and the dull burn of shame within. Because (her failure today notwithstanding) if she hadn't achieved her life's goal yet, then she was closer than she had ever been. This day hadn't even been a complete failure - there's no way she could ever fail completely. It had been undeniable proof that a plan like hers could work, and work well. She only lost because of an unforeseen variable, that with the proper measures would be easily eliminated. If these special abilities were held by an experienced or skilled meister-weapon team, then there'd be more cause to worry. But regardless of what they had pulled out of nowhere in battle, Tatane and her companions were still just foolish little girls, simple to dispose of by other means. It had been laughably easy to snare the unwary meister before she'd entered Shibusen, and none of them would be on guard now, not when they and their superiors believed the enemy dead.

Speaking of that, this is far enough. Even if they were smart enough to send any, Shibusen trackers won't wander out this far. She stopped running, and tried to bring her breathing back down to a normal level. The sky was darkening, the air cooling with it, and from what she could see, there wasn't a living thing in this expanse of hard, gray land for miles. Even so utterly alone, she would not assume she was completely safe - one of Father's first lessons: never assume anything, because one wrong move, or one inaction at the wrong time, could and would be the death of you - but she could spare just a minute to seal up that troublesome gash the brats had left on her.

With her bloodstained right hand, she drew a small vial of healing potion out of her pocket (a shame there were so few witches who were skilled in brewing it, in the fight against Shinigami's soldiers it would be invaluable to have a large supply readily available) and delicately rubbed some of it into the wound, ignoring the sharp initial sting which quickly faded into frosty numbness, masking the pain of torn flesh fusing back together. In the few moments it took for the potion to do its work, Shaula went over her next moves step by step in her head.

First order of business, make it to the nearest hideout she had and recover her research notes before the enemy could. Where personal safety was concerned, she would much rather be headed for the hideout furthest from Death City, but this one had been her base of operations for months now and held the majority of her material. She could make one stop there, as quickly as possible, before going farther away to regroup and begin preparations for her second assault on Shibusen. Much as she disliked even acknowledging them, she would recall and go over every error she'd made today, every tiny flaw in her original plan, in order to correct them all. Mother always said, "If you're lucky enough to survive your mistakes, learn from them."

This time, she would account for unexpected weapons, unexpected powers, unexpected anything. She would have backup plans, that she was certain would work. She would take as much time and as many tries as necessary to perfect the Traitor venom. A strain of the poison that would endow the subject with a hundred times more strength and speed would do nicely, as would one that was undoubtedly irreversible. It would remain unaffected by any antidote (add to the venom a capability to adapt, somehow?) and definitely by such petty things as emotion. Perhaps in the next attack, she'd stay off the front lines until she was absolutely certain anyone and anything that could be a threat to her life had been eliminated. And Soul Protect would remain up, this time, unless she had no other option but to release it. She should have known better than that, at least - she'd known full well that revealing oneself as a witch in the middle of Death City, in broad daylight no less, was a suicidally overconfident move. No, she'd make no foolish mistakes next time. Next time, everything would be perfect.

Shinigami, his precious city, and his worthless soldiers...Give me time enough and I'll crush them all, Shaula thought, one corner of her mouth edging up into a vicious smirk. She and her siblings had grown up listening to their father loudly claim that their kind was equal to the shinigami, in every way. And for decades, they had all believed him. But she knew better now. Not equal, Father. Superior. I will destroy him and everything he's worked so hard to build over the centuries. And after that, who will even remember my sisters' names? I'll do more than they ever dreamed of.

But before any of that, there were things to take care of. Arrangements to make. Experiments to run. Nothing could be overlooked and no time could be wasted. With her wound fully healed and the side effects of the potion rejuvenating her body, Shaula decided that it was time she left. It would be as good to see the end of this dreary moor as it had been to see Death City disappear behind her. She set off again at a run, feeling her prehensile braid twitch at the sensation of wind blowing over it, her mind working as fast as her body. This patch of gray earth was a desolate wasteland, true, but even it could have its uses. Perhaps she could test and train the next model of Traitors here. It was unlikely they'd be noticed; it was obvious nothing had bothered with this land for ages -

Wait.

What was that?

If she had been half a second slower in twisting around and jumping to the side, the blade that flew at her from behind - thin as a razor, sharp and black as obsidian, she knew that magic and oh, she wished she didn't - would have lopped her head clean off her shoulders. Even before she landed, her eyes were flicking frantically around the area, landing on every misshapen rock formation because the land around her was still empty and this witch wouldn't use a direct frontal attack, oh, no, furtiveness was the way of the snake. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a sliver of black behind slate-gray rock - Got you! Venenum veneno, veneno venenum!

"Stinger Shooter!" Rage burning in her blood, Shaula blew the boulder apart, and sent a torrent of white-hot blasts after the lean dark blur that had darted away as soon as she'd raised her hands. She'd always been hard to pin down and she'd only gotten faster, damn her. If she could hit her from a distance right now, it would be over (she would send her sister to the Witch Mass in pieces, then there'd be no question of who was the best), and she wouldn't be forced into close-range fighting. Oh, she'd worked at it, but close-combat had always been her sister's specialty as long-range attacks were her own, and she could not allow her to get the upper hand. Speaking of that...Where the hell did she go?!

Barely perceptible though the sound was, the rush of air on her side was a dead giveaway. There! Shaula spun left, raising her arms and building up her magic even before she saw her sister rushing right at her, propelled by the arrow under her feet. Oh, no you don't! "Magic Push!"

The sheer force of the spell would send her flying back, and with any luck leave her stunned for just long enough that Shaula could deliver a quick, decisive finishing strike. The magic field was wide enough that no one should be able to get away completely, not this close - Damn it!

Three Vector Plates wound around the field, curling behind her in that move she never saw coming. Once more, she twisted around in an attempt to block the attack, but damn it all to hell, her sister was too quick again! Shaula only had time to remember how much those kicks hurt before the older witch's bare heel struck the side of her head like a sledgehammer, and for a second the world went white. When it returned to normal, the first thing she saw was a pair of gold eyes, much too close for comfort and shining with sadistic delight, and another black blade forming to strike at her.

"No!" she cried. "Venenum veneno, vene - Agh!"

She had miscalculated: the arrow had not meant to pierce but to trap, and there were four more where the first had come from, wrapping around her waist and limbs completely before she had the time or chance to evade them. Her sister clenched her open hand into a fist, making the arrows tighten hard around Shaula's body (like the coils of a snake, of course they were), forcing another humiliating cry of pain from her, and then thrust her hand out as if performing a palm strike. The arrows rushed backward, carrying her with them, and slammed her back against the smooth surface of a nearby rock formation. Her struggles did her no good as the arrowheads punctured the stone as if it were foam and wound through its inside, effectively strapping her to it, limbs spread out wide.

At the sound of a light, shameless, enraging laugh right beside her, Shaula's head snapped up. "And just what do you find so funny, Medusa?!"

Her older sister smirked at her, and though it had been centuries since she'd seen it, that expression still made Shaula want to punch her right in the face. "You, of course," Medusa said. "Even after hundreds of years, you still can't even give me a decent fight? I suppose immortality doesn't do everyone good."

Shaula gritted her teeth. She was not a child anymore, and she would not let her sister's jabs get to her. "Who cares about your satisfaction? I have better things to do than please you. Didn't you see Death City?" A smile crawled onto her face at the memory of what she had managed to do, despite being ultimately unsuccessful, and she jutted her chin out proudly. "You had to have seen it. You came from that way, didn't you? Of course you know what I did."

"Yes, I'm well aware of your pitiful little stunt," Medusa said dryly. "And not simply because I happened to be coming that way. Were you really not aware that I was living in Death City as well? I have been for the past few years."

"What?" She jerked up in surprise, as much as the vector arrows would allow. All this time, she'd thought she was the only witch with enough skill to get into Death City and remain hidden there. How had she not realized she wasn't alone? "What are you doing there?" Her eyes narrowed. "Not trying to sabotage my plans, were you?"

"You'd just love to use me as a scapegoat for your failures, wouldn't you?" her sister scoffed. "Even if I hadn't been here first, any plan of yours is utterly beneath my notice. But let me guess, you were trying to destroy Shibusen? What a trite and predictable goal."

"As if your goals are any different!"

"Indeed they are. You see, for you and near every other witch, the destruction of Shibusen is merely the end result. If any of you actually managed it, you wouldn't know what to do afterwards, and you'd be gone as well soon after. For me, it is the means to an end. Unlike you, I look to the future, and ending Shinigami's rule is just another step forward in furthering the evolution of this world."

Shaula burst into derisive laughter, feeling a thrill of satisfaction at seeing the smile drop off Medusa's face. "As egotistical as ever, I see! And still full of hot air. Do you honestly think you'll be the one to bring Death City down?"

"I have plans of my own in place, yes. I believe they're just a bit better thought out than that catastrophe of yours." That damnable smirk was back in full force. "Before you demand that I tell you how, I'll give an example. About six years ago, I successfully infiltrated Shibusen and I've been working there under the guise of a normal human ever since, and never once come under suspicion, whereas your little sleeper agent was caught within a few months. Now I ask you, did you honestly think such obvious mind-control magic would go completely unnoticed? You think far too highly of yourself for one so incompetent."

Incompetent?! The word made Shaula bristle. How dare her sister look down on her still, after everything she'd accomplished, how dare she! No matter, no matter, she thought, forcing herself to remain calm despite her patience being quickly worn thin. Medusa would learn her place soon enough. Oh, she would be sorry she'd ever underestimated her younger sibling! And right now seemed like the perfect opportunity to glean some helpful information, too. "You infiltrated Shibusen as well? What for? And what have you gained by doing something yourself that you could get someone else to do for you? Or, is it that you can't get anyone else to help you, magically or not?"

"What I'm doing is nothing you need to concern yourself with. And it's less that I'm unable to work with others, and more that I'm actually capable of doing things myself. If I need someone else, well..." Something familiar and stomach-churningly unpleasant flashed in Medusa's eyes. Shaula remembered well: it was the look she'd always had whenever she was about to browbeat her younger sister or manipulate her older brother into doing something for her. "Suffice it to say that I have all the help I need. But then, you wouldn't know anything about being self-reliant when all you know how to do is run and hide behind others."

"Only when I have to!" Shaula shouted indignantly. "If I need to, of course I can fight on my own! I attacked Shibusen directly, I fought their forces myself!"

"Their forces? You mean those three little girls who've never seen battle in their lives and still beat you into the pavement without breaking a sweat? You know, I was watching from my office window as they came back, and if I didn't know better, I'd say they were trying to make a mockery of you. Did you know that the weapon put that soul you left behind on a string and carried it up to the building like a balloon?" She threw back her head and laughed, shrill and harsh. Forget punching - when she got out of this, Shaula was going to rip her face off. "If that had actually been your soul, I'd have fallen over and died of laughter right there!"

"Wonderful, I'd have taken you with me," Shaula snarled.

"I must admit, that was a clever trick you pulled, sticking a scorpion tail onto the soul of a Kishin egg. But unfortunately for you, not clever enough. Based on personal experience, I can say that the Shibusen staff are stupid and gullible, but not to that degree. Soon enough one of them will notice that it looks absolutely nothing like an actual witch's soul."

"What does it matter? Whether they realize or not, the next time I attack, they'll never see me coming! Victory over Shinigami will be mine!"

"Boast all you want, it won't change anything. You'll still be foolish, weak, and utterly, utterly worthless," Medusa said smoothly, moving closer to her sister. "The laughingstock of Death City, the forgotten Gorgon sister, the least loved by our parents - "

"That's not true!" Shaula shouted, throwing herself against the vectors. She did not get to say that. She did not. Her sister's expression did not falter. "It's not!"

"Isn't it?" Medusa knew she'd struck a nerve, and a tender one too. "Arachne was Father's favorite child. I was Mother's favorite. And what does that make you? Ab-so-lute-ly nothing." The last words were purposefully drawn out, and it was that little, painfully mocking touch that pushed Shaula over the edge.

"Just shut the hell up, will you?!" she shrieked, thrashing and attempting to lunge, to no avail. Her body shook uncontrollably, and she saw Medusa through a red haze. "You're calling me worthless, when all you've ever done is talk?! I'm the one who's smart enough and strong enough to destroy Shinigami, when Arachne failed and you never even tried! You've just holed up here for years doing nothing! I might have run today, but I never fail! Never! I will make my plans perfect, and next time I come here I'll raze Death City to the ground, and you can just get out of my way!"

She was nowhere near done. She would have screamed abuse in her (wholly nonplussed) older sister's face all night if she could, but Medusa had other ideas. With one quick step forward, she was all but pressed up against Shaula's restrained body, with her left hand pushing on her shoulder and her right hand grabbing her face, holding her jaw shut.

"Aww, is big sister ruining your games again?" she simpered, leering at Shaula as she struggled beneath her. "I wish I could say I'm sorry, but getting a rise out of you is just too fun to pass up. It's too easy, seeing as you never could control your temper. Just the same, you could never make me stop."

Before Shaula could react, Medusa released her jaw, only to immediately draw her hand back and slap her younger sister hard across the face with an open palm. For an instant, stars burst behind Shaula's eyes and her ears rang. She heard Medusa's voice as if from miles away rather than uncomfortably close: "Now doesn't that take you back? Such lovely memories we have, hm?"

Shaula couldn't answer. Her temple was throbbing, and the world was still spinning. Memories...Of us... Without her consent, one floated fleetingly into her mind.

Her sister draws the short silver blade seemingly out of nowhere, and the sight makes Shaula reflexively jump back in shock.

"N-Nee-chan..." Medusa had just been teasing her like always, she'd thought, she never really meant any of her threats. "Stop it, th-that's not funny..."

She snickers, as if she finds Shaula's fear amusing. "Sure it is. The look on your face, that's priceless," she hisses, her eyes gleaming in the dim light like a predator's. She steps closer, and points the knife at her.

For a second, her heart stops, and she stumbles back with a yelp. "N-No..." Her fright makes her voice come out weak and soft. "I-I said stop..."

"Ah? What was that? You'll have to speak up, I can't hear you." The delight in her voice makes Shaula's blood run cold - how can she be enjoying this, this much?! It was never this bad before.

"I...I said..."

Medusa's not listening. She keeps advancing on her, forcing her back and back until she hits the wall. Her eyes flick over the room, searching desperately for any escape, but the only way out is the door behind her sister. With no other choice, she bolts to the side and tries for it, but she's barely gotten a step away before tendrils of black burst from under her feet, winding around her arms and legs and holding her in place. She can't even try to pull away, and the beginning of a scream for help escapes her before another black band wraps around her mouth, effectively gagging her.

A grin is unfurling on her sister's face. "Can't run crying to Mother now, can you?"

What? A flash of confusion breaks through the haze of fear. Is that really what this is about? She torments Shaula for stress relief as much as she does just for fun, but is Medusa really going to do this so soon after their parents' murder? Then the meaning behind her sister's taunt hits her: She can't go to their parents any more. She can't cry for help. Arachne is equally bad, more often than not her orders take Karasu away from the house for days on end, and Giriko just flat out won't care. There's nothing she can say and nowhere she can go. And then something else hits her even harder: With no one to make her, Medusa doesn't have to hold back any more.

The knife is so close to her face now that she can see her own eyes, huge with terror, reflected in the silver. Her sister's lips are stretched wide, and her eyes are bright with anticipation. She won't stop no matter what Shaula does, so it will do no good to try. But when she feels the sharp bite of the blade sinking into the soft flesh of her cheek, and hears Medusa's soft, breathless laughter in her ears, she can't fight it: she lets out a scream, but against the tight gag it's muffled into nothing.

Damn it! Shaula shook her head vigorously, forcing the memory out of her mind and back into the past where it belonged. That time was over - over! She wasn't that pathetic little brat anymore, that child she hated for her weakness. She was nother older sisters' plaything, and she was not going to whimper and cower now as if she was!

Medusa was still grinning down at her as she regained her senses, and Shaula didn't know whether that expression looked worse on her adult face now, or her twelve-year-old face from the memory. "You always were amusing, if nothing else," she said. "It's refreshing to be able to have some fun with you before - "

"I told you, shut up!" Shaula thrust her face forward, forcing Medusa to take a hasty step back to avoid being headbutted. "Did you really follow me out here and tie me up just to make fun of me? Are you that petty and immature, still? Whatever you did it for, I don't care anyway. I have things to get done and I don't have time for your games! Let me go now!"

Far from being convinced, Medusa still looked amused. "If you want to leave so badly, then free yourself. Since you can't, I'll be keeping you here until I'm finished. Speaking of that, I probably should tell you why I came to talk with you."

"I'm not interested in any of your - !"

The next slap - a backhand - wasn't as hard as the first, but blood flew from Shaula's mouth as it split her lip. Before she knew what was happening, Medusa was up against her again, taking Shaula's hands in hers and lacing their fingers together. "You don't have a choice, littlesister," she said, leaning in further and forcing Shaula back flat against the cold, rough stone.

Their foreheads were just a few inches from touching, and she could feel her sister's warm breath on her face. Shaula felt her stomach twist in disgust, but unlike all those years ago, she forced herself to remain calm. She would not show fear, she would not start shaking, she would not do anything that could be considered submissive. This had happened enough times before that she knew just what was going on: Medusa was only trying to unnerve her, and it wasn't going to work, not this time. "Like hell I don't - "

Medusa kept going as if she hadn't spoken at all. "I've had a certain experiment going for the past twelve years or so, and now I've reached a certain stage that requires your help to complete."

"What." It wasn't a question. Rather, an expression of stunned disbelief. "After everything that's happened...After everything you've done to me...You think I'm going to help you?!"

"Of course. As I said, you have no choice." Her sister's fingers tightened around hers, her nails pressing into her skin almost to the point of breaking it. "I need something from you, and so I will have it, one way or another. Cooperate, and I'll make this as quick and painless as possible. You understand, don't you?"

"I...I..." Shaula deliberately softened her voice, putting just as much vulnerability into it as she could stomach. The blood from her cut lip had started to trickle into her mouth, and she hesitated for a moment to let it pool there. She lifted her head as much as she could to look Medusa in the face, working her mouth as if about to answer, and then spit the blood into her sister's eye as hard as she could.

Medusa recoiled immediately, letting out a furious hiss and rubbing forcefully at her face with the back of her hand. Shaula waited, glaring defiantly at her, until she lowered her arm to look at her younger sister. At her enraged expression, Shaula couldn't suppress a smirk. Though the wildfire in Medusa's eyes promised an incalculable amount of pain at her hands, just the knowledge that she had been able to elicit that emotional reaction from her cold, impassive sister was enough to make any punishment worth it. And if she was going to be punished for this anyway, she reasoned, why stop there?

"Burn in hell, you smug bitch," Shaula snarled. "You'll get no help from me. If you want to use me as your test subject, you're going to have to fight me for every minute of it."

Medusa's eyes narrowed. "Very well. If you insist on being difficult, then you leave me no choice. I was going to finish this myself. It would have taken not three seconds, and with minimal pain, no less. But you've chosen otherwise." The smirk was back again. It hadn't taken her long at all to compose herself, Shaula thought indignantly. This did not bode well at all. "Remember when I told you that I have all the help I need?" She turned around, and Shaula followed her gaze to another boulder roughly twenty feet away. "You can come out now," she called sharply.

The second the words were out of her mouth, a child - at least a couple years younger than those NOT students - with tousled pink hair and wide blue eyes shuffled out from behind the rock and towards the two witches. They were a skinny, scrawny little thing, and she could neither see a weapon on them nor sense any magic in their soul. Nervous, too: the kid was cringing as if trying to make themself small enough to be unnoticed, and wouldn't look directly at either of them. Despite that, she could see that they held a distant look, and were filled with the haze of madness and fear. All in all, they didn't look like much of a fighter, or much of anything, really. She looked up at Medusa, who still looked inexplicably satisfied. "And that is...?"

"My child, Crona. You've become an aunt in the centuries we've been apart, Shaula."

At first, Shaula didn't know how to react to that at all. She looked at the child, who was still cowering at either her or Medusa, she wasn't sure which, then back to her sister, then back to the child. Then once again, she burst out laughing, loud and uncontrolled (out of the corner of her eye, she saw Crona jump at the sudden noise). It wasn't even deliberate mockery this time, she reflected, this was actually hilarious.Not just the fact that Medusa, of all people, was a mother now, but that this lowly thing was what had come from her.

"That's your child?" she got out, struggling to speak through laughter she couldn't stop. Even better, it occurred to her the things Medusa must have done to create this little half-breed in the first place. Their own father (the son of a witch himself) hadn't had a drop of human blood in his body, making his daughters superior even to other witches by their heritage. But, he had been a rare find, and a lucky catch on their mother's part. Most witches wanting progeny had to resort to finding human partners to sire them, degrading as it was. To think that her high-and-mighty older sister would be one of them! "This is rich! That brat looks pathetic - serves you right! I can't believe you went and bred with a human, I thought even you wouldn't sink so low as to - "

"Who said it was a human I bred with?"

That stopped her short-lived amusement cold, replacing it with confusion. "If...If not a human, then what did you - "

"Well, technically, he was human once," Medusa said thoughtfully. "But his lust for greater and still greater power put an end to that fairly quickly. What he became by the time I met him can't be called human by any stretch of the imagination."

Salacious images of her sister and a Kishin egg flashed, very much unwanted and unasked for, in Shaula's mind, and she felt distinctly sick. Mating with humans was filthy enough, but what Medusa was implying...Oh, hell, she was vile. "I-I don't want to know any more."

"Good. It's high time we moved on to the main event here anyway," Medusa agreed briskly. She turned back to her child. "Bring Ragnarok out," she ordered.

Before Crona could react, their body jerked violently forward, and a place on their back pulsed and swirled for a moment before a dark...something burst out of it with a shrill shriek that mingled with the child's cries of pain. It looked like a huge, humanoid blob of ink; she didn't have any idea what else to characterize it as. She flinched back, in horror brought on by sheer confusion, and shouted, "What in seven hells is that?!"

"Stop it," Crona whimpered, pressing their palms to their ears. Even their voice was thin and fearful. "You and Ragnarok are both so loud, I can't deal with all the noise. All the noise and the screaming and - "

"Be quiet, Crona," Medusa snapped. Crona flinched as if expecting a blow, and was silent, cowering under their mother's narrowed eyes. Shaula almost felt a twinge of pity for them: for Medusa, it wouldn't be a hard or long jump from abusing her little sister to abusing her own child.

"Yeah, quit your whining, pipsqueak!" Ragnarok growled, and ground his bulky white fists into Crona's skull, which only elicited louder yelps and protests from his host - she assumed that theirs was a symbiotic relationship based on what she was seeing.

Ignoring her squabbling child and...test subject, Shaula would just go with that, Medusa turned back to her sister. "I'll be the first to admit that they aren't exactly what I'd envisioned, but they're a more powerful meister and weapon team than Shinigami could ever train."

"Meister?" Shaula took another look at the preteen, who was awkwardly trying to bat their bullying weapon's hands away, and tried her best to hide her astonishment. Her sister had been a consummate liar all her life (the only person she'd never been able to deceive at least once was their mother, who had seemed to have a sixth sense for detecting falsehoods), but did she really expect Shaula to believe that a witch like her had been able to birth a meister child? "There's no way you could have done that. Even if you used a meister to sire it, a witch can't possibly have a child with those abilities. It's hereditary, and meister capabilities don't exactly run in our family."

Medusa cocked her scarred eyebrow. "Oh? Don't they? I think you're forgetting someone."

It only took a moment for the implications to click in, and the understanding made Shaula's eyes narrow. "Arachne...I did wonder where all her notes on her creations disappeared to after her defeat."

"What, did you want them for yourself?" Medusa scoffed. "As if you'd know the first thing about what to do with them. On the other hand, I've used them to mold Crona's very soul so that he can wield a demon weapon. True, the generally accepted theory among our kind is that the mother's witch blood would cancel out any meister or weapon genes from the father, but I know for a fact that that's not true. And before you can say anything about Crona's lack of magical ability, I'll have you know that it doesn't matter to me. His witch blood means nothing next to the black blood I've replaced it with."

"Black blood? What are you talking abo - ?" She broke off, taking another, closer look at the pitch-black weapon protruding from Crona's back, and when she spoke again it was exceptionally difficult to keep from sounding impressed. "What did you do?"

"I drained all the natural blood from Crona's body, and filled his veins with artificial blood cells that strengthen his body and accelerate his madness, which augments his power and Ragnarok's. It's far and away superior to that impotent poison of yours."

"Tch. I suggest you reserve judgement on my Traitor venom until I've brought it to its final stage," snapped Shaula. "And all your bragging still hasn't answered one question. Why did you have that little half-breed in the first place? What are you planning to use it for? You have to know that one meister and weapon team can't possibly take down the whole of Shibusen, even with you backing it."

"Well, if a meister-weapon team can't do it, then what about a Kishin?"

Shaula couldn't stop herself from drawing in a shocked breath, because there was no way Medusa was serious about that. She couldn't possibly be doing that. "You're trying to create a Kishin...? Are you out of your mind?!"

Medusa's grin only broadened. "I've been having Crona collect human souls for Ragnarok to consume since he was five years old. By now he's but a hairsbreadth from the turning point. Do you know of any other time a witch and a full-fledged Kishin launched an attack on Death City simultaneously? Of course you don't. Shinigami will never see this coming, and there is no way he could possibly prepare for such a thing."

"It's not that simple!" Shaula shouted, seriously wondering if her sister had gone mad. Mind-controlled soldiers were one thing, an almighty demon god was quite another. Kishin were by their very nature uncontrollable. As the polar opposites of order, they were never meant to be leashed like trained dogs, their power never meant to be constrained. If Medusa actually went through with this, it wouldn't be just Shinigami's forces at risk. This monster of hers could wreak havoc on the witch world as well as Death City. "How do you think you're going to control it? How do you know it won't turn on you? Do you have any idea what you're really doing?!"

"Such a task would be the death of you, I'm sure," Medusa said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "But it's a simple matter for me. You forget that no matter what else he may be, Crona is my child, and I have raised him to be obedient. Even with all the power of a Kishin at his disposal, he won't dare defy his mother. He obeys my every command without question or protest. In fact, if you'd like a demonstration to prove it, I believe it's time to stop wasting time with idle chatter and start the experiment you'll be helping me with tonight."

"I told you, I'm not helping you!" yelled Shaula, throwing herself angrily against the vectors again.

"And I told you, you don't have any choice, my sweet baby sister," Medusa cooed in a twisted version of the voice their mother would use, reaching down to pull her fingers harshly through Shaula's hair. The fact that she even looked like a twisted version of their mother was just an extra kick in the gut, Shaula thought bitterly. Favorite child, like hell! If Mother were here, she'd kill you without a second thought. "Now don't try to struggle," Medusa went on. "It'll be over soon, and you can't escape anyway." Ignoring her sister's demands for a clearer explanation and stepping to the side, she turned back to her child and their weapon. "Crona, Ragnarok."

Both of them froze immediately despite her light tone. Ragnarok's face was blank and unreadable, but Crona's fairly good impression of a kicked puppy made their fear obvious. "Y-Yes, ma'am?"

Medusa gestured to Shaula, and the positively delighted expression on her face made the younger witch's stomach drop even before she heard the words: "This one has the soul you need. Kill it."

"What?! No...No!" Shaula cried, suddenly desperate. The word echoed in her mind: No, no, no, no, no! In barely a second, her breathing was speeding up out of her control, and her body felt numb and cold, as if frost were coating her skin. Her sister couldn't do this to her. Not now, of all times, not when victory was closer than it had ever been for her! Though she knew by now it wasn't worth the try, she lunged with all her strength against the unyielding vectors. "You can't! I still have so much to do! Medusa, please, you can't kill me!"

"Reduced to begging so quickly, sister? You really are pathetic," Medusa taunted, as Ragnarok flowed into a sword in his compliant meister's hand. "And it's not me who's going to be killing you, you know. You'll be brought down by a mere child, and twice in one day too. I just can't imagine how embarrassing a death that is for you."

Crona stared at the hyperventilating witch's face with blank eyes, as if in a moment they would be doing no more than harmlessly scratching her. And no wonder, they'd done this likely hundreds of times before, Shaula remembered. What could her life mean to them, among the countless others that they'd taken at the whim of their mother? But still, given the situation, appealing to whatever better nature the child might have (especially since their mother had none) was her only option. "C-Crona," she said, trying as best as she could for a soft and kind tone. "You don't want to do this. You don't have to! I'm your aunt, you can't kill your own family!"

"I told you before, be quiet," Crona droned, lifting the black broadsword. She recognized the look in their pale blue eyes: the look of one lost beyond retrieval to madness. "I have to get your soul. Remember, my blood is black."

Her heart raced as if in desperation to keep her alive, and her pulse pounding in her ears was blocking out nearly all other sound. Time was running out too fast; there had to be some way to get out of this alive! She turned to her smiling sister. "M-Medusa..." Whimpering like this was pathetic and part of her hated herself fiercely for it, but this was no time to be shouting ineffectual threats. "Please, call him off! I'll help you, I'll do anything you want, just please don't - "

The simultaneous clatter of footsteps and the rush of a sword slicing the air made her head snap back around, a second before Crona was on top of her and her stomach burst with pain. The start of a shriek escaped her before the thick blood spurting up from her throat choked her. Crona didn't react to the viscous spray hitting their pallid face, only drove the wide blade deeper into Shaula's gut as her body convulsed under them. The metal tore through her organs and pierced through the flesh of her back, and it felt as if someone had lit her on fire from the inside, so intense was the agony. Her eyes burned and stung, bringing the shame flooding back into her when she realized why, and she looked up at the young meister through blurred vision. Realizing that this first impalement hadn't quite killed their victim yet, Crona drew Ragnarok from her stomach with a sickening wet noise, and lifted the sword above their head, where the soaked blade dripped red onto both of them. "Die now, will you?"

Before Shaula could make another sound, the sword swung down to tear through her chest, and her world ended in a red inferno of pain as the meister stabbed and slashed and cut her body apart.

~0~

In the centuries since they'd seen each other last, she had forgotten what it was like to strike terror into her younger sister's heart. Even when they were children, she had so loved seeing it - Shaula's eyes bulging, her face paling, her tiny voice making weak pleas for mercy and empty threats even as her body trembled and shook. And the more things had changed, the more they had stayed the same: though she was an adult now, with arrogance and bravado to spare, beneath that carefully constructed shield Shaula was still that same cowardly child pleading for someone, anyone, to forget her older sisters and notice her. And Medusa knew that however her sister brushed off the negative words of others, she was still the one that Shaula could never shake off no matter how hard she tried. She would always be the one who could smash that shield to pieces and reduce her sister to a screaming, pathetic wreck of a girl. And now, she didn't even have to do it personally.

She wasn't paying any attention to Crona as they raised Ragnarok high, in the style of an executioner, or to the blood gushing from the hole they'd made in Shaula's torso. Her gaze was focused on her sister's face, watching the tears well up and spill down from eyes huge with terror. She wondered, was Shaula too shocked to keep struggling for escape, or did she just realize the hopelessness of her situation? Not that it mattered, not really. Crona was ready, Ragnarok's blade whistled down through the air -

Oh, what a beautiful scream.

As her sister's blood sprayed her face, again and again with each stroke of the sword, Medusa didn't bother to hold back an ecstatic grin. Shaula didn't scream as Crona (vicious, unrelenting Crona who hadn't hesitated a second to take their aunt's life; they became more and more compliant every day) brutalized her. She couldn't, what with her lungs and neck being sliced to shreds along with the rest of her. All she could do instead was let out wordless, visceral noises, like those of a squealing pig, that became weaker and more garbled every second as her life was hacked away. It wouldn't be long now. She would give it a moment...then another...then just another...

"Crona, enough," she ordered, and Crona stopped mid-swing, Ragnarok held just above the place where Shaula's neck and shoulder had once met. "Back. I will finish this myself."

"Not much to finish, is there?" grumbled Ragnarok as he retreated into his backpedaling meister's body and then out again between their shoulders. Medusa stepped forward to stand close to Shaula again, releasing the now unnecessary vectors and letting the sorry scrap of flesh that was her sister drop instantly to the ground with nothing to hold her up. She bent down to grab Shaula by the neck, lifted her up, and slammed her against the boulder once more. Only the tiny whimper that escaped her on impact with the stone let Medusa know that her tenacious little sister still clung to life.

With a quick motion of her wrist, she jerked Shaula's head up to look at her. Her eyes, dull and tired, had reverted back to their original, solid shade of midnight blue, and they stared vacantly at Medusa from a face streaked with blood and tears. She wouldn't be surprised if, by this point, Shaula would welcome the end her older sister would bring her. "I wonder," she mused, so softly only Shaula could hear her, "when we were children, how often you thought that I was really going to kill you. I'm sure I must have made you think that more than once."

Shaula gave no sign that she'd heard or understood for a moment, but then she made a faint, unintelligible noise that might have been a word. "Hm?" Medusa tilted her head to the side. "What was that? If you want your last words to be heard, you'll have to speak up."

"N...N..." Her vocal cords must not have been cut, but it was a struggle for her to get even the one syllable out. Medusa considered just killing her right then (one last insult to her sister's desire to be acknowledged), but she had to admit, she was curious. "N...N-N-Nee...ch...ch-chan..." Medusa's eyebrows lifted. Shaula hadn't called her that in over eight hundred years. "P...Pl...P-Please..."

The corner of Medusa's mouth twitched up. Whether this was mere vulnerability or a pitiful attempt at emotional manipulation, it didn't matter to her. Shaula's usefulness had run out. Medusa lifted her right arm, calling her vectors into being. "Goodbye, little sister," she said, as the arrows whirred around her forearm. She saw Shaula's eyes widen for just a second, before she rammed the vector drill directly into her heart. The effect was instantaneous: shreds of wet flesh and innards spewed out everywhere, and the screech of arrow against bone filled the air. Just this would be enough to kill Shaula - in fact, she was fairly certain her sister was already dead - but the destruction of her body was only one necessary step towards Medusa's primary goal. It was close, now, she just had to keep pushing. Just a little more...A little further...She felt something unnaturally cold amid the hot insides, that made her fingertips tingle. Right there!

She thrust her hand forward, grabbed the icy cool object and yanked it forcefully from Shaula's chest, as her sister's body dissolved at her feet. Working with Shinigami's child soldiers for six years had taught her a few very interesting things about hunting souls. Once the body was finished, the soul was free to take, and to do with as the new owner pleased. She smiled at the luminous purple orb that fit just perfectly in her hand. This was the last thing she would need to strengthen her child's body. Hopefully this would do something to push Crona towards transition. In boasting about her latest creation to Shaula, she had had to put in a few lies: Even after seven years of consuming human souls, they were nowhere near becoming a Kishin. Perhaps something had gone wrong, she thought, or perhaps there was some crucial information that had been lost in the time since Asura's imprisonment. As far as she knew, a witch soul, with all the transformative powers it contained, could be the one ingredient she had been missing. She'd given Crona everything else she could: intense training, a demon weapon, her black blood, and the strongest genes she'd been able to.

At that last thought, Medusa smirked as the image of her child's father entered her mind. She didn't know what conclusion Shaula had jumped to when she had described him (from the look on her face it had probably been something wild and idiotic), but whatever it was had likely been wrong. He had been perfect: a scientist like herself, completely unfettered by petty things like ethics or former loyalties. It had been a very lucky chance meeting. His work fascinated her, and vice versa, and he'd made for quite the interesting partner. If only her companion, in his insatiable thirst for knowledge, had learned the meaning of "reasonable limitations." She held herself to a strict rule of no self-experimentation, whereas her partner lived by no restrictions at all. Truly, by the time they'd found each other, he had transformed himself into something truly inhuman for the sake of furthering his research and empowering himself. Not that she was complaining - it would probably get him killed one day, but it had made him the most suitable sire for her child. The offspring of a witch like her and a demon like him would have a better chance of achieving transition into a Kishin from their very conception, she had thought.

She only wished her partner had stuck around to see what their creation had become, instead of writing Crona off as irreparably weak so soon. The man had no patience for failure, real or perceived. It was a pity he'd broken off contact with them (she'd have loved to rub it in his face that she'd been right all along), but his devotion to his research came before anything and anyone else. Self-serving bastard, Medusa thought, not without affection. She turned back to Crona, realizing that she must look quite a sight, being just as thoroughly spattered in Shaula's blood as they were, and she could see that they tried not to cringe back at the unconcealed excitement on their mother's face.

"Well, come here, then," she said, holding out Shaula's scorpion-tailed soul to them. "Take it."

Ragnarok was nowhere near as apprehensive as his meister. "You don't have to tell me twice! Give me that thing!" Pushing Crona's head down with one hand, he lunged forward to snatch the soul from her with the other. "I can't wait to taste a witch soul!"

With that, he shoved the soul into his mouth and gulped it down. For just a second, everything was still and silent. Crona's entire body trembled with terror, maybe with the realization that they had absolutely no idea what was going to happen to them next. Ragnarok looked around in anticipation, as if he expected something to appear before him to take. Medusa had a single, stomach-dropping thought that the prized soul had done nothing at all and she was no closer to achieving her goal. Then Ragnarok arched backwards sharply and suddenly, as if something huge had grabbed his head and yanked it back hard. His shout of pain and surprise drowned out Crona's. Watching them, a thrill ran through Medusa. This is it.

Crona wailed shrilly as Ragnarok thrashed above them and the place on their back where they connected pulsed harshly. The surface of the weapon's body rippled like waves in a storm, and it started to swell and morph as the full effects of the witch soul took effect. His head flattened and tapered, as his neck and midsection elongated like a length of clay being pulled, and his torso and arms stretched wider and wider. In fact, Medusa observed, his arms seemed to be disappearing altogether...No, she realized, not disappearing but changing. They were growing, huge and wide, into a shape she soon recognized. Ragnarok seemed to realize what his new appendages at around the same point she did, and with a skyward shriek sounding more triumphant than pained, he threw his limbs outward, displaying his enormous wings proudly. A grin spread across Medusa's face as she beheld them. They had to be at least twenty feet long, and given Crona's size they'd have no problem supporting them in flight. Of course, this wasn't the specific transformation she'd been hoping for (she sensed no change in their soul that would signify their transition into a Kishin), but power was power, and this would certainly prove beneficial. Perhaps having consumed a witch soul would lead to different effects on Crona the next times they hunted human souls. She could be satisfied with this for the time being.

Crona, for their part, was far less enthusiastic about the change than their mother and weapon. They were curled up tightly into themself on the ground, twitching and crying in agony. "I-It hurts...It hurts..." they sobbed, their face flushed and streaming with tears. "M-Medusa-sama, it hurts, make it st-stop."

"Hush, Crona," Medusa dismissed them, her eyes still fixed on Ragnarok, who was experimentally flexing his wings and craning his head every way he could to get a good look at his changed form. This was only the beginning. Already she was mentally compiling the list of tests she'd have to run to find out what sort of new abilities Shaula's soul had given Crona and Ragnarok. A few she would be able to do right away, but the others would have to wait until they had visited and cleaned out each of her younger sister's hideaways. Ineffective though it had proven to be, Shaula's research and magic did have potential, and could be put to much better use in her hands. Mind-control magic had never been quite to her taste, but she had been looking for spells that would let her manipulate Crona further, that would boost their confidence and simultaneously lessen the probability that he would defy or disobey her. She knew full well that even before they'd gained a Kishin's power, extra measures would have to be taken to keep them safely under her control, and Shaula's spells could be easily modified to suit that purpose. It was oddly fitting, she thought, that the only time her sister could actually be good for something was after she was dead. Oh, she'd tried her hardest, but in the end she'd done nothing of importance with her life herself.

Medusa looked down one last time at the blood-spattered place where Shaula's body had fallen. The soul was eaten, and there was no trace of the body. Even when Shibusen realized that their students hadn't actually killed the witch, sooner or later they would stop looking for her, and then overlook her completely in favor of dealing with actual threats. Soon enough, her very existence would be forgotten, by everyone. The thought made her snicker: Despite everything, Shaula was exactly the same in death as she was in life.

Absolutely nothing.

~0~

A/N - Mother of God, nearly 12,000 words. I never expected it to grow this long when I started writing, but after seeing episode 12 of Soul Eater NOT, I couldn't not (I swear to God that's not a pun) write it. Seriously, that show as a whole could have been a whole lot better.

A little explanation here for anyone unfamiliar with Japanese sibling terminology: Nee-san and nee-chan are both honorifics for "older sister." Nee-chan is the less formal term, and since Medusa is the younger older sister, Shaula uses that to refer to her, and the more formal term for her older older sister Arachne. Onii-chan is an informal term for "older brother." I really hope I'm using this stuff right or I'm going to feel really stupid. Shaula's mother's pet name for her, "amatissima," means "beloved" in Italian. Part of my headcanon for the Gorgons' backgrounds (their parents will be showing up in other stories, if I ever get around to writing them) is that their mother was half Greek and half Italian. Another part is that Young!Medusa was a total Enfante Terrible, because I can't picture her being a sweet kid or a good sister.

Also, Crona is agender (which is why I use "they") but Medusa uses "he" for simplicity's sake, because she doesn't give enough of a shit about her child's gender to use proper pronouns.

Reviews?

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