Author's note: this chapter underwent some heavy revisions, though it still contains graphic violence.
Chapter Ten
Forceful Consequences
The cavernous room Shanoa found herself in was huge in its own right, but it was only a fraction of the gargantuan infrastructure that was Dracula's castle. The stronghold seemed to stretch on for miles, and Shanoa wondered how much of the castle existed in the earthly realm. She had seen the shift in reality as she made her way down into the bowels of the bastion and passed through windowed halls that afforded her a rare glimpse of the world outside. She saw the expected mountain wilderness, but the sky above the scenery gave her pause. The universe spun at a dizzying pace. It transitioned from day to night within a matter of seconds and the stars streaked white lines against the blackness of space. Shanoa attributed the phenomenon to the dimensional instability that Dracula was causing. Still, a part of her questioned how much time she had lost in these halls.
She had fought her way through the castle's armory until she reached what appeared to be a coliseum. The ceiling towered so high above her that Shanoa could barely see it. Metal spikes jutted from the stones overhead and glinted in the light of the blazing beacons that lined the edges of the oval space. Stone bleachers surrounded the arena; the top row additionally supported overhanging arches. A strange, dark blue light glowed from behind the arches, but she could not see the source.
What made the warrior pause was not the size of the room itself, but the sharp incline in front of her. A massive ramp of carved stone rose up to a doorway situated high above the arena floor on the opposite wall. Shanoa saw a crimson light pulse from the room beyond and she knew she had at last located Arma Custos. Cerberus' third head called to her, and while her instincts warned her against ascending the slope Shanoa had no other choice. She had to obtain the Glyph in order to unlock the passage that would lead her to Dracula.
So the warrior climbed.
An unsettling feeling grew in the pit of the warrior's stomach as she climbed higher and higher above the arena floor. She preferred to reach her destination as soon as possible, but she resisted the urge to use Rapidus Fio. The whirlwind force the Glyph created could launch her up the slope faster than she could run, but as it was a recent acquisition her experience with the Glyph was limited. She questioned her ability to control it on anything other than a flat surface. If Shanoa miscalculated and lunged to either side she risked hurling herself off the slope. A fall from this height threatened severe injury or even death.
Shanoa was close to the top when she was obstructed by a wall of curved rock. She stopped to determine the best way to climb over it, but paused when she felt something shift.
The stone ramp had moved.
Her heart skipped a beat at the unexpected sensation and a faint hint of dread tugged at her. Yet the small stirring of emotional fear was drowned out by a rush of adrenaline. Shanoa prepared for battle. She did not flinch as the wall before her split in two and pulled back to reveal a giant red eye.
Shanoa steadied herself as the behemoth beneath her groaned to life. She faltered as her balance was offset by the creature's movement. The eye remained fixated on her as she stumbled.
Something large and heavy slammed into her back and the warrior cried out as she was hurled up and over the creature's head towards the far wall. Shanoa relaxed her body as she flew through the air in anticipation of the impending collision. She managed to twist herself around in time and crashed into the wall.
Shanoa immediately began to fall forward and tried to grasp for a hold. Thankfully, the wall was not a flat surface and she managed to hook her arms around a protruding stone slab. Her head spun and Shanoa gasped for air as she assessed the new enemy that towered before her.
The creature was massive in every sense of the word. It took on the appearance of a centaur knight composed of an interesting mixture of sculpted stone and bright metallic, mechanical construct. Sections of the behemoth appeared to be glowing, but Shanoa had barely studied her foe when she noticed that two gigantic crossbows attached to its front legs had whirred to life. They rotated and took aim at the vulnerable warrior.
Shanoa let go of the slab as the centaur released the bolts. She heard the projectiles burrow into the stone above her as she tumbled down the wall. It wasn't a straight free-fall to the ground; Shanoa managed to slow her progress by grabbing a few more protruding bricks. She landed hard on the arena floor and groaned in pain. The warrior quickly retrieved a red vial from her pouch and drank its contents. The potion was not a cure-all, but it would help mend whatever injuries she might have sustained during the fall.
She heard something slice through the air above her and Shanoa looked up in time to see a huge blue sword driving towards her. The warrior rolled to the side and a loud grinding sound echoed throughout the chamber as the tip of the blade plunged into the floor. Shanoa leapt to her feet and strafed around the centaur as it tugged the weapon free. The behemoth's head turned from side to side. It appeared to have momentarily lost track of her.
She took advantage of that brief pause to formulate a plan of attack. The giant eye was a glaring weak point. She just needed to figure out a way to reach it.
The centaur found her again and swung its gargantuan sword in a broad vertical arc. It crashed onto the ground in front of the warrior; the wall of blue steel effectively blocking her path. She pivoted and ran in the opposite direction, but the centaur swung its sword again and she was obstructed by another wall. It seemed that she could not strafe around the creature. A head-on attack would be her best option.
Shanoa scanned the front of the behemoth for any sign of weakness and noted the two shining red plates that covered the centaur's kneecaps. They would be suitable targets. She dashed towards the centaur's front legs. The creature watched her approach and stamped its hooves in an attempt to discourage her from getting too close, but it lost sight of her as she moved underneath. The centaur continued to crash around blindly, though its massive size and weight slowed its movement. Shanoa was able to maneuver close enough to leap on top of its right hoof and she clutched the grooves carved into the stone surface. The centaur did not seem to be able to feel her grip on its limb and continued its effort to trample her. The vibrations from the hoof's repeated collisions with the ground threatened to loosen her hold, but Shanoa held fast and began to climb.
She only needed to get halfway up the centaur's calf before the red plate was within striking distance. Shanoa summoned Melio Macir and the giant hammer materialized in the air above her outstretched right hand. She gripped the handle, planted her feet on a grooved surface, and – with an upward thrust – propelled both herself and the weapon towards the weak point. Melio Macir barreled through the air as she swung and smashed into the red plate. There was a loud cracking sound and the plate shattered under the force of the impact.
The beast's head tilted back as it made an ear-splitting noise that reminded her of nails dragged against metal. Shanoa guessed the sound was akin to a howl of pain. She felt the leg tremble and threaten to give way. The warrior hastened to cripple the beast and swung Melio Macir a second time. There was no protective plate covering the joint and she heard a sickening crunch as the weapon made contact. Another grating roar pierced through the air and the knee buckled. As the leg crashed towards the ground Shanoa flung herself out to the side to avoid being crushed beneath it. She ducked into a roll as she hit the arena floor and righted herself. The centaur's left leg had stilled and she charged towards the other hoof.
The behemoth bent over its damaged knee as Shanoa began to ascend the left calf. Without any jerking movements the climb was an easy one and she brought herself to eye level with the plate before she summoned the hammer Glyph. The centaur didn't realize what she was doing until the warrior shattered the second plate. The beast swiped at her with a roar. A giant hand found her side and Shanoa was thrown from the knee. She cried out in pain as her back slammed against the arena floor and she stared up at the enraged creature.
The centaur somehow found the strength to stand on both its front legs. Its right leg shook as the creature gained its footing, but stilled as the behemoth eyed the tiny warrior sprawled beneath it. It stamped its right hoof and reared up on its hindquarters in a defiant challenge. The warrior watched as the hooves rose and kicked above her head; the damn thing was going to trample her. Spurred on by a sudden impulse, Shanoa pushed herself to her feet and summoned Rapidus Fio.
Her vision blurred as the Glyph hurled the warrior forward. It was a short burst and Shanoa skidded to a stop before the centaur's rear hooves. The creature fell forward; a violent vibration surged through the ground as its front hooves slammed against hard stone. It became confused when it looked down to inspect her trampled body, but could not find a corpse.
Shanoa searched for her next target. The four crossbows were a point of concern, but familiar red plates were fixed above their central gears. Shanoa summoned Melio Ascia and the axe spun in the air above her head as she took aim at the bow on the centaur's right hindquarter. She ran out from underneath the monster. The giant eye immediately locked onto the source of the movement. Shanoa didn't flinch under its glare and hurled the axe at its weak point. The Glyph found its mark and the blade buried deep into the gear. The new obstruction locked the crossbow in place.
The beast bellowed once more and took aim at her with the working crossbow. Shanoa ran underneath the creature and out of its line of fire. The centaur clamored around the arena in an attempt to force her out from beneath it, but its lumbering movements allowed Shanoa to stay under its body with relative ease. When it realized that tactic was futile the centaur stopped and raised its right front hoof. It kicked backwards at the warrior, but she dodged to the left. Shanoa flung another axe at the undamaged front crossbow. The blade embedded in the behemoth's shoulder and it faltered in pain.
Shanoa repeated the process two more times. The warrior weaved back and forth beneath the centaur as she disabled the remaining crossbows. The creature continued to try to kick at her, but it always missed. It wasn't long before the creature was studded with Melio Ascia's barbed axes.
The centaur stumbled around for a few moments after Shanoa struck the fourth crossbow. Its body swayed before it crouched down, and then – to the warrior's surprise – the behemoth leapt into the air. She did not know what the creature intended to do, but there was now a clear path to the monster's rear. Shanoa launched forward with Rapidus Fio and ground to a stop before she slammed into the opposite wall. The entire room shook when the centaur landed, but any delusions it might have had of victory were squashed when the giant red eye caught sight of Shanoa. Its pupil dilated as she rushed towards its bladed tail.
It was almost within reach when the lethal appendage pulled back and the centaur took aim at her. Shanoa moved in a random serpentine pattern, but the giant eye followed her movements. The warrior paused in anticipation and allowed the bladed tail to hover above her head. The eye watched her as she feigned a dodge to the right. The centaur fell for the trick and plunged the blade into the ground where it thought she would be. Shanoa had, instead, rolled to the left and strafed behind the tail.
The behemoth encountered some difficulty when it tried to wrench the blade out of the arena floor. Its tail had caught in the stone which stilled the beast's movement enough for Shanoa to grab hold of it. She was able to climb a few feet before the centaur pulled the blade free of the ground. The behemoth violently shook its tail and Shanoa lost her grip. The warrior cursed as she tumbled to the floor and righted herself. She did not feel any pain, but growled in frustration as adrenaline coursed through her.
Under different circumstances she might have admired the centaur's resilience, but she was determined to reach Dracula. The behemoth only served as another obstacle between her and the Dark Lord. Shanoa searched for more red-plated weak points and spotted two orbs located on the hocks of its back legs. She felt the blood pound in her arms as she once again summoned Melio Ascia. The warrior hurled the axe at the left orb before she immediately invoked the Glyph a second time and attacked its right leg.
The centaur staggered in pain, yet it was not enough to satisfy Shanoa.
She rained a barrage of axes upon the red orbs. The assault did not allow the behemoth a chance to lash out with its tail again. A loud, grating howl rang in Shanoa's ears as she flung blade after blade at the centaur. Both plates shattered, but she did not stop. Multiple axes had cleaved deep into the exposed tendons before the beast shrieked in agony and collapsed against the arena floor.
The tail lopped onto the ground in front of her and Shanoa leapt on top of the limp appendage. She sprinted along the tail and up the centaur's back; her previous concerns about Rapidus Fio remained forefront in her mind. The red eye glared at her as she drew near. It seemed to challenge Shanoa; a silent defiance of her unprecedented gall. She was a mere human, and it was a ferocious monster.
Yet no monster had ever been able to best her. Shanoa summoned Melio Secare, gripped the handle with both hands, and plunged the ethereal sword deep into the crimson iris.
The centaur screamed. A high-pitched metallic screech reverberated off the arena walls as a slick black liquid gushed out of the damaged eye. Shanoa withdrew the blade and drove it into the soft tissue a second time. The behemoth continued to scream and bucked its hind legs. Shanoa dismissed the Glyph and clutched the stone eyelid as it tried to throw her over its head again, but the centaur could not break her grip.
The black liquid continued to pour out of the red eye and the iris spun in a strange, rapid motion. The centaur reared up on its hind legs and she decided to take a chance. Shanoa let go of the eyelid and slid down the stone saddle carved into the creature's back. She grabbed the bottom edge of the saddle before she fell off and waited for the behemoth to lower its front legs. Once its body was parallel to the floor Shanoa climbed to her feet and dual summoned Melio Hasta and Rapidus Fio.
The eye widened at the sight of the green whirlwind, but it was a mere split second before Shanoa was upon it. She drove the lance Glyph into the pupil as the gale force of Rapidus Fio propelled her forward.
It let forth a dying scream and swayed as Shanoa continued to drive the lance deeper into the crimson eye. The behemoth crashed to the floor and the warrior gripped the eyelid as she rode out the ensuing wave of death throes.
Shanoa panted and looked down at her hands. She still clutched the lance that remained buried deep inside the eye. The warrior grimaced as black liquid spilled out of the rendered tissue and ran down the length of her arms-
"All right, that's enough!" Laura shuddered. "You're going to make me lose my appetite."
The pair had gotten so caught up in Shanoa's story that they'd forgotten to stop and eat lunch. They had traveled well into the early afternoon before their hunger reminded them of the skipped meal. After a short search they found a small clearing a little ways off the trail and sat down on the grass as they ate.
"Sorry," the warrior said. "I'm just so accustomed to combat that I don't think about how gruesome a topic it can be."
"So blood and gore doesn't bother you?" Laura asked. Shanoa took another bite of her food and shrugged.
"It does to a degree," she said after she had chewed and swallowed. "But given enough exposure you become numb to it, especially in the heat of battle. The supposed loss of my emotions didn't help matters. A dulled sense of empathy blinded me to the violence. For the most part I wasn't aware of the extent of the carnage. Only when I look back on it now do I see how… messy the whole thing was." Laura nodded in understanding.
"That makes sense, but I wonder if that'd be the case now. Perhaps you're not quite as de-sensitized as you think," the jeweler said. Shanoa shrugged again.
"I'm not in any hurry to test that theory." They fell silent as they continued to eat their meal. A gap in the trees allowed rays of sunlight to shine down on them unobstructed and provided comfortable warmth to counteract the cool autumn air.
Suddenly, the hairs on the back of Shanoa's neck rose. The warrior lifted her head. Her instincts screamed that something was off, but she could not immediately discern what it was. Shanoa dropped her food and stood up. Her body tensed as she looked around for any sign of danger.
"Shanoa?" Laura stared up at her with a quizzical look on her face.
There's something here…
"You two look a little lost." Shanoa turned in the direction of the unexpected voice. A large, well-built man stepped out of the forest underbrush and into the clearing. Her eyes narrowed as she studied the stranger.
He was outfitted in dark green and brown travel garb that she noted would serve as an apt form of camouflage in the heavily wooded mountainside. The man did not appear to be carrying a weapon; a point that fueled Shanoa's suspicions. Monster attacks had been a very real threat in recent months, and despite their sudden disappearance the mere possibility of ambush would leave many travelers wary. Either this man was a monumental fool or he had concealed his weapon. Shanoa suspected the latter.
She frowned at the implications of her assessment. Whatever his motivations, she doubted this was a chance encounter. The warrior searched for signs of a weapon hidden beneath his clothing. If she knew what he was armed with it would better prepare her should the stranger turn hostile. He took another step forwards and Shanoa unsheathed the hunting knife that was strapped to her side. She pointed the blade at the man as she took a defensive, but threatening, stance.
"Laura, get behind me." Her eyes slid to the jeweler who had also dropped her meal and stood up. Laura nodded and began to move towards Shanoa. The stranger chuckled at their distrustful behavior and held out his arms in a peaceful gesture.
"There's no call for unpleasantness here," he said with an empty smile. "I was tracking a deer when I noticed that you two seem to have wandered off the path a bit. I thought I'd come and see if you need help finding it again." He took another cursory step towards Shanoa, but stopped when she shot him a dangerous glare. She studied his face. The man had gruff, angular features and his jawline was hidden underneath rough brown stubble. There was a predatory glint in his green eyes. A long red scar cut a jagged course from the outside of his left eyebrow, around his cheek, and down his neck. He looked the part of a man who was no stranger to a brawl.
"Do you have much luck felling game without a bow?" Shanoa asked as Laura came up behind her. The man appeared taken aback by her question, but after a momentary pause he flashed the warrior a coy grin.
"A hunter is not limited to a bow and arrow. I could be using a gun."
"But you're not." Shanoa inclined her head towards his waist. "Even if your story was true I doubt a non-malicious hunter would feel compelled to hide their gun belt. Now, I suggest you turn around and go back the way you came." The man clicked his tongue.
"It doesn't have to be like this," he said with a shake of his head.
"Oh, but it does." Shanoa bared her teeth at him and growled. The stranger hung his shoulders and sighed, but did not make a move to retreat. Instead, he snapped his fingers.
Three men leapt out of the forest at his signal. All of them brandished swords and pointed the blades at the women. Shanoa's grip on the hunting knife tightened. They were dressed in a fashion that mirrored the first man's rugged style. Her suspicions had been correct; they were a small group of bandits. Shanoa felt Laura press against her. The women stood back to back as the three men approached and moved to circle the pair.
"Now, I suggest you drop the knife," the man with the scar (who Shanoa assumed to be their leader) said with a smirk. One of the men dared to get close to the warrior. He brought the tip of his blade to rest underneath her chin. Shanoa paused as she sized up her opponent. He seemed amused by her indignation and lifted the sword higher until it pointed between her eyes. She frowned, but relaxed her stance. Shanoa dropped her shoulders and bent down slightly as if to acquiesce to the leader's demands.
For a fraction of a second the bandit in front of her lowered his guard at her display of submission, but it was all that Shanoa needed. In a quick, fluid motion the warrior righted herself and knocked his sword away with the blade of her knife. The bandit was startled by her unexpected retaliation and slashed back at Shanoa on instinct. His sword cut a clumsy arc through the air and opened himself up enough for the warrior to make a move. She rushed the bandit and caught the limb in a strong hold. He squirmed, but she did not yield. Shanoa twisted the arm to a violent degree until it snapped under the pressure.
The man screamed in agony, but Shanoa continued to wrench at the broken limb until he released his grip on the sword. He gasped and almost doubled-over from the pain. Shanoa – spurred on by a rush of adrenaline – kneed the man just below his diaphragm. He sputtered as his body seized. She let go of the bandit and he collapsed to the forest floor. The warrior swiftly bent down and picked up his discarded sword with her left hand. She pivoted to face the two armed bandits and brandished both blades in a vicious challenge.
"Come on!" Shanoa shouted. She may have lost her Glyphs, but she had been tempered by combat. She could wield a metallic weapon as masterfully as any ethereal blade.
Laura stood frozen between the warrior and the remaining bandits. The black bow and her small dagger had been set aside with their packs, but Laura did not attempt to make a move for them. Instead she started to back up towards Shanoa, but the man farthest from the warrior lunged to grab ahold of her. Shanoa threw the hunting knife and the blade embedded deep into the bandit's right shoulder. He howled in pain and clutched at the wound with his left hand.
The jeweler did something unexpected. Instead of retreating she charged for the wounded man and punched him hard in the face. The bandit's head snapped to the side as he staggered under the force of the blow. Laura pulled back her arm to throw another punch, but before she could swing the man twisted and backhanded her across her face.
"Laura!" Shanoa dashed towards her friend, but the third bandit leapt in front of her and blocked her path.
Their swords clashed into each other as the two fighters converged. Shanoa's attention shifted away from Laura as she attempted to dispose of the bandit as quickly as possible. The warrior tried to overwhelm her opponent with a barrage of offensive attacks. She was relentless, but he was more skilled than Shanoa anticipated. The bandit managed to defend against the repeated blows.
There was no grace to Shanoa's form. Her haste and fury overrode any discipline the elders of Ecclesia had instilled in her. It was one thing to threaten her, but to have the gall to harm someone she cared about?
I won't let anyone get away with that!
The swords locked together with another loud ring. Shanoa dug her feet into the ground as both combatants placed their weight against their blades. The bandit was larger than she was, but Shanoa possessed stronger conviction. She forced herself closer; the bandit trembled slightly as she inched forward. The warrior bared her teeth at him before she kneed him hard in the groin. He cried out and buckled over in pain. Shanoa stood over him as he knelt on the ground. He groaned as she shifted her stance in order to deliver a swift kick to his head.
The warrior froze when she heard the sound of a distinctive, familiar click. She looked up to confirm the source of the noise and her gut twisted at what she saw.
The man Laura had punched in the face managed to get ahold of the jeweler. His right arm hung limp at his side, the knife still buried in his shoulder, while his left was wrapped around Laura's neck. The jeweler appeared somewhat dazed, but a raw fury burned behind her eyes. She clawed at her captor's arm with both hands, yet he did not loosen his hold. The man with the scar stood next to them. He had drawn a gun during the fight and pointed the barrel at Laura's head.
"I think that's quite enough fooling around." There was a playful lilt to his voice, but it was offset by the harsh glare in his eyes. "Now, I suggest you drop that sword and get on your knees."
Shanoa growled and returned his glare with one of her own. Her pride as a warrior refused to submit to the machinations of a coward. The man stepped closer to Laura and pressed the gun against her temple.
"I won't ask a second time," he said in a much harder tone. Shanoa hesitated and her gaze found Laura's. The jeweler attempted to put on a show of bravery, but she could not conceal her fear. Laura winced and tried to pull away from the gun barrel, but her captor held fast. Shanoa cringed and groaned in defeat.
"All right." The warrior stepped away from the disarmed bandit. She tossed her sword to the side and knelt on the ground in the middle of the clearing.
"Put your arms behind your back." Shanoa glared at the bandit leader again, but complied with his demand. "Anton, get off your ass and bind her hands."
The man Shanoa had kneed in the groin moaned and forced himself to his feet. He moved slowly; the pain from her blow had not yet subsided. Anton grabbed a coiled rope that hung from a hook attached to his belt. He walked behind Shanoa and proceeded to bind her wrists.
"That bitch is mine!" A new voice demanded. The man with the broken arm staggered towards her. His face was contorted by a mixture of agony and pure rage.
"Control yourself, Joseph," the leader said in an even tone.
"Fuck you, Sorin!" Flecks of spittle flew from Joseph's mouth. "This was supposed to be a straightforward job: we go in, overpower a couple of easy targets, take what we want, and leave! Now it's gone to shit! She broke my fucking arm in half!" His right arm was bent at an unnatural degree. Shanoa could see the splintered bone press against the underside of his skin. "I'm going to kill the bitch!"
"Both of them are to be left alive." Sorin's expression dared the other bandit to challenge him. "Need I remind you that we all agreed to follow these terms?"
Joseph balled his good hand in anger, but did not offer a retort. He marched towards Shanoa and she steeled herself for the incoming blow. The bandit punched her hard in the face, but it took a great deal of strength to cause Shanoa pain. Joseph did not have that strength. Her head snapped to the side and she felt the inside of her cheek slice open on one of her teeth. Shanoa tasted copper as blood pooled in her mouth. She spat at Joseph and a red glob stained the front of his shirt.
"Not even a whimper. You probably couldn't kill this woman even if you tried." Sorin laughed before he shifted his attention to the uninjured man. "Anton, take care of Martin's shoulder while I tie this one up."
"What about me?" Joseph asked and pointed to his broken limb.
"Put your anger to good use and see to it that she doesn't cause any more trouble. We'll fix your arm later." Sorin dismissed him with a wave. Joseph muttered something under his breath and took a potion out of a satchel slung at his side. He uncorked the bottle with his thumb and chugged the mixture in a single gulp. He shot Shanoa a snide grin when he finished.
"You're going to regret ever laying a finger on me," he said and threw away the now empty vial. Joseph retrieved his sword and held the edge of the blade against the side of Shanoa's neck, but the warrior paid little attention to him. Her eyes were fixed on Sorin as he tied Laura's hands behind her back.
The jeweler found her gaze again and Shanoa's heart nearly broke at the silent, desperate plea reflected in Laura's eyes. Shanoa tried to put on an air of confidence, but fear had begun to churn in the pit of her stomach as she assessed their predicament. They were outnumbered, bound, and had no weapons at their disposal. If she had her Glyphs everything would be different, but as it was their situation was dire. Shanoa could only watch as Sorin gagged Laura with a strip of cloth.
Anton had removed the blade from Martin's shoulder and bandaged the wound. He then handed the bloody hunting knife to Sorin. The bandit leader wiped the blade on his pant leg as his two accomplices each took hold of Laura's arms. Sorin turned towards Shanoa with a wicked smile on his face.
"You have caused more trouble than I anticipated, my dear, and I think you deserve some sort of punishment for your actions." He wagged his finger at the warrior. "However, I get the distinct impression that you're accustomed to physical pain. Normally that would complicate things, but I doubt your friend is as resilient." Sorin's words snapped something inside of her. She recognized his intent, and Shanoa was overwhelmed with the determination to stop these men no matter what the cost.
"No!" She lurched forward. The sword against the side of her throat cut into her flesh, but she did not feel any pain. She just needed to act.
The warrior cried out as a hand fisted in her long hair and wrenched her backwards. Joseph dragged her down to the ground; the violent move ripped some of Shanoa's hair out. She squirmed as she felt drops of blood dribble down her neck and the back of her head.
"Where do you think you're going?" Joseph asked. "You're going to miss all the fun." He pushed Shanoa onto her stomach and knelt on top of her back to keep the struggling woman in place. Joseph's left hand remained fisted in her hair and he forced Shanoa to hold her head up. She watched as Sorin leered over Laura. The bandit twiddled the hunting knife in his fingers.
"Give me a woman over a girl any day." He snickered as he eyed the jeweler's chest. "It's just too bad that things had to turn out this way. Under different circumstances we might have gotten along just fine."
Shanoa tried to hurl a protest, but Joseph's weight forced the air from her chest. The knife caught a ray of sunlight and glistened as Sorin gripped the front of Laura's shirt. The jeweler's eyes widened in terror as he sliced through the cloth. When he was finished, Sorin pulled back the destroyed garment and studied her exposed skin.
"The chest is always a good canvas to start with. Any suggestions on what I should carve here?" he asked his companions. Laura shook her head and tried to back away, but the bandits held her in place.
"Your name would be a nice choice," Anton said. "At least she won't forget it."
"No, it's too cliché." Sorin waved his hand.
They argued as Shanoa struggled in vain against her captor. She had to do something, but she lacked the means to do anything. The warrior closed her eyes as bile rose in her throat.
She had failed again.
She could fight, she could bleed, she could scream until her lungs gave out, but what good would that do? Shanoa had lost her Glyphs, and now the very Blade that had slain Dracula was powerless against ordinary men. What good was she as a warrior if she couldn't even protect the ones she cared about?
Nothing mattered – Shanoa realized – if she lacked the means to fight for what she loved. Laura had held her in her weakest moments, had remained strong when she cried in anguish amidst the howling rain, but now all Shanoa could do in return was beg. Too many lives had been lost because of her, and she would not let it happen again!
The warrior lost all sense of herself under the surge of conviction. She did not fight for personal gain or out of selfish desires. She fought to save the innocent from the clutches of evil. Shanoa had spent her life in pursuit of the ability to stop men of this ilk, and she would not watch helplessly as another person she loved was ripped away!
Confodere
The word barreled through her mind with such ferocity that she almost blacked out under the sheer force of it.
"And now you see: absorb a Glyph, and you shall know its kind. That is your gift; it's yours and yours alone."
Barlowe had fed her so many lies, but those words had been true. These Glyphs were hers.
Vol Confodere Melio Confodere Secare Vol Secare Melio Secare Hasta Vol Hasta Melio Hasta Macir Vol Macir Melio Macir Arcus Vol Arcus Melio Arcus Ascia Vol Ascia Melio Ascia Falcis Vol Falcis Melio Falcis Culter Vol Culter Melio Culter Scutum Vol Scutum Melio Scutum
Her body convulsed as their names flowed through her. Each was inscribed with the intimate knowledge of the forces behind the incantations. She remembered where the Glyphs had originated. She understood the essence they were constructed from. She knew them, and the Glyphs knew her.
"What's wrong with her?"
Shanoa could barely hear the scuffling around her as the bandits' focus shifted from Laura to her writhing form.
Redire Cubus Torpor Lapiste Pneuma Ignis Vol Ignis Grando Vol Grando Fulgur Vol Fulgur Luminatio Vol Luminatio Umbra Vol Umbra Morbus Nitesco Acerbatus Globus Dextro Custos Sinestro Custos
Their power coursed through Shanoa's veins as the Glyphs returned to her. There had been a void inside of her, but now she would be complete again.
Magnes Paries Volaticus Rapidus Fio Vis Fio Fortis Fio Sapiens Fio Fides Fio Felicem Fio Inire Pecunia Arma Felix Arma Chiroptera Arma Machina Refectio Arma Custos Fidelis Caries Fidelis Alate Fidelis Polkir Fidelis Noctua Fidelis Medusa Fidelis Aranea Fidelis Mortus
All but Dominus; the forces that had constructed the Glyph were banished along with their master. The rest were hers. They had always been hers.
Shanoa grinned as her body stilled.
"Ignis," she whispered.
Joseph cried out in surprise as flames erupted in Shanoa's palm and burned through the rope that bound her wrists.
"What the-" He sputtered before he was thrown backwards by a large black force. The bandits looked down at the spot where Shanoa had been not a moment before, but she had disappeared.
"Where did she go?" Sorin asked as he retrieved his gun from its holster. Joseph appeared utterly baffled by what had just transpired. He simply shook his head.
"I don't know! One second she was here and the next-"
A figure descended from the sky and landed on top of Joseph. He didn't even get the chance to scream before Shanoa plunged Melio Secare deep into his chest. The ethereal blade cracked through the bandit's sternum and pierced his heart. Joseph gargled and coughed up blood as he stared into Shanoa's hardened blue eyes. She pushed the sword deeper until he stopped making noise.
Shanoa turned to face his companions. The remaining bandits gaped in awe as they beheld the warrior's new form. Volaticus' black feathered wings had sprouted from her back and flecks of Joseph's blood were splattered on her face; the dark crimson a sharp contrast to her pale skin. Shanoa glowed with a purple aura as she stood before them in all her terrifying glory. She dismissed Melio Secare and the sword broke into hundreds of beads of bright light before they dissipated into thin air. Her wings flexed as Shanoa walked towards her aggressors.
"Who's next?" she asked.
Sorin was the first bandit to break out of his stupor and he pointed his gun at the warrior. Before he could pull the trigger there was a strong rush of wind and Shanoa disappeared once again. The bandits immediately succumbed to confused panic. Their eyes darted about the clearing in a frantic search for the elusive woman.
"She's a witch! She's a goddamn witch!" Martin shrieked.
"Quiet!" Sorin tried to get control of his men, but they did not obey.
"This is bullshit!" Anton trembled with fear. "She never told us that one of them was a witch!" Sorin growled at him.
"I said-" A giant fist of cemented boulders pummeled into his torso. Sorin cried out as he was hurled across the clearing and crashed into a tree trunk with a sickening thud. The gun dislodged from his hand and flew into the dense underbrush. Sorin's lackeys were too stupefied by the surprise attack to notice the whirlwind that rushed up behind them.
Anton cried out as Shanoa plunged Melio Secare into the small of his back; the bloody tip of the sword protruded from his abdomen. The two bandits stared down at the weapon in shock before Shanoa pushed Anton off the blade with her foot. He crumpled lifeless to the ground.
Martin stared wide-eyed at his fallen comrade as blood gushed out of the hole in Anton's torso. His eyes cut to Shanoa and he tried to back away, but the warrior did not allow him to make much progress. She extended her left hand as she summoned Dextro Custos.
Cerberus' white head emerged from her outstretched arm as if it was a physical extension of her own flesh. The hound bared its fangs and snarled; its open maw hungry for prey. Martin raised his arms in an attempt to shield himself from the beast, but Cerberus was too fast. The hound caught his head in its mouth and its long canine teeth sunk into Martin's scalp and jaw. Shanoa did not dismiss the Glyph. Cerberus squeezed its jaw tighter and tighter until there was an audible crunch. Martin's body went limp and Shanoa allowed the hound to dissipate.
The warrior didn't bother to spare the mauled body a second glance. Her attention honed in on Sorin. The bandit leader was slumped at the bottom of the tree. He appeared dazed, but cognizant. Sorin quaked in fear as he watched the winged Blade stalk towards him. Shanoa clicked her tongue in disapproval.
"Do not cower in the face of death," she said. The tattoos on her arms glowed in anticipation. "Meet me head on. Then perhaps you will die with at least a modicum of dignity." Sorin shook his head and forced himself to his feet. The bandit turned his back on Shanoa as he attempted to flee.
Shanoa summoned Melio Arcus. She targeted the fleeing bandit and the bowstring pulled taut with a mere wave of her hand. Sorin was able to sprint for a few meters before the string released. The arrow struck true and pierced the base of his neck.
Sorin staggered and stopped in his tracks. He turned to face Shanoa and she saw the arrowhead protruding from his jugular. The bandit clawed at the projectile. She watched him flail in shock for a few moments before she dismissed the Glyph. Both the arrow and bow dissipated at her command and Sorin sputtered as blood squirted out of his ruptured artery. Sorin joined his companions as he collapsed to the forest floor.
Shanoa did not wait for him to hit the dirt before she turned and rushed to Laura's side. The jeweler had been forced to the ground in the scuffle and lay sprawled in the middle of the clearing. Shanoa cast off Volaticus; the black feathers shed from the wings in layers before they too were turned back into the pure energy from which all Glyphs were formed. Laura's shirt had been ripped to shreds, but the rest of her clothes remained intact. Fear churned in Shanoa's stomach as she knelt over her friend and noted that the jeweler's face and torso were covered in blood.
"Oh God." She went to remove the gag, but froze when she saw the look in Laura's eyes. She stared up at Shanoa's blood-stained visage in a mixture of awe and, predominately, fear. The warrior's chest tightened and she reached out to cup Laura's face, but the jeweler jerked away from Shanoa's hand.
Is she afraid of me?
"It's ok," Shanoa said. "Everything's all right, Laura, it's just me." The warrior's expression softened and she tried to wipe off some of the blood on her face. "It's just me," she repeated in a soothing tone.
Tears welled up in Laura's eyes as Shanoa tried again to remove the gag. This time the jeweler did not flinch. She gasped for air once Shanoa had disposed of the cloth and Laura trembled as the warrior helped her sit upright.
"Did they hurt you?" Shanoa asked with a healthy dose of concern. The blood splatter made it difficult to see if she had been injured.
"No, that's not my blood." Laura's voice cracked as she spoke. "Get this damn rope off of me." Shanoa summoned Culter and used the knife to cut her binding. Laura leaned forward once she had been freed and rubbed her wrists. There were red indentations where the rope had dug into her skin. "I'm sorry." Laura shuddered. "I was unarmed and I should have… I should have run or…"
"Laura-"
"Instead I made you…" The jeweler turned her head towards Shanoa, but did not seek to meet the warrior's concerned gaze. A few tears ran down her cheeks as her lower lip trembled. Shanoa was confused for a moment before she realized what Laura was apologizing for.
The jeweler felt responsible for what had just transpired. Laura brimmed with unmistakable guilt. Shanoa cupped the other woman's face with both hands and forced her friend to look her in the eyes.
"You did nothing wrong," Shanoa said in a strong, steady voice. "I acted of my own volition. You do not need to shoulder the weight of it."
"I made you kill-" Shanoa pressed a finger to Laura's lips.
"They are my actions, not yours," she said. Laura gulped and squeezed her eyes shut, but nodded. Shanoa pulled her into a tight embrace that the jeweler returned immediately. Laura clung to the warrior as she held the shaking woman. "You're safe now."
They knelt in silence amidst the carnage. Laura sobbed a few times, but did not outright cry. Something strange and vaguely familiar sparked inside of Shanoa as she supported the woman in her arms. It was the same feeling she'd had when she woke up in bed next to Laura the day of the thunderstorm. It was an echo of a truth that she hadn't been able to name.
She reached out to caress the jeweler's face, but Shanoa caught herself before she could make contact. Her hand trembled in the air as a strange feeling washed over her.
'I want… something…'
What did she want? Something clawed within her now; something awakened by the realization that, in every sense of the word, this woman was the most beautiful person she'd ever seen. A sudden wish for something unidentifiable that rested in the tips of her fingers as they reached out to close the distance between them.
'A wish for what?'
Shanoa's breath caught in her chest.
… She would not watch helplessly as another person she loved was ripped away!
She felt that spark ignite something deep within her. The identity of the kindling rested on the fringe of her mind, but Shanoa was too shocked to acknowledge what it was. Because such a thing was not only impossible, it was completely and utterly inconceivable.
Another person I love…
She loved Laura.
The realization almost made her keel over. She loved this woman, but it wasn't the same kind of love that she had for Albus. A different breed of affection, yet it was strong enough to elicit the power to reclaim her Glyphs. So what kind of love was this?
Laura sniffed and began to pull away. Shanoa forced the question from her mind so she could focus on the matter at hand. There would be time to ponder this development later.
"Do you have more clothes in your pack?" Shanoa asked. Laura nodded. "We should find you another shirt and then get the hell out of here." The warrior shifted as she made to stand up.
"Shanoa…" The sound of her name gave her pause.
"Yes?" She turned and her eyes locked with Laura's.
"Thank you," the jeweler said. The knot in Shanoa's chest unraveled at the sight of genuine gratitude and relief in Laura's expression. The warrior allowed herself a brief moment of pride.
She hadn't failed.
IXI
The woman kept to her perch amongst the branches of the thick, old tree as the pair moved below her. As per usual, they remained unaware of her presence as the vain gypsy re-dressed and the Blade gathered their gear. She waited patiently for the two women to leave the clearing and head back to the mountain trail. Once they were gone she dropped out of the tree and landed gracefully next to the body of the now-deceased bandit leader.
She turned his corpse over with her foot and bent down to retrieve a small pouch that was tied to his belt. There was a loud jingle of coins as she ripped it away. The bandits had carried out their job as instructed, but dead men had no use for gold.
The ouroboros devoured her glee.
The Blade was sharp again. Of course, Shanoa had required some amount of prodding, but despite the risks things had worked out amicably. It could have taken ages for such an encouraging situation to develop on its own. Shanoa could not summon Glyphs without the proper conviction: she needed a reason to fight.
That reason – the woman assumed – had always been the pursuit of Dracula's demise, but Shanoa had succeeded in her life-long task. With that purpose gone she had needed to spur the young warrior to find another.
She glanced at the spot where the pair had huddled on the ground after the battle. Her initial suspicions had been correct. Unexpected, yes, but it provided her with an almost unfair advantage.
The wheel of fate had been set in motion. All she needed to do was wait and everything would fall into place. She did not know how long it would take, but that hardly mattered. With the aide of the ouroboros she could wait forever.
Additional notes: same technical changes as previous chapters. I don't need to go over those again, but there are a few important points I want to make regarding this chapter in particular.
First, when I write scenes that contain violence I try not to gloss over the gruesome realities said violence entails. If a character is cut I include blood, if someone suffers a broken bone I describe any physical distortion. It's not just that it brings into focus the intensity of a scene, but there's a tendency in media to portray violence as being, well, non-violent. Superhero movies are a common example of this where characters (and many extras) die violent, but bloodless, deaths that are immediately ignored as we get back to the action. It creates this subtle message that violence is not as gruesome as reality dictates. I don't want to send that message. My writing may be graphic, but I want to present the severity of the fact that people are dying. Besides, most – if not all – of Shanoa's Glyphs would cause some ugly wounds.
Second, I included a better examination of what went through Shanoa's mind right before she reclaimed her Glyphs. My writing got sloppy in the original version, but it's a key turning point for her character. This is the first time Shanoa really understands what motivates her to fight. She doesn't crave power for the sake of having power. She doesn't gloat about the fact that she basically killed a god. Shanoa just wants to protect people, because that's what makes her feel like she matters. She's just been dubious of this fact until now.
Third (and most important), I kept coming back to this scene with the bandits long after I posted the original version. Something didn't feel right about it, but the intended-rape scenario had been set in my mind for so long I decided to stick with it. It wasn't until a guest reviewer commented that Shanoa's subsequent character development in the next few chapters contradicted what she knew at this point in the story that I realized what irked me. In fact, the wish to edit this chapter is the reason why I began the re-writing process in the first place.
The presence of a very real threat was necessary to spur Shanoa to action, but the attempted rape was not. In the end not much had to be altered, but it makes a huge difference. It's an example of how much I've changed as a person since I first conceived this story. Four years ago I did not see an issue with the "sexual assault as plot development" device. Now, however, I'm disgusted by it. It's relieving to finally go back and revise this scene.
In conclusion, this chapter does a good job at highlighting the flaws in first drafts and the need for external input. This is a solo project, and will probably remain so, but that robs me of outside opinions until I post a chapter. The only sounding board I have are reviews and that means I sometimes won't be able to identify what does/doesn't work in this story until after it goes public. I doubt this will be the last time I revisit and revise this novel-length beast I have going, but it gets better each time. I can live with that.