God Rising: The Cult of Ainz
Written by: AtheistBasementDragon
Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots
Chapter 192: Clashes
...Kami Miyako...Raymond's Home...
Nua woke up beneath the stairs and brought her knees to her chest. "Please. Please. Please." She said, but could not articulate the rest as she thought about her last words with Raymond. She took long, deep breaths as she came to accept that, yes, she was still alive.
She stood and touched her fingers, her hands, and then covered her heart with one hand. "It beats, I am still in this world. Hmpf, not even sure how glad about that I should really be." She said as she turned to walk out and, in a distracted moment, bumped her head and scraped off some of the skin. "Ouch... damn it!" She grumbled, and as her senses all returned to her in earnest, the full implications of it all hit her like a landslide. "Raymond..." She whispered and felt strength spring to her legs and she began to run. Her hair flew behind her as she dodged around the corners. Elves and humans looked after her with either annoyance or confusion, both of which she missed in her mad dash to know what fruit had dropped from the tree of their exchange.
She ran so quickly that she slid along the floor and barely snagged the bannister rail at the steps to stop herself from sliding too far, then used the grip to launch herself up a number of stairs. She rushed into his bedroom, and found him asleep. The dim light of the early dawn had not yet crested the horizon, but her elf eyes gave her her answer. There in the center of the floor, sat his religion's holiest text... and his knife was shoved clean through the word 'gods' on the cover. "You made your choice..." She whispered to the sleeping man through shimmering tears of happiness. "I'm glad, so very glad." She went and touched his sleeping form, her slender hand rested on his chest where he lay as if in death. His hands folded over his torso and entwined together.
She let her hands linger on his for a moment before she went to where the book lay and let her eyes linger there and the cross bladed dagger that jutted up from the floor like a tree that had grown through the book. She reached down, braced her foot on the cover, and pulled the blade out. She held the slender weapon out in front of her and cradled the flat one hand, while the other retained its loose hold on the handle.
"I can do this... one more time." Nua uttered quietly to the blade, and left the room, leaving Raymond asleep.
She went to the guest quarters, where Illal slept soundly, 'You ate him... or her. You 'ate' one of my people, you chewed that poor one's flesh and swallowed it, savored the juices and perhaps praised the chef... you deserve to die.' Nua held the knife upright so that the tip lay between her breasts and the handle lay against her belly, she placed her ear to the door and eased herself close to the handle. Silence met her from within. She could hear the sound of her breathing, her beating heart, even the little drift of hair that caught her when the breeze that blew behind her became noticeable.
She blinked and tensed. Then jumped and spun around in mid air as the cause of the 'breeze' laughed heartily, and was still laughing when Nua hit the floor.
"Going somewhere? I didn't know you liked 'older' human women 'that' way." Solution said with her monstrous grin, her eyes caught the knife in Nua's hands. "Knife play? Not for novices you know." She said dryly while she kept the enormous, inhuman smile on her face as she held her hand out. "Give it." Solution said bluntly.
Nua held the knife tightly, though she blushed as she understood what Solution was suggesting, she didn't buckle at the demand, she shook her head vigorously with tears in her eyes. "No. Please. She has to pay for what she's done. She 'ate' one of mine, at the very least she should die for it."
Solution shook her head. "You haven't been granted the right to kill that one. Besides, even by your standards, she didn't know what she was doing. Not that I mind her dying but... she has been granted tacit protection for the duration of the current crisis. I can't let you kill her, much as I'd like to watch." A vague look of disappointment crossed the face of the monster maid, but nonetheless Solution inched her hand closer. "Now give it, or I'll take it away."
Nua backed herself into the corner, the handle of the door jabbed into her back, "Please... Lady Solution..." She began to plead, only for the maid to shake her head.
"No." She answered, but a pleasant thought came to her. "But... how about if I let you have the one that gave her the elf meat? I'm sure Raymond intended her death anyway."
"I... was expecting you to say something about how she didn't deserve it... or... I don't know? Maybe tell me how it will haunt me or something, like Raymond told Neia." Nua said timidly as she clutched the blade.
Solution could not keep back her giggle of delight. "Oh Nua, I don't give a damn if she deserves it or not. I'd kill her because I'm hungry, or kill her because I enjoy it. And whether you're haunted or not is 'your' problem, not mine. My one and only concern is the will of My Lord. Anything else is irrelevant, and that one in there has at least temporary protection, so I won't let you kill her. When that's removed, I don't care if you skin her alive, all the way down to the bone."
Nua swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat when her heart leaped into it. "I... see. And... if you were allowed to do it to me?"
Solution shrugged indifferently. "I put some work into you and I'd hate to see it wasted, but never forget what I am, because that will not change. Now give... me... that... knife. I'll give it back to you when I take you to kill the other bitch."
Nua relaxed her grip and held it out by the blade, allowing Solution to take it by the handle. It slipped slowly, reluctantly from Nua's hand, slightly cutting two fingers as it was taken from her. "Good." Solution said succinctly and inclined her head toward the steps, "Go to the kitchen, prepare Raymond something to eat, he's had a long night."
"A long night?" Nua asked as the words registered with her. "What do you mean? What happened?"
Solution rubbed her temple with her thumb and forefinger and shut her eyes tight in dismay. "You're as dense as I am sadistic, I swear. Fine, fine, fine. After you left to go bury Illal's last meal, I had a little fun with him. I tortured his mind for... quite some time, about your little ultimatum. Kind of did him a favor I guess, you forget, he grew up here. That religion was 'his' all the way to his bones, he devoted his whole life to it. You demanded he choose, it might not have been intended, but it was the most beautifully sadistic thing you could have done to him. Maybe even more painful than what I did." She slipped the dagger into her body and held it within, then took Nua's hands in hers and enveloped them, without burning her.
"You might as well have asked him to cut off a limb, but he did it, I might not 'care' much, but that doesn't mean I don't understand what he felt or how. It's kind of funny, really." The beautiful smile that spread over her face, reminded Nua of the ecstatic bliss of the twins used by Hodge, and she struggled, then failed to suppress her shudder.
...Kami Miyako...The Home of Dominic...
Misu woke up staring into a face she didn't know but which wore an expression she'd seen many times. Indifference. 'He does not care if I live or die... still, a step up from killing me for meat.' She thought as she suppressed a shudder.
"So, you live." He said patiently. He sat on a couch a few inches away from her and rested his forearms on his knees with his fingertips pressed together and palms apart.
"I... do. Are... Are you Cardinal Dominic, Sir?" Misu asked hopefully. The warmth of the burning flames of the fire washed over her beneath the thick trio of blankets, a wiggle of her fingers and toes beneath the blanket told her that they were going to remain intact, and briefly she wondered if some magic had been used to heal her.
"The same. Care to explain what you were doing running to my home in the middle of the night wearing nothing but a single thick coat?" He asked with an edge to his voice, and he subtly leaned closer over her fearful face.
"Sir... Cardinal... the Cardinal, Yvon, he was my master, our master. But he's gone mad! Completely mad!" Misu restrained herself from shrieking as she felt the rising anger from the human sitting over her.
"Explain, and be quick about it, slave." Dominic said abruptly.
Wetness filled her eyes and emotions of sorrow and loss rose up within that she couldn't keep back. "He had us... all of us, all the slaves in his manor, slaughtered! He killed us, had the bodies taken to the kitchen and defleshed, he turned us into food!" She sobbed. "My friends... my older brother..." She wailed lightly, and though he gave no sign on his face of caring, she did see his hands ball into fists.
"Why would he need that much 'meat'?" Dominic's voice was tainted with suspicion, "He couldn't eat that much in a year. Not even with all his human servants helping."
"Sir... he... the soldiers, he had soldiers do the killing, they ate us... ate us..." She blubbered out the barely coherent words, and Dominic folded his hands together as if in prayer, then extended his forefingers and brought them together and covered his lips as if to shush himself as he thought.
His eyes held onto her like he was sizing up prey, and Misu clenched herself tightly to keep from pissing herself from renewed fear. "Please... believe me." She whimpered quietly.
"And how did you escape, if everyone was killed?" Dominic asked calmly.
"M-My older brother, he knew of a shaft in the l-library. Hid me in there by moving a bookshelf, I w-waited in there till last night. Then I got down, a human who served in Cardinal Yvon's home, he gave me the coat and told me how to get here, he said to warn you what was happening. I listened to the cardinal's rant, from my hiding place. He intends to overthrow you, b-because you see us as something more th-than food. P-Please... is it true, that you do not eat us?" Misu jumped to the question she most craved answer to, and the low shaking that the heat could not eliminate, redoubled.
"I banned that barbaric practice. Your kind are slaves, but you are not as lowly as some beasts." Dominic replied as he shook his head with denial.
"D-Do you believe me, sir?" She asked desperately.
"I actually do. And before you ask, I won't be sending you back to Yvon, because there will be no Yvon to send you back to." Dominic responded and stood out. "Not for long anyway..." He began in a calm voice, then his temper flashed as rage broke through the calm facade he'd previously held and the urge to violence overwhelmed him, and he shot over the girl and slammed his fist into the fireplace, shattering the stone around them, "because I'll kill that treacherous bastard!"
Misu began to relax and her breathing grew easier. "And... what will happen? To me, I mean?" She asked in a little voice as his fist withdrew, coated with dust and embedded tiny stones in his knuckles.
"I suppose you can stay here, I'll have them fit you with suitable slave dress, and set to light duty while I bring order about." Dominic replied after a moment's hesitation.
"Master, as you say... should I... wait or?" She let her eyes go to the blanket that had replaced her coat and felt her breath quicken.
She needn't have asked, he waved her off with indifference, "It's fine, wait there, you don't know the way around my manor, and I have other things to do." He said with a barely controlled snarl as he considered the tale of treason she had carried to his ears. She closed her eyes and lay quiet as he left her alone and began shouting for his slaves to come and attend his orders.
...Yvon's Manor...
"So three took their own lives?" Yvon asked his butler as he scratched his head while sitting up in bed as the day dawned. "Why would they do that?"
"Sir... I... I think they sympathized with the dead animals, each of the three was known to be more... 'gentle' in handling them than others." The butler, a slender man of grey hair and stiff voice that matched his wrinkled face and equally stiff posture, said reluctantly.
Yvon's face changed instantly, from a hint of unhappiness to callousness. "Then forget them, fools die the deaths of fools, and for doing something so stupid, they should be mocked. May as well kill themselves over a dead cow or pig, as over those animals. Livestock is livestock." He grumbled with annoyance.
"Yes sir, but on the other matter, no soldiers have arrived at your call." The butler replied as he set a tray of oatmeal, a pair of biscuits, and a sausage that could have only one origin, in front of his master.
"None?" Yvon asked with a sudden sense of anxiety, his eyes opened wider as he cut the cooked sausage and slid a piece into the first biscuit.
"No, Sir. It's only a handful of officers, they represent companies of common soldiers, and they pledge their loyalty. They have consumed the meat you gave so generously, and will serve loyally in return for food to sustain themselves." The butler let his smile sit comfortably on his own face at the manner in which he'd conveyed the good news.
Yvon received it well, laughing slightly as he dunked the biscuit into the oatmeal. "You had me for a minute there Yalos, just for a minute, but you had me. Excellent news, have them ready to raid Dominic's home tonight, and have them send some scouts out to watch his home. He never goes anywhere, so that should be easy. However, I have no doubt that he's well guarded nonetheless. And besides, he was a scripture member, once. When night falls, he does."
"As you wish, Cardinal." Yalos replied with a perfect small bow as he took up his master's tray when the meal was finished, and made his way out of the room to carry out his instructions.
...Ruins of Wheaton...
Tuare held the hand of her husband as tightly as she could as they stepped through the gate and found themselves amidst Neia's handiwork. Proud towers were broken ruins, clean streets still had black ash blowing about amidst the snow. Tuare looked up at the Butler of Steel beside her, "Sebas... I'm frightened..."
"There is no need to be afraid, my love. She won't hurt you, nobody here will, and our Lord would not have you go and do what you could not." Sebas said with the patient strength that had so endeared him to her. She let her look to him fall away into a determined nod.
"I... suppose she would be in there." Tuare pointed ahead of her to the building that was still intact.
"The manor of the city's governor, yes." Sebas said as he looked around for himself. Freezing winds howled down empty streets, and the only indications that anyone had been left alive, were the scattered rising plumes of smoke from buildings around the ruined city, as well as the occasional heavily clothed human commoner.
"No children." Tuare said with a quiet rising horror in her voice.
"What?" Sebas asked her as they began to walk through the snow, her enchanted red cloak was keeping the cold at bay, so her voice was clear, but her meaning was lost on him.
"There are no children." Tuare clarified and swept her hand out to encompass the view. "Husband, remember what life I came from. Children work too, it's vital for families to survive, that everybody work. We see the occasional adult, but no children. Even in these conditions, we should see at least a few... did she... did she kill all of them too?" Tuare's body shook despite not feeling a bit of the winter cold, and Sebas drew her close.
"That is not the way of our merciful Lord." Sebas said confidently as the reached the steps.
They approached the steps of the manor and went up to where two elven guards in full kit stood watch. "Name and purpose?" The guards said in unison, but before an answer could be given, the great double doors parted, and Zesshi Zetsumei exited and stood in front of them. Clad in the white command armor given to her by the Sorcerer King, it had numerous etchings on it that artfully tied in to the runes engraved onto it by the dwarven runesmiths, though she was not greatly taller than Tuare, to the human girl she felt as if she had to crane her neck to look up at the black and white eyes and bound black and white hair. She looked over her shoulder at the guards, "I've got these two, I've been expecting them." She said to the black armored elves.
"Ma'am!" They answered in unified response.
Zesshi waved them forward, the doors reopened, and the Queen of the Elves led them in.
"Your soldiers are disciplined." Sebas said with a polite compliment.
"Those aren't mine. Those are Neia's. I believe those two were part of a group called 'The Vines', they alternate with a group called 'The Blood Miners'. They're Wenmark survivors." Zesshi replied, but smiled slightly as they walked on. "I will make sure they hear of your compliment however, it's funny, do you know how they settled on the guard shifts?"
"How?" Tuare asked as they walked the hall of the blood stained manor, she focused as much as she could on the white armored back of the odd looking general.
"Duels, or bouts, I guess would be a better word. They couldn't decide who was going to guard the Pope, so they set up a ring and had boxing matches, ten best against the ten best, and it came out a draw, so they take alternating days. Hard to believe they were ever just slaves. They were wasted on that kind of life." Zesshi remarked as they came to a set of stairs and began to ascend.
"Oh." Tuare said quietly.
"You disapprove?" Zesshi asked at the answer.
"N-No, it's just... why that way?" She asked demurely, letting her eyes fall to the carpet in front of her.
"I was wondering that myself," Zesshi replied as she opened up a large door at the top of the stairs, "so I asked Neia why she didn't just order one of them, I rather liked her answer."
"Which was?" Sebas asked with a hint of curiosity in his inflection.
"They like to remind themselves that they have a right to fight for what they want. If that keeps their spirits up, then a little mana spent on healing spells is a price well paid for good morale." Zesshi recited with a prideful voice. "A sentiment I like to remember, nothing does the broken spirit better than feeling strong enough to fight back, I've begun incorporating it into my own ranks, with positive results."
"L-Like what?" Tuare asked as she wrung her hands in front of herself.
"You have to understand, most of the elves under my command lived longer lives in chains than several human lifetimes, you don't come back from that overnight. Hatred was their only real drive, and obeying humans rankled, even if they were humans who broke their chains. They practically worship Neia, but she's still human. One thing she and I agree on, is that we can't build a people up just on hatred, so I borrowed a page from her book. I went with the next best thing. Pride. His Majesty's religion encourages the pursuit of personal excellence, and simple self respect, pride in their heritage and skills have been cultivated by contests. We grant awards, accolades and renown within our ranks for progress in a field. Not to mention courage and cunning in battle, Taken all together, these have rekindled the spark of life in a broken people. Little by little they have come back from the abyss, and of course... victory. Victory is the ultimate balm. If they were forced to fight another war against the Slane Theocracy as it used to be, but without the idiocy of my late father at the helm, I wouldn't put the same odds on a human victory."
They didn't need to see Zesshi's face to know she wore a predatory and wolfish grin.
"Where are the children?" Tuare suddenly spat out. "What did you do with the children of Wheaton?" Tuare asked again when silence was not immediately broken by an answer.
"The ones who survived the fall of the city, were all removed by order of General Baraja." Zesshi replied evenly.
"R-Removed? Removed where?" Tuare asked in a quivering tone, her eyes fixed on the back of the Queen.
"I don't know, far to the North, likely to the heart of the Sorcerer King's domain to be fostered out, or put into the orphanages that sprang up around Re-Estize, or the ones in the Baharuth Empire. Likely some went east to the Draconic Kingdom, but that's just a guess on my part." Zesshi said uncaringly.
"T-Taking them away from their parents...?" Tuare began only to freeze in place when Zesshi looked at her with a sudden coldness.
Sebas, without thinking, stepped slightly in front of her.
"Most of their parents are dead." Zesshi said succinctly. "I was here, remember. The ones who live, would be lucky to have gotten even just their lives. All I can tell you is that they're all gone from this city, the young held to the promise of their surviving family's good behavior. The rest to remain where they're sent to be raised as citizens under the Sorcerer King. Neither General Baraja or myself plan on making the mistake General Emmot-Bareare made."
"M-Mistake?" Tuare asked shakily as they got to walking again.
"Yes. The people of the Theocracy may be good to their own, but if you're not one of them, they're either at your feet or at your throat. There will be no rebellion here, or in the west, or in the east, like there was in the North. Aalon all but destroyed Feron, Leinas and her entourage simply made their enemies run themselves to death, Draudillon used terror and shame, while Neia and I... well, we're in agreement on these kinds of measures. They will not rise behind us when we leave to destroy their capital." Zesshi said as they entered the main hall.
"No, no they will not." Neia said from the throne of the former ruler of Wheaton.
Behind her at her right and left hands were Skana and CZ, and even a glance at them told Sebas that they agreed with Neia's sentiments. As Zesshi came close, Neia stood and descended from the seat of power and extended her hand to the Queen. They clasped forearms, "Queen Zesshi." Neia said warmly.
"Pope Neia." Zesshi replied with equal warmth.
"Hell of a conference." Neia remarked casually.
"All conferences are hell, I hate meetings." Zesshi said sarcastically, prompting a laugh from the Pope as they broke their grips.
"You're going to have to get used to those." Neia remarked with a smirk.
"Maybe, but I never have to like them." Zesshi said with an emphatic denial.
"Fair enough, but join my wife and I for dinner tonight, we can talk about how our temples can help your homeland recover." Neia said enthusiastically.
"I look forward to it." Zesshi said and stood aside, "For now though, they've come to see you, now if you'll excuse me, I should check in with Cenna and the others and see how they're holding up." She said and moved along, leaving Neia behind.
Neia felt her sky-blue eyes go from bright as candles in the dark only a moment ago, to being dulled as if burning out. "Please... come with me. I'll show you to your room for the night myself, we're leaving here in a day or two, once General Enri has removed the only barrier to her march, we'll all arrive at Kami Miyako together in the largest coordinated siege in history."
The couple politely inclined their heads. "We are in your care, General." Sebas said in the courteous way he always did, while Tuare inched closer to him and he put his arm comfortably around her waist as she silently looked on. Neia did her very best not to flinch when the little peasant maid did so.
She wore a stoic expression and looked over to her wife, "Vice Commander Skana, handle things for me for a few minutes, I'll return soon."
"Of course, General." Skana said stiffly, clenching her fingers behind her and holding her erect posture as if she were a statue.
The look between them lingered only a fraction of a second longer than it needed to, but then it was broken, and Neia led the way through the room full of officers and representatives from the four armies that represented four parts of the world. She moved easily through the numbers of chattering figures with eyes for only a single goal, the door on the other side. She moved with swift and even steps, only a little faster than made sense for the occasion.
Tuare felt her feet beneath her scurrying along, her hold on her husband had been reduced to merely holding his hand, but that hold was tight as her heart beat quickly in the presence of the terrifying general.
It was only when they passed through the door that Neia began to slow her pace, and after a few minutes walking through the hall, Sebas noted the way his wife's gaze lingered anxiously on the many blood stains, and asked, "Why have you not had the blood removed? I know you have magic users capable of something so simple."
Neia didn't look back, or answer the question, instead she asked one of her own. "May I offer a brief detour, I believe something is owed that cannot be collected or given in your quarters."
Sebas and Tuare traded a questioning glance, and when she smiled encouragingly and squeezed his hand, he answered for them, "Yes... I suppose that is alright."
"Good, then we'll be going this way." She replied, and led them down the right path at the next fork in the hall, and eventually out into a large open chamber.
"This is a training room. Why did you bring us here?" Sebas asked as Neia went to the wall and set her sword side, as well as removing her live arrows and replacing them with ones tipped with balls of hardened sap.
"I owe your wife ten thousand lives." Neia said in a voice as empty as the great training room in which they now stood. Dummy equipment sat at various intervals along the walls, wooden swords, blunted axes, blunted blades, staves and retracting knives with dulled edges and rounded tips. "But you are her husband, and also, I would not be me, without your dedicated training. I didn't just hurt her, I betrayed you. I owe you satisfaction. So?" She said questioningly, as she took up a blunted sword, "A duel then. It would not please our Lord for us to fight to the death. So instead let it be only until one of us cannot rise. Is that agreeable?"
Sebas narrowed his eyes, "Do you think you can win?"
Neia shook her head. "No, but it doesn't matter. I will do my damnedest to do so, this isn't a matter of reason, or logic, victory or defeat. This is simply honor, you fight to defend the ones you love, or to avenge them if they are harmed. I harmed her, accidentally maybe, but I am responsible for my actions. Besides, it is your job to do what you can to make this right. Same as it is mine." She swung a practice blade a few times in front of her.
"I... I don't need this." Tuare responded gently, "I don't need more violence. Not over me, I've seen too much violence. You don't need to do anything for me, don't need to fight like this." She clutched her hands together in front of her chest as if in prayer as she spoke her denials.
Sebas's stoic face did not break. "If my wife says this, it must be true."
Neia smiled gently, a little life coming to her dulled eyes. "If there is a better soul than yours out there, I've never seen it, Tuare. But with your permission, I would ask that you allow the duel. It is a matter of warrior's honor, nobody should ever be alive to say they hurt the wife of the Butler of Steel, and got away clean, even if..." her smile became wry and self deprecating, "the one in question would never make the boast, and will regret the act for the rest of her life."
Tuare's eyes wavered, and then her hands fell away from her breast and down to her sides, "If that is necessary, I don't understand war or warriors, I never will and I never want to. But if it will help... 'somehow', th-then I permit it."
Sebas went to his wife and took her shoulders in his hands, then leaned down and kissed her forehead. Tuare closed her eyes and all but melted, before stiffening up and stepping back out of the way.
The two faced one another from twenty paces distance. "Will this do?" Sebas asked.
Neia gave a grave nod, "You remember. I shouldn't be surprised, alright then." She took out her bow and looked over to Tuare, "At your ready, Lady Tuare." She said calmly.
Tuare took a deep breath, and as it came out she said a soft, "B-Begin."
[Speed of Death], [Death Grip], [Death's Endurance], [Call of the Grave], [Ability Boost], [Agility Boost] Neia activated her martial arts as fast as she could and drew her bow even faster, she spent a third of her quiver just charging the Butler of Steel, but he moved his hands with the grace of a conductor, as if he were guiding a symphony in front of him. The arrows clattered away uselessly.
Neia came close, and remembering her first fight against him over a year earlier, she flashed the blade out, her eyes were already dark as night, the crude iron bent as he blocked the blow with his wrist alone. She dropped and spun the other way to strike him behind the knee with the bent weapon, he lifted his leg, letting it pass harmlessly beneath and, pulling his punch, he brought the blow toward Neia's body.
She went with the spinning arc he'd allowed her to finish and used the momentum to roll herself out of the way, drop the blade, draw her bow, and fire three more arrows at his head as she came back in to kick him in the chest. She may as well have kicked a mountain.
He brought his other hand up, then down in a chopping gesture, only she used his unbroken posture to push herself off, and flew backwards, bounced off her hands, and landed with a bounce to her feet. "You have improved. Over a year ago, you'd have been finished."
"That one I learned from Skana, she's the acrobat. I'm... better at this." Neia launched herself in again, using the last of her arrows, she cast aside the bow and let him launch another of his impossible punches, she grabbed his wrist with death's grip and tried to fling him off balance, only to find that... again, a mountain would have been an easier object to move.
His next blow struck, hard. It caught her shoulder and sent her bouncing away, she got up, her narrow eyes free of any pain, blood on her lip, she wiped it away. 'He's going easy on me.' The rational part of her mind said, but that part of her was rapidly dying.
Another charge, this time she took advantage of the opening he'd given, not to attack, but to move to where the weapons were and draw two more practice blades, before returning to re-engage. She used one in her left hand, and continued to deflect his minor blows as her hunger for violence continued to drive away her rational mind.
'I see. So this is it.' Sebas thought to himself, he could feel the rising fury within her as she drew deeper and deeper from within, and lost her outer self. He continued to let her deflect, and deflected her attacks high and low with ease. 'She has grown far from then... blows that should have finished her... she no longer seems to feel. Those martial arts... the undead do not tire, the undead are relentless, the undead are filled with unquenchable rage and hatred... I see... I will have to report this to Demiurge.' He thought to himself, and landed a firm blow against her solar plexus, enough to kill a normal man, he felt bones crack beneath her skin, but instead she only threw the weapon to her other hand and used it to strike his side beneath the arm. It bent like the last one.
'So this is what did all those things...' Tuare pondered as she watched the small human in her signature green armor hammer in futility against the Butler of Steel, but refuse to fall as if pain meant nothing. 'She's not even breathing hard, how much longer can she go on?' Tuare wondered as a another strike sent her bouncing halfway across the training hall, only to stand back up again. 'Till she dies... she'll go till she dies, or until something snaps her out of it!' Tuare realized fearfully.
Neia was rising to her feet, her eyes empty of anything but the endless dark, she was again charging toward the Butler of Steel, but with empty hands. Her legs and arms pumped and she ate up the ground like a fire raced the wind through dry grass.
'I see. She must be stopped now, before she goes too far.' Sebas thought to himself, 'How best to do this? Killing intent? No. She would need to face something like Our Lord's for that. Command authority... yes, she was used to obeying me before.' He thought to himself, and as she came within the last thirty feet, he struck the posture of an instructor. His hands folded tight behind his back, his feet together at the heels, he shouted firmly, "Exercise over! Fall in!" in the same voice that she'd heard a thousand times and a thousand times again. His perfect and noble voice jabbed like a bolt of lightning shattering through the darkness, and illuminated the shadowy world in which the Black Paladin had cast herself.
Though she did not stop instantly, she quickly slowed until she staggered to within arms reach of him, and he reached out, and putting his hand up to her head, he drew his middle finger into his palm, held tense there by his thumb, and flicked her in the center of her forehead, sending her onto her back, splayed out and sore and coughing up blood.
Sebas knelt close to her, remembering a conversation with Pestonya about how to handle a mind lost to the bloodlust of the past. He took off his coat, and put it over the fallen paladin. "You are not there. You are not in combat. You are in a training hall, safe, there is no fight and no danger. Everyone is alright, you... are alright." He went on, letting her clutch the coat he placed over her body, his voice as low, and gentle.
'It's like when he talked to me… back then, or, those times I relive them. She's me, she's just like me…' Tuare thought to herself with a swelling of pity when she caught a glimpse of the haunted blue eyes.
He looked behind him to where Tuare stood watching the unfamiliar actions. "Bring me the water skin from the wall, please." He asked her politely, and within moments, it was in hand as she stood a few feet away to observe.
Sebas popped the cork and offered it out to the defeated opponent. "Drink." He said as he looked at the torn up face of Neia Baraja. She looked for a moment as if she might refuse, but at his insistent nod, she opened her lips and let him pour it into her mouth.
'What is this? How can 'she' be like me?' Tuare wondered, the untiring monster, that shrugged off killing blows, broken bones, and swung iron hard enough to have it bend, was now a shaking, heavy breathing, terrorized and broken mess, lost to the world around her until her 'target' began to draw her back to reality with gentle guidance.
When she seemed herself again, albeit bleeding from numerous injuries incurred by bouncing and scraping along the floor, she finally spoke.
"Ouch." Neia uttered as she wiped her lips with her forearm. "I think..." She said as she started to breathe hard, "I think you won that one, Butler of Steel."
Sebas approached in two broad steps and bending over at the waist, looked down at her. "I did, and I now understand a fragment of your problem."
Neia laughed and coughed up some more blood, "I can give you a full accounting, cracked ribs, lots of bruises, might have lost a few teeth too... a concussion... or three. Might be some lung tissue in that blood too, could you... grab one of those healing potions from the cabinet over there?" Neia asked and flopped her arm in the direction she intended.
Tuare didn't wait on Sebas, she scurried to the cabinet, opened it, drew out a bottle and, running to where Neia lay, she poured it over the Black Paladin.
"I broke one of your bones... your husband broke about thirty of mine." Neia said from down on the floor and forced a bloody smile as the potion took effect. "I'm not a merchant, but I think Tinamoc would say your husband has repaid it with interest." She said from the floor as she started to move slightly.
Tuare shook her head, "If that is what warrior's honor is, yes. But I am no less terrified of being alone with you now, than I was an hour ago, this gave me nothing." She said softly, 'Nothing but an understanding that only confuses me more, at least.' She mused.
Neia nodded gravely as she started to sit up, "I will pay your price, and I am not asking you to forgive me, or to forget what I did."
Sebas stuck out a hand, and Neia, after a moment's hesitation, took it and allowed her one time teacher to help her up. "It was not, however, without use. The basis of your abilities, the reason behind your battle mania, and the bloodlust therein. It is because of your status as a Black Paladin. All your unique arts are based on death and the undead, and so you carry their traits to an ever greater degree as you apply them. This is furthered by your... experience, with certain events."
"So... undead nature in a living body that is already full of rage? Isn't that a glorious thought." Neia said with a mixture of amusement, pride, and resignation. Her left eye twitched for a moment as she spoke. "I suppose that makes sense but... what do I do with that knowledge? How do I keep from... what do I even call that?" Neia asked as she retrieved her sword and arrows from where she'd discarded them. "A berserker state? Blood drunk? Frenzy?" She sheathed her sword, hard. It echoed slightly off the walls for a few seconds before going silent, like the rest of them.
"Now please, follow me, your room is close by." Neia said as the silence drew on, and she led them back the way they'd come. The pair followed the restored woman back to the fork in the hallway, and down the left path they went until they reached a door. "It's clean inside. I promise. And... Sebas, you asked a question earlier, and I'm sorry I ignored it. I didn't have the blood cleaned, because all this 'happened'. That... that time I saw father, when he put his cloak over Illyana's body and it was stained with her blood, he didn't remove it. Yes, he could have used a cleansing spell and erased the stain, but it would be like erasing the event."
Neia wiped her eyes and barely kept back the trembling of her lips, "Tuare, you may think I keep it this way as some kind of... love of blood, but it isn't. It is so this is remembered. As my beloved father let the blood of a slave linger on his precious garment so that it could not be forgotten, so I have left every stain of victory in place. Victory is a filthy, filthy thing, and I won't let that become an afterthought in some half drunk, lazy bard's story two years from now. I hope you can understand."
'Such is the greatness and compassion of our Lord.' Sebas thought to himself with pride.
She reached out and turned the handle, then pushing open the door, she pointed inward with one hand. "Please, take your ease, both of you. I'll have a servant sent later to attend to your needs until we depart."
For a moment, neither of the couple moved as they considered Neia's answer, then without another word, they entered and shut the door behind them, leaving Neia to return to her duties without them.