#AN: This was rather difficult to write, but I'm very happy with one character in particular. Care to guess who that is?
Chapter 22: Writing in the Wind
They departed the shabby inn just as the light started to turn the horizon of magnetic East.
It wasn't a good sleep or a long one, but it was with Louise once again and... well, it was complicated. Even if it was a side effect of a runaway feedback loop that they had come out at all, those words had still hurt her terribly. It meant that, somewhere deep down, those words lurked in Louise's heart. Had lurked the whole time. Under any normal circumstance, they would still never recover, but for two extenuating circumstances. First, now that she was actively aware of it, it was shocking just how much influence the bond of empathy they shared had if she let it. It was by choice now, but still, an insidious thing.
The second... well...
She closed her eyes and focused on the bright flame of a feeling she dare not name or call attention to, lest it be replaced with shock or indignation or embarrassment or any of a million other little things that still danced at the periphery but never managed to replace that core. The arms tight around her midriff, the body against her back, the warmth of that feeling streaming through their... "mingling", Louise had called it.
An apt name as any.
Tabitha would trust in that feeling that filled her with its warm glow.
"Tabitha, Tabitha! I think I see it!"
The arms were no longer hugging her, but insistently jabbing fingers into her side to get her attention. Because the yelling in her ear wasn't enough.
Believe in the feeling. Not the poking.
It was surprisingly hard.
For people making a "last stand", the loyalists were lax in security. Or maybe it was Reconquista's lack of dragon knights? Their own lack of livery? The part where they weren't obviously hostile?
Maybe the fools just had a death wish.
"Last stand". How insipid.
Glorifying fatalism was something Tabitha could not abide, and the thought of fifty-score young men doggedly pursuing the "glory" of spilling their own lifeblood was enough to raise bile in her throat
They had no concept of how to struggle against terrible odds and no will to prevail. Lambs.
It did make finding the erstwhile Prince Wales much easier. He intended to spend the morning in prayer in the keep's chapel before the slaughter. That was perhaps the only real blessing of the whole event because skirting the rebels' spotters and flyers had eaten more time than she had anticipated, and they would be cutting it close.
At last, the entrance they sought was in sight. Only, as it hove into view it was clear the ornate doors were wide open. She breathed deep as her instincts screamed that something was wrong. Drawing her pistol, she motioned for Louise to stay behind her and leaned into the portal proper.
Her heartbeat quickened.
It was him.
Iron Mask.
Showing his back as he stalked toward the man kneeling before altar. She had a chance!
Six reports, six slugs, six vital spots. Six ballistic trajectories altered by overpowering winds.
She holstered the gun and placed her hand on Derflinger's hilt even as the mystery man slowly turned to face her and sighed.
"You know, I was going to let you live a little longer, little girl." His tone betrayed no sense that he had any uncertainty about the outcome of their fight.
Dangerous.
"Louise, run." She was trying to not let her growing alarm bleed over their connection as they sized each other up, one confident, the other cautious.
In the briefest whisper of an instant, steel met steel, a shockwave of displaced air bursting out from the thunderous power behind their clash. Tabitha's rune-empowered physique, bolstered further with a wind sigil from the wand in her off-hand, propelled forward faster than she ever had before. But Iron Mask was faster still. Though she had been granted preternatural skill beyond mortal comprehension, it was still only enough to bridge, but not overcome his natural advantages in reach, mass, and raw magic strength.
"You're wondering how I came to be here," he ventured playfully, casually parrying a thrust that disintegrated a corner of a pew into splinters. "I see the question in your eyes. 'How could it be? Why is he here?'"
Tabitha didn't dignify him with a response. She tried to bait an opening with a lateral chop that was slightly overextended, but he took that opportunity to trip her up with a small dust devil that threw bits of parchment everywhere and she was forced to hop back out of striking range to avoid being skewered in kind. She was nearly back out of the chapel and he was closing in with the sure footwork of an expert.
"That's the problem with nobles. Too naïve. Too convinced of their own infallible superiority!" He was upon her in a blink! There were several seconds of fierce melee that saw the previously linear battle flit about in an expanding circle of devastation to the pristine woodwork of the House of the Lord. Tabitha disengaged, panting and Iron Mask... allowed it. His body language remained calm and confident.
"You keep your guard up well, little girl! But when it comes to the last you seem to fall short!" The breathing room had given him time to channel a larger spell, and a violent miniature cyclone shredded the ground as it tore across the distance to flay her flesh.
Almost exactly as planned.
"Derflinger!" Ducking low, she leapt forward, thrusting the sword of the first Gandalfr into the weave of magics binding Iron Mask's spell together.
"Aww yeah, that's the stuff!" She pushed through the minor resistance and took advantage of his surprise to impale him and tear a-
No!
She hit something as she dashed past him. She was sure of that much. But the damp flecks around her were water, not blood and the feeling... she whipped around instantly appraising, looking for the damage.
How?
"Well isn't that cute, an almost decent hit!" He theatrically brought his free hand up to hook a finger into the jagged hole she'd broken in the mask as she grazed the side of his head. "And a spelldrinker? Now there's something you don't see every day. Were you not so slow, that might have been dangerous." With a tug, the mask came free, clattering to the ground as the man's white hair flowed free. "Oh well, I've had my fun, I suppose."
"You are-"
"Viscount Wardes! What is the meaning of this treachery!?" A high voice butted in. Tabitha cursed under her breath. Trust Louise to ignore an order to flee for her life.
The now-identified Wardes, on the other hand, bore an expression of twisted delight, and Tabitha was suddenly much more aware that, as much as she stood between him and the prince, he stood between her and Louise.
"My, my," he raised his voice, "if it isn't my lovely fiancee, Louise Françoise le Blanc de la Vallière! How are you, poppet? Drown in any gardens lately? Still the same haughty noble bitch who can't cast a spell?" Any further protests died on her lips at this savage verbal blow. He turned back to the stunned Tabitha. "Well, this is an interesting impasse isn't it, little girl? You move, the royal twit dies. You don't move, well..." he trailed off with a dark chuckle.
"Why have you come here, traitor?" Louise demanded hotly, actually doing the correct thing, and trying to keep him talking. Tabitha needed time, enough to come up with a plan to extricate them all from this.
"Oooh, now there's a loaded word! 'Traitor.'" He seemed to savour the label, though he didn't relax. If anything, he became slightly more tense. "Tell me, Louise: if you were betrayed by your precious princess, who would you consider the traitor if you then decided to oppose her?" Louise's face contorted and it looked like she was about to bum rush Wardes. "Ah, but you see, she's merely a symptom of a more terrifying rot! Crisis looms and this system has failed us; is failing us still! Look upon them, pathetic royalties, petty and blind, as if the scraps of meagre land they bicker over are worth more than the weight of our collective duty!"
What is he talking about? Crisis? He sounds unhinged.
"Well, if the old guard won't do anything, if they can't set aside their differences long enough to focus on what really matters, then I'll tear it down piece by bloody piece with my own two hands!" He was becoming visibly agitated in the frenzy of his tirade but not in a way that left openings in his defense- he never let Tabitha escape his peripheral vision. "I spent my lifeblood building it up! Why shouldn't I be the one to make things right!? Tell me!" he roared. He had put Louise on the back foot handily with his passionate incoherence, and Tabitha's racing mind was no closer to anything resembling a working gambit that resolved the situation in her, in their favour.
"By the by," Wardes ventured conversationally with another jarring shift in his manner, "I overheard something truly fascinating the other day. Something about... oh, what was it?" Despite the theatrics of the performance (and it was clear he was indulging himself), he still didn't leave any openings. "Ah, yessss, how could I forget? A foolish besotted maiden in an unfortunate position of power sent a letter to her cousin."
Tabitha felt a chill run down her spine. She had thrown herself into the task of finding the prince right after their... incident... in a bid to ignore the heartache. And then she had been so caught up in relishing the newly discovered aspect of their bond that she had neglected to establish the details on the way. Louise didn't have to say anything for Tabitha to pick up on the unpleasant edge of anger mixed with panic wafting over their mingling.
Fool girl, she berated herself, losing sight of the mission in enemy territory!
"It so happens that our Princess Henrietta has been... veeeeeery naughty," he crooned.
"Cowardly spying cur! My conversation with the princess was private!" Louise made no effort to deny his accusation, however. Distressing.
"If it prevents her nuptials binding Tristain to the Old Country, what do I care?" Shock stole over Tabitha's face before she could think to suppress a response as the implications became clear. "Oh ho! I see the wannabe errant understands what the moppet does not!"
"War," she whispered in horrified awe. "You intend war." He grinned too widely, showing his back to Louise as he faced her more fully.
"Indeed! And I will have it, too, with very little effort on my part." Tabitha froze. He took a step forward, his guard full of holes, but she couldn't move, transfixed in horror.
It couldn't be... Her agile mind attacked the statement from every angle, but there was only one conclusion. He took another step, casual in his confidence.
"Knowing that the thing exists doesn't help when you don't know where it is. It's truly fortunate, then, that there were some inattentive fool who could lead me right to it!"
The weight of the confirmation of her fears hit like a cannonball, and Tabitha's stance crumbled, Derflinger's tip dropping several hands. Past his shoulder, she could see Louise's hands twitching for both her wand and dagger, face ruddy with rage that warred with her vaunted self-discipline. Tabitha hoped desperately that she would avoid rousing the monster even as he nonchalantly closed the distance, only stopping at five paces from her.
"Don't look so sad! We were having such fun earlier!" His grin stretched even further as he made exaggerated motions of coming up with a great idea. "Oh, I have it! The perfect gift to you who so generously led me to the beginning of the downfall of Tristain!" His expression turned savage. "I'm letting you live to see the results of your failure as our orchestra of battle burns it all away!"
She had no way to prepare for what came next. He seemed to blur in place. She had scarcely moved her sword in a last ditch attempt to defend when she felt his presence behind her!
"Better luck next time, little girl." He was gone before his taunting whisper even reached her ear.
So fast...
She knew then that it was too late.
She gave chase anyway.
By the time she had managed to turn, to react meaningfully at all, he was already behind Prince Wales, hauling him up by the neck and pushing him over the altar.
Step.
Using the better angle, Wardes hilted his sword through a kidney up into the chest cavity where the heart and lungs were.
Step.
He drew the blade out in a messy arc, flicking the blood off and sheathing it even as his hands blurred over the still-dying man.
Step.
Wardes plucked a piece of parchment from a hidden pocket and eyed it critically before blowing them a kiss and releasing an unincanted air hammer that blew out the rear wall.
Step.
... She had only made half of the distance to him in that time. She faltered to a stop.
The gryphon waiting for him was smaller than the one she had shot out from under him, but still plenty fast to get away. She made no further effort to prevent it. She heard muffled cries and spell fire as the guards tried in vain to halt his egress.
"A monster," she whispered. He was fast. Powerful. Skilled. Even with the blessing of the Void, she had only barely matched him while he was hampered by a heavy mask that had limited his visibility.
A deep scraping noise and a spike of alarm had her leaping back before a large section of the roof, freed by the loss of the wall and buttresses holding it up, dropped with resounding finality, burying any hope she might have had that she could stabilise the sentimental moron prince with her admittedly limited knowledge of curative magics.
She stared numbly, trying to calm her racing heart. Stiffly, she sheathed the silent Derflinger and walked out of the portal where Louise was waiting, arms hanging listless at her sides.
She was vaguely aware that some her mood was probably coming from Louise, but she didn't much care at that point. She grunted lowly as a blur of pink collided with her, arms snaking around and hauling her in.
"Tabitha! Tabitha! Are you all right! I was so worried! Viscount Wardes is an experienced square mage!" Louise's eyes were shimmering with the beginnings of a full on cry as their eyes met.
Ah, that explains it, she noted dully. No normal man could do what he had.
"Why did you fight him, he could have... he could have... h-have..." The levees eroded and the tears flowed. She buried her face in the crook of Tabitha's neck, quietly weeping.
We could have died. Or worse. By any right, we should have.
"Tabitha, Tabitha, Tabitha," Louise was repeating her name lowly, urgently.
"I'm here," she replied quietly, willing a thread of something like calm through the link between them.
"This time!" Louise had pulled back, a little, meeting her eyes with fire. "This time you survived! What happens if we meet him again!? Or someone else just as strong! Tabitha, I..." Her expression turned stricken, and she squeezed harder. "I can't lose you. I can't. I... it's..."
The vice-like hug that had pinned her arms, disappeared, leaving only a hand on her waist and another hesitantly cupping her cheek. In spite of these clear warning signs, Tabitha was still shocked when Louise's lips met her own in a searching kiss, eyes remaining resolutely open until Tabitha dumbly raised her leaden arms and pulled Louise closer against her, lids fluttering shut to focus on the sensation of a new kind of connection.