Sometimes if Blythe listened carefully she could hear the Mobians; faint whispers in the walls of her "home;" 170 by 31 by 300 meters underground. Little to no contact with Talaporians, and Mobians were spoken word. She couldn't even see outside.
But one day she'd be free. She just had to be. She'd be able to go out of the Box and see the Mobians for herself. Did they look like Talaporians? Did they even know about Talaporians, or Thaumaturgy or Necrosis?
YAHOOOOOO!
Blythe's ears perked up at the strange exclamation. It had a connection to her, so it couldn't be a Mobian… Her head tilted as she tried to figure out if it was a Death Angel or a Thaumaturge… wait…
Both? Was he- was he a Cherub, like-
No, not really. He was something lower, but close, maybe even just as powerful. Curious.
Maybe it was time, after all...
"Whoooooo-hooo!" Silver exclaimed as Broom blasted through the sky. His whole body felt hollow, weightless. He felt like a bird with a dog's tongue out, not like his mouth would dry out in the clouds.
Though his ears were flattened and popped as he cut through the air and his heart throbbed against his chest, it seemed profoundly quiet for Silver in the air. And he still felt whole, too; no definite Reaper or Witch thoughts: WOO! I'm Flying! I'm FLYIIIINNG!
"Hahahahahah!" he laughed, clutching Broom's handles tight as he attempted a loop- his feet eased off the foot rests at the top and he didn't let them return. The stars twinkled and cheered silently while the half-moon was dimming; the clouds a blue gray sea...
I could get used to this... he thought. Up here, in the clouds... No one but me. He took in the thin air that never felt better in his body before.
Maybe... I could- stay up here, I think-
His heart shriveled and he clutched his chest, Broom starting to dip. He tensed up and started to cringe. It was like a... a dull thorn in his heart. Easy! Steady Broom down... Oof!
Broom sputtered a little and he began to panic. His one handed grip became iron, but it started to shake. He began to panic a bit-
Up, Broom, up!
The bike was shaking all over, and they were soon in a nose dive towards the earth-
Ooof! Why- can't I control...-!
A blast of air slapped him in the face as Broom was forced out of her dive- like a tidal wave almost. The pain had started to subside and he regained a two handed grip on his Broom. He sighed with relief.
He began to notice the dark shape travelling underneath the clouds which had brought the sudden wind; it much bigger than him- with a wingspan. An airplane? Not a passenger airplane, probably a scenic tour plane- Wait, then what was it doing flying at night?
Silver held his forehead in his head and shook the ideas out of his head. Sleepy. Better land this thing... he began his descent just in time to miss the distant bellow of the "airplane."
Grrrrroooooooooaaaaahh...
The telephone rang on and on; an old fashioned, spin-dial black telephone, but it had no cord to connect it to telephone lines. Nevertheless it rang about eight times before the slender hand of Selene Hesperis picked up the handle.
"Anything?" his voice on the other end asked.
"I told you before," she sighed, "nothing new. It's not like I'm doing anything else in here."
"What's the basics, then?"
"Migraines caused from hemisphere tearing...a handful of varying side effects, fluctuations in temperature, increased blood pressure, restlessness, heightened physical strength, lowered stamina... with the grand finale being death upon Opening."
"What about the non-Mobian aspects of it?"
A wry smile appeared on the Witch Doctor's lips. "Power increases."
"Ah."
"Yeah, just like the rest of us. Exponential increases leading up to the Opening, prepping for the big surge."
"So why do they die?"
"Because they Split," Selene said, running a hand through her cascading black hair. "A Splitter has both Reaper and Witch proteins- in his blood, his skin, everything. They can be separated, and that's how they're able to Split into another person; because they can replicate them with their energy."
"Like coral reefs."
"And because they keep Splitting left and right, their separate bodies aren't prepared enough for the surge- one that's exponentially bigger than ours."
"Like a lightning strike," he mumbled to her. "So you're saying, maybe, if he stopped Splitting-"
"Sorry, dear. But that's impossible. If the Magic and Necrosis are dormant for too long, it'd be exactly like a lightning strike."
"You're telling me he's screwed either way?" he demanded. "That all we've done for him- saving his life- was all just to see him get blown apart?"
"Well... as it stands now," Selene said, crossing her legs, "you're a Grim Reaper who's just gotten interested in Splitters because of him. You've got no experience with the brain, except how to twist it around."
"Humph."
"And I'm a Witch who after being trapped and tortured in an asylum I used to practice in finally got possessed by a spirit with a grudge against me... that's right up your alley, isn't it?"
"It's not. You didn't do anything to wrong her."
Selene scratched her head. "Oh... Well I thought-"
"The vengeance of a Katerina Tavora is not what drew me toward you," he said, quietly. "Though she believes it, and the Crusaders that caused you to succumb to her thought so, it's a false accusation."
"Hmph. Nobody believes a Witch."
"Really, what drew me to you was that you had been dealt more suffering than you deserved... you were wrongly imprisoned twice and tortured..." Selene could hear the anger laced in his voice as he went on, and could feel the heat emanating from the phone... she grabbed for her chest as if to pump her heart as he finished.
"My darling Witch, my Dantea, I promise you revenge."
"Before or after your little charge is saved, Reaper?"
"What do I need to do to get you in control again?"
"Find my body," she said, "and make sure I don't wake up, until it's over."
"How will I know if it's you that wakes up?"
"To be sure..." Selene thought, "I was branded when I was tortured." Her left hand reached down instinctively to her hip.
"How?"
She clamped her eyes shut as the white hot letter flashed in her mind.
"She's not even Mobian. She doesn't deserve to be treated as such," one of them grumbled as he stood over the fire.
"She's nothing more than a cow," the second one sneered as he held up the white iron, in the shape of the letter M. "Heh heh."
Selene shivered, the chains vibrating as she wriggled against them. "No! No, please! Please, stop-"
"Shut up!" the third one growled, slapping the words out of her mouth. When Selene opened her eyes the white M hovered in front of her face, the heat pressing up against her face.
"My great-great grandfathers owned cattle," the one holding the iron in her face started. "They used this to mark them. M for Moorson."
Then he started to turn the iron upside down.
"But for you... it's a W. For Witch."
"No-" Before she could protest her left hip was ablaze, locking her body up as the iron seared her skin black- black with the W. She screamed until the pain wouldn't allow it, leaving her mouth open as she was-
"Selene!"
She gasped, realizing her steel grip on the telephone handle. Reaper was still calling her name out. "Selene? Are you all right?"
"...it... it was a cattle iron."
"A.. a cattle iron?"His voice became darker, as if being told that someone he knew was doing something that was the complete opposite of what they had told him.
"Y-yeah... on my left hip."
"Your hip?"
"A W."
"Ah..." He growled a little at the end. "And you said that Katerina would be going to the gathering?"
"Most likely... she's made friends among the Witches... Viridian Envy, for certain."
"I see..."
"Your little Splitter's going to be there too," she said, regaining her composure. "You sure you can handle running into him?"
"Certainly. I've nothing to hide from him. What about you?"
"I'm good at wearing a mask, Reaper." Selene shuddered a bit, "Though I'm not sure if I can handle controlling my body and seeing that little Splitter again."
"I'll see you soon, Witch."
"I certainly hope so, Reaper."
Soleanna, one of the most prosperous countries on Mobius. Rich in history and culture, and evidently, Witches. In the big new city, take a wrong turn down a few streets and bam! Witch clubs and pubs and shops and booths- though most Mobians didn't see the hidden Witch-uendo.
This places screams Witch, Witch Silver puffed. Geez, with all the Shakespeare shoved down your throat in school, you'd think they'd be able to tell all these three-clubs are Witch hives.
That's the thing about Mobians. They can't tell, or if they can, they don't think that it's actually a Witch playground.
Silver was strolling down the back streets of Soleanna, wheeling Broom along the somewhat crowded streets, passing shady buildings and shadier figures. He did pay attention the the Wiccan signs: "Annual Gathering: Celebrating Two Thousand and Fourteen Years! Castle Town Under the Harvest Moon."
It's in Wiccan... even though it's well-known that Witches gather in Soleanna.
It isn't to stop Reapers. It's to stop Crusaders, I think. Even if a Mobian deciphers it, it really just the Wiccan Rede.
Let's just keep an eye out for any Witch who remotely looks like us.
On it.
Silver looked around, passing by pointed-hatted women with devilish grins, all in a plethora of colors, species and sizes. Not very helpful, since Silver was looking for whitish, grayish, silvery, hedgehogs. Better than walking into a room full of whitish-grayish hedgehogs playing "Are You My Mother?", he supposed.
Up and down all the back streets and alleys at least twice, no luck. I don't think we're going to find her like this.
Want me to ask around?
No Splitting.
Didn't say anything about Splitting. Let me do the talking. Broom zipped out of existence and Silver walked into a purple curtained placed know as the Emerald Lantern. There was a scent of spice in the air which tinged everything... purple, or magenta, something like that. Scantily clad waitservice wandered around with drinks in different styles of cups. Some looked like they were carved out of stone. It was easy to tell who belonged and who didn't.
He started to walk forward before a drunken Mobian nearly bumped him to the ground. "Hey, you," he slurred. "This ain't no place fur kidss. Get lost!"
Witch's brow furrowed, a smirk stretching across his face. "I didn't know bouncers could have fun at work," he retorted. "Though I've never seen one covered in #$%* before."
"Da $#%* you say to me?" he growled, and two of his buddies stood up. He held his bottle up as if it was a hammer. "I'll $#%^*$ beat the #$%* outta you!"
"Whoa, calm down, mister! Child abuse is illegal in this country!"
A big, actual bouncer came behind Silver, puffing his chest. "These guys bothering you, sir?" A cat's smile formed on Silver's lips.
"Well, this guy,"- he pointed a little crookedly, as if he was a kid,- "just said he was gonna beat the #$%*& outta me." A few more big guys in suits surrounded the drunken group and herded them away from Witch's line of sight.
Over the music, Silver could hear a single slow clap coming from his left. He turned his head a little to see two Witches in a circular booth watching him. The one sitting on the right was dark-furred and green-eyed, and golf clapping.
"Nicely done," she purred with a small smile. "It's good to know that there's still some young blood out there that has sense and good looks."
Shrugging, Witch replied, "I'm not usually this ratty looking, but, thank you."
"Oh, hush," the other one, a pale hedgehog with short white hair giggled. "You look so rugged and fierce."
Hey! Pale hedgehog.
No #$*% Sherlock.
Keep talking. Maybe we could get something out of her. "You think so?"
"Oh, definitely," the first one replied, gesturing him to sit. "You're just the cutest."
"Where are you from?" the pale one asked while he sat down next to the dark one.
"I'm from Holoska," he said, as if it was a big deal.
"Oh, really?" the dark one laughed. "We don't get many Holoskan Witches around here. Or at least, that's what I've heard."
"Well, I guess that's 'cause everyone moves away from frigid, abandoned Holoska. There's nothing to do there, really. Well, nothing fun, anyway."
The ladies giggled before the dark one clasped her hands as she tucked her chin. "Well, this certainly is a charming evening, isn't it? I'm getting excited just thinking about it, aren't you, Caty?"
"Oh, certainly," Caty, the pale hedgehog nodded. "Well, I'm Catryna, and this is Viridian."
Splitter blocked out whatever Viridian had to say about Catryna. Ring any bells?
If you didn't, I didn't.
$%#*. Maybe she's not using her real name.
No, no. She's using her real name-
"So who are you?" Catryna asked, leaning in. Her eyes looked glazed over- or was it just the lighting in the club?
"Argyros," he said, a little too quickly for Reaper's taste. They'll think something's up.
Well, would you want them to know our real name? The hedgehog- she doesn't seem right. She was dressed up like a Witch, and she was hanging out with Witch Viridian, but... the aura she was emanating wasn't right. As if what was "Catryna" didn't fit in with her body.
Suddenly Silver felt as if someone was watching them. Meanwhile, Viridian was talking about how Argyros didn't roll off the tongue as much as Viridian or Catryna did, and Catryna seemed distant, as if fighting voices in her head, too.
A hand clapped on Splitter's shoulder and he nearly jumped into two. The hand pulled him to his feet as the hedgehog said, "Sorry, ladies. I've been looking everywhere for this guy, and I'd like to catch up with him."
Silver looked to the speaker- he was a smiling, black hedgehog with, at least in this light, pink eyes, and tan skin. His devilish grin was enough to woo the girls into taking Silver away. The hedgehog led the bewildered Splitter to a side exit and tossed him into the alley.
The appearance of the hedgehog changed once Silver regained his balance; the charismatic bad boy aura had dissipated in the moonlight replaced with-
A Grim Reaper.
$%*#.
"Your Grace. Our fellow Brothers and Sisters of the Third Continent Order have gathered information about the Splitter, per your request."
The regally dressed Mobian watching over the fire crackling in the fireplace in front of him glanced over his shoulder for an instant before giving a curt nod.
"Their reports have described the Splitter as an adolescent silver hedgehog, with yellow eyes and a white mane. He owns a light blue motorcycle, which is suspected to be his broom."
"And where is this... monstrosity heading?" he asked.
"From an inquiry of a truck driver, he was heading to Soleanna. Presumably for the Gathering, your Highness."
This troubled the Mobian greatly; from previous interrogations of Witches he had been lead to believe that a Splitter would put a stop to his crusade. "Anything else that I should be aware of?"
"Nothing of note, your Grace. That is all."
He glared at the fire again. "What about the Key?"
"Our Brothers and Sisters of the Third Continent haven't gathered anything particularly useful, your Highness."
He turned towards the Mobian with the fiery light in his eyes. "Any information at this stage is useful."
Regaining her lost composure, the attendant stuttered, "Ye-yes, your Highness. I-I will ask the Head of the Third Continent about anything they have gathered on Pandora's Key." And then she left the Mobian alone.
The white-furred Mobian scowled at the news of a Splitter so close to Talaporia. To the accursed box.
They had broken it open and released the monsters inside, but evidently the box was still locked. Locked with Pandora's Key.
"A child born of two souls will unlock the box with the Great Mother's beloved key."
What untold horrors were still sealed within the box that should not have been opened, Owen knew not. And he hoped he would never have to know of them, only that they would be destroyed by his hand.
And no Splitter would stop that.