I hope you enjoy the chapter. Nothing like brooding tension in someone's life to take the edge off!
The very next day, the Krieger woke before anyone else, he had had nightmares of every shape and color. Images and sounds from the biggest battles fought in the end years of his world. Images of him and the other slaves charging dozens upon dozens of yards ahead of the several hundred thousand warriors of The People behind him and the vast hordes of Hell before them all with no real expectation of survival.
The sky darkened above him and the wafting flames of the horde ahead reeked of ash and terror and the promise of a swift death.
The screams of the wounded and dying, and his own screaming.
The blood, the pain, the anger and the terror.
The slave bowed his head quietly as he begged for the easing of all of the spirits of his people into the afterlife. Gods above knew they deserved it.
He curled his bandaged hands carefully as he kneeled on his spot on the floor where he had slept. Discouragement rested on his mind as he noticed he felt just like he had felt his entire life: like a slave, despite the intensity of the previous day. Not only that but spirits or not, could his new masters betray him? Or use him as The People had? It was his burden, but it would have been cruel considering they had given him hopes and promises of kindness. A raw guilt scraped his conscience as he remembered how kind they had been to him. H should at least give them the benefit of the doubt he resolved.
He rose unsteadily and shook off the grip of last night's ungentle sleep.
The Krieger, feeling much like what he had lived as for years, began to explore his new home. Finding where everything went and how everything was arranged he proceeded to clean (which was very little as Crona and Maka cleaned the house every week to avoid buildup) and began to cook breakfast for his owner and her companion.
He was somewhat familiar with the contraptions in the house, both fridge and stove, having watched Maka do the cooking the night before. And he was familiar with the foodstuffs in the house which were not at all too foreign for him to not recognize what they were.
As he scrambled eggs and sausages in a small pan he remembered how much he hated cooking for his masters. Especially the Queen. But cooking was nice enough, he liked to cook. But they would always strike him if he took too long.
He hated a lot of things
-0-
Maka and Crona woke at the same time to the smell of breakfast. Both appeared from their respective rooms with their pajamas on and both looked at the exact same thing at the exact same time; the Krieger's back.
It was artfully crisscrossed with thin scars from whips and blades. There was very little flesh that looked its age on his back.
"Good morning…Crona" said the Krieger consciously using her name.
"And Maka"
Both girls returned the greeting somewhat unenthusiastically both staring at his back and trying very hard not to imagine what the acts that gave him those scars must have looked like.
The Krieger sped up in his cooking out of habit and expecting an attack if his cooking was not delivered immediately to its recipients. But swallowing hard and deciding to test them he slowed down and a little more time cooking and preparing the food.
"What are you making us?" asked Maka who cradled her head on her hands and looked at the Krieger feeling much more sympathetic towards him.
"This one thought he should return your kindness by cleaning your home and cooking a proper breakfast. Though this one doesn't have any of the typical ingredients from his world"
"And you cooked often?"
"Yes, this one's old masters would whip him if he didn't and if he didn't do it fast"
"Seems like they hit you for pretty much anything"
"They did"
"You don't seem too shaken up about it"
"When you are in constant pain, it's not as troublesome. And this one never really warranted one of the more artful punishments"
"Such as? Actually, forget I asked"
"As you wish" finished the Krieger as he gathered three plates and served each of them their meals. Both girls thanked him, although Crona was not hugely responsive, he felt she was not a morning person. He sat and ate his meal in silence watching every move, gesture or sign the girls gave for hints of deceit or danger.
To his skepticism he found none but eventually relaxed as the girls began to chat more as they woke up and inhaled the modest meal he had made for them.
After thanking him for the meal (a gesture for which he was overly gracious for) they led him out and to the shopping mall to buy him clothes. Getting there and going to many stores (and in every one of which all the customers gave them looks) they quickly realized that if it was not a button dress shirt they couldn't really properly put a shirt on the Krieger due to his horns. Moving on to pants he constantly gravitated to skirts as was the way of dress for his people. But they couldn't find anything that would fit him and not look distinctly girlish. Moving on to footwear he disdained laced shoes and preferred to walk barefoot.
Eventually they left the mall without having made a single purchase. On the way back however the Krieger spied a store for fabrics and there he ended up buying an old threading contraption that was there more for show than anything else and a substantial amount of red, lead black and orange thread. Along with that he also bought leather soles and patches of cheap leather. Neither girl questioned him as they helped lug his buys back to their home where he proceeded to begin weaving clothing with speed and a practiced hand.
"So you can cook and weave clothing. What else can you do?"
"This one can read and write, fight too, and this one learned a bit about building as well"
Maka frowned at the awkward answer, usually the answer to a question like hers would be something like hobbies or sports, not possessing the ability to read and write.
"So have you thought of a name?" asked Crona as a smile came to her face. She was kind of excited to be helping the Krieger, or just someone really, as Maka had helped her.
The Krieger looked out the window suddenly, hesitant to say he had not and hadn't really chosen a name. He quickly thought of a title that existed in his world, it was "Cerjoh". It meant caretaker, servant, guardian. I was given to those who were not of the same blood as a family but nonetheless were in a sense part of it due to their willing bond of loyalty, friendship and love.
In the last years of the war with Hell it was a rare title. Everyone looked out for their own, it was difficult enough to follow the demands of the Queen without bleeding more for others.
"Cerjoh"
"You mean Sergio?"
"Yes" he said, "It sounds the same" he thought. "Hopefully it's not the word for a disease or a foul word on this world"
"That's a nice name. Ser-gio" said Crona, "It suits you"
"Thank you, Ser-gi-o" he answered, rolling the word in his tongue.
"So, Sergio, tell me about yourself" asked Crona I her modest voice following the steps that Maka had taken with her after they had met.
The Krieger smiled earnestly, he liked the name, having one of his own was nice. But it did not feel like a permanent thing, more like a temporary and unserious thing like a child's game.
"This one does not have a story to tell. He was born Slave and has served until The People came to the Spirit World and Crona took him"
"I meant: What are the details of your life?" asked Crona. Although she had to admit, until she had come to the academy it had been little more than pain throughout her entire life. There was nothing really to say.
"This one was handed to many owners as a child. He was instructed by them on his duties and the laws of the People. But because he has magic he was given to the Daemon Hunters for training as is proper"
Crona and Maka both looked at him, impressed and now curious both began to ask. Sergio did little more than rapidly weave the threads and crisscross the patches into distinctive patterns of his people.
"Daemon Hunters? What are they?" asked Maka as she imagined the Krieger's fellows striking down the beasts that had assailed them little more than a day ago. Although it had been a brief skirmish it had been brutal and horrifying to witness.
"In my world lies Hell, and in it lie daemons. The Daemon Hunters slay them. We are very skilled at this"
"So it's like us as Meisters and the Kishin?"
Sergio looked up at her curiously.
"Meisters are people who are trained at the academy by Death to hunt other people who are trying to become Kishin which are this world's daemons"
The Krieger smiled savagely as he looked up from his work which was taking shape quickly.
"Do Crona and Maka slay daemons then?"
"Yes"
"Then we are kin-in-arms. This one is proud of this"
Maka smiled lightly as did Crona, immediately the events of the previous year came to her mind where she had been instrumental in the attempt of awakening the daemon under the academy. Her mother, Medusa, was a witch to wished the daemon revived and had made Crona into a freakish weapon combining a daemonic weapon, Ragnarok, into her blood as a child. She was well on her way to becoming one of the daemons that both the academy and Sergio hunted. But the attempt had failed and her mother had been slain in the subsequent collapse of the Kishin's shrine with her cohorts, but Maka spared her and befriended her instead and Death allowed her to come into the academy to study and become and ally Meister. She had never been more happy in her life. But she had also never been more ashamed because after having worked to become a Kishin from her own free will at the behest of her mother she now bore the very real guilt of trying to make up for all the suffering she had caused.
But she felt a crude anxiety at the thought of Sergio becoming aware that she was in a way part daemon, so she chose ignore that part of her history, should he ask.
"May this one ask about Crona? Where did she come from?"
Maka quieted and looked at Crona, she had likely thought about the same thing concerning her past and chose to not say anything.
"I was a slave too, believe it or not"
At this the Krieger looked at her open mouthed and confused.
"But, how? You are not responsible for the failings of The People how can Crona be a Slave? And how did she get her collar off?"
The trio exchanged looks of confusion.
"Sergio, I think we are losing something in translation. Slaves to us are people who have had their freedom taken away from them and are used for labor. Crona, didn't Death say slaves to them are people who are being punished for their king's actions?"
"Slaves in this world are made? That is abominable!" started the Krieger before looking down at his work once again digesting the difficult information.
"But then what about you? Aren't you mad you were a slave?" asked Crona
"No, it just this one deserves-" Sergio held his comment back as he reached back in his mind for a way to explain that this was the way it had to be, it was all and those like him deserved. He continued to weave, trying very hard to ignore the considerations that had been given to him. "It's just, in the moment The People and Hell went to war with one another, The Great Betrayer, our King, consorted with the daemons and risked the defeat of our entire race. For this, his descendants have been punished, and I am one of them"
"How long ago did this happen, Sergio?"
"Seven hundred years ago"
"What? But that's not fair to you"
"It was not too long ago, it has only been four generations"
"Just four? How long do you guys live?"
"A hundred and fifty to two hundred years. Why?"
Crona and Maka went on to explain the briefness of human life to Sergio's confusion. Then about the difference between slaves in their world and the world of the Kriegers, Sergio very readily told them the list of laws that applied to him. He could never marry, he could never claim ownership of anything, he could not be befriended by anyone, he could not be shown kindness but any that was would reflect well on the piety of anyone of The People who deigned to do it. He had to mate with another Slave when he reached the age of twenty, sixty and one hundred and eighty to continue the bloodline. He was to serve The People as if they were all his owners but he was the special property of the Queen's family as the Slaves had been divided between many hundreds of families as reparations for direct harm caused by the King's betrayal. He could never marry nor bond with a spiritual mate nor could he ever have any contact with his children.
At every point Crona asked him why, or what was the point and to every question Sergio answered flatly and casually. He did point out happily that although he was of age to breed for the first time he had been spared because of the war's end. He mused that perhaps the Queen had considered that his people would be wiped out and their burden ended. A mercy, he said it was.
"You said something about a collar, can't you take yours off?" asked Crona as she reached to touch the bulky thing. Sergio flinched, he was never touched by the collar without it being to jerk him by it or to use a "wand" on him.
"This one cannot, this collar is enchanted and will kill me if this one does. And no one in The People would ever willingly or unwillingly remove it" he said as he finished weaving the first fold of his new skirt.
"It can kill you?"
The Krieger nodded solemnly as he continued to weave rapidly from the spool of the old machine.
Crona kneeled down by him and touched the collar lightly. The Krieger continued his work but eyed her nervously. Inspecting the back of his collar she found its clamps, which were simple but ornate. The mechanism was indented into the dense metal of his collar as to avoid being unclasped by accident. The half-daemon wanted to unclasp the collar and remove the dreadful thing off his neck, he was a good person she could tell. It had been so difficult to take off her own collar to Medusa in her mind and heart but he had a very real sign of bondage on his body. Taking it off might help him, if he did it, it would hurt him he said, but as she saw it she could remove it safely.
Reaching into the little indentation behind his collar she curved her finger around the clasp. No sooner did she do so did the Krieger turn and grip her wrist in his hand.
"What are you doing?" he said bristling.
Crona's expression became sheepish and shy, "I-I just thought I should take off the collar"
"Why?"
"Because it's kind of dreadful and I just thought it would be a good idea to take it off you. You don't need to wear it anymore, you are free"
Sergio suppressed a snarl and eased his grip. "This one will never be free. Also, this collar is his physical commitment to The People, he would never allow it to be removed" he said patiently.
"Sergio, it's not your fault. What happened with the king wasn't your fault, you should be free. You don't need to wear a slave collar to want to help your people"
The Krieger looked at her, peeved he continued to weave. "Crona doesn't understand" he mumbled quietly forgetting his manners again and resenting his name's meaning. How could he be tied to people willingly who didn't understand the burden he carried and why he had to carry it.
"If he wants to wear his collar let him. If he doesn't break the chains in his heart and his mind it doesn't matter if you take it off him or tell him he's free" started Maka as she focused on the patterns he wove for his clothing.
Crona frowned, she wanted to help but she was right. It had taken her a long time to break the chains Medusa had wrapped around her, she wasn't even sure if she was really free. What would she do if Medusa came back? Though she was dead of course, she could be grateful for that much.
-0-
The weekend went on at an uneventful pace, the two girls studied and the Krieger did little more than finish his weaving. By Sunday night he had made himself a pair of boots, a set of pants and a skirt to go over them and a wrap for his torso and sleeves to the same like a kimono. The contrasts of lead and red looked good as did the overlapping patterns. Maka commented that he could make a fair amount of money if he sold his makings, to which the Krieger modestly replied that his weaving was not good enough and he didn't have the right to sell anything he made and it was free for anyone to take from him. Kidd and his two partners came to visit them later during the day, the younger of the two overwhelmed the suddenly shy Krieger with attention and questions regarding his horns. By the end of the afternoon she had tied several ribbons to them and had forced him to play rapid game of patty cake, a game for which he did not have the minimum amount of coordination for.
Kidd was impressed with the Krieger he had heard so much about, he recognized the calluses on his hands and the way he moved as one who knew how to fight. He also inquired to the Krieger about his magical abilities, to which Sergio replied humbly, he was good enough nothing more.
"Hmm interesting, and you can channel your own energy to create a series of physical effects? You must have a powerful soul"
"A strong gift rather and the heart to control it. This one would never draw on witchcraft however, dealings with daemons are forbidden and they are my mortal enemies"
"Witches don't really deal with daemons in our world. Witchcraft is an art and an innate gift like your magic"
"This one understands, but what is the fixation of you spirits-I mean people with souls?"
"One's soul is what generates one's power. I am unsure of how you see it in your world but I can see a hint of your spirit and I can assure you it's what releases your power"
"So you say it is not something I have but rather it is in my very spirit?"
"Precisely, it's not like being born with blonde hair or a mole but rather it's an inseparable part of your essence"
As Kidd finished explaining Sergio seemed to drop his head sulkily.
"Magic is what marks this one as a Slave"
"What?"
"Don't get him started, I'll explain later" said Maka as she stretched herself on her chair. "I'm tired of being cooped up, let's go for a walk". The group agreed and set out to the quiet forests by the city. Upon reaching them they found Sid guarding the paths into the reserves.
"What's wrong Sid? Why are academy agents with you?"
The teacher shook his head worriedly.
"A band of daemons set up shop in the park. They got by our sweep somehow and ended up here, they've been holding hostages for the past half hour since they appeared"
Sergio seemed to straighten and look past the teacher into the forest. He could see the far glow of fires not a long way into the reserve. His gentle demeanor transformed into a predatory gaze as he walked a little past his fellows.
"We've tried to approach them but they hold their hostages to their swords every time we get close. It looks like they are carving something into the earth"
"A summoning circle" started the Krieger as he sprinted into the forest with a speed he had never shown before.
Despite admonishments to stay back by the agents and Sid he passed them effortlessly and continued into the darkness.
"He's going to get the hostages killed! All agents hold your positions and take out-" started Sid into his ear piece before Crona interrupted him.
"No, please wait Mr. Sid. He's a Daemon Hunter, let us go in after him, I'm sure he knows what he's doing"
The teacher looked around for an instant
"Go on. Kidd, make sure nothing happens to them or the hostages"
"Of course, these daemons are going to pay for this" he threatened as he and his two partners drew their weapons and followed in after their comrade.
-0-
An impish daemon finished his carving and chattered wildly at his stronger and bulkier kin. At this the strongest of the lot reached down and clasped one of the battered and stripped hostages and dragged her kicking and screaming towards the circle.
It smiled through black gums and silvery fangs as the woman shrieked clearly sensing her end. But the smile died on his lips as he saw before anyone else a bolt of lightning race towards the imp and the subsequent explosion of gore and steaming blood as he heard a chilling declaration erupt from the forest.
"Tol'gazarath!" screamed a dressed Krieger slave as it burst from one of the paths and halted its sprint towards them.
The fiend barked and order and the dozen remaining daemons held their blades above their heads over the hostages.
More humans joined behind the Krieger and stopped short with clear expressions of shock in their faces as they saw the daemon and his kin clearly.
The Slave held up a hand and closed it into a fist as he brought it slamming down in one fluid movement towards the ground. Following the motion a clear pull through the air dragged the hostages and the woman he had in hand ripping from their positions to between him and the other humans who quickly moved in front of the frightened cattle.
The Krieger surged forward and slapped a spear away as it was thrown at him then clasped it and snapped it in two as he continued his mad charge.
The daemon leader swallowed hard as it ululated for his kin to slay the Krieger.
The monsters surrounded the Krieger swiftly and struck at empty air as the slave dodged and parried with his two batons. In a flurry of blows he would strike solitary and deafeningly loud blows to the knees or faces of the daemons. With a swerve he stabbed his spear head into the neck of one of the daemons and snatched the creature's blade with his spare hand then carved it across another's chest.
One by one in the fluid choreography of battle the daemons fell under a brutal blow from the Krieger or slew one another by his martial misdirection of their blades. Upon losing both his weapons he fought with his bandaged fists. The daemons began to lose even more ground in moral as he countered their swings as they were being made with his limbs upon their weapons' edges.
Twisting and striking he slew daemon after daemon, the stink of ozone and lightning began to permeate from his body as he channeled lethal electricity through his blows until only the last beast stood, towering over him with an expression of dread.
He held his enormous maul over his goring horns in defense as he howled a challenge in a language that hurt the ears of those present save the Krieger who simply walked over to the pile of battle trophies they had acquired and took a rectangular blade that clearly matched Krieger design and a similar mace with a cruel blade at its top.
The Krieger charged the daemon gleefully and the monster brought the maul down upon him with as much strength as it could muster. His challenger blocked the blow by crossing his weapons and swerving to his right, bringing both weapons slicing by his shin. The daemon bent a knee and kicked out at his opponent whom he struck aside clearly and onto his back which rapidly turned to his feet as the Krieger regained his footing with ease.
Charging again the daemon summoned an incantation and blew fire from his mouth in a waterfall of flames which engulfed the Krieger's form before being blown back and dispelled by a visible sonic boom emanating from the slave.
Not an instant later the Krieger was upon him again. One blow separated his hand from his wrist and another knocked aside the maul. The third blow disemboweled the daemon as it retreated, crawling on its back and away from its executioner.
The group of humans looked at the Krieger with awe as it raised its weapon above its head for the final blow.
Smiling and coughing up blood the daemon bellowed a word of power and he was obliterated as the runes on the ground absorbed his blood and in an explosion of fire which threw back the Krieger into the group of bystanders a greater daemon appeared.
Now the Krieger and the others stepped back fearfully as the fiery monster stood and screamed with a voice like a roaring fire. It stepped out of its summoning circle as its immolating body encased in pieces of black metal flamed wildly, it heaved upon its shoulders an axe that could slay dragons in a single blow and smiled through its burning maw at the little mortals before it.
The hostages ran, screaming for their lives and only Maka, Kidd, Crona and Sergio stood their ground.
"Tol'gazarath!" screamed the Krieger at it as he stabbed his weapons into the soft ground and snapped his arms aside as they lit up with current and lightning emanating from the core of his body.
"This one will end you before you cause anymore destruction, abomination!" growled Sergio under his breath.
His eyes widened as the monster moved with a speed that was terrifying to the senses considering its bulk and mass. Within his heart he hesitated as he saw the blade come for his head faster than he could react.
He was finally going to die. The Krieger felt fear bloom anew in his heart, he didn't want to die, he wanted to live.
In the blink of an eye where he expected his life to end he saw Crona's black blade block the beast's blow with a force that was physically impossible considering her thin frame and thin arms. He saw a mouth open on the blade of her sword and scream harder than he had ever heard anything exert its voice and the daemon stumbled back in agony as it grasped at its head.
"Screech Alpha" said Crona clearly as with a swing of her blade a violet, black slice of energy engulfed the daemon and flung it backwards into its back.
The Krieger's spirit swelled. His master had protected him! She had not only spared his life and been kind to him to boot but she had actually risked her own to protect his! This could not be! He had to increase his devotion a hundred fold for his master! She was too kind, absolutely too kind!
With a scream he unleashed a torrent of lightning from his renewed spirits into the beast and it bellowed in pain as it rose unsteadily to its feet. Flinching backwards from a barrage of blows of energy from six banging metallic contraptions Kidd and his two partners had produced in each hand the daemon withered under the abuse before roaring back and renewing the fire from its body. In doing so it didn't notice the Scythe Meister sprint past him and gouge her weapon deep into its ankle bringing it to its knees in pain.
The daemon brought his weapon forward to block a blow from Crona's screaming blade only to drop its weapon from the bone shaking vibrations from her own weapon. Rolling with her momentum she stabbed the blade deep into the monster's gut causing it to scream anew towards the heavens.
How dare these mortals! He would rip them apart!
As the beast cleared its eyes it saw the Krieger bearing down on his face from an impossible jump. The daemons intensified the flames from his body to the temperature of a smith's forge making all his opponents fall back under the flame's punishing influence and he swatted the Krieger down.
Bringing his axe across like a half moon of hellish metal he cut across the Krieger's chest and the thin flesh thereof.
The Krieger fell to his knees for an instant before he channeled energy into his sword and charged forward. The daemon saw the whitish blue energy from his rectangular blade and desperately swung at the slave who only pressed in past his defense. Failing to protect itself the daemon brought his hand to his chest where the Krieger's blade stabbed and pushed into in an attempt to reach its heart.
The fiery monster screamed in agony as it brought his free hand in to crush the desperate Krieger but that hand too was disabled as the same mortal with the black sword appeared back to back with the Krieger and impaled the other hand in an effort to protect him. She used the momentum from the monster's swing to push her own body onto the Krieger's and help him push his own blade into the other hand. The monster screeched fearfully as he drew his hand away only to have it maimed by her sword whose straight edge had morphed into hooks and teeth within his flesh. Upon drawing the hand away the mortal with the scythe sprinted in and stood to protect her partner from his mangled claw. The mortal with the black sword in turn yelled "Screech Gamma" and a blinding series of strikes raked and flensed charcoal flesh from his hand until the bare flaming bones were left drenched in fiery blood. The Krieger's blade pushed in was stuck in the bone but was freed as the mortal with the black sword stabbed her own weapon into the wound and the white sword found its way into the monster's chest.
The beast reared back to roar but its bellow was cut short as in a visceral and fiery blast of white energy ripped through its form. Everything within its body was blasted out of its back.
Toppling back the daemon fell dead, its fires dying out with its spirit.
Climbing up on its chest with the momentum of its fall he pushed his blade into its chest to the hilt.
Maka breathed heavily and noticed she was shaking, "I can't believe we killed it". She turned around to look at Crona and Sergio and the dead monstrosity that was a daemon from the Krieger's world. Suddenly she could keenly understand Sergio's world, these were their adversaries for the past seven hundred years. She shrunk at the thought of having to fight those monsters every day of her life as he had.
The Krieger drew out his blade and chopped it again and again with yelps of pain and agony into the monster's chest. His strikes intensified and he began to scream as he continued to strike the monster after its embers had died out.
"This one hates you, hates you, hates you, hates you, hates you!" screeched the Krieger as he continued to mutilate the dead body.
"You do not deserve to exist! You must not exist! This one will slay every last one of your kind! The People will wipe this world clean of your filth until only your bones remain and your young all lie hanging from the trees in pieces!" screamed the slave as he continued his promises of war and death upon his slain adversary.
All those present felt afraid to approach their ally, his frenzied attacks and declarations were disturbing. Crona realized her charge was neither a hunter nor a slave, he was a zealot. She realized she was not looking at anger, she was looking at real hatred.
The Krieger crawled off the monster, sheathing his weapons into the folds of his clothing, then clutched at his running wound as his hands shook from anger.
He approached his comrades with an angry snarl, not at them but at the creatures.
"C'mon Sergio, let's get that wound looked at" said Kidd trying very hard to ignore his outburst.
The Krieger nodded as he stumbled quietly from pain as the adrenaline wore off.
Crona brought her free arm around his shoulders and wrapped her arm across his waist to help him walk. She noticed he had a very dreamy look on his face as he beamed at her; there was a degree of adoring gratitude in him.
"This one will kill every single one of these beasts alongside the academy. Their influence will be expunged before it festers, this one swear it. As will the influence of these "Kishin", thieves of souls, those abominations will also be destroyed as will anyone who strives to become one" he said weakly but smiling widely at her.
Crona smiled back weakly.
She shivered fearfully as did Ragnarok who quietly sat inside her, hoping dearly the Krieger wouldn't ask how he came to be inside her.
