The New Adventures of Patroklos and Pyrrha
By Matthias Glenn
Chapter Two: Persons of Memories Past
(September 17th, 1610, Istanbul, Ottoman Empire)
There was only one word Pyrrha could think of when she saw what the Royal courtyard had turned into. Chaos. The formerly beautiful gardens were trampled. The spring and fountains now had the blood of soldiers fused with its pure waters. Soldiers lay now where only carpets and rugs once did. And instead of the playing of flute, there was only the screams of pain.
She staggered back at the site of it. With her clutching Soul Edge and seeing the flames that were lapping up what peace there was left, it reminded her of what she used to be. She breathed out heavily, and thought to herself.
I'm not the monster anymore. They are.
"PYRRHA!" she finally heard, after being to her own thoughts for a while. The sound came from her brother, hoping to catch her attention.
"Yes? Brother!?" she looked around, only to find him standing right in front of her the whole time.
"I need you to focus right now." He put her hands on her shoulders, and forced her to make eye contact. "These guards will die if we do not act."
"Right. Where should I go?" she eyed the situation frantically.
"There's a dozen swordsman over there, about to be swarmed by Malfested. Hurry to them."
"I got it." She said, dashing away from her brother. She hurdled an overturned cards table and drew her sword while in mid-air. Once her feet touched the ground, she heard her sword's familiar voice.
"Let us hunt, Pyrrha."
Pyrrha began by slashing at a barely armored Malfested woman, knocking her down and bleeding her out. A reddish-black essence came from the slain woman's body, and crept into Soul Edge. She then hit another tall Malfested with her shield. When he was on the ground, she stabbed downward into his chest, killing him within minutes. The essence from this one also collected. She tried to finish another rather hideous Malfested, but it took it's rather large sword, and forced her to raise her shield in defense.
In a hideous, and unorthodox manner, it preceded to whale on her shield, perhaps attempting to break it. Its strike were ungodly fast, and Pyrrha was forced to crouch. She remained stalwart, but had no idea how to escape her attacker.
"The leg, foolish girl. The beast's leg!"
Pyrrha then noticed that the Malfested had armor only from the waist upward. Its leg, while still very muscular, was vulnerable nonetheless. She inched towards him while still blocking his blows. When close enough, she stabbed Soul Edge into his knee. The scream that came from it was pitiable and violent. But when the assault stopped, she ripped Soul Edge out of the wound and sliced the ugly Malfested in his neck, cutting off his head. It fell to the ground without another sound.
She finally arrived where the dozen swordsman were.
"Can I help?"
The good news was that there was a soldier there that knew her language. The bad news was that he didn't quite like her presence.
"You can by fleeing here. The battlefield is no place for a woman."
He was trying to be a gentleman, but Pyrrha saw the situation as being more than he could handle. She pointed to her miniature trail of destruction.
"Tell that to those Malfested."
The swordsman who spoke her language peeked over her shoulder, and stopped briefly. He nodded in approval.
"Okay, most women. Still does not mean running isn't the best idea right now."
"You are not here to fail Sultan Ahmed. Neither am I."
"If we are going to keep this palace, we need to get those archers…" The swordsman pointed to a chamber, where he probably commanded them to stay. "… into the four battle towers we have. Their arrows will help to thin out these cursed beings."
"I agree." Pyrrha said, still looking at the chamber. "How many do we have?"
"We have forty at our disposal, the rest have been dispatched to the palace walls and the throne room to protect His Excellency."
"They're all we've got."
"Exactly."
"Let's not waste them." Pyrrha eyed the closest tower. There were about twenty Malfested making sure no one got inside. "Signal ten of them to come toward that tower when they see my sword glow red. The rest of you, follow me. We're going to secure it."
He spoke to the other eleven in their native tongue, and they started to follow Pyrrha. The Malfested started to notice them, and a brave few charged out. They were collectively cut down, while Pyrrha kept advancing towards the tallest one. He had an axe that she was sure could fall any one of the mere men behind her. Her sword took time to compliment her, if not throw her off.
"Strategic, brave, and courteous. Perhaps I was right in choosing you."
The giant, but rather foolish, Malfested planted his axe into the ground when he aimed to split Pyrrha into halves. Pyrrha then, in an act of extreme balance, ran up the stick of the axe and jumped at the giant. She planted her sword into his chest, then kicked herself off of him, watching him fall back. He hit the ground with a thud, crushing another unfortunate Malfested beneath him.
The other soldiers had better luck with the weaker Malfested, and all eleven soldiers were able to survive.
"Consume, Soul Edge, and glow."
The essences started to feed the blade, and as Pyrrha predicted, its glow was red. But it was brighter than expected, as to the point that Pyrrha had to look away from it.
The soldier then followed out with ten of the forty archers. They filed into the thirty-foot structure, and a few minutes later, arrows flied out of the windows, killing some upon impact.
"Your idea worked…" Pyrrha then remembered that the soldier had not divulged a name for her to remember.
"Yusuf." Said the soldier. "Now, we need to take the other ones."
The other three battle towers were easier to take for two reasons. The archers helped enormously by suppressing the Malfested in the way of Pyrrha's company. The second was that she got Patroklos to help with the towers she didn't have time to reach. By the time the two of them freed a third tower, there were more arrows in the air than flies feasting on the dead bodies. The Malfested would need a little more influencing to retreat, but not much more.
When Yusuf and the eleven cleared out the opposing Malfested, Pyrrha had a strange urge that something was not right inside of the tower. She went inside before any of the archers did.
"I just need to clear it out before anyone else gets hurt." She said to Yusuf before charging the door.
The battle tower winded up and up, like Rapunzel's in the fairy tales her mother told her. It almost seemed unnecessary, the amount of stairs there were, and how dark it was when the torches were not lit.
Pyrrha kicked open the door. She was greeted by a fist to the face.
She staggered back, and was blinded, disorientated, and infuriated all in one soup of feelings. Her vision was coming to when she was violently picked up and dragged to a cutout in the tower. She knew that whoever was holding her probably wouldn't just throw her out. Until she saw who had her in her grips.
Her pale skin, slim figure, and her purple eyes with a crazy spark of some kind were in them, were unmistakable. The clothes may have changed, as Pyrrha noted, but the sociopath didn't.
"Didn't I tell you to knock before entering?" Tira said in her shrill voice. She then kicked Pyrrha, sending her crashing towards the ground.
The battle towers were not that tall, so Pyrrha lived after her back hit the tiles. But it certainly hurt, as she cried out in pain. Time and space seemed to slow to a snail's pace, as she tried to grab Soul Edge, which was only an arm's reach away. She knew if she could clutch the sword again, the rejuvenating process could begin. Then, she could take on Tira at full strength.
A foot stepped on her wrist, and Tira picked up the sword. She had probably switched to her gloomy personality, as she carried her ring blade as if it were some massive burden. This was confirmed when she leaned in, and maliciously whispered.
"Mine."
She took Soul Edge, and looked at it in the way one would admire a wedding ring, or their reflection.
Pyrrha knew she would be killed if she didn't figure something out. But what? She had time, for Tira started to speak to Soul Edge.
"Remember me? I know I remember you. I used to have so much fun with you around. You were cruel. You were unruly. You were greedy. You were out of your damned mind."
She sighed. "We had so much in common."
Tira did not change her position, still keeping a hold on Pyrrha. This rendered her helpless.
"We even made friends, believe it or not. There was the mummy who… did that thing with his body. There was that Egyptian guy with the scythe that claimed he was going to outlive all of us. There was that big guy with the axe. There was that vampire duelist and his little brat. There was even that blonde chick with the shield and the sister with attachment problems. Those were the days."
Was she talking about my mother on the last part? Pyrrha thought. But she did know one thing: The last words she was going to hear before dying were not going to be Tira's.
"Let me go, you -"
She was met with a brief and painful slap to the face. "Manners." She said in that still gloomy voice. "We're talking right now, can't you see that?"
She looked back at the blade, and spoke.
"See, but the funniest thing happened: they all failed you. They all abandoned you when the big glowing guy showed up with that other sword. But did I run? Did I fail you? Did I disobey any of your orders? NO!"
Pyrrha hoped that Patroklos, or Yusuf, or anyone with a sharp object would notice her. But so far, it was just her, and her former handler.
"So why is it that when it came time to pick the next wielder, you…. picked…. her?"
Tira's gaze was now fixed on Pyrrha.
"Look at her! She's timid. She's prettier, but still weaker than me. And worst of all, she just doesn't get the fun of killing people." Tira inched closer and closer as she talked. She sat on Pyrrha's waist, which freed her arms. Pyrrha formed her left hand into a fist, and tried to swing it at Tira, but her former master was faster. She sliced into Pyrrha's wrist, which was a pain sharp enough to make her quit trying.
"See how she even cries when hurt." Tira rolled her eyes. "Honestly, I don't even see the appeal."
Tira then held the blade high above Pyrrha's head. "So you know what we're going to do next? I'm going to kill her… with you… while you're watching! Feast your eye as I dispatch your precious little vessel."
Pyrrha drew in one sharp breathe.
"Then, it'll be just you and I again. Just like it was meant to be."
Pyrrha should've felt the sting of death. She should've seen the light, then the fields of Elysium. And her mother and father again.
But, for some reason, she didn't. All she heard instead was a thud. A thud that knocked Tira off of her, and even sent her skidding a few feet on the tile.
"Get off of Pyrrha, you hag of the demons." Said a strong, stark, and sassy voice. She couldn't see who it was, but she did see that the woman carried a shield and sword, just like she did and Patroklos used to. Speaking of Patroklos, he ran to Pyrrha and hoisted her up.
"Easy, sister. You're safe now." While she regained her balance, Patroklos picked up Soul Edge and gave it to her. Pyrrha started to heal back, starting with her damaged spine and working its magic from there. She used the rest of her energy to figure out just what was going on. She had no idea who this stranger was, but she was certainly disturbing Tira in a way she had never seen before.
"No. No, no, no, no, no, no, NO! You? Again!?" Tira clenched her head in frustration.
"Yeah, me. Again." The woman said back, sword pointed at her.
"You are surrounded, Tira." Patroklos said, as the remainder of Amhed's swordsman made an impenetrable perimeter around the stressed Tira. "Your Malfested have retreated, and whoever was in charge has abandoned you. Surrender peacefully, and at least you'll still have your breathes as an ally."
"Patroklos…. Pyrrha… and Cass-… This is not happening. This is not happening!"
"Just get her in chains already." The shield maiden said to Yusuf. "I think she's too out of it to put up a fight anyway."
"We should've killed you while we had the chance." Tira said to herself repeatedly while being dragged away. "We should've killed you while we had the chance. We should've killed you!"
"Man…" said the woman, now aiming her words at Pyrrha. "Brash, brave, and so determined to handle everything yourself."
Pyrrha gasped in shock, as she looked at her aunt, Cassandra Alexander.
"You're just like your mother, you know that?"
