Here we go, another chapter to soothe your wrath of me not posting regularly... As always, translations for Italian conversations are at the end of the chapter. Enjoy! =)
WARNING! THERE WILL BE TORTURE-ISH STUFF! DON'T READ IF YOU DON'T LIKE!
ooOoOoo
Erskine left the children in Noah's care who was currently instructing the kids to draw warding sigils onto the walls and the floor of the lobby. He did not ask how he had managed to have them comply or why he knew how exactly to draw the glyphs. Neither did he question the fact that Noah only nodded at him in thanks when he dropped the two boys onto one of the sofas. No questions were asked; he wouldn't even make him proof he was on their side. He had probably recognised him from when he had arrived with the others. Ravel decided, not to dwell on that. Important was, that the receptionist took control over the shield and Saracen and Dexter would be released from their predicament.
"All set! Mr. Mage, please tell Mr. Rue and Mr. Vex to nullify the … symbols on their hands. We take over from here."
Ravel nodded and turned, hastening outside again where his friends were just struggling on their feet again. Although, obviously in pain, they seemed to have found some new sort of motivation to fight.
"The mortal has got it under control!" he shouted, taking the three steps in one leap and covering the last few meters in a sprint.
Immediately, Dexter gripped Saracen's hand and dragged the dagger he had managed to hold on to, over the sigil, cutting deeply. The reaction was instantaneous. The shadows dissipated as quickly as they had appeared and once he sliced through Dexter's sigil the icy tendrils vanished and took the agony with them. Only the wounds inflicted remained, weeping gashes and cuts all over their bodies. It didn't bother them all too much. There were bigger fish to fry.
"Much better", Saracen winced with a relieved smile. He wiped the beads of sweat off of his brow and turned to his husband. "Shall we?"
Dexter nodded, still panting. He offered Saracen a hand and pulled him to his feet. "Do you know where she is?"
"At the back of the building."
Ravel raised a curious eyebrow, frowning at his friends breaking into a shaky run. "What is going on?" he shouted after them.
"We'll explain later!" Saracen's voice trailed back at him.
Erskine shrugged. "I guess I will help the others then."
Lagrima regretted her decision to go after Ciardha on her own the second she stepped outside the hotel and cleared the protective energy shield. Logic would have called to stay inside and attack with electricity but the girl's magical reserves were nearly depleted and she was forced to engage in hand-to-hand combat. An odd calm washed over her, settling in. Lagrima knew she stood no chance against Ciardha and could at best tickle her with the puny knife she had still strapped to her thigh. Protective clothing and immediate regeneration skills made the Necromancer untouchable. But her goal was set on distracting Ciardha from the shield and have her focus her attention on her and her alone. For as long as possible – the outcome or her fate was of no importance.
Since Ciardha already knew she would be getting company, Lagrima made no effort to hide her presence as she walked down the two steps from the hotel, stopping at the bottom.
Only a few feet away from her stood the Necromancer who was about to command another shadow spear to attack the weakened shield. When Lagrima started walking towards her, a grin spread over her face and she adopted a fighting stance, forgetting about the shield for the moment. This was far more fun, especially with her opponent looking as though she might break down any second now: Lagrima was pale, had a feverish air about her and although she attempted a confident strut, it was clear she was not at the peak of her strength.
She is tough, Ciardha had to give her that much. Of course she knew why Lagrima was keen on challenging her: she wanted to stall. Ciardha smirked – she was able to stall as well. Leontion Drawn would be taking care of the shield while she had all the time in the world to stall Lagrima's death.
Lagrima reached behind her and under her armoured leather jacket, drawing a knife from a scabbard she liked to keep on the small of her back. The weapon was double-edged, narrow and had a small symbol carved into the metal near the hilt which was wrapped in black leather strips. The sunlight of the late afternoon reflected in the old yet polished blade, hiding the one or other notch and scratch it sported.
And then she attacked.
Darting forward, Lagrima switched the knife to her left hand and jabbed it at Ciardha's right side, just below her risen elbow. Like this, the Necromancer had to either order a shadow or lower her arm completely to block. Or she went for the mad defence and let herself be stabbed.
Lagrima knew she had less than fractions of a second to react accordingly which was why the kind of defence was irrelevant to her. She had drawn her other arm back with the slightest delay to the stabbing motion and was now snapping her hip forward, bringing her right arm in for a punch against the temple.
Ciardha blocked the knife with shadows and raised her arm minimally so Lagrima's fist scraped uselessly against her wrist. She curled her fingers and went for a throat jab. Lagrima bent her upper body back enough so it would miss and grabbed the Necromancer's wrist with her hand. Pulling, the girl tried to gain some sort of leverage as she took a quick step and half-turning clutched Ciardha's offending arm between her ribs and forearm. Raising her arm, she smacked the elbow into Ciardha's face and leaped free.
The two women circled each other, waiting, assessing. Lagrima's senses were sharpened to a shattering degree. She was painfully aware that Ciardha wouldn't have to move at all in order to control the darkness so when the girl ducked to the side and rolled over the floor it was more of a hunch than actual certainty of something coming.
The spear dug into the tar just where she had been standing.
"I am impressed", Ciardha said in a soft, calming voice.
"Good for you." Lagrima knew she couldn't get distracted by conversation or else she would never see or rather guess the shadow-weapons coming. She flipped the knife in her hand so she was gripping it in reversed fashion. Two quick paces and she was onto Ciardha, slicing from right to left across her chest. The Necromancer blocked with her arm before the blade touched her body and her fist collided with Lagrima's solarplexus.
The girl gasped breathlessly and doubled over. Her shirt had absorbed most of the blow's power but couldn't completely protect her from the force. Ciardha pulled her into an upright position again and headbutted her.
Lagrima staggered back, clutching her nose. Although it was not broken, the pain was immense and tears flooded her eyes but she blinked them away, raising the knife again. A grim expression had worked itself onto her features and her focus was on the smirking Necromancer before her. She was taunting her, playing with her – Ciardha could have finished her off within twenty seconds if she truly wanted to and she knew it. And she knew that Lagrima knew. Her grin grew wider and she swaggered towards the girl.
Suddenly two tendrils lashed out at her. Lagrima deflected the shades with her knife and danced to the left which she realized too late had been Ciardha's intention. A hammer of darkness met the girl and she was sent careening back, landing hard.
Coughing, Lagrima fought to her feet again and attacked anew. No pause. No distractions, she thought as she stabbed at Ciardha's throat. The Necromancer swatted her hand aside and attempted to come in with a punch of her own. Lagrima leaped to the left, driving the arm further away from her and was now standing at Ciardha's side. She moved in with a kick to the knee which had her opponent grunt with pain and shadow knives darted out at her. The girl deflected two with the blade, avoided another three by ducking and leaping but two found their mark. One thudded uselessly against her leg, the other graced her cheek a bit too narrowly for her taste and she could feel the blood start to trickle down her jaw and neck.
Lagrima cried out as her shirt rucked up with the movement and two knives smacked into her left side. She staggered back until she reached the fence of the parking lot, sagging against it.
"Cazzo!" she hissed and curled her fingers into the cold wire-netting. Her breaths came in heavy pants and the pain radiated in hot pulsing gusts from the wound site. At first she refused to look down, imploring adrenaline to reign in the pain so she could continue to fight but when the blades inside her felt icy cold, she risked a glance.
Two long light blue icicles protruded from her side. Blood seeped out and started to stain her shirt.
Lagrima looked up and could see a man walk towards them, arms clasped behind his back like professors were prone to do. Where had he come from all of a sudden? Or had he been here all along, offering the fight to Ciardha? If she remembered correctly, this was Leontion Drawn, a mage whose power was to conjure and control water in its three aggregate states. A dangerous talent if you were creative enough to explore its numerous variables. Lagrima hoped he was dull as wood.
Drawn was not smiling and judging by his expression, he rarely did so. From his looks he must have been in his late thirties. Dressed in washed out grey jeans, blue shirt and grey vest, he had the vibe of a banker. The ash blond hair combed back neatly over his scalp didn't particularly help matters.
Lagrima's knees gave out and it took all of her strength to just remain more or less upright. There was not much fighting to be done on the ground.
"Don't tell me you are already giving up?" Ciardha teased condescendingly and waggled a finger into her direction.
Lagrima screamed in pain as shadows moved up under her shirt, slowly dragging sharp edges across her belly. Deep and deeper they cut. Finally, she slid down the fence until she sat curled up against the wire. Clattering the dagger toppled to the ground and Ciardha picked it up, turning and inspecting it.
"Lovely craftsmanship."
"Fottiti¹", Lagrima growled while she was clutching her stomach. The fiery pain set her entire midsection on fire and was travelling fast through her entire body. In her side fire and ice fought for the upper hand and she could feel the icicles with her every movement. And they showed no intention of melting any time soon. This was bad. She had lost her knife and the fight in just under five minutes and with two opponents she couldn't think of fighting back. Instead, she looked up at them defiantly.
"Enough", Drawn said calmly. "Corvo wants her alive and if you keep this up she will have bled out in ten minutes."
"I'll be careful", Ciardha assured him confidently and hunched down to meet Lagrima's eye with a smirk. Holding up the dagger so the girl would see it, she traced her jawline with the sharp blade before plunging it into her shoulder.
Lagrima screamed. This was fine. She was fine. Ciardha still had her attention on her and Drawn was standing a bit further off with arms crossed, a frown on his face. As long as neither of them had the idea of taking the shield down, she was doing her job. Pain was irrelevant, pain went away with time.
"Now, this is a special weapon", Ciardha crooned as she turned the hilt, drawing another scream out of the girl. "Or perhaps you are just not wearing protective clothing." Pulling the dagger extra slowly from her shoulder, Ciardha had shades shatter the icicles and tear into the skin instead.
Sto bene. Sto bene. Posso farcela², Lagrima implored herself as she hissed in pain and clenched her teeth. Soltanto un paio di minuti³. Anger swelled up inside her as she saw Ciardha's smirking face and with a desperate gathering of strength she reared up and punched the Necromancer against the side of her head. Or wanted to.
Ciardha easily blocked the punch and grabbed Lagrima by her jacket and hauled her up, only to throw her into the open space of the parking lot. The girl rolled over the tar and when she came to a halt on her stomach, she didn't get up anymore.
"What are they doing?" Corvo asked, irritated and stole a glance at her watch. "The shield should be destroyed by now. We are losing precious time."
Yedra scanned her surroundings. The Dead Men were still engulfed in an ongoing battle with their toughest soldiers and it seemed like an active stalemate: neither party made any relevant progress in beating their enemies and still fists flew, fire spat and swords rang. The shield was in place as ever and she could see the mortal peaking out of his save hotel. Rue and Vex were nowhere to be seen. Either they had hidden away inside the building or they had gotten rid of their sigils and where attempting to flee with the amulet while everyone was busy fighting. Slowly, a plan began to take form in her mind. Maybe she could …
"Boss, head to the back of the building and meet up with Ciardha and Drawn. Leave the amulet to me", Yedra said and before Corvo could protest the Elemental had already disappeared between the combatants.
Seconds later she stood just outside the energy field, shouting up at Noah who had – against better judgement – risked a glance outside and was regretting it already. Not only were the Dead Men unable to completely take out Corvo's forces, now one of the enemy mages was also trying to soft-talk him. "Oi, Mortal! I want to talk!"
Noah looked down at the woman. She was clad in something resembling combat gear or at least it was what you might see people wear in military films on television: black trousers, black boots and a black T-shirt. It looked badass, Noah had to admit but in his opinion it was highly impractical in a fight. Lagrima had also just gone with T-shirt and leather jacket. Two of the Dead Men wore suits for God's sake! Perhaps they were all insane or maybe fashion was more important than safety?
She can't hurt you. You are save as long as you don't step outside, Noah told himself but drew in a nervous breath anyway. He glanced around to see if anyone was creeping up on him while he was focused on the annoyingly amused mage waiting cross-armed for his reaction. Even though his reason-driven mind screamed at him to head inside and simply ignore the woman, his instincts urged him to stay and listen to what she had to say. Perhaps he could find out more and relay the information to Rue and Vex? Gulping, he looked at the mage.
"I have a deal to offer."
Noah almost sagged with relief; there was no way he would fall for this. A small pitying smile played around his mouth. "It is not for me to strike bargains with sorcerers."
"This time it is."
"I am done talking to you."
"At least listen to what I have to say!"
When Noah turned back around, Yedra had abandoned her condescending air and had raised her arms in a wait-I-didn't-mean-it-like-that-gesture. However, it was the tone of her voice that had made the receptionist stop and nod.
What am I doing?! He was close to panicking. Bargaining with a mage – an enemy mage no less. He was vastly out of his depth.
"My name is Yedra and yes, I am with Corvo. Recently, I have started to become a bit worried about her goals, though."
Yedra. The counterspy.
Noah snorted. "So you are the one who helped Mr. Rue and Mr. Vex escape. What is this? You want me to repay the favour by handing the amulet over? I am afraid I can't and won't do that."
"They told you about it, huh? I can see now why the Dead Men like you and I have to admit I had planned to convince you to just do that but as soon as we started to talk I knew anything but the truth wouldn't work with you."
"Stop flattering me. It is not working."
Yedra actually laughed.
"Why did you help Mr. Rue and Mr. Vex?"
The mage shrugged. "I guess I wanted to wreak some havoc. You know, make the game more interesting. The Dead Men make excellent adversaries and Corvo would have killed Rue and where is the fun in that? Challenging them head-on in a fight seemed far more rewarding."
"And you are still alive? Despite living so recklessly and falling your employers in the back?"
"What the eye does not see, the heart does not grieve over. I am very good at what I do", Yedra replied simply.
"And your prize?" Noah wanted to know. "I understand you are a mercenary, working for the highest bidder and as far as I know, Miss Corvo is the highest bidder. So, I don't really get what's in it for you." Noah couldn't believe himself. Was this really him speaking? Him? Noah, the hotelier with too much love for stories and cozyness? His heart pounded wildly in his chest and he was afraid the mage would see right through his tough mask. It already took all of his willpower not to knead the brim of his waistcoat. Mr. Rue had pointed out this tic and he was working hard to abandon it.
"True, I do work for those who can pay me more handsomely but first and foremost I am loyal to myself. You ask what is in it for me? I am a murderer, hitter, assassin, call me what you like. Killing is part of me and I love every second of it. Don't look so shocked, I have got to have hobbies, too."
"What?" Noah croaked, throat suddenly dry as sand. Why was he not running yet?
Yedra ignored him. "But you see, the thing is, not even I want to see the entire world burn. You know, living in it and everything. And if everyone is dead, who do I get to kill? I actually don't really care who gets to win, all I want is some action."
"You are mad!" Noah said but cringed internally. He felt light-headed and nauseous.
"And I am the best chance at survival you have right now."
Noah bit his lip. "Why should I believe you? You hurt Mr. Rue. I … I have seen what you did to him. All those wounds and cuts and bruises. So much blood. I freaking helped stop the bleeding and save his life!"
"Unfortunate but necessary. Probably. At least that is what the antagonist turned good says at this point in the story, right?" She offered Noah a weak smile. "Listen, I am evil and crooked and a criminal and if you knew what I have done you would faint on the spot but not even I want to be part of Corvo's crusade. It's suicide and I don't do that."
"Antagonist turned good? No, you are evil through and through. How do I know you are not playing me as well and planning on double-crossing me?"
Yedra grinned devilishly. "Now, that you can't know."
"What do you need me for? I am not willing to hand over the amulet since that would be helping Miss Corvo. And by the way, haven't you had enough opportunities to – to get rid of Miss Corvo? I mean, as one of her closest soldiers?"
Laughter bubbled from Yedra's lips. "I am a mercenary. She trusts me as far as she can throw me. Corvo is well aware that if someone were to offer me more money to eliminate her, I'd do it in a heartbeat."
"You are disgusting", Noah spat and the nausea intensified. He hoped not to black out before this conversation was over – what an embarrassment.
"Loyalty destroys you!" Yedra snapped at a surprised Noah. "Caring destroys you. Love destroys you. Look at the Dead Men or at Vex and Rue for that matter. If one of them died …" she didn't have to finish the sentence for Noah to piece the rest together himself. He had seen the hollow expression on Dexter's face two nights ago when his husband had been kidnapped. Love had turned him into a vengeful man with his mind set on destroying the people who had dared to lay a hand on Saracen.
"There wouldn't have been an opening", Yedra continued more calmly. "Not with Ciardha around. As opposed to me, she is very very loyal to Corvo and would die for her – if she could be killed. I still haven't figured out how to do that exactly. How do you kill darkness itself?"
A frown worked its way on Noah's brow and he opened his mouth to ask.
"Ciardha. A Necromancer", Yedra clarified when she caught the confused expression on the receptionist's face.
Even though Noah was clueless as to why a Necromancer meant especially bad news, he just nodded. Probably someone who could raise the dead. Perhaps Mr. Pleasant was also a Necromancer? He seemed to have some sort of control over death, at least.
The gears in his mind were turning and rattling and spinning. Could he trust – no – believe this woman? Reason screamed no but intuition suggested yes. What should he do? Noah would have to decide quickly: to the west the sun was nearing the horizon and Beltene was almost upon them.
"What's the deal? If I don't like it I walk."
"Agreed."
Dexter nudged Saracen in the ribs. "Are you seeing what I am seeing?"
Just seconds ago, the mages had reached the corner of the hotel and were trying to make themselves a picture of what was happening. Of course, the screams had reached them long before they could even peak around the corner. But seeing what was going on, was even more painful.
"Got a plan?" Saracen winced as the Necromancer tossed Lagrima to the floor like a rag doll. She didn't show a sign of life.
"Heroically dash in and save her?"
Dexter sighed. "Yeah, why not. Ciardha will use her against us. And who is the dude?"
"No idea. He must be the Elemental who helped attack the shield. It does not matter. Two on two. Thoughts? Time's a-hasting."
"The she-is-not-really-on-our-side-trick?"
"You want to pull that off here? Lagrima can't take any more of this beating!" Saracen hissed.
"I am all ears for a better plan."
Saracen tightened his jaw and nodded jerkily. "Okay."
They could see Ciardha stroll over to where movement came into Lagrima and she was trying to scramble away from the Necromancer. A conversation drifted over to them.
"Ciardha, I think that is enough. Don't forget, Corvo wants her revenge and she will not take it lightly that the girl is already gravely wounded."
"You are a spoilsport, Drawn", Ciardha said and kicked Lagrima in the side, sending her to the floor again with a sharp cry of pain. "But I was thinking, we could use her as leverage to have them finally take that damn shield down."
"What do you have in mind?"
"Torture her in front of the Dead Men. Their soft hearts will not be able to bear the sight and do as we ask."
"Torture? What part of no harm did you not understand?"
Ciardha smirked. "Oh, but I meant your kind of torture."
Laughter was the answer but not from Drawn; he thought it was a fairly terrible plan but that hardly gave him a reason to laugh. He preferred frowning.
"Awful planning on your end", Dexter Vex said and slow-clapped as he and Rue walked towards them. Neither seemed to be in a particular hurry and when they stopped, Vex even stuck his hand in his pocket in a relaxed gesture as though he were meeting friends.
"And why is that?" Ciardha asked innocently and rammed her heel into Lagrima's stomach, paying close attention to the Dead Men's reaction. To her surprise they didn't even flinch at the sharp cry of pain.
"True, we hate seeing you treat her like this", Saracen answered and hoped his voice was collected enough, hoped it was cold enough. "Nobody should look down on others like you do. However, while she is an ally, there is no way we would put her life before everyone living on this planet. One life does not matter if the world is at stake."
"We learned that the hard way", Dexter added in an undertone of darkness. "We are not here to save her, we are here to take you down and if we can help her, then that's a bonus. Not a priority."
Tears stung Lagrima's eyes. It was a scam. It had to be. A brilliant con to save her. But when she looked up into the cold stony masks that were Rue's and Vex' faces, her resolution started to crumble. Doubts seeped into her, riddled her very being and unhinged her mind. What if they were abandoning her? No, not after everything she had done for them; they couldn't leave her like this! Weren't they friends? Had that only been her own naivité to trust them?
Lavoro da sola perché non posso fidarmi di nessuno, she thought bitterly. Loro mi consegneranno a Mila senza di battere ciglia per salvare il mondo. Non é che volevo? Dilatare il gioco per Rue and Vex, per gli Uomini Morti, malgrado le consequenze? Sí, lo volevo ma ho pensato che mi avessero copertole spalle … Mi sonso sbagliata.4
Lagrima was a mess. Everyone could see that: stray hairs had broken free of her braid and clung to her sweat-covered pale face. Haunted green eyes and shallow breathing made her look even worse for wear. Her hands were pressed onto her stomach but blood had started to dye them red. The shirt, once light grey was crimson now.
"Even if she is your ally? I didn't think the Dead Men had fallen so low. She helped you in your plot", Ciardha pointed out and pressed down harder. Lagrima winced.
"We never asked her to", Saracen said and out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw Lagrima sag even more and he was certain he heard a sob. This was not going as planned. Lagrima somehow did not understand that this was their plan. To make her worthless and invaluable in the eye of their opponents and thus saving her life. The girl took it personally and Saracen realized she must have been abandoned or betrayed more than just once in her life to react like this. It was too late to change tactics, however.
"Don't fall for it", Drawn cut into the conversation. His voice was still calm but a vertical crease between his eyebrows betrayed his feelings. "They do care. Look." He pointed his hand at Lagrima and her tears sank into the skin.
For a moment nothing happened. Then Lagrima's face screwed up in pain and she clawed at her chest as though she were trying to rip it open. A scream tore from her throat. Ciardha released her and the girl curled up. "Please … " she gasped. "Stop."
Lagrima felt her own tears course through her body as tiny icy particles, slicing and cutting nerve ends, stinging into her inner organs and momentarily clogging the arteries leading to her lungs, making her starve for oxygen. The pressure put on her body was enormous and she simply wished it to be over. Drawn was not just not dull as wood, he was very creative when it came to his power.
"All right, enough chit chat. Dex, I take the banker, you try your luck with Ciardha." Saracen broke into a sprint and threw himself at Drawn.
Icicles dropped out of the sky and Saracen leaped to the side, ducking and rolling over the ground. Gracefully, he evaded them, although more than once it seemed like he might be struck. It was as though he knew where he was allowed to step and how to move. His fist collided with Drawn's jaw and the mage stumbled back.
Shocked, he looked at his opponent, whose face now openly showed all the anger he had fought down before. "How did you-"
"I am Saracen Rue and I know things!"
ooOoOoo
Translations:
1 Fuck you
2 I am fine. I am fine. I can do this
3 Just another few minutes
4 I work alone because I cannot trust anyone. They are going to hand me over to Mila without batting an eye in order to save the world. Is that not what I wanted? Stall the game for Rue and Vex, for the Dead Men, disregarding the consequenzes? Yes, I wanted that but still I thought that they would have my back ... I was wrong.
I hoped you enjoyed it and please review! Let me know what you think! =)