Amidst the thick pile of discarded rubble, packed together like stony sardines, some of the rocks shifted slightly, causing some small pebbles to trickle away with a tiny pattering sound. Like the beginning of an avalanche, some larger and more formidable stones rolled away, revealing what lay underneath the protected surface. A crystalline film with a milky-white colour was spread over the interior of the pile, binding the stones together to protect what lay in it's center. It glittered like zircon, or thick lead-tempered crystal. Tiny jagged peaks had formed between the gaps of the rocks pressing down upon it, but the barrier was strong enough to resist the pressure.
Until, that is, somebody put their clenched fist through the barrier, shattering it like brittle, fragile glass. It did not collapse entirely, just breaking enough to create a sizeable hole in the surface, wide enough for a person to climb through. Gallows withdrew his fist and shook the tension out along with a few little shards of crystal, pulling off the mighty gloves that he had borrowed from Clive after. His knuckles were cut up and bloody underneath, because he had tried to break out of his confinement, at first, bare-handed. It was only after Virginia had pointed out the borrowed tool he was carrying that Gallows had changed his strategy to an easier and far less painful one.
The Maxwell gang had been saved from an almost certain crushing death by Gallows's surprisingly quick thinking and reflexes. The Baskar priest had the shadow if an inkling that it was his inborn connection with the earth that had called him into action, or maybe, the earth itself had told him that it was going to fall. In any case, as soon as the bolt of dark thunder had struck the area above their heads, Gallows found himself anticipating it and he released a distortion arcana at once over his friends and allies, bolstering it's power by extending the reaches of his mind. As soon as the predicted invisible waves of the spell shimmered into existence above them, Gallows strained himself again and cast a magnarize arcana over the distortion arcana, the two spells reacting with one another in an unusual way.
When the distortion arcana spread it's area above the heads of the drifters below it, the magnarize arcana appeared above it and solidified into a tangible form, as it usually did, but this time it acted on the other spell nearby, melting into the shape of the barrier and becoming rigid crystal. The first arcana had been like a mold, while the second was like concrete poured onto an upturned bowl. The result was a physical barrier which simply could not by broken from the outside at all, encasing the Maxwell gang like a bejeweled dome. Gallows winced when the rocks struck the outside of the dome and covered it in a rockslide, trying to concentrate his energy into keeping the barrier active. The others were hurled into unconsciousness when the floor rumbled underneath them, like a violent mini earthquake, tossed into the sides of the dome. Gallows held out for as long as he possibly could, but like the others, had lost consciousness as well.
But now, after a little bit of effort, they were freed. Gallows stuffed the mighty gloves back into the pockets of his pants and poked his head outside the barrier, looking up at first because he was mindful of the idea that a rock could come crashing down onto his head. Things seemed clear, so he stuck his head back in and motioned to the others that it was safe to leave. Virginia and Jet were still inside, as well as Dario, the bandit who had been their enemy only a little while ago. Now there were neither good guys nor bad guys, just victims and killers. Gallows didn't like to dwell on who was who, so he climbed out of the hole by himself and waited for the others to emerge. Jet was badly damaged, though still conscious, but he had to be carried out by the others, unable to stand up for the time being. His right leg had been broken when he was hurled into the wall of the dome a while ago, snapped in an area just below the kneecap. The boy was pale, but allowed Virginia and Gallows to help him out of there, the female drifter taking his arms and the Baskar priest taking his legs. Dario followed timidly after.
The area of the cavern now looked quite different to how the Maxwell gang had seen it before. Great gashes marred the walls and floor of the ruins, deep and running like surgical slashes, ripping into the earth without remorse. They were clean-cut, seeming to have been made with hardly any effort at all. There were dozens of them, scattered all over the place. Virginia and Gallows carefully set Jet down and smelled the slight oily tang of demon blood in the air, dark patches on the floor indicating that enough blood had been spilled to cast such a scent through the air. A little ways off, long severed cables lay around on the ground without any electricity or source of their presence, even the giant crimson-plated golem Diablo appeared to have disappeared into thin air. Most prominent of all, a huge gaping chasm had opened up in the center of the room, near where the cables and Diablo had stood. The entire place looked like one great big battlefield after all the soldiers had either died or gone home.
At the heart of this battlefield, the injured demon was unconscious when Clive managed to pull him to his feet and drag him to a far corner of the room, the green-haired swordsman well aware that they were leaving a dripping trail of black blood behind. Catherine took Kaitlyn's hand and followed them, her head set mournfully down and following the trail of blood rather than her husband and his faint shadow. Stepping over a few strewn cables, Clive halted at a large boulder and leant Ravendor up against that, being careful not to agitate the dark-haired man's injuries. Everything was so quiet, so still, it was now quite difficult for him to believe that he had been fighting for his life and the lives of his family only a few short minutes ago. Now, Clive stood back and sat down a foot or so away, letting out a deep breath. He was tired. He needed this moment to rest.
Kneeling, Catherine pulled out her pocket handkerchief and wiped the blood off Ravendor's cheek, ignoring the horrible runes tattooed unwillingly onto the side of his face. She honestly didn't know what they meant or what they stood for, but she also didn't have any desire to know or find out. Her touch seemed to awaken him from his unconsciousness and she pulled her hand away, unsure. Ravendor slowly opened his eyes but did not raise them, leaning back into the hard surface of the unyielding stone. He was sitting on some of the cables that had yet to be removed from his body, and that made him hurt a little more than he wished himself too. The only good thing he could accredit to this hurt was the knowledge that he was still alive to feel it.
That pain intensified by at least tenfold when something unidentified grabbed his middle and squeezed him tightly, forcing the winged demon to almost cry out softly in pain. He felt a pressure on his chest and noticed that Kaitlyn had grabbed him roughly in a frantic hug, ignoring the fact that he was soaked through with his own spilt blood. Kaitlyn wound her little hand around a fold of Ravendor's previously white coat and tugged on it miserably, sniffling. Ravendor went considerably limp again and Kaitlyn panicked, jumping to the conclusion that he had finally died. "Uncle Ravendor!" She cried, thumping him with her fist as she did so. "Uncle Ravendor! Please wake up! Don't go to sleep! Wake up!"
This motion made him wake up again and he raised his hand to muffle a bloody cough, wincing from the bolt of agony that shot through his nervous system as he did so. However, he was now completely awake. "…Ugh…" He felt a cable spark in his body and he flinched, but then he focussed on the little girl sitting in his lap. For a few short moments, he didn't recognise her. Actually, it was the silver cross that was hanging around her neck that mislead him, and he mistook her for somebody else. "…Kaitlyn?" He asked, confused, but then his mind connected to the present reality and he identified Kaitlyn for who she really was. Ravendor sighed and dropped his hand once more. "… That thing… looks good on you, Kaitlyn. You should keep it." He said.
Kaitlyn shook her head and made a move to remove the chain, yet she stopped halfway in her action. Part of her mind seemed to remember the cross from somewhere else, and was reluctant to part with it again. Kaitlyn dropped her hands and hugged her uncle once more, though Catherine carefully took the girl's shoulder and pulled Kaitlyn away. She now had large smears of blood down her dark blue dress, and biting her lip, she also looked down. "Thank you, Uncle Ravendor." She said politely but sadly. "But Daddy…" Her voice cracked a little with emotion. "But Daddy always says that a gift is worth another gift given… out of the same sen-ti-ments." She had to sound out the last complicated word, and raised her small hands to one of the sides of her head as well, loosening one of her pretty blue ribbons from her hair. She pressed this ribbon into the palm of Ravendor's taloned hand and closed it, because the demon seemed to be loosing feeling in some of his limbs as well and was unable to move. "If you're going to be giving me your favoritest thing, then it's only right if I give you my favoritest thing as well." She reasoned.
Ravendor didn't have the energy left to refuse the gift. Clive, after a few moments of contemplation, stood up and walked over to the weakened demon, Kuronegaiken in his hand. He looked down at him, and likewise, Ravendor looked up. His green eyes looked a little lackluster and drained, but that could be accredited to his physical condition and not the darker, more alarming possibility. Clive raised his sword, but not for the expression of aggression. "You are dying." He observed without needing to look very hard, any fool with half a brain could see that. "I am not a healer, but I think I can help you a little. Please let me help you. Maybe you won't have to die. If we can find a way to supplement your panakeia, if we can do that, then maybe…" He trailed off on this sentence, unsure on how to finish it. Instead, he started a new one and removed one hand from the grip of his sword, a faint aura surrounding it. "I will save you. I know I can. Life Drain… Esoteric… Arcana… Retractio-"
"No!"
The winged demon managed to move, even in his critical condition. Leaning forward and almost climbing to his feet, Ravendor reached out and grabbed Clive's wrist with the hand that wasn't holding onto Kaitlyn's ribbon. Clive froze near the end of his chant, slightly alarmed. Letting go, Ravendor slumped back down against the rock and took some deep breaths, trying to breathe through all the blood coagulating in his lungs. "Listen…" He said at last, softly. "Clive… please… do not go down that road once more. Do not take that path again… I do not… want you… to save me again… You have saved me one too many times…" He shivered a little recoiling from some kind of inner pain that they could not fathom on the outside. "I am grateful… for the thought… but please, I am tired of being saved from death… over and over… and over…"
Clive looked saddened. "So your previous desire still stands, Ravendor?" He asked. The other demon nodded and glanced at the other two Winsletts, the daughter sitting in her mother's lap. Catherine was hugging the girl, but Kaitlyn had one of her hands clasped around the body of the small silver cross. Ravendor would miss it, but he probably wouldn't need it where he was going. He reflected on this again. The only demon who could stand to wear a silver cross…
"Listen, Clive…" Ravendor sighed, shifting himself a little so that he could sit up a little straighter. He tried to speak without needing to take a break, despite the fact that it taxed him horribly. With a lot of effort, he extended one wing, though the other was far too damaged to move anymore. "I was given these wings because they called me an angel. They are blackened by their intent and purpose. Birds are given wings to fly, just like drifters grow their own wings to fly across the wasteland. They are a symbol of freedom." Now he paused for a few moments, needing to catch his breath to speak once more. "However, these wings to me do not symbolize freedom, they symbolize the chains that bind me to my past, and to my duty as…" He had to catch himself from saying the word 'Master', "…To my duty as Malik's personal plaything. I hate these filthy black wings, but I also understand that my freedom and right to my own life has passed far too long ago. I have nothing left. Kaitlyn is dead, and Isabelle is dead. All I want to do… is rejoin them. This is probably my last chance to do just that…" He looked at Clive sincerely, almost pleadingly. "If you truly are my friend, then you will honor that wish."
Catherine dropped her gaze, biting the inside of her cheek almost painfully. She knew that what Ravendor had just said wasn't the exact truth, although she was the only one who knew this. The only living one, anyway. She had kept so many secrets in her lifetime, one might have, in light of these hidden secrets, dubbed her a liar. It was so very true that Catherine had lied to both Clive and Ravendor for too long to count, but she had only ever done so on the promise to a very dear friend. She had one secret left, and it hurt to keep it locked up anymore. It would be so easy to simply say something, to say everything, but it only became difficult when she looked at the man she had used to love in the eyes, or when she tried to find the key that would unlock her heart without tearing it into bleeding, painful pieces. Pain and lies. Lies and pain. That was all her mind was dwelling on, lately. All she wanted to do was to be rid of it, once and for all. Catherine knew the truth about Isabelle, a truth that even Ravendor did not know.
But in an outburst that startled everyone, especially Catherine, she was not the one to speak. Kaitlyn tore herself away from her mother's arms and stood bolt upright by herself, her little hands balled into fists. "Uncle Ravendor, that's a lie!" She exclaimed. "It's a lie! It's a lie! I know it is! She isn't dead! She isn't!" Then she fell to her knees and started to cry. Catherine was astonished by the outburst, and had to force her own burning tears back. But, this did give her the drive to break her silence one last time, and tell the truth while Ravendor was still alive to hear it. Catherine didn't know how Kaitlyn had known, but Clive, although oblivious to the secret itself, could have made a near accurate guess.
Catherine moved over and hugged Ravendor, getting heavy smears of black demon blood and panakeia down the front of her dress. She was shaking as she did so. "Oh Ravendor," She said forlornly and sadly, her voice wobbling, "Kaitlyn is right. I lied to you. I have lied to you for years, and I continue to lie to you. I thought the lies would finally stop after I heard that you were dead, that I wouldn't have to lie to you anymore, but now, knowing that you were alive, it makes all the lies a million times worse. I am so sorry. I didn't want to lie to you at all." Ravendor was sitting there limply, but with an enormous amount of effort, he raised his hand and put his arm around her back. Her warmth was truly comforting to him, and made the pain go away just a little.
"Whatever… do you mean… Catherine?" He asked, a little confused. What did she mean about lying to him? What could have been so important? Looking at Clive who was standing nearby, he could see clearly that the swordsman was just as confused as he was. Ravendor took in a breath, the feeling of sitting in a puddle of one own blood a truly unpleasant one. "I… do not… understand… what you are talking about…" He admitted, wincing a little as Catherine tightened the hug.
Yes, this felt right. Even before she had begun to tell her tale, she was already beginning to feel better because of it. Now she had no doubt, Ravendor deserved to know. "Before Kaitlyn died, just before, she made me make a promise to her, one that I would never break." She explained morosely. "You see, she knew that if I ever told you the truth, you would try and do more than you what were capable of, and it would have been bad for both you, and for Isabelle's future. She wanted Isabelle to have a bright future, a happy future, one outside of Little Twister and it's corrupting ways. But Kaitlyn also knew that she was going to die very soon, and would never see that future for herself. Kaitlyn didn't want you to be burdened with a daughter you couldn't take care of, so she wanted us to tell you, after she died, that Isabelle was delivered as a stillborn and perished with her. That was not the truth. Isabelle survived, and now, she is still alive in Filgaia today."
Ravendor seemed to stiffen at Catherine's last words. "Wh-what…?" He said quietly, in a tone that was almost a rasping whisper. At once, he almost forgot about his agonizing wounds and tried get up, thought it was impossible with his injuries and Catherine hugging him. Letting go of the dark-haired man, she pulled away and the dark black and blue blood clung tenaciously to her clothing, streaking a little on the fabric. The panakeia was watery and foul, and the rest of the blood smelt of machine oil. A soft black feather was stuck to her dress, matted down with the liquid.
Catherine smiled a small, wan smile, both her hands on Ravendor's shoulders. "Your daughter is very much alive, Ravendor. She was sent to the Claiborne Christian orphanage and was adopted by a family that lives in the town of Little Rock. She is not called Isabelle anymore, she was renamed to Annette, and now she runs the ARMsmith shop there. She just turned sixteen a month or two ago." Her smile disappeared when she saw Ravendor's mixed expression, and she seemed to droop, sighing. "I made sure to keep tabs on her while she was growing up, out of my obligation to Kaitlyn's last wishes. I am so very sorry, Ravendor. This was… this was one of the only ways that she wouldn't have to live a life just like yours or Clive's or any of the other unfortunate children in that town. It broke Kaitlyn's heart to know that you would never see your daughter at all, but it had to be done, and I am the one who carried it out." Catherine closed her eyes. "That is the truth. That was the burden that I have carried on my conscience for all these years. Now, you must hate me as much as you hated Clive. But, I am deserving of that hate. I lied to you, and nothing can undo what I have already done. I'm sorry…"
There was a long and weighty silence, one that seemed to go on forever. Clive had lowered his sword and was clenching and unclenching his hands around the leather grip, Kaitlyn was now silent and staring at the ground. Ravendor was just looking at Catherine, in neither a positive, nor negative way. For a moment, she could have sworn that there were tears in the dark-haired man's eyes. Finally, after far too long, Ravendor spoke.
"… You are sorry. …What for?" He answered softly, trying to conserve as much strength as possible. "It was… Kaitlyn's will to see that what you did happened. She would now have… a much better life than I could have ever… given her. And… as long as Isabelle is alive, I do not care… if I ever see her or not. Truthfully, I would desire nothing else, but… if that was the price that needed to be paid for her happiness, then I would gladly pay it." He chuckled weakly, but that brought on a small coughing fit that made him lose even more blood. "You did the right thing, Catherine. I am… proud of you, that you… honored Kaitlyn's last wishes for all… these years. Annette… so her name is Annette now…" Leaning back, he closed his eyes. "What is she like?" He wondered aloud.
Clive replied this time, having been listening in on the conversation and had met the girl a few times before in his own travels. "Pale blue eyes, just like her mother." He said, his words strangely seeming to come from somewhere else. "Long brown hair, the same colour as her grandfather's, and she wears glasses too, with a voice like an angel. She is very, very intelligent, almost unnaturally so. I think she may have inherited that from you, Ravendor. She runs her own store, all by herself, without any help. Whoever it was that adopted her seemed to have taken very good care of her."
The winged demon smiled heart-brokenly. "I would have liked to have met her…" He admitted. "But now… it seems rather unlikely. Besides, I am a no more than a filthy demon. What use would she have to know me as her father now?" To make his point, Ravendor tried to flex his wings again, but the nerve damage was far too great, resulting in nothing more than a pathetic shudder. Ravendor laughed again, ignoring this. "At least… there is another Begucci in this world that is not like… the old man. Knowing this, I can die in peace now." Reaching into the inside of his jacket, he pulled out his Peacemaker ARM and held it out for Clive to take. It was unloaded, and hesitantly, Clive accepted it. "Give this to her." He instructed, "And tell her that I am sorry." The swordsman looked at the small weapon for a while, then sullenly nodded, putting it carefully in one of the inner pockets of his coat.
She is alive, Isabelle is alive! She is alive, she lives, she is alive! Oh gods, oh Kaitlyn… I never… knew… If I knew… I would have…No, it does not matter, as long as she is alive. I just wish I could have known sooner…
Ravendor bowed his head and didn't say anything more, and at this precise time, the rest of the Maxwell gang managed to meet up with them, about as healthy as they could be in the situation. They had stopped earlier to treat Jet's leg, despite having no wood to make an adequate split, they had no choice but to bandage the breakage and hop for the best. Virginia was acting as his human crutch once more, Gallows also offering aid. Dario was, as always, trailing behind. Virginia nearly dropped Jet when she saw Clive properly, splashed in blood with his clothing torn and his cracked glasses, coupled with the deadly blade he was holding in his hand, he looked like a madman out of some kind of horror novel. But then Clive smiled at her, and the feeling suddenly abated.
When Jet looked up, he noticed the injured demon and raised his Airget-lamh on reflex, curling his lip back into a sneer. "Bastard." He snarled, narrowing his eyes. He still hadn't forgiven Ravendor for a great many things just yet. "Goddamn motherfucking bastard." His finger itched to pull the trigger, to empty his entire clip into the body of the demon, but then Kaitlyn walked out into his line of fire and put her small hand on the tip of the barrel, shaking her head as she did so. Clive likewise hooked Kuronegaiken's blade underneath the ARM and tilted it up, away from Jet's target. His smile was a tired crooked one. There would be no more fighting tonight. He would make sure of it.
Clive looked at the rest of his team steadily and then withdrew his blade, sheathing it by his side. "Ravendor has paid penance for his crimes. I have forgiven him. Catherine has forgiven him. Even Kaitlyn has forgiven him too. Forgiveness is always so much better than revenge. Please, I ask that you do not attempt to harm him anymore. He has been through enough. You see, he is just like me." The swordsman looked back towards the other demon, who was holding his arm weakly across his face so that he could cry his silent tears into his moderately clean coat sleeve. Clive still did not find any pity within himself. He had cried just as much when he found out that his own daughter was still alive.
"If…" He tried to explain this as best as he could. "If Catherine had picked Ravendor over myself, if things had been different, then it would have been me who was drifting alone, and it would have been me to have perished in these ruins ten years ago. I would have become the puppet of the Prophets, while Ravendor, perhaps, would have fathered Kaitlyn instead of me. Then, you would have met him on that fateful night on the train all those months ago, protecting the ark scepters, and I would have been the one to kidnap Kaitlyn and send us all through this version of hell. Can you fault him for a deed that was preordained by fate probably eons before our own births? I cannot."
Virginia brushed her brown hair out of her eyes, it was far more annoying now that it had been loosened from it's long and familiar plait. She didn't seem very convinced, but trusted Clive's judgement impeccably. She just wanted to get out of there. This long arduous task had worn her to the bone. "Should we allow him to live, he will be under your responsibility, right, Clive? I know I can trust you, demon or not, without a doubt, but I just can't trust him. He is also a demon, a menace, and a Prophe-"
"Nevertheless, he is still my brother, first and foremost." Clive replied curtly, cutting her off. Glancing up for a few seconds, he sighed, then almost on reflex, extended his right arm, the one holding onto his sword. He didn't know why he did it, until from out of nowhere two pairs of tiny little talons bit into his sleeve and Kestorael landed gracefully, cawing a little in confusion. The bird had made it his duty to stay away from trouble when it had been brewing all around him. Now that it seemed to be over, the bird had returned. Hopping up onto Clive's shoulder, he took one look at Ravendor and warbled sadly, ruffling his feathers. Kestorael had known it would happen eventually, but still, it distressed the bird greatly to see his master in pain.
Clive shifted his weight from one foot to another, feeling uncomfortable for a second. For a fleeting moment, he could have sworn that he had picked up a very soft vibration from the ground, lightly massaging the soles of his feet. Gallows, also, looked uneasy. This was enough to trigger a sense of apprehension to run rampant in his mind, growing without any control. Ravendor touched the ground with the back of his armor-plated hand, and then looked up, wiping his eyes on his coat sleeve. It looked like he tried to stand up again, but failed miserably.
"…When… when Diablo's power stores are… finally depleted… it can trigger… a self-destruct mechanism in the… reactor that stores… the golem's energy. I feel that… that… Diablo has… already activated this mechanism…" Another vibration ran through the floor, and now it felt and sounded like the ground was softly humming. "Despite Diablo's… current position… away from us… ourselves… I can assume that… the reactor will be… powerful enough to… destroy this ruin and everybody within it…"
Gallows freaked. "It can WHAT?!" He practically screamed.
Grabbing her husband's hand, Catherine displayed a more subdued kind of fright. "Honey, we have to get out of here! We have to evacuate!" Clive nodded and turned to the direction of the exit, able to see it through the shades of darkness. His heart skipped several beats. The exit was blocked by the same pile of rocks that had trapped the Maxwell gang earlier before. There was no way on earth they could remove the obstruction, not after Gallows had used a magnarize arcana to bid all the rocks together into a protective dome. They were trapped.
A powerful shock-wave slammed through the floor and up the walls, a distinct smell of napalm brewing down from within the depth of the huge chasm. Somewhere down there, Diablo was preparing to explode. In this way, it truly could be called the Crimson Hellstorm. A chunk of the roof fell, shattering into shards of stone just far enough to not be of any danger. Any closer, however, could have filled one of them up like a pincushion. Kaitlyn let out a cry, ever since the rockfall that had nearly killed her, such a thought of it happening again was a little too much for her.
Another one fell, directly above their heads, but this time Clive leapt and slashed at the boulder, cutting it into two great semicircles that fell away harmlessly at either side. Virginia was clinging onto Jet with fear, and Jet himself was not resisting her attentions. Gallows looked like he was about to start running around in circles screaming, and Dario looked like he was about to join him. Ravendor was still leaning against the rock, and now, his breathing was beginning to weaken and a strange kind of warmth was spreading from within him. Ravendor recognised it as the onset of death.
"Clive, come over here." He said, and his voice was somehow loud enough for it to reach Clive's ears, although the dark-haired demon was speaking in a tone only a shade louder than that of a whisper. Obeying, Clive walked over to the other demon, kneeling so he could speak with his brother better. Ravendor had finally stopped bleeding altogether, though Clive noticed with a sinking sensation that the light was at last leaving the bandit-leader's eyes for good. "This place is my grave. I have died here before, and I have no fear of dying here again. I am already dead, anyway. But thank… you… Clive. Thank you… It was… your… daughter… It was… Kaitlyn… that finally… showed me… the light…" Closing his eyes for the last time, Ravendor took Clive's hand and pressed it against his forehead. "I… love… you… Cl…live… don't… forget… that… I… always… ha…ve…"
The other demon was on the verge of bursting out in tears himself. "I know, Ravendor. I love you too. You're the only real brother I have ever had."
Ravendor nodded weakly, and raised the only hand that he had left that was still free. Kaitlyn's blue ribbon was caught in the gap between his thumb and other fingers, pale blue against metallic black.
He snapped his fingers and cast the last kind of teleportation spell he could hope to muster. The Maxwell gang, the Winslett family, and Dario all disappeared in a rushing of relentless shadow.
"…Goodbye." He whispered.
xxx
By the time Diablo had exploded and the roof had caved in upon itself, Ravendor Begucci was already dead.
xxx
Before any of them knew it, the small group of humans and one demon were outside, in the cool night air and rustling winds of Dune Canyon in the night. Dead trees creaked under the soothing movements of the wind, and a cloudless sky illuminated all the stars that could be seen. They were a little dazed at first, their minds trying to catch up with the displacement of their bodies, and then all at once they swooned as their equilibrium's stabilized. It didn't feel like a headache, as they would have expected, but more like their brains had gone into a liquid state for a few seconds and then went back to normal without any pain at all. Gallows and Virginia were holding Jet up, acting as the young drifter's two crutches. Besides Clive, he had been the most injured fighter and was deserving of the most care and support. Catherine and Dario were standing next to each other, both confused and a little disoriented. Clive found himself holding Kaitlyn at this time and he set the little girl down on the ground, the least affected of them all. He still had Kestorael sitting on his shoulder, the bird about as downcast as any bird could be.
"Is everybody alright?" He asked, trying to hide the fact that he felt like crying. "Is everybody safe?" A few of them nodded, namely the rest of the Maxwell gang and Catherine, so Clive performed a quick head-count. They all seemed to be present and accounted for, except for Ravendor. He was still inside. He had forced Clive and the others to leave him there to die. Kaitlyn looked around worriedly and didn't see her uncle anywhere, and then turned towards the entrance of the caverns. There were still heavy vibrations of the explosions running through the ground and the substructure of the caves, slowly pummeling the foundation into dust. Inside, large rocks of the ceiling would probably be falling violently to the floor. Yes, the entrance was still open, but Clive highly doubted that any pathways inside remained intact.
Kaitlyn tried to run to the entrance but Gallows firmly grabbed her arm and held her back, needing no effort but also taking no pleasure in the action. Kaitlyn struggled but could not break his grip, upset. "Let me go!" She cried. "Let me go, Uncle Gallows! Uncle Ravendor's still in there and we have to help him! We have to go back and save him! He's gonna be trapped if we don't! Mama! Daddy! Make him let me go!" At every exclamation, she tried to break free, to no avail. Clive and Catherine made no move to help her, though it pained them greatly to do so.
"Kaitlyn…" Clive said after a while, "I am sorry. He is gone." The little girl stopped resisting Gallows almost instantly, dropping her small hands to her sides. Hesitantly, Gallows let go of her, and she didn't move. Clive knew it was terribly harsh of him to admit this to his own daughter, but he could not, and would not let anybody hide from the truth. Enough truth had been hidden on such an account. "I'm sorry Kaitlyn, but it was his choice to stay behind." On these words, they all heard a loud rumble and a cloud of dust rushed out of the opening, a large fragment of the upper cliff-side caving inwards, imploding and falling away into the caves. Then, finally, the structure of the entrance broke under the pressure and it collapsed, removing the only way out. There was no cave now, just a thick and large quarry; a giant tomb.
"…Uncle Ravendor…" Kaitlyn said, but did not say anything more.
Kestorael cawed sadly at the huge pile of rocks, knowing full well what it meant. This was the second time that he had escaped from that ruin, but this time he knew his master was not coming back. Catherine took Clive's hand and Kestorael changed seats, fluttering onto Catherine's shoulder. He cawed again, but it was more like a sigh, or a sad whimper. Absently, Catherine patted the poor bird's feathered back. All of the Winsletts were looking up at the remains of the ruin, and during this, Jet bit back a groan and slid his arms off Virginia and Gallows's shoulder, looking at something out of the corner of his eye. Lombardia was silent and sitting in the nearby shadows, she must have pinpointed their location and arrived there while they were inside the caves. She didn't make any noise, honoring the silence that was around them. Dario sat down heavily, exhausted.
"Daddy…" Kaitlyn said after being quiet for a long time, looking up at the mountain-side. Her hand was lightly resting over the silver cross necklace that she was wearing. "Do you think Uncle Ravendor's gonna be going to Heaven?" She looked up at him sincerely and appraisingly, smiling a little. Kaitlyn was still a little too young to fully grasp the importance and significance of death, but managed to accept it in her own manner. This let her be sad for the shortest amount of time possible. Clive wished that he could think in the same way. Catherine looked at her husband, but decided to let Clive handle the answer.
"I hope so, Kaitlyn." Clive replied slowly, patting the little girl on the head. "I hope so." Then, after this, Kaitlyn wrapped her arms around Clive's middle and buried her face into his side, her sharp and stifled sobs muffled by his red coat. Sighing, Clive held up Kuronegaiken, a weapon that he wouldn't need anymore, and looked at it, wishing the sword to disappear. Instead, he planted the weapon in the ground nearby and left it there, until he would need it again. The blade glittered in the moonlight and Clive glanced up, taking note of the full moon. The pale moonbeams did not hurt him anymore, though gazing at it's crater-filled face made his shoulder prickle a little with unpleasantness. Then it stung a bit more, and then a bit more. Clive knew that his old bite wound had reopened again.
The curse cannot change me anymore. I have beaten it. I have won. But, I could have never beaten it without the help from my friends. Thank God for… Thank you God for, for… for everyone I love…
Clive felt faint, but then realised that it was rather late in the night and that he was exhausted. More than that, he was beyond exhausted, all of his stamina had been worn away. Now he felt too tired even to yawn. Hours and hours of fighting, of ceaseless tracking, of forced change and agony crept up on him all at once and he swayed a little, a small damp patch appearing on his coat near his shoulder at the same time, wetting it with blood. Everybody there looked at him with genuine concern. Gently, Catherine squeezed Clive's hand a little bit, but did not get any reply. The rest of the Maxwell gang crowded around him, concerned.
…It feels like my body is disintegrating… As if Filgaia herself is denying me my very existence…It is like…if I close my eyes, I will just disappear forever… I have never… been this tired before… Yes. When I fall down, as soon as I touch the ground, my body will turn to dust and disappear, and I will die. I do not want to die… but… it feels as if I have no choice…
Catherine's voice, echoing in his mind. "You are not alone."
Clive fell.
Five pairs of hands caught him, and would not let him go.