"WHAT?" he bellowed. The Count was unfazed. "How could someone sneak in like that?" the lord ranted, jumping up from his chair and pacing back and forth. "With all the security we have placed around them? I could have lost my captives! The captives that are essential to my plans!" He turned to glare at the other man. "Count Dekim," he snarled. "Those guards were to be chosen and placed by you. I see you have made a mistake. Now, if this mistake had been corrected by another of your chosen guards, perhaps I would be more lenient. However, you are not new to this job and I expect much better of you. One more mistake," the lord's eyes darkened, "and I may have to permanently remove you from your position." The Count smiled courteously. "But of course, my liege, it won't happen again," Dekim said all-too sweetly. "If I may take my leave sir..." He began to leave the room when the shouts were heard.
*~*
"DUO! Duo put me down!! Or slow down!!" Hilde shrieked, half frightened and half exhilarated. It seemed elves had no problems with speed even when carrying others around. Hiiro rolled his eyes again. Relena sighed and noted again that, if he kept this up, perhaps he should be able to look back into his head in a very short amount of time. She looked over at Catherine's boy, Trowa. They had all met in the woods, just where Hiiro had said they would meet. Then she gazed at Zechs, and finally Quatre. Where Hiiro was sweet and Duo was charming, Quatre was even more so. As of now he was patiently explaining things to Dorothy, who seemed confused by the entire matter still. "So, they're used as means of engagement?" she asked. "Not exactly," Quatre said. "They are more of the actual ring itself at the ceremony. Engagement rings are given before the event takes place, correct?" Catherine smiled to herself. The way that they were teaching each other about their cultures seemed fascinating to her. Especially since the elven customs seemed ultimately more romantic than their own... "Oh! I get it!" Dorothy exclaimed blissfully. "I understand now! Thank you!" She reached out and gave Quatre a monstrous hug. The gentle boy blushed slightly but returned the hug, only with a little less fervor. They waded through a small stream, following Hilde's shouts. *~* "Intruder! Lord Dermail!" the shouts rang through the empty hall. Count Dekim turned on his heel and listened as guards came stampeding into the room. "Lord Dermail! Count Dekim!" one exclaimed breathlessly. "Something in... the women's quarters again!" The lord sneered at Dekim as the guard continued. "It seems to be a shadow, my liege! We can't capture it, can't touch it! It moves around so quickly, and things shatter before it even reaches them!" More shouts came from outside, and the guard took his leave to help the others. "DEKIM!" Dermail roared. "This is it! Had I not depended on you to pick competent guards, this would not be happening!" The burly lord rose and stood in front of the other man. "I am afraid that I will have to have you removed," the lord said icily. He snapped his fingers for his personal guards to come forward. "Get rid of him," he snarled. Dekim smirked. "Begging your pardon, liege," he said sassily, "but do not think that I will be rid of so easily. You see," he began as a multitude of castle guards stepped forward from the shadows to back him, "this continent, as well as all the others, will need an able ruler when they are united under one. Someone like... oh, let's say, ME." The Count drew a dagger. Dermail's eyes widened. "Oh, do you like it?" Dekim asked banefully. "I had the poison on the tip made specially for you." "Why... why you..." Dermail began. The dagger slashed and he doubled over in front of his chair, still standing partially. "Too bad you won't live to see me rule my countries," Dekim said mockingly. "All these soldiers will, however." "They... won't obey... you... for long..." the lord struggled to say. "Oh, won't they?" the empowered Count replied. "I have a little help in controlling them, do I not?" he asked the air. "Yyyyyyeeeesssssssss..." a crafty voice hissed. A hovering black shape appeared over Dekim's right shoulder. "May I introduce my aide, Lord Dermail," Dekim said. "His mind controlling techniques are unmatched, and the only prize he desires is the ultimate suffering of others." The lord looked up into the evil Count's face. "You won't... hunters will... stop you..." he groaned, and the defeated lord fell to the floor. Dekim smiled, eyes hungry with desire for power. "Now I am Lord Dekim," he said aloud. 'And, for my first task, to rid myself of those bothersome hunters.'
*~*
Their swords continued to clash. How long they had fought, she did not know, nor did she care. She had anger and assertiveness inside her that she needed to release. He had anger and pride driving him. She remembered...
She had come almost face-to-face with him when she entered the area of the waterfall.
"What, are you always here?" she asked, a little surprised. She hadn't expected to encounter him so quickly.
"I should ask you the same," he said, still staring out over the fall. He barely seemed to blink. He turned to her, and she thought she saw such sadness behind his eyes...
"So why are you always here?" she asked a little more gently.
"This is my place," he replied. "The nature here agrees with me. I found my place to be in this forest. I will always be here unless I am forced to leave, and I do mean forced," he added, gazing at her purposefully. She drew her sword slowly as he stood.
"Then we begin," she said softly but meaningfully. The two spears of metal touched, and their battle began with fervor and energy. Now, they were tired. She felt her thrusts getting more haphazard and less powerful every time, and she knew that he was feeling the effects of the long fight as well.
"Why don't you stop?" she asked as they fought.
"Because I won't," he said with a slight growl. They fought another few minutes, neither gaining an upper hand.
"Why not?" she demanded.
"Why won't you?" he countered. She held her thoughts as her sword kept moving. Why wouldn't she stop? Was it because she believed in a cause? No, well, what the hell was it then?! "Well?!" he challenged.
"You answer first! I won't stop because I'm fighting for the honor of the one I love! The one I lost!" she exclaimed immediately. She knew it was true. Although he was dead, she still loved Anthony with all her heart. If she accomplished this... maybe it would earn her Dekim's respect and Anthony could be proud of her again, wherever he was. Her sword had almost ceased its movements. Though he had the advantage, he did not seize it immediately. He looked her in the eyes. "And I am fighting for my lost love," he said. She didn't just see the sadness in his heart, she could hear it in his voice and feel it in the air around them. He backed her up to the edge of the ledge, pointing his sword at her slender neck. "I believe that the battle is over," he said. She could have stabbed herself for being so careless and letting her emotions get the best of her. She prepared herself.
'At least I can be with Anthony,' she thought. He snuffed, and she opened her eyes. He was looking at her in nothing but pure disgust.
"Giving up so easily? Women like you don't deserve to posses such weapons," he said as he nudged her sword. "I can't believe you would go without struggling in the least bit!" His face reflected his words as voices were heard from the forest. What Sally saw was her friends emerge from the woods, gallivanting around with a bunch of elven boys. What the other girls saw was Sally on her knees in front of an elven boy and the latter aiming a sword for her neck.
"Uh, Wufei, we brought the girls you wanted to se-" Duo began, putting Hilde down.
"Forget it," Wufei spat. "If they're anything like this one," he glared at Sally, "they aren't worth it. Nahala." Sally guessed that the last word was a command in elvish, for the boys, with some hesitation, followed Wufei out of the area, leaping into trees and disappearing into the now night air. Sally stood and sheathed her sword.
"Sally! Sally, are you all right?" Dorothy asked. Sally said nothing.
"Sally?" Catherine ventured. She definently did not like the look on the older woman's face.
"Forget it," came a cold, harsh voice. A voice none of them knew, yet it came from the woman they thought they had known. The new voice continued. "Back to camp." And without a word, the girls followed.
:. *~*~* .: