Chapter 3, Love at first kill
Tricla sighed as she felt her disciple's spirit go poof.
"And that's the first end of her," the mistress announced and reached
for another drink.
"I'm sure she gave him a decent fight though," Sciel said in a lazily
comforting manner while chewing on an unspeakable snack.
The scorpion nodded but muttered:
"First lesson after her resurrection will be step one of attacking
patterns though."
"You aren't worried about him finding out that you were behind the attack
then, Sciel dear?" Arachne asked.
The carmilla shrugged.
"Not if she gave him some practice without drawing blood. He gets cranky
when he bleeds, the little darling. As long as he doesn't get a lead to me,
there's nothing to..."
She got cut off by a sudden call.
"Mistress!"
"Hmm?" Tricla said, looking up and to her right.
From the shifting nothingness burst a seemingly endless flow of yellow and
orange, forming a less fuzzy shape beside Tricla's throne. The ending result
was tower of scales and muscles, upon which rested an at least partly human
upper body.
For a moment it seemed almost as if Nagia had come back to life, until one
realized that this naga's scales had a lighter color, and that her long snake
tail was in one single piece.
"Hello Slither," Tricla said with a welcoming smirk, "about
Nagia, it was lord Rakadra. I recommend caution in his case, darling."
"That's what I thought!" the snake demonette triumphantly grinned,
though she was wringing her hands nervously - which almost made her cut her own
fingers off with her claws.
The grin revealed fang upon fang and definitely deserved the label
"worrisome".
"I saw it, how he killed my big sister!" she continued, "it...
he... I..."
She fumbled with the words, stuck in the fresh memory being replayed in her
head over and over again.
"You are going to annoy him into a state of berserking, I can tell as much
already," Sciel declared, casually spinning her little bowl to stir the
stagnating content.
But the interested smirk that followed upon her degrading words hinted at that
she rather liked that idea.
And so did Slither, if one dared to read her beaming face.
"That's one of her specialties," Tricla offered, "but there's
more to it than that."
"I'm only annoying in the start to catch them off guard," Slither
assured, letting her hands fall to prove that she wasn't loosing her head
completely.
"Mhm..."
Sciel nodded thoughtfully.
"But when it comes to Rakky," she said, "I would advise you to
skip the irritation and aim for the throat. If you want to live through a
flirt, that is."
"Thank you, lady Sciel," the naga said, bowing her head briefly,
"I will give it a try. Even so..."
She sighed, gaze wandering off into the air in a daydream.
"Such a gory death, too... I could live with that."
And with that she snapped her fingers and disappeared in a black flame.
"I believe that we'll need more blood from Rakadra," Arachne chirped,
her claws merrily clicking against each other.
"Oh, I don't know..."
Tricla sipped her drink with a chuckle.
"Slither has a specialty that might catch his interest. Provided she
doesn't anger him too much first."
"Kids these days!" Sciel muttered and reached for another snack from
the cage on the table, "never listening to their caring superiors..."
*
Rakadra's feet made contact
with the ever-changing ground and his lizard eyes scanned the land before him.
Or the gap, rather.
The nether was a confusing place of no rules of land that went for stable
worlds, but some things were excluded from the ever-changing dark mist that
only demons could find their way through.
For example, this ravine.
It spread out from horizon to horizon - this being one of the few places in
this world where one even could TALK about a horizon - and its complete void
was almost too great for even the demons to fathom.
Rakadra reached out his left hand, pressing the pointing and middle finger
against each other while clenching the other fingers without much force.
Quickly he drew a few mystical signs that momentarily burned against the air's
foreground of the eternal blackness of the ravine, while he muttered under his
breath in a guttural voice.
A whispering sound came from the ravine and a shapeless shadow arose from it,
seen only because it had a lighter color than the depth.
Rakadra sat down on one knee, holding out the half-eaten heart of the
unfortunate naga. Dark blood still dripped from it and covered half his
underarm.
"Master Jagan," he said.
A hand and arm, skin as pale as ashes, reached out from the shadow, grabbed the
heart and retreated back into the lighter darkness.
Moments passed.
"Fine for a snack, I suppose," the old vampire's voice eventually
came from the shadow, "what would a naga want with you, though?"
"I was wondering that as well, but I suppose it isn't that
important," Rakadra said, shrugging.
"Nothing you can't handle, no," Jagan agreed, then took on a more
serious tone, "how fare the new plans?"
"We're still too exhausted from the last two attempts," the
half-breed growled with an angry shake of his head, "and the decline of
magic isn't helping either."
The destruction of the Mana Sword and the fall of the Tree had been
strategically good - if it hadn't been for the fact that the demons had been
among the losers of the evil armies. If the Dragon Emperor hadn't been defeated
by the Mana warriors, there would still have been enough magic in the world
left for the underworld to launch a massive attack by this time. They had tried
with Rolante under Teron Gorefiend - it could have been a start of revenge and
a way of accumulating a stable hold of the world with less clean rites - hadn't
things gotten out of hand as they had done.
Rakadra preferred not to think too much of is less he'd pop more vessels than
he could afford. He had already had plenty of reasons to hate the inhabitants
of Rolante before those events. Two versions of Kevin and Lise, not to mention
one Jason - which was more than enough (twitch!) - was a little more
hatred-worthy than even he could handle. As satisfying as some things of it had
been, the ending result...
He shook himself free before he started chewing froth again.
"We're doing our best," he said in a low growl, "worry not, the
next atte- wha?"
The last word was caused by the two sudden flares of burning heat that swept
forth below both his jawbones from behind. There was a low click and the heat
was gone again, all during the time it took to exclaim "wha".
Rakadra spun around, but there was no one in sight.
Click?
He looked down, still trapped in the surprise.
TWITCH!
It took Jagan quite a while to
make himself heard well enough to demand an explanation. And the reason he
finally made it through was simply because Rakadra eventually exhausted himself
to a near-death status and collapsed on the blood-stained ground, panting for
air. The skin on his fingers had in large areas been torn to pieces and black
liquid seeped from the deep, ragged cuts on his throat.
"What happened? Answer me!" Jagan snarled from the shadow.
Groaning, the half-breed obeyed the words of his dead master, crawling up to
the flowing form rising from the depth. A shaking hand that had seen better
days floated up and disappeared into the dusk, sending ripples through the
shadow.
There was a pause as Jagan read his disciple's last memories. Then the shade
violently trembled as the vampire roared with laughter.
With an enraged snarl Rakadra pulled back, too angry to even bothering to
notice the fact that all the blood on his hand had "mysteriously"
disappeared during the exchange. He was busy KNOWING who was behind the prank
this time.
Pushing himself up he cast a spell of darkness upon himself to heal, fueled by
his anger. He threw himself into the air before the wounds had even fully
closed, eyes blazing.
And Jagan kept laughing. Suddenly limbo had become a lot more endurable.
*
"SCIEL!!"
"Oh my..." the vampiress mumbled, trying to feign calm while she
threw up all mental and physical shields she could manage on such a short
notice.
Had she been half a second slower, Rakadra's claws would have been cleaving her
guts. As it was, he just ended up punching an invisible wall a few inches from
her chest. Grey sparkles flew from the connection and Sciel grimaced
uncomfortably.
Rakadra was hardly calmed by this distraction and his fist opened, fingers
spreading out against the protective spell. Black lightning bolts shot out from
his fingertips, crawling over the whole transparent bubble.
Sciel's bowl fell out of her hand, hit the armrest and tumbled onto the ground,
its spilled contents oozing and bubbling angrily upon all surfaces it touched.
The carmilla had no time to think of that, busy clutching her head in agony as
she struggled to maintain her defenses.
Arachne and Tricla watched the spectacle with great interest, but made no moves
to aid Sciel, or even raise from their chairs.
Through the intense flares tearing through her mind, the vampiress vaguely
noted that there was something peculiar about Rakadra's assault.
"Hold... hold up, Rakky!" she managed to screech, pressing the words
through her tightly clamped teeth.
The attack subsided momentarily, only to return in one last, stronger blow that
despite the walls knocked Sciel backwards into the backrest of her throne.
Somehow she managed to keep her shields raised even as she tried to regain her
composure.
Forcing one eye open she glared up at the half-blood and his one outstretched
hand, where black needles still jumped between the claws.
... One hand?
The left one was clenched, up by the point below his throat where Rakadra's
collarbones almost met. A thin, silvery chain encircled his neck, flowing out
from the white-knuckled fist in two small streams.
Sciel wanted to ask, but first thing first.
"What was that for?!" she pouted.
She got both the mysteries solved at the same time as Rakadra replied.
"This!" he snarled, eyes glowing red with rage as he opened
his fist and unveiled the source of his fury.
Sciel momentarily noted the remaining stains of black blood on his neck, before
her sight was drawn to the item that weighed down the chain. Mainly because
since the color of it frankly screamed against the rest of Rakadra's color
scheme.
She blinked.
She coughed.
She threw her head back and laughed.
Arachne curiously bent forwards to get into the right angle to see, while
Tricla stretched her neck over the table and around the half-demon's shoulder.
Both of them reacted just like two vampires already had done. At least the
scorpio managed to keep calm until she had properly retracted her neck before
she dissolved in hysterics.
Rakadra meanwhile, understandably, fumed. Literally. The last remains of blood
were burnt away from his skin. Had Sciel not kept her shields active, he would
have grabbed her by the neck and done uncomfortable things with her spine. But
as he wasn't allowed to do that, he slammed both hands against the bubble and
let loose another burst of lightning. But even that only momentarily stopped
her insane giggling.
"Get this thing off me, leech!" he finally roared.
"It's... not... wahaha... mine!" Sciel croaked between a few
gasps for air* and uncontrollable busts of laughter.
She clutched her stomach now, trying to get a little control back while Rakadra
snarled raw obscenities at her. Finally she managed to calm down enough to dry
her gleeful tears away well enough to peer up at him again.
"It looks kinda cute on you though!" she squeaked, which only sent
her and her friends back into the pit of giggles.
Rakadra himself hardly helped pulling them back to sanity.
"It's a heart! It's PINK!!" he roared.
"How sweet!" Arachne squealed, then quickly threw up her net to block
a dark blast.
Eventually though, Tricla managed to bring a little peace into the picture.
Sorta.
"It's from one of my girls!" she screeched, far hoarser than usual,
"it seems she was smitten by you killing her sister!"
Rakadra apparently had troubles sorting out what to do first as he opened and
closed his mouth in sync with his twitching fingers a few times.
"How many ARE there!?" he finally settled for.
"Many, dear!"
And she went down in snickers again.
"Don't worry, Rakky!" Sciel giggled, "it's no fun to send
several of the same kind after you. We'll think of something else next
time."
Deliberately slow the half-blood turned back to the carmilla, speaking in a
very low, dark voice.
"Sci-i-iel..."
"Aww, come on Rakky!"
He had been berserking for quite a while now, and it was starting to wear even
him out. The last explosion of lightning was definitely weaker than the other
ones.
He took in a deep breath to bring a little order to his burning nerves and sent
one last death glare at the carmilla.
"I'll find that worm first, and then you better watch your back,
Sciel," he growled.
She was still giggling. Snarling, he turned back to Tricla, who had calmed down
almost completely and now just worked on her breathing. Meeting the male
demon's glare, she smirked.
"Her name is Slither, dear," she replied without the question.
Without a word Rakadra reached up to the cute little pendant and lifted it
between two claws, as if it was too hot to touch properly.
"Just be prepared," Tricla added, a few more teeth showing as the
smirk grew, "she may still surprise you."
"Don't bother to warn me," Rakadra snapped and took off again with a
few powerful flaps of his wings.
"It wasn't a warning..." Tricla murmured.
"What was it then?" Sciel wondered while stretching, a teasing giggle
still fresh on her lips.
"She has a speciality..."
Tricla paused and took a new drink from the table. It was quite a sight as her
claws were far bigger than her own head.
"... It might interest him," she then thoughtfully continued,
"provided she survives long enough to use it, of course."
"What would that be?"
Sciel's neck made popping sounds as she pushed her head from side to side, but
she didn't let that get in the way of her query.
"That... is a secret**."
Tricla sipped her drink with a huge grin. The carmilla was about to protest
when Arachne got in between.
"Mm, what power! I didn't know that he was that strong!" she grinned,
"the force in his attack... aw, Sciel, I'm so jealous!"
The vampiress sighed in content, nabbing another snack before she leant back.
"Such is our Rakadra..." she agreed, basking in the pain's afterglow.
*Old habits die hard?
**Aaah, Slayers. I loveth
thee.
Yes gentle readers, these people do indeed scare me too.
