Author's Notes Part 1:

So, it has come to chapter 7. I have to say, thank you readers for the reviews. They encourage me into writing the next chapters for this story. I'm planning on finishing this tale, so to the readers that do worry, I assure you no matter how long the gaps may be between updates, I will complete this. Also, I'd prefer for my readers to have an account in this site so I can properly reply to them, but since some do not, I'll just reply to them here.

Anonymous Viewer -Z- : My reply is a chapter late, but nonetheless, I'm glad you enjoyed the extra scene. I will be putting extra scenes in after every trilogy/cluster of chapters/scenes, so I'm hoping you'll look forward to more narrative-type story telling from different characters' points of views. That goes for everybody. Also, Miria in the manga/anime might not be as skillful as a healer, but in my story I portray her as otherwise. In later chapters, I'll expand their pasts little by little, explaining how their skills improved.

shane47: I do hope this chapter satisfies you as I kept you in suspense, and I'm always glad to hear feedback from optimistic readers.

Anyway, for those who wonder, I should have stated this earlier but here it is. This fanfiction is a romance between Clare and Teresa. The two might have had a more mother-daughter relationship in some people's eyes, but in 'Claymore', relations from one person to another blur into vagueness. Take for example Raki. His relationship with Clare had the potential to be of a brother-sister one, but that image may have been broken from the kiss they shared. I believe Clare and Teresa could have been lovers if circumstances differed, no matter how star-crossed they could be. I plan to take their relationship on a different course, opening the could-have-been's and should-have-been's that the story line ignored, and expand their feelings and reactions towards one another now that Clare was old enough to comprehend physical attraction and maybe even love. The same goes to Teresa.

Another thing, Miria and Galatea have a string wrapped around them in this fanfic. The two live lives knowing only battle and blood, so it'll take them time as well to realize there's something else beyond their numerous exploitations of each other's flesh. *hint* *hint* Although Miria is the softer one between the two of them, she herself is less mentally vulnerable than Galatea, in the terms of them playing mind games with each other. There is also a romance blossoming between the two of them, and I'm putting in depth and substance in their relationship to the best of my abilities. For now, Galatea is loyal to Miria in a way that a body guard is to the person that hired them. Their situation as rebel warriors in a battle against numerous foes forces them to numb aside their feelings, or at least temporarily suppress them, but you readers already know they're not made of stone.

One last thing. Helen and Deneve. Their progression compared to the aforementioned characters above are slower, but I assure you they are not going to be ignored. I find the two as charismatic companions for Clare and the rest, and I intend to keep them. The thought of the two as lovers has a nice ring, and I'm a hundred percent positive they'll find each other within the chaos that is 'Claymore'. They will also have a depth into them as I delve deeper into their mental psyche's, or at least attempt to.

Anyway, the long rant has ended. As always, I'm grateful for you viewers for sticking this long, and hopefully longer. Enjoy.


Scene 2: Reborn Part 2

"What're you doing, Clare?" Galatea panted while looking at Teresa then back at the woman across her.

The warrior formerly known as number forty seven laid Teresa down on an area of the floor where blood has not tainted it. It only took a second as she reached inside the unconscious blonde's chest gash and grabbed the extra mass of muscle in her hands. Clare indifferently casted aside the non-beating heart, causing her conscious comrades to look at her quizzically. The bloody viscera made a squishing sound as it hit the ground, and the three let out relieved, 'I'm glad I'm not dead' sighs. Teresa's wound healed within a matter of seconds, and Clare clothed the taller woman her scruffy cloak.

"I didn't plan to use such ghastly means of strategy, but grabbing somebody else's heart for my big talk was the only thing I could think of. I can't believe that monster actually fell for it." Clare plopped down exhaustedly besides Teresa and her two comrades, and her eyes double took at the sight of Miria, Deneve and Helen's bloody bodies split in half.

Dgiarze's face twisted as he forced himself to look at his fallen companion's headless corpse. "Your plan was what saved us. I don't really care at the moment about how grotesque it may be," He slicked his hair back. "but where did you get that extra heart?"

A stoic expression took over Clare's face; she respected the dead, but she had to survive by any means necessary. "There's a graveyard in the back with a sea of claymores and the dead. Their flesh is still fresh, and I stole the nearest soldier's organ and planted it in Teresa in case I have to resort in a performance of tearing her heart off her chest."

Galatea moved the three's halved bodies closer together. "A genius move, but could have been foolish within the next seconds had the creature prolonged her stay." She used their cloaks as pillows, gently placing the cloths under the dismembered bodies' heads. "I commend your quick thinking, no matter how risky the outcomes were."

The laboratory, or lack thereof, was greatly illuminated by the desert sun that penetrated the massive gaping hole that was formerly the ceiling. Clare's mouth was agape, and her eyes stared at the former number three in surprise. Galatea sat calmly, her legs folded underneath her, and waited as Miria's abdominal area slowly connected to her lower half. Deneve gradually reformed next to the phantom, followed by Helen. A twitch disturbed Helen's face as her muscles and organs united, but her unconscious form wasn't disturbed. The three slowly regenerated in peace, and Galatea's face was of disgust as she acknowledged the blood that coated her and her friends, the blood that was in a form of puddles on the floor, and the blood that corrupted Miria's serene face. She gently wiped her redness off Miria's cheeks and mouth with her thumb. "I managed to redirect that creature's youki before it sliced up anything vital of theirs. Their large intestines will heal, and everything else shouldn't be a problem for them. They've only been separated with their lower halves for minutes, so their organs haven't failed yet. Also, they're experienced enough to know when to suppress their youki, and it's very convincing to believe they were actually dead."

Dgiarze was as amazed as Clare. "Incredible. It's as if you all have experience in fighting something of tremendous powers before. I, on the other hand, have not even encountered an awakened being." He stood up with the strength he could muster, and picked up El'liem's lifeless head and body. The corpse limply dangled in his arms, and Dgiarze walked into the dark. "Give me time to say my prayers for my fallen friend. At least in death he will not feel the loneliness of being one of the last of his kind, and his body will be amongst our resting brothers and sisters." The back of his body slowly vanished into the shadows of the swallowing hallway, leaving Clare and Galatea to tend to their wounded.

A quietness enveloped the air, and Galatea felt eyes on her.

"What is Miria to you?"

Galatea's brows tensed as she looked down at the woman of their topic.

"When we raced across the desert, her aura turned red as she took a glance at you." The short haired woman swayed her hands quickly, ridding the blood that wetted her claws. "And when that monster hacked her, you've almost awakened. You never lose your lid, Galatea. Is Miria your Achilles' heel?"

The tall woman said nothing. Galatea was the epitome of aloofness, and even her lack of outward emotions surpassed Clare's. Her sarcastic smile from time to time would creep into the former number three's face, but Clare saw through the emptiness, the absence of authenticity in the curl of Galatea's lips.

"You're not obliged to answer. I'm just concerned towards yours and Miria's well being, as well as Helen and Deneve's." The two gave each other zero eye contact. The silence lingered, but was not awkward. Both warriors' personalities were different yet at the same time their hard-headedness and talents to put a veil atop their feelings earned them an outlandish comment from Helen: 'You two should just marry and outdo each other 'till one of you dies. God, can you guys be any more macho, it's so stupidly annoying!" The two warrior women were far from masculine, yet their quietly stubborn and fiery personalities could intimidate even the most testosterone-laden men. Clare wasn't as offensively blunt with her words, or better yet, threats as Galatea was, and their former ranks from their soldier days proved to be their dividing line. The former forty seven had the intelligence, the strength, the determination, the bravery, and even the confidence. What Clare lacked was the overbearing pride that Galatea carried so effortlessly, as if every inch of her body radiated a fierceness that everybody was aware of, except for herself. The tall woman was a contradiction of herself. She was humble enough not to brag a word; it was in her actions that screamed dominance. The short haired woman acknowledged her companion's behaviors, but was undeterred by it. Clare was a woman of few words, and she understood actions more than any verbal communication she ever received. Back in their older days, Clare was underestimated, mocked even, by Galatea but she proved the god eye wrong not once but twice. Galatea eventually accepted the ex-forty seven as her equal, and Clare couldn't care less if she had or hadn't. The shorter woman carried herself with dignity despite the tides of condescendence that flowed against her.

"Miria is my leader, much like yours, and I can't accept her to die a dishonorable death." Galatea's eyes were closed.

"Understood." Clare finally returned her eyes at her companion. "Teresa's mental condition is unknown, and it's unpredictable how she'll react once she wakes up. She might or might not recognize me, and that could be a problem."

Galatea exchanged a glance. "What is your plan? Her youki is nauseatingly powerful, and I can feel her breaking through her coma little by little."

Clare's silver eyes were sharp. Her decision was made, and knowing her for years, Galatea didn't even bother trying to change the stubborn woman's mind once it was made up. "I will leave you to go back to the inn at Sh'iadonlem to take care of our comrades while I take Teresa far from civilization, even farther than this desert. I can't risk any more lives. If she's not mentally stable I'll behead her while she's still weak." A look of longing swam in her eyes.

The two warriors easily understood each other, and Galatea respected her companion's wishes. "So be it. I understand you have personal ties to her. If we don't hear from you within a week's notice, expect a search party in your name." She looked at Clare with dead seriousness. "One week. The moment your light flickers, we will come rushing in a heartbeat."

"Don't worry. I'll come back with or without Teresa."

Dgiarze finally reached the grave site. He sank El'liem's gigantic sword to the ground, and dug a life sized hole before the standing blade. His grunts echoed throughout the massive corridor with the darkness and dead surrounding him. He gently laid El'liem in the open soil, and clumps of dirt landed on El'liem's sleeping face and body one by one. The ground eventually ate him, and Dgiarze's shoulders shuddered. His effort to stifle his tears was futile, and Dgiarze went into slight hyperventilation. Tears ran down his dirty cheeks as he realized he was the last man of his kind. His companion of many decades was dishonorably executed, and Dgiarze was abandoned to walk a world where madness ruled.

He grabbed his blade and put it against his neck. His fists trembled as he held onto the sword handle, and slick blood rolled down to his collarbone. He was before a mass of slumbering bodies, and he stood frozen for a moment. He clenched his teeth in the tightest grip, and eventually swayed the giant sword away from him. A fresh wave of tears slid from his skin as his teeth gnashed involuntarily. He then dropped his blade before kneeling on his friend's grave. Dgiarze cussed to the gods. His voice was a whisper, and his breathing shallow. "I will join you sooner or later, but not know. I need to find Isley. He's alive somewhere, and they might still know his whereabouts." He stood whilst wiping his tears. "I'll live for the two of us, for all of us. Rest with our fellow brothers, and tell them my greetings." Dgiarze picked up his weapon and left the site.


"Ah, there you are."

Dgiarze's weary eyes met Galatea's. The woman finally stood, and so did Clare.

"Yes, I paid my respects."

Galatea faced the taller man. "Once my comrades fully regenerate, we will leave this place. What will you do?" Her voice had that deep resonance.

"I will take down Isley once and for all, and I plan to tag alongside your group." Dgiarze had the look to kill, and his silver eyes radiated ferocity.

"Your talents for stealing information are quite a liability on our part," Galatea crossed her arms. "but also a benefit. I'm assuming you're intending to stick around retrieving our memories until you find him. Based on our knowledge, you should already know by now that he's an Abyssal One." She saw no point in sparing the man sorrow which he already felt.

"Yes, I saw through Miria's eyes. I plan to take his head for disgracing my kin, and to end his misery in existing as a monster." His glare clashed with Galatea's.

"I have no say in this. We shall wait until Miria awakens. She will decide if you stay or not. In the meantime, you can come with us to Sh'iadonlem. Clare will separate from us for a while, but we fight if she needs backup."

Dgiarze directed his gaze at Clare. "I see. We shall await your return."


The sun was quickly withdrawing towards the earth. Rozarsh desert widened for miles, and the sands glowed a yellow tinge as the rays of light touched them. A chain of footsteps were visible on the desert grounds, and Clare's silhouette sprinted endlessly with Teresa in her arms. The comatose warrior slumbered peacefully in the midst of Clare's inner turmoil. The woman she shared valuable moments with; the person who took her in when she was a lost soul was unforgivably taken away from her, only to be thrown back at her unexpectedly. What was she to do? What could she do? She was already accustomed to the tragic lifestyle that is being a half-youma and half-human, and the chance that Teresa would be stripped from her grasp a second time was gut-wrenchingly heartrending. The former number one's body twitched and Clare felt a massive wave of youki ripple. She sped as fast as she could towards the horizon, with Teresa plaguing her thoughts and reality.

Hours passed, and Clare stopped her stride. She placed her blade into the ground and sat across Teresa. They rested against trees in the brink of a jungle, with the sea visibly shining the crescent moon near them. She rested in a desolate part of Vidal, where humans have forgotten such a place existed since Rozarsh desert discouraged any travelers to go farther. Her thoughts were cluttered of Teresa and of her friends miles away as her lids drooped heavily against her will. Her sight of Teresa slowly faded, and the day's weariness took over her body.

"Priscilla!"

A gasp escaped Clare's body as the guttural yell rang in her ears. The chokehold on her neck was like a vice grip, and her airways were closed, leaving her to asphyxiate. The attacking hand only tightened its powerful grasp, and the short haired woman could only attempt to weakly pry the clutch with her fingers. Clare winced in helplessness as Teresa's golden eyes met her silver ones. The taller woman huffed in confusion while beads of sweat formed on her forehead. Teresa looked around her environment in a hurried fashion, and she quickly let go of her victim.

"Where is Priscilla?" Her mighty roar broke the silence of the jungle. The former number one stood with her fangs bared whilst instinctively reaching for her back to grab a blade that wasn't there. Her breathing was fast, and Clare sat in momentary silence as Teresa dashed around the wide forest, looking for the one-horned monster that was thousands of miles away from them. The shorter woman stood after catching her breath, but Teresa was already out of sight. Teresa chased a ghost in a blind rage, breaking trees and destroying shadows that could have been the creature. She went on until she heard a voice call her name out, snapping her out of her berserk mode. "Clare..." Her voice trembled as she remembered she had to protect the child from Priscilla's newly awakening form. The darkness only emphasized Clare's youki, and Teresa rushed back to the shorter woman with the desperation to protect her. She ran and ran towards the girl until they met halfway, and their eyes met with longing, fear, confusion, happiness, and every other spectrum of emotion their minds could seize. The two stood face to face under the moon, and they froze as they studied each other, afraid that if they take a step forward they would wake up from the mind-boggling spectacle.

Clare couldn't move; it had been years since she laid her eyes on her beautiful face. Instead, she tore her gaze away from Teresa's, a foreign instinct of shyness slowly corrupting her. Her voice minimized to a whisper as Teresa's eyes invaded every inch of her body and soul. "Teresa, I-"

The taller woman was confused as to how her companion grew in size in such a short amount of time. Teresa was just holding the girl's hand as they walked away sparing Priscilla's life then beheading the naïve soldier, and here she was in front of Clare a moment later. Clare blossomed into a woman, much to Teresa's bewilderment, and Teresa quickly stripped her gaze as she realized she stared for too long.

"Teresa… You were gone for so long. So many things have happened." The shorter woman looked down, memories of her and Teresa in better times quickly rushed into her, and blood slowly overwhelmed her cheeks against her will. A pair of hands grabbed Clare's face, and the taller woman tilted Clare's head in different angles to confirm she was real.

"What have you become?"

Teresa's brows furrowed in despair. "Why did you become a monster like me?" Her face inched in closer to Clare's as she angrily spat the words out. "I swore to myself I would give you a better life than this! Why-"

A pair of arms wrapped around Teresa's neck, and the taller woman was yanked closer onto Clare. Her face landed onto the shorter woman's bosom in an effort to hush the talkative warrior. Clare savored her body against Teresa's, and the two awkwardly attempted to gain balance as Teresa suffocated against Clare's breasts. The shorter woman embraced Teresa tightly despite the laws of gravity working their way on their tangled limbs, and the two thudded hard against a tree in a clumsy manner. Clare still held on to her embrace, leaving Teresa to ungracefully bend forward whilst kneeling with her face still sunken into the other woman. She felt Clare's heart beat faster, and she gasped for air as she whipped her head back. She sensed Clare's aura intensify, and their suppressed emotions clashed onto the surface as Teresa regained her balance and hovered on the shorter woman with her fists placed on the tree. Teresa glared down at Clare, and the two breathed loudly as their lips were a centimeter away from meeting. A snarl escaped her breath as the former number one moved her face away to the side. Clare twirled harshly to her surprise, before being roughly shoved to the ground as Teresa climbed on top of her, her silver eyes boring into Clare's very core.

"Why!" Teresa anxiously pounded her fists on the ground next to Clare's face.

Clare looked straight up, and a sad smile enveloped her lips as tears betrayed her yet again. She cupped the distressed woman's face gently as curtains of wavy, blonde hair flowed down on her. The shorter woman laid on the soil between Teresa's knees and forearms, and she put up no fight.

"I did it for you."

The words stabbed Teresa in the chest, and her turmoil erupted to violence as she sank her teeth on Clare's neck. The woman underneath her gasped in surprise, digging her claws in Teresa's sides as the long haired woman sloppily lapped large volumes of blood that seeped from her delicate flesh. Clare writhed under her once protector and Teresa's body shook once she got a taste of Clare's liquid life force.

"My blood courses through your veins." The woman's face contorted in her discovery. She looked down at the monster beneath her, and Clare hushed her once more. Clare tasted the copper in her blood as she pulled Teresa's face lower, connecting their lips together with no remorse. The sorrow Clare held on to for decades met with Teresa's unsettling fears as the two accepted the moment before separating their intimate contact.

Teresa broke their kiss apart as blood smeared their lower faces. Her head found itself on the nook of Clare's neck, and the woman underneath her wrapped an arm around Teresa's torso while the other held the back of her head gently. Clare almost forgot the deepness of Teresa's voice, and the sound gently invaded her ears once again. "You're just a girl. I can't."

The two stayed still, and Clare stared at the silver moon that accompanied them. "I'm not a child anymore, Teresa. I'm a woman now. I have been for decades after you left me on this earth."


"God damn it!"

Helen screeched as she sat up from her bed. A pain swam inside her head, causing her to pull on her hair. Deneve laid alongside her, while Miria sat on a chair across them. "What just happened?"

Rays of light shone through the inn window. Miria had her arms and legs crossed as she faced the loud warrior. "Keep your voice down. Deneve's still resting."

The short haired woman pivoted her head towards her bed-mate, and sighed in relief as memories of yesterday's events resurfaced. "That was too close for comfort. We really owe our hides to Galatea... and Dgiarze." A certain recollection from the day before suddenly emerged, and Helen angrily pounded a sleeping Deneve on her sides, leaving Miria's mouth to form an 'o'. "You careless, inconsiderate son of a bitch!"

"Helen! What-" Miria was left astounded on her chair, standing up simply to freeze halfway.

Deneve's eyes fluttered open, only for a fist to greet her on her temple. Miria sighed in defeat, choosing to sit back down quietly as the two rumbled on the bed.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" The newly awakened woman was finally able to block the bombarding fists towards her face, and she gripped Helen's wrists as she put her attacker into a lock. Deneve pushed Helen's head down the bed, but regrettably so. The crippled warrior yelled muffled curses at Deneve's way, only to be coldly ignored by the boyish looking woman. Deneve grappled above a squirming Helen in annoyance. "How do you acquire so much energy all the time?" Her voice was calm with a dash of irritation. "I must know your secret."

"I feel pity for you sometimes, Deneve. Can't you put a leash on your dog, maybe even teach her how to behave?

The two stopped their rough housing as all eyes were on Galatea, who entered their room with a bag of fruits in her hand.

Deneve scooted off Helen whilst placing her feet on the floor as she sat on the bed. "Only if Miria can put one on you."

Helen and Miria face palmed as the two radiated negative auras while their gazes connected.

"Enough." Miria walked between them, facing Galatea. Her glare pierced through the taller woman, and that was enough to silence her. "We thank you for saving our lives back there, but that doesn't give you the right to ridicule our comrades."

Galatea broke away. She threw oddly shaped fruits towards Helen and Deneve after handing one to Miria. "Eat up and rest. Regeneration of that level takes a toll on the body, and you lot aren't going anywhere for a week."

"Why a week?" Helen attempted to stand, only for her legs to give in. Deneve caught the woman before she lunged her face to meet the floor.

"That's why." Galatea sat against the wall with her arms crossed. "We wait for you three to recover, and for Clare to come back with or without Teresa. Dgiarze is out picking more suitable clothes at the moment, and we can't do anything for now but to take a break."

"What do we do afterwards, Miria?" Helen took a big bite of her fruit. She flinched in pain as she tried repositioning herself to sit next to Deneve. The boyish-haired warrior looked at Helen in concern, only to be mercilessly brushed off by the feisty blonde.

"We go back to our home country. Dgiarze saw with that white demon's eyes that they had a back up refuge in our homelands, in case something backfired on them in here. I'm not surprised that the Organization's headquarters are scattered around the world, and my best bet is that the creature is heading towards Mucha right now as we speak. The southern region is the nearest from here, and that is our next destination."

Deneve swallowed a chunk of her fruit, a hint of sarcasm dripping in her tone. "Time to finally reunite with the friendly soldiers. It's been years."


"Teresa, you shouldn't overexert yourself."

The sea's waves crashed loudly against giant boulders that let themselves be on the shores. The forest's trees bore no fruits, and Clare rushed to assist Teresa. The waters wetted their feet as the two stood side by side against the sunrise.

"I will get some fish for you. I can see you're still recovering from whatever trauma you've suffered under their wicked hands." Clare undressed, exposing every square of her skin before diving into the clear blueness that was the ocean. She swam underwater until the sandy floor wasn't visible, and she spotted a large fish swimming away from her. She paddled her legs swiftly in a chase after the shark that finally noticed her. The giant aquatic animal met Clare halfway, and Teresa walked a step backward as the propelled shark floated in the air before crashing in front of the tall blonde's feet.

"Thank you, girl, even though I don't need to eat this much. You know that."

Clare cracked a light hearted smile towards her companion. Old habits die hard, and history repeated itself as the younger warrior's face glowed at the sight of Teresa. The taller blonde didn't find Clare's behavior as out of the ordinary, since in their older days the young girl's face was plastered with smiles most of the time when she looked at Teresa. "It was the closest animal I could find, and the most convenient. I don't know how many days or years you involuntarily neglected eating, so I found the fish as a suitable contender." Her voice was higher-pitched than usual, but was not in an overtly feminine tone.

Clare's suspicions of Teresa being unaware of her death, revival and imprisonment only strengthened, but Teresa was far from a fool, and she accepted the fact that years slipped by much to her confusion. She questioned everything that happened within the last twelve or so hours, but found her state of affairs with the fully developed Clare a pleasant and peaceful one. The wavy-haired blonde smiled a genuine smile as the naked body stood before her. Teresa casted aside her lingering thoughts and worries, and enjoyed the moment she's always wanted: a peaceful outing with the one person in the world that breathed life into her cold, savage heart.

Their moment of serenity was quickly destroyed as Teresa started to violently convulse. Her whole body shook, and her breathing raced as she held her onto her temples. A pang of indescribable pain sliced through Teresa's head as hundreds of picture like images appeared as fast as they disappeared. Clare was halfway into putting on her garments before Teresa went into a post traumatic trance. Something triggered a shard of a memory of her being brutally tortured, and the shorter woman's eyes widened at the sight of Teresa's golden eyes staring at her with the look of bloodlust. In that very moment, she wasn't Clare, but of a black figure that unforgivably destroyed Teresa and Andromeda every single day in an attempt to break down their humanity and senses of self away. Veins pulsed under Teresa's face while her fangs elongated.

Clare slowly backed away from Teresa with her chest still unclothed. "It's me, Teresa. It's Clare. Calm down."

The taller woman's youki overpowered Clare's in great quantities, and Teresa slowly walked closer towards her companion. Clare exhaustedly fell on her knees from the overwhelming pressure of Teresa's polluting youki, and the towering woman balled a fist in Clare's hair, causing the kneeling woman to flinch.

"Tell no more lies, you lowlife scum. You've killed Andromeda and me so many times, now it's my turn to give back the favor."