Chapter 20: The Waning Moon
"Doors are funny, they're like walls you can put back!"
~ Me, (just think about it.maybe you'll see where I'm coming from.)
Dilandau's sword dived at her, and Jezabel caught it with ease and slipped into a fighting stance. Meanwhile Dilandau had picked up a new weapon from the rack near the opposite wall.
The General's face was grim.
Here we go again.
They dueled, and Jez didn't last five minuets before her sword was lost.
"Tsk, tsk. I expected more of a fight from an ancient race. Or maybe you're just like that petty little king, can't even fight properly." he muttered something more under his breath something that sounded like 'he scarred my face, he scarred my beautiful face.' His crimson eyes darted back to Jez still on her knees, catching her breath. "Again." he ordered.
Moving with more grace than she felt Jezabel picked up her sword and they went at it again, and again, and again.
Sweat poured into her eyes, and her stomach threatened to heave the meager breakfast she had managed to scarf down earlier. A few feet away was her sword, and the devil's own blade was ready to grace her jugular.
She had lost every spar today, except earlier, but never mind that. She wasn't going to fail again. Acting on pure instinct she fell over onto her shoulders and quickly rolled away from her sword.
She had been right, Dilandau's attack went where he thought she was going to go. One point for her. Pushing herself off the ground she used Dilandau's shoulders to throw herself up and over, narrowly missing the tip of his sword. That one had been too close she would have to be more careful. Landing softly behind him she lashed out with a kick to the back of his thighs, and missed. He had leaped out of the way and was now about to run her down. Quickly, she snatched up her fallen sword and brought it up to guard the blow.
If it were pitting strength against strength she would surely lose, but she had backed herself into a corner. Her legs were pinned, she was on her back, and Dilandau's sword was looming near her throat.
"Dead."
Jezabel finally admitted defeat, even though she still didn't like it.
"Your skill is good, a match for most men on the battlefield, but you still have a long way to go before raising your rank. Although, I like your determination, but it tends to make you stupid."
"I know sir." she looked away demurely.
"You are dismissed."
She stretched her muscles, no sense in having them seize up on her. When her heart rate was normal, and she felt convinced that her body had cooled down Jez headed straight for the pool.
It was vacant and her feet padded softly across the tiled floor. Pausing at the deep end Jez watched the surface, clear and unbroken. Well, it was unbroken until her graceful swan dive remedied the situation. She resurfaced slightly sputtering, still clothed in her training sweats. The dive had been a bit deeper than she was accustomed to, but she could live with that. Everything here went a bit deeper, and yet she had survived so far.
But even with all her worries, water never failed to work its charms on her. All her ailments evaporated leaving her blissfully whole once again. Floating on her back she mused on today's revelations. There was no way she could be a queen. Hell, she hated politics.but isn't that what she was in the middle of, one of the biggest political scandals on Gaea, and surely one of the most interesting from the earthling point of view.
A thunderous splash brought her back to reality spewing water every which way in the process. A crowd of four had jumped in simultaneously with Gatti, Miguel, Viole, and everyone's favorite Sheepboy.
After ridding herself of the excess water in her mouth and nose Jez finally managed to roll her eyes at the goofy grinning group. Soldiers or not, they were still boys at heart. "So what are you doing here?"
"Swimming, cooling off, failing to drown you." One of the boys replied.
"Hey Jez," Miguel asked, "Where were you today?"
"Dilandau's training me specially now."
Gatti gawked, "Already! Most people take about a year to a year and a half."
"Impressive," Viole murmured.
"Get ready for all hell to break lose." Guimel warned. "Mine was complete agony."
"No way," Gatti interrupted, "Mine was way worse, I had mine sooner than yours."
Soon all the Dragonslayers were in a heated argument over who had the roughest time in the training. Verbal arguments led to splash fights, and then to dunkings.
"EXCUSE ME!"
Everything stopped, no one had noticed Eva coming in.
"Sorry for interrupting you." she said addressing her superiors, "But I believe that dinner will be served soon. I also noticed that Lord Dilandau seems to be in a rather foul mood."
"Thank you, Eva." Gatti replied, trying not to sound too stern or too kind. She bowed and retreated, not missing the wink Gatti sent her way.
* * * * * The next two days passed quickly for Jezabel, although not very easily. Between her continued training with Dilandau, practicing on her own, and her frequent visits to Lord Folken to hone her abilities, life was now as Dilandau had once promised her - A living hell. Between the two instructors Jez kept getting pushed to her limits every day, but pleasingly she found that these limits were becoming harder and harder to obtain. At the end of the day she was content to relax, using a form of meditation Folken had prescribed to her to keep her mind fresh and rejuvenated. His training was more mentally taxing than anything else. On the third morning, while training with the devil himself, Jezabel's sword was abruptly knocked away from her hands. However, she had anticipated this, not a desirable situation, but still salvageable. Just as she lost her hold on the hilt, Jez's other hand snatched it back, making it look as through she merely switched hands. With the sword level in front of her neck Jez cocked an eyebrow as if to say, 'Nice try.' The general glared at her with reluctant admiration. "Very good, but let's see how you fare in battle." He eyed her training pants and shirt. "Go get your armor on." Jezabel bowed slightly shocked, and did as was told. Hurriedly, she went up to her room. Eva was just leaving after tending to one of her various duties, but was intercepted by Jez. "Eva!" she yelled slightly out of breath and lowered her voice to a whisper, "Tell Van we're going into battle, soon." "What? Where? How many troops? Why didn't you tell me earlier?" she demanded. Jezabel threw up her hands defensively, "Calm down, first I just found out a few minutes ago, and second I don't know." Eva sighed in resigned frustration, "Great." she muttered. "Alright, I'll see what I can do." "Thanks." Jez said sliding past Eva and into her quarters. The energetic maid sighed again and quickly slid a thin palm-sized package under the door. Hurriedly, Jezabel threw the flexible leather jacket on, cinched it tight, strapped on her arm and shin armor, and re-pulled her hair into a severe braid to keep it away from her face. Digging in a pocket she found her gloves and snapped them into place. Turning to leave Jezabel noticed the small package left for her by Eva on the ebony tiled floor. It was a smooth metal box no more than a centimeter thick, and small enough to fit in the palm of her hand. Curious she flipped the lid and out fluttered a small scrap of parchment. 'Contact me when you can with any information.' Silently Jez held it over a flickering candle and dropped it to the floor, stamping it out with her heel and grinding the soot into the camouflage of the stone. The rest of the device contained a screen and a few keys to change the display. Pocketing the transmitter Jezabel left to meet Dilandau and company. Entering the guymelef hanger she joined the ranks milling around the railing. The air hung heavy with the aura of imminent battle. "At attention!" Soundlessly the troops lined up according to rank and status to await de- briefing from the monster. His pale face holding a contented grin, Dilandau lazily began to speak. "I have just received orders from General Adelphous. We are to attack the Crescent Moon Nation. Each town will be conquered individually with troops stationed as we move on to the next." He paused savoring the thought of battle, "Thirteen cities lie in this area, Thirteen battles will be fought. Move out!" And they left him to his contemplations of blood and death. Climbing into her Oriades unit Jezabel whispered a brief message relating what she learned before leaping into the sky. Quickly, she ignited the jet boosters and chased after her flying comrades. Below, in the early morning sun a splay of white and silver cities dotted the landscape. The Crescent Moon Nation named for the crescent shape they took, and the thirteen cities for thirteen lunar months. Sadly, in seemed that they would become as dark as the new moon, once Dilandau's fire purged them. Slowly waning into non-existence or submission. "Ready men?" Dilandau cackled as they Dragonslayers began their descent. "Ready sir. "Yessir" "Ready Lord Dilandau." Various voices responded. The denizens of the capital wouldn't have time to react as the red mass landed just outside their walls. Elements of surprise worked well for Zaibach, and this movement had been underway for some time now. Spies planted, and assassins hired to eliminate problems from within. Instantly, people began to panic as they saw the devil's army land before them. Running and screaming they scrambled to shelter. Dilandau's elite force was enough to make the most battle-hardened men piss their pants. Somewhere overhead the Vionne emerged, its grand size and ominous coloring shading the situation to a greater level of fear. "People of Luna!" Folken's voice called, "Surrender your city peacefully and no harm shall be dealt to you. This I promise. However, if you do not, I shall leave you in the hands of Lord Dilandau Albatou and his Dragonslayers." Failing to resist the temptation Dilandau shot a harmless jet of fire into the sky, causing the terror and panic to rise once again. "These are your two options," Folken continued in a cold hard voice worthy of Zaibach, "Do not think of calling for help, for you shall be slaughtered by our men inside and outside your home. Surrender or die. You have twenty minutes." The Vionne wavered and disappeared as if it were never there to begin with. People began to think it was a hallucination, but at the sight of the Diabolical Adonis and his 'Slayers, they knew it not to be their imagination, but rather the stuff of nightmares and campfire tales. "Folken, I'm getting bored." Dilandau warned lazily. "You will do as commanded." Further reply was cut off by the arrival of an elderly man. As slow as time went for those outside the city, the same could not be said about the residents and nobility. Father time is a cruel old miser, letting you wallow in the tedium of anticipation, and then sweeping away your joy in a blur of foggy memories. "Zaibach!" The tottering old man yelled, his robust voice carried the cry despite his age. "Answer me you fools!" Rings glittered on his hand as he shook his fist in the air. His long white wizards beard waving in the wind, sliding across his robes of satin blue. Dilandau sighed, "Be silent old man, your charades tire me. Everyone knows what happens when I get bored." "We shall never surrender to the likes of you! Never give into a pack of ruthless savages!" "I said, be silent old man!" "Never fall to the mangy wolves of Zaibach!" Blood flowed from his chest accenting his powerful last words. He crumpled to his knees, "We will never surrender." he wheezed out, lying in the dye of his blood. "ATTACK!" Dilandau screamed.
A bloodbath followed, Luna had strong defenses, but never strong enough. And thus in the end the Dragonslayers were victorious. Some cities meekly bowed, others resisted with all they could muster. But always did Zaibach prevail. After all who could defeat an army with the devil's own spawn fighting for it? One battle differed from the others. Without even waiting twenty minutes to prepare an attack the army charged. Swords and arrows sending their answer of refusal. "Spare no lives!" Dilandau screamed, as the Dragonslayers performed what they did best, merciless slaughter. Jezebel kept herself preoccupied fighting an opposing guymelef. Whoever was piloting it was quite good. He kept himself in too close of range for Jez to use the flamethrowers, lest she hurt herself in the process, and just out of range of her sword. "You fight like a girl." he taunted, the boy couldn't have been much older than herself. "That's because I am one, you bastard!" Rage boiled inside, her blows became more ferocious, and the boy wasn't that good. At that point Jezabel didn't care whether she lived or died, or the boy for that matter, she was a machine. A deadly force of destruction to be reckoned with. Shocked, the boy replied, "You're a girl? And a Dragonslayer?" "No, I'm a Dragonslayer recruit." And with that she ran him through. A muffled gurgling of sticky blood was all she heard. A blow struck her from behind, squarely between the shoulders. Faltering for only a second, Jez spun around, her sword lodging itself firmly in the newcomer's side. Steam hissed from the wound as the mecha collapsed, never to rise again. A cruel reminder for the show of bad form. "Fool." she whispered.
What followed was the same as the previous cities. Surround, cite their options, wait, react accordingly. It was well into the night when the final city had fallen, so small were they, and so weak that several could be captured in a single day. "Pull back," Dilandau ordered reluctantly, "Our work here is done." And so the demons retreated leaving behind only ashes and dust, the Crescent Moon Nation as lifeless at the dark of the moon. Flying to the floating fortress Dilandau's wicked laugh pierced the night, slicing it the flesh of an enemy and leaving as much fear in its wake.
A/N: well whatcha think? hmmm. hopefully I'll get the next one up soon.I've just been either really busy, or really tired. Anyway, more exciting stuff to come, until then, *cheesy announcer voice* stayed tuned for the next episode of Where Loyalty Lies! //dun dun duuuuuuuuuun!// Anyway ja ne! Ciao! Ice Eyes
Dilandau's sword dived at her, and Jezabel caught it with ease and slipped into a fighting stance. Meanwhile Dilandau had picked up a new weapon from the rack near the opposite wall.
The General's face was grim.
Here we go again.
They dueled, and Jez didn't last five minuets before her sword was lost.
"Tsk, tsk. I expected more of a fight from an ancient race. Or maybe you're just like that petty little king, can't even fight properly." he muttered something more under his breath something that sounded like 'he scarred my face, he scarred my beautiful face.' His crimson eyes darted back to Jez still on her knees, catching her breath. "Again." he ordered.
Moving with more grace than she felt Jezabel picked up her sword and they went at it again, and again, and again.
Sweat poured into her eyes, and her stomach threatened to heave the meager breakfast she had managed to scarf down earlier. A few feet away was her sword, and the devil's own blade was ready to grace her jugular.
She had lost every spar today, except earlier, but never mind that. She wasn't going to fail again. Acting on pure instinct she fell over onto her shoulders and quickly rolled away from her sword.
She had been right, Dilandau's attack went where he thought she was going to go. One point for her. Pushing herself off the ground she used Dilandau's shoulders to throw herself up and over, narrowly missing the tip of his sword. That one had been too close she would have to be more careful. Landing softly behind him she lashed out with a kick to the back of his thighs, and missed. He had leaped out of the way and was now about to run her down. Quickly, she snatched up her fallen sword and brought it up to guard the blow.
If it were pitting strength against strength she would surely lose, but she had backed herself into a corner. Her legs were pinned, she was on her back, and Dilandau's sword was looming near her throat.
"Dead."
Jezabel finally admitted defeat, even though she still didn't like it.
"Your skill is good, a match for most men on the battlefield, but you still have a long way to go before raising your rank. Although, I like your determination, but it tends to make you stupid."
"I know sir." she looked away demurely.
"You are dismissed."
She stretched her muscles, no sense in having them seize up on her. When her heart rate was normal, and she felt convinced that her body had cooled down Jez headed straight for the pool.
It was vacant and her feet padded softly across the tiled floor. Pausing at the deep end Jez watched the surface, clear and unbroken. Well, it was unbroken until her graceful swan dive remedied the situation. She resurfaced slightly sputtering, still clothed in her training sweats. The dive had been a bit deeper than she was accustomed to, but she could live with that. Everything here went a bit deeper, and yet she had survived so far.
But even with all her worries, water never failed to work its charms on her. All her ailments evaporated leaving her blissfully whole once again. Floating on her back she mused on today's revelations. There was no way she could be a queen. Hell, she hated politics.but isn't that what she was in the middle of, one of the biggest political scandals on Gaea, and surely one of the most interesting from the earthling point of view.
A thunderous splash brought her back to reality spewing water every which way in the process. A crowd of four had jumped in simultaneously with Gatti, Miguel, Viole, and everyone's favorite Sheepboy.
After ridding herself of the excess water in her mouth and nose Jez finally managed to roll her eyes at the goofy grinning group. Soldiers or not, they were still boys at heart. "So what are you doing here?"
"Swimming, cooling off, failing to drown you." One of the boys replied.
"Hey Jez," Miguel asked, "Where were you today?"
"Dilandau's training me specially now."
Gatti gawked, "Already! Most people take about a year to a year and a half."
"Impressive," Viole murmured.
"Get ready for all hell to break lose." Guimel warned. "Mine was complete agony."
"No way," Gatti interrupted, "Mine was way worse, I had mine sooner than yours."
Soon all the Dragonslayers were in a heated argument over who had the roughest time in the training. Verbal arguments led to splash fights, and then to dunkings.
"EXCUSE ME!"
Everything stopped, no one had noticed Eva coming in.
"Sorry for interrupting you." she said addressing her superiors, "But I believe that dinner will be served soon. I also noticed that Lord Dilandau seems to be in a rather foul mood."
"Thank you, Eva." Gatti replied, trying not to sound too stern or too kind. She bowed and retreated, not missing the wink Gatti sent her way.
* * * * * The next two days passed quickly for Jezabel, although not very easily. Between her continued training with Dilandau, practicing on her own, and her frequent visits to Lord Folken to hone her abilities, life was now as Dilandau had once promised her - A living hell. Between the two instructors Jez kept getting pushed to her limits every day, but pleasingly she found that these limits were becoming harder and harder to obtain. At the end of the day she was content to relax, using a form of meditation Folken had prescribed to her to keep her mind fresh and rejuvenated. His training was more mentally taxing than anything else. On the third morning, while training with the devil himself, Jezabel's sword was abruptly knocked away from her hands. However, she had anticipated this, not a desirable situation, but still salvageable. Just as she lost her hold on the hilt, Jez's other hand snatched it back, making it look as through she merely switched hands. With the sword level in front of her neck Jez cocked an eyebrow as if to say, 'Nice try.' The general glared at her with reluctant admiration. "Very good, but let's see how you fare in battle." He eyed her training pants and shirt. "Go get your armor on." Jezabel bowed slightly shocked, and did as was told. Hurriedly, she went up to her room. Eva was just leaving after tending to one of her various duties, but was intercepted by Jez. "Eva!" she yelled slightly out of breath and lowered her voice to a whisper, "Tell Van we're going into battle, soon." "What? Where? How many troops? Why didn't you tell me earlier?" she demanded. Jezabel threw up her hands defensively, "Calm down, first I just found out a few minutes ago, and second I don't know." Eva sighed in resigned frustration, "Great." she muttered. "Alright, I'll see what I can do." "Thanks." Jez said sliding past Eva and into her quarters. The energetic maid sighed again and quickly slid a thin palm-sized package under the door. Hurriedly, Jezabel threw the flexible leather jacket on, cinched it tight, strapped on her arm and shin armor, and re-pulled her hair into a severe braid to keep it away from her face. Digging in a pocket she found her gloves and snapped them into place. Turning to leave Jezabel noticed the small package left for her by Eva on the ebony tiled floor. It was a smooth metal box no more than a centimeter thick, and small enough to fit in the palm of her hand. Curious she flipped the lid and out fluttered a small scrap of parchment. 'Contact me when you can with any information.' Silently Jez held it over a flickering candle and dropped it to the floor, stamping it out with her heel and grinding the soot into the camouflage of the stone. The rest of the device contained a screen and a few keys to change the display. Pocketing the transmitter Jezabel left to meet Dilandau and company. Entering the guymelef hanger she joined the ranks milling around the railing. The air hung heavy with the aura of imminent battle. "At attention!" Soundlessly the troops lined up according to rank and status to await de- briefing from the monster. His pale face holding a contented grin, Dilandau lazily began to speak. "I have just received orders from General Adelphous. We are to attack the Crescent Moon Nation. Each town will be conquered individually with troops stationed as we move on to the next." He paused savoring the thought of battle, "Thirteen cities lie in this area, Thirteen battles will be fought. Move out!" And they left him to his contemplations of blood and death. Climbing into her Oriades unit Jezabel whispered a brief message relating what she learned before leaping into the sky. Quickly, she ignited the jet boosters and chased after her flying comrades. Below, in the early morning sun a splay of white and silver cities dotted the landscape. The Crescent Moon Nation named for the crescent shape they took, and the thirteen cities for thirteen lunar months. Sadly, in seemed that they would become as dark as the new moon, once Dilandau's fire purged them. Slowly waning into non-existence or submission. "Ready men?" Dilandau cackled as they Dragonslayers began their descent. "Ready sir. "Yessir" "Ready Lord Dilandau." Various voices responded. The denizens of the capital wouldn't have time to react as the red mass landed just outside their walls. Elements of surprise worked well for Zaibach, and this movement had been underway for some time now. Spies planted, and assassins hired to eliminate problems from within. Instantly, people began to panic as they saw the devil's army land before them. Running and screaming they scrambled to shelter. Dilandau's elite force was enough to make the most battle-hardened men piss their pants. Somewhere overhead the Vionne emerged, its grand size and ominous coloring shading the situation to a greater level of fear. "People of Luna!" Folken's voice called, "Surrender your city peacefully and no harm shall be dealt to you. This I promise. However, if you do not, I shall leave you in the hands of Lord Dilandau Albatou and his Dragonslayers." Failing to resist the temptation Dilandau shot a harmless jet of fire into the sky, causing the terror and panic to rise once again. "These are your two options," Folken continued in a cold hard voice worthy of Zaibach, "Do not think of calling for help, for you shall be slaughtered by our men inside and outside your home. Surrender or die. You have twenty minutes." The Vionne wavered and disappeared as if it were never there to begin with. People began to think it was a hallucination, but at the sight of the Diabolical Adonis and his 'Slayers, they knew it not to be their imagination, but rather the stuff of nightmares and campfire tales. "Folken, I'm getting bored." Dilandau warned lazily. "You will do as commanded." Further reply was cut off by the arrival of an elderly man. As slow as time went for those outside the city, the same could not be said about the residents and nobility. Father time is a cruel old miser, letting you wallow in the tedium of anticipation, and then sweeping away your joy in a blur of foggy memories. "Zaibach!" The tottering old man yelled, his robust voice carried the cry despite his age. "Answer me you fools!" Rings glittered on his hand as he shook his fist in the air. His long white wizards beard waving in the wind, sliding across his robes of satin blue. Dilandau sighed, "Be silent old man, your charades tire me. Everyone knows what happens when I get bored." "We shall never surrender to the likes of you! Never give into a pack of ruthless savages!" "I said, be silent old man!" "Never fall to the mangy wolves of Zaibach!" Blood flowed from his chest accenting his powerful last words. He crumpled to his knees, "We will never surrender." he wheezed out, lying in the dye of his blood. "ATTACK!" Dilandau screamed.
A bloodbath followed, Luna had strong defenses, but never strong enough. And thus in the end the Dragonslayers were victorious. Some cities meekly bowed, others resisted with all they could muster. But always did Zaibach prevail. After all who could defeat an army with the devil's own spawn fighting for it? One battle differed from the others. Without even waiting twenty minutes to prepare an attack the army charged. Swords and arrows sending their answer of refusal. "Spare no lives!" Dilandau screamed, as the Dragonslayers performed what they did best, merciless slaughter. Jezebel kept herself preoccupied fighting an opposing guymelef. Whoever was piloting it was quite good. He kept himself in too close of range for Jez to use the flamethrowers, lest she hurt herself in the process, and just out of range of her sword. "You fight like a girl." he taunted, the boy couldn't have been much older than herself. "That's because I am one, you bastard!" Rage boiled inside, her blows became more ferocious, and the boy wasn't that good. At that point Jezabel didn't care whether she lived or died, or the boy for that matter, she was a machine. A deadly force of destruction to be reckoned with. Shocked, the boy replied, "You're a girl? And a Dragonslayer?" "No, I'm a Dragonslayer recruit." And with that she ran him through. A muffled gurgling of sticky blood was all she heard. A blow struck her from behind, squarely between the shoulders. Faltering for only a second, Jez spun around, her sword lodging itself firmly in the newcomer's side. Steam hissed from the wound as the mecha collapsed, never to rise again. A cruel reminder for the show of bad form. "Fool." she whispered.
What followed was the same as the previous cities. Surround, cite their options, wait, react accordingly. It was well into the night when the final city had fallen, so small were they, and so weak that several could be captured in a single day. "Pull back," Dilandau ordered reluctantly, "Our work here is done." And so the demons retreated leaving behind only ashes and dust, the Crescent Moon Nation as lifeless at the dark of the moon. Flying to the floating fortress Dilandau's wicked laugh pierced the night, slicing it the flesh of an enemy and leaving as much fear in its wake.
A/N: well whatcha think? hmmm. hopefully I'll get the next one up soon.I've just been either really busy, or really tired. Anyway, more exciting stuff to come, until then, *cheesy announcer voice* stayed tuned for the next episode of Where Loyalty Lies! //dun dun duuuuuuuuuun!// Anyway ja ne! Ciao! Ice Eyes