"You have returned, rider." The hardened maker greets with slight surprise. Daring not to break his strict concentration on his training. Pretending the target before him as an enemy, he swings his axe on the sagging stomach of a badly beaten dummy, bleeding straw from its recently cleaved seams. "Our world is surely in chaos if the omen returns."
"Count me as momentary bad luck." Death says as he ignores the loud battle growls and tremoring impacts along the ground. Strangely, not awakening the girl slumbering soundly on Despair's back, finally immersing herself in a deep slumber at least once in the entire trip since the falls. "I will not remain for long."
The giant swings his sword once more with a vigorous might and a battle roar, his axe slices through the dummy's cranium and crashes into the ash white stone behind it. Sticking the ginormous blade into the cracks it created. His hands leave the handle and finally turns to the rider and his great head slants to the alien girl beside him. Having been startled from the last hit and slides clumsily off the horse's saddle.
"Oi." He exclaims, "And who's this wee lass?" Genevieve rubs the slumber haze from her eyes with a yawn that sharply escalates to a scream when it finally clears. The colossus kneels on one large knee, his twenty foot height only cut less than half of his stature. His face closes in to the smaller one's before him and towers over the woman's even worse.
To her, he looks to be a Scotsman with his pulled back and braided auburn hair, large crooked teeth and buttoned red nose. She guesses even more so with how he looks to be recovering from a fight he surely lost. Blacks and blues splotch his face and around his minuscule and icy blue eyes that have just shown signs of healing. To anyone usual and under his magnitude, he's downright intimidating! Still, Genevieve was promised to be in good hands. Among Death's harsh words, she will try to stand by them. Even with her hand tightly caressing her killer's shotgun similar to a kid holding a teddy bear's paw.
"She's a human." Death deceits. "From the Fallen Kingdom of Man."
"Then by the elders," Thane exclaims with his yellow rodent's smile baring. Swinging his enormous hand under Genevieve's body, hitting the back of her legs so she falls backward into his hand. She yipes as her spine harshly collides with the armor palm. Thane hoists himself up on his two feet quickly that would've made the girl sick if she were not used to the constant climbs on Death's back. "The Third Kingdom still lives!"
Before the giant could utter another word of hope, the furiously glowing barrel of a shotgun presses to his red nose. "Don't get your hopes up for me," Genevieve warns pressing his nostrils farther in. "I'm not what you call alive. I never reached your oh-so-precious Well of Souls." Death pulls forward, ready to intervene. The giant's free hand waves at his own side, motioning Harvester's halves to stand down. "Now fucking unhand me before I blow that meathead of yours to pieces!"
The giant blinked before Death could follow the same motion. The giant gapes open his mouth with a boisterous laugh. His fresh blood and mead drenched breath blowing the girl's hair with each jolly guffaw. "She may be deceased," The giant acknowledges sunnily, "But she still carries a strong spirit!" The giant brings up a hand to the side of the gun pressing in his nose. Holding it out in a welcoming gesture. "The name's Thane, milady."
Genevieve stares at the finger more than double the size of her arm. The tension leaves Thane's nose and she clenches his forefinger tip with her entire palm. "Genevieve." She introduces herself with her skepticism still lingering, making an awkward attempt in shaking his forefinger. Thane's small eyes tighten at her for a moment. Examining the shimmering and unusual gleam sewn into her irises.
"You are a child of man, eh?" Thane says doubtfully. "Are you sure that is what you remain? For you have eyes of no human that have ever seen."
"That's because you have never seen one." Death corrects with a poorly hidden grimace.
"True." The giant shrugs.
Genevieve makes a quick beseeching look to the rider below. Death catches the hand she holds over the center of her sweater. Death silently responds back with a permitting nod. "You may think that 'cause of…" Her hand slips under her sweater, the golden encrusted necklace slips out into the sunlight. Thane's thin eyes widen at the sight of it. "'Cause of this. I-We know it's a weapon, but we can't seem to get it to work. 'You seen this thing before? It would be great if you had just a sliver of information about it."
"I don't know much about that, lass." Thane negates simply. Death glares at the giant, reading his subtle movements. The instant denial, the tightening grip on his axe, and the smallest, almost microscopic crack in his voice. Death has too much experience finding the same signs in his enemies, sensing the dread. And Thane just barely hid it.
"Do you think Muria would have some sort of idea?" Death asks observably.
Thane answers with a look up to west of the forge to a woman gazing over the balcony woven thickly with lush, heart shaped vines. Genevieve does not believe that woman is exactly gazing at them. Her eyes are blindfolded. Still, she stands intently in their direction with an unorthodox invisible glare lingering on her. "I suppose our shaman may know a thing or two about it." The gargantuan warrior guesses as the shaman recedes from overgrown pearl banister. Moving back to the center of the balcony where she can no longer be seen. "You should probably see her about that amulet. She may have more answers about it than any of us can bestow."
"I suggest you do that alone." Death recommends to Genevieve motioning her into the other direction with a still injured gauntlet to her back. "I have business attend to. Run along."
Genevieve pauses and follows through with the nudge to her back after eliciting a huff. She struts down ancient stone bridge. Her bothered look stuck on her eyes, not liking the use of words suitable for a mere child. But she makes her way, leaving the maker and the Grim Reaper alone at last.
"Now. . . What is the true reason you have come, Rider?" Thane says seriously. "You are aware I have no more heads for you to present to me."
"You're right." Death reveals. "I have come for no more than a favor this time."
"Run along." She mimics her guard's low and even voice in a ridiculous manner. "'The fuck does that pasty scumbag think he is?" She tries to stomp angrily, but her steps are barely audible over the distant panging of smoothening iron in the forge nearby. She begins to step to the tempo of the metal, groveling further to herself. "If I had those powers everyone's speakin' about. Break him in two, I could." After a few yards of stomping, she realizes there is no longer sound of flattening metal in the distance. She makes no note of it as she makes her way up to the shaman's section of the balcony.
"Look at her, Valus." Genevieve hears in a soft, gossiping tone of voice. Starting from the eastern set of stairs as she plants her foot in the western. She brakes her foot from climbing another step and turns her head. Locking eyes with a woman about the size of Thane. Her arms folded as she leans over the pale stone balcony. Her bright red hair flowing in waves much like hers, dangling overboard the railing. "Is that a human, a real human?"
Heavy steps trudge to the railing and stop at the woman's side. A larger maker comes into sight, seemingly Valus. The silence behind his metal smelter's mask is grim, yet harmless.
"You know, a hello would be sound at this point! You're not exactly whispering!" Genevieve calls out from across the forge. "I don't bite much!" She falsely welcomes bearing her gun in hand. Either it be for protection or to keep it from slipping again.
"Then why not greet us, child of man?" The giantess asks, pulling from the balcony. "It is, mind you, our lands you have wandered into."
"Fine." Genevieve shrugs a bit passively and rolling her doe eyes. She leaves the first step of the eastern stairs and up the opposite set. "If you want one so bad."
When she reaches the top of the crumbled stairs, she gets a better look up at the female maker. Her face is smooth, yet glowing and friendly. Her body feminine and yet it is stern and battle worn.
"I'm Genna." Genevieve introduces loud and clearly with her hands on her hips (but not wandering too far from her gun). "And you are..?"
"I am Ayla, the forge sister. Yonder is my brother Valus." Ayla introduces, "And the pup that has his eyes glued to yeah is Karn." The human ganders over at the similar maker except in heavier armor. Bald with a large mallet upright in his hand as if it weighs no more than a feather. He shakes off the stare at the eye contact. Genevieve smiles sheepishly at him them with much less fear from the giants, but still finds him a bit strange.
"Well come on, enough with the salutations and sorts." Ayla urges, "What are you doing with someone like the grim reaper at your behalf?"
Genevieve opens her mouth to tell her that her situation was none of her concern with the most swears she could fit into one sentence. Her illustrious vocabulary is only hindered for she does not exactly yearn to make any more enemies. Especially in a place where she could be called safe. Besides the fact that Ayla's size is also a good argument stopper as well. "'Guy just scooped me off my feet at the right time, I 'spose." Genevieve shrugs thinking of her time with the rider. Smiling at the young and happier endeavors, then her mind darkens with what had happened earlier. How outraged he was out of what seemed to be nothing. If only she knew. She would've dared to have apologized. She shakes off the thought, eyes refocus and her amulet gleams slightly enough to be noticed by the makers. "It's a long, grueling story. But I guess I could say, in the entire few days I known the guy, he's uh... Been a real slice."
"I concur." Ayla frowns. "Thanks to him and the pup," She points behind her shoulder to Karn, "Our forge was near crushed to shambles because of their. . . Judgement."
"Oi!" Karn growls, "He brought it down to. As well as hindering the Corruption In the Plains."
"Well if it werent for your decisions at the ruins," Ayla's voice dulls down to a lamenting mutter. "The Elder Eidard may still remain at our side. . ."
"The Elder…" Karn says in the same tone, lowering his piece. "Of course. . ." Genevieve's face twisted slightly at the sudden wave of tension and sadness she doesn't understand.
"Am I uh," Genevieve fumbles sheepishly, "Missing something?"
"We wish not to express a long and drull tale." Ayla laments apologetically. "Your lord is a very admirable being. He brought life to this land when we ourselves believed it dead."
"Ironic." Genevieve says with an apparent unimpressed voice and glazing eyes.
"When you contemplate of it. Yes, it appears so." Karn says with a soft smile. He glances at the necklace and changes the subject with a slightly brighter voice. "That amulet, what does it do?"
"Well for a couple of things," Genevieve says gently, then her voice grows proud when she counts off the details. "It glows, burns anyone who touches it but me. It allows me to float, (Well that happened once.)" She whispers her last words, looking away fleetingly. Then her voice rises again. "Aand…" A rather dangerous notion lights up in her dreadful and devious mind. Giving a smirk to the two giving her a rather curious look above her. "Actually, I'll show yeah the last thing…"
Ayla passes her confusion to her brother, whom already lost interest and returned to straightening swords on his anvil. Then to Karn, who shared her very same look. The two still keeping interest gaze back to find the mortal child no longer beneath them. Ayla's bright gaze rises to relocate. When she does, her giant heart drops. Encountering the final child of humanity with her body hunched over the river of lava meant for forging iron. Her head dipped into the blazing molten fires.
"GOOD GODS!" She panics, Valus'es head fires up at his sister's sudden cry. Karn plods to the river and goes to pluck the much smaller woman by the back of her hood and chaps. Watching in horror as her shrouded face leaks dark and quickly drying molten rock from her deteriorating skull. Though the two makers catch something odd that keeps Ayla standing still and Karn slow his pace to a stop. The smithess warily raises her large hand to the lips of her frightened and confused face. Genevieve's hand is fisted her locks, as if to keep the liquid rock from sticking to her hair. Her face rises as the red rock drips from her face, revealing her intact, if not a bit dirtied and chuckling face.
"I'm fire proof." Genevieve laughs. "Holy shit, did I get you!"
"You're a little devil aren't you?" Karn laughs, expertly hiding his previous nervousness.
Ayla finally let's go of her own face and reveals a weary smile with slanted brows. "You must drive that poor demolisher mad." Genevieve responds with holding her smile.
"You have no idea."
"She may be useful." A deep and unexpected mutter intrudes the three. Making them both twist their heads to one who seems to utter only a syllable once a month.
"You're right." Ayla agrees, having been too familiar with her brother's slim phrasings and put together exactly what he means. "How would you like a job here, Genna?"
Genevieve pauses rubbing the boiling dirt off her face with her sweater. Donning a look as if she wonders if Ayla is speaking to her or not. ". . . Me?"
"Of course!" Ayla says. "I'm not familiar with anyone else who can immerse themselves in lava other than the Red Horseman himself. You would be perfect for helping us around the forge."
It is strange, a job that didn't require each grueling minute with a client. One where she doesn't have to scrape herself from a bed, or even the cold floor, that she slightly sticks to with cold sweat and rancid shame. She has to process that wonderful idea, savoring each word in her mind. A job without shame. She never thought it could ever make her so excited.
"Um… YES!" She hops giddily with a girlish squeal. Dreadfully keeping herself from hugging the giantess's leg in a constricting squeeze. She stops herself sharply, her face turning from giddy to sly in a swift second. "But what am I paid?"
"A roof over your head is a sufficing payment." Ayla outmatches Genevieve with her serious gaze with her hands resting on her waist. "But with some hard enough work, you will be paid with better rags to wear."
"Come on," Karn buts in, thudding to the small being's side. "A lot of our kind had left. I'm sure we have a room where you can stay. One that hasn't been entirely destroyed by the Guardian." He says gingerly with his unsure and humungous hand holding his chin.
"Good enough for me." Genevieve graciously settles with a humbling shrug.
Death catches Genevive chattering happily with Ayla and Karn across the forge. He sighs, "She cannot even make it up a flight of stairs without becoming distracted." He quickly climbs the stairs. Pictures of a previous deal flickering through in his mind.
"So. . . You wish for me to train the final mortal child of man in combat?" Thane says with his large and usually furrowed brows raised. "Do you entirely believe that she will be able to handle such a hardship?"
"Yes." The Grim Kinslayer said in a flat surefullness. A bit insulted that someone who he's beaten in combat had deemed himself able to question his intensions. "I will not remain with her forever. She must learn to rely on herself."
Thane looked down at him. Death is never one to joke of anything really, but Thane remained with a glare, as if to make sure it wasn't truly jesting. Seeing that the rider's deadpanned and colder stare frozen in place. The larger warrior nodded. "I shall teach her the ways of battle in your absence. Do not worry, Rider. She will not be crushed. As long as she knows where to stand."
"I don't care what happens. She's one to recover from allot of things." Death allows. "Just dare not to go easy on her because she's small."
"If she is strong enough," Thane promised, pulling his axe out of the wall and breaking the dummy to pieces. "I will have no requirement to coddle. . . Thane swung his axe, crushing the wood dummy left in the training area to mere driftwood. He'd have to get new ones for training tomorrow.
"I'm nearly glad we could come to an agreement." Death orders, halfway turning his back to Thane. Their business was done, he no longer had a need to stay.
". . . And I have a feeling that I won't, knowing her."
Death recollected the agreement at the top of the steps curving to the opposite side of the Temple. The same woman from earlier. She looks significantly different than the other makers. White hair with darker, more olive skin. Attiring blue robes softer than silk with talismans on her neck, waist, and fingers.
"That necklace doesn't take kindly to mortals." Muria begins flatly. The masked horseman stops dead in his tracks with his greeting stopping short in the frozen air of his lungs. "I would know, we made it."
"Good." He says almost thankfully, "All the more questions you could answer for me then."
"Answer mine first." Muria insists, "How any people have gazed upon her and her amulet?"
"A spoken few." Death answers, "I incapacitated one who endeavored to take her by force. They will be seen to be threat anymore." Muria holds nearly frozen with her hand on her willow staff and the other on the pearl white balcony. "Does that hold significance?"
"I believe that those few may still have their voices to whisper of her." Muria laments. "Consequently, I fear it may be too late."
Death's rotten pumpkin spheres blink in confusion. "Too late for what?"
"That weapon is very sought after." Muria tells truthfully, leaving the comfort of the kindly evergreen winds rolling about the balcony. "And with the notion she is human, the rarest creature alive in the balance, she will have a rather extravagant price on her head."
"Of course she's human-"
"There is no purpose in deceiving me." The shaman interrupts, withdrawing her polished hand up before her exactly in the direction of the white mask. "I know her human form is no longer entire. I sensed her otherworldly alteration as soon as she set foot in our waters." Death wants to swear from being caught in the act, but doesn't wish to upset the holy woman either.
"But her spell," Death has a bit of trouble admitting what occured at the falls. "What if she uses it?"
"We will not be effected by her siren charm, we are an olden race far past low ranking abilities."
Death let out a silent exhale of relief that briefly weighs his eyes down low. "I felt that she would not be a threat to you all. That is why I brought her here." He clarifies, "And above that, not many entities venture to a land as near to the abyss as you are. And as for her defending herself, I have already spoken with Thane on her stay. And I was hoping that you may help her as well."
"What do wish of me?" Muria inquires. "Do you believe that you are in the appropriate time to ask me for any favoritisms of sorts?"
Death ignores her question by putting in his instead, having she already done so twice. "I require you to teach her how to use that amulet." Muria freezes, the warm rolling winds in the forest abruptly vanish, leaving only cold stillness in its departure. "She won't have to worry of others taking advantage of her if she only knows how to hold on her own."
"I cannot." Tri-Stone's shaman denies.
"Muria." He urges, forging closer. "She is going to find out eventually, why not have her teachings be from someone in the light?"
"You don't understand." Muria pulls away. "Man may have aged, but they had always remained children. Genevieve is no exception. She cannot handle that sort of power."
"And how would you possibly know, Shaman?" Death persists, his metal tipped boots only five paces. "She is only a couple of decades. Give her time. She will grow to be more responsible with the correct traini-"
"I have seen what may occur." Muria interrupts firmly with her prediction. Her glowing, blue hand waves through the air before her. Her bound eyes zone into the void of the future of possibly lay ahead. "Her human mind will drive mad with the intoxication of power. Both physical and social. With her succubus charms, she could run the realms with a wave of her hand. Or she could burn it all in one breath of fire if she wishes for a quicker option to destroy the cosmos." The blue aura turns into brightly burning, neon yellow blast of flames. He jumps back from the sudden explosion of hot colors. It is snuffed out quickly before the explosion could touch the rider's blinded eyes. Swirling like a drain into the spiral born into Muria's staff. Muria resumes a more collective stance, her voice moderates but remains unyielding. "She is far too dangerous, and like the rest of her departed kind, she is far too young. I will teach her as you wish. But I will not administer the remainder of her power."
Death stayed silent, if his pulse existed, his heart would have certainly skipped. This isn't about the amulet anymore, he knows it is far deeper than that. If Genevieve were in the wrong hands, if her powers were unlocked, one could hold endless and unimaginable power. To know and unlock her full potential, all the worlds could end at once in a wave of fire that the Abyss, Corruption would never create so quickly.
But Death is an officer of the balance. And he could not have anyone disrupt it. Not even a woman that he begins to hold dear.
"I know that this is not the most protected place for her. For any of us." Muria mutters, wandering away in her thoughts slightly. Then passes her blind gaze back to the rider. "Put her under the protection of the angels. Make haste in your search for safe travel to the White City." Muria orders forcefully. "Before anyone else knows she is here."
". . . Very well." Death mutters.
Welcome new followers, favors, and reviewers and welcome back, my wonderful stalkers! You know who you are (Because I do (O u O) And I love you all!) You all liven my day and I hope my stories go double for your cute faces.
Okay so I maay rant a bit down here. . . Just saying.
Hey so hope you all have had a simply lovely two months! Sorry again for the timing. It's just that this fic is proving rather difficult to write so if there are a few mistakes or confusions, don't hesitate to PM me about them. I will try my hardest to give answers that are empty of any bullshit. Plus I've been also been cheating on this fic to write other ones. (They will not be OC romance!) Because there have been waaaay too many and I strongly believe that it's wearing out the oc ships fast. And I know that I havn't been helping with this either. They're getting far too tedious for my taste so this will be my only one. But there will be one including a good old fashioned ship! The other two, AU. One I'll have dabble on humor if my gore loving writings will allow it. The other is just a strange concoction that I even I don't know what the hell it is yet. But that's all I have to say really. Bye dearies! Next chapter will be a treat! ;)