Trinity Blood: The Second Coming
Chapter 3: Off to War
Section 3: Unexpected Repercussions
Note: I wont ally myself with any particular group (AbelxEsther, or AbelxAstaroshe) as of yet. I will be as surprised as you guys as to how this turns out. I'm just going with the flow. "There's nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and open a vein." -Walter Wellesley
(In a Hospital in the Vatican)
Brother Petros was getting increasingly restless. Though he had broken his leg and gotten hypothermia from the cold waters of Londinium's river, his injuries were, if not completely healed, at least in working condition. God did not give me this body so that it could lie in a medical bed, he thought, frustrated. But the Inquisitors had marched out just a few days ago, under the command of his able second-in-command, Paula, leaving Petros to wait in his bed.
Petros' demeanor did not earn him many friends, and visits were scarce. That's why he was surprised when a nurse announced that he had a visitor. Francesco entered a few moments later, on the heels of the nurse, with a grimace. A grimace that was noticeably more severe than Petros had seen on the Cardinal in a while. And sadness?
"I have bad news. The Inquisitors haven't reported back as planned. They're assumed dead... killed in the Alps by the rebels." He said. "They were your men, it was my duty to inform you of their loss." Francesco was most likely right. The Inquisitors had a strict time-table for keeping in contact with the Pope, but Petros couldn't believe it. Men that he had seen just days earlier. Paula... all of them. So full of energy and zeal.
"...All of them?" Petros choked on his words, stunned.
"Most casualty lists in combat with the same rebels has been one-hundred percent, and no Inquisitors are filtering back into the Vatican. They're gone Brother, I'm sorry." Francesco said sternly.
"I will not believe that all of them are dead." Petros answered stubbornly, rising out of his bed. He ripped the machine that had been holding up his leg cast, and throwing it across the room. They're not dead. I can still save some of them.
"They're gone. You must accept it, Petros. It was a possibility that this would happen as soon as we sent them into those mountains." Francesco's cold demeanor suddenly infuriated Petros, who eyed a pair of surgical blades on the tray next to his bed. You sent my brothers and sisters to their deaths for nothing, you faithless coward. How dare you. But he did not say these words, as much as Francesco deserved them. Instead, he began to limp out of the door. Francesco did not get in his way.
When he reached the hallway, a young nurse tried to stop him, and he pushed her aside, sending her to the ground. "But you're not healed yet, sir!" She sobbed. Seeing this, the rest of the hospital staff made no attempt to stop him.
- - - -
(On the banks of the Ticino River in the Alps)
Paula opened her eyes with her body and mind in complete misery. She was very disappointed; she had expected to see the light, because she was sure that she would already be dead, but all she saw was darkness. All she heard was the beating of her own stubborn heart and the gurgling of the river that had been her salvation. Damn you! Damn you both! She turned onto her side, feeling that one of her swords was still attached to her body. Why am I alive? Why do I deserve to live, when my brothers are dead? I was the one to lead them to their deaths. I should have listened!
She had chased one vampire out of the medical tent, and dodged back from the swipe of an axe, only to slip down a ledge and fall into the river. But I was too late. The sides and floor of the medical tent were splattered with blood when she had arrived. They had all been slain.
The few remaining garments that had clung to her in the frigid waters of the Ticino began to harden with frost, as the water in the cloth dropped rapidly in temperature. Shivering uncontrollably, she attempted unsuccessfully to pull herself to her feet. I will suffer here, and for what I have done, I deserve to. Laying prostrated for a few more minutes, she decided to do one last thing. Reaching for her sword with shaky hands, she struggled, and pulled it from its sheath. With great difficulty, she turned the blade around so that it was pointing towards her chest. A warriors death. A clean death.
Saying one last prayer, she utilized every ounce of her will, and pulled the blade into her own chest. The tip sunk in easily, but the thicker body of the blade got stuck in cartilage of her chest. Knowing that the incision wouldn't be enough, she cried out, and tried to pull it in farther, but her weak shivering arms could not entice the blade to go any deeper. Only a small rivulet of blood seeped out from the open wound. Helpless, she began to cry uncontrollably. The tears were the only warmth that she could feel as they streamed down her face. The horrified faces of each of the men she had lost flashed before her eyes. I've failed them all.
- - - -
(Kaltenkirchen, in northwest Germanicus)
He was here, and just like that, Abel left. Unable to follow him, Astaroshe was left behind. Take control of the army, he had said. If only the Terrans would accept her as easily as Abel imagined. Ahh, well I still have a few hours before sunset to sort everything out.
She could not keep her mind off of the conversation she had with Abel. Was I being too forward? She hadn't wanted to throw herself at him, as much as her feelings for him overpowered her senses. She still wanted him to view her with respect.
"Where's Abel?" Ion asked. Astaroshe had been so occupied with processing what had happened that she did not notice Ion entering.
"He went to Albion." Astaroshe replied icily. She was still bitter from Abel's quick escape.
"Paying Esther a visit?" Ion asked, narrowing his eyes, but Astaroshe mistook this as a jab, and slapped him in a flash of anger. Sinking to his knees and cradling his face, Ion said nothing. Too late, Astaroshe realized what he had meant. Ion loves Esther. Abel going to Albion is as much of a threat for him as it is for me. Embarrassed at her mistake, Astaroshe offered her hand, and helped Ion to his feet.
"I'm sorry, I though that..." She began.
"I know what you thought I meant. I should have worded it differently." Ion muttered, walking briskly to the other end of the kitchen.
"So what do we do now?" Astaroshe asked.
"We will do what Abel's passion has left him unable to do. We'll lead this army south and save the Vatican."
- - - -
(Inside the Ghetto, in Londinium)
The procession of scholars moved through the Ghetto, the underground factory complex in Londinium that provided the country with it's advanced technology. Seeing each of the machines and the processes used to make them, the scholars gasped and cheered in delight. None of them had anticipated just how sophisticated the complex would be, except for one.
As dictated by Erin's plan, the vampires would teach the human scientists how to operate the machinery. On this day, they were being given a run-through of the production of computer chips, when one of the members of the procession spoke up. "Chips are all very nice and interesting, but what about missiles. Certainly that technology is much more important." The stranger said.
The vampire guide eyed him suspiciously, and took out the list that he had been handed. "You're Dr. Wiseman, correct?" The stranger nodded. "From the institute of... advanced military development affairs?"
"Yes, that's correct." The stranger said impatiently.
"I haven't heard of that organization. I believe you were added very recently. Doesn't your organization conflict with the institute of military technology?"
"We're a specific offshoot." The guide narrowed his eyes, and nodded.
"Very well." He said. "We'll be going over missiles tomorrow."
"I don't have until tomorrow. It's a very ridged time line." The stranger stated.
"What is it that you want to know?" The guide asked, having a time line of his own to enforce.
"Is there a surviving terminal for the launch sequence I could analyze?" The stranger asked bluntly.
"Most of the terminals were destroyed in an accident just recently, but there is a backup terminal."
"Where is it?"
- - - -
(In a private residence in Londinium)
When she woke up, she was surprised at just how comfortable she was. The temperature in the room was just right, and her restraints were not too tight. Yet they are secure. Esther had tried to free herself in the beginning, but she had only managed to tear off layers of her skin and hurt herself.
For the most part, Cain watched her silently across the room, or walked out to do something else. It had been a few hours after he captured her before he first spoke. "I can see why Abel likes you so much." He said, surprisingly calm, sitting in a chair across from her.
"How could you begin to imagine that?" Esther hissed, seething.
"Abel and I are brothers. Almost identical in every way. We think alike." He said, rising from his chair and walking towards her.
"How dare you compare yourself to him. You're a vile creature, and he's a good man!" She shouted. Despite her shouts, he walked closer, and ran a finger gently through her hair. He trailed it down as he spoke.
"We fought wars together, Abel and I. We killed more humans than you can fathom. Many of those just by ourselves." He whispered. "Do you know that you resemble someone that Abel loved? That's why he cares for you so much. Yet, you are no where near as beautiful as she was, you're just a dirty Terran." Saying this, he pressed the back of her neck with his fingernail, making Esther squirm. "If you ever do get close to him, he will curse you every day for being almost, but not entirely what he remembered of her." He buried his nail into her soft skin, breaking the skin.
"Stop it!" Esther cried.
"Don't worry. You'll be dead soon, and with what's coming... it will be a blessing." He paused, looking her over again, before turning to leave.
- - - -
(Vatican Council meeting)
The news of the destruction of the entire department of Inquisition left the Council in a storm of doubt. "If they can kill our inquisitors that easily, they can surely destroy any other forces we send at them!" One councilor shouted frightfully.
"That is blasphemy!" Francesco shouted. "God would never let us fall. We are his kingdom! We must raise another army and send it north immediately, and with his help, we will vanquish these demons!" Caterina sighed. Yet again, you are wrong brother.
"We are well out of the range of Venice, and the enemy army is advancing faster than we could possibly reinforce it. We must have the city evacuated." Caterina interjected. Maybe some good can be pulled from this meeting.
"What would the New Human Empire think if they saw us evacuating our cities!?" Francesco roared. "We would open ourselves up to their attacks!"
"We do not evacuate our cities, madame! We have a precedent to keep. What would the people think? We are a proud-" Another councilor began to add.
"Is pride not a sin?" Caterina asked, silencing him. The Pope covered his ears with his hands, escaping into his own mind away from the violent shouts, but the argument continued. Finally, Francesco did what Caterina long expected him to do, and stood up, approaching the Pope.
"Your excellency, you must dispatch the army!" Francesco demanded. Alessandro did not reply, but turned to Caterina.
"Your excellency! Evacuate the north and we will make our stand where we are ready!" Caterina urged. Francesco tried again.
"Your excellency! God demands that we dispatch the army! You must do it now!"
"Silence!" Alessandro finally answered, amazingly loud for his high-pitched voice. Francesco stepped back in astonishment. Yes brother, you can do it.
"I have already sent men north..." He said, piecing the logic together. "And they are all dead!"
"But God wills..." Francesco said, his voice softer than Caterina had ever heard it.
"They are dead, brother. God does not will it. I say..." He paused, growing bolder. "I demand that Venice be evacuated at once." Caterina gave him another sharp look. The army brother, you must give an order to the army. "I also... demand that the army erect a wall around the city... a big one, so they cant get it!" Not quite what we wanted, but good nonetheless.
"The Pope has spoken!" Caterina said, smiling. Francesco returned to his chair, dumbstruck.