Written 2010 - December - 01.
Edited 2013 - September - 12.
5.
In the frenzy of blood and steel that is the battlefield, Tanith Low's vision blurs. Her muscles scream at her, and there is a low, dull, metallic ringing in her ears, buzzing at the back of her neck. She is tired, and at the moment, she wants very little other than for all this to be done. It's senseless, and besides, she's far too young for this. She's far too young and too beautiful to die, or be maimed, or anything of the sort.
That's the remnant's thought, but at the same time it isn't, because not all of the being that she is is the remnant, and really, she phases in and out of being Tanith as she once was.
She phases in.
A new vigor enters her actions as she fights, the ache disappearing from her flesh and bone, and the dryness leaving her mouth. She does not hesitate as she thrusts a sword into another Remnant-infested human being, even when she realizes it was once a dear friend, even when their blood spurts out to splash against her hand. It does not matter, she thinks lightly, because it is all for Valkyrie.
It is all for Darquesse.
4.
She is out to spy on Darquesse, or rather, to watch out for her. She is to kill anyone who might keep her in her guise of mere humanity, anyone who might encourage the health instead of Valkyrie - or worse, of Stephanie, the meaningless mundane. She had bristled, at that part of her instruction.
Fletcher walks up to the house, looking subdued, though his hair is still spiked, and her associate begins to lunge forward. Tanith stills him with a slit neck. It is quick, and more than that, it is silent. She catches a glance of Valkyrie, for it is Valkyrie that is opening the door and smiling at Fletcher, and she knows that the loss of her own lover of the past few months means absolutely nothing to her now. She feels no regret.
Not at hearing his strangled cough, not at watching him roll over, not even at looking into his empty eyes. She dislikes Fletcher, but she knows how much he means to the girl who hides in herself something that is so much more, and so Tanith protects him, and through him her. It is all for Valkyrie, after all.
It is all for Darquesse.
3.
She is walking the streets of London at night, drink in hand. She's not quite sober, but not nearly drunk enough for her taste yet. It annoys her no end, and so she's quietly, angrily bent on going home and drinking herself into a stupor, until she's able to forget the blood staining her hands, the men and women she has killed, the lives she's ended, and all the other horrible, wonderful she things she has done for the sake of the girl she so dearly loves.
At the moment, she is trailing this aforementioned beloved girl, footsteps and gait silent despite her intoxication. With every step she takes, a part of her longs to leave, to tread her own path, but she knows she won't, because nothing has meaning to her anymore apart from Valkyrie's continued existence.
She hears an incongruous sound, and it sets her on edge. She looks around briefly, and she sees the man, the leering, ugly mortal. She sees his knife shining out from the shadows, the way his hands shake. She kills him in a moment, without thinking, and it is an empty action. It is all for Valkyrie.
It is all for Darquesse.
2.
The battlefield again. Blood in her mouth, blood on her hands, blood staining her leather clothing. She's frightened inside, a weeping little child, covered in blood and drowning in her own shame. She is on autopilot, which is the only way she can bring herself to kill. If it were not for the memories held in her muscles, she would not even be here - she would be as stone, and she would be as a corpse.
If it were not for the memories in her muscles, and if it were not for the Remnant that is keeping her bound into these chains, then she would be long dead in the service of her love, the one she treasures the most in the world, the one who gives her a reason to continue, the one that binds her even closer to the Remnant, who gives it a way to claw into her mind and sink its teeth into her doubts and her wishes and her hopes.
She wants to break free, but then she doesn't, because she knows that she is stronger this way, that she is better able to help. It is all for Valkyrie.
It is all for Darquesse.
1.
She can't think straight, can't perceive the world as it really is. It is far too early in the morning, but she has to be awake, she absolutely has to be, or so she tells herself over and over, trying to kickstart the adrenaline buzz.
Darquesse is taking down the Sanctuary, at long last, and Tanith needs to help. It's an imperative that she feels in her teeth and her gut and her hands, in the blood that her heart is shoving through her body and in the tight coil of her muscles. She knows what she must do.
She's at Valkyrie's side, fighting with her sword and with her magic, and she is so engrossed in the violence that she doesn't even realize that it's Valkyrie she is next to, and not Darquesse. If she did, she might even have been shocked. She might have stopped, and she might have escaped, and then she might have died.
She doesn't, though, and so she fights and so she kills, continues on in the cycle she's been trapped in for months that have felt like more than her every other year. It is all for Valkyrie.
It is all for Darquesse.
0.
The battle is over. She looks up at Valkyrie's face, her beautiful, delicate, lovely face, framed by that lovely dark hair, with those lovely dark eyes, and those lovely red lips. She looks up at Valkyrie, and she sees an angel.
She sighs. She is happy, right now, every kind of blissful and content she's ever known to dream of, every kind of heaven, and so Tanith Low can slip right past the Remnant and into control.
There is recognition in Valkyrie's eyes. There are moments, and they are wondrous.
The balance shifts once more, though and the Remnant is back, and it is the end. There is nothing more to kill apart from the one she has destroyed so much for, and the Remnant would like that to be gone too, thank you very much.
Tanith doesn't, though, and all that she knows, in that last moment, is that she has done everything for her beloved - everything in her life, and everything about her death. So she musters up every strength she has ever had, and she turns her sword upon herself.
She kills herself, and she is happy. It is all for Valkyrie.
It is all for Darquesse.