The cloth was made of the finest skins they had collected from the animals. The beads and other trinkets attached to it made it appear colorful to him.
"Bangoo, my son," his mother whispered unwrapping the bundle, "guard this with with your life. This is what they want and we can't let them have it."
He blinked when she placed the handle of a beautiful dagger in his hand. It seemed to glow with a blue-green light of it's own as he looked it over.
When an arrow pierced its way through the tee pee, he gasped and ducked. Giving a quick kiss on his head, his mother stood up and retrieved her bola, and bow. With a quiver of arrows over her back, she gave him a final melancholy glance before whispering, "Hide!"
He pulled the blankets over his head as she ran out and before he knew it, more screams came from the outside. He clutched the handle of the dagger and remained still as the struggle outside grew more intense.
Eventually, the tee pee toppled and Bangoo curled as tight as he could into a ball, praying the Great Spirit that he wouldn't be found.
Why were the Storm Crows attacking them? He had only seen them from time to time when he was helping his mother weave and they seemed nice. Why? Why did they want the dagger he now held?
His questions went unanswered as the tee pee toppled over and one of the posts hit his head through the blankets.
-
Aside from the headache, he felt nothing as he stumbled out of the wreckage into the remains of his camp. There were bodies everywhere, fire was still consuming shreds of other tee pee, and a cloudy mist made seeing outside the perimeter of the camp hard.
"Mother... Father!" he cried to the mists. Hearing no answer, he called them again, hoping for a reply. Stumbling through the lines of corpses, he noticed a familiar pair of people lying on top of each other.
His father's head was covered in red, while his mother's back was riddled with arrows. Eyes widened with fear, he approached the two motionless bodies and pushed on his mother's shoulder.
"Mother... mother... please wake up... don't leave me..." he said as he felt sobs crawling up his throat.
Feeling his eyes fill with moisture, he fell to his knees, letting the dagger fall to the ground. He didn't know why he felt guilty for dropping the sacred dagger of their tribe, and he didn't care. With haggard breaths, he started move back to the wreckage that was once his tee pee.
For the remainder of the day and the day after, Bangoo wept.
-
Bangoo had lost track of time since the massacre of his tribe. He gave up counting the number of times the sun passed over him since the third due to his hunger. Even more dire was there was no food for him to find amongst the remains. There were no rivers nearby and all the local vegetation had been razed in the battle.
Moving through a pack taken from one of the dead Storm Crows, Bangoo hoped to find something to eat, but found only crumbs from what could have been cornmeal.
The wind blew harshly against his lithe body, relentlessly blowing the cold air through the rags which was once his only set of clothing. He shivered and rubbed his arms together, hoping to generate a little heat in them as he crawled back into the makeshift tent that was once his home.
The weather was getting colder and with the winter coming, he was beginning to lose any hope of survival. He was only six summers old and with no ability to hunt like the warriors of their tribe could. Gathering the remaining blankets, he had, he watched the the grass in the distance wave underneath the wind and slowly fell to sleep. it was getting easier since he lacked the strength to stay awake.
The dagger he was supposed to take care of lay at the other side of the tent. He frowned at it when he remembered his mother saying that the Storm Crows wanted it. It was this stupid dagger's fault his parents were gone. He wanted to get rid of it, but knew that his mother wanted to keep it safe, no matter how much he didn't want to.
His rest was soon interrupted by the sound of hoof beats and three of harsh voices.
"Are you sure? I'm certain I checked the remains of their camp for it."
"Which is why we're back here to get that dagger. The East Wind tribes are a lot more cunning than you thought."
"You mean 'were'. They're all dead."
"True, but let's hurry. For all we know, the White Giant may be around here."
Bangoo held back a gasp as he realized that the voices belonged to three men of the Storm Crow. Grabbing the dagger from its corner, he quickly crawled to the opposite edge of his tent. He peeked under the edge to see the Storm Crows' horses, but they were no where to be seen. Being as quiet as he could, he crawled out and looked around, his heart beating several times an instant, praying to the Great Spirit that he would not be discovered.
It was only now he understood that the Storm Crows did not want to leave any of his tribe alive. Hiding behind one of the larger rocks encircling, he peeked around the edge to see the three fierce looking warriors sift through the remains, holding their noses closed to keep out the stench of dead bodies out.
"Hey! Look at this!" the largest one said pointing to Bangoo's tent.
"What? It's just a tent."
"Exactly, I remember leaving this place in shambles," he said, pulling out a crude bone dagger.
"It's probably some scavenger..." he started before aligning his train of thought with his companion's.
"...or a survivor's," the last one muttered before arming himself with his bow.
Bangoo's fear intensified as he moved out of sight and started to move away from the camp site. He had to get out of there, now! Feeling they would not hear his footsteps, he then sped away as fast as his hunger-weakened legs could. He didn't dare look back as the bushes and grass went by his sight in a blur. Time no longer had meaning as he ran away into the night.
-
Still clutching the dagger, he leaned against a rock and tried to summon the strength to continue. With every passing moment, it was getting harder to move forward, especially when he had been moving south for the past few days.
With no effort he could tell that his skin was practically hanging off his bones. With nothing to eat nor drink he was wasting away to nothing. His end wouldn't be long anyway; his senses were all dulled due to the weather.
He had escaped, but at the cost of shelter and safety. And even then, what hope did he have that they didn't follow him? They could have been expert trackers.
He attempted to stand up from the rock, but instead collapsed and fell on his bottom. The hunger had simply become too much and his body was becoming numb from the constant cold wind.
Again he tried to stand up, but it was hopeless. His arms hung limp at his sides and his hand was somehow still clamped over the handle of the blade. Wavering in and out of consciousness, he slowly teetered over and onto his side.
His eyes fluttered opened and closed as an eternity passed by.
-
"Well... look what we got here?"
Bangoo's eyes opened slightly to see one of the three Storm Crow approaching haughtily. They had found him... it was over.
"Yes, that's one of them, alright. Let's get the dagger and get out of here."
As Bangoo's assailant reached for the handle, the Storm Crow cocked an eyebrow in confusion, "he's still alive."
"You're lying!" one of the others said.
"Nope. He's still breathing and holding onto the dagger."
The third Storm Crow snorted and pulled out his bow. "We can fix that. Think he'll move much when the arrow hits him?"
"Don't bother. if the cold doesn't get him the animals will."
The second ended the exchange with a smirk, "Better safe than sorry."
Bangoo closed his eyes and let the last of his tears fall as he felt the end draw near. He was at their non-existent mercy and with no strength to even stand up, he was dead for sure.
Though he should have heard the arrow fly towards his body, all he heard was a sickening crack, followed by a blood-curdling scream.
He opened an eye to see a giant with a massive ax send the bowman flying into a direction before swinging it again, striking the other two Storm Crow as if his bladed weapon was a large club.
The giant had the headdress of a bear, if he could remember what it was. What amazed the young boy was how massive his rescuer was. The giant was practically a mountain of strength and power, clad in buffalo furs. Though not as heavily clothed, he did not seem as affected by the weather as Bangoo was.
However, he was far too weak to even think about thanking the rumored White Giant before he passed out. The last words he heard before the darkness claimed him were, "Paco! I found him."
---
As Bangoo felt the cold spring air of southern France chill his skin, he shifted his position to the east. Concentrating on the mountains covering the rising sun, Bangoo sat quietly mulling over the memory of the last days of his tribe. Could those men have been conscripted by Kunpaektu, by any chance? he had heard from Captain Matthews that some of his people had come over to the Old World once in a while, so it wasn't impossible.
However, the Storm Crow that his father had rescued him from did not answer anything his father had asked. Again, he was left without answers to his questions. It was galling to be searching everywhere for the truth and finding either lies or half-truths.
He turned to the trees to his side and whispered, "I know you're there. Come out."
A specter in the form of a man emerged slowly and nodded to him. "Sorry. I assumed that you couldn't see me."
Bangoo waved it off as he stood up to face the ghost man. "I've been seeing more in the past month that I would like. Even the vision I saw of you getting killed was not a pleasant one to witness."
The ghost nodded. "Ever since it happened, I've been watching over the woman I loved for the longest time. And I believe you had something to do with it."
Bangoo pulled out his dagger and showed it to the ghost, "Or perhaps this?"
The ghost took a look and felt the power emanating from the blade. "Most likely. At first, I thought it was the Soul Edge shard in Sophitia's eye that's kept me here, but it looks like that's not the only thing."
Bangoo looked from the blade back to the spirit that called himself Rothion, "do you suppose that this may somehow be connected with the Soul Edge?"
Rothion folded his arms. "I wouldn't doubt it. As I am now, the Soul Edge's malignancy can be easily felt. Oddly enough, I can feel a benevolence from that dagger that puts me at a little peace, unlike the Soul Edge."
Bangoo looked back to his weapon. He slowly began to consider if his tribe's sacred dagger was an antithesis of the cursed blade. And perhaps, it may lead to the cure for the woman known as Sophitia.
"How is she now?"
"She is holding up well, despite the influence of the shard. However, I feel that her resistance is beginning to weaken due to exposure."
"Anything else?"
"Well, roughly a month, ago, she discovered an old friend that was at one time enslaved to the Soul Edge, but she inadvertently freed him. Now, along with the man that killed me, they are heading north. They haven't had any success in heading east, so they're going to go around the ocean to the mountains where a supposed sage lives."
Bangoo looked to the ground. Wondering if it was possible for him to be help her before the cursed blade's influence took control for good.
"I must go. She is beginning to wake and she's moving into unfriendly territory," Rothion said before slowly fading into the morning mist.
"Take care," he said as he also left the site and returned to Ivy's winter manor, their stop-off before heading to the party that she had warned him about. He had considered informing his benefactor of Sophitia's condition, but thought better of it. He had a foreboding feeling whenever he breached the subject of finding a way to destroy it.
She had grinned like a serpent and said simply that she had her ways. He could only guess that if there were individuals possessed by the Soul Edge, she would kill them immediately. As much as he wished to stop her, her skill was simply too far above his own to do any good.
Knowing that brooding over things he could not control would do him no good, he turned and went back to the summer home of his benefactor, knowing full well that he was being watched by someone.
-
From the shadows of the dense forest surrounding the Valentine manor, Khara Talim looked towards the departing Bangoo with a visible sympathy. The winds around him spoke of the loss of his family and subsequent suffering. In fact, it made her want to reveal herself and empathize with him. However, her duty to Lady Harker still took precedence.
Previously, it had been Xianghua's duty to watch over the Valentine woman and the visitor from the New World. However, due to Taki's persistent interference, changes had to be made and Talim was forced to temporarily leave the sanctuary where she had learned much about her own powers. It was frustrating to know that the plans that Lady Harker had created for the Soul Edge were being consistently threatened by a self-serving demon hunter. It was throwing everything out of order and when Inferno was concerned, no chances could be taken.
Hwang was now watching over the elder Alexandra sister and her two companions, while Lady Harker herself was watching over the other sister, who, if she had heard correctly, had subverted several core shards of the cursed blade. Talim didn't want to believe it, considering all the misery the Soul Edge had caused, but the wind had whispered to her the truth.
"Nula," she whispered to the branches above. On command, her faithful pet fluttered down and onto her shoulder, ready to relay any message to her companions.
"To Lady Harker," she began, "My Lady, from what I've found, the Valentine woman and Bangoo are leaving to where you are. Considering that you will be able to speak with her, I was wondering if I could help Xianghua find Taki. Since she's been causing so much trouble, I wonder if I could try and persuade her to help us, at least, before Xianghua tries to kill her, if at all possible. Or I could watch over the younger Alexandra woman."
She lifted her hand to the sky and allowed the bird to speed off into the distance. It was would be only a matter of time before Lady Harker would receive the message and prepare. Talim had learned that the key to stopping the Soul Edge was to be one step ahead of everyone else, including Inferno, as impossible as it seemed.
Her present work done, she began a prayer in her native language. Soon, the winds formed around her person and with a final chant, a small whirlwind spun around her person and she vanished, leaving only the leaves in her wake.
-
Walking through the expansive halls of Isabella's manor, Bangoo wondered how people that lived so lavishly were able to find their destinations in such places.
"Good morning, sir," a woman's voice said from behind him. Bangoo turned to find himself facing Isabella's maid, Belicia. Unlike the Angelo or Amund, she was practically his own age, if not a little older. He found it impossible to miss the sweet smell of her cooking, most likely meant for her employer.
Noticing that he was enticed by her meal, she smiled a bit and continued, "if you'd like, I could make another for you?"
Mildly surprised at her offer, he quickly replied, "thank you, but no. I'll just get some fruits from the kitchen, like always."
She nodded and passed him, humming some small nameless tune beneath her breath on her way to Ivy's chambers. Though grateful for the hospitality, he had no intention of being waited on, like Ivy. He was not ungrateful, however, he did not wish to settle into a life that never was his and probably never would be.
Her servants were an oddity to him. First, there was the large and imposing, Angelo. Though initially distrustful of him, his nature soon cooled and he had reached a silent understanding with Bangoo. However, judging by his near fanatical devotion to Ivy, it would be best for him to tread lightly whenever he was around.
Then, Belicia, the Spanish maid who seemed a bit too bright and cheerful. In addition, she often seemed to be nearby whenever he required assistance in the manor. Almost like she knew wherever he was. It was unsettling. However, she had made no advances and had done nothing to step out of her role as a servant.
Finally, Amund, the tall and wiry Scandinavian that never said a thing. His eyes reminded him of a hawk on the hunt, ready for the kill. Isabella had called Bangoo wise for keeping his distance since Amund didn't prefer the company of anyone, even his employer, for very long.
A small part of Bangoo's mind wondered if Isabella preferred the company of people who could match her cunning or penchant for secrets.
-
"He refused me again, madam," Belicia said, placing the tray on the table.
"Good. You've done your job well," Ivy said, stepping out from behind the dressing shade in her traveling leathers. "The last thing that boy needs to do is trust any of us."
Though all of them, Amund included, had grown somewhat fond of the boy, they couldn't grow lax in their vigilance.
"A pity, really," Belicia muttered, looking at her hand, "it would have been nice to know if his skin is as warm as it looks." The maid caressed the skin of her thumb and forefinger together as her smile grew to disturbing proportions. The more she stroked, the more her imagination ran into places where few would dare go.
Ivy held back a mischievous smirk, "Contain yourself. He's not one of the many you prey upon."
Belicia turned to her employer, her smile returning to the mask everyone always saw. "Of course, madam. Will I be accompanying you and your guest to Venice this time?"
Ivy frowned, not at her servant but the suspicions she carried. "No, only Amund will come with us. I want you and Angelo to get the fastest horses you can find and scout ahead. It would not surprise me in the least if this was a trap set by either Winchester or any number of those fools after the sword."
Belicia bowed and returned to the door, but before she opened it, she heard Ivy speak in hushed tones, "Oh... and be sure to enjoy yourself."
The same unnerving smile she had returned as Ivy's maid licked her lips hungrily and whispered, "Madam is too generousssss..."
Sitting down to her meal, Ivy smiled at her servant. "Am I not always?" Her question was left unanswered as Belicia slowly opened and closed the door behind her.
-
From the loft of the Venice library, Cassandra watched the denizens go about their lives, blissfully unaware of the conflict taking place in the shadows. She could hear each and everyone of their stories through their manner of walking, posture, and what not. The younger Alexandra had learned much in the past month. In a few cases, more than she would have preferred. Her 'gift' as it was, had not only protected her from the malignant pieces of what was once the Soul Edge, but it had broken its insatiable appetite for human souls.
In its place, an invaluable trove of wisdom now belonged to her. Henceforth, she took to the great library where the literate were able to take in the lessons of the past. No one paid her any heed, since she had 'convinced' them that she was the caretaker with few needs. Which, ironically enough, was true if looked in the perspective.
Like a codex, she could see the past lives of those the Soul Edge had claimed. Her Bellicus, on the other hand, simply took what it needed and cast off the rest. She could even spare potential victims of her desire for knowledge and information. The thought of such made her smirk. Fate's games were hard to fathom, but at the rate of knowledge she was gaining, it wouldn't be long before she could learn how to weave through the sick jokes destiny often gave to mortals.
Looking at her hand, she had to remind herself that she was no longer mortal either. From the first six men she slew, she was most likely to stay as she was for the next twenty years. In spite of the fact the men were trying to kill her, it still bothered Cassandra. She could see the memories of the Immortal Pirate Cervantes and Nightmare's constant rampages and how they callously murdered many innocents to feed their lust for blood and souls. She wanted to deny that she would never do such a thing, even for knowledge. She was a philosopher, not a warrior.
But, was she really any different? Her desire for wisdom could take her into the same path at the Soul Edge's previous owners. In fact, one could state that she had broken the cursed sword's desire for souls, only to exchange it for something a little less abstract, but no less valuable.
"It must be hard having to live here with no one to talk to," a voice from behind said casually. Cassandra whirled around, and pulled out Bellicus from the ether to face her stalker, only to find an cloaked figure standing in the darkness.
"A few times... but there are times where I prefer the silent company of a book to people," she said, staring straight into the figure's blue eyes that matched her own.
"They annoy that much?" the person said, stepping forward and into the moon's light.
"It's no business of yours what I think of people."
"True, but what you do to people I need to observe turn up missing and eventually dead with naught but a dried and soulless husk, I can't help but feel a little suspicious."
Cassandra had a feeling where this was heading. "If you must know, they were trying to kill me. They wished to steal something that rightfully belonged to me and would have done me in had I not killed them first."
The figure in the cloak frowned, "That's rather presumptuous."
"And it's not your place to judge me. Now it's my turn. Who are you and what's your purpose?"
The person in the cloak shook its head and began to turn. "Just as stubborn as Sophitia."
The name of her sister made her eyes widen. "What about my sister?" One of the few things she regretted was abandoning her sister on her journey, but she had the Rhinelander to help her. She had considered searching for her, but by the time she had gathered the courage, she spent a week in fruitless tracking and asking of people who may have seen her.
"All you need to know is that she's safe. She's among friends. My agents are watching over her."
Cassandra started to encircle her visitor. "Then what, if I may ask, are you doing out in the field when you would be better off in whatever place you call home?"
The figure's voice turned sour. "Because I have no home here. All I have is the hope and the plans to return to the place where I belong. And I need the Soul Edge to do that."
Cassandra's eye cocked in confusion. "What are you talking about?"
The visitor locked eyes with her, drawing her attention from a small black sphere rolling out from the cloak to Cassandra's feet. The instant she looked down, the sphere exploded, sending her upward and onto her back. She was about to stand up when she felt the point of a blade at her neck, emerging from the visitor's cloak.
The blade itself was of an odd configuration with a set of triangles on the flat end, Cassandra had never seen such a design before. The further the blade stretched out, the wider it became. Nevertheless, it was a well crafted weapon and could easily kill Cassandra if she wasn't careful.
The visitor said casually, "I am Harker. We will meet again, Cassandra Alexandra. And if you wish, you can meet that the Winchestor's summer home at the outskirts of the city tomorrow night. An acquaintance of yours and a few of mine will be there in attendance. Some will even have information about the Soul Edge."
Cassandra frowned at her assailant, "Then I'll make that information mine."
Harker drew her sword back into her cloak and said calmly, "We shall have to see, won't we?" Before Cassandra could even think to stand, her assailant dashed towards the window and leaped out and into the night sky. By the time Cassandra reached the window, her visitor was gone.
End of chapter 8
Ah, gratuitous back story. How do I love thee and let me count the plot holes. Seriously, all we knew about our never-say-die Native American was that he was orphaned due to tribal warfare and was found by Rock.
Next, why skip ahead a month? 'Cause it gives the chance for this poor excuse for a plot to take a break. :p Also, I have plans for things occurring in accordance to the seasons. Yeah, future plot points. Wait! Put that gun down! NO! AHHHHH!!!
Moving on, Ivy's servants are more of my streak of unoriginal characters. Angelo was inspired by a muscle freak I saw from a MST3K movie. Belicia and Amund are necessary fodder to let more European countries get their say in this story. Yes, Cervantes is Spanish, but we're not gonna see him... yet.
Using the 'ahem' month, Cassie has come down from the power high of the last chapter. She's regained her senses and is still a good guy... maybe.
Then there's Harker. Fanfic points for those who have discerned her identity. Extra points for those that figured it out last chapter.
Now, we come to the part where the reader dreads more than an NPR Pledge Drive. The request for comments and criticisms. We needs our input, precious. And it must be constructive. That's how things get better. I provide the crappy fiction, you provide the 'sawed-off shotgun input' to improve the story. That way, we both win! :)
Finally, all things Calibur belongs to the Namco... whose loyalties to the big N, along with that of Capcom's, are somewhat suspect. But that's business for ya. Bleah!
