Soul Draining
A numb silence echoed throughout the room, Kite's vision slowly coming back into sharper focus. The rest of the healing chamber came into view, from the ribbons hanging on the ceiling and windows to the bushels of cinnamon and spearmint that hung by the window, the breeze wafting through it bringing in a strong, almost sickly sort of smell.
Kite's eyes flickered towards the only other occupied bed in the whitewashed temple room. Orca lay on a bed beneath the western window, his eyes closed and breathing shallow. The paint had been removed from his body, revealing sickly skin the color of sour milk that didn't quite suit his well-toned physique.
"Don't worry lad," said the healer, laying a wizened hand on Kite's shoulder and giving it a tight squeeze, "My magic will keep him from starving to death or dehydration, at least until he wakes up."
It was then that the soldier – Cyan, as Alicia had called him – moved a hand to grip his long saber's wire-wrapped hilt, ignoring the barmaid's and the healer's furious looks. His voice was very cold when he spoke. "Boy, I want to hear the whole story and if I know anything about the legendary," he spat, narrowing his eyes in pure hatred, "Hyrakkidouran Raikoumaru, he was too damn proud to lie and I assume his son is the same."
Kite scowled deeply, eyes narrowed. He idolized his father, who was noble until the very last moments of his life, and he didn't appreciate being told that his father was 'too damn proud to lie'. In an almost-monotone voice, he explained the events that had occurred in the temple. As he spoke of them, the memories flashed within his mind, which constricted his voice even worse then before.
Cyan eyed Kite in unflattering disbelief at the end of the tale, voice trailing away as he finished. The soldier opened his mouth with the intent of saying something nasty until Alicia cut across him with a hard tongue, her hands on her sword's massive hilt and her eyes flashing dangerously.
"Don't you dare say a word Cyan, he told you the events and you said it yourself, Hyrakkidouran Raikoumaru was too insanely proud to lie and his son is the same way! Take one look at the boy and you'd be lying if you didn't see the Crimson Raid staring back at you!"
Kite felt his face grow hot as Cyan gave Alicia an indifferent stare, marching from the room with quick footsteps. The aged healer sighed, brushing a stray strand of iron gray hair from her eyes. She seemed to speak to the ceiling rather then to Kite's face. "A messenger has been sent to notify Balmung of his partner's condition, and I do think that he'll want to question you himself. He's not a very . . . agreeable man."
Kite nodded glumly and stood, taking his hat from the bedside table. Alicia shot the healer a worried look but the aged woman shook her head, smiling slightly. "His fever broke last night, he needn't stay here anymore. However," she turned to Kite, speaking sternly, "If you feel like you need to rest, come here immediately. I don't know what happened to you in detail, and I wouldn't take any risks, understood Mr. Raikoumaru?"
Kite nodded and the healer mirrored his movement. "Your daggers and your pack are with Alicia at her tavern," she explained and Kite nodded again.
With a final look at the comatose form of his friend, Alicia grabbed Kite's upper arm in a surprisingly tight grip and led him from the healer's temple.
Mac Anu was ablaze with talk and autumn sunlight, shoppers crowed around the stores by the canals' edges. Boats, seated with a rower and young couples, were in the bright cerulean waters, waving at the many citizens on dry land. Though its marketplace was nothing like Carmina Gadelica's prized bazaar, it was crowded with an impressive number of unique items.
The tavern district was no different, people visible through the glass windowpanes of the many restaurants and inns. The Dark Flame, located just on the edge of the marketplace, was full of talk and people eating lunch when Alicia led him in. Her employees, many who only worked there during the day, were passing about food or mugs of ale. They all fell silent as the two entered the tavern, several eyes flashing towards Kite, but gradually fell into talk again.
"Kid, find a seat and I'll get you something to drink," she said in a motherly tone, her smile dripping honey in a sickening sort of way.
"But -" Alicia laughed hard, shaking her head and grinning wider. She whispered in his ear, pressing a long finger to his lips. "Don't give me the 'underage, so I can't drink' crap; we don't listen to the empire unless an inspector's here. I think you should come here when one shows up, it's always fun to see them squirm under my charm." To add to her words, she winked at a man, who flushed while his companions gave a roaring laugh.
She walked off towards the bar, leaving him to push through the crowd towards an empty table in the back. Flinging himself into the chair, he leaned back and sighed heavily. A part of him claimed responsibility for this whole mess; it was he who had told Orca to go there, and he who had failed to defend his friend in the monster's attack. There was another part that was saying he did nothing bad, he just told information, Orca went on his own and he was a weak little boy who couldn't do anything right, he thought with a sarcastic sort of grin.
Ten Years Previous to Present Date
'Lookie, lookie 'ere fellas!' cat-called one bandit, his bald head and golden earring glittering in the bright torchlight, 'It be lil' ol' Kite, back from 'nutha failed job I reckon.' The other thieves the other room, their numbers only about three, cackled as they looked towards their leader's only heir.
The small, six-year-old boy, his long turquoise bangs flopping into his matching eyes, looked up at the man, his wide smile fading quickly. His hat, much too large for his head, was tilted on an angle with the flaps lopsided. His large eyes narrowed and ignored the man's comment, continuing towards the door on the left. The bandit leapt down and grabbed the front of Kite's shirt, pulling him eye-level and a good few feet off of the ground.
'Don't care if yer Crimson's son, no brat gives me any lip,' he snarled, grinning with broken teeth as Kite winced, clutching the leather bag in his hands even tighter.
'I-I didn't say anything!' yelled Kite, trying to get himself free. The man laughed and threw the small child onto the stone floor. There was a nasty crack as he landed on his left arm, the limb bending backwards in an awkward manner and he let out a cry of pain, large eyes filling up with tears almost instantly.
The man sniggered; raising a foot to bring it down on the boy's small but turned his bald-head sharply as a woman's curt voice cut across the silent air, her words thick fury.
'Don't you dare lay another FINGER on my son you bastard!'
The speaker, indeed a woman barely out of her twenties, wore a pair of leather trousers, a white blouse under a red vest and knee high boots, her blue-green hair pulled into an elegant braid. Crimson markings in the shape of thunder bolts cut across her eyes, which were currently narrowed in fury. She had a belt buckled around her waist, two daggers attached to it along with a money pouch. She was built tall and slim, long fingers ending in inch-long nails. She was gracefully beautiful and held herself high and proud, her eyes a blazing pale blue color. Her lips were pursed and she drew both daggers elegantly, holding them and shifting into a battle stance.
The man gawked and bowed ridiculously low, the sleeves of his long shirt covering all but the tips of his fingers, as Kite sat up, crying and clutching his broken arm. His leather bag seemed abandoned for the moment.
'Lady Rei!' gasped the man and the other thieves got to their feet, bowing low to their mistress.
She made no notice that she had heard him, other then raising her right dagger so it was between his eyes. 'Get away from my son and do it now,' she said, voice as cold as ice. She had a distinct Omegan accent, light and brisk and usually disconnected with the harshness of her words.
He looked over his shoulder disgustedly at the sobbing child, who stuck his tongue out at the bandit. 'Milady, he failed in his mission, jus' givin' him da usual treatment fer failures, ya know.'
She tipped her nose in the air, tightening the hold on her knives. 'That failure is the next head of the Crimson Deaths and I don't give a damn if he got half the tribe killed, he is the son of the Crimson Raid and you do well to respect him,' she snarled. Rei nodded her head to the left. 'Now get, all of you.'
They scurried away, movements similar to the quick steps of rodents. Rei sheathed her daggers and knelt down by her son. Her eyes were soft as she tilted his head up with one long nail. 'Now, now, let mommy have a look,' she cooed warmly, taking his broken arm gingerly. He looked at her with watery blue eyes as she whispered a healing spell, pressing two fingers to the broken segment. The bone readjusted itself, though there was no physical change.
'Mama, why did he . . .? I got it . . .' whispered Kite, wiping his tears on the sleeve of his shirt.
She looked at him sharply, eyes growing to the size of sauce plates as she readjusted her son's hat. 'You-you got the Lady Killers?' she squeaked after a long moment of silence, 'You actually managed it?'
Kite nodded eagerly, grinning madly, and he pulled from the inside of his leather bag two dagger scabbards on the same golden belt. Both had the same, ornate silver hilt with glistening diamonds in it as well as the same words embroidered onto the sheaths, 'Lady Killer'. Rei lifted her son up gently, the boy clutching the daggers to his chest like they were a priceless treasure. Which they were, she reminded herself with a wide grin.
'You really do deserve the name of Kite Raikoumaru, my good little boy,' she giggled, kissing Kite delicately on the cheek and watching her son's watery face split into a wide smile.
'Really? Papa will be happy again?' he asked, pushing his hat back so it no longer blocked his view any more.
'Kite, he'll be happy for a very long time! You're certainly in for a treat!'
Hyrakkidouran Raikoumaru was a short, thin man with bright turquoise hair in a long ponytail that brushed his shoulder blades, his dark red eyes serious and hardened. His skin was tan and scared almost everywhere, his face bore the same red triangle markings that his son had inherited. He wore black pants and a long sleeved tunic with bell-like sleeves, hiding a lock pick set. Twin daggers were belted to his waist, and Rei knew he had at least four more hidden somewhere on his person. He turned sharply at the sound of Rei's footsteps and his eyes glimmered with happiness at the weapons his son was holding.
'The Lady Killers!' He took the daggers happily and pulled one's blade out. He ran his thumb along the sharp edge, the small sword inches from his eyes, 'Kite, you got these?'
Kite nodded happily and his mother set him down, adjusting the hat once again. 'He inherited your skill, Hyrakkidouran. Nobody else could steal a Lambdanian treasure like that at age six, but your son,' she said, leaning forward to kiss her husband on the cheek.
Hyrakkidouran chuckled, wrapping an arm around his wife's shoulder to return her kiss. 'Your flattery is nice, Rei.' She scowled darkly, pushing away from him lightly. 'I'm commenting our son.' He laughed again
Both thieves turned towards the young boy, who was yawning widely and almost asleep at his mother's legs. 'Yes, he must be good . . . to carry on the Raikoumaru's curse . . .'
"Hey you!"
Kite looked up, almost uninterestedly, into the wine-colored eyes of a young girl, around his age. She had very unusual looks, especially her . . . clothing. She had darkly tan skin, her revealed midriff and cheekbones bearing jagged, thorny markings the color of cream. She was thin and fit, like a runner, and wore elaborately designed metal armor of a brandy color on her shoulders, hips and chest. Boots came up to her thighs, the tops hidden by her white skirt, ornate silver designs crossing over the slick indigo material of the boots. A sword scabbard was at her hip, a vast one containing a broadsword with a hilt wrapped in navy wire. Spiky, petal pink hair clung to her scalp and she was looking down at him through angry eyes.
A little surprised, he looked up from her body and up to her red eyes, a thin blush on his cheeks. She wasn't dressed modestly, at least compared to his standards. She took no notice and spoke again in a crisp, clear accent he had never heard before.
"Well? You finally listening, dagger boy?" she barked, arms crossed over her chest, one foot tapping the ground impatiently.
"Who exactly are you?" he asked in a dull tone. She went red in anger and placed a hand on the golden hilt of her sword, the other one leaning against the top of his table.
"Speak with a better tone, boy, I am Blackrose." He hid his amusement at the name, though she obviously seemed to tell he was amused. She ground her teeth and slammed her other fist on the table with enough force to shake it violently.
"I am from the Ghost Islands, outside this empire's worthless control. Give me any cheek about me or my culture and you will pay dearly." The words were laced with a venomous threat and her eyes were blazing with dark, evil-looking fury.
He raised both eyebrows, staring at her in a whole new light. An islander? But . . . that couldn't be right; no islander had left their archipelago since the founding of the empire, King Ito had made quite sure of that. She gave a smirk at his surprise and tilted her head so that her pink bangs fell casually into her eyes. "I'll higher you for a mercenary if you escort me to a church not to far from the city." It wasn't a question.
Kite nodded; standing and checking to make sure both his daggers were at his side. She gave him a quizzical look, pursing her lips. "Aren't you going to tell me your name!" She demanded with a hand on her hip.
"It's Kite Raikoumaru," he said simply, his blue eyes meeting her dark-colored eyes. She nodded and marched from the pub. Alicia watched as Kite left, but quickly had to return to her work.
'Hope that kid knows what he's doing,' she thought heavily, passing around mugs of whisky to some Sigmanian merchants.
Blackrose was a very demanding woman, as Kite soon found out. Her knowledge of the mainland was a bare minimum though it did seemed that she knew a lot about horses. Kite himself rode Orca's white stallion, Snowfall, while Blackrose mounted Kite's old mare, Woodfall. The stables were at the edge of town so that the smell did not linger in the marketing district, an extremely smart move. She adjusted herself in the saddle and turned to Kite, a smirk twisting her tan face.
"Right, let's go." She twisted the reins and dug her heels into the horse's flanks. Both raced out of town, the hooves slamming against the concrete and then the dirt road. She was having an enjoyable time, a fiery spark glimmering in her eyes.
The cathedral in question was a holy ground for the ancient pagans. A magnificent building made of pure white marble, it was a tradition for the Deltans to visit it before long journeys and pray to the statue of the Chained Girl inside. Exactly who the Chained Girl was had been lost to time; the statue's name wasn't even its true one. Being Lambdanian by birth, Kite had little experience with such customs. The capital country for the empire, most of the customs of old had been lost.
Blackrose leaned against Woodfall's mane, a manic glint in her dark red eyes. It was all he could do to keep up with her. He dug his own heels into Snowfall's flanks and the horse, a parting gift from Theta when Orca and Balmung had left it years ago, sped up and quickly passed the mare. Theta was famed for its beautiful, fast (and expensive) horses and swift Grunties, the pig-like creation that had been brought forth from Wavemaster's magic. Delta had none on its own, but Lambda had plenty. Kite's own mother had owned an Aqua Grunty who had taken it upon itself to taste everyone of the cook's dishes.
The massive cathedral loomed ever closer as Blackrose finally slowed down, leaping down and leading the tired horse on foot towards the door, where she tied her reins to a spike by the door. Kite mirrored her actions and she drew her long, broad blade, giving a jerk of her head and he drew both his blades. She kicked the doors open with a loud crash, scratching the marble floor somewhat.
"Don't you have any respect? This is a holy building," he asked with a thin smile. She laughed openly and the twosome walked inside.
The walls and floor were shinning brightly, polished eternally by magic, and sunlight cast the Chained Girl into shadow. She had a delicately carved face, dressed in noble clothing and an inscription was under her. Rows of benches were carved from marble and sat in front of the statue, which had an iron fence blocking vandals.
"That . . . that statue," gasped Blackrose, a free hand clutching her heart. She sounded like she was going to cry, which was such a change from her previous brutality that he stared at her in shock, "It looks so . . . so sad . . ."
"The Chained Girl is an important part to the Delta pagans. I think she's supposed to represent homesickness, since it's a tradition for travelers to pay her thanks." He leaned close to the inscription but had to squint at the writing. Though the majority of the writing was hidden by age, he could make out three words around the middle of the phrase.
"Skeith . . . Innis . . . Magus . . . I can't read the rest, the inscription is faded."
She cleared her throat and he turned to her. She looked like she wanted to say something important but couldn't find the right words.
"I'm . . . sorry for the way I acted," she confessed and he almost did a double take, "You see, I'm trying to find –"
She was cut off by the heavy marble doors slamming open and armor clinking. Both turned and Kite found himself looking at Orca's partner, Balmung of the Azure Sky.
A young man with pale skin and platinum hair, he could have easily passed as an albino had his eyes not been a blazing emerald color. His armor was dark navy in color, ornamental wings hanging from his arms. Every inch of his body, except his face, was hidden by his impressive armor. Large, angelic wings were fastened to his shoulder blades and were tightly folded to his back – Balmung was the only Sprite to ever possess wings, he was well known for them. He was gripping a long, magnificent sword in his left hand, the hilt silver with glittering sapphire jewels set into it. A black, leather bandanna held back his long bangs. He had a proud, narrow face and a tight jaw, eyes livid in anger.
"What are you doing here!" he roared, voice with a Sigma accent. Blackrose, all traces of her previous sorrow and politeness gone, balled her free hand into a fist and thrust her blade through the air.
"Well what about you, huh!" she roared back, equally angry at being disturbed.
"There's no time, get out of here!" he bellowed, running towards them.
"What!"
"I'M TELLING YOU TO GET OUT!"
There was a flash of light and something monstrous dropped from the ceiling. A monster, covered in green and black scales, a blunt sword in one hand and a skull in its other. It had no head of its own. Where the hell had it come from, there was no way something that size could have been in the ceiling of the cathedral?
Balmung jumped high, aided by his wings, and thrust his blade down, slicing the monster's arm off. It gave a roar of pain but from the bloodless stump, another arm grew itself, complete with armor. Kite yelled and stumbled backwards, Blackrose shrieking in terror. Balmung swore loudly and violently.
"This one as well . . ." he muttered, though the words made little sense to Kite.
Blackrose, her wine colored eyes blazing in fury, raised her blade and charged at the monster, giving an unearthly battle cry. "NO!" bellowed Balmung, holding out a hand as if trying to will her back, "It's been infected by a plague from the north! It cannot be defeated, the virus will keep it alive, and you'll kill yourself! This thing can't be beaten!"
This thing, can't be beaten . . . Just like the monster that put Orca into a coma . . .
Open the book . . .
'The book?' he demanded but no sound passed his lips.
The power it holds can bring forth either salvation . . . or . . . destruction . . . at the whim of the user.
The book the ghostly girl had presented Orca appeared from thin air, levitating in front of him. He had completely forgotten about it until now. Neither of the others took notice; they were too busy trying in vain to hack the monster to pieces.
The pages opened, revealing text scrawled in ancient ruins. The book hovered for a moment then burst into light. This got the notice of Balmung, Blackrose and the monster as they stared in shock at what was happening. The monster seemed injured by its light.
The white light covered his body and it was like fire covered every inch of his skin. Through his pain, he realized that his wrist bore a glass like apparition similar to the monster's weapon that had deprived Orca of his conscious state. He heard himself yell out two words he did not catch, a magical incantation probably since they had an effect instantly following.
His own palm was glowing white as well and with a yell of agony, he pointed it towards the monster. It shot a blast of the same white light and hit the monster head on. It gave a banshee like scream of pain crumbled to dust after Balmung slashed it across the chest.
Kite fell to his knees, deprived of almost all his energy. It was an amazement he was still conscious; his breathing was so slow and ragged and his mind was spinning in nausea. Something small was in his hand, the one that had just fired the white energy. It was small and vaguely gem-like, circular and near indistinguishable from a glass marble. Scratched onto the surface of the item was an 'M'. But he turned his attention from the marble to the others in the room, swallowing a mouthful of warm bile.
Blackrose was pale as snow – surprising due to her dark complexion – and gapping at him with her sword falling to the ground with a crash. Balmung, however, turned to him with fury written on every inch of his pale face.
"So, you are one of the scum responsible for destroying our world," he whispered, venom dripping from his voice, "To think that I was saved by the likes of you."
"W-What are you talking about?" gasped Kite, looking up at Balmung. The legendary Descendent of Fianna, one of the two strongest swordsmen on the continent, was walking towards him, sword raised to slice his body into two.
"No!" yelled Blackrose, recovering from her shock, "Why the hell are you going to kill Kite!"
"The black-hearted magicians who spread plagues across the land deserve no mercy. I will kill all those who threaten this world." He slashed his sword through the air. "Draw, draw your sword!" he demanded. Kite shook his head, getting shakily to his feet. "I won't! There's no reason to!" How he could still talk was far beyond him.
Balmung's green eyes narrowed further, glittering with his magical power. "There is for me," he stated simply, yet the words left mystery in the air.
Blackrose grabbed her sword and swung it to collide with Balmung's. Caught by surprise, he stumbled backwards and gave the girl a strange look, though it too was filled with venomous anger. "Cut him a break, he saved your worthless life," she said fearlessly. Kite didn't know if she was just that cocky or didn't know Balmung's reputation.
The thief blinked back the white dots at the edge of his vision, forcing himself to stay conscious. Balmung stiffened and sheathed his sword.
"I . . . need time to think this through. If I find out you are involved, I will kill you." It was a simple statement, yet made the sparse hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up. With a final, silencing glare, the swordsman marched from the room.
"Kite . . ." said Blackrose soothingly, almost in a motherly tone. He turned to look at her before his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he collapsed to the ground. It was not unconsciousness, but strangely sleep.
Outside, a white-clad woman watched Balmung from the cathedral's roof, her slim hands gripping a magnificent staff that glowed with ethereal light. She called down to him as he walked from the church in a storming fury. Her voice was mocking surprise, the eyes behind her headdress flashing with malicious mirth.
"That was rather childish for Balmung of the Azure Sky, Descendent of Fianna," she said innocently, pronouncing his titles in a taunting fashion.
He looked up at her in fury, his eyes narrowed to slits. "I will not speak to the likes of you," he spat, waving his hand and speaking a few words under his breath. The lightning bolts he summoned bounced innocently off the shield she had surrounding her body. Seeing the uselessness of his magic, he continued marching away with his wings rustling as he prepared to take flight.
"That boy . . . he's a friend of your partner's," responded the woman, teleporting away in rings of golden light.
Balmung froze, suspended a few feet from the ground. "Orca . . . ?"
It took a long time but Blackrose had carried the slumbering Kite from the temple to Woodfall's back. It was nightfall when they made it back to the Dark Flame. The usual people who drank late had already gone home or to and Alicia was happily enjoying dinner at a table by the fire, draped in warm furs. Tonight was especially cold.
The doors burst open and the tan girl who had come in earlier came in, dragging Kite limply. The most noticeable change about the boy was his attire, which had changed from dark green to bright, vivid crimson, yellow symbols inscribed on his legs. His skin was pale, head lolling onto the side, but his breathing was steady and even. Alicia stood, her fork falling down with a clatter.
"Trouble clings to him like flies cling to death. Give him to me." As Alicia took Kite, his head flopped against her arm, a troubled smile revealed upon his young face. Alicia sighed and with the tan girl's help, carried Kite to a bed upstairs.
I do not own .hack, Bandai does. I own the gist of this story.
Please review.