A/N: Hey sorry for the long pause between chapters here. Want to say thanks again to everyone for taking the time to read my material. Okay from this point forward I am mainly following three perspectives. I hope what I have written is not too confusing, but if you have troubles following along Let me know and I will work on an edit. Thanks again! (page-breaks/ ***** represent change in POV)
We All Start Somewhere
"Who are you!?"
Her tone was as sharp and as lethal as the blade she held to Vincent's throat. The tip of the sword graced the edged of his flesh drawing the smallest trickle of blood down his neck.
Miria's patience wore thin as she pushed the edge deeper, forcing the old man to back pedal. She had trusted her life and the lives of all her sisters to this man. The trust she had so carelessly lent, was now betrayed.
She was unsure if she was more enraged at the sinister evil that Vincent represented or that she was so blind to be unaware of it for so long. The former number six no longer had any reason to trust him, perhaps killing him now would be the easiest answer. But questions still had to be answered first.
"I won't ask again." Miria growled, pushing the sword forward, pinning Vincent to the wall.
"Now, I am a servant, nothing else." Vincent replied without fear.
"More." Miria shot back.
"It began differently." Vincent relaxed a little as the blade retreated barely enough for him to utter the words. "You know...You, I, Ermita... We were all supposed to be guardians."
"We were, that's what we did. That's what we did before you sent me and all my sisters to that frozen hell hole to die!" Miria roared.
"No. You and I were meant for greater...there is a much larger task set before us than the Yoma." Vincent explained, choosing his words carefully. "And that is when I left, that is when I lost heart for our dreams, for they had turned into nightmares."
"You're going to have to do better than this!" Miria's patience was obviously waning.
"Very well." Vincent sighed deeply. "Our mission was to create a power that could rival something beyond human scope. A warrior, that could fight a monster that threatened our very existence."
"I thought they were only rumors." Miria's throat dried in disbelief.
"I am afraid not. That is what we sought to create." Vincent gently moved Miria's claymore from his neck. "We had measurable success at first, but it was simply not enough." The old man's knees slowly folded as he sat down, his back leaning against the wall. "We were running out of options, so naturally we turned to something we didn't fully understand, not appreciating the gravity of what could result from such nearsightedness." Vincent began to shake his head.
"We were all just cattle to you!?" Miria's rage grew with her voice. "Just experiments!? We were children for Christ sake! And you ripped out our flesh and soul and left nothing but a monster inside!"
"And that's when I left, I tried to stop them, but they refused." Vincent shot back quickly.
"No! Damn you, and your empathy!" Miria again raised her blade to his throat.
"I stole a couple of you away in my exodus, but that hardly atones for my actions. And now for the last one hundred years I have tried to help those that I can here, in this place."
"You can't atone for something like this!" Miria's arm began to shake as an overwhelming flood of sorrow and anguish wrecked her mind.
"I know. Early on I contemplated suicide but death for me would only be an easy way out. A half measure for the sins I had committed."
"You're fucking right about that. I pray your days are long on these lands." Miria returned, her tone laced with venom.
"I pray for the same fate." Vincent stated in full agreement.
Miria slammed her claymore into the ground, forcing it through stone and earth. She couldn't let him slip away from death, he owed too much. She headed for the door kicking it open. Vincent finally looked up from the ground wondering where she was going.
A loud crash and more slamming echoed through the stone halls of the chapel before Miria arrived at his door again, carrying an entire pew.
She carelessly maneuvered through the door and slammed the wood furniture to the ground. The raged captain nonchalantly kicked his desk which rest between her new seat and Vincent. It crashed against the adjacent wall as if it were a mere toy to her.
Miria took a moment to compose herself as she calmly dusted off her seat and cross her legs sitting before the old man.
"You are going to tell me everything." She stated as she pulled out a flask, handing it to the priest.
He obliged without remorse as he took a seat next to her on the pew.
"It was a long time ago when we started." Vincent took a drink as he began to recollect. "We knew that mistakes and failures were going to occur, we just never imagined, or rather, I never thought they would be so damning."
"What did this...What did we start as?" Miria questioned as her tone began to retreat.
"Experiments. We are all experiments. At first we experimented on ourselves and men, then we moved to you. Our methods were different though, we tried to evoke a power within ourselves using strange medicinals." Vincent handed the flask to Miria, who kindly declined. "It came with little or no success. And the failures began to mount and time scraped on as many died on the mainlands to the north. throwing their lives fruitlessly to the dragon's kin."
"We did not ask to be a part of a war that is many miles from us. So why! Why did you enact your cruelty upon us?" Miria pressed her question.
"This war, will soon be upon this land. We are simply at the rear of the battle lines, hidden away on this tiny island." Vincent justified. "And unfortunately both sides have equal resolve, to kill until there is nothing left." Vincent took another swig before his gaze returned to the ground beneath him. "This little island of horrors. That's what this is you know?" He chuckled lightly, reflecting on the past. "We have gone so far from our goal, now we are just creating monsters to kill the monster that we mistakenly loosed upon this land...It is a sick cycle."
"You still have been very vague about everything, I need to know every detail." Miria stated sternly.
Vincent laughed as he again took another shot. "You are just like my brother, you seek answers when there is nothing to be gained or had from it. You know all that you need to, the specifics make no difference here. We have wasted our time here in this thresher, this clockwork of insanity."
A morbid realization sat down on Miria's heart as she looked at the old man. "No! No! No! You mean to tell me that this, my whole life, was a clean up effort of past mistakes! That all my training and bloodshed was to further a cause that is for nothing!" Miria's temper erupted and in a rage she stood to her feet and with a single punch she created a new window in Vincent's room.
Her heart was racing and her breath was rapid and uncontrolled as the leader of the ghosts continued to fume. "How could you do this to us!? How could you torment and disfigure our souls!? And for what!?" Miria again took another swing at the wall punching out another sizable hole. "To help kill all the fuck ups you created, and then...and then to only turn and kill each other!?"
"I wish I could tell you different, that there was a higher calling or a just reason, but it's not so."
Miria fought the ever increasing urge to slay Vincent right where he sat. He deserved worse, but at the moment that was all she could offer him. It would be a just kill and the Claymore would go to lengths to make sure he suffered.
But as much as she would like to bleed this monster dry, she couldn't. There was nothing to gain from his death. She glared at him wondering how to make use of this broken devil and then the obvious question arrived to the front of her mind. It was the only hope, the only power that she could think of to finally stop the endless cycle of death.
"What about Clare." Miria asked, grabbing the old man by his collar.
"What about her?" He mumbled.
"You witnessed that same power too!" Miria again screamed at the priest.
"Yes but-"
"You said that power is within us all...Show me!" Miria demanded.
"You must ask yourself one question." Vincent shot back. "Do you believe?"
"Do I believe in what?" Miria snapped.
It had been nine days, and she was grateful that she could remember those. But the young woman again stared at the woman looking back at her in the still water beneath. It was as if this woman in the reflection of the pond was a thief of her own mind. The brunette had stood motionless at the edge of the water like this everyday, searching for hours at a time. She had carefully studied every curve, every dimple, and every flaw that this woman possessed, but still nothing. She did not know herself.
"Tell me who your are." She said plainly at her reflection.
"Who are you talking to?" Catherine asked as she made her way to the distressed woman.
"Whoever I am...whoever this woman is that stares back at me." She pointed at the pond with a frustrated finger.
"It will come back." Catherine placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Come on, help me with these carrots."
The two weaved their way through the short brush that lead up to the small and cozy cabin only a moments walk away.
The walls were built of smooth and treated cedar and adorned with simple but beautiful engravings. The interior was a similar reflection of its outer components. The wood emitted a warm glow from the fireplace's light. The warmth seemed to wrap around everything within the cabin and the many glass stones, although crude, made the light dance around the entire space. It was a scene that could take your mind somewhere else, somewhere off this island.
The furnishings found their place somewhere between simple and functional. And such was their owners intent, to be used and to be reliable. But that did not sway visitors from taking a seat in this welcoming home.
"I was beginning to think I'd have to do without the carrots." Olivia teased as the two entered the cabin.
"If only to save them from that butchery you call cooking." Catherine shot back with a smile as she set the orange vegetables next to Olivia.
"Ah, you two are back." Hector greeted with a warm smile as he entered from his study. "Anything today?"
The brunette shook her head "I'm afraid I never will."
"I've been thinking just about as much as you have and I may know a way to help you." Hector stated in excitement as he gathered a handful of object from around the room.
"What are you doing, those are not toys, be careful!" Olivia cautioned strongly, noting most of the objects were fragile.
"Now, up until this point you have been looking for something to remember, and I believe there are other ways for you to recall." Hector gleefully explained as he lit his tobacco pipe. "Close you eyes for me."
"Okay, but I don't understand, what I am doing?"
"Trust me, please hold out both hands." Hector asked kindly as he placed a cup of wine in her hands. "Now, what are you holding?"
"A cup." She replied back, still confused.
"Without looking, please, take a drink." He instructed, watching the woman's face very carefully as she tipped the vessel back. "What do you think?"
"It's a very poor wine." Her face grimaced as she finally opened her eyes, setting the cup down.
"That maybe true," Hector chuckled, "But you know what you just did?"
"Not particularly." She again responded with equal confusion.
"You just remembered. Not with eyes, but by the taste and feel of a cup of wine." Hector smiled widely at her memory, and his own personal success in evoking her mind to recall.
"But I still don't know my name." She shot back quickly, hoping he knew another method to help her remember.
"We will take it one step at a time. Now, please close your eyes again." Hector instructed, placing a writing quill flatly in her palm. "What are you holding?"
"A feather." She responded drawing in a deep breath.
"This is not an ordinary feather." Hector stated as he watched her finger searching the object. "It is used to write. do you know how to read and write?"
"I don't know...I can't remember." Her voice climbed with frustration.
"Don't move! stay as you are!" Hector whispered in excitement. "Very slowly open your eyes."
"What is wrong?" She asked in genuine concern as she looked around the room.
"Look at your hand! You are holding the quill, as if ready to pen a word." Hector again whispered in a hushed joy. "Your body has not forgotten who you are!"
A chill coiled up her spine as she stared at her hand. She was frozen with both fear and joy. Just like her reflection in the pond, she was of two different but equally same versions of herself. She was being held hostage by her mind that refused to tell the story of her life.
"So we know that you have some measure of education, you are not so humble a peasant as we." Hector laughed deeply, taking the feather and again asking her to close her eyes. "How about this one?"
A look of unease grew upon Hector's face as he watched this woman slowly search the object in her hand. It was an older and almost harmless tool, but he was a little hesitant for her safety as she moved her fingers across the tip.
But his unease quickly accelerated into a morbid concern. A trace of sweat grew upon his brow and his throat became dry as he watched this woman. He wasn't afraid anymore that she might accidentally cut herself along the sharp edge. No, the longer he watched this woman the more he knew something was terribly wrong. Her knuckles became white as they tightly wrapped around the grip revealing their familiarity with such tools. He was now afraid that this woman was more lethal than the weapon in her hand.
"Open your eyes." Hector said calmly, clearing his throat.
She did as told seeing the knife in her hand. Her wrist turned and danced the tip of the blade with an elegance and precision she herself was afraid of. She dropped the knife letting the metal blade clang against the floor.
"So you also know how to clean the beasts. Perhaps you had to spend time cutting a swine or a pheasant." Hector diverted as best he could, but they both knew her technique was rather refined for a butcher of pigs and animals.
"Have you talked to Celina?" Olivia did her best to break the dreadful silence.
"Celina?" The brunette asked genuinely
"Oh yes! Let's hurry over there before it becomes too late." Hector stood as he offered the woman an assistant hand. "She is the eldest in our little hamlet, the old bird may be able to help with names of folks from around here."
"Hector!" Olivia yelled, "That 'old bird' has done so much for all the families around here."
"It was joke." Hector stated as the two made their way out of the front door.
The room was officially called a study, but it resembled more of the labs of a madman. Torturous and strange devices adorned the cramped walls and poorly kept papers littered every other surface in the room. A small single southern facing window provided no direct sunlight, only a dim glow from the sun's daily passing. If dread and insanity were the desired effect, he had definitely hit the mark.
The heavy iron crossed door swung open slowly creaking and groaning as it ground against its hinges. "I hear you have been working on a most peculiar project." Ermita stated as he held the door open.
"Does no one knock before entering anymore?" Dae growled as he continued to remain focused on the papers before him.
"Yes, well nevertheless," Ermita shrugged. "I heard rumor that you are trying to resurrect the dead. That you are working to steal back from Death what it had rightfully taken."
"And since when do you give credence to rumors?" Dae shot back jokingly.
"Ever since they involved you." Ermita retaliated in kind. "I have a something for you."
Two orderlies entered behind Ermita carrying a body. To his instruction the two set the corpse on the table before Dae and Ermita and left the study without words.
"What do you see before you?" Ermita questioned as he ushered Dae before the deceased.
"A dead man." Dae stated plainly, a little annoyed at Ermita's games.
"Yes, but several days ago I witnessed the most awesome and terrifying display of power, the likes I had never seen before."
"You were there!?" Dae's attention peaked. "I was only able to see that light out of Rabona from here."
"It was her...Clare." Ermita said in a hushed whisper.
"Then why did you not bring me her instead." Dae protested gesturing to the dead man.
"Because he is the key, he brought forth that power within her. There is something more to this man, the answer to that power is right here before us." Ermita challenged, pointing to Raki's body upon the table.
Somewhere deep inside that dead husk of a man a few sparks of life bounced around in his mind. Raki found himself standing next to the water side of Emerald Lake just on the east side of the place he called home. The lake itself was more of a large pond, but that made little difference to a kid of twelve years of age. The depth was little more than ten feet at its lowest, and that's why it was named Emerald lake. The water glowed green as the morning sunlight bounced off its calm surface. It was perfect, and that is exactly how Raki remembered it. All sorts of warm memories flooded his mind as he gazed at the still and beautiful water before him.
And then he saw him standing at the edge of the pier as they had so many times before. It was Zaki. He was casting his rod into the waters, fishing for blue gill.
Raki's heart began to race as he made his way down the old wooden pier. He remembered being out here all the time. Raki was never great at casting and reeling them in. But that didn't stop him from trying his best everyday to out catch Zaki.
They would set out some mornings and take the short walk the lakes edge and begin casting where they pleased, slowly making their way towards the pier by their journey's end. Raki could wrestle a few here and there, but nothing like Zaki. By day's end his older brother would have filled an entire bucket of crappie and blue gills. And that was fine with him, because as much as Zaki could catch, he couldn't clean or cook them for shit. And that is when Raki got to be the bigger brother for a change. He got the rare chance to show and teach his older sibling.
He would try his best to teach Zaki and show him how to make food out of his fish. But like Raki's inability to catch like his older brother, he couldn't get Zaki to cook like himself. And that is what he remembered. They were brothers, relying on each other, helping each other where they were lacking.
But something was off, Raki looked at his own reflection as he slowly walked down the pier. He saw himself as he was today, a man of twenty years, so it was as if Raki was the older brother now, and Zaki still only fourteen.
His steps were slow as the wood creaked and groaned with each step. He wanted to run towards his brother and hug him, but for some reason he could only walk. Each step felt like a track towards home, a pace in the right direction, like everything else was fading into the background.
Raki wanted to yell his brother's name but he found himself unable to speak as he finally set his hand upon Zaki's shoulder.
The kid turned around and searched Raki's face with his eyes. It was as if there was a small moment of hesitation, like Zaki was unable to recognize the man that stood before him, but in an instant that confusion vanished and Raki saw his older brother smiling at him.
It was like coming home from a long trip. He knew he was in the right place, he knew with each passing moment that this is where he belonged. And he realized that was what he had been searching for all these years. It was that sense of belonging, and he found it right here at this lake.
But then a sharp metallic clang snapped his neck towards the other end of the pier. A black shroud crawled and creeped over her body concealing her, but he knew this woman all too well. Her eyes glowed with a fury and hate that he had tried to sequester for so long.
Even now with the distance between them Raki could feel the putrid hate that twisted and swirled around her being, infecting everything around her. It scarred and burned with a lowly malice that chewed away at what little remained of him.
This demon before him, this monster, raised her giant blade towards them now, ready to strike. Raki quickly glanced back at his younger brother and moved the kid behind him, putting himself between his brother and this witch.
And without pause she quickly raced down the pier slashing wildly at the wooded beams that held the flimsy structure together. She recklessly swung her blade sending fragments and splinters of wood in every direction as she closed the gap.
"No." Raki growled lowly as he took one step forward meeting her head on.