IRISH HEART

No mercy.

That was the way of the Thirteen. They were Warriors, true and true, loyal to Boudica without fail. The penalty for such betrayal as Merric's was always death. Death without mercy had to be handed down to the traitor.

Merric knew this.

He had known if from the very day he figured out exactly what he was.

The trouble with everything was that Merric never quite figured out what exactly the Thirteen were meant to do. Some divine hand had obviously crafted their kind, sculpting the avian form from the world. And, yet, the same divine hand merely plunked the Thirteen into the world. They were seemingly randomly deposited among the Iceni Empire, in the islands. They were meant to protect Iceni, weren't they?

Merric had never been sure.

Even as the Thirteen pounced him, the traitor could feel those questions coming back as his dark energies swirled and crawled behind his eyes. That power of his was loose within his own mind, begging to be used, urging Merric to put the Iceni to the death they deserved. It clawed at his mind, his very soul.

The leader of the Thirteen lunged directly upon Merric. His dusky, gray wings carried the warrior to Merric with excess energy and force, hurling the Praetori to the ground. Merric tumbled down with a harsh thud, but it didn't matter.

Even as the Thirteen drew their weapons, the world slammed to a grinding halt.

Merric's grey eyes went wide, feeling the very cosmos span before him as time bent to his will and fickle whim. The world stopped spinning for that agonizingly long moment. He could hear the heartbeat of the winged man above him. The blade of the leader of the Thirteen sang and rang, humming as it slowing dropped towards Merric. The young traitor could even see the sweep and vibration in the metal as the sword came down.

Merric shut his eyes, feeling the evil inside unfolding and unfurling, spreading from that deep, inner coil reaching. Those tendrils of darkness shot out.

But he just wanted it to be over.

xxxx

"So, I'm a betraying bastard?"

Nycole bit her lip harder. "No. You're not. Merric was."

"But I'm Merric?" Amon sounded confused, but he had yet to turn and face the empath who stood behind him.

The girl nodded. "You were."

"I am," Amon corrected.

Nycole just laughed, grabbing fistfuls of her red hair in frustration. "No, you WERE Merric. Merric's dead. You're Amon now. Merric's dead. You don't get to be Merric now. You get to be Amon." She let out a sigh of annoyance. "Just because you WERE Merric doesn't mean you still have to be him."

"I betrayed the Thirteen…" Amon whispered, still trapped in that notion.

Nycole just shrugged. "Well, if you really want to be Merric, we could just stab you now and save ourselves the trouble."

He didn't seemed pleased with that suggestion. "Nycole…"

"What?" the girl demanded. "What? Do you want me to feel bad for you because you were an asshole in another life… a life that occurred what? Two thousands years ago?" Amon didn't answer. "Oh no, poor baby found out he was a schmuck. WAS being the operative term, idiot."

Amon had never heard such annoyance and anger coming from the girl; it surprised him to say the very least. "Nycole…"

"No!" She held out a finger. "Y'know what? You don't get to feel shitty about this. That is a past life. You can't do anything about what happened then. But, y'know what? I you weren't too busy pouting in the corner, you'd see that you have the second chance to save Mairi, if you weren't too blind to see it!" Amon finally turned to her, a look of shock in his gray eyes. "You, Amon, have a chance. Not Merric. Not any semblance of a past life. The CURRENT you has a chance to redeem whatever piss-ass things you did in another lifetime. So suck it up, buttercup."

At any other moment, the spell would have been broken from that last word. It wasn't just the thought of Amon as "buttercup." No, it was the combined mental image of some web toon the girl had seen long ago. Kristo, Kathain, and Geoff had forced it upon her. RedVSBlue, some weird little show about Halo, with a gruff sergeant who would shout things like that. But it didn't matter. Her anger was too great, to the point where Amon could almost feel it, as though Nycole were radiating outwards to him.

Amon looked away. "I hadn't…."

"What?" Nycole fumed now. "What? You hadn't thought of it that way? You were too blind by your stupid, falsely placed guilt to think about anything other than your own self misery?" The empath had never felt so strongly about anything in her life. "You're one of the Thirteen now. And, y'know what, even if you don't give a damn about that, you SHOULD give a damn about Kathain."

That last one cut deep. Nycole didn't need her empath to know it. She could see the sharp pangs of regret flashing on Amon's face.

That didn't last long, as the girl's tears blurred her vision. "Yeah. What about Kathain? She gave her life for you, you callous son of a bitch. And all you can do is sit around and mope because you got dealt a shitty hand? Well, look around, Amon. We all got shitty hands. So, the best we can do is just pick up our shit and deal. Just deal."

Amon couldn't bear the sight of Nycole's tears, but the hunter didn't know exactly how to react, how to comfort the girl. "Nycole… I'm sorry."

"Damn straight, you're sorry," the girl snarled with smug satisfaction. "Now, what are you going to do about it?"

"I'm going to get Kathain back."

Nycole nodded, still crying slightly at the thought of her lost friend. "And, then?"

Amon sighed. "We'll figure that out after we get Kathain back."

The empath gave another nod as the former hunter brushed past her, a wave of darkness, desperation, and determination. Nycole felt herself grow lighter, almost happier and relieved. Her gloom lifted as Amon stalked off, a predatory creature with a renewed sense of truth and just cause. And Nycole's job, for the time being, was complete.

They could return to the others now, and get their Oracle back.

xxxx

Merric opened his eyes.

"No…"

He had wanted to end it, to end it all, but, not like this. The young Iceni looked around him and gasped. All around him lay the shattered and broken bodies of the Praetori, Romans, and Iceni. Not a single man, woman, or child moved. All were dead. All save Merric. He was the only one left.

His dark curse had lifted every last life of the Iceni from the face of the earth, save his corrupted blood.

"No…."

Merric looked to the sea of scattered, broken feathers around him.

His black feathers were mingled among them, swirling in tiny pools at the man's feet. The Thirteen were destroyed, just as dead as they had been before. They would not be again. Not like they were in this time. At least, that was what the Oracles had said. The Sisters Three told Merric he had to do this, he had to betray the Iceni and murder them. They promised Merris the Warriors would not exist again and that the battle would end swiftly.

The Oracles had told the truth.

Merric fell to his knees, unable to comprehend the death, unable to understand the simple sacrifice. But the Oracles had made very sure to guide him to this fate, to the death of his own sister, to the death of Iceni.

He let a call smash the dream that was the silence and quiet of the deathly still moors.

"MAIRI!"

xxxx

Short, yes, but the end.

See you next time, in the next story, TOUCHING GOD.