LUCKY THIRTEEN
Returning to everyday life was difficult. It was hard to just pick up and leave, especially knowing that a hunt had been called on their friend. Robin spent the day just trying to pick up the pieces of their existence and just get back to life as usual.
And that, unfortunately, meant training.
Another day of intense, physical torture at Amon's hands, and another hour or two of sparring, right at about sunset. She had gotten glancing blows in on her partner, but nothing to win a match. Amon knocked her down just as many times as Robin got a simple strike in on Amon. He hurtled her to the ground again, but slipped suddenly.
"Ah!" Robin felt smug satisfaction rising up within as she swung her staff around, hitting Amon sharply in the shoulder and sent the big man down beside her.
The two landed side by side in the dirt.
It took the girl but a moment to recover and sit up. Amon, however, remained on the ground, a grimace plastered on his face. Robin flushed with concern as the man squeezed his upper arm tightly, as if pained. He sat up, shucked off his jacket, and clawed at the sleeve of his shirt.
"Amon…." She blinked. 'Oh, God, I'm sorry. I didn't think I hit you that hard…."
He shook his head and peeled the fabric of his sleeve up to his shoulder. There, forming slowly on his arm, were three red spots. Robin gasped. As she watched, they grew larger, lengthening into little, maroon lines. They darkened like bruises, but had shape, form. The lines connected, forming familiar symbols. Runes. They seemed to glow and burn beneath Amon's skin.
"Teiwaz, Hagalaz. Naudhiz," Robin named the markings.
She touched them, gently, but Amon hissed. "Burns."
"It's the curse," the girl guessed, remembering the warning from behind the stage at Nocturne. "It has to be."
"What will they do?" Amon inquired, referring to her Craft.
Robin shook her head. "I'm not entirely sure. Hagalaz is the Rune of Disruption and Discord. Naudhiz is the Rune of Constraint. Hagalaz will send misfortune your way, while Naudhiz will bind you, keep you from using any sort of supernatural gifts."
"Can you remove them?" The man asked.
"I don't think so."
xxxx
She seemed so small, so fragile, like a child, lying on the floor of the mudroom. Brett reached down and picked the girl up, cradling her as he would a child. Kathain curled closer, deeper into him. Her warm breath puffed slightly against his chest with a tiny bit of heat. He stood tall, protectively clutching Kathain. Brett gave her forehead a slight kiss, as he had done so many times before when the girl had gone off the deep end.
Then, he turned.
Their faces were pale and ashen. Not a single one of the others knew what to say. Not even Nycole or Sakaki. It didn't matter. They knew what had happened to Kathain. It was just that not a one of them had ever seen such a strong reaction. They didn't want to know yet what the girl had seen in her episode. They parted ways for Brett without any prompting, allowing the man to slip easily between them and out into the main area.
Brett laid the girl down on the sofa, pausing to smooth her hair; the fire elemental tried to be reassuring as soon as her eyes cracked open. "Hey… welcome back to the real world."
"Wha…" It took a moment for her mind to clear. "How long have I been out?"
"About five minutes," Sakaki filled her in, peering over the other side of the couch.
Brett reached out, holding her head in his hands tenderly. "Kathain, focus. Remember." She closed her eyes. "Now, what did you see?"
"I saw the man from Nocturne," Kathain whimpered, still feeling the physical effects.
"Amon," Haruto supplied in shock.
The girl nodded slowly. "Yes. I saw him. I knew him. He was…" She swallowed, feeling a lump rising in her throat and trying to force it down. "He was being tortured." Kathain looked deeply into Brett's eyes. "They knew about us. They knew,.." She sounded so hurt; her voice wavered. "They knew about me. They were trying to get me to tell them something, but I couldn't. I didn't know what they wanted."
"Who are they?" Sakaki practically leapt over the couch. "Who, Kathain?"
Her eyes slid shut again. The lights flickered overhead with an electric surge, dimming and flashing. Kathain flinched, twitching violently for a second. Then, she settled. The lights steadied and glowed brightly.
"I can't tell who it is."
xxxx
"It's getting worse."
Amon shivered. His body was covered in a cold sweat; the fever soared into the hundreds. He was burning up, and Robin could do nothing to stop it. She brought him water, but Amon, the stubborn man he was, refused to show any signs of weakness. The burns no longer marked him like bruises. No, they gradually surfaced, singing from the inside of Amon's arm, strangely leaving no char. The runes had opened into bloody burns.
"It will be fine," Amon said tersely.
Robin took some sterile gauze and placed it over the runes, wrapping them gently. She hoped the dressing would do for now.
"You need a doctor."
The man shook his head. "We can't take that risk."
Robin could already smell the stomach turning scent of burning cloth. The runes had made their way up and through the skin, into the gauze pad. The markings held some sort of acidic property. No, for the skin had been seared, like liquid fire had been poured into Amon's arm. The odor of burning flesh almost turned Robin's stomach.
"Amon…. How far is this going to go?" Her words were hushed by a sickening sizzle as the runes burnt through the last layers of gauze, to the surface.
"I don't know, Robin."
xxxx
"Hello?"
Karasuma answered her phone quickly, still at Nocturne for the investigation. She hadn't been expecting a call from anyone except the STN. So, when the emergency call number for Robin and Amon came up, it took the empath by surprise.
"Karasuma!"
It was Robin. She sounded hurt. Or afraid. Or both.
The woman almost dropped dead right in the bar at Purgatory. "What is it? What's happened?"
"It's Amon."
xxxx
Kristo patrolled.
He had heard enough about Kathain's vision to know what to expect. Slowly, carefully, with the skill and training of an ex-army sniper, the man moved through the shadows, playing with them and stepping with them. He checked older traps here and there. This trip line needed replacing. That one just needed a simple tightening.
Kristo's rounds were meticulous.
They needed to be. If Kathain was right. If someone was coming for them, even the slightest of a few seconds could mean worlds of difference. These times were perilous and the tiniest of advantages could mean life or death. And Kathain? He would never allow his errors in security cause those events to happen to her. He could never allow her to be taken.
Kathain.
She was a partner, an ally, a friend, and a younger sister of sorts. Kristo refused to allow her to be taken. The man couldn't stand the thought of her being tortured in such terrible ways. He unsuccessfully attempted to purge the thoughts from his mind.
Bitterly, Kristo took his katana and concentrated, pooling the dark and wind around the blade as it slashed through the air, through the night itself. There came a still moment afterwards, unnaturally silent. The silence echoed and roared in his ears deafeningly. The clump of bamboo, shredded by the blade, finally gave, crashing to the ground. Kristo wiped the sword clean and turned back to the house.
His shift was nearly over.
Soon, it would be time for someone else to take rounds.
But, in his heart, Kristo knew it would be of to no avail. If Kathain had seen it, it would happen. It could happen the way she said it would. It would happen eventually. The only thing that mattered was how long it would take before those events actually occurred.
This still wouldn't stop him from trying.
xxxx
Amon looked bad.
Real bad.
Actually, no. Bad was a nice way to put it. Amon looked like canned ass, to put it in better terms. He was pale, with dark rings under his eyes and sweat glistening on his forehead. The former hunter shivered despite his heavy jacket and many layers. Karasuma hurt just seeing her former partner, standing at her front door in that condition.
"Amon, what happened?" she whispered, biding both Robin and Amon to enter and sit.
The man didn't sit. Instead, he peeled off his jacket and shirt, both sticky with his warm, salty sweat. The hunter tore off the burning bandage on his arm, revealing three glowing marks in the form of Futhark runes. They steamed as the heat hit of those liquid embers the cool air of Miho's apartment.
Amon's stony gaze ignored them, looking directly to Karasuma. "I need you to scry these."
xxxx
Yes…. I am several profanities rolled into one.