IV. The Beating Of His Heart
Ryan closed the door behind them, and locked it. He hadn´t wanted to stop, but Fouquet had insisted in taking a breath in this little cottage for whatever reason, so he went along with it. H didn´t think they were taking a huge risk, they had already left their pursuers behind a lot time ago, he just didn´t like the idea of essentially wasting their time. He followed the thief to the center of the building, and watched as she set down the case on the top of a desk. He found himself leaning forward, despite everything. It was one more piece of the puzzle of this new world, and, if it was as powerful as is name indicated, it would be useful to him when Reconquista decided to kill him off. Fouquet unlocked the case, and opened it.
Inside, there was a big and thin green tube. On its side, there were words or runes scribled that he wouldn´t react. Ryan frowned. It didn´t look like much. He knew that looks were always were deceitful, but, really, what would something like this do? It was hard to believe this was a weapon, in the first place. But, well, he was not stupid. Didn´t look impressive, that much was true, but if it was not a powerful weapon they wouldn´ have kept it locked behind a vault. Fouquet picked the Staff up, though it didn´t look at all like a staff, and started waving it around, muttering an incantation under her breath. For a moment, Ryan worried it was some sort of amplifier and that reckless idiot was going to blow them up, but nothing happened. Nothing. Not even a spark.
"What the hell?" She sneered. "How is this supposed to work, then?"
"We don´t know, and we shouldn´t care, either." Ryan said. Fouquet turned sharply towards him. "In the first place, our job is to get that thing to the Headquarters and nothing more."
"So what of it? Image we get cornered. We would use this thing to get out of it, but first we have to figure out of it works."
"The longer we stay here, the bigger the odds of something like that happening get. And it looks like you won´t figure it out."
"I know that, you bastard!" She screamed, and then, more softly, like she was on the verge of tears: "I know. So, if you are so fucking smart, suggest something."
Ryan looked at that so called staff. Dimly, that small black thing, surrounded by some kind of handle, cached his attention. Something occurred to him, then: it was like a bow. That thing was some kind of trigger. And the arrows were, maybe, preloaded spells that came out for the other side of the tube. Everything he knew told him it was not possible, but this was a different world. So, he pointed to that thing.
"Aim at something, and press that."
"Uh? That thing? Fine." Fouquet muttered, aimed at the table, muttered an incantation under her breath and, when finished, pressed that strange trigger. There was a some sort of click, but, again, nothing happened. She scowled. "Now what?"
He opened his mouth, and then something hit in the back, driving him back against the wall and bouncing him out of it, screaming. He was only dimly aware that he had lost his sword. It fell to the ground, rolled, and came to a stop when it hit a corner. Then, there was one more hit on his chest and his things crashed against the legs of the desk, and he fell, bringing the table down with him. Ryan stood up shakily, ears ringing and lifted a hand surrounded by fire. He had time to recognize that man in the courtyard, surrounded by a great snake made out of fire, before he shot the fireball. Fire shot out of the man´s staff, and it dissipated his own fireball like it was nothing.
"You!" The man screamed. The snake of fire writhed, like his shape was nothing but a temporary cage. The glass for a nearby cabinet shattered suddenly, sending broken glass flying. "You!"
Ryan launched himself forward, hand extending towards his sword. A fireball exploded near him, sending him stumbling back and the sword flying out of the window. He somehow righted himself, and jumped out of the window. He hit the ground, rolled, got to his feet again and ran for it. There was an explosion behind it, but it didn´t matter. No for now. He picked up his sword, and turned towards the cottage just in time to hear a distinctively feminine scream. Fouquet was probably dead, then. No matter. Cromwell didn´t say anything about keeping her alive. A moment later, the window he had jumped through and part of the walk melted, and that man nonchalantly stepped over the ashes and went outside, towards him. Ryan didn´t move.
"Why?" The man spat out, and another gush of fire shot out towards him. Ryan stepped out of the way. "Why did you kill her?"
Ryan didn´t answer, and cut down a fireball aimed at his heart in half. Combat was not a place for words. But if he would have send him a though, he would have sent this one: Why? Don´t fuck me with me. She tried to take away my freedom. Nobody has that right, no matter how strong or big they are. I may be be nothing but a husk that refuses to die, but I finally got my freedom and I rather go hollow that live caged once more, driven by the whims of some higher power. I kill all you fuckers. I have done so before, and this time will be no different.
"Answer me!" The man screamed, and a fireball went whirled past his head. He didn´t even have to dodge. That idiot was so shaken up that is aim was throw off. "Do you heard me, you monster?!"
Ryan stood his ground, and kept slashing the fireballs away, while maintained a healthy distance between them. His frenzied attacks were too fast for him to attack, but he eventually would burn himself up. Such a strategy was risky, since it would just prolong the battle and increase the chances of more people finding them, but he didn´t have the luxury of doing anything else. He had already died once. He missed his stride, and a fireball hit him right in the chest, sending him flying. His back hit a tree, and slumped down to the ground, holding back a scream. He defiantly raised his head towards that man, and unleashed the Force Miracle when he got close enough. The shock wave knocked him off his feet. Ryan stood up, lifted his sword above his head and aimed for his heart. That man moved, and the sword dug deep into the ground, just a few inches for his face. He was about to lift the sword once more, when he felt it and lifted his head. A ball of flame was floating right over him.
"What..."
"Die." The man said, coldly and then Ryan understood, but it was too late. The ball of flame exploded harmlessly, but then his vision briefly went white, felt the air being sucked for his lugs and suffocated before he could do anything.
Ryan opened his eyes, moaning weakly. He was laying on the grass, and that man was standing over him, still holding into his staff and screaming at him, hitting him strongly in the head with clenched fits. It spun. It took him a few moment to realize he was not holding his sword, and even more to make out his words, punctuated by each strike.
"You don´t deserve to live! Bastard, you are nothing but a monster! Whatever reason you may have doesn´t matter, it never mattered. She was just a child! A child! She had a life! Dreams! And you destroyed it all, and for what?! Because you are a selfish fuck?! Because you got off when you watched her bleeding out, sprawled on the ground?! Uh? Is that it?! Is that it, you bast...?!"
Ryan dug his hands on the man´s neck, and pressed. He gasped, and his hands went to pry off his own, but he was stronger that him. Much stronger. They didn´t even budge. He tried to gasp out an incantation, but he just pressed harder. His eyes bulged. His face gradually loss color. Ryan would almost fell the force that man´s movements had leaving him. Then, he twitched, once, and went still. He searched for a pulse, just in case it was some kind of trick. None. He threw the corpse aside, stood up, picked up his sword and went towards the cottage. He entered through the hole in the wall the other had made, and knelled besides Fouquet´s prone body. It was not likely, but he searched for a pulse. There was. It was faint, but there was a pulse.
Ryan grabbed her shoulders, and shook her. She mumbled something unintelligible under her breath, but she didn´t wake up. Fine. He stood up, and kicked her in the ribs. She doubled over, coughing, and her eyes shot open. She glared up at him.
"What was that for, asshole?" She mumbled, hoarsely, her eyes wet. "Wait... what happened?"
"That man attacked, knocked you down and tried to kill me. I killed him." Ryan said. It may have be nothing but his imagination, but he could have sworn she had grimaced. A thief who was not comfortable with killing? Ridiculous. "Now, let´s go."
Fouquet slowly nodded, and stood up. She stared at him intently, for a few moments.
"You look... well, even worse."
"Because he managed to kill me once. Do you have more questions or can we kept going?"
"Yeah, yeah." She said, and picked up the case of the staff. "You are a real drag, you know?"
Before parting, she took off the cloak and gave it to him. He grabbed it, and put it on without question. Now that he got his first got look at her, he realized she was a rather fair lady. Not on the looks department, but how she handled herself. That kind of grace didn´t come easily. It made him idly wonder what happened for her to turn to robbing, even though there were not that many possibilities. Either she had be striped off her title because of a crime or her family had be erased.
Ryan watched, at first befuddled, as she let her hair down, rubbed her face with something that colored her cheeks, and then went behind another door, saying she was going to change. Maybe so he didn´t assume she wanted to have the staff for herself. Even so, he approached the door and listened for his cue. There was the rustle of clothing, and the stirring of the wind, but nothing more. Not the sound of glass shattering, the window opening or just complete silence, which could mean she was levitating away. When he heard footsteps coming towards the door, he stepped back silently and acted like he hadn´t done anything. She told him she had used this place before as a hideout, and showed him that she had horse there. Just one. Saved him time, at least. Then, they mouthed, and she rode towards the port.
The ride went on for an hour or so. When they stopped, Fouquet sold the horse, and then they got into the arbor. She paid for the ride. This time, he closed himself in a free room to minimize the chances of his face being discovered by one of the sailors prancing around the ship. The sail took longer that before, thought not much. He had already memorized the way to the Headquarters, but he let Fouquet guide him anyway. They got inside, and went to Cromwell throne room. He was sitting there, with Sheffield by his side. Fouquet took a step forward, and put the case of the staff in front of Cromwell.
"Well done, you two." Cromwell said, then motioned something to Sheffield, and she threw a bag filled with money to Fouquet. She grabbed it in the air without saying a word. He gave her the hood back, not needing any prompting, and she went away. When he turned around towards them, he found Cromwell looking pensively at him. "What happened? You died, obviously, but how exactly?"
"I fell out of her golem because I was attacked, and broke my neck. Then, a Pyromancer..."
"Pyromancer? Is that the equivalent of a fire mage in your land?"
"Yes." Ryan said. "Anyway, a fire mage whose name I don´t know managed to find us, knocked out Fouquet and then managed to kill me by... I don´t know exactly how he did it, but he cut off my air and I chocked in an instant."
Sheffield stepped away for Cromwell, descended the stairs, opened the case of the staff and grabbed it. For a moment, she seemed utterly taken a back, almost terrified, then her face returned to her normal expression and she twirled it idly in her hands.
"Such a strange little thing, Master. The runes didn`t react." She said. Ryan filled that away for future reference. "Maybe its magic is somehow locked, or this Staff Of Destruction is nothing but a hoax and we have be wasting our time."
"Uh." Cromwell said. "Maybe. Take that thing to be examined, please."
"Yes, master." Sheffield said, and went out the room.
"Ah, Undead, one last thing." Cromwell said. "In two days, Wardes will pave the way to our conquest of Albion, so prepare yourself."
Ryan nodded, and went to his room. He locked the door behind him, made himself comfortable on the bed, and tried to sleep.
Artorias was strong, much stronger that him. Even though he was nothing more that a beast swallowed by the dark, his skills were far above his own, and he was fast, too fast, faster that anybody he had ever fought before. The force of his blows send his teeth rattling, and more that once he had nearly let go of his sword. This knight had already killed him, so many times and with ridiculous ease. If things kept on like this, he was going to go Hollow. He had to... ah, there. He spotted a blind spot in his guard, and stabbed his chest. His sword went through Artorias already cracked armor, and stabbed him in the heart. When he brought his sword back, Artorias fell to the ground. He was dying. He looked up at him, and he saw mild surprise that his eyes were shining brightly.
"Ah, Sif." Artorias said, extending a hand towards him. He grasped that weak, trembling hand, only thinking that it was so hard to believe that this was the hand on the one that had killed him so many times. "There you are."
His body went limp, and he left his hand fell back to the ground. He looked down at his corpse. At least, he would now sleep in peace. Maybe even reunite with his companion, Sif, the great gray wolf. Cold comfort, but better that no comfort at all. He walked up the room, sword held high and advance towards his goal, towards Manus, the King Of The Abyss. No matter what, he wouldn´t die here. He had still not experience what living was really like, and this decayed, faded world depend on him lighting the flame. He would do it.
He was the only one that could do it.
Ryan opened his eyes, feeling groggy and rather uncomfortable. It had be a long time since had sleep. In Lordran, sleeping was as much of a luxury as being alive. He briefly though about what to now, but the next mission was still a day away, so he doubted Cromwell would send him on a mission today. Besides, if he needed him, he could send one of his soldiers to his room. So, he didn´t sit up, just kept on staring at the ceiling, lost in his thoughts.
The bed was soft and rather fluffy, unlike the cold ground where he had rested for naught but a few moments after finding each bonfire. Ryan could really get used to this. Better to think about that than about this world, who had no Undead to worry about, yet peace was still an illusion. His thoughts drifted back to Solaire. He had not tried to calm Solaire down in anyway, just answered his assault with violence of his own and a put him down like one would put down a rabbit down. Something that had to be done, and no more. He had felt regret when looking into his dying face, and his last words
(Its dark, so dark...)
had made him break down, but the gist of it was that he had not hesitated, not even for a second, and he had considered Solaire his friend. Was this true human nature, then? It certainty seemed like it was. These humans were not born out of the dark, yet they were all like that. Killed other humans out of hatred, and other petty reasons. They didn´t understand. They didn´t understand what was scurrying around the ruins of a fallen kingdom like a rat, under attack by monsters, dying time after time, always so painfully close to going Hollow and losing everything.
No, they didn´t understand.
They couldn´t never understand.
The day passed quickly, almost without him noticing. Ryan sleep again during the night, but this time he didn´t dream anything. Or at least, he didn´t remember dreaming. He got out when the first rays of sunlight entered through the window, and went to Cromwell´s throne room. There was just him, sitting on the throne and Sheffield on his side, like always. As soon as he entered, Cromwell began the briefing. He was addressing the group, so Ryan assumed he was using some sort of spell so his voice would reach all of the headquarters. After finishing his speech, Cromwell told him were to go, and he did. Together with the other soldiers of Reconquista he waited for the signal Wardes was supposed to sent, him sharing a horse with a random soldier, touching the pommel of his sword.
There. A lance of air streaked across the night sky and exploded. Ryan saw their ships advance towards the palace, just as the group leader gave the order to move. It was a short run. Reconquista´s headquarters were just a few meters away for the palace. The place was utterly silent. They didn´t even suspect something had gone real wrong. They moved as silently as possible for such a large and well armored ground, and quickly descended upon the unsuspecting soldiers of the royal family all holed up in the dining room. He contentiously killed the soldiers that came near him, dodged a few spells and went towards the king. Him, whatever was his name, had a few soldiers right in front of him. Some of the soldiers wildly fighting against Reconquista took notice of what he was doing, and tried to make their way towards him. Didn´t matter.
Two rushed him, wielding sharps wands-much like Wardes one. He kicked one of them aside, and touched the others one face with one hand burning him to a crisp in an instant. The ones who had stayed behind, though they looked horrified, didn´ lose their courage. He sidestepped the first spell almost casually, and cut the second one with his sword. The third spell, an almost solid looking blast of fire, hit him in the chest, knocking him back a few steps. Shit, that was dangerous. Damn it.
"What is this?!" Somebody screamed. Then, a scream of pure terror, distinctively of the same person. It was a strange. Unless one of the Albions´s soldiers had be sleeping and just waked up, something new had happened to surprise then. He briefly though about it, but decided that he didn´t have the time to waste. The king was not dead yet.
Ryan avoided a lance of air send by the king himself, without stopping his run. He got close enough and unleashed the Force Miracle, knocking the three remaining soldiers and the king down to the ground. He approached the king knocked down body, and crushed his throat with his boot, killing him instantly. He quickly slit the throat of the soldiers who were just getting up, and briefly looked back.
What he saw made his heart speed painfully in his chest. The corpses stretched all across the dinning hall were sitting up, looking at themselves with horror. And, blazing in their necks, was the darksign. No. No. It couldn´t be happening. How was this possible? This was a whole different world, he was supposed to have left such things behind.
"'Put them down! Put those abominations down!" No matter how impossible it should be, it was real. The darksign was spreading. He felt something brush his ankle, then grasp it and looked down. One of the soldiers who had be protecting the king was there, moaning weakly while crawling on the ground, his hand without barely any strength. His teeth gridded together.
"Why?" The soldier spat out. "What... what did you bastards do to us?"
Ryan raised his other left, and drove him back down on the soldier´s head, squashing it down. The hand holding it went limp, and he took a few steps back. Bad. This was really bad. If is enemies had to be killed a few times to finally put them down for now on, then his primary weakness just got even worse. Not to mention what the spreading of the darksign could do this world. Is dream of someday living peacefully was impossible now. Ah, anyway. First of all...
"Don´t worry!" Ryan screamed, even though this would also lift the morality of the enemy. "They can die and will die for real! Just kept on killing them!"
He had to find Wardes, and explain things to him. This was no longer a simple assault mission. If the darksign was spreading across Halkagenia, and it was, then things like retaking the Holy Land didn´t matter anymore. They should turn Reconquista´s resources into trying to survive. But how to find him? He knew he was in the chambers of the prince, but he didn´t know where that was. Shit. He should have asked, he should have know that...
Ryan stopped in his tracks, all his panic forgotten. For a moment, he though it was just his imagination but no, the reality of it couldn´t be denied. Beyond the battle, there was a strange tune playing, rising to a melodious note and then back down, wavering. It was beautiful, really beautiful. He walked towards the door, over the corpses, over the still alive soldiers reached it and opened it, only dimly aware that he had stopped hearing anything but that song, even his own heartbeat. Had he stopped hearing it or had his heartbeat stopped? Whatever. It didn´t matter.
He loss his balance, and felt against the wall. Coughing, he straightened and continued walking, one hand on the walk to support himself, following that beautiful melody. He could see something, things, out of the corner of his eye. It would have be anything. A trick of the light, an illusion... or things as human as himself, walking beyond their last breaths, coming to take his life. Yes, all of them came for his life, armed with swords and lances and spikes, some not even human, ancient beasts who should have died long ago slithering thorough the corridors after him. Perhaps just for his blood, but surely, surely, after vengeance. He would heard their footsteps, approaching, their eager paths.
And The Red Dead held sway over them all, he incoherently thought, and his head spun violently. His back hit the wall and he slumped down. That though followed him as he spiraled down, into the darkness.