So… It's been months since I last touched this. I'll be honest it's been tempting to just walk away and never look back like so many other authors have done with their stories. But I don't want to be like them. I've started something, and however good or bad it may or may not be, it doesn't seem right to just leave it as is. I've looked over my chapters, reading them as any of you have, and reading the reviews. I know my grammar sucks, I've said it time and again, maybe I should have paid more attention in English, or gotten hooked on Phonics when I was a kid, but I digress. I like to think I put story before anything else, after which follows character development, dialogue, and at the bottom of the list, grammar. Maybe it's a half assed excuse for not going back to do basic grammatical cleanup… and maybe you're right, but as long as you get the story I'm trying to convey, can't you look past it?
I don't own Claymore.
Chapter 12: A Promise is a Promise
Approximately One year prior to Elijah's desertion…
Snow.
Elijah always hated the snow… it was cold, wet, and an inconvenience. Though since becoming a warrior for the organization he didn't notice it much anymore. His body had a heightened regulation and was never too cold or too hot to be an inconvenience in either extreme.
Still, it had other annoyances to accompany it, when it melted it made his clothes damp and his armor rust, rain was less of an aggravation, mostly because when it hit the ground it dissipated quite easily, but snow packed, becoming an irritating speed bump in an otherwise uneventful walk.
But this walk was anything but uneventful.
Earlier that day…
Elijah wondered through a nameless forest, seemingly lost in thought when he noticed a familiar face approaching.
"What is it?" he asked.
The emissary of the Organization, produced a black card from within his cloak and threw it to Elijah who caught it. "Seems someone wants you to be their final visitor."
Eli caught the card with ease and turn it over to see the symbol. He gazed at the three straight line on the card then looked to the cloaked man. "Isley? He's awakening?"
The emissary simply shrugged once. "So it would seem, strange I thought that you would awaken long before he."
Elijah just blinked, emotionlessly. "I suppose I would take insult if I didn't share that sentiment myself."
The man turned to leave. "Then you had best get started, before a great monster stirs from his slumber."
Elijah made little noise as he walked through the woods, the soft crunch of snow underneath was all that accompanied him. It was an eerily quite silence, as if he could hear the flakes themselves bursting on impact with the ground as so many others had before them, and that was the thing. There were no birds around, no hares or wolves or bears or deer. The whole forest seemed tense with anticipation as if even the trees themselves were holding their breaths.
Elijah then walked over a hill and saw him, one of the only people to ever earn his respect. The only one left whose powers surpassed his own. Isley, the White-haired King.
"You're late Elijah." The man said, his voice strong yet charming, mirroring his demeanor. "I expected you to find me hours ago."
"I would have been here sooner, but this snow kept getting in the way." Elijah replied looking to the ground at it. "Such an inconvenience it is."
Isley looked to the sky as flakes floated past his face. "Yes. It can get rather annoying can't it?" He reached out his hand to touch a flake, only for it to melt away almost instantaneously in his hand. "Still, it doesn't bother us like it does normal humans. If they get too cold from this, they can die. But not us, we don't get cold, or hot for that matter. We just keep going on and on…"
Isley turned to face Elijah, his silver eyes meeting Elijah's. The younger warrior looked him up and down, noticing something. "You sent me the black card, Isley. Yet as I look at you now and I am close enough to feel your yoki, I sense you are still far from awakening."
Isley smiled and clapped slowly, Elijah remained ever stoic. "That is correct. I knew you would notice."
Elijah turned to leave. "Then this was all pointless." He turned and took a step away from Isley.
"Stop." The superior warrior ordered. Elijah did but did not turn back around, merely withdrawing his step and now standing perfectly still. "Don't you want to know what this was all about? Why I called you here?"
"I don't care to indulge you, Isley. I have work to do." The stoic warrior replied, taking another step. This time Isley, quick as light, closed the distance between them, putting his hand on Elijah's shoulder, never making a sound.
"Don't be that way, Elijah." Isley said, his smirk never dropping. "I have something really important to discuss with you."
Elijah looked over his shoulder, eyeing the hand. He sighed turned around and stared Isley face to face. "Fine, but be quick about it."
Isley's smirk widened. "Good. Now as you know you and I are the only single digits left of the male generation…" he began, pacing in the snow. "Not the last two males but only a dozen or so of us are left in total. The organization has stopped trying to use boys entirely and had begun serious work into recruiting females into our ranks."
Elijah shrugged. "It can't be helped. We are, apparently, more susceptible to awakening, and those of us that don't are killed by the ones that do."
Isley snapped his fingers and pointed to Eli, as if in accusation. "Exactly my point! We can't fight our former brethren, not like this. Since their awakening the single digits have been rampaging all over, none able to stop their carnage or match their power."
Elijah continued to frown. "I know all this, what's the point you're trying to make?"
Isley stopped in his tracks, now a few feet away and faced Elijah squarely. "We need that power to destroy them Elijah! We need to awaken."
Elijah blinked once, his mind almost not believing what his ears were hearing. "I beg your pardon?"
Isley walked forward, gripping Elijah's shoulders with a firm clasp and giving a wide smile to his face. "You heard me right! We need to awaken! That way we will have power enough to kill the monsters our brethren have become and save this land! What do you think?"
Elijah blinked again, taking a step back and knocking away Isley's grip with a swipe of his arm. "What do I think? What do I think? I think you've gone mad." Elijah replied, his voice still smooth and steady though now his arm began slowly reaching for his weapon.
Isley, still held his smile, though now it dimmed a bit. "I suppose I was asking for that reaction." He said scratching the back of his head. "But think of it Elijah. We are two warriors who have never had to use our yoki to the extremes, we've never been pushed to the edge. What if we could control that power? And together? As a team? We'd be unstoppable."
"No one can control that power, Isley." Elijah stated flatly. "Power is not worth madness."
Isley took another step forward. "Elijah, part of the reason you and I have survived so long is that we've both have excellent yoki control. If anyone could still retain their minds after awakening it would surely be you and me."
"You know as well as I do, that once a warrior awakens, anything that was once human about them, inside of them, is gone, forever." Elijah stated again, now touching the tip of his blade handle.
Isley's smile faded completely into a straight face. "I still believe we can do it. And those traitors? Rigardo, Dauf, Chronos, Lars… we could eliminate them all, and punish them for what they did to our unawakened brothers who went after them."
"We may be able to eliminate them Isley, but not like this." Elijah replied. "When the Organization replenishes our ranks…"
Isley snorted. "With what? Little girls? No woman warrior will ever be able to match up to the power we once had Elijah. So I ask you once again old friend, will you join me?"
Elijah stared at the snow for a few minutes before he looked up meeting Isley's gaze. "Tell me something… old friend. When did Isley the Silver-haired King abandon reason for madness?"
Ilsey drew his sword and Elijah's eyes widened as he quickly drew his blade to block Isley's attempt to slash his chest. Isley followed up quickly with lightening fact thrusts and slashes. Elijah dodged and blocked but was only barely able to hold on. Isley came down hard with a downward slash as Elijah blocked with his claymore. Isley put on pressure as the younger warrior fell to one knee. "You've gotten better Elijah, but you are still no match for me."
Elijah looked to his superior, gritting his teeth. "Stop this, Isley. Before it's too late."
Isley smirked and with a swift, powerful kick sent Elijah flying into a tree. Elijah looked up to see Isley was releasing his yoki, and quite rapidly. Elijah had no time to think and began to release his yoki as well. The snow was blown away as both Isley and Elijah began to gain strength and speed. But as the battle raged on, Isley began to push Elijah back. His blows were fast and efficient and though the younger warrior tried to keep up he was no match.
The elder warrior with a powerful blow knocked the claymore out of Elijah's hands. He then quickly threw aside his own sword and came up from behind, getting Elijah into a headlock, the both of them now looking more like raging snarling beasts than men.
Elijah struggled in vain beneath him as Isley gave a wide toothy grin. "You'll see Elijah! You'll see I'm right!" Elijah continued to struggle until he felt a presence reach out to his yoki. He realized what Isley was trying to do. Isley snarled and grinned wildly. "Don't fight it! Embrace the power!" with that Isley finished the yoki synch and began to release even more of his power, Elijah's yoki now rising with it.
Elijah could feel the power rising inside himself. He felt like he was sinking, but it also felt amazing, the best feeling he had ever experienced. His mind was racing. "What do I do? Any longer and I'll lose myself. I… I don't want to lose myself." He felt the last bits of himself fade into nothingness. "I am… I am…"
Then it was quiet again.
Complete silence.
Isley looked at his hands, they were now a dark grey-black, he looked down to see hooves and behind him to see an equine-like back. He looked around for his claymore and picked it up. It was now so small in his grip it felt more like a child's toy than a weapon. He then looked to the unconscious mass in front of him and blinked once, his pupil-less ice blue eyes locking on.
There was what he knew to be Elijah. His arms had grown and widened, now resembling bird's wings, his legs long, bony and skinny and feathers protruding all over his upper torso, arms, and head. But it all looked half-formed as if in the middle of transforming something had willed it to stop. "So… it seems you weren't able to awaken fully after all, Elijah. A shame. I expected more form you." He then looked to the sky for a moment. "Though, I don't really feel like killing yoma anymore, I'm just… hungry." Isley grip tightened on his blade until it snapped, the fragments of the blade falling in the snow. "Isley, the claymore is no more." He looked one last time to Elijah's form. "This is goodbye, number one. I hope, for your sake, we never meet again." With his last words Isley disappeared, and the silence reigned once more.
Twenty-three years, 2 months, 13 days after Elijah's desertion of the Organization…
A wanderer drifted into a town like any other. The cloaked man roving through the town like driftwood on the open sea. He eventually found the same thing he sought in every town he came to, the local pub. He got a few stray glances, especially with his weapon, as he walked over to a bar stool and sat down, slumping his head into the table.
The bartender eyed him, with a mix of irritation and disgust. He knew these types, would drink all the booze in the world if they had their way, which was fine except most of them didn't have two beras to rub together. Nothing was worse for business than a drunk who couldn't pay his tab, or worse being a place known for allowing that sort of thing.
Knowing he had to make that clear right away the bartender moved closer to the stranger, eyeing the man's weapon cautiously. "Hey… Hey buddy." The gruff man said, poking the man's head with one finger. The stranger gave a mumble and waved his hand in the air, as if swatting a fly, then remained still once more. The bartender furrowed his brow. "Hey, listen pal." He began, putting a hand on the man's shoulder hand shaking. "You order something or you get out."
The man gave a shudder and looked up, his eyes hidden beneath his hood. "Fine. Give me you hardest drink and keep them coming." He flopped back down to the counter.
The bartender raised a brow but poured the drink nonetheless. He set the shot glass down in front of the man. The stranger looked up, albeit barely, and grasped the glass, he began to take it to his lips when the battened grabbed his wrist. "Now look son, you take that and you pay for it, no free drinks here."
The stranger grunted and spoke in a weary voice. "Don't worry, I'll be able to cover it."
The bartender looked at the man for a second and squeezed once, enforcing the consequences of being a free loader. With his interference gone the man downed the drink in a flash, setting down the shot glass. "Another." He ordered.
The man poured, this shot gone as soon as the first. "Another." The bartender poured.
"Another."
Pour.
"Another."
Pour.
"Another."
The bartender shook his head. "I don't think so."
The man gave a visible frown under his hood. "I want another."
"No." the bartender replied sternly. "You aren't getting another drop until I see some money."
The man sneered and with hands faster than lightning, snatched the bottle out of his hands. Gulping down the remaining contents and slamming the bottle down on the counter. The bartender had had it. He drew a large mace out from under the bar and set it down on the counter. "Now here's what's gonna happen. You're gonna either pay me what's owed and get the hell out of here, or I'm going to take you out back where my boys and I show what we do to free loading drunks.
The stranger looked up and then to his sides, three burly looking men had stood up from their places around the pub and were eyeing him down. He stood up and sighed. "Fine." He grabbed the bottle and broke it on the counter, then he threw the shattered bottle at a patron, the bottle hit him square in the forehead, the sharp side imbedded in his skull. The man looked at the bottle for a second then slumped over, his head hitting the table with a thud.
The bartender made a move towards the stranger as did the bouncers. But the stranger held up his hand and they paused. "Wait." There was a moment of silence and then the slumped man shuddered and got up with a start roaring, his skin turning a slimy green-grey, his eyes turning gold and his teeth becoming sharp as his claws came out.
The yoma pushed aside the table making a mad, enraged dash at the stranger, his claws poised to attack. The four men were in shock at the development but the stranger didn't miss a beat. He snatched the mace away from the bartender as the yoma closed in and slammed it into the side of its skull, the head tearing off and flying sent through a window as the body collapsed, screams could be heard from outside at the sudden surprise.
Silence took over the room as the stranger plopped back down in his seat. Everyone stared at him in sock and awe.
"Another."
Earlier, elsewhere nearby…
A young woman looked at herself in a full length body mirror, she had great pride in her looks. A wavy should-length brunette, with a nice body and curves in all the right places… except one. Her eyes focused on her chest and she put her hands over it. Her breasts were… less than impressive to say the least, and she knew it.
She sighed. "Why can't I have a bigger bust?" She looked around her room. It wasn't anything stylish, in fact it was the cheapest thing she could find, and she could barely cover the overhead as it was.
She had made the sojourn from her home village over seven years ago to try and make a life for herself, needless to say, she was less than successful. Stuck as a waitress in a dingy pub, she had to deal with insults, rudeness and general disrespect ever since she came here. She considered going back to her hometown, but her pride was too great to let her. Plus the journey was perilous, and had become even more so with the threat of bandits and yoma alike. Being a lone woman in the wilds wasn't a smart position to be in. So for now she worked her job, hoping and praying something, anything, would come along and sweep her from the doldrums.
"If only I could find a wealthy man to latch onto." She thought, staring herself in the mirror as she dawned her apron. "Oh well, time for another shift at the pub."
She walked down the road towards the pub and watched as people went about their business. She had to admit, it was a nice community. Though no one was particularly well off, everyone got by simply doing what they had always done. Whether it was smithing, baking, fishing, or farming, everyone had their niche here. "Everyone except me." The girl thought walking down the street, her eyes now glued to the ground.
At twenty-four she had thought about her life, and there wasn't much to say. She was the younger of two children in an unremarkable household. Her sister had stayed in the village and gotten married, by now she probably had children of her own.
She on the other hand craved more. She wanted to see the world, she had said. Didn't want to settle down early just to pop out a few brats and live an uneventful life, but now she was nearly broke with almost no special talents, her cooking and sowing were mediocre at best and she had little aptitude or talent for anything else. Except for one thing.
She reached into the pouch in her apron and produced a notebook, it was meant for taking down long orders, but she had other uses for it. She flipped it open and looked at the drawing of a flower, it was intricate and stylish, showing definite signs of talent. She loved to draw and paint when she could, and even fantasized about being a famous artist. Unfortunately, the arts, especially famous ones, were left to nobles and those with plenty of money to throw around. Still it was an enjoyable pass time, and she was thankful for that at least.
Something caught the waitress' attention, to be specific, a loud crash quickly followed by a plop. She looked down at her feet to see an ugly, smashed grey-green head roll to her feet. "AHHHHHH!" she screamed out in surprise. Everyone turned to see what the commotion was all about as there was a round of other gasps and short screams from around her as she slowly backed away from the head.
An elder man came up to her and held her shoulders, which she was thankful for feeling now as if she was about to faint. "Are you alright miss?" he asked.
The waitress regained her balance and took a few deep breaths, she nodded and the man let go. She looked to see where the head's point of origin was and saw the smashed window it had come out of. The smashed window belonged to the same pub she worked at. She composed herself and walked towards the establishment, curious as to why yoma heads were suddenly flying out windows.
Back inside the pub…
"Another." The cloaked man demanded.
"Wh-what are you?" The bartender asked, now visibly frightened, as others also began to back away from the man.
"It is unimportant. I have provided you with an expensive service, more than covering what I owe. Now pour me another drink of something strong before I decide to become really unpleasant." He growled.
The bartended pulled himself together, and turned around and pulled a glass off the shelf. Pushing it towards the man. "Here. Now take it and go."
The stranger looked up. "I beg your pardon?"
"I said to take it and go." The bartender repeated, though nervously. "I don't need any trouble like yours, nor does anyone else here. So just take it and go."
The stranger gave a mirthless chuckle. He got up his seat to address the entire building. "And this is how you all feel then? This is how you treat a man who saved your lives? Toss him out of your town, out of fear?"
Silence.
He nodded once. "Fine." He grabbed the bottle and walked towards the entrance, people parting before him in fright. He took a swig and tossed back his head as he walked through the door. He felt something run into him and looked down to see a young woman. He could hear a few gasps behind him as if they thought he would snap if you so much as looked at him funny. The young woman on the other hand felt differently.
"Watch where you're going, you idiot!" she yelled, getting up and rubbing her slightly sore bum. She looked up to see a lean-looking stranger, though his face was shrouded by his hood. He observed her for a moment as if considering something, then he walked off. "Yeah that's right, buddy! You don't want any kind of trouble I could give ya." She yelled after him, though he didn't turn around as he disappeared into the crowd.
She walked into the pub and heard many breaths now being released, the whole building seemingly breathing as one. She walked past them and towards the bar, now noticing the headless yoma body. She gasped for a moment then let her own breath go. She turned to the bartender. "So… I miss something?"
The bartender sighed and pointed to two of his men. "Get that out of here." He said pointing to the body. They did as they were told and carried the body out the back door. He turned back to the young waitress. "Just do your job."
"But what was-"
"I said do your job!" he yelled slamming his hand on the table. She simply nodded once and went to fulfill her duties.
The stranger was slumped in an alleyway, taking another swig, then looking at then looking at the bottle. "I don't know why I thought this would be different." he thought. "I don't know why I even bother. I probably saved a few dozen or more lives just now, and yet… and yet… the fear still remains." He thought eyeing the bottle before him, as if all the answers were at the bottom of its contents.
Elijah didn't know why he did much of anything anymore, he wandered from place to place so often, yet their welcome was strikingly similar wherever he went. He was always outcast, like a leaper. He tried killing yoma for the people but most were suspicious that he was one of them in disguise or simply afraid of his power. He didn't even know why he bothered drinking, he couldn't get drunk, was unable to drown his sorrows in booze, yet he still drank giving more of a placebo effect than anything else, though only just.
He heard the sound of clanking armor and looked over to see a snooty, handsome noble youth walking by, followed by three similarly dressed men and an older fat man behind them. Bringing up the rear were three body guards with large battle axes and heavy armor, along with four other less well-armed men. Elijah got up and stumbled over to the edge of the alleyway, listening to the conversation between them.
"Now listen boy." He grumbled. "We are not spending too long in this backwards town, so don't you or your friends go getting attached to any commoner girls like in the last town."
The blonde youth snorted and said in a high pitched voice "You worry far too much father. We won't."
"I mean it now." Said the old man. "We needn't anything to distract us on our way."
"We'll be fine father, you worry too much." The son repeated. With that the two left the old man heading towards the north end of town and the son heading toward the pub he just left.
Later…
"Where is my booze?" asked one of the young men, sneering at the waitress as she approached.
The six young men had gotten a few tables all in a row, most of the pub had cleared out by now, having seen too much excitement for one day. The waitress approached one of the tables and set down the bottle. "So what took you so long you idiot?" he sneered.
She wanted to slap that half-drunk jeer right off his face. "Please forgive me." She said through her teeth, continuing a strained smile.
The rich son sighed. "I'm bored to death."
"Me too." Another agreed.
"Isn't there anything fun to do around here?" he asked aloud.
The waitress sighed as she walked back over to the bartended. "Jeez what's with the customer's today?"
The bartender gave a weary smile to her. "Now now, Kyrie. Just keep smiling."
"But they're-"
"Careful, that blonde boy is the son of a high noble man in these parts." He advised.
"Check it out." Another one of the boys said whipping out a blade. "Brand new."
"Nice." Another commented.
"Some blade, eh? Can't wait to do a test cut." He eyed an elderly man who glanced over at the boy before looking away. "What are you looking at?" he asked walking over, the man remained silent trying to avoid confrontation.
With the tip of his sword the youth spilled the glass of tea and the old man jumped. Gaining a round of chuckles from the group. "You got him!" another bellowed.
Kyrie saw it and had had enough. "You guys are a bunch of-" she was stopped mid-sentence as the bartender grabbed her and shut her mouth.
Northern part of town…
A meager man was on his knees bowing his head down. "Oh please sir, if I lose this construction job it will mean the death of my entire family! Oh please sir please!"
The fat noble man held out his hand and motioned the man forward. The meager man came forward as Elijah watched with his usual frown.
The noble looked at the money the man placed in his hand and scoffed. You dare give me this?" he asked, holding out the money.
The meager man backed off and fell to his knees, bowing his head. "Well… I…" he stuttered.
"Your spare change?!" he bellowed throwing the beras at the meager man's feet as he cringed. "You men!" he ordered his guards. "Kill this peasant for me at once!"
Elijah took a step forward but was stopped by another in the crowd. "Don't, you may not like it, but just let it go." He advised. "See those men with the axes? Those are his body guards. They're famous axe fighters, you wouldn't stand a chance."
The door to the pub opened and closed. Kyrie did her duty and walked up to the man and greeted him. "Good afternoon sir." She said.
He walked by her in silence. Sitting down at a table opposite side of the pub of the entourage. "Bread."
"Bread?"
"Yeah, bread."
"Well, um…" she paused for a sending looking at the man, he looked an awful lot like the man from earlier, yet different. "We only serve paying customers so you'll have to order more than bread. If you're broke go somewhere else."
He held up a finger and motioned her towards himself. She drew near and he whispered into her ear. "Five bottles of booze."
"Huh?"
"Let me drink and I'll take care of those guys over there for you." He said sticking a thumb out at the entourage.
She looked over her shoulder at them then turned back. "Hmm…"
"What is it?" he asked.
"For two bottles." She countered.
His frown deepened. "Are you kidding? I'm not going one bottle lower."
"Hey where's my drink?" the blonde man bellowed.
"Coming." She replied bringing her tray over, on her way she tripped and the drink fell, splashing the man in the face.
"Uh… I'm really sorry." She said
"I don't wanna hear it." He replied. "All I wanna hear, is how you're gonna make it up to me." He paused for a second. "One finger or two?"
"Huh?" she asked before two of the men behind her came up and pushed her to the table, extending her hand out.
"I suppose one ought to be enough." he said as if he considered it a mercy.
The man with the new sword stood up and unsheathed the sword. "Allow me. I've been wanting to give this a test cut." He said lowering the blade near her face. "Now don't move too much or you might lose more than a finger, like your nose, or maybe an ear."
The bartender stood still and motioned for his bouncers to drawn near. He liked Kyrie but didn't want to incur the wrath of a noble.
"It isn't much, but you know what they say…" the fat man sneered. "Only a few beras to cross the river styx." He said, chuckling to himself.
"You bastard..." The carpenter seethed.
"Move it will you? You're blocking the road." Came the monotone of Elijah.
Is that so?" one of the bodyguards asked, "And who the hell are you?"
"To serve your lord and do his bidding, is that honorable?" he asked them.
"Hmph, of course it is." Another answered.
"Even if that lord is an unimportant piece of shit?" He asked calmly.
The three reached for their weapons. "Say what?" one asked. "You better watch your mouth." Spoke another.
"Cutting down a man who's done nothing wrong, is that what you spent those years honing your skills for?" he asked.
"Why I ougha-!" Another growled.
"In my opinion you're worthless." He stated flatly.
"Screw you!" they shouted, drawing their weapons and charging at him.
With three quick slashes, he ended them. Sheathing his sword as the bodies fell over. Elijah then looked to the noble who was jaw dropped at the sight. "Wait is it money you want? You can have as much as you want!" he pleaded. Elijah simply turned away, picking up a few of the beras on the ground. "I'll take these." He said putting them inside his clothes.
The carpenter was dumbfounded, but grateful as the cloaked man walked away. The fat noble called out after him. "You-you bastard!" he pointed to Elijah as he walked on, now having money to pay for drink. "Somebody stop that man!" he turned around to his remaining guard. "You miserable good for nothing cowards!"
Kyrie was frightened out of her wits, she was gonna lose a finger. She knew there was only one thing to do. "Twenty bottles!" she shouted.
The entourage exchanged confused glances but the cloaked man drew himself up and began to walk over. 'Well boys, looks like your lives ain't worth jack! No more than a few bottles each."
The man with the sword walked towards the cloaked man 'You're a gutsy guy I'll give you that. But if you don't shut your mouth you're gonna piss me off." He sneered at him. "Watch your ass or I'll try out my new sword on you someday."
"Why not right now?" The man brought his blade down but the cloaked man drew his sword with lightning fast speed, cutting off the arm as the limb flopped to the floor, blade still in hand. The man shuddered and fell to the floor, clutching his stub. "Forget the formal stuff. I'll take all you bitches on at once!" He challenged.
The other men moved to get their weapons and came at him. The man bobbed and weaved their blows, thrusting his blade into one's chest before he heard a voice call out. "Are you some kind of idiot?" Came the voice of the rich son. Kyrie had gotten behind the counter, watching in awe and fright. The young man continued to speak. "My old man's one of the highest nobles in these parts. Fact is you mess with me and you won't live long enough to see the next sunrise. You getting it? You can't just swing your sword at whoever you want and expect whatever you want."
The stranger walked over and scratched the noble son's face with his blade. The son felt a bead of sweat drop form his forehead. "Listen my old man has tree axe-wielding baddasses guarding him around the clock." He continued, his voice shaking. The cloaked man paused at this and the young man sensed it. "Yeah! So you scared yet?" he said a little confidence growing in his voice.
The stranger held out his hand. "Gimme your hand." He ordered. The young man hesitated before he reached out and the cloaked man snatched it. He then turned to the others. "Listen up morons! You guys ain't worth bothering with! You have ten seconds to go and grab these 'badasses'. I'll count with his fingers till you get back. This is one." He said bending back the pinky as it broke like a twig. The young noble screamed in pain. The other men now backing away towards the door. "And two." He broke the ring finger as the noble yelled louder and louder. "And three." The men ran out the door as fast as they could. "And four." He sighed. "This is boring… what the hell. Let's do 'em all!"
The young man heard this and said through sobs. "No wait…" The door opened and in stepped a cloaked stranger, the same one from earlier that day. He young man looked at him with some hope. "Are you one of them? One of my father's bodyguards?" he asked.
"I can see you're in the middle of something. Pardon me." He said turning to leave.
"Hey." The other cloaked man asked. "Are you one of them? One of the so-called 'badasses'?"
He drew his sword as the other did as well, the first man gave a high side-slash as Elijah, ducked going for the knees. The man jumped out of the way and bounced off the ceiling. "You got the wrong guy. But don't bother waiting for the guards, they're all gone."
"They left?" The other asked.
"I killed all three."
"That's even better!" Said the energetic man as he and Elijah fought, going around the bar. Elijah straightforward efficient moves clashing with the other's more unorthodox, acrobatic fighting style, neither gaining any real advantage over the other. Their fight continued, going up the stairs as the rest of the pub's patrons, including the bartender his boys and Kyrie tried to move out of the way. Then they saw the one-armed man tip over some of the lighting fluid used for torches, with a sick grin he grabbed a match and set the pub on fire. Everyone ran as the fire quickly spread, leaving only the two cloaked men inside.
The energetic man grinned. "I can't imagine a more perfect setting."
"Aren't you going to run?" Elijah asked.
"Nah, but go ahead don't stay on my account!" The clashed again as the building began to collapse.
Later…
SPLASH
The cloaked man looked up, his clothes now singed. "What in the hell, is going on here?" he asked.
"Don't you remember?" asked a voice next to him. Who he saw was bound tightly by irons and rope. It was night now, and they were far away from where they had been, it looked like the courtyard to a mansion. They were surrounded on all sides by men with armor and weapons.
"I remember a dream… burning and ash filling my lungs and then…" He began. "There was fire all around me."
That wasn't a dream" Elijah corrected.
"Too bad it wasn't a dream." Cut in a fat voice from before that Elijah recognized as the same fat noble from before. "My son burned to death in that fire, and now you're both going to pay for that." He grinned. "Fortunately, I have a few torture devices I use on arrogant little whelps like yourselves. You'll be well taken care of until your execution tomorrow."
The two spent the night in agony as the torture masters worked them over, their bodies and minds being pushed to the limits.
Meanwhile…
Kyrie kick some of the ashes of the pub she had once worked at, seemingly lost in thought.
"Kyrie…" a strong voice cut in form behind. 'I guess this must be awfully tough for you." The bartender said sympathetically, his hands now carrying the last of what he had in the world, his boys carrying the rest.
"Nah, its fine." She replied, kicking apart more of the ash.
You can come with us if you like." He offered.
"Nah, this has forced me to make up my mind." She said with a smile.
The bartender looked at her with some confusion but she simply smiled a knowing smile.
Meanwhile…
The two warriors lay exhausted next to each other. It's hard to believe isn't it?" Elijah wondered out loud. "I thought you were dead all this time Caesar."
Caesar smiled, their cloaks now gone, looking at each other for the first time in decades. "Life's just funny that way I guess, I thought the same of you."
"Your fighting style is still a mess though, so many inefficient movements."
"You son of a-" Caesar tried to move but found his body too exhausted and his shackles too tight.
"I swear, you are the most undisciplined fighter I've even known."
"Shut your damn mouth."
"Still, you've managed to keep up with me, so you must be worth something."
Meanwhile outside the mansion…
Kyrie had managed to track down where the two from earlier had gone, the next town over was large and wealthy, in the center a large mansion. There were signs all over about a grand execution in the morning.
Kyrie found her way to the side entrance of the mansion where the prison cells were, there was single guard posted. He was ugly with an odd style haircut.
"Please sir!" she pleaded.
"Forget it." The guard said shoving her away. "The prisoners aren't allowed to have any visitors. Can't you bend the rules for a minute? Pretty please?!" she said clasping her hands together.
"No way." He said.
"I'm begging you, I'll do anything!" she pleaded.
The guard raised a brow. "Anything?" he took a step forward and she a step back.
"Well… uh… I…. uh…" she stuttered now regretting her choice of words.
"You mean you'll, you know have se-" he was stopped short as she took off one of her sandals and shoved it in his face.
"Anything but that." She said with annoyance.
The guard huffed. "What is this?! You said anything you lying little bitch!"
"Not with you, baldy! No way!"
"I'm not bald! This is a hair style!" he said grabbing hold of her.
"Let go!" she said, before kicking the man square in the crotch. "Tried being nice…"
Caesar tried to move towards the edge of the cell where the gate was but stopped shot, absolutely exhausted. He then head the sound of footsteps and looked up.
"Wow they put you two through the ringer, huh?" Kyrie said.
"You're that woman…" Caesar mumbled weakly.
"The one from the pub." Elijah finished.
She flashed a smile at the weakened warriors. "Well, don't you wanna know why I'm here?"
"No." Caesar said flatly.
Kyrie shrugged. "Okay. See ya."
Caesar reached out with his hand. "Wait, I was kidding."
Kyrie turned around with a sly smile. "Listen if you do me one little favor, I'll help you escape."
Caesar raised a brow. "Are you serious?"
"Well?" one of the other guards asked.
"She said she was going to visit the prisoners." The guard form before answered meekly.
"Find her." The head guard ordered.
"Yes sir!"
Kyrie fiddled with the lock as she used the key she lifted form the guard. "It's not working."
"So what's the deal with this 'favor' of yours?" Caesar asked.
Kyrie paused. "There's someone I want you to find… a swordsman who has four fingers on his right hand."
"Four… fingers?" Caesar asked.
"Over there!" a guard shouted form a distance.
"Hurry up." Elijah warned.
Kyrie continued to struggle until there was a metallic snap. "Oops."
"What is it?" Caesar asked.
"The key broke in half." She said meekly.
"Over there!" Kyrie's eyes widened and she ran off, a dozen guards ran past the cell door after her.
"Stupid girl." Caesar said. "What the hell she'd even come here for anyways?"
The next morning…
The town was gathered in the square as an announcer stood up on a box. "Now here this! There will be a public execution at sunset today!"
The crowd murmured with a mixture of anxiety and confusion.
Kyrie's covered her mouth as she gasped. "I've got to do something!"
Later…
Elijah and Caesar were lead down the row as people were gathered just outside the mansion to watch, sunset was almost here and the moment of their execution had arrived.
Kyrie found a nearby farm with plenty of cattle in the pen, she had a plan.
Elijah and Caesar were set down at the execution blocks.
"You at peace with yourself?" Elijah asked.
Caesar gave a weak smile. "Hell, every freakin' day I have to ask myself, 'Will this day be the day I die.'?"
"Vagrants Elijah and Caesar! You will now be executed and your heads be put on display. Are you ready to apologize? Are you ready to grovel at my feet and beg for forgiveness?" The fat noble asked.
"If living means bowing down to the likes of you bastards, I'd rather die on my feet with my head held high!"
The old man fumed and Elijah chuckled. "Well said… I agree with him." He said simply.
The noble sneered. "Very well then. I'll grant your wish and send you straight to the afterlife!"
With that the two executioners raised their swords, planning on killing them with their very own claymores. Caesar ducked his head and acrobatically knocked the claymore out of his hands as it landed over near Elijah who cut the ropes behind his back, quickly cutting down the guards near him and handing cutting Caesar's ropes. Elijah then tossed Caesar his weapon and the two were back and back.
"We put our fight on hold till we get out of here, agreed?" Caesar asked.
"You intend to kill them all, don't you?" Elijah asked seeing the guards around them. "Just try not to use too much of your yoki, I'm at least still need to keep a low profile form the Organization."
Caesar smirked. "Don't even think about making it out of here alive!" shouted the noble as the guards began to swarm. Elijah and Caesar cut down guard after guard but there was no end to them. Elijah saw the fat noble and cut his way towards the man. Pinning him up against a tree.
"Wait a minute! Is it money you're after?" the noble asked. Elijah drew nearer, his sword raised. "I'll give you as much as you want."
"May the gods forgive you…" the old man's eyes widened. "Because I won't!" he said slashing the man's throat.
Caesar and Elijah met back in the middle guards still swarming from all around. 'Damn these cockroaches keep coming." Caesar breathed. "And I still feel like shit.'
There was a rumbling form the ground, Elijah looked to the gate and saw there were people staring out, no in at the fighting. "Hey, look."
There was a pillar of smoke heading towards them in the distance they saw a herd of cattle coming towards them, on the lead was a silhouette.
Caesar raised a brow. "Is that…?"
Kyrie waved her hand wildly as she and the heard busted through the entrance, the guards moving out of the way to avoid the reckless stampede. Caesar and Elijah saw their chance and ran out, Kyrie following close behind.
Elijah and Caesar now stood face to face, on a secluded street. Staring each other down as screams could be heard on the distance.
"Okay..." Caesar said drawing his weapon. "It's your turn, now."
"Alright." Elijah said drawing his own weapon.
"Just hold on you two!" a famine voice cut in. Kyrie ran to them. "You guys made me a promise, remember? You haven't forgotten have you?"
"No, I haven't. But, this comes first." Elijah replied.
"Yeah, first on my list too." Caesar agreed.
"Now wait a minute! A promise is a promise and if you two end up killing each other there won't be anyone left to help me! What good is your promise then?" She sighed. Taking out a two sided coin. "We'll decide this by tossing this coin." She said. "If it's heads you fight each other, if it's tails you forget about the fight and you both come with me."
"Gimme that." Caesar said before tossing the coin high into the air. The three watched as the coin was out of sight.
"Think you may have tossed it a little too far?" Kyrie asked.
"He doesn't know the meaning of restraint." Elijah commented.
"Kiss my ass." Replied Caesar.
"Where is it?" she asked. "It should have landed by now but I don't see it." The coin came down on Kyrie's forehead, both Caesar and Elijah looking over to see the result.
"There they are!" came a shout form another side street. Dozens of guards began swarming and heading right towards them.
The two warriors began to turn and run as Kyrie peeled the coin off her head, looking at the result and smiling wide.
"Hey look, I won!"
So… It occurred to me that much of Eli's life is unaccounted for. Over a century at LEAST in fact. So for the next few chapters we're going to take a step back from Clare, Raki, Helen, Deneve, Miria and everyone else, and we're going to do some completely original story work. Don't take this to mean I'm back permanently though, I just felt a little inspiration and decided to do some writing, how knows when the next one will come around, this chapter is also a little short, and I apologize for that, there will be more meat on the next one though. Anyways, feel free to comment and favorite. Take care.
