EDIT: So I'm attempting those ugly pagebreak line thingies, since apparently this thing has a grudge against asterisks :/ Hopefully this at least will work, so that you'll have an easier time reading even if it doesn't look as nice. Cheers!
Chapter 7
A slender figure shakily rose out of the crater, covered in sand from the tips of his wheat-coloured hair to the scruffy toes of those well-worn leather boots. Dazed but for the most part unharmed, Majic stumbled about, squinting in the bright sunlight as he took in his surroundings. His eyes grazed over a dark mess of sand and dirt, the striking mop of copper hair catching his eye as he was turning away.
"Shrimp man!"
His head slowly beginning to clear, Majic wobbled over to where the sorcerer lay, half buried in the sand. Leaning over to grab a visible arm, he shifted back and pulled with all his strength, slowly dragging Hartia out of the sand.
"H-Hartia?" He huffed, dropping to his knees to grasp his shoulders and give him a solid shake. The normally jubilant sorcerer shifted, rolling slightly to the side and blinking blearily up at him, letting out a pained groan.
"Damnit," he sighed, attempting slowly to stand. When that tactic failed, the redhead opted for sitting up. Propping himself up on one hand, he glanced down at himself in disgust. "I hatesand." One of his sleeves was missing, likely having been ripped off by the explosion. Majic hadn't noticed, but now that he was looking, there was a small trail of blood running the length of his arm.
"You're bleeding!" He pointed out the obvious, gesturing frantically to Hartia's arm. He looked down at it with a vague disinterest, before shrugging his shoulders and squinting up at him.
"So are you."
"Huh?"
"Your head; there's a big splotch of red in your hair. I assume it's not a fashion statement."
Majic put a hand to his head slowly, wincing when his fingers brushed over the top of his scalp. It felt a little swollen, and when he brought his hand away it was spotted with red liquid.
"Oh."
A thick trail of blood was trickling down his forehead, pooling at his eyebrow, and he rubbed his arm over it to keep it from getting into his eye.
Hartia made another attempt at standing, this one successful. He made a sweeping gesture with his hands, attempting to get the sand out of his robes. He pulled his injured arm up for inspection, frowning at the absurd amount of blood still oozing out of the wound. Holding his hand over it, he muttered a quick healing spell before turning to Majic and gesturing him forward. The young apprentice ducked his head obediently, silently cursing himself for his lack of confidence. It was a simple enough spell, and since his injury was so slight it wouldn't have used up much of his energy. Still, he supposed it was just easier to let Hartia, who actually knew what he was doing, cast the spells while he sat back and watched.
"Thanks," he offered meekly, running a hand gingerly through his hair to touch the still-sore spot on his head. The swelling was gone, and it felt like the wound had healed relatively well; there was a small patch of hair missing, and he could trace it to feel out how big the wound had been.
"It scarred."
"What?" He glanced up to see Hartia staring intensely at him, looking bewildered. He put both hands on his head, flatting his sand-covered hair to his head to give him a better look at the cut.
"That's not supposed to happen. It was a small wound, it shouldn't have left a scar." He was mumbling to himself, his brows pinched in confusion. "And a weird scar, too. I feel like I've...seen it before, or something." He leaned closer, such that Majic couldn't see his face properly without looking up, which he couldn't do since Hartia was holding his head down. It was really starting to get uncomfortable. "Why are you so familiar to me? Where have I seenyou before...?"
"Uhh, Master Hartia?" Majic stammered, trying to keep from fidgeting as he continued to examine his scalp. "I'm sure you've seen a lot of cuts, you know, in your line of work. It probably reminds you of one of those, or something."
"No." He breathed, pulling back slightly though his eyes remained fixed to the wound, that frown growing ever heavier on his face. "This one is different. I just..." He shook his head, defeated. "I don't know. Maybe it'll come to me later." He turned away, facing the crater they'd both been blown into only moments before. "Where's Krylancelo?"
"I... I dunno," Majic managed, peering down into the sandy dune. "I got knocked out by the blast, I guess. When I came to, I found you first. You don't think-"
"Relax, Majic," a voice broke out from behind him, and they both turned in relief to see Orphen, looking rather worse for wear, standing at the edge of the crater. His bandana was missing, his vest and shirt equally torn to shreds to reveal a gruesome carving across his chest, fresh blood dripping down his front to stain the top of his leather pants. There was a dark leather strap wrapped around his waist that Majic had never noticed before, but at the moment it wasn't much of a concern to him. By the looks of it, Orphen hadn't avoided the sand shower either; his skin was gritty with dirt and bits of rock, his hair dusted such that it looked almost grey in the sunlight. "It would take more than that firework to take me down."
"Master!"
"Krylancelo, your wound-"
His warning was interrupted by a series of wracking coughs as Orphen doubled over, one hand moving to cover his mouth, the other catching his knee in an attempt to remain standing. Hartia rushed to his side, grabbing his arm and throwing it over his shoulder to keep him upright.
"Heal that which is mine," He uttered sharply, pressing his free hand to his friend's bloody chest.
"I'm fine," Orphen protested angrily, shoving away from him. He staggered slightly in the sand before catching his footing and straightening. "Just a scratch."
"My ass!" Hartia shouted back, exasperation clear in the pinch of his eyes, the way his mouth hung slightly open. "I can't believe you; honestly, even with a hole in your chest you think you can do anything, don't you?"
"Where is she?" Orphen demanded, choosing to consider his friend's question as a rhetorical one, his voice coming out toneless. He was staring at his hand, covered in blood from his wound or from something else he didn't even know. Or care, if he was being honest. Really, none of it mattered to him in the slightest; all he wanted, all he needed, was to find that stupid little brat, drag her sorry ass back into the real world, and yell at her until his face turned blue.
The answering silence did nothing to alleviate the sharp pain in his chest, the one that had been growing heavier and more painful since he'd seen her lying there, pinned by that damned wall at the inn.
"Ah! M-Master, look!" Majic suddenly shouted, his voice a confusing mix of relief and panic. Orphen turned to him, saw him pointing at something in the distance that he couldn't quite make out. It looked like some kind of sphere, a semi-translucent bubble that practically screamed sorcery. The sun shone off of it, blinking impatiently at them like a beacon. Squinting against the brightness, he could just make out a figure inside the sphere, a dark smear of colour too far away for him for any form of recognition. Without further comment, he broke into a run, ignoring his screaming lungs, the strain it put on his bruised muscles. He could hear his two companions shouting after him, and soon their heavy footsteps mirrored his own as they ran toward what was likely to be their final battle.
"Orphen!"
Even from a distance, Cleao could make out that damned red bandana, flapping breezily in the slight wind. But she couldn't see him, or any of the others for that matter. Just that stupid scrap of material, and the humongous hole in the ground the Siren's spell had created. She opened her mouth to scream again, the word dying in her throat as something tugged painfully at the back of her shirt, dragging her helplessly to her feet. Before she had time to react or even register what was happening, she was pulled back with a sharp tug, and a hand came around her waist to clamp down tightly, keeping her prisoner. She gasped, a hiss of pain slipping out of her mouth as her hip was squeezed harder, pressing her flush against someone's - 3 guesses, everybody - chest. She struggled, digging her elbows into Its sides as hard as she could in the hopes that It would release her. He - It - grunted in surprised pain, and she took her chance. She stomped as hard as she could on Its foot and, when Its hold loosened, she broke free and made a run for it. Yet again, she found herself running for her life from the very person she'd entrust her body and soul to; her protector, her savior. It was getting harder and harder to distinguish the Siren from Orphen, such that a part of her was screaming at her that she was crazy for trying to hurt him, and for running away when he was the only person who could prevent anything bad from happening to her. At least while he was around to save her. She kept her eyes fixed on that speck of red, even as her resolve faltered and she found herself slowing. What was she doing again? Why was she running..? Just as she began debating whether or not she should stop, her decision was made for her. She smashed head-first into what felt like a solid brick wall, falling back onto her butt with both hands moving to quell the explosive spray of blood pouring from her now-broken nose, the sharp cry of pain she'd unconsciously released still echoing in her ears.
"OW!" Tears of pain blurred her vision, and she blinked them away furiously, trying to see what she'd just collided so painfully with. Empty space greeted her, and she slowly rose to her feet, one hand pinching the bridge of her nose to stem the flow of blood, the other reaching tentatively in front of her. She jerked back in alarm when her fingers met with an invisible wall, the movement leaving a smear of blood that literally appeared to be suspended mid-air. "Wha..What the hell?"
"Dear me, that was terribly unnecessary, don't you think?" The Siren tutted from behind her, Its voice dripping with sarcasm. "You know what they say; Karma's a - well, not a very nice lady."
"What is this thing?" She demanded, her voice coming out muffled since she was still pinching her bleeding nose. It throbbed painfully, and was probably swelling like a grape, but she did her best to just ignore it. She pointed a finger threateningly at Orphen, achieving a surprisingly threatening air as she stared him down. "Let me out, you crazy charlatan. Let me out right now!"
He laughed - the bastard outright laughed in her face - shaking his head with mock amazement. "Wow. I was starting to think you'd never crack. A shame it came too late. Now I'll have to get rid of your friends for nothing." He rolled his shoulders, tilting his head to the side to give his neck a sharp crack. "For that little stunt earlier, I think I'll save you for last. I'm tired of babying you, since you seem to love throwing my mercy ungratefully back in my face."
"Okay, now you're acting like a freak. Is this a joke?" Cleao let go of her nose, which had finally stopped gushing, and put a hand to her forehead to shade her eyes from the sun. "Is Majic hiding somewhere? You guys are trying to pull a fast one on me, aren't you? Well let me tell you, mister, it ain't gonna work-"
He took a hasty step back, grimacing at her in disgust as she continued her rant, completely oblivious to his reaction. "Ugh. Dear God; I think I liked it better when you didn't believe I was him." Holding his arm out, he muttered an incantation that Cleao wouldn't have recognized had she been paying attention, and a door-shaped section of the sphere vanished, leaving a clear path outside. Stepping lithely outside the bubble, he waved his arm once in a semi-circle and the hole sealed itself up again.
"Orphen! Are you even listening to- hey, where are you going?" She shouted after him, marching up to the edge of the bubble before she caught herself; her nose was a painful reminder that she didn't want to make that mistake again. Carefully, she tapped a knuckle against the air - she hit the wall as she'd expected, the dull thud sounding a lot as if she'd knocked on a heavy glass window. "You better not be leaving me in this thing! At least fix my nose first! ORPHEN!"
On the other side of the bubble, Orphen was already walking away, lifting his fingers up in a mock salute/wave as he went. He couldn't hear the girl; the sphere he'd formed was sound-proof, thank the Lord. If he had to listen to that awful screeching for even one more second, well, he would've ended up killing her out of sheer annoyance. And, really. Where was the fun in that?
The trio had made it close enough to see inside the sphere when the Siren emerged, waving behind it with an amused smirk. Orphen's gaze hesitated on It for a moment, taking in Its appearance. From what he could tell...Well, aside from a severe crack in fashion sense, the thing looked exactly like him. Hell, that little two-fingered salute was practically his trademark. There was the most peculiar urge to demand the Siren stopped stealing his stuff and used Its own material. Then his gaze shifted to the girl standing inside the bubble, slamming her fists angrily against the barrier. He could see that she was yelling, shouting some angry and no doubt inappropriate key phrases at the Siren's back, but there was no sound, at least none that he could make out. More importantly, he could see a thin river of crimson leading from the middle of her face to the first few opened buttons of her blouse, staining the once-orange material a dark red. That pain in his chest tripled, a sharp stabbing that left him suffocating, gasping for air even as the Siren approached.
"Well, well," his own voice taunted, amused, "it seems the faith our little Cleao has in you isn't as undeserving as I'd originally expected."
He couldn't tear his eyes away from her; She clearly wasn't seriously injured, if she could still kick up a tantrum any spoiled princess would envy, but it brought back the image of her lying there, bloodied and broken, completely unresponsive. He felt the tearing in his chest gradually shift; his blood flooded his veins, pulsing rapidly as he took in her appearance, moving closer to get a better view. Now he could see her faltering, her crystal blue eyes flicking between him and the Siren's, clearly confused. He could also see the swollen mess her nose was in, and a spark of rage pushed the last of that helpless feeling away. Clenching his hands tightly at his sides, he finally pulled his eyes away from hers to stare down his new opponent.
"Well, what can I say?" Orphen drawled, shrugging his shoulders lazily. He was the picture of ease, save for his fists, clenched so tightly that he could feel his nails digging into the skin underneath the gloves. "I amthe Scion of Sorcery, after all."
"Oh yes, I know," the Siren confessed, coming to a rest a good 6 paces away, its hip cocked to the side in defiance. "I know almost everything about you, Krylancelo. In fact, I likely know more about you than you do."
"Master!"
"Krylancelo!"
Hartia and Majic scrambled to a halt behind him, both huffing from exerting themselves. He flicked one palm behind him, gesturing for them to stay back; his eyes never left his enemy.
"Eager little guys, aren't they?" The Siren chortled, its red eyes flickering curiously over the two newest guests. He frowned, inspecting them both intently for a moment. "Hm. Interesting; Now that's not really what I expected at all. This should be fun."
"Alright, demon boy," Orphen growled, bringing his left arm up, index and middle fingers pointed to the sky. A blue blade stretched from his fingertips, and he drew his hand sharply to the side, slicing the air threateningly. "You get points for sexiness, but you completely lack any creativity. Does the phrase 'Epic Fail' mean anything to you?"
"Oh, excellent. I was hoping you'd start with the blade." The siren clapped gleefully - and it looked so completely oddto see himself performing such a ridiculous action - before mimicking his movement; the same blade shot up from his hand, the only difference being its dark red-black colour. Grinning wickedly, the Siren shifted into the exact same battle stance. "Shall we begin?"
With a low growl, Orphen shot forward, his blade drawn menacingly. The Siren met him halfway, their twin blades clashing with a ground-shaking impact. Orphen hopped back before lashing out to the side, aiming for the hip. The Siren dropped its blade to parry the blow before sending a booted foot straight to his gut. His breath whooshing out of him from the impact, Orphen stumbled back, just barely managing to block the Siren's next attack. He dropped to one knee, muttering a low "I call thee," before rolling to the left and throwing his free hand forward and spitting out the finishing line, "sisters of destruction!". There was a flash of purple light before the ground before him literally erupted, a huge explosion that sent him skidding backward, a thick haze of sand momentarily blinding him.
"Master! Master, you did it!" Through the ringing in his ears, he could hear his apprentice shouting for him; he felt a hand on his shoulder, tugging anxiously until he shoved himself into a standing position.
"Majic get back!"
"But-"
A bolt of silver lightning shot toward them through the cloud of dirt, and Orphen barely managed to throw up a shield before it came crashing into them.
"Get outta here!" He shouted, gritting his teeth as he strained against the force of the spell, his arms spread wide in the shape of a cross. Hartia grabbed the stunned apprentice by the nape of his cloak - well, it was actually hiscloak, which he wanted back as soon as this was over, but that was an issue for another time - and heaved him backward just as Orphen's shield cracked and the force blew him off his feet.
"Aw, are we finished already? That was a little disappointing." The Siren sighed, strutting through the settling sand, looking like he had barely broken a sweat. Even so, a thin cut marred his once-perfect face and as a tiny trickle of blood oozed from the wound, he paused, looking startled. Raising a hand to wipe his face, he stared at the blood with an expression that bordered on impressed.
"I was just warming up," Orphen shot back, struggling to his feet. He wavered slightly before righting himself, his arms hanging at his sides. "But if you're ready to end this little game, it'll be my pleasure to blow you to pieces."
"Krylancelo! It's too powerful, you can't take it on alone-"
"-Shut up and go help Cleao." He barked out, his murderous glare never leaving his own smirking reflection. His shoulder throbbed from slamming into the ground; he was pretty sure it wasn't dislocated, but even if it was, that wasn't really important at the moment. He'd fought through worse. He rolled his other shoulder, flexing his fingers experimentally. Nothing broken.
Good.
"Round two?" The siren suggested, reaching behind him to tug at the hem of his pants. When he drug his hand forward, it was to reveal a short, razor sharp sword that glinted dangerously in the light. "How about we try realblades this time, assassin?"
Orphen started at the name, his fingers twitching with the urge to beat the thing senseless. No one knew that about him; it had been a dark secret, something he had spent the last 3 years trying unsuccessfully to bury in the past. Only Childman had known of his gift with a blade, his mastery of stealth. Childman had been the one to teach him, after all.
His fingers curled around the hilt of a dagger, one of a twin set that was sheathed at his lower back, normally hidden beneath his vest. It had been so long since he'd used a blade that he hadn't conjured up himself. He didn't like the familiar feel of cool steel between his fingers; he didn't want the memories to surface, the countless murders he'd justified as his only way of survival.
"Better give it your all," he spoke, the words tasting like lead on his tongue, "because I'm not holding back."
"I wouldn't have it any other way."
And then It was dashing toward him, the blade swinging in one smooth arc as It closed the distance between them, a maniacal grin spread across Its face.
Orphen pulled both daggers out of their sheaths and parried the blow, jabbing forward with one arm even as he blocked another attack.
The Siren danced backward, laughing, Its red eyes glinting with excitement, and the fight continued.
What the hell was going on? First, she was running away from Orphen and into a freaking invisible wall. Then he was ditching her to go fight himself, and now Shrimpy and Majic were trying to talk to her through an apparently sound-proof freaking invisible wall.
Was this a dream? Had she hit her head or something? None of this was making sense.
"Ma-jic." She tried, for the umpteenth time, to convey to the kid that she had no idea what he was saying. "I. Can't. Hear. You." When he continued to babble, gesturing frantically with his arms in what looked like a jumbled lifting motion, she rolled her eyes. She pressed her hands to her ears and shook her head, hoping that would be simple enough for him to understand.
Honestly, sometimes Majic could be so dense.
And then Hartia was standing beside him, slowly mouthing something and gesturing with his hands, as if he were pushing something away from him. She tried to concentrate on his mouth, to read what he was trying to say.
"…Mo…try…spell. Motry spell? Mo try a spell? Who the hell is Mo?" And then he was gesturing more frantically with his arms, shoving them forward in a shooing motion.
"OH! Move! You want me to move so you can try a spell! Got it!" She smacked her fist into her open palm, nodding her understanding before she turned on her heel and jogged away from the wall. Her memory was super foggy; she couldn't remember where the hell they were, or what they were doing, but she had that sinking feeling she only got when she felt guilty or responsible for something bad. So, it was probably safe to assume that whatever mess they were in was her fault. Just perfect. No wonder Orphen had locked her up.
But then, why were Hartia and Majic struggling so much to let her out? Didn't they know the spell to reverse it? And what the hell was the deal with the double Orphen duel thingy going on out there?
God. This had to be a dream. It made absolutely no sense otherwise.
As the two sorcerers attempted a few different spells against the bubble, she turned her attention to the fight going on behind them. The two Orphens were really going at it; they'd abandoned the magical blades for those made of steel – she hadn't even known Orphen carried actual weapons with him. How had she never noticed something like that? Watching them attacking each other with a growing sense of panic, she found she couldn't tell the difference between them. Which one was the "good" Orphen? The one without the shirt, swinging around two lethal daggers, or the one with the white dress shirt and shortsword? They moved in exactly the same manor. Cleao had been his partner for almost 3 years now, so she'd learned every move Orphen made, every stance, every damn twitch of muscle. And yet, she couldn't tell them apart by their fighting style; it was like they were the same freaking person.
Well, the "bad" Orphen had to be the dude with the shirt on, she decided. Since when did he ever wear anything that wasn't leather? Seriously, the guy was practically married to that damn vest of his. But then, what the hell was the deal with the other Orphen? Did he have some evil twin that he'd failed to mention to the rest of them? Or maybe he hadn't even known about him; after all, he'd grown up in an orphanage. Maybe they'd been separated at birth or something.
A low rumbling interrupted her muddled thoughts and she glanced away from the fight to find the source of the sound. On the other side of the barrier, Majic and Hartia looked decidedly pale, but they bore identical expressions of defeat. So, they hadn't found a way for her to get out then. What the hell was that noise then?
Suddenly, a spidery vein shot across the barrier, a sound like cracking glass accompanying it. As she watched, more and more veins crackled across the bubble until the entire wall in front of her was carved to pieces, impossible to see through. The splintering of glass was deafening, and with a sudden understanding, Cleao backed up as far as she could, staring fearfully at the wall as it began to shatter. With a deafening boom, the entire wall crumbled, bits and pieces of the bubble spraying everywhere as it collapsed. Cleao dropped to her knees and pulled her arms over her head to shield herself from the fragments.
"Cleao! Cleao, are you injured?" There was the sound of crunching glass underfoot, the young apprentice's voice finally breaking through the sound-proof barrier to reach her. She lifted her head up to see that the wall had completely shattered, and Majic was kneeling in front of her, his big blue eyes blinking down at her anxiously.
"I think my nose might be broken, no thanks to that giant jerk!" She jutted her chin in the direction of the still-fighting Orphens before sighing and turning to look Majic over. Hartia was stumbling over to them, trying vainly to avoid stepping on any glass shards. "What the hell happened to you two? Actually, scratch that. What the hell is going on around here! Where are we?"
Majic looked her over nervously as Hartia reached them, peering close to examine her nose. "Definitely broken," he confirmed before lifting a hand to press gently against her swollen nose and raising a brow as if to ask permission.
"Please!"
Nodding, he muttered the spell under his breath – he couldn't remember the last time he'd used healing spells in such quick succession – and glanced at her nose. The swelling was gone, and the bone looked to have re-aligned itself properly, though there was still some major brusing.
"Tada. Almost good as new."
"At least someone had the decency to fix it," she grumbled unhappily before rounding on Majic. "Now, answer my questions! What's the friggin' deal!"
Majic looked taken aback; he glanced from her to Hartia, who looked just as perplexed. "You mean," he stammered slightly, eying her again with those damn concerned eyes of his, his brow furrowed, "You really don't remember?"
"Remember what?"
"Um, well," he began, running a hand through his hair in almost exactly the same way as his master, "You were in the inn when it…Exploded."
"…Exploded?"
"Yeah…We don't really know what happened; by the time we got there, you were already trapped here."
"Wait, what? Slow down. What inn? I was in an explosion?"
"Don't you remember at all? The creepy old guy with the really shifty eyes, and the creepy chuckle?"
"Uh, I'm gonna say no."
"Well, we ended up staying at his inn. And somehow, you got trapped here by a Siren after the inn exploded. We're in a dream world, or something like that."
"So this is a dream then. But wait, what the hell is a Siren?"
"Well-"
"-Hate to interrupt, children," Hartia snapped, looking quite unabashed by it, "but you do realize that Orphen is in a life-or-death battle with said demon right now?"
Cleao glanced over his shoulder to the ongoing fight; neither one of them appeared to be letting up. "So one of them, I'm assuming the well-dressed guy, is actually a Siren?"
"Yeah. You've been stuck with that thing here for at least 24 hours now. Maybe It's making you lose your memories or something..?"
"Well, damn that thing! I'm not about to let anything kill Orphen before I get the chance to! Let's go kick its ass!"
"Wah- Cleao, wait!"
"You're gonna hurt yourself! Are you insane?"
"Somebody's gotta save Orphen's butt! And I am his partner after all." With that, Cleao charged forward, eyes fixed on the Siren as It and Orphen continued their battle. She was his partner, damnit. She'd been working with him for years, and she'd really learned from Stephanie whenever they stopped by to visit during their travels. She could do this; she could help him. He was always throwing himself into danger to protect her. Even now, apparently, he was fighting this Siren to save her.
Well, now it was her turn to fight. She would protect him this time.
If anyone's curious, the fight scene between Orphen and the Siren was inspired by the 2nd opening from the first season of the Anime - I think the song is called Serenade, but I'm not entirely sure!
FnI
