Insert apology here about taking so long. Just been real lacking motivation lately. Dunno what made me wanna write this again but I finished it up in one day, so that's something :) Slightly shorter word count but I did my best to actually advance the plot and characters this time.
Raziel rolled to the side and just barely avoided the blade that stabbed through where his head just lay. In his right hand he held Derflinger's sheath, having grabbed him as soon as he heard the warning, while his left hand clenched tightly and spasmed with dark energy, the chain corroding with corrupted energy. More and more he found himself using Manus' powers on instinct despite Derflinger's attempts to the contrary.
The figure in front of him only came as half a surprise, "Ciaran..." He'd expected her to take Alsanna's presence poorly, especially given her reaction days prior, but he'd always assumed her sense of pragmatism and care for Tiffania would outweigh any grudge or hate she held towards him. Perhaps he had overestimated her. Once a fanatic always a fanatic.
There were no words of warning or vindication. Instead she pulled the golden tracer from the sleeping bag and stood back up quietly. Raziel's eyes narrowed. Her movements were...odd. Stiff, but not in the controlled measures the assassin usually had. It reminded him more of the golems Guiche possessed.
A shuffle of movement came from his left side, "Raziel, what's-"
"Siesta, run!" He took his eyes off the masked assassin for just a moment but it was long enough for her to close the distance. He barely heard Siesta scream before he turned back and saw the silver arc or her right tracer aimed right for his head.
He dodged back and hissed at the cut on his left cheek, blood dripping down the pale skin to the bottom of his chin. Even when he was an Undead he wasn't truly immune to poisons and the toxins in the Lorsdblade's weapon far surpassed the garden variety venoms a normal kind of assassin could procure. Already he could feel the corrosive toxin eating away at his flesh.
"...This is your last chance, Ciaran." He unsheathed Derflinger and held him ready as the assassin lowered herself in another combat stance. It was a small mercy that she'd chosen to pay no mind to Siesta who had quickly taken his advice and disappeared out of sight, "Sheath your weapon and curb your rage. We have more to worry about than old grudges."
She charged towards him, both blades swinging. Raziel followed the arc of the blades and, just before they made contact, raised Derflinger to block the golden tracer while he stopped the silver blade with the side of the chain. He twisted Derflinger, deflecting the smaller blade to the side before twisting him again and raising him upwards in a powerful slash.
Ciaran leaned back nimbly to avoid the attack and placed more distance between them. She lowered her stance to an almost crouch while Raziel held Derflinger with both hands. Attack or defend? Ciaran was the weakest of the Four Knights and her skills relied more on precision and speed than the overwhelming power of her former compatriots. Even Artorias at his weakest easily trumped her ins strength.
That didn't mean she wasn't just as deadly, however.
The silent assassin suddenly charged towards him. Just as they were about to clash she suddenly slipped past him faster than he could react and sliced his back, "Ngh." He turned and attempted to strike her with his left fist only for her to duck and slash his chest with a mockingly graceful twirl.
Blood poured down from the cut and he growled. One blade was poisoned and the other was enchanted (cursed) to draw blood even more than it's edge would indicate - all the better for her targets to bleed out. Not a problem when he was still a normal Undead but now with his body filled with the coppery crimson it was...tiresome. And distracting.
She went for another stab, this time to the side of his neck, but he was faster. He grabbed her wrist inches from contact and headbutted her. She stumbled back from the force of the blow and he slashed her stomach.
Golden blood flowed from the deep cut and yet again she remained silent as she pressed her right against the gaping wound. The bright yellow ichor dripped between her fingers, shining eerily in the darkness that surrounded them.
She suddenly spun and kicked him right in the jaw. Normally he would've been able to hold his ground from such a desperate attack but instead he found himself forced onto his back. Gritting his teeth, he rubbed his jaw and glared at Ciaran's retreating back as she ran into the burnt out remains of Tarbes. Retreating? No, that wasn't something she did. Trying to gain an advantage.
From his left side he heard Siesta's panicked voice, "Raziel, are you-"
"I am fine." He stabbed Derflinger to the ground and pulled himself, "Stay here. I will deal with this."
"But-"
"Do not argue." He turned to her briefly, just long enough to see the look of shock and fear in her eyes, before looking away again, "It is me she wants. Stay here and she will not harm you." After all, she only murdered innocents when she saw a point to it.
He tightened his grip on Derflinger and chased after the former knight. A more naive individual might suggest he retreat but he wasn't so foolish. Turning your back to someone like Ciaran was nothing more than invitation for her to place a knife in it and he wasn't going to make that mistake again. However this night ended they wouldn't both walk out of Tarbes.
"Hold up, partner, something's wrong," Derflinger said.
"She has chosen her hatred over survival. I see nothing 'wrong' here." Raziel scoffed.
"Yeah? Well I do. Don't you see she's acting odd? The quiet, not to mention how strong she is? A kick like that you'd just ignore but suddenly she knocks you flat on your ass? This ain't normal, not by a longshot."
"Make your theories later, Derflinger. Right now focus on the task at hand." Raziel's pace slowed as he neared the remaining intact structures. Many of them were burned, the wood blackened and collapsed to nothing more than wreckage, but a few like the inn had remained standing, albeit in a dilapidated state due its abandonment. Just another reminder of what they faced in the coming days.
A warning Ciaran chose to ignore.
"Where are you..." Raziel's eyes narrowed. His new abilities benefited his abilities in the darkness but Ciaran was still an assassin. Even in Manus' memories she had landed more than a few blows against him due to her skill alone.
Being here in the village did him no favors. Shadows danced under the red and blue moon while the clustered buildings seemed to taunt him with how much they covered. He preferred open fields where neither combatant could hide. He still had nightmares sometimes of those damn sewers or the winding halls of the Undead Burg where the walls were so narrow and clustered together that he often found his blows hitting stone.
"This is eerie," Derflinger said, "Been through some creepy shit in my time but abandoned villages always gives me the chills."
"Focus." A shadow darted between two burnt out houses. Raziel burned a ball of dark flame in his left hand and used it as a makeshift torch as he stepped forward, "Hiding is pointless, Ciaran," he called out. Nothing but shadows greeted him, "There is no point to this conflict. Whichever one of us succeeds brings us no closer to ending what comes. I have seen it happen. What happened to Oolacile it pales in comparison to what came after to Lordran. That is what awaits this land as well if we do not change our fate."
A drop of water landed on his bloodied cheek and he looked up with a scowl at the coming rain. It would only play to her advantage. He had to end this qui-
A flash of metal passed by the side of his vision just before a small dagger impaled itself on his left shoulder. Raziel pulled it out with a small hiss and caught sight of a figure ducking inside the inn. Fine, no more talking.
He kicked the door down and stepped inside. The interior was remarkably preserved, all things considered. Apart from the thick coat of dust and the slight signs of disrepair it didn't look like a building that had been through a warzone, "Hm..." He stepped past the closet door and suppressed a frown. He still remembered this place. Pillaging corpses of their bones in order to take the Humanity they held. It seemed almost humane compared to some of the others things he'd done since then.
Footsteps from above. Small bits of dust rained down from the ceiling and he raised the makeshift torch higher as he ascended the steps. Ciaran wasn't the hardiest opponent he'd fought but she was still a demigod. He needed to be certain of her breathing her last.
He kicked the doors down to each and every room and checked inside. Nothing but shadows. Did she leave through one of the windows, perhaps? Shaking his head, he continued to check each and every room till he landed at the one at the end of the hall.
One last thud echoed across the hallway as the door fell off its hinges and landed on the floor. The room was a tad larger than the others but apart from that there was nothing to differentiate it from the rest. "Not here..." Did she really escape somewhere else? It would've been trivial for someone with her skills.
He stepped closer to the window cautiously. The light of the twin moons were dimmed by a passing cloud, shrouding the room in even more darkness. He didn't like the idea of going back out the normal way so jumping down seemed the better option.
The clouds passed and, just for a moment, he saw silver and gold flash faintly through the dirtied glass. Raziel turned and raised Derflinger just in time to block both tracers, "Ngh..." Ciaran pushed him back against the window, again showing the same abnormal strength as before, and he heard the sounds of cracking glass behind him.
This wasn't a good place to fight.
Raziel deflected both blades then grabbed her by the scruff of her armor. She struggled for just an instant before he shoved her through the window. Ciaran grabbed him in turn as she fell and they both landed, struggling and fighting, at the unforgiving dirt.
They rolled around briefly till Ciaran managed to right herself and kick him back. He impacted roughly on his hands and knees and when he looked up Ciaran was already stabbing the gold tracer down again.
The blade was impaled through his right hand and pinned him to the ground. Raziel screamed at the sudden torrent of blood that came from the wound and had to force himself to look up again as Ciaran raised the other blade.
He unfurled the corrupted chain and wrapped it around her right wrist. Her head snapped to the captured limb just before he pulled and, with a sickening crack, her arm was twisted at a horrific angle and the silver tracer flew out of her grasp.
This time she did scream, albeit faintly, and he forced himself to ignore the odd echo in her cadence. He had more important things to worry about.
Raziel clenched his left hand a line of corrupted flame ran up the chain till it too engulfed her wrist. The dark fire burned her flesh and she stumbled back with another faint scream. Raziel let the chain fell and used his now-free hand to remove the gold tracer from his impaled palm. He stood shakily, hand still bleeding waves of crimson even as the drops of rain washed it away, and picked up Derflinger with his left hand.
Time to finish this.
He charged ahead to impale her till he heard the faint sound of...wings? "What in the..." Wings, so dark they might as well have been made of shadow, spurted from Ciaran's back. A sudden feeling of familiarity hit him like knife in the gut but he didn't get the chance to say anymore before she was on him.
The wings slashed him as if they were blades and he felt them cut through his skin. Rather than poison or bleeding he felt the telltale curse of the occult spread through his body. His vision swam and he stumbled back on shakily legs when Ciaran's hands morphed into a grotesque shape and she continued her attack. It was only when the misshapen digits were inches from his face that he noticed her hands had turned into crow's talons.
Sharp claws cut through his face and the vision on his left eye swam with red for a moment then turned black. He didn't even hear Derflinger's screaming warnings as Ciaran suddenly pushed him to the ground, hands around his neck and drawing even more blood. The wings wrapped around them both like a blanket and he felt his strength continue to wane more and more as the seconds passed.
His vision nearly blackened entirely when Ciaran suddenly screamed and turned back. Raziel looked past her and felt what little of remaining blood run cold at what he saw. Siesta stood there, eyes wide and frozen stiff with a gaping expression. In her shaking hands was Ciaran's fallen gold tracer and even through the material's color he saw the bright yellow ichor that lined the surface.
She'd come to help him.
"S-Siesta, ru-"
Ciaran grabbed the tracer from her hands and, with disgusting ease, stabbed her clean through the stomach. For a moment there was just silence and in what felt like an eternity he saw the flashes of expression on Siesta's face. Her already wide eyes opened even more and when she opened her mouth to scream nothing but drops of blood escaped her lips. The horrific sight remained frozen in his vision. Siesta, the blade, the drops of rain...
And then suddenly time moved forward again and Siesta's crumpled to the ground in a bloody heap.
"Siesta!"
Ciaran turned back just as Raziel wrapped the chain around her neck and slammed her to the ground. Fire engulfed the linked metal and she choked as the flesh started to burn. With his free hand Raziel struck her face again and again, uncaring of the blood that came with each and every hit. Ciaran's porcelain mask was soon stained crimson despite the rain and cracks marred the surface.
The last strike destroyed the upper right half of her mask and finally rendered her still. The exposed dark eye looked up at him without any sign of consciousness and he finally pulled the chain back. Dead? Unconscious? It didn't matter right now.
Raziel forced himself to stand and stumbled to where Siesta lay, "Siesta...?" He held her shoulders gently and shivered at the warmth of blood when he moved her to her back. Please, whatever Gods were out there...
"R...Raziel...?" Siesta looked up at him. Her eyes were glazed over and she looked close to to losing consciousness, "A...Are you..."
"I am here..." He pressed down hard against the wound to stem the flow of blood, "It is alright now. I-I can..."
"I...It hurts. Feels...so cold..." More blood dribbled past her lips. Raziel wanted to scream, to cry in rage at whatever fate decided to play puppets with their lives. Instead he continued to press down the wound even as more blood slipped beneath his fingers, "I'm...I'm scared..."
"No..." She couldn't die like this! He had to be able to heal her. But how, a mocking voice seemed to whisper. There were no miracles a beast of the abyss could cast and he was no firekeeper to be able to give her his own humanity.
It couldn't end like this. There had to be...had to be...
"R-Raziel...?" Her breath hitched as his touch suddenly left her, "Don't...Don't leave me. Please."
"I am not."
He turned and ran faster than he ever had. Past the village, past the camp and to the burnt field. He stepped over what little of the silver flowers remained and stopped in front of a grave.
Sieglinde's grave.
Whatever remaining shred of hesitation he might have had wasn't enough to keep him from getting on his knees and digging. Blood and dirt mixed as he dug and his grunts slowly became more and more inhuman.
"It was you who rescued me? Why, thank you. I am Sieglinde of Catarina."
This was too slow. He needed to go faster. Raziel let out an inhuman growl and, as he continued to dig, his left hand turned wide and grotesque.
"Oh! Have you seen my father? You wouldn't miss him. A suit of armour, just like mine?"
The wood of the coffin finally peeked out the dirt. Raziel punched through just as his hand returned to normal and was greeted with the same armor as before.
"I have finally located my father. All of your help was invaluable to us…thank you so much. I was finally able to pass on my mother's last words."
He destroyed the the rest of the coffin and pulled the corpse out. Unlike before there was no guesswork; he knew exactly where the humanity was contained, saw it churning under the armor and rotted skin.
My father…all Hollow now…has been subdued. He will cause no more trouble. It's finally over…I will return to Catarina. You assisted us both greatly. I can hardly return the favor, but please accept this. It's of no use to me now.
Raziel crushed the bone and watched with mixed relief and disgust as the flame of Humanity formed in his left hand. Torn between laughing and crying, he pulled himself from the grave and looked back for just a moment at the desecrated corpse of what was once a proud knight of Catarina. And his friend.
"I am sorry..."
He returned to Siesta and held her in his arms. Her eyes were closed now and he tried to ignore the growing feeling of dread that ran through him as he placed the clump of Humanity in her hand and gently closed her fingers shut.
A brief cover of white plumes engulfed her before quickly dissipating. Siesta's eyes remained closed, "Siesta...?" He shook her shoulders gently. No response, "Oh no...no." He shut his eyes, "Do do not do this, please. You are..."
Siesta gasped and her eyes opened, "R...Raziel...?" She coughed, more due to the dirt she swallowed than any pain, and looked him in the eyes. Even through the slowly fading rain she saw the tears in his eyes, which were quickly wiped away and replaced with a relieved smile as he took her in a tight embrace, "Mgh, Raziel! You're...holding just a bit too strong."
He released the embrace just as quickly and instead held her shoulders. He was crying again though he kept his smile throughout it all. Alive...she was alive. It didn't matter if she looked to him with disgust for what he did to save her, it would've been worth it.
His thoughts were cut off at Derflinger's sudden call, "Hey, hope you haven't forgotten about us." He looked back and his relief was sapped as he saw Ciaran still lying on the ground, "We gotta talk about what to do about your old friend here."
"Right..." He looked to Siesta once more, "Siesta...leave. Please. And do not come back until I call for you."
"If I didn't come here you would've-"
"I know." He would've died, but his life for hers wasn't a fair trade, "Thank you. But please go."
He waited till he was sure Siesta was out of sight before trudging back to where Ciaran and Derflinger lay. Without the haze of panic he could see now that she was still alive, if only barely. Her chest rose and fell in short, shallow breaths while her exposed eye continued to stare up blankly.
"You planning to kill her, aren't ya?" Derflinger said.
"Yes."
"Might wanna hold off for a bit there, partner." Raziel's left hand twitched and it took everything he had not to just ignore Derflinger's words and crush the demigod's head under his boot, "You saw it too, didn't ya? Her eyes, those claws, the wings. Assassin girl here was possessed. And from what I've seen of your memories you know exactly who it was."
Velka. The puppetmaster behind the fall of the gods with Manus as her unwitting pawn.
"...She could have done this willingly."
"Maybe, but I know possession. My former 'sister' had it as her forte, if you remember? I can see the signs. You wanna kill her? Fine, but all I'm sayin' is I get the feelin' she wasn't doing this dance willingly and if she dies then any chance of getting answers goes up in smoke. It's up to you."
This was...awkward.
Karin sighed and leaned back on the chair, lazily looking up at the ceiling of their shared attic room. Ever since the debriefing a few days ago they didn't have any more tasks, which left her and Estelle to do nothing but stew. Normally that wouldn't have been a problem, a day of respite was rare and often treasured, but her partner's sudden reticence and quiet was enough to make even her uncomfortable.
Sighing once more, she turned her gaze to the closest thing she had to a friend in this time. Estelle sat on the bed with her back towards her. In her hands she held her bow, which she maintained with a stoic resolve. Normally proper weapon maintenance would've been commended - Brimir only knew Centurion had to be forced to even oil his rapier - but she'd done nothing except said maintenance for the past few days. It was less admirable and more obsessive.
The only consolation was that she'd been more...open since her father found out. Relatively. She still tended to wear cumbersome leather when they were out in public but with her and a scant few others in the inn she'd let the mask down, so to speak.
"You hungry?" Karin asked.
"Not really..." And that was the end of that conversation. Most conversations they had nowadays tended to be short and depressingly one-sided. Estelle always replied, but only ever to acknowledge that she'd heard her. Outside of that she never spoke a word.
Right, enough of this.
Taking a deep breath, Karin made her way to the bed and sat with her back towards the other girl. Estelle stiffened at the contact for just a moment before resuming her maintenance. It was clear even if she didn't say it out loud that the ashy haired teen had issues with sudden contact. She was getting better about it, though, at least as far as Karin was concerned. Most others got a kneejerk pull or push.
"How's the scar treating you?" Karin asked. Now that they were so close it was much harder for Estelle to ignore her.
"It's fine. It doesn't hurt anymore." Thanks to Julio the wound had healed pretty well with nothing but the faintest scar to show that it was ever there. Of course that didn't change the fact that Estelle nearly got her face clawed off and Karin doubted you could just forget it so easily.
Or maybe she could. She didn't seem to mind the myriad of other scars that dotted her body.
"Is something wrong, Karin?" Estelle asked softly.
"You're asking me that?" She scoffed, "You're the one whose been quiet ever since..." Ever since her 'father' found out who she was, "I...look, I know it sucks and you wanted to keep it a secret, but it's already out there, alright? No need to worry about it."
"I'm not...worried." Estelle sighed and leaned closer to her. The back of their heads touched with a light tap, "I always knew fa- uh, Raziel wouldn't place much stock in it. He lived in Lordran, long before mother and the rest understood how its fractured time worked. If anyone could understand it logically it would be him.
"...What was he like? Back in your time, I mean." She didn't know what possessed her to ask. Maybe she just wanted to keep her talking after days of silence.
"Cold." Estelle paused and set her bow to the side, "When I was still a child his mind was already...fractured. There's...something inside him, a monster, and every day he had to keep from turning into one of those abyss beasts." Karin shivered. Even running into them once burned their appearance into her memory, "Mother...she tried to keep him focused. Or at least aim him at the Corrupted."
"You weren't close, then?"
"No. He barely paid me and my sister any mind." Sister. She mentioned her before, if only briefly. She was too afraid to ask back then, "I was really only close to my sister. Father's mind deteriorated steadily and mother was too busy with her own tasks to pay us much mind."
"Your sister...what was her name?"
"Serah." Even saying the name seemed to hurt, "She was the last one to die. It happened just a year ago, she..."
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."
"...Okay. Thank you." Estelle breathed in softly, "Maybe I can tell you one day, but right now..."
"Hey, I get it. Sisters are...complicated." She wondered idly if her own sister was still alive in this time. She could probably ask her...other self but she really didn't like the idea of staring at her future reflection, "Daughters too, actually."
"You mean lady Louise and lady Cattleya?"
Yeah." She made a noise at the back of her throat, "It's like...I understand that this must be weird for them but it's like they don't even care about how it feels for me. Louise looks like she's in disbelief or disappointment every time she sees me while that Cattleya woman seems to think it's oh so funny and adorable her strict, law abiding mom was a crossdresser who looks just like her little sister. Not to mention how weird it is that I have a 'daughter' that's 9 years older than me."
"I'm sure they don't mean any harm by it."
"Yeah, I know. Doesn't mean it's not a pain in the rear end, though." It wasn't like they were bad people. If not for the whole future daughter debacle they might've even been friends, "So believe me, if anyone knows how weird this whole 'family-not-family' thing is it's me. Kids, parents...all one big mess and we're both caught in the middle of it."
"Mhm." Estelle laughed under her breath. It was nice to hear again.
"...Hey, you don't mind me asking?" Estelle just waited for her to continue, "Your mom...who is she?"
"Why...do you want to know?"
"I don't know, it's just...the way you talk about her. Sometimes it feels like you want to get it off your chest." Ever since she knew her Estelle wore disguises. Her face, her history, it was a wonder she didn't give her a fake name on top of it. It was clear that it wasn't something she liked doing either. Once the layers were off she smiled more.
"Maybe you're right." She took a deep breath and idly played with a strand of Karin's hair between her fingers, "Well...you've already met her, actually. She was the one you came all the way to the capital to visit."
It took a second for the words to sink in. Karin let out a soft 'oh' of surprise and if they still weren't sitting back to back with each other she would've seen the other girl flinch as the realization set in, "The Queen." Henrietta, the daughter of the princess she knew. And Estelle's mom, "Huh...wow." She didn't really know how to feel about that. She didn't exactly know this new queen very well, "I'm surprised you didn't let anything slip when we came here."
"Like I said, I never planned to tell them. And I still don't."
"Hey...doesn't that technically make you a princess?"
"Please don't call me that..."
"Right, I got it, your majesty." Karin's lips quirked up in a small smile while Estelle groaned, "Look...right now we're trapped in a really messed up situation. You're from the future and I'm from the past but either way neither of us really belong here. So how about we make a deal?"
"What do you mean?"
"No more secrets. You need to get something off your chest you don't wanna tell the others? You can tell me. I need to say something? I'll tell you. Let's face it, none of the others are really gonna get the two of us so let's just lean on each other." It wasn't as if they hadn't already. Ever since they woke up here there wasn't a day where Karin didn't have the other girl for company. This just made it a bit more official.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah. Why, you don't agree?"
"N-No, it's fine! It's just...it's nothing."
Karin was about to say something else when Estelle suddenly turned around and wrapped her arms around shoulders in a sudden embrace. The hug was gentle, as if the girl herself couldn't believe she'd done it, and Karin was too busy ignoring the sudden flush on her cheeks to say anything back. Just like Estelle she wasn't a very...touchy person. Mostly it was because of her disguise. She needed to keep distance lest people saw through it.
They stayed that way for a few more seconds before the attic ladder suddenly lowered. The pair separated with a small noise and Karin landed on the floor with a painful thud, "Oh my!" The time-displaced chevalier looked up at Cattleya and Louise entering their room with a slight glare.
"Didn't your mom ever tell you how to knock?" she asked wryly.
"Hard to knock when there's no actual door." Louise scoffed. She turned to Estelle who was hidden behind the bed, "There's no need to hide your face. Julio told us what the deal was...more or less."
"O-Oh..." The ashy haired teen stood up and rubbed the back of her head sheepishly.
"And lemme guess, you two came to check it out for yourselves?" Karin sat up with a slight grouse.
"Oh course!" Cattleya clapped her hands with that serene smile still on her face. How did this woman always keep smiling? "And we wanted to see you too, of course. Now come, let's go out to town. I have so much fun planned."
When Ciaran awoke the first thing she felt was the pain in her throat. It was as if someone had showed molten coals in her mouth and forced her to swallow. That was quickly followed by the dull, throbbing ache across her face and body along with the tight ropes digging into her wrists. Even through all the pain she realized numbly that she must've been captured and bound.
Her vision was hazy, fading in and out of shadows as blobs of gold and red danced in front of her. The cold night are blew against the exposed half of her cracked mask and she groaned softly. She felt horrible and even breathing hurt, both because of the pain in her ribs and the burning agony in her neck. Had she not been a Lordsblade she would've already been begging her hypothetical captor for relief.
As her senses slowly came back to her she realized the dancing colors was a campfire and on the other side of it sat Manus, "You..." He didn't say a word, just looked at her with an unreadable expression as she feebly struggled against her bindings. It wasn't just her hands but her feet were also bound together. As much as she struggled the weakness she felt meant she couldn't do more than pathetically squirm.
He waited a full minute after she stopped moving before he finally spoke, "You eye is back to normal." Her eye? What in the Gods did he mean by that? "...Do not tell me you do not remember."
"What are you..." The pain in her head worsened and she let out a soft, hoarse scream as the events of the past two days suddenly came rushing back. Returning from the mission, finding out about the monarch's secret alliance with other children of the abyss and then...
"Velka," he said for her. Ciaran looked up and watched as he threw another block of firewood to the already roaring fire, "Those wings and talons, they're a sign of her favor. You remember, do you not? It was the same 'blessing' she gave to Manus that marked him as an enemy in Gwyn's eyes. To Manus it was nothing more than a gift, but to Gwyn it was a declaration of where he stood. And she knew it."
Ciaran knew all too well. Manus' fall and what came after were all tied to her machinations.
"She is alive..." Ciaran muttered.
"It appears so." He nodded, "And whether willingly or not it seems as if she played into your hatred of me to make you her pawn." His smile was wicked and razor sharp, "How does it feel knowing that you played into the hands of the one who led to your precious lord's fall?"
"Quiet..." Ciaran looked down at the ground bitterly. The churning heat of anger and disappointment was almost enough to drown out the pain of her actual injuries, "...Why didn't you kill me?" It was what she would have done in his place.
"I was going to. And I still might." He stood and only then did she notice her gold tracer held in his right hand. To kill her with her own treasured weapon? Of course. She wasn't going to beg and give him the satisfaction of breaking her.
He knelt in front of her and they looked each other in the eyes, both unwavering. Ciaran said nothing as he raised the blade and brought it down.
"..." Neither of them said a word as the ornate blade cut through the rope binding her wrists together. With the same surprising deftness he also split the rope holding her legs legs together.
"Do you know why I did not kill you?" She didn't reply, "For the same reason I told you before. Whatever hatred we have for each other is nothing compared to what is coming. I have seen it, and I care enough about this world to know that I will do anything to keep it safe. If Gwyndolin were to come back and demanded I get on my hands and knees for his aid then I would do so. Because they matter more."
"...Why are you telling me this?"
"Because I am done with this petty conflict between us. I wish to save this world and regardless of my feelings for you I believe that you can aid us in that. So you can make your choice now. You can decide that this world is worth fighting for, either for Tiffania's sake or your own, and stand with us. Or you could decide otherwise. Walk away, attempt to kill me now...just make your choice. But..."
"But...?"
"If you choose to stand with me then we do so as allies. I do not care if you hate me, I feel the same after what you've already done and how you hurt Siesta today, but no more petty conflicts and pathetic insults. It ends today."
He stood and tossed the golden blade down by her feet. She watched through narrowed as eyes he turned and walked to the edge of the field before he stopped with his back open to her. A choice or bait? She looked down at the curved weapon and picked it up weakly with her right hand as she stood. She could turn around now, just walk away. The wounds would eventually heal and she could continue life as she'd always had these past few decades.
Or...
She walked forward slowly, dirt crunching under her feet. As his back drew closer she heard whispers at the back of her mind. Stab him now, they said. Even if she couldn't kill him she would die knowing she struck a blow against Manus.
Ciaran stopped when they were almost colliding and twisted the tracer dully. One stab, no different from the hundreds - thousands - she'd killed. It would've been so easy.
The tracer fell from her limp hand and landed pathetically at their feet. Yes, so easy. Easy like how he could've killed her and yet despite that he chose not to. A beast couldn't have made that choice. Manus couldn't have made that choice.
Ciaran walked the few more traitorous steps till they stood shoulder to shoulder, staring ahead at the broken field, "...I do not know if I could ever forgive you," she said softly, "Artorias, my friends, my life...you took it all from me." She'd spent almost a century holding to this hate. She couldn't just let it go.
"You act as if I could forgive you for what you have done. If Siesta perished tonight we would not be having this conversation." He continued to look ahead, "But our own feelings do not matter. Until this damnable cycle comes to and end we are allies. Truly this time. Agreed, Ciaran?"
"Agreed...Raziel."
Alright, so here we finally have the end of the Raziel and Ciaran pissing matches. While they aren't exactly friends the sniping, constant insults and racist put-downs are shelved and they've finally resolved to work together as an actual team.
This does allow for more segments now since they'll no longer default to insulting each other. At the very least it'll be interesting to see what they can exchange now that they're actual allies.
Review Answers:
Remvis - Well Ciaran came real close to ending Siesta but thankfully Raziel was able to save her...just ignore Sieglinde's desecrated corpse over there :/ As of right now she's at least agreed to fully commit to saving the world.
G119 - Brainwashed so doesn't completely count?
Jaquan - Ciaran is blinded by thinking her side did at worst necessary evils. At the end of this chapter she seems to be acknowledging herself just a tad.
Guest - Remember it's just a possible future. Estelle's mom in this chapter should make it pretty clear that the future isn't set in stone unless you can buy this Raziel and Henrietta somehow getting together.
Also Ciaran does bend in this chapter, however slightly. Time will tell if she continues.
Ares1418 - Thanks :D TR is my first big fic and despite my lack of updates recently I've never forgotten it.
Allison61509 - That's very flattering, especially given my cringy first chapters. Hope you continue to enjoy and possibly review future chapters as well :)
