Her heart raced in her chest as she stumbled through the woods, driven forwards by this primordial fear for her dear life. Who could tell for how much longer Titan would last? If she was lucky, the other werewolves would join in soon, maybe even the Lord himself. About time for him to play his cards, after all. All Ignes knew was that she had played hers too soon. Damn that Frankenstein! Curse him a thousand times and more! If only – was it really tampered research she has been working with all these years? A built-in weakness to his own weapon? It must be. Her arm should have grown back now! With heaving chest, Ignes stumbled forward a couple of more steps before coming to a halt. Her remaining hand reached out for the nearest tree in search of support.
"You cannot run forever, Ignes Jelena Kravei." A voice so familiar, a torturingly sweet song in her ears even after all these years. Slowly, Ignes turned away as if she meant to savour this dreadful anticipation. To see her again, not just fleetingly as she stepped on the battlefield akin to a goddess made flesh, but in full, with nothing but the moon to witness them.
"From you? I would never run from you." Ignes laughed, a bitter, dry sound half stuck in her throat. Everything was over, wasn't it? For the Lord, she had nothing. For this Frankenstein, this miserable devil, she had her precious knowledge, for the Noblesse the tears of a lost girl alone in a world so cold, so repentant, looking for redemption. Show me the way, Cadis Etrama Di Raizel, Frankenstein, let me show you what I know, turn your back on me once and I will hold my dagger ready.
"Tell me why I should not end you where you stand." The Lord's eyes were narrowed, gleaming red in the pale silver gleam of the moon above them. Ignes swallowed and took a step back, head lowered slightly. A power to rival Lords? Right. That she might have told herself when fighting that werewolf bitch, yet before her, could she truly be so arrogant?
No. No. Don't give up yet. Everything was at stake. Raskreia, the weakest of all Lords, surrounded by weak clan leaders, a scientist half consumed with madness and a dying noblesse. This was all that was left of the nobles and their allies.
"I am still a Clan Leader. I am stronger than any of the current clan leaders. You know it. Kill me. Kill me if you want. Then I won't stand in your way. But neither will I stand in the way of your enemies."
Raskreia furrowed her eyebrows. Yet she was still listening. Indeed, though she hated to admit it – Ignes was strong. Despite all of her crimes, despite everything she did, she was still among the oldest remaining clan leaders... a wolf backed up into a corner, ready to bite at anything that came too close. You have nothing left to lose, you wretched thing.
Slowly, Ragnarok dissolved from her hand as she took a step towards Ignes, chin raised high. Like a beaten dog, Ignes lowered her head, muscles tensing as though she meant to back off. Good.
"You hardly deserve a quick death," Raskreia finally said. Did she enjoy this? Yes, too much. Once, Ignes might have been a friend, dolls and tea, dresses and giggles, more than a thousand years ago. The Noblesse and Frankenstein had eliminated the traitors, but this one was hers. No betrayal had cut deeper, more personal, than the girl she once called a friend. To see her like this filled Raskreia with a sickening mixture of satisfaction and pity. "... let alone my trust."
"I have nowhere to run." Once again, Ignes laughed and this time, Raskreia was convinced that her impression was right: a beaten dog backed into a corner. "The Union is falling apart and the werewolves? When you all are done with them, there will be nothing left of them. I have no allies. Nowhere to go. How much harm can I, alone, do against all of you?"
Ignes raised her remaining hand as though that gesture might appease her. Without the resources of the union and the werewolves, without their influence, their labs, their test subjects, without them, Ignes was nothing but a miserable little wretch. Too afraid to die, with nothing to live for, with no one to mourn her.
"Let me go," Ignes said softly, her remaining arm still raised slightly. Her arm had started regenerating by now. Would she attack? Would she try to win time to find a better moment to stab her in the back? Of course. Of course, that's what she would do. Raskreia eyed her up and down, she could almost feel Ignes squirming under her stern, unforgivingly steely gaze. Squirm all you want, you cannot hide from me.
"And in return? What will you give me in return?" Raskreia stepped closer – faster than Ignes could recoil. Her fingers closed around the younger noble's throat into a firm chokehold.
Why did she feel so excited? Why did everything inside of her tingle as though a thousand butterflies exploded in her guts? Ignes reached out for the hand that had her in its grasp, did not try to resist. Her fingers closed around Raskreia's wrist without much force – she would not struggle, enamored with this feeling she could not put into words at this moment. She could lose herself forever in these eyes, in this cold sea of crimson.
"Everything," she whispered, a hoarse croak pressing against Raskreia's fingers. She should not enjoy this, should not enjoy this power she wielded. Yet she did. Slowly, her grip relaxed.
"Call me, call me, wherever I am, wherever you are, whenever, whatever, I will be yours... Leviathan will be yours. My power will be yours."
Raskreia eyed her for another couple of minutes. No one would ever have to know. Each minute wasted here with Ignes would put her people at unnecessary risk. She was their Lord, her duty was to protect them – not to lie to them, and yet, it would be so easy. Too easy, too tempting, to just give in to this wicked suggestion.
Finally, she let go of her entirely and Ignes' arm dropped back. Her other arm had regenated and Raskreia was half-surprised to see that she made no move to summon her soul weapon.
"I will. If you dare to betray me.. if you dare not to heed my call – you will learn that death is the most merciful fate that you could meet."
A weak smile briefly illuminated Ignes' weary features. It seemed too genuine, too out of place. "I wouldn't have it any other way." Just as she meant to disappear into the dark of the forest, she stopped again, turning around.
"Oh... there is one more thing. The werewolf lord, Maduke... take him down first. Don't waste time and energy on his underlings."