NOTE: I forgot to put this in Part 1 so I think I'll just add it now. If one of you out there dares to steal any of my characters or ideas, I'll personally hunt you down and kick your ass. Nuff said. ^_^ Enjoy Part 4!
The War of the Assassins
Part 4
For the first time, Heero was able to see Siren clearly, face to face. He had grown a lot in the past three years, and was taller than her by a few inches, but he was still able to plainly assess all of her features. Being so close, he had to admit it: Siren was beautiful. She was slender, strong, proud, voluptuous, and graceful with strong bones and clear features. She was wearing a simple, tight-fitting, black jumpsuit and her long midnight blue hair elegantly accented the color. Stray strands of her hair danced in the balmy breeze, and curved coyly around her body.
She would've been exquisitely flawless if not for her eyes, those inky black eyes that seem to burn with hatred as she gazed at Heero. He involuntarily shuddered. It was an eerie sight, especially now as he discovered that Siren's eyes no longer had whites - they were completely swallowed by black, as if her eyes had been torn out, leaving nothing but gaping holes in her pale face like eye sockets in a skull.
"Heero Yuy..." Siren said huskily. Yes, Siren, not Diablo, those words were spoken out loud in that same seductive, sweet, musical feminine voice.
Heero was caught off guard, and the Zero System offered him no answers. It seemed almost as puzzled as he was. "What happened to Diablo?" he asked darkly.
Siren laughed prettily. "Oh I wouldn't worry about him..." She smiled up at him and said very softly, "Diablo's gone. It's just you and me, Heero. All to ourselves..."
That was just too suspicious sounding for comfort, but before Heero could protest, Siren had drew herself closer; he instinctively put up a hand with his palm facing outwards as if to ward her off. She smiled and gently interlocked the fingers of her left hand with his outstretched one. Heero gasped in surprise at her touch; it felt like a bolt of electricity shooting up his arm. And yet at the same time it was pleasantly intoxicating...he involuntarily closed his eyes in bliss. She began to lightly stroke his arm with her fingertips. God, that feels good. He gradually opened his eyes and once again drunk in her figure. She was exquisitely, almost painfully, beautiful. Desire welled up inside of him as he began to reach for her with his free hand. The Zero System flashed in alarm and he immediately stopped, with his hand only partially outstretched, hanging slackly in midair. Something's wrong.
Heero suddenly tried to jerk himself away from her, but she locked her eyes on his and he froze under her intense gaze. Her eyes...they were violet again, a deep and endless pool of brilliant violet light. So captivating were those eyes, so enthralling was her cool touch, that he did not notice Siren slowly bringing up the blazing sword she still clutched in her other hand, neither did he notice her satisfied smile. Heero had completely lost himself in those eyes, like he was so often lost in Relena's ocean-blue gaze. Relena. The thought of her abruptly snatched him out of his hazy fog.
He successfully tore himself away from Siren's deadly gaze, and clumsily staggered away from her. Her triumphant smirk gradually faded. Heero shivered feverishly, hot and cold all at once, realizing what she had done to him, of how very close he had been to death.
But she did not give up so easily. "Even the Perfect Soldier can be seduced by a Siren," she murmured quietly, almost to herself. Heero knew that what she said was true - she had seduced him; he had felt the desire, the overwhelming need to have her. He was suddenly flooded by guilt. What will Relena say?
"Aww...don't feel bad," Siren cooed reassuringly, as if she had heard his thoughts. "No man can resist me...including you, Heero Yuy. In fact I don't think you really want to..." She smiled at him again, a lazy, sensuous smile, while desire burned plainly in her eyes.
Siren suddenly drew close to him again, dangerously close, and placed her left hand on Heero's muscular chest, letting Diablo in her right hand hang slackly at her side. He immediately felt that feeling again, that feeling of drowning in her presence, in her touch, that feeling of overwhelming desire. But he recognized it now, and so did the Zero System, and therefore was able to save himself. He grasped her wrist firmly and tore it away from his body, and then grabbed her shoulders and roughly pushed her away. Siren staggered back a few yards with a look of shock on her elegant face.
Heero glared at her, coldly angry. "Drop the act, Diablo. It's not working," he said fiercely.
Siren quickly regained her composure and grinned wickedly, and this time the harsh voice of Diablo answered him. "Well, well, well...it looks like you're more stubborn than I thought Heero Yuy. Or else your woman waiting for you back home can possibly give you more than I can." Siren threw back her head and laughed with the voice of Diablo at the sheer absurdity of the latter. The laughter looked and sounded decidedly odd. Odd? Heero thought to himself while she continued laughing. That's not even the beginning of it. A woman with a man's voice and soul just tried to seduce you. Now THAT'S odd. Eventually, she calmed down and looked at Heero with an expression of sardonic amusement. Her eyes had become black and fiery again.
Heero was extremely tired of her calling him by his full name, and was furious at her insult to Relena, but he did not say so. It was not necessary to complete his mission. "You're not speaking into my mind anymore. I didn't know that you were capable of speaking out loud."
She grinned, and yet again, Diablo spoke for her, "You don't know a lot of things I'm capable of." Siren then looked him up and down, just as he had done to her, and licked her lips. This time, her true, feminine voice spoke, "You really are a gorgeous man, Heero, even with the silly helmet. It was worth the magic to deceive you, if only temporarily."
He felt a little less guilty at her admission; at least part of his unfaithfulness could be blamed on her magic, but it was not the time to be thinking of such things. Zero told him that the two voices were one and the same; there were not two separate entities contained in one body, it was all Diablo. The system only confirmed his suspicions. "Stop using Siren's voice to try to trick me, Diablo," Heero said coldly. "I didn't come here to be seduced, I came here to fight."
Siren smiled. "Very well." She looked at him consideringly for a moment, and noticed his unarmed state. "But I am not entirely without honor. It just wouldn't be fair - nor would it be a challenge - if I just cut you down with you standing here weaponless."
Heero did not reply, and certainly did not trust the quality of any weapon given to him by her, but he really had no choice.
Siren took his silence as an affirmative and gracefully bent down and plucked a single blade of bright green grass. She held Diablo very close to the grass, almost so that the ebony flame that burned around the blade was touching it. She then muttered a few twisty, foreign words and gently touched the tip of her flaming sword to the piece of grass. It did not burn, as Heero expected, but merely grew longer and wider. A sharp point appeared on one end and a wooden, cross-shaped hilt on the other. In a matter of seconds, the blade of grass had become a bright green sword.
Heero was only mildly surprised. He had gotten rather used to Siren's magic. If I survive this, I don't think I'll ever be shocked by anything again.
She tossed the sword casually to him and he caught it easily. It was moderately heavy, but could be held in one hand, maneuverable, and long. Though it was large, it was definitely not Siren's huge broadsword. It looked like a claymore, though Heero was not an expert in swords. He had never used a claymore before, but he knew how to fence. Heero had been the best fencer at Relena's school; that had to count for something. In fact, he had impaled a sword through the mask of one of her annoying, superficial guy friends. Heero smiled faintly at the memory. It had been so long ago…
Diablo's dissonant voice interrupted his thoughts. "Is it suitable?" he asked with the manner of one who doesn't really care.
Heero scowled. "It is acceptable," he lied through his teeth. The sword could be easily broken in one powerful slice by Diablo. Not to mention the magic Siren would most likely be casting on it or him while they were fighting. But still...with his skill and the Zero System on his side, he might just have a chance. That reminded him of something Quatre had once said. Ah yes, losing battles…he hoped that he was still good at fighting them.
Siren was already in her battle stance: alert, with feet apart and holding the blazing Diablo with both of her hands to provide more devastating strikes. "Are you prepared to die?" Diablo asked him forebodingly.
Heero smirked slightly and raised his absurdly colored sword with both of his hands. He replied coolly, "I always have been," and immediately rushed at Siren with claymore raised high.
********************************
The sun cast a few brilliant rays of yellow light on his handsome face, and subsequently woke him up. He slowly opened his eyes and looked fondly at the young woman sleeping quietly next to him. She was beautiful, a downright goddess. The sun shone its golden light upon her, making her glow with a soft gold aura in place of her normal sky blue one. Only the supernatural possessed gold auras. It only strengthened his belief that the woman he was fortunate enough to sleep with was a goddess come to walk with him on Lothos.
Eighteen-year-old Strife quietly watched her sleep for a few more moments, feeling at peace with himself. He gingerly untangled himself from her long strands of midnight blue hair and silently got out of bed. He did not wish to wake her, it was not time for their classes yet. Strife felt much too awake to go to sleep again, though, and decided to warm up a bit first.
He quietly got dressed and padded to the bathroom to wash up. When he opened the door, he received the shock of his life - she was already awake and ready to shower.
"My God, Odessa," he said a bit breathlessly, "I could've sworn you were asleep. You scared me half to death!"
She smiled back at him, violet eyes twinkling. "Tsk tsk, Strife Mercury," she chastised in mock seriousness, while adjusting her beige bathrobe. "You should have more faith in my abilities. You know that I can sense the change in your aura even while I'm sleeping...not to mention you woke me up when you suddenly stopped snoring!"
Strife pretended to be offended. "Snore?! What the hell are you talking about? I don't snore."
Odessa snorted, and then her face softened. "I mean no offense, dear, but you really do snore..." and then a mischievous glint appeared in her eyes as she continued playfully, "Considering how loud you are, its a wonder that I can actually sleep at all!"
He glared at her and then suddenly moved close and started tickling her. In between mad fits of laughter, she shrieked at him to stop. He did eventually, but only because he was too busy kissing her to spare any energy tickling her. She was warm, soft, and sweet.
Odessa pulled away first, and looked up at him with love reflecting in her bewitching eyes. "I think..." she said quietly before pausing to catch her breath. "I think we should stop this before we're late for Training..."
Strife smiled at her subtle implication. She was right though, at this rate, they would be late for Training - because they'd probably be back in bed doing something much more fun. He shook her head a bit ruefully; she always seemed to be right more often than he was, even though he was a year older. "Alright then." He let her go take a shower as he washed up. She was still showering when he finished.
"Hey, Odessa!" he shouted over the sound of pouring water, "I'm going to go warm up a bit, I'll meet you in the Meadow alright?"
"Okay, I'll see you there within 15 minutes!" she shouted back.
Strife walked out of the bathroom humming nonsensically and fluidly harnessed his sword. The black leather harness crossed in a diagonal line across his chest from his shoulder to his right hip with Ragnarok's crimson hilt poking up from behind his left shoulder. He felt his Blade Soul gradually wake up, probably from the intense happiness he was feeling.
Rag yawned. "Well you're certainly in a good mood...oh let me guess. You spent the night with Odessa." she stated somewhat sarcastically. It was not a question.
He refused to be goaded by his spunky Blade Soul. "Sure did Rag," he beamed, "And it was a helluva night. But c'mon, we have work to do."
Rag snorted, skeptical. "Speak for yourself, loverboy."
Strife laughed. He just felt good to be alive, and felt even better as he walked into the soothing Meadow. He smoothly unsheathed Rag and felt her potent red aura flow into him. It felt invigorating.
With red fire slicing through the magic-filled air, he ran through a few drills and was about to cast a recently learned fireball spell when he felt another aura in the Meadow. But it was not Odessa's. Strife sighed wearily as he recognized the calculating, manipulative, dark green aura.
"Oh for God's sake, not HER again," Rag lamented.
He smiled slightly at her comment, and turned to face his visitor.
Rag was surprised. "Uh...Strife, what are you doing?"
"I'm not going to run away from her any longer," he replied firmly.
"But - she might cast a Psyche Spell on you...at least cast a Resist." she protested.
Strife ignored Rag. He refused to be intimidated by his visitor any longer. He felt confident, strong, healthy, and was in a great mood - he wasn't about to let her ruin his excellent day.
He eyed the young woman steadily. "What do you want, Aerowyn?"
Aerowyn Silverlye raised an eloquent eyebrow. "Is this how you treat an old friend, Strife?" she inquired, sounding hurt.
He glared balefully at the golden haired woman with the forest green eyes. 'Old friend' indeed. She had manipulated him into dating her when they had been fellow trainees at the beginning dojo for Assassins. He had just barely been able to get himself out of her trap. Unfortunately, Aerowyn had been in his classes ever since. He just couldn't seem to get rid of her. Now that he was with Odessa, she wanted him more than ever, and had become a total hell to be around.
"Stop following me around," Strife replied succinctly.
She did not become angry, which he had expected. Instead, she just smiled and minutely adjusted her glowing green Blade, Daedalus. He immediately felt her begin to gather magic and saw Daedalus glow a little brighter.
Rag was anxious. "Strife, don't be an idiot. Cast a Resist Spell!"
"No. Let it come," he replied to her calmly. He knew he could resist her Psyche Magic on his own - he didn't need any magic. No, that's the last thing I should do. If I cast magic, then she wins. "Have a little faith, Rag."
Now Aerowyn herself was glowing brighter. Daedalus practically pulsed with waves of bright green light running up and down its blade.
Rag was not giving up. "Damn your pride Strife! Listen to me!" she shouted fiercely. "You won't be able to resist the spell on your own. She's strong - too strong! Can't you feel it in her aura?"
Strife did not reply. He saw her wield her Blade delicately, cutting and weaving various Threads; the residual green glow left intricate patterns in the air. He tried to read the pattern so that he could identify her spell.
"What is that?" he asked Rag, bemused. He had never seen that particular pattern before. But supremely confident, he still did not move to defend himself.
"Oh SHIT! She's casting Charm and Odessa's going to be here any minute! CAST RESIST!!!" Rag yelled frantically.
The sudden realization of his peril finally caused Strife to hurriedly begin to cast Resist. But it was already too late. Aerowyn finished her pattern and swung Daedalus in a diagonal slash through the air. The bright green Charm Spell was headed right to him.
The next thing Strife knew, Aerowyn was in his arms and he was kissing her passionately. God, what am I doing? I don't want her, I want Odessa. Damn it, I LOVE Odessa, so stop doing this!! But the Charm Spell was too strong. Even as he tried to pull himself away, he felt inexplicably drawn to Aerowyn, as if she were some kind of magnet. He had dropped his Blade on the ground, but he could still speak to her. "Rag...HELP ME!"
His Blade Soul sounded strangely faint and weak. "Strife, I'm trying...but I can't!" she said desperately. "She's too strong for us and she's blunting my power. Oh God, here comes Odessa!"
Strife tried harder than ever to resist the spell, but it was futile. He was still kissing Aerowyn when he felt Odessa's aura. There's something wrong with her...
"Crap, she fell into one of Aerowyn's traps! She's got a Muddle Spell cast on her!"
Things were going quickly from bad to worse. Aerowyn suddenly pulled away from him, and it was all he could do to keep his hands off of her. There was a look of immense satisfaction in her forest green eyes. Strife quickly turned to look at Odessa. Her normally placid sky blue aura had turned a deep crimson red. She was angry, angrier than he had ever seen her; too angry to even notice the Muddle Spell that Aerowyn had cast on her. But that was one of the reasons why Muddle worked, it confused and contorted everything so much that even Assassins had trouble detecting it. And Odessa was only a Rookie.
"Odessa..." Strife began desperately. He wished to say so much more, but a sharp look from Aerowyn made him forget the other woman entirely. He only knew that he wanted Aerowyn, badly. He stepped close behind her, and ran his fingers through her golden hair, all the while hating himself.
The incongruous act snapped an already strained and confused Odessa. "You bastard!" she cried furiously. "How dare you? You said that the relationship between you and Aerowyn was over. How dare you lie to me like that?!"
"Strife, you better say something real quick or else you're going to lose Odessa forever!" Rag said fiercely.
He fought the strong urge to kiss Aerowyn and tried frantically to explain. His mouth felt clumsy and heavy. "No. I...Charm," he finished lamely. Aerowyn shifted slightly so that she was facing him. The words he wanted to say so badly stuck in his throat. She was so close...too close...the spell won and Strife leaned in to kiss her.
He heard Odessa's outraged cry while his mouth was entrapped with hers. It tore apart his heart knowing that he was hurting Odessa so, but Strife just couldn't stop himself. Aerowyn pulled away gently. She eyed Odessa with contempt, "Don't you see? Strife is mine now. I obviously have some charm that you don't." Odessa's eyes flashed dangerously, but Aerowyn continued mercilessly, "Fool. He never loved you. He was just using you!"
Unable to speak, Strife fervently tried to express with his eyes that was she said was a lie, but Odessa did not see. Her face showed complete disbelief, but the Muddle Spell was slowly but surely doing its work. He could see that she wanted to deny what Aerowyn said, but she couldn't. He watched in horror as her violet eyes began to shine with unshed tears. She's starting to believe her...
Aerowyn continued to taunt her, trying to push her over the edge. "It seems that your loverboy has finally discarded his little toy," she said mockingly, her voice dripping with scorn. "Now leave us!"
"You have to do something Strife!" Rag shouted frantically.
But it was too late. With the combination of Muddle and her own secret doubts, Odessa believed everything that Aerowyn said. She glared at him with a look of pure hatred. Her voice trembled with anger, "I wish that I never met you, you heartless, two-faced, lying, player! God, just looking at you makes me sick! I never want to see you again!!" She turned and stalked away, shoulders heaving from silent sobs.
"No, wait!" Strife cried out in anguish. He stumbled away from Aerowyn, all the while needing desperately to go back to her. "Odessa, stop! Please! I love you!"
She ran even faster when she heard his desperate words, blue hair glinting in the sunlight. She stopped only to unsheathe her bright yellow Blade, Lumina, and made a few quick cuts in the air. She completely disappeared from sight a few seconds later.
Aerowyn dropped her Charm Spell the second he could no longer detect Odessa's aura. Strife hardly even noticed. He slumped down on his knees and shakily picked up Rag. "Where is she?" he rasped out loud.
"Strife...I don't know. I can't detect her anywhere. She must be on another planet already," she replied, sounded strangely subdued.
Aerowyn smiled, with a look of sardonic amusement on her face. "Perhaps you shouldn't have taught the Mercenary how to Slice before she was ready," she remarked dryly.
A burning rage filled his body as he slowly straightened up at the sound of her voice. "You...you're the one who caused all of this!" Strife said darkly. Ragnarok blazed fiercely in his hands.
The tall flaxen-haired woman chuckled. "No Strife, it was as much your fault as it was mine," she replied steadily, casually picking up her own Blade.
A red haze filled his vision and his blood was boiling with anger. God how he hated her. He hated her with every atom of his being. An intense scarlet flame flared around Rag, demanding to be released.
"We'll make her pay," Rag said, her voice deadly.
Strife agreed with her wholeheartedly. "Burn, you bitch!" he shouted at Aerowyn furiously, flinging a fireball from his burning Blade. Strife didn't waste any time forming intricate patterns with Threads, though it was a stronger and more accurate way to cast spells. He just gathered his enraged aura into a ball at the tip of Ragnarok and threw it. He did not stop, mercilessly flinging red-hot fireball after fireball, until he and Rag were completely drained.
The unnatural red smoke gradually cleared, and Strife was not very surprised to find that Aerowyn was gone. She had probably cast a shield and Sliced out of there as fast as she could. His insane anger slowly faded as he realized that she had finally left him alone, and it was replaced instead by overwhelming grief.
Strife collapsed exhausted and heartbroken onto the grass, dropping his Blade clumsily beside of him. He started to cry, anguished. Even the Meadow couldn't soothe him. "Rag..." he sobbed, "Oh God, Rag, what have I done? Aerowyn's right - this is my fault. My fault."
"Shh. It's okay, Strife. We'll find her, don't worry," she replied softly, trying futilely to calm him down.
"No. Even if we do find her, she hates me. Didn't you hear her? She never wants to see me again!" he shouted into the Meadow. The words had been almost too painful to say; even now they cut into him like a knife. Crushed by sorrow, Strife continued to cry, and nothing Rag said or did could make him stop.
********************************
Strife woke up and found himself in the Meadow, with a blade of grass scratching his nose. He reached up to rub it and discovered that his face was wet. They're tears, he realized in disbelief. He suddenly remembered his dream and started to uncontrollably shake. It was so real...almost as if I was actually there...
Damn it, get a hold on yourself. He shook his head as if to erase the dream and unsheathed Ragnarok. She was warm, and her fiery red aura gradually seeped into his. Just holding her completely woke him up. But the dream was still there, in the corner of his mind. Rag shared his dreams, so he decided to consult her.
Strife mostly spoke to her telepathically only when other people were in earshot. He was utterly alone in the Meadow and therefore asked her out loud, "Hey, Rag...about that dream that I had - it was so real...could you explain it to me?"
Rag was uncertain, he could feel it. He knew that what she was about to say she really didn't want to say to him, but did so only because he asked. "Strife," she began a bit shakily, "that wasn't just a simple dream...that was a memory."
He started. A memory?! "No," he blurted out in disbelief. But even as he denied it, he knew that Rag was right. Strife could still feel the anguish, the crushing sorrow that he had felt in his dream. Now that he thought about it, he realized that he could remember every single insignificant detail of that event. The color of Odessa's bathrobe, the tune that he was humming, the color of the sky...nobody remembered their dreams so clearly.
"But - I didn't even know that that happened until now," Strife protested. "How come I couldn't remember it? And how come everything I remember about Odessa is different from my dream?" His memories had always told him that he had met Odessa at one of the Baron's parties when she hadn't yet become an Assassin. He had always thought that he had dated her for a little bit and then broke up when he was sent on his first mission. His dream - no his memory - contradicted everything that he had believed for the past three years.
"Oh for God's sake Strife, you're smarter than that," Rag retorted, sounding exasperated. "Someone obviously cast a Forget Spell on you - probably your Sensei - but it didn't work. That memory of yours just ended up buried in some dusty corner of your brain and was replaced by others. Those other fake memories that you have tell you that you still had a relationship with Odessa, and that you still slept with her, but they also indicate that you never really loved her and left her because of your job. Like all Assassins should," she said bitterly. "Remember? Rule Number Four, Strife: The sword comes before any relationship."
Strife was shocked speechless at Rag's embittered speech. But he had known all along that something was wrong with what he remembered about Odessa - he had just refused to admit it. That's why Rag knew...she always knew, just like I did. She just didn't want to tell me before I was ready.
Only one question remained in his mind, "Why did he do this to me?"
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey, if you want me to continue writing, you better email me. Why? Because why should I bother writing if I don't even know if anyone is reading my fanfic?! It takes a lot of work to write this and I could really use some feedback to motivate me. Or else I'm just going to stop right now. So email me! You don't even have to write more than one word. Just 'good' or 'bad' would do. Alright, enough ranting. Just do it: Cutlass317@aol.com