TATTOO YOUR SOUL
Many were taken from the people, absconded with in the night. At the dawn of war, the warriors did not notice exactly how many were missing from their ranks, lost to wanderlust, to fear, to death, and to something else.
Warriors and knights alike from each side rose up. Under the banner of the black and red dragons, those who supported the true king rode to battle, supporting what they saw as truth and virtue. The warriors of the puppet king, the usurper, held up their red griffins, ready for anything this seemingly foolish rebellion could offer. Even the Prince, the General, and the Assassin took up arms, albeit with trepidation.
The Emissary saw this.
In truth, the Emissary saw everything.
But she, herself, had been taken, robbed from this world by interlopers or having left by her own stubborn will. After the Emissary was lost, the true king wavered. Her loss became his undoing.
There, the Prince's rage stemmed. He saw the faults of the true king, he saw the hesitation in the king's eyes, uncertain and afraid of what to do exactly. The Emissary had knowledge, dangerous information about the defenses of the kingdom, and she had been lost to the enemy. Still, the true king did not act, and this angered the Prince.
War was at hand, but they could not see past their own quarreling.
xxxx
"Don't die…"
Although Amon's breathing had grown soft and almost faint, he still forced the words out. "I don't plan to."
"Good."
Kathain sighed. Yes, this was all well and good, but they still had to get out, get away. She had burnt all of her energy in that one electrical burst. It would take days for her to recharge enough to make another stand. That, and she needed the proper stimulus to vent so aggressively. Amon didn't look like he'd be giving her another good slap anytime soon to trigger another outburst.
Mentally, Kathain cursed herself for denying her gifts so badly and not learning to embrace and control them as the others did. The girl swore if they ever got out of there, she'd go right to Brett and beg for him to help her learn. She would not allow those powers go to waste ever again.
'
That is… if they ever got out of that white cell.
xxxx
"Much better."
Brett preferred motorcycles to cars anyway as they sped through the narrow and winding roads of Rome, following the black, Solomon issued sedan not to far ahead. The men had "borrowing" a few of the faster models that had been lined up along the park earlier that day, taking them in quick haste while Nycole left the lingering mental image of the bikes, still neatly aligned and shining in the sun.
Now that the sun had set, the bikes darted this way and that. Nycole sat with Sakaki, leaning so close that her chest graced across his back with every turn. Robin, however, sat back on Geoff's bike as they threaded through the streets.
"That's him," Robin whispered in the bartender's ear. "That has to be Juliano."
Geoff nodded, gunning the ignition slightly more and speeding up to catch up with Brett. The younger male took the hint and peeled off, speeding up, alongside the sedan and peering in. A stern looking fellow with graying hair and a black coat sat in the plush, leather backseat, staring into space.
Juliano.
'He fits her memory.'
Somewhere, in the back of the motorcycle gang, Nycole mentally sang in Brett's ears, confirming his suspicions. The fire elemental sped up, going faster and faster, ducking in front of the sedan and braking suddenly, severely and sharply. The motorcycle swung around with harsh squeal of tires on pavement as Brett forced the sedan to stop, awakening his Craft as he did.
The others slowed and stopped, surrounding the sedan.
"Juliano…" Robin breathed the word.
Brett shucked off his ebony helmet letting it fall to the ground beside the royal purple bike as white-hot flames licked up his arm. "Out of the car." When neither the clearly terrified driver, nor the calm and composed exorcist moved, Brett formed a snapping, popping fireball over his right hand, aiming it at the car. "Por favore."
Slowly, gracefully, Juliano climbed out of the car. "What do you want?"
"We want Kathain," Brett snarled, feeling the welcoming flames rising from his heart and soul and across his arm. "And we want her now."
"I don't know what you're babbling about," the priest and exorcist replied.
Nycole could taste the lie, and she immediately called the stranger on it. "BULLSHIT!"
"Father…"
It was Robin. Her meek voice quelled everyone's seething rage. The breeze carried the word gently, wafting it about the entire group of witches.
The man turned. "Robin."
She rushed to him, kneeling at the man's feet. "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned." Her emerald eyes gazed up to the priest sadly, tears welling up. "I have committed many sins in the eyes of God." The girl looked away. "So many sins."
Juliano knelt before her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Your sins are forgiven if you wish them to be, my child." Brett allowed the flames of his Craft to settle and burn out, flickering out of existence as the elder priest went on. "You need only ask to be taken back into His grace."
"Father, please, you need to help us," Robin begged.
Juliano brushed back a stray lock of hair from her face, pushing it behind her ear. "Ask, and you shall receive, Robin."
"Where is Amon?"
Bear folded his arms across his chest. Even then, after everything they'd seen and been through, all because of that traitorous dog, Amon, Robin still begged and longed for him. And she seemed so sad, so tormented by loneliness without the gloomy, brooding man. She must have cared for him deeply, so very deeply to be blinded against his betrayal. Bear wondered if, as Amon dealt a killing blow before her very eyes, would Robin still love him so? Nycole just rolled her eyes.
Juliano leaned close to the girl, letting the word spill from his mouth directly into her ear. "Under the Baldacchino."
Robin nodded. "I understand. Thank you, Father."
He stood. At any other moment, Nycole would have expected Juliano to hug her, but the empath knew this man would never show such emotional weakness towards the girl. "Be careful."
A bullet whizzed past, pinging into the car.
"Get down!"
xxxx
They came back.
Kathain held Amon closer, tighter against her. "You can't do this to him." Her voice spoke volumes of ancient rage and panic as those green clad soldiers. "Not again."
"It's alright," the hunter conceded, even as fierce hands tore him from the girl.
They grabbed her fiercely.
"Amon…"
xxxx
"Juliano!"
The father pushed Robin down onto the cobblestone and out of the line of fire. The others ducked, climbing on bikes and getting ready to flee. Geoff scrambled to get on his bike and whirl around to get the Craft user as Robin stayed down, beside the sedan.
"Robin, I'm very sorry." There was tenderness to Juliano's words.
The girl blinked. "For what?"
"For Amon."
Geoff's hand reached down, hauling Robin up and back onto the motorcycle before speeding off. The bikes swarmed together, away from Juliano and the Solomon agents who had obviously been watching and tailing the group of witches. They were close; they had to be with Solomon sending out so many agents and operatives after the band.
Unless Solomon knew.
Brett swooped to the left, and the followed. Geoff tried to banish the dark thoughts from his mind as they peeled around a corner, almost barreling into a large, dark truck. Several Solomon operatives in battle gear stood ready. Geoff stopped, slamming on the breaks and spinning the bike around.
"Wrong way," Brett growled as they rushed back in the opposite direction.
"RUN, ROBIN!"
Juliano!
Robin caught her breath as she watched down the road they had just come from. Time seemed to move slower, more fluidly, as if paused just for her. Juliano knelt at the feet of Zaizen, a gun pressed to the father's head as he shouted to the girl. Robin blinked, trying to remove the image from her sight.
"Zaizen…."
Robin hadn't wanted to say the word, but needed to say it to make the situation real, to recognize the man down the road as he pulled the trigger. A bullet smashed into the taillight of Sakaki's bike ahead of them, with a glittering, red burst, dispelling the notion.
Nycole screamed. "God damned Solomon!"
They sped down the streets faster, harder, knowing they were being following now. Brett glanced over his shoulder, seeing the van that following, speeding up behind them. They couldn't take this risk. Not anymore. Sirens wailed as lights flashed and blinked over the van and others as Italian police joined the chase. This chase had to end, but Kristo wouldn't be able to muster enough darkness to swallow up the entire group and the motorcycles.
Brett shook his head. "Split up!"
The group diverged, knowing they could find one another again, in time, and with Nycole's help. Into the night, they split, snaking down different alleys, away from Solomon, all except for Brett. The fire elemental continue onward, as the van followed. A bullet pinged off the tailpipe of the motorcycle with a metallic clink.
"Sonovabitch."
Brett glanced around, hurling a fireball right at the front tires of the van. The tires burst, and the van teetered, spinning out of control and coming to an awkward halt.
"Stupid pricks."
Brett flew off, into the night.
xxxx
"Don't do this."
This time, Zaizen wasn't there, but he had sent lackeys who seemed to know exactly what they needed to do and how to do it. And they were good at it. Kathain felt tears stream down her cheeks, hot and burning oddly.
"Please…"
But it was too late.
xxxx
Mmm…. We're getting closer to conflictiness…..
