Author: Adelaide
Summary: A-dur. War.
Frozen Fire
December 29, 1999
"The wards are set, no need to worry about them," Aradia informed him before he could ask such a stupid question. Although she never showed it, she could become irked just as everybody else did. But it was not Maiden like.
"Ah…yes, right," Thierry muttered quickly and scanned the area for the slightest problems. Under the circumstances, the Daybreakers were going to need as much comfort that could be given on a piece of an ice some called an island. Damned Clan island was a fitting name.
From the large rock he was standing on, he saw that the tents were being pitched in a disorganized fashioned, unlike the neat rows Rashel had planned. He stopped himself from harshly vocalizing his disapproval when he saw why; the terrain was full of the snow covered rocks like the one he was standing on, and the snow probably hid dozens of man sized pits, all which the builders cleverly avoided. As of late, he hadn't been thinking problems through and therefore fell into embarrassing moments.
"Hannah helped me think," he said aloud, as if offering some excuse to nobody in particular. The few who passed him paid him little attention, because a more important job was at hand. Preparing for the Final Battle was the only thing that clouded their minds. Thierry remembered himself and left the rock to do what help he could offer.
A moment or two afterward, a small, pixie like girl climbed into the spot her boss had vacated and put a hand to her head in an attempt to block the sun from her eyes. Thoughtfully, she decided to bend a little on one leg and move the other behind her. There. A living statue. Poppy giggled at her silliness but then resumed at the task at hand.
"Poppy North!" Normally James' voice was anything but startling, but now that it was, Poppy nearly fell from its intensity. Luckily, she landed directly into her soul mate's arms.
"Now is not the time to play games," he reprimanded sternly as he let go. Poppy felt a stab of annoyance and soon it showed on her face.
"For your information. Mr. I Think I Know Everything, I was not playing games. Jez told me to find Warren, because he is needs to unload the food supplies for Section B. Is that all right with you?" She finished in her best Mari Tybal impression. He winced.
"Yes. Sorry, I just thought…sorry," James mumbled. She's not a child idiot, he told himself. Stop thinking she's going to behave like one.
"Better listen to your smarter part of the brain there, honey," Poppy told him with a smile before she caught Warren over his shoulder. "Warren!" James smiled at her fleeting form before moving to the docks to greet the last of the fighting Daybreakers.
Trent Mapleston was already directing the newcomers to their tents…which was James' job. For a moment Rasmussen was confused at the sight but then remembered he was a few minutes late. Normally, a few minutes hardly counted as late, but now everything was planned up to the second, even the arrival of ships and planes. James was glad Thierry wasn't around to yell at him. Ever since Hannah's disappearance, their leader had been on edge.
"Hey Trent I'll take over now," he told the boy. Trent nodded and went off to his assigned job. Everybody worked now. Even on breaks, they were restless so helped others who were still on duty. Being on the Damned Clan Island gave the same feeling that a cemetery gave on Halloween's midnight.
Surprisingly, Keller and Galen were one of the last ones to step onto the dock. Keller and Galen, two of the most brilliant strategists, who should have been at the battle island as soon as possible, were the last ones.
"She's been feeling a bit…under the weather," Galen explained to James in a subdued voice. They both turned to Keller, who was running to get their luggage, and then running back with two suit cases in each hand.
"Really?" James was confused but also amused by his friend's definition of "under the weather." Galen gave a shake of his head that suggested that he was just as baffled by his wife's behavior as James.
"Well, you're going to tent thirty seven in section P. Don't worry, the tents are a lot roomier than they look." With a thanks, Galen left James and helped Keller with the bags.
"Over here," he pointed toward their tents with his head. Keller unceremoniously threw their bags inside the white tent and rolled out her sleeping bag. Galen stood for a moment outside before following her. He was surprised to see that he could stand without bumping into anything. He was surprised again to see his wife sprawled on her sleeping bag at his feet. "Keller?" Galen bent down and saw that she was almost asleep.
"Keller, we have to set up the air mattress first. Are you sure you're not sick anymore?" It was a question he had asked many times before, but he also knew he had gotten an untruthful answer each time.
"Jet lag?" she offered sleepily. Instead of laughing at her attempt of a joke, Galen's brow furrowed.
"Jet lag is the disruption of body rhythms caused by high speed air travel across different time zones. Air travel being the key words there."
"Obviously somebody was bored enough to read Mr. Webster's famous works. Look, Galen, I'm tired. That's all, it's not a huge deal. Aren't you tired?"
"Well, yes…"
"See?" she cut him off. "All we're here to do any way it plan, so they don't need us right now. Just sleep and relax, albeit we're a few days away from an all out battle." Keller felt no need to try to persuade him; it hardly mattered if she had company in her slumber. Drowsily, she heard a sigh and the lonely flap of the entrance of the tent.
Galen squinted against the sun. Dawn had arrived just an hour before, and turned the dark blue banks of snow into blinding hills of whiteness. The tents offered little shelter, considering they were the same shade. Funny, he had never thought he would need sun block on an ice cube of an island. Everybody had arrived now, all there was left to do was last minute training, impromptu battle plans, and the antagonizing task of waiting.
~*~*~*~
December 30, 1999
This was it, the big showdown. Mari walked silently to the top of the snow hill and observed the Night World army below. Many were lounging about smoking, drinking, or catching up with old friends. The vampires, shape shifters, and werewolves didn't mind the cold. Virtually no witches. Everyone showed little sign of worry. There was no doubt in their minds who would win against the pathetic goody goodies. Only the older and wiser citizens pondered the outcomes of the Final Battle.
Somewhere across the vast and blank island, Circle Daybreak was camped out also. But in there camp, there would be warmer tents, more fires, and anxiety. Thoughts of loved ones so very far away.
They shouldn't be here, she thought with quiet desperation. They know what happens when they only have three Wild Powers, they know… It's certain, it's finalized, without me they die. They should be with their families, not freezing on an island just to die a brutal death the next day.
"But at least they're trying," she spoke quietly. Mari hoped nobody would hear her. Somewhere, deep down inside her, so deep inside she wasn't sure if her soul mate had seen it, she was struggling. Maria wanted so badly to run to Circle Daybreak's side and cry a million words of apology. It was eating her up, slowly burning her from inside out. She knew she had a chance to stop all the pain now, to prevent the deaths now. But…Mari let out a sob, letting no tears run from her eyes. Feelings of loss, emptiness, the feelings of despair and worthlessness beat and battered her attempts of redemption.
Nothing, her internal monsters would say, nothing you can do. You're just a pawn to stop the mad and corrupt world. You're nothing don't try to stop what you're meant to be. You came from a nobody you are a nobody; there's nothing you can do…
God, she had tried to stop listening but it was her mind. It was her mind, the one thing that kept her alive in the cruel world all this time and she always listened to it. Proof was all around her. Beautiful supernatural people who looked so wonderful and trustworthy, only hiding a core of evil and deceit in their hearts. The good were the weak and tomorrow they were going to be devoured by evil. Any true goodness and pure hearts were destroyed because they carried cumbersome consciences and moral judgments. Mari didn't want to live in a world where the surviving fittest was evil. The good would never win.
~*~*~*~
Same day
Briar Creek Oregon
"This is the first time I've been afraid of a New Year." Mary Lynnette jumped at the sound of Mark's voice. She hadn't heard him approach the top of the hill. He sat next to her on the car trunk.
"I try not to be afraid, you know," he continued when she didn't respond. "I try to say to myself, the good guys will win, they always do. But then I think of Jade and how strong she is…if the bad guys are stronger than her, we don't stand a chance."
Mary Lynnette looked down from the gray sky and studied her brother. In some ways, he was no different from the little boy scared of the world. Scared of the bad people in it and hurrying to her side when troubled. But this time it was different. Mary Lynnette didn't have a solution to his problems just as she always did in the past. Mark knew that but still came to her on her special hill.
"Mary Lynnette!" He snapped suddenly. "God, I mean I know that now you have a soul mate you can't talk to me about things but you don't have to give me a silent treatment when something important comes up. You" he paused, shrugging with a helpless air, "you never talk to me any more. We used to discuss important things with each other and how we were going to solve it together but now…" He shrugged again and put his head in his hands. "Now, I just want to have a real conversation with my only sister before the world ends."
Suddenly it became so clear to her. For the past year or so, she had let Mark deal with matters himself, so she could adjust to the arrivals and departures of the man who made her whole. He grew up, but still needed her. Despite any changes, despite all the ordeals the two shared together and apart, one thing would always stay the same: Mary Lynnette was his big sister and she would take care of him no matter what.
Taking a deep breath, she said what she thought she should say to her scared younger brother. "Mark, the world won't end."
"Really?" If it was a lie, she didn't care. As long as it kept him safe and happy, she would do it or say it.
"Yes, really. Besides, the planets aligned months ago and nothing happened then. This is just a little bump in the road…" And the real conversation began.
~*~*~*~
Las Vegas Nevada
"When is my big brother coming home?" The little boy, Simon "Simba" Savannah, looked up at Gillian with big brown eyes. It was the first time after their story telling, Twister contest, and SEGA tournament that the children began to wonder where the grown ups fled to. Some of the older kids knew they were off to "negotiate worldly matters," and, since they were sworn to solemn secrecy, spread the ambiguous knowledge to the younger gullible children.
Gillian opened her mouth to ask who exactly his brother was but sighed. It didn't matter; if he wasn't helping with the children, he was most likely off to Gilligan's Isle.
"Didn't you hear the rumor of negotiating worldly matters?" she asked him, hoping to give an answer without lying. He nodded.
"But Lionel says that I shouldn't listen or spread rumors because 'they only leave you alone on Saturday nights.'" Gillian smiled as he quoted his older brother's words of wisdom.
"Well, Simba, sometimes the truth can hurt just as much rumors do. Let's just say your brother is going to a very important meeting."
"What's the meeting about?" He asked as she rose to leave. Gillian wondered worriedly if there were any more inquisitive eight year olds.
"The meeting is about people's rights, or so to speak." He looked puzzled, and then he lit up with realization.
"You mean like freedom of speech?" More like freedom for humans in general. She nodded and he ran off to show off his news to his friends.
There were less elder witches than expected, for although aged, most of the witches were more powerful than some dragons and were needed at the battle site. More Daybreakers had to be called in to baby sit the children. Thankfully the children cooperated obediently, even waking up early to make breakfast and bathe themselves. Unfortunately, she had to salvage what was left of burnt toast while David ran like crazy to stop the naked wet toddlers running amuck down the hall ways.
For the next two hours, she was too busy to answer any questions pertaining the missing adults. There were children to clean up, feed, clean again after the food fight, change into pajamas, and tuck into bed. When she was done sweeping up the last bit of dinner rolls from under the tables, she wound her way through the halls to find most of the young and fit in the living room.
"You arrived just in time," David said as she snuggled next to him on the couch. Dick Clark appeared on the giant screen, thousands of people behind him. Gillian observed the silent people surrounding her. For millions, New Year's Eve was a time for confetti, kisses, and champagne. But for them and their friends and family, it might have been the last moments of their safe world.
~*~*~*~
Sunset
Damned Clan Island
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
The Circle Daybreak army marched silently through the snow with grim faces. Wind beat fiercely about them, yet remained silent. There were no words to describe the fear and determination in their minds.
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
Snow banks were grayish blue in the fading light. Ears with unnatural range picked up sounds of laughter as they neared the battle field. For some, they took steps closer to their graves.
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
Thierry felt jovial thoughts before he saw who thought them. He felt like Jack, trying desperately to outsmart the giant. Except this time the prize was much more valuable than a golden goose. He didn't know who the hell he was trying to fool. Elder he may be, Circle Leader he may be, thousands of years he may have seen…but he had never led an army. And he had never gone into war.
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
But he'd be damned if he let his followers know how scared he was. "I do not think we'll have a determined victory." His loud declaration startled his troops behind him. He continued his brisk march, never turning back to face them. "I do not think we'll defeat the villains with a mighty blow. I do not think we'll destroy these bastards in a few hours."
Crunch.
They reach the edge of the basin. Thierry turned toward his group, the people who knew the odds were not in their favor and yet stayed by his side. His friends, his only family left on earth.
"I do not think we'll win. I know we will." Trepidation written on their faces washed away, revealing solid ferocity. Some were fighting for lost loved ones, some were fighting for son or daughter or sibling in Las Vegas. Some were fighting old friends, some were fighting former allies. Some were fighting their own flesh and blood.
With a last deep breath, he looked at his comrades eyes. Kestrel, Jez, James… He suddenly realized he would rather die than let anyone harm them. With speed formerly reserved to protect others, he turned and swiftly started down the slope of the basin. Others followed seconds later, forming a v formation.
They waited for five whole minutes before running up to meet them. It was an obvious show of arrogance. The dark Night Worlders stood with smug expressions on their faces as they waited for Hunter's signal. At his slightly raised eyebrow, they charged, fangs or claws extending. Bodies became taut and furry.
He sent out orders before Night World could hit. At Thierry's command, the most powerful vampires sent out psychic punches to the approaching beasts. Cheetahs, jaguars, tigers, bears…all fell to the ground. Their bones cracked under the rushing feet of Daybreakers. Hunter copied his move. Thierry spread his thoughts to humans surrounding him, but a good number of humans, 'wolves, and shape shifters on his side momentarily collapsed as witches and vampires blocked the psychic abilities.
Daybreakers broke the v formation to surround the Night Worlders. Night Worlders saw this and rammed and killed the engulfing arms of fighters before they could completely surround.
Thierry blocked the woman's sword with a crushing blow to her wrist. She evaded but fell to the ground on her side. He was knocked on his back by her kick as she jumped up and pulled out a wooden knife. As he took a moment to shake off dizziness, she lunged onto him. At the last second, he put his feet up and kicked her off as soon as she tried to land on him. He jabbed a pressure point in her wrist and caught her knife as she lost all control in her right hand. When he rose, she lay a few feet away from him. He spied a rock under her head, which explained her short episode of confusion. Before she could blink, he stabbed her in the heart.
Just as he slid the knife out, another vampire choked him from behind. He grabbed the arms around his neck and flipped him forward. Thierry began to run towards him before he saw the end of a wooden sword thrust through his back in mid air. With her foot, Kestrel pushed the skewered vampire off her weapon and winked at him. He really didn't approve of her taking crucial seconds to smile at him, but he found himself smiling back. They were both vampires, whether they liked it or not, fighting was in their blood.
Rashel stopped struggling as her captor squeezed all air from her lungs from behind. Her feet were dangling but she couldn't get an angle to kick him. Summoning all her strength from her air deprived body, she tensed her neck muscles and jerked her head backwards. Crack! She pivoted mid air and landed on her feet to face him. In a split second she observed his bloody nose and snap kicked his body to the ground, his silver dagger still held pathetically up. Before she could lunge, she heard running behind her and caught the 'wolf in human form by her shoulders. He sailed through the air and landed directly on the vampire. Ironically enough, the wooden knife he held in his hand killed the vampire, while the vampire's silver dagger pierced through the werewolf's side. She would have taken a moment to admire her handy work, but a bear shifter charged blindly at her before she could even smile.
Poppy didn't think it was fun to kill. But, it was even less fun to die. So she fought with all the tricks Rashel taught her, and sometimes coming up with her own.
Right now, she had to dispatch a pure white tiger. It was so pretty, it almost broke her heart to fight it.
"Come on, Fluffy, you know you want it," she cooed . He snarled and pounced on her. She fell at the sheer weight of the animal. He pinned her arms to the sides, making it impossible to grab her knife. He pulled his head back to bite her neck, and Poppy took the moment to stiffen her body to a crescent shape. She rolled forward, but there wasn't enough room to bash his head. So instead, she spit into his eyes. With a furious roar, the tiger backed off, pawing at his face. Poppy did a triple forward flip and landed behind him. In the midst of his transformation to human form, she thrust her razor edged knife between his ribs. It was her first kill. Poppy hated it and loved it.
Jez knew the elite of Night World warriors was waiting their turn for her. Being a wild power gave her the privileges of battling the most impressive fighters of her past life. Now she concentrated on blocking her opponent's blows. Iron clanked against wood as Jez calculated and blocked the vampire's wooden sword with iron sickles she'd stolen from an unrecognizable burnt body. Every offensive move she threw was also calculated and blocked. Damn, he was good. She whirled on one foot, letting her left foot knock his head aside. Instead of falling, however, he did a one hand cart wheel and landed, facing her vulnerable back. Before he could do so himself, Jez fell purposely to the ground, then rolling from the sword that stabbed the frozen ground next to her head. She grabbed the sword's hilt, and pulled it towards her, allowing her access to the man's arm. In his surprise, he failed to surmise her next move and Jez stabbed the sickle through his fore arm. He yelled in annoyance and stood up. She scrambled off the ground and shook the snow from her hair. Much to her disappointment, he simply tugged the sickle from his arm. The blood stopped flowing and the skin closed over the gory hole. Idiot! She realized belatedly. It's IRON! She would have slapped herself in the forehead if she wasn't so preoccupied.
Now it was just his beautiful, hand crafted, ash wooden sword against her pitiful sickle. I might as well reap wheat fields with this thing, it can't even scratch him, she thought, and for the first time her beautiful face showed worry. The vampire gained confidence. He rushed at her with speed she lacked without blood and swung at her neck. Jez jerked her head down and forward, praying to Goddess the world wouldn't end with her decapitation. Her ears rang as the rounded hilt banged the side of her head. Jez ground her teeth in pain as she lay on the ground. Her adversary was so intent on stabbing her throat he did not notice her desperate fumbling for her last weapon. He raised the sword above her head.
Click. Oh the sweet sound of victory.
Jez pulled out her Snub Nose 48 and released the safety. Without hesitating, she pulled the trigger. He lurched and his pupils dilated, completely covering the whites. With a strained groan, he fell to his knees, skin drying, and flaking even as his body grew cold. Time for the next victim.
Keller dodged the bolts of fire easily, playing a pyromaniac's game of hopscotch. The dragon was obviously furious by being outsmarted by a lowly panther. Keller gave a laugh, a deep rumble from her panther throat. A bolt hit her right hind leg, the smell of burnt fur making her nose twitch. Now it was the dragon's turn to laugh, puffs of smoke escaping his wide, reptilian jaws. The dragon reared his golden head to build up more fire. It was a bad idea to hang his head so low. With a powerful paw the size of a grown man's head, Keller swept her paw through the deep snow, the snow hitting the target: straight into his mouth. Of course it didn't permanently damage the built up flame, but it did choke him. Both shape shifters shifted into human form. Unfortunately, both had Keller's height, shape, and face.
"You're going to be sorry for that, bitch," the clone spat.
Now if there was something that Keller could not hold her patience for, it was being called a bitch. First of all, no self respecting woman who worked her ass to be the boss could ever be a bitch. Secondly, bitches were female dogs.
"Oh am I?" Keller walked slowly to the imitator. Not her usual approach, but the anger in her affected her tactics. The dragon moved first, swinging a fist but hitting air. Keller ducked and gave an upper right hook. And then she drove another punch to his nose. "Did you spend so much time playing dragon…" she said calmly as she grabbed his long, blue black hair and twisted his head. "you never got to learn combat fighting?" Keller number two continued to spit out obscenities. Keller pulled the hair even farther down, then kicked his back with her knee. She smiled as she heard vertebrae snap. She morphed her right hand into a huge black paw.
"Oh and by the way." The claws slid out swiftly. "I am so sorry." Blood spurted from the pale white neck. While he changed back to the golden haired man and choked for air on the ground. Keller slid her knife from her sleeve and proceeded to cut the four horns. The process dulled the knife, but it was of little importance, for she had more weapons on her than Morgead's closet.
Thierry wiped the blood from his mouth. One by one, he felt a Daybreaker s' minds go blank like snuffed candles, due to death or unconsciousness. The sun disappeared behind the waves of snow. Darkness was ineffectual to him, but he worried about the human's night vision. It was time for his next vital decision.
Witches! One by one, dark silhouettes appeared on the rim of the basin, forming a wide horse shoe around them. Distantly, small balls of orange flames appeared in their hands. Like fireflies, the hazy fires floated down into the sunken valley, meeting and melting into one bonfire at the center. A floating conflagration gave more confidence to Circle Daybreak. Thierry's troops began to battle with new vigor. But in their new found passion, they also made brash mistakes, decreasing defense for offense. Again, Thierry felt more candles blown out. He sent the witches more commands.
Abruptly, the werewolf he tussled with dropped mid lunge. A neat hole still smoked between his eyes. Silently, he thanked his lucky stars for Claire's suggestion of rifles and silver, iron, and wooden tipped bullets. And that Iliana was up on the edge of the basin with the other witches and not in battle.
~*~*~*~
Hunter had perched Mari upon a hill just above the basin. All who died could gaze up at her, their last hope staring coldly at them. The wind whipped her hair into her eyes, and she could feel the snow gather around her ankles. A familiar scent carried through the gales, Mari closed her eyes. As if watching those who cared for her die weren't enough punishment, she was forced to see herself in the eyes of one true angel.
"Mari," Hannah said softly. Mari turned slowly, eyes wide and apologetic. Relief surged through Hannah when she saw Mari's sorrow. The young girl was not the heartless creature Delos thought her to be. But the sad tears in her eyes were no help to Hannah's plan. She imagined that in her confused friend's mind, there was no hope for the world.
"Mari," she began, "Mari, why are you crying?" Cautiously, Hannah extended her hand to take Mari's own. She shivered, not from the weather, but from the lack of life in Mari's limp hand. The tiny frail fingers were as stiff and dry as a porcelain doll's.
For the longest time, neither spoke. Howls and cries of the war beyond them sounded hollow and inconsequential to the two young women. Then Mari let out a small sigh.
"Hannah," she began in a voice so soft, Hannah wondered if she spoke at all. "Hannah, I know why you're talking to me. But, even if I do help, what would I save? People who don't care for one another. A world so full of hate and prejudice, love and kindness is considered ridiculous. Everything is mocked or destroyed, nothing is sacred. Everybody hates one another." Slowly, Mari faced the bloody battle, pulling Hannah to her side. Hostility and abhorrence on each face proved her words.
"But, Mari, if you don't help us and if you let them win, don't you realize what will happen? New races with more hatred and violence will dominate. Then, and only then will the world will be destitute of kindness…" her voice trailed off. Mari wasn't listening, or she refused to comprehend. Hannah felt her retreating farther into the safe vaults of her mind. She had no idea what her friend experienced for the past months. Hannah studied her, wondering if Mari could ever recover from the mental wounds her loved ones caused. All hope sunk from Hannah's heart as she realized the only person to convince Mari to help was Mari. Now all she could do was comfort her, and even now she didn't want that.
Hannah squeezed her hand, hoping to convey all the sympathy she held in her heart. "Mari." Hannah's voice was unsteady. "I can't force you to do what I feel is right. Only you can do what you want to do. You're a grown girl now."
You're a grown girl now…
~*~*~*~
"Fifteen seconds left on the clock, and the crowds are great! Let's ask this gentleman right here…" Dick Clark was the only smiling face in the dark living room. Gillian squeezed David's hand.
"Ten…"
~*~*~*~
California
"Phillip," his mother whispered. He joined her by the window. Mobs of people were running past the apartment complex. Phillip pulled his mother away from the window and pulled the curtains close.
"It's okay, they've already evacuated this part of town. They won't look here." Phillip closed the lights and lowered the thermostat. For extra measure, he hung Christmas silver bells over all the windows and doors.
"I thought you said all the bad people were on the island." His mother settled worriedly on the couch.
"I thought I was right. I shouldn't have invited you here. I mean, LA is bad enough but now vampires are running loose."
"It's okay, Phil. I couldn't spend New Year's Eve alone any way, with my workaholic husband off to Japan. We'll just stare at the TV, and pretend we're watching Dick Clark. And hope that our friends and family don't get hurt by these hoodlums." Phillip smiled at his mother's term for possibly the most dangerous animals on earth.
~*~*~*~
Damned Clan Island
Gwendolyn Marks gazed down at her baby girl, eyes full of admiration. Mari watched the two, wondering how they glowed with golden illumination. The baby gurgled and laughed, reaching with tiny fingers for her mother's necklace.
You're a grown girl now. Such a big little girl. You're going to be beautiful, you're going to break men's hearts, you sweet thing. You're going to meet the right man just like me…
"Mari! Mari, say something." Who was that…oh yes, Hannah…
…love songs. Endless love songs in your head. Would you like to hear my favorite, my little Maria?
"Mari, stop before you fall!" Rude arms desperately grabbed at her clothes. She shook them off like an irritated lioness.
Your father taught me this song. And I'll teach it to you, when you're a grown girl.
"Maria Tybal, please, please stop, stop right now!"
Let's sing it together.
Together.
Mari saw him in the heart of the violence, his hair crimson with the blood of his victims.
We'll sing it together.
In the whole chaotic field, there was no expression so evil as the one on Valdis' face.
No matter what, we'll be together and we'll sing to ignore the big bad world's bad guys, right Maria? When you're old enough, I'll teach you how to sing and stop the pain in this world…
~*~*~*~
"Nine…"
~*~*~*~
The coldness that held her limbs so rigid melted from Mari's body. For the first time in months, a flame burned in her eyes.
Stop the pain, Maria.
She saw Valdis bash Trent's head to the ground, and then kicked his side. A cruel smirk twisted his lips.
Stop, Maria.
Suddenly Valdis stopped and focused on a girl a few miles from him. Mari followed his gaze to a slender, willowy woman. Hair like midnight and eyes blank as the snow around her. The Maiden held her arms up, maintaining a great sphere of fire over the heads of the valiant soldiers. She wasn't supposed to be down there; she was deliberately disobeying Thierry's orders.
Maria, you're going to break men's hearts.
Mari knew what he was going to do. She had to stop it, before he could get to Aradia.
~*~*~*~
"Eight…"
~*~*~*~
She jumped. Then air rushed up at her, the ground came closer and closer. "NO!" Mari refused to fall, she needed to be farther, she needed to save Aradia.
She closed her eyes, cursing all things that might stop her. Damn gravity, damn Hunter, damn Valdis…
The air stopped rushing and she heard the groans of the dying. Her eyes still closed, she concentrated on Aradia and Valdis.
Damn Valdis, damn Valdis, damn Dorian, damn Aradia for standing so close to the fighting…
She felt as if she was running for her life, but her moving feet touched nothing. Her lungs burned for air, despite the deep gasps she took. Heat burned up and down her back as if she rolled on hot coals.
Damn Valdis, damn Valdis, damn Valdis, damn Valdis…
Bits of ice nipped at her face, droplets of blood appearing where the frozen pin pricks hit. Victory cheers and defeated howls suddenly quieted to a strange hum.
Mari opened her eyes, and found that Valdis standing a few feet from her. Her eyes would only focus on him, everything else was blurred and sped by. She didn't slow down. Valdis turned his cold eyes to her.
Damn Valdis…
"DAMN YOU!" Her fangs elongated so fast she bit into her lip. Sweet blood ran from her mouth. Valdis still did not move.
Mari collided with him, her hands clutch his shoulders. His eyes widened as her teeth gnashed into his throat.
~*~*~*~
"Seven…" Gillian spotted the older children, peeping from behind the double doors. Some how, Gillian knew that they found out where the adults were.
~*~*~*~
Ash held Mary Lynette close to him, hiding his worried face from her parents.
"Six," Claudia chanted excitedly.
~*~*~*~
Mari wrenched her head from him, tearing more skin with her teeth, as two needle like fangs sunk into the soft flesh of her neck. She let out a small whimper as Valdis' teeth burned into her own.
Stop the pain, Maria.
Both collapsed to the ground, still intertwined, and the snow cushioned their fall. Mari spat, his blood forming crude shapes in the snow. Unlike the expected sweetness of vampire blood, Valdis' was bitter, and scorched her mouth. Unexpectedly, the blood blackened, and dark puddles of obsidian oil flowed toward them both. Mari could only watch with horror, for the lack of her own blood weakened her.
Jez felt the knife through her shoulder but decided to leave it in case its removal spilled more blood. Already, she felt a sticky substance seep through her jacket. She teetered to the ground, hoping whoever wounded her assumed she was down. Vaguely, she wondered how many seconds left of the millennium.
Delos needed more space to attack. But he heard growls and soft footsteps from behind and before him waited three murderous vampires and one impatient dragon. Right now he wished his petulant "baby sitters" were still on the job. He stepped back, only to jump forward when the puppies began to snap at his heels. Then one vampire, a sadistic guard that he recognized from the Dark Kingdom, smiled. Delos detested vampires who insisted on showing off his canines.
"If you want a fair fight, let's do it one man at a time," Delos ordered quietly.
He watched as their muscles tensed, waiting to pounce. The flashy vampire said, "Who said we wanted a fair fight?" Delos felt the wind get knocked out of him as the wolves lunged at him from behind. Merciless claws tore through his clothes and skin, while their sickening pants warmed the back of his neck. He struggled to throw them off, but one mangy flea bag managed to sink its teeth into his leg. Delos screamed in agony. Gaining pleasure from his pain, the jaws locked and it shook his head side to side furiously, as if trying to tear his leg completely off. So intent was his concentration on the mutt's death lock, Delos barely registered the devastating kicks to his stomach, courtesy of the kind former employee.
~*~*~*~
"Five…four…three…" Mark sat on the floor in front the TV, wondering how the joyous crowds cheering with Carson Daly on MTV could be so ignorant to the oncoming doom.
~*~*~*~
Iliana desperately pressed her hands to her ears, in a vain attempt to block out the horrible, cold guns and rifles. She drew back from the firing militia as the gun made thunder pounded into her head. But the booms wouldn't weaken or cease, making her clench her fists. Her nails dug into her soft palms, small red beads falling from her hands. She gazed at the people around her and below her. She never understood how the other Daybreakers found weapons beautiful, no matter how ornate. The guns, the swords, the knives…all were disgusting, Iliana hated the sight of them. They were made to hurt and to kill other in the most torturous ways. There could never be beauty in instruments of hate.
She could no longer bear the cries for help that would never come, searing her to her soul. How could I stand here, in safety, when I have the power to stop it? She could feel the power bubbling through her entire being, its intense electricity igniting tiny bolts from her delicate fingers. Death was a travesty when he took just one loved one, but no words could describe it when he touched thousands. She had to stop it. Iliana summoned the blue fire.
~*~*~*~
She couldn't see.
She couldn't hear.
She couldn't breath.
She couldn't move.
But she could feel.
Some where in this
Dark
Dark
Dark
World, some one was holding her.
Someone was clutching tightly on her shoulders. It was him. This was not his mind, nor was it hers. It was somewhere midway. She couldn't believe the black nothingness was apart of her. Neither could he. It was a space reserved for hurting each other, and enjoying it.
The nothingness shifted, washing over and under them, spilling through them. He let go of her shoulders, but…did she have shoulders? Did she have arms, legs, or the meaningless flesh that hid her soul? They were gone, as if they evaporated out of existence. She could do nothing but feel, just as he did.
Deep in the recesses of the black void, she searched for it. She didn't how to look without arms or eyes, but he helped her. It was as if they were one mind, their thoughts tangled in a sable fusion.
His swelled eyelids prevented him from seeing anything except hazy, slow-moving forms. Yet Delos sensed a powerful branch flashing towards him. Before he could discern the source of energy, he felt a spark at the tip of his finger. It ran with a cold shiver up his arms, down his abdomen, and surged through his legs. The blue fire exploded with unbelievable intensity in his mind. Power, sheer power blinded him, and stopped of his breath. He was dimly aware of the werewolves jumping, or rather, falling from his back. The pain was unbearable, as if the entire Night World army jabbed at him with lightning bolts. Then he realized the simple solution, so distinctly clear that he wondered at his stupidity. He set it free, releasing it as if it had a mind of its own.
It didn't matter where it went or who was hit. This was right, this was the way it should be liberated. The blue fire never truly belonged to him. It was a gift, poured into him at birth so that he would deliver at the foretold moment. Now he must continue its journey.
There were tears in her eyes. In the beginning, it was fun, it was a meaningless game of practice combat. But…she started to see the faces, and the thoughts behind them. Jez slew a woman who thought she fought for a world that would protect her children from the humans. Jez burned a shape shifter who sought peace with humans before, only to be nearly killed with vehement prejudice. Jez wished herself back to the ignorant idea of "Night Worlders bad, must die now." Knowing the selfless motives of her opponents lulled her to a quiet, constant cry. Tears rolled silently down her face as she killed one after another, blocking all thoughts of sympathy from her head.
It called out to her. Jez turned her back, heedless of the man who brandished a heavy hand ax. A bruising, maybe even skin splitting blow landed on her back. It didn't matter. A blue light swam under the combatants feet, aiming for her. Jez ran to meet it, hoping it was the end to all this pain. But she never remembered reaching it afterwards.
There.
Where? Please, help me find it. There's no more time.
Right over there, very, very deep...
And it was. There was a dying blue flame, sitting patiently in the black cavernous heart. Gingerly, she cupped it in her hands, cradling it like a baby. Rough hands covered her own. The flame grew…until it burst, destroying the blackness to shreds. Blue fire tore free from its shackles, heedless of physical boundaries of skin.
~*~*~*~
"Two…" Phillip clutched his mother tightly, praying to any god that Poppy was safe.
~*~*~*~
They floated, but against their will. Aradia, saw this, she actually saw this, but could not utter a word. Iliana did not appear as the jolly angel she was but as a fiery goddess of vengeance, struggling to stand safely on the ground again. Delos hung in the air limply, as if he had been pinned by a nail. Jez was unconscious of her surroundings, her eyes closed in deep meditation. And Mari…
Aradia looked to the fourth pillar of Blue Fire. But as soon as she did, she turned away, the glow burning so brightly in the air Aradia feared she was blinded again. She couldn't see a single distinct figure to suggest Mari was in the amorphous black light.
The Wild Powers did not call upon the blue fire; it called upon them.
Aradia watched in silent awe, whilst others fought obliviously, as the flames that engulfed them shifted, forming four beams that shot toward the center, where her floating bonfire burned brightly. She felt the atmosphere still and contract, as if it waited for the moment to come. The shafts of fire stung her eyes but she could not turn away.
Iliana's light touched the fire. Then Delos, and Jez. Just as the fourth bolt came, Aradia turned away, her eyes dry and burning from the heat.
~*~*~*~
In a pale blur, Timmy ran over and shut off the television. With solemn, round eyes, he surveyed the silent room full of the baby sitters and children and said one thing.
"One."
~*~*~*~
Heat.
Fire.
There was no sound but there was an explosion.
That all heard around the world.
A silent blast.
The valiant fell.
The evil collapsed.
Aradia felt her skin burning.
She felt her lips freezing.
The world fell away from under them.
So all they had was each other.
Then, in the silence of the turmoil and joy of an organization's defeat, there came a single, faint cry.
"We won."
"Cause, everyday there's a war to fight
And if I win or lose never mind
As long as you're my shelter every night" Shakira
