History is much like an Endless Waltz.
The three beats of War, Peace, and Revolution
continue on forever.
-Gundam Wing, Endless Waltz
Warning: Some scenes in this Episode may exceed the general PG-13
rating of thi fic for violence. You've been warned. Read at your own risk.
Episode 8- The Last Point Found? Fire Mountain Under Siege.
Dawnlight now splashed upon the fringes of the land,
and with it brought an unsettling feeling of unrest. This feeling descended
upon the Fire Mountain and its inhabitants, though they slept with the
awakening of the day. Chilly breezes stirred though the tapestries in the
dining hall, and silent feet padded their way quietly past them, sushing
the quietly chirping bird on her shoulder. Up onto the parapets the little
figure crept, staying away from guards that would slow her walk. The feeling
of unease had woken Lillia early, and it caused her concern. It almost
seemed as though she could hear a thing in the distance, yet not discern
what it was. Curiosity had always been her trait, so she acted upon it,
rising from her bed and wandering.
Up upon the turrets of the temple's walls, the little
blonde haired girl sat, legs dangling off the side as she waited to observe
the rising of the sun, from where it announced the day. Scanning the horizon
brought no change in feeling, merely a chill from the air, causing a shiver.
Not seeing anything amiss, Lillia sighed, shrugging. Then, with a whimsical
smile, flung her arms very wide, tilting her head back and breathing in
the cool morning air. As she did this, the finch beside her chirruped anxiously,
hopping onto her knee and flapping his wings in warning. Lillia turned
her head to see what Chirper was so upset about, and saw that she was not
alone on her perch. A woman had joined her, tall and also blonde, a thick,
blue woolen shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Lillia wished she had thought
of bringing that. Then she remembered the woman, a refugee from one of
the towns around the Mountain.
"What are you doing up here this early?" her intruder
laughed sleepily, shaking her head. "You should be in bed!"
"I couldn't sleep," Lillia replied honestly. She
turned back to her arms wide pose, and closed her eyes. "So I'm out flying
instead!" After a moment, she could hear the young woman giggling at her,
so she opened her eyes again and looked at her. "I'm Lillia. You're Rose,
aren't you? From the Shaking Pines town."
"Yeah," Rose agreed, coming to stand beside Lillia.
"I couldn't sleep either. I heard the cooks in the kitchens already getting
up." She turned around and looked inward at the grounds below. "Guards
are changing...." she mentioned as she watched a few men mill below on
the cobblestones. "Everyone'll be up soon, I guess. Kinda weird out today,"
she added, rubbing her arms for warmth. Lillia shrugged, turning back to
the deep valley that stretched out beyond them. It was still dim with the
dawnlight, grey rather than illuminated, but lightening all the while.
The evening fog was revealing the morning dew, rolling away from the slopes
of the mountains beyond. Trees and shrubbery was revealed as the wisps
of whiteness withdrew.
Again, Lillia found herself shivering, a sense of
uncertainty growing. Eyes picked over the edges of the shrouded land, birds
eyes, sharp and clear.
Rose was continuing, "I wish I'd been able to come
up here for training. Never got the chance. It's too bad, its so pretty
up here. And there's lots of guards around," she laughed, watching the
men below disperse. "But we're going to be kicked off of here if any of
them spot us. It's really not safe-"
"Rose? There's something in the mist."
"-with all the.... Huh?" She broke off her rambling,
turning to see what Lillia saw. The younger girl had her hand to her eyes,
peering forward. After a moment, she breathed deeply, setting her hand
down onto the stone. Chirper made a low, throaty musical note, hopping
up onto her shoulder and spreading his wings.
"I can hear them. They're coming."
"Hear who?" Rose strained, trying to understand
what was going on. She looked bewilderedly between the girl with her and
the edges of the valley below. Frowning, she waited as the fogginess of
morning withdrew further, and at the base of the slop stood a small, dark
figure. It was too far to see her clearly, but the form was too delicate
and small to be male. If Rose leaned forward, she imagined she could see
a faint catching of white hair. But that was just her imagination. And
as moments passed, and the sliver of risen sun began to burn away the mists,
she saw that this solitary figure was not alone. Ghostly forms shrouded
her, rising up from the distant grounds. And they were armed, and black,
and ugly.
"Oh gods," Rose whispered, a sick feeling growing
in her stomach. After a moment, she gathered up her wits, and tried to
think. "Sky. I've got to tell Sky...what the hell...I've got to tell everyone!
Lillia!" She snapped, grabbing the girls arm. She was staring still at
the creatures that now displayed themselves more clearly at the border
of the veil of mists. "Get inside! Warn the High Priestess!"
The girl blinked in startlement for a moment, as
though unsure what was being requested of her. "Can't prevent it now,"
she told Rose softly, eyes sad. "I'll go." She swung her feet inside the
temple and hopped onto the ground, taking a few slow steps, then breaking
into a run as she gathered speed, her familiar winging along behind her.
Rose, at this point, did not care about Lillia's
softly spoken words, but instead was growing frantic with worry. They had
not yet begun to move forward, but with each passing moment, another and
another demon was finding itself revealed. And they disappeared into the
trees and grass, seeming to rise out of the land itself.
She spun, feet flying. The guards, the guards, the
guards were changing. Had to warn everyone. Empty posts, left for the day,
men climbing the creaky wooden steps. Rose's feet running against the stone.
Up the steps to the tower, where she gasped to look and see more appearing.
Warn everyone. It was Shaking Pines all over again, the gash that had appeared
on market day, in the center of town. It was not just the Fire Mountain
in danger. No, there were villages and towns arrayed around the Mountain.
She was in the tower, and could hear men shouting below. She was not alone
in seeing it anymore. One of them had also spotted the attackers, and now
the alarm would go up. Turning around, Rose saw the brazier that would
light the first signal fire of danger. It was bronze and it gleamed in
the torchlight on the column beside her. Grabbing it up, she threw the
brand into the pit, watching the tinder catch and flame.
What else, what else? How to wake up the world?
Beside an empty stool, she saw the watchman's trumpet. What good was a
fire if all slept? Noise must be made. She snatched it up, sending a quick
glance below her, seeing Sky's familiar head bobbing its way rapidly up
the stairs towards her. Uncertainly, she fumbled with the instrument, and
brought it to her lips.
From within, sleepy headed men and women woke, priestess,
soldier or princess.
And the world knew that Emania was at war.
Too much beauty can be seen from above.
It seems, sometimes, that the further away a person
is from the ground, the more their eyes can take in of the directions,
and see more clearly, even if obscured by dawnlight mist. It had been a
strange awakening for the Inner senshi, after what seemed a short- though
restful- sleep. Ami had stirred first, cerulean eyes looking at the pebbles
that lay too close to her face. Bed should be soft pillows and warm blankets,
not a cloak and a forearm. Then, as her eyes opened further, she lifted
her head to find herself, Minako, Rei and Makoto very much alone in the
clearing. It would have been insensible to think that the silver eyed had
simply vanished, like a dream. But it seemed they had. Such strange people.
But nevertheless, Ami woke the others, and after having a quick breakfast,
they were off again, Lagu, Ken and Eolh gliding down from their resting
places. So now they soared, the day drawing up clear and cloudless, the
sunlight unbearably bright.
Minako held on tightly to the stiff feathers. They
were prickly under her palms, and scratchy. But at first she'd been too
afraid of falling off to let go, and then worried about pulling too hard.
Not that Makoto had said anything to her about it. But right now, all she
wanted to do was get down. Once used to it, the flying sensation had been
exhilarating. How could it not? Riding a dragon! How many people get to
do that? Wind in your face, hair streaming out behind you, a beautiful
day and the heroine of an adventure! Of course, now her eyes were dried
out, and she wanted some goggles or something. Her hair was a tangled
mess, red ribbon wrapped around a fist since the wind kept trying to snatch
it away from her hair. And her legs ached, from being saddlesore and...if
you rode a dragon, did that count as 'saddlesore'? Technically speaking,
she wasn't using a saddle. Minako resolved to figure that out later, or
maybe ask Ami. Isn't there a saying about being too long in the saddle?
Keeping her eyes half lidded, she peered in a nearsighted-looking
stare around her, and down. The three dragons had lowered their height,
velocity slowing as they dipped further from the clouds. Now they banked
among rocks rather than clouds, pretty painted layers of silt deposits,
and ancient volcanic ash, folds in the blanket of the earth, brown and
red and grey. The ground was broken where fissures had cracked it, dark
in the crannies of the ground. Sweeping in and out of canyon walls and
spires, they dropped lower, skimming the surface.
Here. This is where she rests.
Minako was afraid her hands would begin to bleed
on the feathers, she held them so tightly. Eolh kicked up an enormous amount
of wind as he landed, the four shoulderblades of his back working in complex
unison to land them neatly on the ground.
Once down, she took a breath to calm herself, then,
"Minna! Henshin yo!"
"Mercury Crystal Power!"
"Mars Crystal Power!"
"Jupiter Crystal Power!"
"Venus Crystal Power!"
"Make-up!"
Together, the brilliance of their auras filled the
canyon with glitter and brightness, fire, water, electricity and energy.
Moments later, four sets of heeled feet hit the ground with a prepared
smack, and eyes cast about for any awaiting enemies.
"So?" Mars asked after a moment of silence. "There's
nobody here!" She was the first to straighten herself up, the others a
beat behind.
"Minna," Venus tried, "Mercury?"
Scanning....
"We're alone. I'm picking up infrared of..." Mercury
hesitated, then quirked her eyebrows amusedly, "cows. About five klicks
to the southeast of here. And greater vegetation."
"Nothing? You're sure?" Jupiter sounded disbelieving,
coming to stand and watch Mercury's computer take in information. "Not
anything? Won't fairies show up on your computer? Magic and technology
don't usually mix...."
Mercury was adamantly shaking her head, clicking
the compact computer closed with a snap. "Hai, Jupiter. Very sure. There
is nothing here physically. Mars?"
"I already said there was no one here!"
Venus was exploring already, head staring up the
steep walls of rock. There was little shrubbery, some sparse brush, acclimated
to the barren soil. She kicked a rock a length or so away from her, and
dust rose up around it. "Okay. Now what?"
There.
Mercury, Mars and Jupiter turned and said, "Lagu,"
"Eolh," then blinked. Jupiter recovered first. "Eolh
says that you should go there." Jupiter turned and pointed towards the
place her dragon had shown her, a low, narrow gash in the surface of the
canyon wall. Venus got a strange expression on her face, and stared at
it.
"Ah, eheheh...." she laughed nervously, "Dark in
there...." Then, recovering, "Okay! Guess it's my turn! Let's get going!
Sooner we find the next Point, the better, ne?"
She got barely more than two steps before her way
was blocked by the delicate bulk of Lagu. The water dragon slipped before
her, tail coiling around as her liquid prism eyes focused their lenses
on the pretty sailor suited soldier of Love.
You go alone.
Sailor Venus heard the words in her mind, in the
back of it. Strangely familiar, it reminded her of Ami's. But it sounded
older. Much, much older, the way a young woman's voice will someday become
an old woman's. Such was Lagu's. None of the dragons had spoken to Venus
yet, and she had been under the impression they could not.
Do not underestimate us.
Again, Lagu's voice echoed in her mind.
It is she and I who have suffered the most.
Be warned.
Venus watched the sleek figure wind its way
over her, wings transparent in the noonday light. Then dust caught up around
them from the dried ground, and she saw the worried faces of her friends.
"Venus-chan?"
Face to face, she met their eyes, lastly meeting
Mercury's. "Lagu says I have to go alone."
"Wakarimasu," Mercury replied quietly. I understand.
"Are you crazy?" Mars shouted, disbelieving.
"Venus! You can't go in there alone! Just because I don't sense anything
out here doesn't mean that- "
"Mars, Jupiter," Mercury tried to console, "We each
had to meet on our own." Turning, she looked over her shoulder to see Lagu,
standing beside the opening. "This is a thing we must each accomplish by
ourselves. Now is Venus' turn."
"Yeah!" Venus echoed, grinning and trying
not to look worried. She winked and threw a victory sign, "After all, I'm
always last, remember? Can't break with tradition!"
She turned on a heel and began to walk towards
the cave mouth.
"Venus!" Mars called, running forward a bit.
"Wait!" When Venus hesitated, Mars brought her hands together. "Here. It's
dark in there." On the tips of her fingers, a fireball formed. "Fire...."
very softly she finished, "Soul...." Rather than flinging a giant ball
of flames at an opponent, Sailor Mars cupped the fire in her hands, holding
it a moment, then releasing it into the air, watching it float its way
over to Venus, who lifted her own gloved hands to receive it. "I don't
know how long that will last," she warned, wagging a finger. "So you'd
better hurry up, O master of tardiness!"
"Hai!" Venus agreed, and turned, running inside,
her shadow falling all around her with the Fire Soul in her hands.
If Venus had expected a cave of damp and dark,
her reality was quite another thing. It was damp, and dark, but the image
that often comes to mind is also one of dreariness, and the cave of the
dragon of earth was far from dreary. Walls smooth as cream, carved like
fresh churned butter. Tiny drops of water, so insignificant alone, combined
with time and patience and eons. These tunnels were the product of that
patience. Earth's secret beauty, unrevealed to the daylight.
It was cool, but not chill, a steady, constant
temperature that breathed in the darkness of the subterranean. The ability
to maintain a constant temperature is one sign of a living organism. Speech
and consciousness, in fact, do not denote life, but rather the ability
to generate offspring, and carry DNA. Atoms to molecules, molecules to
matter, matter to tissue, tissue to organs, organs to organism, organism
to ecosystem, ecosystem to biosphere, biosphere to planet, planet to solar
system, solar system to galaxy, galaxy to universe, etc. etc. etc.....
And none of this mattered to the wandering
Sailor Venus, who was busy keeping herself from becoming scared witless.
It wasn't that she was afraid of the dark. Even if she was, who could blame
her? The yawning gape of cave mouth in the side of the canyon wall, the
pitch within that stretched for infinite lengths ahead of her. It was daunting
even to the bravest soul, such as a pretty sailor suited senshi. No, her
fear was that she was alone, and that she did not know. Few things are
as frightening as not knowing. Not knowing if the sounds in your ears are
normal sounds, not knowing if an enemy lurked around the next shadow, not
knowing if the dragon would lay in the path she took. Already, Venus had
passed several forks in her road.
Now she wandered a narrow passage, spelunking
unwillingly as she ducked her head, pressing a palm against the wall to
steady herself, the oils in her hand creating a faint eternal marker of
her passage. In her other hand, she held up the dulling orangey brightness
of Mars' fire. Which, as she watched in horror, swirled out.
Darkness.
Venus shivered, though there was no wind, and the temperature
in the cave was not unpleasantly cool. For a moment, she could see her
eyes playing tricks on her, in attempt to see. Faint dark swirls crossed
her vision, then settled into ebony. Nothing to see, she was blind. And
it was so very quiet. Hearing her own breathing, steady, though ragged.
Pulse in ears. Heart in throat.
"I'm going to fail," she whispered fearfully,
more that failure seemed imminent, not an enemy. And enemy could be faced.
Uncertainty? How do you defeat that?
Venus sank to her knees, placing her hands
on the smooth stone, closing her eyes. Some of the vertigo left if she
did this, playing a trick on her senses, eyes still trying to see. If the
eyelids were shut, then perhaps they would stop seeking light.
Other kinetic senses left to themselves, visionless,
her mind tried to compensate. Though the silence, Venus heart a distant
thrumming, steady and irregular at once, the sound of a river flowing though
underground channels, blood of the land.
She crawled forward. There was no chance to
go back- she wouldn't be able to find her way. No, only forward now, around
the last bend, feeling with groping fingers.
This is my heartbeat.
Her breath caught, feeling the tingling in her mind. The aged
voice, rich as silt.
Blind, you still do not see. Go away, and
let me sleep for another thousand's thousand years.
That was not a reaction Venus had been expecting.
Startled, she burst, "But we need your help!"
Who is this 'we' you refer to? The 'we'
who forgets the old ways? The 'we' who kills my children? Or is this the
dying 'we' who beg for help? Go away. I am too weak to give it.
Quietly, Venus sat herself in a heap where
she had crawled, awkwardly trying to think of what to say. "Lagu is awake!
And Ken and Eolh! We're not alone...we need your help, too! To save the
world." She said it as much to herself as to the dragoness, and her words
sounded empty.
Save the world. So noble. What care I of the world? My children
care not of it. Why should I care for it? Lagu is too hopeful. She creates
them, gives the life, but I give them birth. I see how humans think now.
The world is theirs. Kill my other children. I disclaim them. Nothing to
do with them. Fleas. Hopeless fleas.
"They're more than fleas, if you're so scared
of what they've done," Venus realized out loud, her voice strangely calm.
It echoed emptily in the darkness.
And who are you, to care so much for them?
That was a question that Venus felt capable
to answer. "I am the pretty sailor suited soldier, Sailor Venus, champion
of love and justice!"
In the velvet blackness, she heard a rumble
of draconic laughter, and realized that she had just been ridiculed. How
nice for you. Is that all you think you are?
"Well, um..." Venus stuttered a moment, thinking.
"Sailor V!"
And?
"Princess Venus," then, she added, "Aino Minako."
And?
"And what? That's who I am! Aino Minako, Sailor
Venus, same person. What else do you want from me?"
You give me only names. Go away. You do
not understand.
"I just want to save the world!"
Is that all? To save the world?
"Yes!"
Why?
"Because it's worth it!"
.
.
.
Light up the world.
"Huh?"
Light up the world.
She sat there, and thought about that for
a few moments. Then she stood up, and, winking, blew a kiss. "Venus Love
and Beauty Shock!"
In the brilliance of gold that flung itself
around her, she could see the expanse of the cavern she had wandered into.
A wide, shallow underground lake stretched beyond her, with the tranquility
of a glass mirror. A step further, and she would have stumbled over the
low lip, and splashed into its reflective calm. Here was the quiet loveliness
of the underworld.
It glittered in her gold. She didn't know
how such stones grew, but around her, descending, petals of rose quartz
caught up the illumination of the fire, pink and red and purple and gold,
fragmenting in unbroken shafts. Tall formations like organ pipes soared
up to her left, deeply shadowed, and a great ceiling to rival Gothic arches.
These were the bones of the earth, the cathedrals within the planet.
And there was the dragon.
Gleaming in the golden light, smooth bodied
and massive, curled into a hollow of the cave. Tail wrapped around her
body, talons folded up under her chin. Smooth, twin horns slicked back
over her head, which lay in the pool's center, the yellow prism in her
forehead gleaming. Teardrops still sat freshly on her face, the great golden
eyes blurry with sadness.
I sing a song of forests, girl. I sing
a song of plains. I sing a story of people, I sing a song of remembrance.
I sing of cities, glorious cities just born. I sing of their glory! I sing
of how people work together to make their lives great! I sing a lament
of cities, girl, for the death they perpetuate. I sing of things made,
of things men must destroy. I weep for the death of Beauty, and of the
world destroyed.
"Your world isn't dead yet," Venus told her
simply. It was fact. "If you don't help, then it will be."
But there are so many worlds....
She began to understand. Not one world, but
many. "Gomen. Oh, gomen nasai....."
This was the grief of a Mother, for her children
who had died.
Three senshi waited outside the cave mouth.
Waited patiently, for several hours. Waiting is an unfair game. It is more
painful than it should be. The purple hour of twilight had not yet
settled when Lagu stood, Ami stirring to her feet and stepping forward.
"Ami-chan? What's wrong?" Makoto asked as
Rei turned to follow Ami's gaze.
They come.
The golden dragon crested the darkness of
her underworld, and joined the rest of her family. Minako walked alongside
her, expression curtained. Then, quietly, "She says her name is Jara."
The mourning golden dragon faced the other
three. Tentatively, she touched noses with Ken, then Eolh. The senshi watched
as the two females bowed heads, Jara more than twice the size of Lagu.
It was a delicate gesture, one of respect.
"Minna," Ami told them. "It's time."
"Jara feels blood on her," Minako said hoarsely,
a pained expression. The bonding that joined dragon to princess had formed,
and Minako felt the acute pain of Jara through it.
Four dragons. Ken, Eolh, Lagu, Jara.
Four soldiers. Rei, Makoto, Ami and Minako.
And they took flight.
Fire Mountain was a temple, but it was built
as a citadel. Why this was, no one seemed to know, and it had never been
questioned. It never seemed important. War was foreign to the Land of Infinite
Gods, a thing spoken of only in secret places, never to actually occur.
It was a dark thing, unwanted by all. Until these last years. Until something
changed. Until a new way of life began to take root, and with it came greed
and corruption and the claim of dominion over the earth.
Now it swarmed over the land.
Insectlike, black with chitinous armor covering
body and soul. Perhaps, when the world was still very young, some far seeing
architect had planned against the current case, letting the high, grey
drop cliffs of the Fire Mountain serve as more than decoration. Now they
were its best defense. No army had ever camped at their skirts. Now horrible
creatures stormed the gates, worming their way up the sides, up the back,
using grappling hooks and chains and ladders to try to breach the walls.
No gunpowder existed, and so they did not use it, blasting down the walls
like Constantinople. Rather magic, a constant, steady stream that pounded
away day and night, for now the siege had extended into another sunset.
The defenders knew they would not last too much longer. Wards
could keep them out, keep them back, the twisted things. But more frightening
was the faces they resembled. Too close, though repulsive, their eyes still
shadowed intelligence. Demons weren't supposed to have feelings. Seeing
once flinch in pain when struck was not a good thing to witness.
Lenora stood at the Dawn Gate, darkling robes
swirling about her as a hand drew through the air. "Air, Breath of Life,
I beg you. Protect your children in their desperation. Ward this place,
and let us have peace." As she traced the air, a faint tawny emblem burned
transparently. Then smoke of burned grass choked her, and she smelled blood
once more.
An arm steadied her, and she looked to see
a grimly smiling face. "It seems the asylum I granted you, Princess, is
worth nothing."
Rory shrugged. She'd changed from her travel
gear into one of the priestess' spare garments, plain cotton fabric. Hair
tied up into a series of knots, she had donned the bags and herbs of a
healer, and was walking the walls. Against the constant barrage, rifts
were breaking in the wards. Goblins seeped though. The walls held out only
so much. Men struggled below them, swords bloody and gored. They were winning,
but the tides of magic turned at sunset. And now it grew dark once more.
"No one is safe anywhere, until the people
decide they want something else," Rory told her. "Bellina's having a fit
down there. Can't find you, Lady Lenora. You're too valuable to be up on
the wall."
Lenora snorted, a rude sound. "So are you.
You've got that Balan to protect you." She sighed deeply, eyes turning
away. "Am I really more valuable than any of them? Are we?" She looked
down at the men below. "I've seen those men before. Fire Mountain's honor
guard. But I don't even know their names."
"The one with the big sword is Sky," Rory
told her. "And the dark one with him is Xanntippe."
The Priestess shook her head, a few stay auburn
locks clinging to her cheeks. "And you already know their names."
"I met them before. Come on. They're on their
way back in. We should be too."
After a moment's hesitation, Lenora took Rory's
arm, and they began to head back in, towards the inner wall. They did not
get far. Screams erupted from the Sunset Gate, and a shower of sparks soared
into the purple sky. "They've breached our seals!" Lenora broke into a
run, and Rory had no inclination to stop her.
Upon the ridge of the east, a straggly line
of people formed. They were worn looking, and their clothes were old, though
patched neatly. These were not a glamourous people. A casual observer would
have noted that they were tired, as though they had traveled very far very
quickly, with little rest. Also, that only a handful of these rode horseback.
Most were on foot. A more wary observer would have taken note, that despite
this, there was an aura of determination about them, as though they were
set on a goal, and they would not stop until it was attained. And of course,
there were their eyes.
"I can't believe you're here. I told you to
stay away, Undine." Caitlyn muttered darkly at him from Ember's back.
"Huh. I guess that's the man in me, thinking
you women mean one thing and say another."
That got a dagger-like glare in return.
"I'm not in the mood to be teased."
"When are you ever?"
She rolled her eyes.
That caused him to grin a bit, but it faded
as he took in the dark bags under them, and the weariness. "Cait, have
you-"
"I've slept enough. And after the battle,
I'll get plenty."
She let the double edged phrasing hang. If
she lived, she'd sleep. If she didn't live, she'd still sleep. Either way,
rest afterward. Same with the hundred or so men and women she had with
her, milling in the forest in a disordered multitude.
They broke the treeline, and a murmur went up though the ranks
of sorcerers. A glassy rip could be seen in the air, and the outermost
wall of the Fire Mountain was shredded. Even as they watched, a dark figure
hurtled down the wall as one small, scrambling figure clawed its way to
the top.
"We're going to lose a lot of them," Caitlyn
whispered as her eyes swept across the sea of demons. "Gods, human fighting
faerie-"
"Don't think about it," Undine told her. "Just
don't think about it." He looked at the people below them, fingers to their
lips as they considered the battle upcoming. "For our future."
"What future is there without a safe world
to live in?"
To that, Undine had no answer, so he wisely
stayed silent.
Caitlyn wheeled Ember about. Faces with silver
eyes turned upward, looking at her. So young. The older ones wouldn't come.
Too many deaths. Too many Cleansings. Not enough believed any good could
come of this. Not enough time to change enough minds. Time. Always time.
"I know you hate them!" Caitlyn began, acknowledging
bluntly the obvious. There were grim expressions from the upturned faces.
"But for our own future, this is now our best hope! A world of demons is
not a world to be lived in." She let Ember idle to the side. "Ranks! Form
up! Cavalry to me! Foot to Undine!" Never much for words, they obeyed her
directions. As she watched the lines draw into rows, bits of armor, shield
and helmet glowing dully in the twilight. She drew her sword. "This is
our way to fight!"
A cry tore from a hundred throats, and then
there was the pounding of hooves and feet against the ground as the century
of silver eyed witches engaged in battle.
Adjusting his grip on the sword, Balan tried
to keep it from flying from his fingers. Already slickened by nerves, blood
now mingled into the sweat, both from slit knuckles and from dead enemies.
Having discarded his shield, he now fought with blade alone, in the midst
of a knot of the honor guard, the first arrivals at the Sunset Gate. Though
the drop cliffs that face the valley were too steep to climb save with
ladders, grappling, or wings, and the back of the temple grounds was guarded
by the peak of the volcano, the east and west were the ways down, and the
ways up. As such, they were easy to climb, and so these were the best possibilities
for attack. A feint, a stab, a duck, a roll. One man to the left protecting
the man beside him's weaker side. For some time, Balan too had donned the
helmet of the guard, the cheekplates over his face, the nose guard running
down between his eyes. Faceless, nameless, part of an army. Strange things,
such a way of fighting. Emotionless, distant. Analytical and detached.
A mass of men bent on killing their enemy. Still, a mass of men working
in cohesion. Working to aid each other as they killed. Identical armor,
identity lost. Identical faces, identity found.
A head rolled away. Slick red blood now shone,
rather than the sharp grey of steel. More enemy presented themselves before
him, and the defenders continued to cut and stab and kill and protect.
Such was their duty, such was their desire. The break in the wall had taken
little time to form, with the shields of the priestesses now shattered.
It was small, too small for many men to fill at once. But large enough
to break the dam, letting the black waters roar inside. Splattered blood
onto the armor, up the arms and chest. The ivory grip growing looser and
his fingers slipped, catching at the last moment to stab into the face
and up the jaw of a ogre. Big toothed and dull faced, with bulging blue
eyes. Gone and stepped over, the body steaming in the coolness of the night
air.
Why to fight? Why do they come so fast and so desperately? But
in the melee, Balan did not have time enough to worry about ideology. Just
when to slash and when to stab, when to duck and when to scream. Sometimes
he would wish that he would die. Then he wouldn't have to keep on fighting.
But then he would remember something very basic, and for a few more minutes,
continue, until the faces bubbled up in his mind again. Those faces of
the women within the walls. Was their battle any more than his? Battling
time? Simply waiting and worrying and watching and spell casting and praying
and crying and mourning. Keening could be heard from the great walls. New
moans as a companion fell into the ground. A sting in his shoulder, a smooth
slice from a ragged blade. Protect the ones you love. Protect what you
hope for.
Faces. Always faces. The little girls who
were acolytes, who stared round eyed as he had arrived in the city, the
two women with him in tow. The High Priestess, so young and gentle faced,
graciously allowing them sanctuary for the time being. Princess Aurora,
with that worried look when he announced he was going to join the battle
with the guards. How she had wrung her hands and then began to shout at
him, using language he was more than slightly shocked to hear fall from
her lips. His wonderful Princess, always doing something unexpected.
Lady Lightning. Two faces, so similar, overlapping each other,
one familiar and smiling, mist shrouded and bent over a cookfire. The other
in that odd outfit, face set and electricity crackling in battle. Hurry,
Lightning. The Fire Mountain will not survive this. Too many. Just too
damned many.
A new creature, before him. Hooded and black
with gnarled hands. So silent, featureless. Floating. His arm drew up,
leaden with exhaustion. It didn't matter, really, how fresh he would have
been. With unnatural speed, it was before him, and knocking him aside,
body hitting hard as it rammed back into the stone wall of the temple grounds.
Blackness sparkled in his eyes, vision tunneling to see the hands grow
as it fled forward. Choke to death. Air and oxygen growing thin in the
lungs. Such a lousy way to die.
He felt nothing. No impact, no tightness on
his neck. Sitting slumped and dazed, he watched a marvelous thing begin
to happen. Opening and closing his eyes, he thought the bang to his head
was making him see things. Tiny battles were erupting invisibly, the infinite
flood of dark bodies boiling, but not forward. Feeling ill, he tried to
fight off nausea, trying to see what was going on, what was happening.
Before him, the spectral body halted in advance. A man came out of invisibility-
invisibility? No, that was impossible- dazed, he thought that the man must
have just appeared while his vision was still narrow. But there was undoubtedly
a man there now. A new man, fresh and still unbloodied. Though the clangor
of weaponry, only a muttering of words could be heard, indistinguishable
to Balan.
But it had effect on the creature. Water hurled
its way from one hand, sluicing in rings that wrapped from all directions.
It was close enough for Balan to feel the salty spray on his face, thrown
out as the water spun though the air. An arc cut though the whitewater,
and Balan watched the creature become two. On his knees, Balan pressed
himself upward against the wall, picking up his dropped sword. His rescuer
paused a moment, looking down at him. Indigo hair. A wan smile. Silver
eyes.
"You're not dead yet," the man informed him,
then turned to run back into the fray. Balan watched him run off, joining
a mounted woman with long brown hair, pulled into a bun at the back of
her head. She seemed to accept it easily when he joined her, and the pair
vanished into the swirling battle.
They were here. They came. Fighting on our side. Fighting with
us. Against the darkness. Against the demons. Only one word came to his
mind. "Why?"
High above on the towers of the High Mountain,
Lenora choked back a scream. In rejection of what was unfolding below,
she stepped back, finding her arm caught up again by the Northern Princess.
It was as well Rory was there, since Lenora sunk in a pool of black robes.
Pale, her hands trembled. "Oh gods, what's happening? Bellina? Bellina!"
The older woman still stood, watching stonily as boiling pockets of fighting
ruptured, the soldiers that entered the battle from outside appearing and
vanishing as they avoided confrontation, striking without letting the enemy
see or hear them come. The headwoman of the temple watched it with a cold
feeling in her chest, not understanding, not caring. Take advantage of
it now, she reasoned. Deal with the aftermath later.
Another voice was more blunt in explanation.
"Looks like your evil witches came to pull your asses out of the fire."
Chastity was sitting at the top of the steps, looking around the parapets.
Idly, she picked some dirt out from a fingernail with a stiletto. "Nice
of them, huh?"
"Shut up, Chastity," Rory snapped at her irritably.
This was hardly the time for wiseass remarks. The thief shrugged and continued
to pick a nail. "Priestess, please, it's all right.... We need to send
out more of the guard to help them...we can spare some more from the barracks...they've
been able to rest a bit. If we have so many trained magic users that can
fight as well, then we should take advantage of it and-"
"Lenora, she's right," Bellina agreed, turning
to step away from the edge. "We can wait until the enemy cuts down the
witch forces. They're more expendable than our men. Then drive our-"
"You bitch!"
Eyes turned to look at a livid Princess Rory,
who was still on her knees beside Lenora. "How dare you speak to
me that-"
"Shut the hell up! And you listen to me."
Rory's voice dropped low, and she saw Bellina's face harden as she realized
that Rory would not be manipulated or pushed the way Lenora was. Rory stood,
tightly controlling her face. Chastity's eyebrows were up, unsure whether
to be amused or to join in. "You have been killing those people for years
now." Releasing Lenora abruptly, the young High Priestess stared at the
Princess. "And they help you. They're helping you. Look! For the love of
the gods, look out there!" A finger pointed out over the stones that formed
the tower. Smoke drifted up and beyond them. "They've destroyed your shields.
The henge has been taken. They've penetrated the outer wall. They've broken
the backs of our men, and now you're going to just let our last chance
die? What the hell is wrong with you?"
"I have been running the temple of-"
"Headwoman! I did not give you permission
to speak! You are in the presence of the Crown Princess of the North, and
without my and my father's support you would not receive the tithes that
you so proudly distribute!" Rory faced off with the older woman, fists
tight at her sides, face red. "You are outdated, old woman. Your ideals
and your beliefs are what is going to kill this world. You want to kill
them? Is that your vision of the future? You're killing the world, Bellina,
and you don't even know it! Get out! Get the hell out! Lenora is High Priestess,
not you. She runs this temple, not you. Get out! Out!"
A rumble built up in the valley below. The
rumble of engines of war, and the turning of the tide of men. One hundred
witches are a force to be reckoned with, but in contrast to thousands of
anguished demons, there was very little that could be done. They swarmed
through the valley floor, over the sides of the mountain, up over the standing
stones before the drop cliffs, beating outside the doorways and the ground.
Metal burned in the air and blood ran along the ground. Faceless and nameless.
Faceless and united.
"You have no jurisdiction over me, Princess
Aurora," Bellina told her coolly, with the steady gaze that she had earned
though her work. "Your speech is only your opinion, not that of...."
"I agree with her!" Chastity interrupted brightly,
smiling cheerily at Bellina. She tapped her knife to her brow in mock salute.
"No one asked your opinion, whore."
"Oh, now that's just not nice. 'Sides, I happen
to be a thief, not a prostitute."
"Shut up."
"I seem to be getting that a lot today!" Chastity
continued to grin, sounding sweet.
"Both of you," Lenora said quietly. She sat
still on the ground, black robes pooled around her like the tide. Her small
hands held one of the folds tightly, knuckles white. The delicate veins
drew blue under her skin, and her face was shadowed in the darkness. "be
silent." She smoothed the fold in her hands, quietly. "Bellina, you will
go to the armory, and see that the weaponry is distributed between the
men in the barracks. We will be joining our new friends as soon as possible."
"Lenora, I must advise against this-"
"I do not care what you advise, Bellina. I
do not care about your grudge. Go now."
The older woman looked between the three young
ones there. Rory showed no pity or joy. Simply hardness against her. Chastity
was picking her nails again. Lenora did not look up. So the headwoman of
Fire Mountain suddenly found herself discarded. They were so young, in
comparison to her. Children, to her. Children who did not know what they
were doing. Children who were going to run the world. "Yes, High Priestess,"
Bellina said flatly, then walked past Lenora, whisking quietly from the
room, avoiding stepping over Chastity. Her footfalls were light upon the
stone steps, then gone from their hearing.
"Chastity, a favor?"
The thief looked up, mildly surprised to be
called on. She had just followed along up there, for the show. "Yeah?"
"See to it that the priestesses come upon
the wall. All who have magic. We have been running for too long." She stood
slowly, folding her hands. Then she looked at Rory, then Chastity. "Too
long. It is time we took responsibility for our actions. Come. It is time
my people learn to fight again."
Below the gates, a white haired woman stood.
She wore simple clothing, black. When she walked a chime would sound, evidence
of a bell on the anklet she wore. Sweet spicy fragrance swirled around
her, masking her from the smells of death that swam around her. Just beside
the unbreached main gate, she observed with curiosity the ring of stone
pillars. Fingers, they seemed to be the earth reaching for the sky. Four
pillars of granite, heavy beyond compare, and formed before time began,
so it was said. Now under the four full moons, it was bathed in pale lights
of color, yellow and blue, red and green. Off dark armor, too, did the
moonlight shine, the stars dappling the darkness. She wore a cloak and
gathered it around her for warmth. Silence would come soon enough, to replace
the screams of battle. Silence to replace the endless babbling of too many
people. Silence to let the dead rest. The infinite dead. She knew the battle
was near conclusion. Priestesses were trying to help now, up on the walls.
Someone in there had finally decided to work with the 'enemy'. One brain
out of all of them, at least. Guards were backing up any forces outside.
Still, she knew, it was only a matter of time.
There would be no reinforcements from outside.
None from the East. Too poor, too old fashioned. They'd be likely to side
with her more than anything. The East she would leave alone. The West was
withdrawn, too worried about their own concerns. They grew fat on their
own self satisfaction. The South? The North? Clashed in battle, days ago
now. Main armies decimated, both now kingless and without rulers. For what?
Nothing. The taking of the Fire Mountain was a step towards the future
she desired. The future she was creating. Calculated so carefully. And
so with her duty here complete, she sought a faerie road, and stepped onto
it.
It would be over soon.
Within the circle of stones, a slight wind
caught against the dry dirt on the ground. A moment passed, and the circling
grew stronger, forcing the creatures that stood there to back away to make
room. This was a road of light, white light that formed from the ground
and grew around a pair of lightly placed feet. The cool cloudless night
parted a moment for the silent entrance of this new player. Her eyes were
closed, dark lashes brushing her cheeks. As the brightness died away, the
wind that caressed her let go of a swirling cloud of hair, letting it fall
once again. In awe, the wide eyed creatures watched her raise her head,
open her eyes and look around.
Black boots, high and topped with white. Short
skirt of black, collar of black, choker of black, a star in its center.
Bow on her chest and back dark red. Hair falling long and dark green to
her knees, pulled back and spun into a bun. Long white gloves that covered
her elbows. Hands that gripped a scrolled silver staff. She turned around,
looking at the pillars of stone, looking at the blast scars upon
the walls of the temple. Looked and saw the battle that raged around the
corner of the western wall. Watched a man struck down by a club, brains
bashed out onto the ground. Her stomach turned over, feeling ill.
"Always battle," she spoke, hands tight on
her staff. "Never ending."
The silent spell around her cracked, then
shattered. Demon faces focused on the soldier before them, surrounded by
them. One creature, a large, bulky thing, fanged with teeth that protruded
though its face, swung a club over its head. It was an inelegant weapon,
but whether clubbed or cut, dead was still dead. Did it matter how the
end came? So long as it was effective. So many debates over the ends justifying
the means.
The woman did not panic, seeing the thing
lumber at her, charging. She lifted her staff to the air, and mist gathered
around the garnet orb that rested in the center of a heart shaped scroll.
Quietly, very quietly, she whispered, "Dead Scream."
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