DISCLAIMER: X-Men:Evo belongs to Warner Bros. And Marvel Comics. I have never, and shall never own them, no matter how much I may want to. I've simply warped them to fit my own twisted mind. However, this fic and any original work herein is officially mine, and anyone trying to steal it will find out how painful a weapon a computer mouse can when used by someone with imagination.
WARNINGS: This is an AU (Alternative Universe) fic. Everything has been transplanted into a fantasy universe of my creation. Inspirations, despite what you might initially think, aren't actually from a certain Peter-Jackson-esque film, since I started work on this before I ever *saw* that movie. Influences rather include Internutter's spiffy fic 'Mein Teuful' (if you haven't yet read this then go do it *now*!) and various other sources I'll explain later.
CODES:
Hello = Narration
~ Hello ~ = Thought
"Hello" = Character Speaking
*Hello* = Bold
//Hello// = Psychic communication
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thanx to everyone who's reviewed so far. The response thus far has been much more than I even hoped for. ^_^ I'm sorry I couldn't get this installment up sooner. My computer was acting up again. Go figure. Btw, if anyone wants a picture of the creature chasing Rogue and Kurt, go to http://www.poolofradience.com/thirded and click on the chimera icon. This is where I got my inspiration for it.
'Crash', the Tolkien reference was only a nod at the original fantasy quest epic structure. I never meant to insinuate that my fic was in the same vein as TLoTR. Plus, Rogue is from The Guild of *Assassins*, not Thieves. This kind of couple-related assumption makes me a bit annoyed, too. I never even mentioned hooking Rogue up with anyone, but as soon as the word 'Guild' is mentioned people immediately dismiss it as just another 'Remy/Rogue'. Wait a little, dear readers, and all will be revealed. And perhaps I'll surprise you all. I enjoy rocking the boat a little.
Rant over, on with the fic.
*******************
'Of Beast And Blade' By Scribbler
Chapter Two ~ 'Aberration'
*******************
'The race of mankind would perish did they cease to aid each other. We cannot exist without mutual help. All therefore that need aid have a right to ask it from their fellow-men; and no one who has the power of granting can refuse it without guilt.' -- Walter Scott
*******************
The ball of flames exploded above his head. Kurt felt his fur singe as sparks rained down on him, and doubled his pace to escape being burned more. Behind him lumbered the snarling three-headed beast sprung straight from a nightmare. In front, the retreating form of The Rogue, feet pounding the ground, cloak flying out behind her as she ran.
Considering its immense size, coupled with its cumbersome and bulky shape, the snarling creature moved incredibly fast. It was all Kurt could do to stay ahead of the thing on the ground. The idea of slowing down to climb up a tree was unthinkable. He ran on all fours, yet was still hard pushed to remain ahead of those three sets of snapping jaws.
Catching up to The Rogue was easy enough; after all, she could only run on two legs. He fell in beside her, limbs going like pistons as they dodged this way and that through the trees, trying to shake off their bizarre pursuer.
"Was ist dass? I mean, what is that thing?" He panted.
"A chimera." She replied, not breaking her stride. They swerved left, and then banked a hard right around a pile of large boulders covered in lichen.
"A chimera?" Kurt repeated, struggling slightly with the Common word. "But I thought they were just a legend."
"Try telling that to *him*." She returned.
Kurt turned his head to see the trio of grotesque heads crash through the trees behind them. The dragonhead leaned forward, opening its maw. A flurry of yellowish fire bubbled in the back of its gullet, and then shot forward as a ball of burning flame. The blue-furred boy only just had time to dive forward onto the floor as it skimmed overhead, brushing the tips of his ears and causing him considerable pain as it passed - although a lot less then it would have done had it hit him. Instead it carried on past, blowing up on impact with the boulders and smothering the surrounding area with chunks of exploded rock.
Kurt picked himself up off the floor and stared around.
"Frauline?" He called. "Rogue?"
She was nowhere to be seen. Kurt remembered seeing her slightly behind him just before the fireball was fired. She'd been right in its path. Surely she hadn't....
A roar cut off his train of thought, as the chimera loomed up behind him, spittle dripping from each of its yawning mouths. Kurt emitted a strangled yelp, before turning swiftly and leaping into some nearby bushes in an effort to escape.
Kurt ran for his life. He was under no preconceptions that if the chimera caught him, it would kill him. The creature was famed for its lack of both sentience and compassion. A snarling, dumb beast devoid of speech but possessing more than its fair share of savagery. Until now he'd dismissed it as only a myth. What a way to be proved wrong, he thought grimly.
There was a crash as the chimera plunged through the undergrowth after him. Fear lent wings to his feet and hands, propelling him onward. Wildlife fled at their approach, and Kurt blew past, oblivious as to where he was or where he was going. The only thing he could think of was getting away from the disfigured creature chasing him as fast as he could.
The chimera, however, had other ideas.
It watched the retreating morsel through three sets of eyes, but saw it with only one collective consciousness. To a more judicious beast, tearing up the forest this way was pointless for such a pitiful scrap of meat. There were plenty of other, less troublesome pieces of prey around. But to the slavering chimera's smaller-than-average brain it was worth it. It didn't recognise the blue furry creature it pursued, any more than it had recognised the other one, which now seemed to have disappeared. But something buried deep inside it told it that this was a palatable delicacy, and well worth the chase for the feel of his bones crunching between its teeth, and the taste of his hot blood running down its throats. Some memory, passed down the generations from its distant ancestors, who had eaten the first humanoids over a millennia ago in the verdant forests of what was then a new world. Just the notion of tasting the same flesh, which had delighted those first monsters, was enough to drive the chimera into a frenzy. Bloodlust gave it both strength and speed, and it thundered on through the trees, heedless of the destruction it wreaked.
Kurt was tiring. He wasn't built for maintaining such high speeds for so long. His muscles ached and protested at being overworked, but still he forced them forwards.
Have to keep going. Can't stop. It'll get me if I stop.
Yet in spite of his best efforts, the chimera was gaining on him. He swerved left, disappearing through a mass of bracken, to emerge on the other side covered in spider webs and other various insects. He spat the silky threads from his mouth, and brushed them out of his golden eyes. He didn't recognise this territory at all. How was he supposed to lose that thing when he was lost himself?
He ran forward on two legs, stumbled and fell. The ground vibrated as the chimera approached, and he crawled on his hands and knees through the scrub. A hollow roar echoed across the entire Black Forest, as the hideous creature scented its prey and pushed through the bushes after it. Kurt's sensitive ears were blistered where they'd been burned, and all his joints and muscles screamed with exhaustion.
A huge tree-trunk leg appeared behind him, followed by the questing goathead. It gave a marred bleat, which sounded more like a dying squeal, as it spotted Kurt desperately crawling away. At once the other two heads appeared, drooling copiously, and eying him with greedy delight.
Kurt struggled to get to his feet, but his limbs weren't his own any more, and he stumbled. A small sharp stone drove itself into his palm, making him wince and leaving a streak of red on the ground. He bit his lip against the pain, and clenched his fist to staunch the blood.
The ground trembled as the chimera approached. The furry boy urgently scrambled away from it, trying not to put too much pressure on his injured hand. He crawled as fast as he could, but uttered a squeak of alarm as the ground beneath him very suddenly, and very unexpectedly, began to crumble away. Huge clumps of dried soil, powdery and unstable after the long hot Summer, came away under his weight, tumbling down a steep slope revealed below.
Kurt peered through a hole that had just grown in the forest floor underneath his knee. He found himself staring down into a huge quarry, long since abandoned by those who created it, and with sides worn smooth from years of weathering. The patch of ground he knelt on was actually merely an overhang where the earth beneath it had been scooped out. Kurt gazed down into the concave. It was at least a sixty-foot drop, followed by a mass of curved packed hard until it was as smooth and impenetrable as solid stone, and formed into a roughly curved shape.
An ear-splitting roar rent the air, then stopped. Kurt's heart pounded in his thin chest, and he could hear his breathing for the first time in many minutes, harsh and ragged.
What had happened? Why had the chimera fallen silent?
Tentatively, he turned his head to see behind him. The chimera was bent over something on the ground, sniffing intently at it. All three faces were focused on what they had found, and seemed completely oblivious to him. Briefly, he wondered what it was that held their attention so, but he was more concerned with taking advantage of it to escape. Carefully, and as silently as he could manage on his shaking limbs, he got to his feet, and was just about to creep away when he saw what it was that held the creature fast.
A small sharp stone, splattered in red liquid. Blood.
His blood.
The dragonhead leaned forward until its snout almost touched the ground. Slowly, and with incongruous grace, it parted its vast jaws and a red tongue covered in pulsing bumps and spikes slid out. It tasted the crimson fluid, eyes widening as the unique flavour spread across its palate. Unique and full of promise. The taste of prey-flesh.
Kurt stumbled back as, quicker than he'd thought possible, the chimera whirled round and lunged at him. He smelt the hot stink of its breath in his face, and gazed into its gaping mouths as they descended upon him like a bolt of living death.
But they never reached their mark, for at that moment the ground collapsed. Weakened by years of erosion, the overhang wasn't strong enough to withstand the combined weight of both the boy and the monster, and with a sickening crunch it gave way, leaving them to fall into the quarry below.
Down they plummeted, accompanied only by soil and debris. It was a sheer drop, and they struck the curve hard, rolling over and over, a flailing mass of fire and blue fur. Kurt tried valiantly to stay away from the thrashing chimera, but a flying hoof caught him in the chest, driving all the air from his lungs and rendering him winded and gasping in the dirt.
They eventually rolled to a halt several hundred feet away from where they'd started. Only Kurt's amazing agility had saved him from sustaining any fatal injuries, but he lay prone, unable to move for want of a little life-giving oxygen. The chimera, squealing horribly, clambered to its feet, revealing one of its huge front paws dragging limp and useless as it tried to walk. It was obviously broken, and left a groove in the powdery fallen soil.
Kurt could only watch impotently as the beast cast about it in confusion. He prayed it wouldn't see him. That the hewn rocks around would shield his body until he had enough breath to flee.
But his prayers were in vain. The lionhead's slit eyes fell upon him, and it emitted a yowling cry before starting forward, injuries forgotten in the face of devouring him. Kurt squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't move. This was it. He was going to die, torn apart by those monstrous teeth and swallowed piece by piece. In his final moments an image of his mother flashed through his mind, and all he could think of was how lonely she'd be when he didn't return from his 'adventure'.
The acrid stench of the chimera's breath filled his nostrils, and he waited for one of the mouths to clamp down around his skull, crushing it like an eggshell.
I'm sorry, mother.
"Yaaaaaaah!"
What was that?
The chimera screamed. A mind-blowing screech of pain.
"Move, elf!"
Kurt's eyelids snapped open, and he saw the chimera raised up on its hind legs, every mouth squealing in agony. Clinging precariously to it back he saw a cloaked figure, hood pulled back and hair flying as she endeavoured to keep from falling. Her sword protruded from the back of the lionhead's neck, black blood oozing around the blade.
Body baulking violently, the blue-furred boy heaved himself onto his feet, gripping a nearby rock for support. The Rogue wrenched her sword free, eliciting another anguished screech from the creature. With infallible polish she leaped from its back and hit the ground at a run.
And run she did. She blew past Kurt, grabbing his arm and pulling him along behind her. He yelled in pain, but followed her unquestioningly. She'd just saved his life after all.
The pair fled, kicking up a dust cloud with their heels from the sandstone quarry. In what seemed like no time at all, an angry roar perforated the air. The chimera was giving chase.
The Rogue chanced a glance over her shoulder. The middle head hung lifelessly between the other two, dripping pitch ooze as it cantered along. The goathead bleated, and the dragonhead opened its jaws to release another deadly fireball. The Rogue swerved left, yanking Kurt excruciatingly with her, and resumed looking ahead.
Further on she could see the edge of the quarry walls. Vertical, and sharply cut. She aimed for them, hoping there was some kind of shelter beyond. They couldn't last much longer this way. A more permanent solution was called for, although she had no idea as to what this might be at present. Just get to the wall, her almost-conscience told her. Think about this after.
They sprinted for their lives, dodging fireballs and trying to stay ahead of the injured and maddened beast. The Rogue knew her blow wouldn't have killed that thing. As long as even one of the three heads remained then it would survive. To tell the truth, she'd been surprised that her sword had pierced its hide. Perhaps the legends weren't completely accurate after all and it *was* possible to slay a chimera by mortal means.
Only a few feet left now. Run, run! Faster, faster! The elf's panting sounded loudly in her ears, and her own heart thundered against her ribcage. Five feet. Four. Three. Two. One. They rounded the bend to see....
A house.
She almost faltered. But no, it really *was* a house. Out here in the middle of nowhere, and clearly inhabited by someone. As they neared it she could see a figure standing outside, digging in some kind of vegetable patch. The person looked up at their approach, eyes widening at the duo rushing towards him or her.
The Rogue didn't even have time to shout out a warning before a fireball exploded at her feet, sending both she and the elf flying into the air to land in a heap several metres away. She kicked violently at him to get off her, her foot connecting solidly with the palm of his hand. A shower of crimson droplets sprayed over her boot, staining the sparse grass beneath them an ugly colour. But The Rogue broke free of him regardless, only to see the chimera hove into view around the side of the quarry wall.
It lumbered forward, two of the three faces screaming. The girl felt her blood run cold, and roughly dragged the elf to his feet before turning and running again. There was nowhere to go except past that curious house or back to the quarry. She sped on, mouth set in a grim line. She wouldn't let herself be killed by some fairytale-reject.
The figure outside the house dropped its spade, hands flying to its mouth in a silent scream. As they neared, The Rogue could see that it was a girl, slightly younger then herself, and wearing typical female peasant clothing of undyed woollen skirts and a smudgy pinafore.
The Rogue yelled, "Run!" but the girl was already running.... back into the house! If she'd had time, The Rogue would have rolled her eyes in disgust at this cowardly and stupid action. That girl was going to be cornered, for the chimera had seen her go into the dwelling. Of all the idiotic....
A hacking roar interrupted her train of thought. The chimera could see its prey escaping, and this, coupled with the intense pain from its fallen head, injected a new burst of speed into its stride. It leaped for them, flying through the air with claws outstretched.
They were nearly at the house. The Rogue gripped the elf by the scruff of his neck and forcefully dove aside. The howling chimera sailed on overhead, missing them completely and instead striking the side of the crude building. There was a crash, followed by a humanoid scream. Female. That girl. The Rogue lifted her head. The chimera had smashed down part of the wall, exposing the innards of the house and its screaming occupant. The girl retreated further inside the building, but the chimera - deprived of its initial prey - forced its way after her, breaking beams and wooden floorboards as it progressed.
Kurt heard the scream through a fuggy haze. It sounded familiar somehow, like the voice of someone he knew. It was distorted slightly by the haze clogging his brain, but his subconscious made the connection where his conscious could not. Images of blue skin and the heavy smell of incense permeated him, and he raised his head to see a feminine figure retreat into a half-destroyed wooden house, chased by the snarling chimera.
Without really thinking what he was doing, Kurt scrambled to his aching feet and stumbled forwards. He heard a voice calling him back, but paid it no heed, not stopping until he was at the gaping hole into the building. The chimera's rear end poked out of the hole, lion's tail lashing. It's considerable bulk almost completely filled the aperture, but there was a small opening between its legs where the useless forepaw hung freely. Kurt crouched onto all fours and crawled through this, rolling aside to avoid the two sets of snapping jaws beyond.
He was in a smallish room, made smaller by the growling chimera. It stood halfway into the room, edging towards where a small figure crouched against the opposite wall. He dashed across to where this figure sat, knees clasped against its chest and forehead pressed against its knees, trembling with fear. It was female alright, but something was wrong. This wasn't the blue-skinned one he sought. She was different. Alien.
He reached her side, and her head abruptly jerked up. Kurt stared into two grey-green eyes set in ivory skin, cheeks stained with dirt and tears. She gazed back at him, horror etched into her pretty features. Before he could stop her she was crawling away on her backside, screaming afresh.
"No! Keep away from me, you monster!"
Monster? Him? Kurt blinked, nonplussed. Why was she scared of him?
The girl stared at him, wide-eyed, face filled with unbridled terror. Kurt looked at her, and was suddenly overcome by an inexorable need to comfort and protect. So what if this one wasn't the blue-skinned one he was searching for? She still needed help. He reached out, but she scudded further away.
The goathead gave a bleat as it pounced, stretching its neck as far as it could go. Its dripping fangs came within mere inches of the girl's back, but Kurt too dived forward, wrenching her out of reach. He clasped her body to his own and shrank back against the wall, feeling her shaking. One sentient thought immediately sliced through the mist clouding his brain.
Run!
But run where?
The chimera was getting closer. There was nowhere to go. It blocked his way. There was no escape. Saliva blew into his furry face as the dragonhead opened its maw. He could see the telltale glow starting at the back of its throat. Flames began to flicker into its gullet, gathering into a small ball, then growing larger. Have to get away, but where to go? No way out. Trapped. Fire getting bigger. Must escape. Have to save the girl. Have to....
The dragonhead suddenly snapped shut with a hollow clack, effectively shutting in the burning flames. Its eyes bulged, but its mouth remained closed. It was almost as if it *couldn't* open it. Kurt's gaze was caught by a brilliant burst of silver beneath.
The Rogue stood, knife clasped above her in both gloved hands, impaling the head through the soft flesh just behind the chin. Black blood ran liberally down the vertical blade, and she pulled it partially free, releasing a veritable waterfall of the dark liquid. Some of it splashed her face, leaving a trail of sticky fluid. She grunted; the knife was stuck fast. The dragonhead swung back and forth in pain, wrenching it from her grasp. She'd have to leave it. She glared at Kurt and the girl still fastened protectively to his chest. Her expression was still infuriatingly indifferent, and she called above the tormented squeals of the dragonhead.
"Move your ass, fuzzy!"
With that, she threw herself between its legs and rolled back into the outside world.
The dragonhead's lips dripped yellow flames. The fireball had grown too much to be reabsorbed, and it pushed against the living barrier imprisoning it.
Kurt cast about for an escape route. He couldn't follow The Rogue because that would have meant passing the chimera, but there didn't seem to be any other way out. The girl in his arms raised her streaked face and looked at the dragonhead, whose jaws were now being visibly forced apart by the fireball, which glowed hot yellow between its teeth. Her eyes took on the appearance of two round moons.
"Look out! It's gonna blow!"
She pushed forward, slamming him against the wooden wall. Kurt was surprised at the unexpected move, but even more so at what happened next. An intense feeling of nothingness enveloped him, as if his spirit had been removed from his body and now floated free. The wall behind him began to fade. It was nothing but shadow - no, it was less than shadow. It was made of little more than air. He literally melted through it, emerging on the other side to land on his tail with a bump.
The girl released him, and his senses returned in a dizzying swirl. Yet he had little time to reacquaint himself with them, as she picked herself up and bounded away, yelling loudly.
"Run! The tank's gonna go sky high any second!"
Tank? What tank? What was she talking about? And what just happened? But he took her advice anyway, struggling to his pained feet and fleeing as fast as his two legs could take him. For a short time he attempted to run on four legs, but the agony from his hand was too much to bear, and he reverted to running like a two-legger.
A colossal explosion rocked the countryside. A single, huge funnel of fire filled the skyline, blasting up as far as the naked eye could see and causing a gale force wind that floored everything it touched. Kurt and the girl were blown from their feet; noses ploughing into the dust as their hair and fur were whipped into a fury by the pummelling airstream. Burning air washed over them, and pieces of miniscule debris hurtled from the sky to bury themselves in the earth with a hiss.
When it was all over Kurt raised his face. The chimera was gone, as was the house. In their place stood a huge blackened crater, still smoking. Everywhere was enveloped by an evil-smelling thick mist, and he coughed as it filtered into his lungs. Silence reigned supreme; the only sound being his own raggedy breathing.
No, wait. There was another sound. And movement. He heard someone groan close by, and turned to look at them.
The strange girl sat up, rubbing the back of her head. Kurt could see that part of her brown hair had been singed off there, and the skin had turned an angry red. The rest of her hair wafted wispily about her face, loose and unkempt to her shoulders. She opened her eyes, peering at the crater with a mixture of disbelief and anger.
"My house!" She shouted. "My *house*! You destroyed my house!"
"Wie bitte?"
"You filthy demon, with your filthy demon friends! You burned down my house!"
"I think you'll find it was the chimera that totalled your house." The voice arrived even before The Rogue peeled herself out of the ash-mist. "And *he* tried to save you from it - fool that he is. A little more gratitude wouldn't go amiss."
"Gratitude?" The girl screeched, incensed. "Gratitude? You mean I should be grateful you two burned down my home?"
"It didn't burn down, it blew up." The Rogue sniffed. "If you're gonna accuse then at least do it right."
"Why you - " The girl scrabbled to an upright position and took a step towards the shrouded figure. At once The Rogue's sword - still stained with rapidly crystallizing black blood - snaked out from beneath the cloak and was at her throat.
"Take one more step and I'll cut out your vocal chords." She said with chilling calmness.
The girl visibly gulped, eying the keen blade. "Who are you people?"
"None of your business, shrimp."
"Frauline, bitte. Let me talk with her." Kurt hauled himself up, swaying slightly and pausing a moment to let his head stop spinning. When he was certain the ground wouldn't give way under him he stepped forward. The girl glared at him, but there was fear in her gaze as well. It was patently clear that had The Rogue's sword not been millimetres away from her jugular she would have fled. Kurt wondered why she seemed so scared of him. After all, he wasn't the one threatening to slit her throat, and he'd tried to rescue her from the chimera.
He reached out a tentative hand - the uninjured one - in a gesture of friendship. She perceptibly flinched.
Realization of the reason for her demeanour struck him like a stampeding bull.
His appearance.
Even Kurt had to admit that upon first sight he wasn't exactly the most non-threatening looking of people. Well, he'd just have to *make* her understand that he meant her no harm.
He dropped the hand to his side. "Are you afraid of me, Frauline?"
She seemed surprised at his question, and didn't answer until The Rogue moved her sword a fraction as incentive, whereupon she muttered sulkily. "Yes."
"Do you think of me as an evil demon?"
Another sulky mutter. "Yes."
"Have you ever met a demon before?"
"Well.... no."
"Then how can you be sure that I am one, or that all demons are evil?"
Silence.
"Well?" The Rogue snapped.
"I.... I guess I can't." The girl mumbled grudgingly.
"Do I *seem* dangerous to you?"
She looked at him then. I mean, really *looked* at him. That searching stare he'd experienced very few times in his life. Like someone was looking straight through him, through the fur and fangs and odd-shaped limbs to what lay beneath. Into his soul. He held stock still, afraid that if he moved he'd break her concentration and the outer shell would get in the way once more, and she'd judge him for *what* he appeared to be instead of *who* he was.
Her eyes flickered back and forth, The Rogue noted. Odd, considering the elf was standing stock-still. Just what was this girl seeing the she couldn't?
The girl's eyes floated up to his azure face and focused on his golden eyes. Kurt had once heard someone say that eyes are the windows into the soul, and - if possible - he froze even more, holding her gaze like a person transfixed.
Eventually she stopped staring. "No. You *look* dangerous, but.... but.... I dunno. Somehow you don't *seem* it."
Kurt smiled, revealing sharp white teeth. To his surprise and pleasure, she didn't react to them. There was still choler in her gaze at the loss of her home, but the hatred and fear he'd seen before were fading fast. At least, regarding him. The Rogue, however, was a different matter. It's difficult to think of someone as not dangerous when they're blatantly trying to make you believe that they are. *Especially* when they're doing it with a sword.
"Bitte, Frauline. Put away your weapon. Sie ist unarmed. Ich denke sie doesn't pose a threat."
"I'll be the judge of that, elf." The Rogue replied icily, but dropped the blade tip from the girl's throat. She stayed for only a moment more before sauntering away to clean the discoloured metal on a patch of meagre grass.
The girl let out a relieved sigh. "Thanks."
"Think nothing of it. Just be careful around her, she's.... volatile."
"I'd noticed."
Kurt glanced over at the crater again, and opened his mouth to ask how a simple fireball could cause so much destruction. But as he did so, a sudden wave of nausea washed over him. He abruptly became acutely aware of the pain in his hand, and clenched a fist to try and relieve it a little. It didn't help.
The girl looked taken aback by the expression of pure agony that crossed his visage. She switched her gaze to where his tri-fingered hand had balled into a fist so tight it was shaking.
"You're hurt." She surmised. "Here, let me take a look at that."
At first he refused, and took a step backwards, but that only made the world spin. She gripped his hand and gently uncurled his fingers. Somehow, it felt good to be touched where it hurt, but at the same time a concentrated agony coursed through him like none he'd ever felt before. Surely all this pain couldn't just be coming from a cut on his hand? He felt dizzy, and fought to stay on his feet.
The girl gawked at the furry boy's wound. A diagonal slash ran across his palm, originating from a deep circular puncture just below what could be considered his thumb. Blood leaked copiously from it, staining his fur crimson and dripping onto the ground with faint 'splats'. There was dirt in there, and several large pieces of grit and small pebbles. On instinct she gripped the biggest one - which seemed rather to be a fragment broken from some other bigger stone - between her thumb and forefinger and pulled. It resisted, but then slid out easily. She tossed it to the floor and then transferred her gaze back to his eyes.
"Ach, much better." He murmured, before his legs gave way and he fell to his knees. The world was fading again. Vague utterances slithered into his ears like wraiths of a dream.
"Hey, help! Your friend's fainted!"
"Not mah friend. Not mah problem."
Twittering moths. He was leaving their coveted light behind. His body keeled over of it own accord, striking the baked earth with a muted thump. So tired. So very, very tired.
Then, there was only darkness.
*******************
Kurt swam back to consciousness to find he was lying on his back. That much he could tell with eyes still closed, plus his heightened senses - though still groggy and not quite up to scratch - told him another person was nearby. He could hear whomever it was breathing, and a chill wind ruffled his fur, also informing him that it was night and he was outside.
He opened his eyes and stared into the sky. Murky blue, but not quite nighttime yet. More like late evening. He was getting slow. He should have been able to tell the difference.
He rolled over onto his side, but a piercing pain lanced through his hand as he tried to lever himself up, and he rolled back again. A scuffling started up somewhere near his head at this movement, and a pale face with greenish-blue eyes hove into view above him. It was the girl whose house had been destroyed, and she wore a look of worried concern as she stared down from kneeling over him.
"Hey. You awake?"
Kurt's mouth was incredibly dry, but he whispered an answer nonetheless.
"Nein. I always sleep mit mein eyes open."
The girl seemed perplexed for a moment, and then a small smile creased her face.
"Can you, like, sit up?"
"I think so, but I'll need a little help."
She nodded, and extended her own hand to grasp his arm and haul him into a sitting position. Kurt perceived she was painfully thin, not so much as to be skeletal, but pretty damn close. Also, he noted that her flesh was warm and soft, and most definitely solid. The pleasure he felt at having someone voluntarily touch him was tinted by confusion as to how she could be so *solid*.
"Danke."
"S'alright." She replied.
Kurt eyed her warily. "You still mad?"
She sighed, a resigned, acquiescent exhalation of breath, and averted her gaze to the floor. "A bit. But not so much as before. Getting mad at you won't bring my house back and will probably, like, shorten my life anyway."
"You don't seem so scared of me anymore."
"Don't fool yourself, I'm still scared. But, like I said, just not so much as before. After all, you did try to save me from that.... that thing."
"Chimera." Kurt supplied.
"Uh-huh. It's weird, because they never usually come so close to human habitation. They generally live deeper in the Black Forest than this. In herds too. It's kinda strange to see one on its own."
"Ach, ja? Unglaublich."
The girl's eyes slid over to him. "OK, you're gonna have to help me out on that one, since I speak like, zilch Germanic."
Kurt blinked. "But you live in the Black Forest. How can you not speak Germanic? We're in Germania."
"Yeah, but I only ever spoke Common when I was growing up."
"Oh." Kurt licked his dry lips. "Well, I said 'Really? Unbelievable.' I personally thought that chimera were only a legend."
"Boy, do you have a lot to learn. There are so many creatures like that out there I, like, don't even know the names to like, half of them."
"Oh." That titbit of information was not something he particularly wanted to hear right now. He could think of several monsters just off the top of his head he would never, ever want to meet, and had thus far taken solace from the fact that they were only the stuff of myth and imagination. Now it seemed that illusion had been most spectacularly shattered.
"Do you have a name?"
The question caught him off guard. "A name? Me?"
"Yeah. A name. It's not that difficult a question, is it?"
"Nein, nein. Mein name ist Kurt."
"Kurt." She repeated, turning it over on her tongue. "I'm Kitty. Kitty Pryde."
"Nice to meet you." Kurt held out his hand to shake hers, and abruptly noticed a length of swarthy material wrapped around it, slightly stained with blood. He stared at it, and then looked at her.
"You?"
She nodded. "I dunno if I like, did it right or anything. But you were bleeding like, everywhere. I had to do something."
"It feels good."
"I cleaned it out first. That's what my Mom always used to do when I cut myself."
Kurt flexed his fingers, and then winced. The pain was still excruciating when he moved the wound, and only faded to a dull ache when he keep his palm fixed in one position. His golden eyes fell upon Kitty's pinafore. The fabric was identical to that wrapped around his hand, and ragged at the bottom, as if she'd torn strips off. He raised his gaze to her face. Her hair was tied back now, covering the ugly bald patch on the crown of her skull, and held by another shred of smudgy material.
"Used to do?"
"My parents like, both died last year from Shaking Sickness. I never had any like, brothers or sisters." Sadness clouded her eyes.
"I'm sorry."
"S'alright. I can deal." She had a curious form of speech, which was punctured every now and then by strange use of the word 'like'. Kurt found it erratic and sometimes quite difficult to understand what she was saying. He found himself wishing her accent were a little easier to interpret, like The Rogue's. At once, a sudden thought struck him, and he stared about at the near-barren patch of land.
"Where is Der Schurke?" He asked momentarily forgetting Kitty couldn't understand Germanic.
Kitty, however, guessed whom he was referring to, though she didn't comprehend the title. "Who? That girl? She left."
"Left?"
"Uh-huh. Didn't like, say a word either. Just like, got up and walked away into the forest." She indicated to a band of trees beyond the crater where her house had once stood. Another part of the Black Forest, beyond the land of the disused quarry. "She didn't seem like, concerned about you or anything. And you were practically dead on the floor."
A wry grin split Kurt's furry face. "I'm not exactly a welcome travelling companion. In fact, I probably should've guessed she'd leave the moment I was out of it. Perfect opportunity to get away from me."
"Nice." Kitty expostulated. "Why would she like, wanna do that?"
"Because he's an annoying little blue furball with a big mouth."
"Frauline?" Kurt couldn't believe it, and for a moment thought he was hallucinating. But no, it *was* The Rogue. Stalking towards them from the closely-knit mass of trees. Her hood was up, and her cloak swirled about making her visually unidentifiable, but there was no mistaking that voice. Harsh, yet lilting, and undeniably southern.
She approached them quickly. The fact that she was standing whilst they sat gave her an intimidating air - just the way she liked it. Her face was totally hidden by the shadows cast by her hood. Kurt heard a 'snikt' of metal, and fell backwards as her sword suddenly lanced out from beneath the shroud towards him. Kitty gave a small squeal, and the pair of them both scuttled away on their behinds. Kurt was the first to stop. His keen night-vision had allowed him to see that The Rogue was holding her weapon in an almost flaccid grip, and there was something speared on the tip. A plant. The imposing figure took a step forward to him and thrust the greenery into his lap.
"Here. Take this." Was the brusque order. Kurt daintily picked the limp plant up in his undamaged fingers. It was a weed of some description, with a head of many tiny red flowers. As he moved it, powdery yellow pollen dusted his dark fur.
"Don't waste it." The Rogue snapped. "It's Bellock."
"Bellock?" Kitty crawled forward on her hands and knees. "Isn't that like, a painkiller?"
"Sharp aren't you?" The other girl retorted.
"What am I supposed to do with it?" Kurt asked. The Rogue rolled her eyes.
"You put the pollen on a wound." Kitty replied for her. "It helps with the pain and like, stops infections."
"Ja? Danke, Frauline." Kurt said gratefully, pulling at his makeshift bandage.
"Here, let me help you with that." Kitty offered, taking his hand gently in hers. "I wrapped it pretty tight, and you might like, hurt yourself more if you tug at it."
The Rogue stood over them, body language unreadable, even to Kurt. "So what did you do to yourself, elf?"
"Hey, he has a name you know." Kitty said almost angrily. "It's Kurt."
"Like I care? He's still just a stupid elf to me."
Kitty glared. She seriously didn't like this girl's attitude. Who did she think she was? Manners, her mother had told her often enough, didn't cast a penny, but were worth more than gold.
"Ich bin hingefallen und habe mir weh getan." Kurt explained, wincing slightly as the blood soaked strips were peeled away. He wasn't bleeding anymore, but the old blood had crystallized, sticking the fabric to his fur and pulling it out by the roots when Kitty detached it.
"Trust you." The Rogue growled. Kitty glanced up at her.
"Wait a minute, you can like, understand him? But you're not from Germania. You're accent's from the Southern Realms."
"You don't have to be from a country to speak the language, shrimp." The Rogue spat, before turning and walking a few paces away from the pair and hunkering down to sit cross-legged with her back to them on the blackened ground. "I had to speak lots of different languages in mah old job."
"And what exactly was your job?"
Silence.
"Hey, I'm talking to you!"
"Shhh." Kurt grasped her wrist urgently. "Please, don't anger her. She can be very dangerous when angered."
"So can I." Kitty muttered. "Just who exactly does she think she is, anyway?"
Kurt's voice fell to a low whisper, and he glanced conspiratally around before speaking. "She's The Rogue of The Guild of Assassins."
Kitty's eyes abruptly widened in disbelief. "Really? Her?" She turned to stare at the figure sitting in the gathering darkness. "But I thought The Rogue was a man."
Kurt shook his head. "It's true, The Guild of Assassins is made up of mostly males and it's very rare for them to include a female in their ranks, but she *is* The Rogue."
"Wow." Kitty breathed at the presence of the unorthodox and rather frightening celebrity in their midst. "I mean like, wow!"
"I know. Ow!"
"Sorry! Sorry! Wasn't concentrating. It's just so like, wow! Did I hurt you?" She peered closely at his torn flesh, where a thin driblet of crimson had appeared from under a reopened scab.
"Not much." Kurt gritted. "It's probably better this way. Now I can get the pollen into my blood properly." He reached for the plant, which was lying on the ground by his foot.
"Oh no you don't." Kitty snatched it up and waggled a finger at him. "*I'll* do it. I know what I'm doing." She proceeded to systematically disconnect each red flower and carefully empty the contents over Kurt's leaking wound. Gradually, his palm became covered in the powdery substance, creating the effect that he had mottled blue and yellow fur.
"Hey, I've changed colour. Like the new look?"
"Either that or you've got one heck of a skin condition." Kitty giggled. Kurt smiled. At least she didn't seem to be fretting about her house anymore. Her laughter sounded nice. He didn't usually hear laughter at home. His mother was so serious, and when she *was* amused, she'd only ever smile. She never, ever laughed, let alone giggled.
"Frech." He grinned.
"Will you two pipe down!" The Rogue snarled, not facing them.
"Are you trying to sleep?" Kitty asked, with more than a little fear in her tone now she'd learned the identity of the girl and her terrible reputation.
Everyone in the land knew of The Rogue of The Guild of Assassins. Many rumours abounded about this secretive individual. Some said The Rogue feasted solely on human flesh, others said that The Rogue was the only outcast from the Guild ever to remain alive, and there were some that said The Rogue was really a demon in disguise, who stole children from their beds and offered them up as sacrifices to the Lady Moon in the dead of night. Since the Guild of Assassins was so secretive anyway, nobody knew whether these rumours held any grain of truth. Some even went so far as to say that The Rogue was only a myth. A story made up by idle housewives and mothers to scare their children into going to bed.
How wrong they are, Kitty thought to herself. If only they could see her now. Who would have believed The Rogue would be like, female? She doesn't look much older than me either. I wonder if any of those stories about her *are* true? No, wait, I don't think I wanna like, know if they are.
"No, I'm not tryin' to sleep. I'd never be so stupid as to sleep out in the open like this."
"Why's that?"
"No cover. It's too easy to surround and trap prey in."
"Prey?" Kitty mentally gulped. Even her diction was predatory. Savage. That of a hunter.
How strange that she should be more scared of a human than of the fuzzy blue elf sitting beside her. Yet, there was something about Kurt. His entire bearing was non-threatening, as if he'd spent a considerable amount of time perfecting how to make people feel comfortable in his decidedly odd presence. It was soothing, in an unconventional kind of way.
"Miss Kitty? May I ask you a question?"
Now it was her turn to be caught off guard. Kitty verbally fumbled for a moment, then regained her composure enough to speak. "Yeah, sure. Fire away, Kurt. But don't call me 'Miss Kitty', would ya? Just Kitty will do."
"Um, OK. Well.... this may seem kind of weird, but.... um...."
"Come on, spit it out."
"Um.... was there anything, uh.... Special, about your house?"
Her face adopted a confused expression, tilted to one side with a single eyebrow raised. "How do you mean?"
"I mean, like people being able to fall *through* the walls, and the fact that it blew *up* instead of burning *down*?"
Her expression quickly switched to one of discomfiture. "Well, you see that's kinda an embarrassing subject. Um.... you see, there was this tank below the house."
"'Tank'? What's a 'tank'?"
"It's like a big metal container. And in this one, there were some gases which were highly flammable."
"Flammable?"
"Yeah. Like, one spark equals big boom, OK? Put it this way, when my Dad was alive, he wasn't even allowed to smoke his favourite pipe inside the house because of it. It was like, right below the floorboards."
"How come you kept it there?" Kurt was interested. What could possibly be kept in a big metal container beneath a whole house? Having had little exposure to the world, he imagined a large jewellery box rather like his mother's buried under people's very feet, and marvelled at the oddness of the concept.
"It was like, more convenient. Although my Mom always said it wasn't really sanitary. She was a stickler for germs and stuff." Kitty squirmed slightly, trying to skirt tactfully around the topic, hoping Kurt wouldn't ask that one question she was too embarrassed to answer straight out.
Too late.
"What was in this tank?" Kurt asked innocently.
There it was! How the heck was she supposed to like, avoid something that frank? Kitty fidgeted profusely, redirecting her eyes to the ground and muttering something akin to a whisper.
"Excuse me?" Kurt's blue face was a picture of ingenuousness. "What did you say?"
She mumbled again, and he leaned in closer, having to strain even *his* sensitive ears to make out what she was saying.
"Sewaher."
"Sewaher? What's that, Frauline?"
Kitty sighed, resigned to her embarrassing fate. Why couldn't her parents have piped it somewhere else. Like, *not* right under the house, at least!
"I said.... sewage."
"Sewage? You mean like....?"
She nodded. "Uh-huh. Totally icksome, huh?"
Kurt blinked once, and then fell backwards holding his sides, laughter roaring from his gullet in an insurmountable wave. "Nein! Es ist urkomisch! Hilarious!"
Kitty stared, gob smacked. Then a small smile played about her lips too. "I guess it could be seen as funny."
"Could be? Frauline, that's the funniest thing I've ever heard in my entire life! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!" He trailed off into uncontrollable sobs of mirth. "You were living....ha ha ha ha .... You were living on top of .... Ha ha ha ha! Schiesse!"
Kitty giggled, seeing the funny side at last. "Yup. Not so good on hot days."
"Eew!" Kurt expostulated, still wracked with hilarity. "Too much information!"
He carried on this way for several more seconds, on his back, feet kicking and tail lashing as her fought to bring his breathing under control. Suddenly, he was shocked back into mock-gravity by a steel sword point burying itself in the ground by his head. The laughter gurgled in his throat as he looked up and saw The Rogue standing over him, her face impassive but her dark eyes thunderous.
"Are you gonna shut up, or am I gonna cut your tongue out?" She hissed.
Kurt hiccupped, stifling a few errant giggles and attempting - but failing - to drive all thoughts of the Pryde's exploding septic tank from his mind. "Shutting up." He managed to choke out, holding up his hand in a gesture of peace. The Rogue glared at him. Her expression was enough to quell any leftover chuckles before they had chance to rise to the surface, and Kurt fell silent under her stony gaze.
"That's better. You make way too much noise, elf."
"I'm sorry, Frauline." He apologised, pushing himself up with one hand, and then gripping it in pain. "Yowch!"
"Here, let me help. I never finished wrapping it properly." Kitty murmured, anxious not to incur The Rogue's wrath by speaking too loudly. She busied herself with the scruffy bandages, avoiding the older girl's harsh stare.
For her part, The Rogue turned and sat down in her previous position a few feet away, completely unconcerned with kitty's feverish movements. Yet she didn't rest, even for a second. Her eyes constantly scanned the terrain, looking for signs of approaching danger. Her intense training wouldn't let her rest, and her keen senses stayed relentlessly on the alert.
Conversation wasn't her thing. She preferred silence. It allowed her to collect and examine her thoughts. But she let the idle, whispered chatter of the two younger adolescents slide past her ears, keeping half of her senses focused on the area around them, the other half strangely intrigued by their talk.
"So, getting back to my original question - "
"Yeah. Well, I have to tell you, Kurt. When you fell through the wall? Well, it wasn't the house. That was me."
"You?" Kurt stared, baffled. "But, how is that possible?"
"I dunno." Kitty shrugged her thin shoulders, and Kurt noticed how her collarbones stuck out horribly when she did so.
~Poor little thing.~ He thought kindly, temporarily sidetracked. ~All alone up here. She probably hasn't had anything substantial to eat in a while, judging by the look of her. This ground must not be too fertile, and I don't remember seeing any animals about. Not that they'd still be alive after a blast like that. Poor little Kätzchen.~
The nickname popped into his head uncalled for, but he turned it over in his mind, trying it out. Kätzchen. Yes, that was a good name for her. She wasn't big enough to be a real cat, but a kitten was a different matter.
"Hey, are you even listening to me?" Kitty waved a hand in front of his face.
"Huh? Wha-? Yes! Sorry, yes I'm listening. Go on." Kurt blushed beneath his fur at his inattention.
"Well, like I was *saying*, I don't know like, how I can do it. I literally just woke up one morning to find I could like, pass through solid objects."
"How'd you find out?"
"Let's just say, I started off in my bed in the attic, and ended up on the kitchen floor - without having to use the stairs."
"Oh." There didn't seem to be anything else to say to a statement like that. "Doesn't it worry you?"
"Not really. I mean, it did at first, but that was a couple of months ago, and it hasn't like, affected my heath or anything. Although I have to say, up until today I couldn't like, take anybody with me. It was like, total surprise-ville when you went through the wall too. Not that I'm complaining." She smiled, and Kurt blushed again. "I can't really control it. It kinda happens at random. When I'm, like, stressed out and stuff."
"Ya'll are very trusting aren't you?" The Rogue's unexpected voice floated over. Kitty perceptibly jerked, not knowing how to react, and apprehensive of offending the hazardous-of-temperament girl. It was more of a declaration than a question, but something told her the speaker required an answer nonetheless.
Kitty swallowed. "Of course. What's a person without trust?"
"Smart." Came the whip-crack reply. "In this world you shouldn't trust anyone if you wanna stay alive. Hey, elf?"
"Ja?" He was getting used to the epithet now, though he still didn't particularly like it. It beat 'demon' though, or having his gizzard carved out for arguing.
"Do you trust me? And be honest. I'll know if you're lying."
"Well.... perhaps not per se - "
"You see?" She sounded almost triumphant. "Trust is a weakness. It makes you vulnerable. The only reason he's stayed alive so far is because he *doesn't* trust me."
Something twinged in the back of Kurt's mind at this statement, but his attention was caught when Kitty dared to ask another question, and the suspicious niggling was momentarily forgotten.
"Haven't you ever trusted anyone?"
"I prefer to rely on myself. That way, nobody can betray mah trust or let me down."
Was it his imagination, or did The Rogue sound a little *too* vehement? Her back was still facing them, but Kurt wagered her expression was unmoved. Since she was sitting immobile, he couldn't read her body language very well, although he wondered if it was his tired mind playing tricks on him, or whether her shoulders had slumped a tad when she said 'betray my trust'?
Kitty elected to risk another question. However, this one wasn't so well received. "But surely - "
"Drop it, shrimp, before I burn the rest of your hair off. I said I never trusted no-one, so I never trusted no-one, OK?"
Kurt would have called it quits at this point - having been almost skewered on The Rogue's sword several times, he knew the limitations of her patience - but it appeared Kitty didn't have his innate sense of when to stop.
"Is that a Guild thing? Aren't you allowed to trust anyone when you're an assassin? Is that it? Huh?"
At once, quicker than the eye could discern, and ostensibly faster than the wind itself could blow, The Rogue had whirled round, leapt to her feet, crossed the space between her and the younger girl, throwing her to the hard-packed ground, and had a dagger pressed to her gulping throat, all in the same incongruously elegant, fluid movement. To see such grace juxtaposed with such savagery would have been an awesome sight, if it weren't for the life about to end on the blade gripped in her hand.
"Listen to me carefully." The hooded girl gritted. "Because I'm only gonna say this once."
"Frauline, please." Kurt pleaded. He wasn't bold enough to grab her arm, and knew that even if he had, he probably would have been disembowelled the moment he touched her.
The Rogue either didn't hear him, or deliberately ignored his cries. She bent closer, all but growling in Kitty's scared face. "Haven't you ever wondered *why* I'm called 'The Rogue'? I'll tell you why. If an assassin fails to complete a mission, for whatever reason, then that assassin becomes the next target. They're outcast. Shunned and hunted by the Guild. By their own kind. They're dirt. Nothing. Less than nothing, even. Not even worthy of the name they were given at birth. They run, nameless, until the Guild tracks them down and eliminates them. Either that, or they kill themselves in shame. Too humiliated to stay in the world in which they failed, they choose the cowards' way out and take their own lives. Bleeding to death on their own sword, or else hanging from some remote tree in the middle of nowhere for the crows to pick at.
"You may wonder why I'm telling you all this. I'm telling you to make you understand. I'm called The Rogue because I'm no longer worthy of mah own name. Yet I won't submit to them. I won't go quietly, like a lamb to slaughter. Instead, I choose to fight. I choose to live. I feel no disgrace, and no shame for fleeing from them. That's why I'm *The* Rogue. I'm the only one who ever had the guts to keep going. And I'm gonna keep going until I'm good and ready to stop. But I'm not an assassin anymore. You got that, shrimp? I choose not to trust of my own free will, not because of what I used to be. Not because of what *they* implanted in my mind." She spat the words, flecks of spittle flying into Kitty's terrified face. The smaller adolescent cringed, her visage blanched and wan.
Kurt watched with powerless concern. The Rogue looked so.... so.... he didn't know what it was. Something played about her voice and movements. Something she'd schooled her face not to show. He thought he could detect hurt. Deep-rooted and unequivocal. It was so incongruous he almost lost his words altogether as he wondered what had caused it. What had been said that elicited such hurt?
However, his primary concern was for Kitty, who lay, gasping and weaponless, totally at The Rogue's mercy. The blade slid closer to her neck, and she squeaked in fear. The sound was only small, but it cleaved through Kurt like an arrow. The blade continued its fractional descent, and it seemed The Rogue had lost whatever shreds of mercy remained within her and had decided upon just killing the impertinent girl. Kurt searched desperately for something to say, something he could do to cease its movement.
It came to him in a flash, and he threw into the air the first words that entered his mind.
"Why did you rescue me?"
The dagger stopped. "What did you say?"
"I said," Kurt gulped self-consciously. "Why did you rescue me, Frauline?"
"I didn't."
"Yes.... You did. Twice. You saved me from the chimera. In.... in the quarry, and again in the house."
Silence. No answer. Kurt swallowed nervously. Curse him and his big mouth, now she was probably mad at him too. Just sit still, he told himself. But be ready to run if she snaps.
The Rogue remained immobile. She could have been a statue, for all she moved. Her dagger remained where it was, unwavering. The entire scene became imbued with a certain unreality. A dream-like quality wrought by the furry boy's frantic words.
Why *had* she saved him?
The question whirled in The Rogue's head, buzzing like an angry wasp. Why *had* she saved his life? Especially after she'd been so close to taking it herself earlier. She still remembered the temptation to slit his throat. To draw the steel blade through his fur and let his lifeblood flow free. Her senses tingled at the memory, appealing to her hunter's instincts and tugging at her mind with phantom fingers. You have a victim now, they whispered softly. You can wreak what you lost with him upon her instead. Come on, do it. Do it. One swift cut. A splash of red. Then it'll all be over. For her.
Yet despite these alluring whispers, The Rogue felt torn, and couldn't bring herself to perform the final blow. It wasn't the weakness of mercy by any means, but something else.
Bewilderment.
Bewilderment at her own actions. Emotions she wasn't used to. Incomprehension. Confusion. Perplexity. She'd always prided herself on her clear mind. On knowing herself implacably. All faults, all failings were laid bare to her judicious brain before they had chance to develop into anything more serious. It was how she'd succeeded on missions where so many others had failed, and how she'd survived and kept going when driven from The Guild in disgrace.
So why then couldn't she answer his question? Why was her mind a blank? She'd performed the deeds. She should know the motives behind them. Shouldn't she?
Shouldn't she?
But she didn't. For probably the first time in her one-time illustrious career, The Rogue was at a loss to explain own actions. She remembered everything with crystal clarity. How she'd been caught by a chunk of exploded rock whilst fleeing, and awoken minutes later to discover both elf and chimera gone. She recalled running, following their trail until she came upon them at the quarry. She remembered careering down the slope and leaping onto the beast's back to drive her sword home into its flesh before it pounced on him and ripped him to shreds. But she didn't remember why she'd done it. She'd been the one who initiated fleeing from it, so why had she chosen *that* particular moment to attack? Likewise, she could see in her mind's-eye how she'd run after the elf's injured form into the shrimp's house to encounter the chimera a second time. Everything played out again in her head, a rich tapestry of past colour and movement, yet with no underlying substance. No drive. No.... *motive*.
She tried telling herself she'd only done it because of her own feelings against the chimera, but an element of the words just didn't ring true. No, there was something else. Some inexorable force she couldn't explain, which had caused her to rescue him. Why else had she returned when she'd happened upon that clump of Bellock? She'd meant to keep going, away from the fuzzy burden with his squealing little friend and on with her journey. Alone. It was the perfect opportunity. Yet she'd come back. She'd stopped and *consciously* turned back.
Why?
To that, she had no answer.
She wished her old mentor were here. He'd known her better than even she knew herself. He'd trained her virtually from birth, after all, so he ought to. As a child, she'd been like malleable clay in his capable hands. His to mould in what form he chose. But he'd died many months ago on a mission. A grim reminder of the price of failure - if not by the Guild's hands, then by the hands of a vengeful enemy.
The silence was abruptly broken by Kitty, who - unable to contain herself any longer - unleashed another muted squeak of fear. The Rogue started, blinking her unwanted contemplations back into the crevasses of her mind. Hiding them away. Just like all her memories of....
No! She couldn't think about that anymore. That time was over. Like brittle leaves on a swift Autumn breeze. Gone. Spent.
She straightened up, without warning sheathing the dagger in the small scabbard at her waist.
"I'm leaving now."
"Aber - " Kurt protested. She still hadn't answered his question. But the cloaked girl spun round and made off into the trees without another word. "Hey, wait up Frauline!" He called, and began to bound after her. All at once he halted, a thoughtful expression crossing his furry face.
Kitty was just picking herself up from the floor and dusting off her grimy skirts when a decidedly fuzzy hand thrust itself at her, palm-up. Her eyes slithered up the arm attached to it, coming to rest finally on Kurt's infectious smile and merry eyes.
"Come with us?" He ventured.
"With her!?" Kitty cried, aghast. She didn't need a gesture to signify whom she was referring to, although there were several she had in mind. "Are you, like, mad? Because I think she is!"
Kurt wrinkled his nose. "With *me* then. I'm not really her travelling companion, as you can see. Hey, Frauline, warte auf mich!" The Rogue kept walking, not even acknowledging his shout. He turned back to the brown haired girl sitting before him, hand still outstretched. "Come on, it'll be an adventure. It's a free land. She can't stop us from going to Zanninsa."
"Zanninsa?"
He nodded. "That's where we're going. Come on, you don't exactly have anything here holding you back."
A wry smile hovered about her lips. "I guess not. A house that's gone kablooey really isn't much of a house at all, is it?" She grasped the proffered tridactyl hand. It was warm and soft, and his fur tickled her skin. She repressed a giggle, not wanting to disrespect or offend him. He grinned, revealing wicked fangs.
"It'll be fun. You'll see, Kätzchen."
A puzzled air briefly crossed her sallow face. "What did you just call me?"
"Macht nichts." He chuckled.
Kitty eyed him suspiciously. "Like, whatever."
And they started after the retreating hooded figure, into the night, all the time keeping a safe distance from her itchy blade.
*******************
To Be Continued.....
*******************
TRANSLATIONS:
GERMANIC:
Der Schurke ~ 'The Rogue'
Ich bin hingefallen und habe mir weh getan ~ 'I fell over and hurt myself'
Frech ~ 'Cheeky'
Nein! Es ist urkomisch! ~ 'No! It's hilarious!'
Aber ~ 'But'
Warte auf mich! ~ 'Wait for me!'
WARNINGS: This is an AU (Alternative Universe) fic. Everything has been transplanted into a fantasy universe of my creation. Inspirations, despite what you might initially think, aren't actually from a certain Peter-Jackson-esque film, since I started work on this before I ever *saw* that movie. Influences rather include Internutter's spiffy fic 'Mein Teuful' (if you haven't yet read this then go do it *now*!) and various other sources I'll explain later.
CODES:
Hello = Narration
~ Hello ~ = Thought
"Hello" = Character Speaking
*Hello* = Bold
//Hello// = Psychic communication
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thanx to everyone who's reviewed so far. The response thus far has been much more than I even hoped for. ^_^ I'm sorry I couldn't get this installment up sooner. My computer was acting up again. Go figure. Btw, if anyone wants a picture of the creature chasing Rogue and Kurt, go to http://www.poolofradience.com/thirded and click on the chimera icon. This is where I got my inspiration for it.
'Crash', the Tolkien reference was only a nod at the original fantasy quest epic structure. I never meant to insinuate that my fic was in the same vein as TLoTR. Plus, Rogue is from The Guild of *Assassins*, not Thieves. This kind of couple-related assumption makes me a bit annoyed, too. I never even mentioned hooking Rogue up with anyone, but as soon as the word 'Guild' is mentioned people immediately dismiss it as just another 'Remy/Rogue'. Wait a little, dear readers, and all will be revealed. And perhaps I'll surprise you all. I enjoy rocking the boat a little.
Rant over, on with the fic.
*******************
'Of Beast And Blade' By Scribbler
Chapter Two ~ 'Aberration'
*******************
'The race of mankind would perish did they cease to aid each other. We cannot exist without mutual help. All therefore that need aid have a right to ask it from their fellow-men; and no one who has the power of granting can refuse it without guilt.' -- Walter Scott
*******************
The ball of flames exploded above his head. Kurt felt his fur singe as sparks rained down on him, and doubled his pace to escape being burned more. Behind him lumbered the snarling three-headed beast sprung straight from a nightmare. In front, the retreating form of The Rogue, feet pounding the ground, cloak flying out behind her as she ran.
Considering its immense size, coupled with its cumbersome and bulky shape, the snarling creature moved incredibly fast. It was all Kurt could do to stay ahead of the thing on the ground. The idea of slowing down to climb up a tree was unthinkable. He ran on all fours, yet was still hard pushed to remain ahead of those three sets of snapping jaws.
Catching up to The Rogue was easy enough; after all, she could only run on two legs. He fell in beside her, limbs going like pistons as they dodged this way and that through the trees, trying to shake off their bizarre pursuer.
"Was ist dass? I mean, what is that thing?" He panted.
"A chimera." She replied, not breaking her stride. They swerved left, and then banked a hard right around a pile of large boulders covered in lichen.
"A chimera?" Kurt repeated, struggling slightly with the Common word. "But I thought they were just a legend."
"Try telling that to *him*." She returned.
Kurt turned his head to see the trio of grotesque heads crash through the trees behind them. The dragonhead leaned forward, opening its maw. A flurry of yellowish fire bubbled in the back of its gullet, and then shot forward as a ball of burning flame. The blue-furred boy only just had time to dive forward onto the floor as it skimmed overhead, brushing the tips of his ears and causing him considerable pain as it passed - although a lot less then it would have done had it hit him. Instead it carried on past, blowing up on impact with the boulders and smothering the surrounding area with chunks of exploded rock.
Kurt picked himself up off the floor and stared around.
"Frauline?" He called. "Rogue?"
She was nowhere to be seen. Kurt remembered seeing her slightly behind him just before the fireball was fired. She'd been right in its path. Surely she hadn't....
A roar cut off his train of thought, as the chimera loomed up behind him, spittle dripping from each of its yawning mouths. Kurt emitted a strangled yelp, before turning swiftly and leaping into some nearby bushes in an effort to escape.
Kurt ran for his life. He was under no preconceptions that if the chimera caught him, it would kill him. The creature was famed for its lack of both sentience and compassion. A snarling, dumb beast devoid of speech but possessing more than its fair share of savagery. Until now he'd dismissed it as only a myth. What a way to be proved wrong, he thought grimly.
There was a crash as the chimera plunged through the undergrowth after him. Fear lent wings to his feet and hands, propelling him onward. Wildlife fled at their approach, and Kurt blew past, oblivious as to where he was or where he was going. The only thing he could think of was getting away from the disfigured creature chasing him as fast as he could.
The chimera, however, had other ideas.
It watched the retreating morsel through three sets of eyes, but saw it with only one collective consciousness. To a more judicious beast, tearing up the forest this way was pointless for such a pitiful scrap of meat. There were plenty of other, less troublesome pieces of prey around. But to the slavering chimera's smaller-than-average brain it was worth it. It didn't recognise the blue furry creature it pursued, any more than it had recognised the other one, which now seemed to have disappeared. But something buried deep inside it told it that this was a palatable delicacy, and well worth the chase for the feel of his bones crunching between its teeth, and the taste of his hot blood running down its throats. Some memory, passed down the generations from its distant ancestors, who had eaten the first humanoids over a millennia ago in the verdant forests of what was then a new world. Just the notion of tasting the same flesh, which had delighted those first monsters, was enough to drive the chimera into a frenzy. Bloodlust gave it both strength and speed, and it thundered on through the trees, heedless of the destruction it wreaked.
Kurt was tiring. He wasn't built for maintaining such high speeds for so long. His muscles ached and protested at being overworked, but still he forced them forwards.
Have to keep going. Can't stop. It'll get me if I stop.
Yet in spite of his best efforts, the chimera was gaining on him. He swerved left, disappearing through a mass of bracken, to emerge on the other side covered in spider webs and other various insects. He spat the silky threads from his mouth, and brushed them out of his golden eyes. He didn't recognise this territory at all. How was he supposed to lose that thing when he was lost himself?
He ran forward on two legs, stumbled and fell. The ground vibrated as the chimera approached, and he crawled on his hands and knees through the scrub. A hollow roar echoed across the entire Black Forest, as the hideous creature scented its prey and pushed through the bushes after it. Kurt's sensitive ears were blistered where they'd been burned, and all his joints and muscles screamed with exhaustion.
A huge tree-trunk leg appeared behind him, followed by the questing goathead. It gave a marred bleat, which sounded more like a dying squeal, as it spotted Kurt desperately crawling away. At once the other two heads appeared, drooling copiously, and eying him with greedy delight.
Kurt struggled to get to his feet, but his limbs weren't his own any more, and he stumbled. A small sharp stone drove itself into his palm, making him wince and leaving a streak of red on the ground. He bit his lip against the pain, and clenched his fist to staunch the blood.
The ground trembled as the chimera approached. The furry boy urgently scrambled away from it, trying not to put too much pressure on his injured hand. He crawled as fast as he could, but uttered a squeak of alarm as the ground beneath him very suddenly, and very unexpectedly, began to crumble away. Huge clumps of dried soil, powdery and unstable after the long hot Summer, came away under his weight, tumbling down a steep slope revealed below.
Kurt peered through a hole that had just grown in the forest floor underneath his knee. He found himself staring down into a huge quarry, long since abandoned by those who created it, and with sides worn smooth from years of weathering. The patch of ground he knelt on was actually merely an overhang where the earth beneath it had been scooped out. Kurt gazed down into the concave. It was at least a sixty-foot drop, followed by a mass of curved packed hard until it was as smooth and impenetrable as solid stone, and formed into a roughly curved shape.
An ear-splitting roar rent the air, then stopped. Kurt's heart pounded in his thin chest, and he could hear his breathing for the first time in many minutes, harsh and ragged.
What had happened? Why had the chimera fallen silent?
Tentatively, he turned his head to see behind him. The chimera was bent over something on the ground, sniffing intently at it. All three faces were focused on what they had found, and seemed completely oblivious to him. Briefly, he wondered what it was that held their attention so, but he was more concerned with taking advantage of it to escape. Carefully, and as silently as he could manage on his shaking limbs, he got to his feet, and was just about to creep away when he saw what it was that held the creature fast.
A small sharp stone, splattered in red liquid. Blood.
His blood.
The dragonhead leaned forward until its snout almost touched the ground. Slowly, and with incongruous grace, it parted its vast jaws and a red tongue covered in pulsing bumps and spikes slid out. It tasted the crimson fluid, eyes widening as the unique flavour spread across its palate. Unique and full of promise. The taste of prey-flesh.
Kurt stumbled back as, quicker than he'd thought possible, the chimera whirled round and lunged at him. He smelt the hot stink of its breath in his face, and gazed into its gaping mouths as they descended upon him like a bolt of living death.
But they never reached their mark, for at that moment the ground collapsed. Weakened by years of erosion, the overhang wasn't strong enough to withstand the combined weight of both the boy and the monster, and with a sickening crunch it gave way, leaving them to fall into the quarry below.
Down they plummeted, accompanied only by soil and debris. It was a sheer drop, and they struck the curve hard, rolling over and over, a flailing mass of fire and blue fur. Kurt tried valiantly to stay away from the thrashing chimera, but a flying hoof caught him in the chest, driving all the air from his lungs and rendering him winded and gasping in the dirt.
They eventually rolled to a halt several hundred feet away from where they'd started. Only Kurt's amazing agility had saved him from sustaining any fatal injuries, but he lay prone, unable to move for want of a little life-giving oxygen. The chimera, squealing horribly, clambered to its feet, revealing one of its huge front paws dragging limp and useless as it tried to walk. It was obviously broken, and left a groove in the powdery fallen soil.
Kurt could only watch impotently as the beast cast about it in confusion. He prayed it wouldn't see him. That the hewn rocks around would shield his body until he had enough breath to flee.
But his prayers were in vain. The lionhead's slit eyes fell upon him, and it emitted a yowling cry before starting forward, injuries forgotten in the face of devouring him. Kurt squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't move. This was it. He was going to die, torn apart by those monstrous teeth and swallowed piece by piece. In his final moments an image of his mother flashed through his mind, and all he could think of was how lonely she'd be when he didn't return from his 'adventure'.
The acrid stench of the chimera's breath filled his nostrils, and he waited for one of the mouths to clamp down around his skull, crushing it like an eggshell.
I'm sorry, mother.
"Yaaaaaaah!"
What was that?
The chimera screamed. A mind-blowing screech of pain.
"Move, elf!"
Kurt's eyelids snapped open, and he saw the chimera raised up on its hind legs, every mouth squealing in agony. Clinging precariously to it back he saw a cloaked figure, hood pulled back and hair flying as she endeavoured to keep from falling. Her sword protruded from the back of the lionhead's neck, black blood oozing around the blade.
Body baulking violently, the blue-furred boy heaved himself onto his feet, gripping a nearby rock for support. The Rogue wrenched her sword free, eliciting another anguished screech from the creature. With infallible polish she leaped from its back and hit the ground at a run.
And run she did. She blew past Kurt, grabbing his arm and pulling him along behind her. He yelled in pain, but followed her unquestioningly. She'd just saved his life after all.
The pair fled, kicking up a dust cloud with their heels from the sandstone quarry. In what seemed like no time at all, an angry roar perforated the air. The chimera was giving chase.
The Rogue chanced a glance over her shoulder. The middle head hung lifelessly between the other two, dripping pitch ooze as it cantered along. The goathead bleated, and the dragonhead opened its jaws to release another deadly fireball. The Rogue swerved left, yanking Kurt excruciatingly with her, and resumed looking ahead.
Further on she could see the edge of the quarry walls. Vertical, and sharply cut. She aimed for them, hoping there was some kind of shelter beyond. They couldn't last much longer this way. A more permanent solution was called for, although she had no idea as to what this might be at present. Just get to the wall, her almost-conscience told her. Think about this after.
They sprinted for their lives, dodging fireballs and trying to stay ahead of the injured and maddened beast. The Rogue knew her blow wouldn't have killed that thing. As long as even one of the three heads remained then it would survive. To tell the truth, she'd been surprised that her sword had pierced its hide. Perhaps the legends weren't completely accurate after all and it *was* possible to slay a chimera by mortal means.
Only a few feet left now. Run, run! Faster, faster! The elf's panting sounded loudly in her ears, and her own heart thundered against her ribcage. Five feet. Four. Three. Two. One. They rounded the bend to see....
A house.
She almost faltered. But no, it really *was* a house. Out here in the middle of nowhere, and clearly inhabited by someone. As they neared it she could see a figure standing outside, digging in some kind of vegetable patch. The person looked up at their approach, eyes widening at the duo rushing towards him or her.
The Rogue didn't even have time to shout out a warning before a fireball exploded at her feet, sending both she and the elf flying into the air to land in a heap several metres away. She kicked violently at him to get off her, her foot connecting solidly with the palm of his hand. A shower of crimson droplets sprayed over her boot, staining the sparse grass beneath them an ugly colour. But The Rogue broke free of him regardless, only to see the chimera hove into view around the side of the quarry wall.
It lumbered forward, two of the three faces screaming. The girl felt her blood run cold, and roughly dragged the elf to his feet before turning and running again. There was nowhere to go except past that curious house or back to the quarry. She sped on, mouth set in a grim line. She wouldn't let herself be killed by some fairytale-reject.
The figure outside the house dropped its spade, hands flying to its mouth in a silent scream. As they neared, The Rogue could see that it was a girl, slightly younger then herself, and wearing typical female peasant clothing of undyed woollen skirts and a smudgy pinafore.
The Rogue yelled, "Run!" but the girl was already running.... back into the house! If she'd had time, The Rogue would have rolled her eyes in disgust at this cowardly and stupid action. That girl was going to be cornered, for the chimera had seen her go into the dwelling. Of all the idiotic....
A hacking roar interrupted her train of thought. The chimera could see its prey escaping, and this, coupled with the intense pain from its fallen head, injected a new burst of speed into its stride. It leaped for them, flying through the air with claws outstretched.
They were nearly at the house. The Rogue gripped the elf by the scruff of his neck and forcefully dove aside. The howling chimera sailed on overhead, missing them completely and instead striking the side of the crude building. There was a crash, followed by a humanoid scream. Female. That girl. The Rogue lifted her head. The chimera had smashed down part of the wall, exposing the innards of the house and its screaming occupant. The girl retreated further inside the building, but the chimera - deprived of its initial prey - forced its way after her, breaking beams and wooden floorboards as it progressed.
Kurt heard the scream through a fuggy haze. It sounded familiar somehow, like the voice of someone he knew. It was distorted slightly by the haze clogging his brain, but his subconscious made the connection where his conscious could not. Images of blue skin and the heavy smell of incense permeated him, and he raised his head to see a feminine figure retreat into a half-destroyed wooden house, chased by the snarling chimera.
Without really thinking what he was doing, Kurt scrambled to his aching feet and stumbled forwards. He heard a voice calling him back, but paid it no heed, not stopping until he was at the gaping hole into the building. The chimera's rear end poked out of the hole, lion's tail lashing. It's considerable bulk almost completely filled the aperture, but there was a small opening between its legs where the useless forepaw hung freely. Kurt crouched onto all fours and crawled through this, rolling aside to avoid the two sets of snapping jaws beyond.
He was in a smallish room, made smaller by the growling chimera. It stood halfway into the room, edging towards where a small figure crouched against the opposite wall. He dashed across to where this figure sat, knees clasped against its chest and forehead pressed against its knees, trembling with fear. It was female alright, but something was wrong. This wasn't the blue-skinned one he sought. She was different. Alien.
He reached her side, and her head abruptly jerked up. Kurt stared into two grey-green eyes set in ivory skin, cheeks stained with dirt and tears. She gazed back at him, horror etched into her pretty features. Before he could stop her she was crawling away on her backside, screaming afresh.
"No! Keep away from me, you monster!"
Monster? Him? Kurt blinked, nonplussed. Why was she scared of him?
The girl stared at him, wide-eyed, face filled with unbridled terror. Kurt looked at her, and was suddenly overcome by an inexorable need to comfort and protect. So what if this one wasn't the blue-skinned one he was searching for? She still needed help. He reached out, but she scudded further away.
The goathead gave a bleat as it pounced, stretching its neck as far as it could go. Its dripping fangs came within mere inches of the girl's back, but Kurt too dived forward, wrenching her out of reach. He clasped her body to his own and shrank back against the wall, feeling her shaking. One sentient thought immediately sliced through the mist clouding his brain.
Run!
But run where?
The chimera was getting closer. There was nowhere to go. It blocked his way. There was no escape. Saliva blew into his furry face as the dragonhead opened its maw. He could see the telltale glow starting at the back of its throat. Flames began to flicker into its gullet, gathering into a small ball, then growing larger. Have to get away, but where to go? No way out. Trapped. Fire getting bigger. Must escape. Have to save the girl. Have to....
The dragonhead suddenly snapped shut with a hollow clack, effectively shutting in the burning flames. Its eyes bulged, but its mouth remained closed. It was almost as if it *couldn't* open it. Kurt's gaze was caught by a brilliant burst of silver beneath.
The Rogue stood, knife clasped above her in both gloved hands, impaling the head through the soft flesh just behind the chin. Black blood ran liberally down the vertical blade, and she pulled it partially free, releasing a veritable waterfall of the dark liquid. Some of it splashed her face, leaving a trail of sticky fluid. She grunted; the knife was stuck fast. The dragonhead swung back and forth in pain, wrenching it from her grasp. She'd have to leave it. She glared at Kurt and the girl still fastened protectively to his chest. Her expression was still infuriatingly indifferent, and she called above the tormented squeals of the dragonhead.
"Move your ass, fuzzy!"
With that, she threw herself between its legs and rolled back into the outside world.
The dragonhead's lips dripped yellow flames. The fireball had grown too much to be reabsorbed, and it pushed against the living barrier imprisoning it.
Kurt cast about for an escape route. He couldn't follow The Rogue because that would have meant passing the chimera, but there didn't seem to be any other way out. The girl in his arms raised her streaked face and looked at the dragonhead, whose jaws were now being visibly forced apart by the fireball, which glowed hot yellow between its teeth. Her eyes took on the appearance of two round moons.
"Look out! It's gonna blow!"
She pushed forward, slamming him against the wooden wall. Kurt was surprised at the unexpected move, but even more so at what happened next. An intense feeling of nothingness enveloped him, as if his spirit had been removed from his body and now floated free. The wall behind him began to fade. It was nothing but shadow - no, it was less than shadow. It was made of little more than air. He literally melted through it, emerging on the other side to land on his tail with a bump.
The girl released him, and his senses returned in a dizzying swirl. Yet he had little time to reacquaint himself with them, as she picked herself up and bounded away, yelling loudly.
"Run! The tank's gonna go sky high any second!"
Tank? What tank? What was she talking about? And what just happened? But he took her advice anyway, struggling to his pained feet and fleeing as fast as his two legs could take him. For a short time he attempted to run on four legs, but the agony from his hand was too much to bear, and he reverted to running like a two-legger.
A colossal explosion rocked the countryside. A single, huge funnel of fire filled the skyline, blasting up as far as the naked eye could see and causing a gale force wind that floored everything it touched. Kurt and the girl were blown from their feet; noses ploughing into the dust as their hair and fur were whipped into a fury by the pummelling airstream. Burning air washed over them, and pieces of miniscule debris hurtled from the sky to bury themselves in the earth with a hiss.
When it was all over Kurt raised his face. The chimera was gone, as was the house. In their place stood a huge blackened crater, still smoking. Everywhere was enveloped by an evil-smelling thick mist, and he coughed as it filtered into his lungs. Silence reigned supreme; the only sound being his own raggedy breathing.
No, wait. There was another sound. And movement. He heard someone groan close by, and turned to look at them.
The strange girl sat up, rubbing the back of her head. Kurt could see that part of her brown hair had been singed off there, and the skin had turned an angry red. The rest of her hair wafted wispily about her face, loose and unkempt to her shoulders. She opened her eyes, peering at the crater with a mixture of disbelief and anger.
"My house!" She shouted. "My *house*! You destroyed my house!"
"Wie bitte?"
"You filthy demon, with your filthy demon friends! You burned down my house!"
"I think you'll find it was the chimera that totalled your house." The voice arrived even before The Rogue peeled herself out of the ash-mist. "And *he* tried to save you from it - fool that he is. A little more gratitude wouldn't go amiss."
"Gratitude?" The girl screeched, incensed. "Gratitude? You mean I should be grateful you two burned down my home?"
"It didn't burn down, it blew up." The Rogue sniffed. "If you're gonna accuse then at least do it right."
"Why you - " The girl scrabbled to an upright position and took a step towards the shrouded figure. At once The Rogue's sword - still stained with rapidly crystallizing black blood - snaked out from beneath the cloak and was at her throat.
"Take one more step and I'll cut out your vocal chords." She said with chilling calmness.
The girl visibly gulped, eying the keen blade. "Who are you people?"
"None of your business, shrimp."
"Frauline, bitte. Let me talk with her." Kurt hauled himself up, swaying slightly and pausing a moment to let his head stop spinning. When he was certain the ground wouldn't give way under him he stepped forward. The girl glared at him, but there was fear in her gaze as well. It was patently clear that had The Rogue's sword not been millimetres away from her jugular she would have fled. Kurt wondered why she seemed so scared of him. After all, he wasn't the one threatening to slit her throat, and he'd tried to rescue her from the chimera.
He reached out a tentative hand - the uninjured one - in a gesture of friendship. She perceptibly flinched.
Realization of the reason for her demeanour struck him like a stampeding bull.
His appearance.
Even Kurt had to admit that upon first sight he wasn't exactly the most non-threatening looking of people. Well, he'd just have to *make* her understand that he meant her no harm.
He dropped the hand to his side. "Are you afraid of me, Frauline?"
She seemed surprised at his question, and didn't answer until The Rogue moved her sword a fraction as incentive, whereupon she muttered sulkily. "Yes."
"Do you think of me as an evil demon?"
Another sulky mutter. "Yes."
"Have you ever met a demon before?"
"Well.... no."
"Then how can you be sure that I am one, or that all demons are evil?"
Silence.
"Well?" The Rogue snapped.
"I.... I guess I can't." The girl mumbled grudgingly.
"Do I *seem* dangerous to you?"
She looked at him then. I mean, really *looked* at him. That searching stare he'd experienced very few times in his life. Like someone was looking straight through him, through the fur and fangs and odd-shaped limbs to what lay beneath. Into his soul. He held stock still, afraid that if he moved he'd break her concentration and the outer shell would get in the way once more, and she'd judge him for *what* he appeared to be instead of *who* he was.
Her eyes flickered back and forth, The Rogue noted. Odd, considering the elf was standing stock-still. Just what was this girl seeing the she couldn't?
The girl's eyes floated up to his azure face and focused on his golden eyes. Kurt had once heard someone say that eyes are the windows into the soul, and - if possible - he froze even more, holding her gaze like a person transfixed.
Eventually she stopped staring. "No. You *look* dangerous, but.... but.... I dunno. Somehow you don't *seem* it."
Kurt smiled, revealing sharp white teeth. To his surprise and pleasure, she didn't react to them. There was still choler in her gaze at the loss of her home, but the hatred and fear he'd seen before were fading fast. At least, regarding him. The Rogue, however, was a different matter. It's difficult to think of someone as not dangerous when they're blatantly trying to make you believe that they are. *Especially* when they're doing it with a sword.
"Bitte, Frauline. Put away your weapon. Sie ist unarmed. Ich denke sie doesn't pose a threat."
"I'll be the judge of that, elf." The Rogue replied icily, but dropped the blade tip from the girl's throat. She stayed for only a moment more before sauntering away to clean the discoloured metal on a patch of meagre grass.
The girl let out a relieved sigh. "Thanks."
"Think nothing of it. Just be careful around her, she's.... volatile."
"I'd noticed."
Kurt glanced over at the crater again, and opened his mouth to ask how a simple fireball could cause so much destruction. But as he did so, a sudden wave of nausea washed over him. He abruptly became acutely aware of the pain in his hand, and clenched a fist to try and relieve it a little. It didn't help.
The girl looked taken aback by the expression of pure agony that crossed his visage. She switched her gaze to where his tri-fingered hand had balled into a fist so tight it was shaking.
"You're hurt." She surmised. "Here, let me take a look at that."
At first he refused, and took a step backwards, but that only made the world spin. She gripped his hand and gently uncurled his fingers. Somehow, it felt good to be touched where it hurt, but at the same time a concentrated agony coursed through him like none he'd ever felt before. Surely all this pain couldn't just be coming from a cut on his hand? He felt dizzy, and fought to stay on his feet.
The girl gawked at the furry boy's wound. A diagonal slash ran across his palm, originating from a deep circular puncture just below what could be considered his thumb. Blood leaked copiously from it, staining his fur crimson and dripping onto the ground with faint 'splats'. There was dirt in there, and several large pieces of grit and small pebbles. On instinct she gripped the biggest one - which seemed rather to be a fragment broken from some other bigger stone - between her thumb and forefinger and pulled. It resisted, but then slid out easily. She tossed it to the floor and then transferred her gaze back to his eyes.
"Ach, much better." He murmured, before his legs gave way and he fell to his knees. The world was fading again. Vague utterances slithered into his ears like wraiths of a dream.
"Hey, help! Your friend's fainted!"
"Not mah friend. Not mah problem."
Twittering moths. He was leaving their coveted light behind. His body keeled over of it own accord, striking the baked earth with a muted thump. So tired. So very, very tired.
Then, there was only darkness.
*******************
Kurt swam back to consciousness to find he was lying on his back. That much he could tell with eyes still closed, plus his heightened senses - though still groggy and not quite up to scratch - told him another person was nearby. He could hear whomever it was breathing, and a chill wind ruffled his fur, also informing him that it was night and he was outside.
He opened his eyes and stared into the sky. Murky blue, but not quite nighttime yet. More like late evening. He was getting slow. He should have been able to tell the difference.
He rolled over onto his side, but a piercing pain lanced through his hand as he tried to lever himself up, and he rolled back again. A scuffling started up somewhere near his head at this movement, and a pale face with greenish-blue eyes hove into view above him. It was the girl whose house had been destroyed, and she wore a look of worried concern as she stared down from kneeling over him.
"Hey. You awake?"
Kurt's mouth was incredibly dry, but he whispered an answer nonetheless.
"Nein. I always sleep mit mein eyes open."
The girl seemed perplexed for a moment, and then a small smile creased her face.
"Can you, like, sit up?"
"I think so, but I'll need a little help."
She nodded, and extended her own hand to grasp his arm and haul him into a sitting position. Kurt perceived she was painfully thin, not so much as to be skeletal, but pretty damn close. Also, he noted that her flesh was warm and soft, and most definitely solid. The pleasure he felt at having someone voluntarily touch him was tinted by confusion as to how she could be so *solid*.
"Danke."
"S'alright." She replied.
Kurt eyed her warily. "You still mad?"
She sighed, a resigned, acquiescent exhalation of breath, and averted her gaze to the floor. "A bit. But not so much as before. Getting mad at you won't bring my house back and will probably, like, shorten my life anyway."
"You don't seem so scared of me anymore."
"Don't fool yourself, I'm still scared. But, like I said, just not so much as before. After all, you did try to save me from that.... that thing."
"Chimera." Kurt supplied.
"Uh-huh. It's weird, because they never usually come so close to human habitation. They generally live deeper in the Black Forest than this. In herds too. It's kinda strange to see one on its own."
"Ach, ja? Unglaublich."
The girl's eyes slid over to him. "OK, you're gonna have to help me out on that one, since I speak like, zilch Germanic."
Kurt blinked. "But you live in the Black Forest. How can you not speak Germanic? We're in Germania."
"Yeah, but I only ever spoke Common when I was growing up."
"Oh." Kurt licked his dry lips. "Well, I said 'Really? Unbelievable.' I personally thought that chimera were only a legend."
"Boy, do you have a lot to learn. There are so many creatures like that out there I, like, don't even know the names to like, half of them."
"Oh." That titbit of information was not something he particularly wanted to hear right now. He could think of several monsters just off the top of his head he would never, ever want to meet, and had thus far taken solace from the fact that they were only the stuff of myth and imagination. Now it seemed that illusion had been most spectacularly shattered.
"Do you have a name?"
The question caught him off guard. "A name? Me?"
"Yeah. A name. It's not that difficult a question, is it?"
"Nein, nein. Mein name ist Kurt."
"Kurt." She repeated, turning it over on her tongue. "I'm Kitty. Kitty Pryde."
"Nice to meet you." Kurt held out his hand to shake hers, and abruptly noticed a length of swarthy material wrapped around it, slightly stained with blood. He stared at it, and then looked at her.
"You?"
She nodded. "I dunno if I like, did it right or anything. But you were bleeding like, everywhere. I had to do something."
"It feels good."
"I cleaned it out first. That's what my Mom always used to do when I cut myself."
Kurt flexed his fingers, and then winced. The pain was still excruciating when he moved the wound, and only faded to a dull ache when he keep his palm fixed in one position. His golden eyes fell upon Kitty's pinafore. The fabric was identical to that wrapped around his hand, and ragged at the bottom, as if she'd torn strips off. He raised his gaze to her face. Her hair was tied back now, covering the ugly bald patch on the crown of her skull, and held by another shred of smudgy material.
"Used to do?"
"My parents like, both died last year from Shaking Sickness. I never had any like, brothers or sisters." Sadness clouded her eyes.
"I'm sorry."
"S'alright. I can deal." She had a curious form of speech, which was punctured every now and then by strange use of the word 'like'. Kurt found it erratic and sometimes quite difficult to understand what she was saying. He found himself wishing her accent were a little easier to interpret, like The Rogue's. At once, a sudden thought struck him, and he stared about at the near-barren patch of land.
"Where is Der Schurke?" He asked momentarily forgetting Kitty couldn't understand Germanic.
Kitty, however, guessed whom he was referring to, though she didn't comprehend the title. "Who? That girl? She left."
"Left?"
"Uh-huh. Didn't like, say a word either. Just like, got up and walked away into the forest." She indicated to a band of trees beyond the crater where her house had once stood. Another part of the Black Forest, beyond the land of the disused quarry. "She didn't seem like, concerned about you or anything. And you were practically dead on the floor."
A wry grin split Kurt's furry face. "I'm not exactly a welcome travelling companion. In fact, I probably should've guessed she'd leave the moment I was out of it. Perfect opportunity to get away from me."
"Nice." Kitty expostulated. "Why would she like, wanna do that?"
"Because he's an annoying little blue furball with a big mouth."
"Frauline?" Kurt couldn't believe it, and for a moment thought he was hallucinating. But no, it *was* The Rogue. Stalking towards them from the closely-knit mass of trees. Her hood was up, and her cloak swirled about making her visually unidentifiable, but there was no mistaking that voice. Harsh, yet lilting, and undeniably southern.
She approached them quickly. The fact that she was standing whilst they sat gave her an intimidating air - just the way she liked it. Her face was totally hidden by the shadows cast by her hood. Kurt heard a 'snikt' of metal, and fell backwards as her sword suddenly lanced out from beneath the shroud towards him. Kitty gave a small squeal, and the pair of them both scuttled away on their behinds. Kurt was the first to stop. His keen night-vision had allowed him to see that The Rogue was holding her weapon in an almost flaccid grip, and there was something speared on the tip. A plant. The imposing figure took a step forward to him and thrust the greenery into his lap.
"Here. Take this." Was the brusque order. Kurt daintily picked the limp plant up in his undamaged fingers. It was a weed of some description, with a head of many tiny red flowers. As he moved it, powdery yellow pollen dusted his dark fur.
"Don't waste it." The Rogue snapped. "It's Bellock."
"Bellock?" Kitty crawled forward on her hands and knees. "Isn't that like, a painkiller?"
"Sharp aren't you?" The other girl retorted.
"What am I supposed to do with it?" Kurt asked. The Rogue rolled her eyes.
"You put the pollen on a wound." Kitty replied for her. "It helps with the pain and like, stops infections."
"Ja? Danke, Frauline." Kurt said gratefully, pulling at his makeshift bandage.
"Here, let me help you with that." Kitty offered, taking his hand gently in hers. "I wrapped it pretty tight, and you might like, hurt yourself more if you tug at it."
The Rogue stood over them, body language unreadable, even to Kurt. "So what did you do to yourself, elf?"
"Hey, he has a name you know." Kitty said almost angrily. "It's Kurt."
"Like I care? He's still just a stupid elf to me."
Kitty glared. She seriously didn't like this girl's attitude. Who did she think she was? Manners, her mother had told her often enough, didn't cast a penny, but were worth more than gold.
"Ich bin hingefallen und habe mir weh getan." Kurt explained, wincing slightly as the blood soaked strips were peeled away. He wasn't bleeding anymore, but the old blood had crystallized, sticking the fabric to his fur and pulling it out by the roots when Kitty detached it.
"Trust you." The Rogue growled. Kitty glanced up at her.
"Wait a minute, you can like, understand him? But you're not from Germania. You're accent's from the Southern Realms."
"You don't have to be from a country to speak the language, shrimp." The Rogue spat, before turning and walking a few paces away from the pair and hunkering down to sit cross-legged with her back to them on the blackened ground. "I had to speak lots of different languages in mah old job."
"And what exactly was your job?"
Silence.
"Hey, I'm talking to you!"
"Shhh." Kurt grasped her wrist urgently. "Please, don't anger her. She can be very dangerous when angered."
"So can I." Kitty muttered. "Just who exactly does she think she is, anyway?"
Kurt's voice fell to a low whisper, and he glanced conspiratally around before speaking. "She's The Rogue of The Guild of Assassins."
Kitty's eyes abruptly widened in disbelief. "Really? Her?" She turned to stare at the figure sitting in the gathering darkness. "But I thought The Rogue was a man."
Kurt shook his head. "It's true, The Guild of Assassins is made up of mostly males and it's very rare for them to include a female in their ranks, but she *is* The Rogue."
"Wow." Kitty breathed at the presence of the unorthodox and rather frightening celebrity in their midst. "I mean like, wow!"
"I know. Ow!"
"Sorry! Sorry! Wasn't concentrating. It's just so like, wow! Did I hurt you?" She peered closely at his torn flesh, where a thin driblet of crimson had appeared from under a reopened scab.
"Not much." Kurt gritted. "It's probably better this way. Now I can get the pollen into my blood properly." He reached for the plant, which was lying on the ground by his foot.
"Oh no you don't." Kitty snatched it up and waggled a finger at him. "*I'll* do it. I know what I'm doing." She proceeded to systematically disconnect each red flower and carefully empty the contents over Kurt's leaking wound. Gradually, his palm became covered in the powdery substance, creating the effect that he had mottled blue and yellow fur.
"Hey, I've changed colour. Like the new look?"
"Either that or you've got one heck of a skin condition." Kitty giggled. Kurt smiled. At least she didn't seem to be fretting about her house anymore. Her laughter sounded nice. He didn't usually hear laughter at home. His mother was so serious, and when she *was* amused, she'd only ever smile. She never, ever laughed, let alone giggled.
"Frech." He grinned.
"Will you two pipe down!" The Rogue snarled, not facing them.
"Are you trying to sleep?" Kitty asked, with more than a little fear in her tone now she'd learned the identity of the girl and her terrible reputation.
Everyone in the land knew of The Rogue of The Guild of Assassins. Many rumours abounded about this secretive individual. Some said The Rogue feasted solely on human flesh, others said that The Rogue was the only outcast from the Guild ever to remain alive, and there were some that said The Rogue was really a demon in disguise, who stole children from their beds and offered them up as sacrifices to the Lady Moon in the dead of night. Since the Guild of Assassins was so secretive anyway, nobody knew whether these rumours held any grain of truth. Some even went so far as to say that The Rogue was only a myth. A story made up by idle housewives and mothers to scare their children into going to bed.
How wrong they are, Kitty thought to herself. If only they could see her now. Who would have believed The Rogue would be like, female? She doesn't look much older than me either. I wonder if any of those stories about her *are* true? No, wait, I don't think I wanna like, know if they are.
"No, I'm not tryin' to sleep. I'd never be so stupid as to sleep out in the open like this."
"Why's that?"
"No cover. It's too easy to surround and trap prey in."
"Prey?" Kitty mentally gulped. Even her diction was predatory. Savage. That of a hunter.
How strange that she should be more scared of a human than of the fuzzy blue elf sitting beside her. Yet, there was something about Kurt. His entire bearing was non-threatening, as if he'd spent a considerable amount of time perfecting how to make people feel comfortable in his decidedly odd presence. It was soothing, in an unconventional kind of way.
"Miss Kitty? May I ask you a question?"
Now it was her turn to be caught off guard. Kitty verbally fumbled for a moment, then regained her composure enough to speak. "Yeah, sure. Fire away, Kurt. But don't call me 'Miss Kitty', would ya? Just Kitty will do."
"Um, OK. Well.... this may seem kind of weird, but.... um...."
"Come on, spit it out."
"Um.... was there anything, uh.... Special, about your house?"
Her face adopted a confused expression, tilted to one side with a single eyebrow raised. "How do you mean?"
"I mean, like people being able to fall *through* the walls, and the fact that it blew *up* instead of burning *down*?"
Her expression quickly switched to one of discomfiture. "Well, you see that's kinda an embarrassing subject. Um.... you see, there was this tank below the house."
"'Tank'? What's a 'tank'?"
"It's like a big metal container. And in this one, there were some gases which were highly flammable."
"Flammable?"
"Yeah. Like, one spark equals big boom, OK? Put it this way, when my Dad was alive, he wasn't even allowed to smoke his favourite pipe inside the house because of it. It was like, right below the floorboards."
"How come you kept it there?" Kurt was interested. What could possibly be kept in a big metal container beneath a whole house? Having had little exposure to the world, he imagined a large jewellery box rather like his mother's buried under people's very feet, and marvelled at the oddness of the concept.
"It was like, more convenient. Although my Mom always said it wasn't really sanitary. She was a stickler for germs and stuff." Kitty squirmed slightly, trying to skirt tactfully around the topic, hoping Kurt wouldn't ask that one question she was too embarrassed to answer straight out.
Too late.
"What was in this tank?" Kurt asked innocently.
There it was! How the heck was she supposed to like, avoid something that frank? Kitty fidgeted profusely, redirecting her eyes to the ground and muttering something akin to a whisper.
"Excuse me?" Kurt's blue face was a picture of ingenuousness. "What did you say?"
She mumbled again, and he leaned in closer, having to strain even *his* sensitive ears to make out what she was saying.
"Sewaher."
"Sewaher? What's that, Frauline?"
Kitty sighed, resigned to her embarrassing fate. Why couldn't her parents have piped it somewhere else. Like, *not* right under the house, at least!
"I said.... sewage."
"Sewage? You mean like....?"
She nodded. "Uh-huh. Totally icksome, huh?"
Kurt blinked once, and then fell backwards holding his sides, laughter roaring from his gullet in an insurmountable wave. "Nein! Es ist urkomisch! Hilarious!"
Kitty stared, gob smacked. Then a small smile played about her lips too. "I guess it could be seen as funny."
"Could be? Frauline, that's the funniest thing I've ever heard in my entire life! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!" He trailed off into uncontrollable sobs of mirth. "You were living....ha ha ha ha .... You were living on top of .... Ha ha ha ha! Schiesse!"
Kitty giggled, seeing the funny side at last. "Yup. Not so good on hot days."
"Eew!" Kurt expostulated, still wracked with hilarity. "Too much information!"
He carried on this way for several more seconds, on his back, feet kicking and tail lashing as her fought to bring his breathing under control. Suddenly, he was shocked back into mock-gravity by a steel sword point burying itself in the ground by his head. The laughter gurgled in his throat as he looked up and saw The Rogue standing over him, her face impassive but her dark eyes thunderous.
"Are you gonna shut up, or am I gonna cut your tongue out?" She hissed.
Kurt hiccupped, stifling a few errant giggles and attempting - but failing - to drive all thoughts of the Pryde's exploding septic tank from his mind. "Shutting up." He managed to choke out, holding up his hand in a gesture of peace. The Rogue glared at him. Her expression was enough to quell any leftover chuckles before they had chance to rise to the surface, and Kurt fell silent under her stony gaze.
"That's better. You make way too much noise, elf."
"I'm sorry, Frauline." He apologised, pushing himself up with one hand, and then gripping it in pain. "Yowch!"
"Here, let me help. I never finished wrapping it properly." Kitty murmured, anxious not to incur The Rogue's wrath by speaking too loudly. She busied herself with the scruffy bandages, avoiding the older girl's harsh stare.
For her part, The Rogue turned and sat down in her previous position a few feet away, completely unconcerned with kitty's feverish movements. Yet she didn't rest, even for a second. Her eyes constantly scanned the terrain, looking for signs of approaching danger. Her intense training wouldn't let her rest, and her keen senses stayed relentlessly on the alert.
Conversation wasn't her thing. She preferred silence. It allowed her to collect and examine her thoughts. But she let the idle, whispered chatter of the two younger adolescents slide past her ears, keeping half of her senses focused on the area around them, the other half strangely intrigued by their talk.
"So, getting back to my original question - "
"Yeah. Well, I have to tell you, Kurt. When you fell through the wall? Well, it wasn't the house. That was me."
"You?" Kurt stared, baffled. "But, how is that possible?"
"I dunno." Kitty shrugged her thin shoulders, and Kurt noticed how her collarbones stuck out horribly when she did so.
~Poor little thing.~ He thought kindly, temporarily sidetracked. ~All alone up here. She probably hasn't had anything substantial to eat in a while, judging by the look of her. This ground must not be too fertile, and I don't remember seeing any animals about. Not that they'd still be alive after a blast like that. Poor little Kätzchen.~
The nickname popped into his head uncalled for, but he turned it over in his mind, trying it out. Kätzchen. Yes, that was a good name for her. She wasn't big enough to be a real cat, but a kitten was a different matter.
"Hey, are you even listening to me?" Kitty waved a hand in front of his face.
"Huh? Wha-? Yes! Sorry, yes I'm listening. Go on." Kurt blushed beneath his fur at his inattention.
"Well, like I was *saying*, I don't know like, how I can do it. I literally just woke up one morning to find I could like, pass through solid objects."
"How'd you find out?"
"Let's just say, I started off in my bed in the attic, and ended up on the kitchen floor - without having to use the stairs."
"Oh." There didn't seem to be anything else to say to a statement like that. "Doesn't it worry you?"
"Not really. I mean, it did at first, but that was a couple of months ago, and it hasn't like, affected my heath or anything. Although I have to say, up until today I couldn't like, take anybody with me. It was like, total surprise-ville when you went through the wall too. Not that I'm complaining." She smiled, and Kurt blushed again. "I can't really control it. It kinda happens at random. When I'm, like, stressed out and stuff."
"Ya'll are very trusting aren't you?" The Rogue's unexpected voice floated over. Kitty perceptibly jerked, not knowing how to react, and apprehensive of offending the hazardous-of-temperament girl. It was more of a declaration than a question, but something told her the speaker required an answer nonetheless.
Kitty swallowed. "Of course. What's a person without trust?"
"Smart." Came the whip-crack reply. "In this world you shouldn't trust anyone if you wanna stay alive. Hey, elf?"
"Ja?" He was getting used to the epithet now, though he still didn't particularly like it. It beat 'demon' though, or having his gizzard carved out for arguing.
"Do you trust me? And be honest. I'll know if you're lying."
"Well.... perhaps not per se - "
"You see?" She sounded almost triumphant. "Trust is a weakness. It makes you vulnerable. The only reason he's stayed alive so far is because he *doesn't* trust me."
Something twinged in the back of Kurt's mind at this statement, but his attention was caught when Kitty dared to ask another question, and the suspicious niggling was momentarily forgotten.
"Haven't you ever trusted anyone?"
"I prefer to rely on myself. That way, nobody can betray mah trust or let me down."
Was it his imagination, or did The Rogue sound a little *too* vehement? Her back was still facing them, but Kurt wagered her expression was unmoved. Since she was sitting immobile, he couldn't read her body language very well, although he wondered if it was his tired mind playing tricks on him, or whether her shoulders had slumped a tad when she said 'betray my trust'?
Kitty elected to risk another question. However, this one wasn't so well received. "But surely - "
"Drop it, shrimp, before I burn the rest of your hair off. I said I never trusted no-one, so I never trusted no-one, OK?"
Kurt would have called it quits at this point - having been almost skewered on The Rogue's sword several times, he knew the limitations of her patience - but it appeared Kitty didn't have his innate sense of when to stop.
"Is that a Guild thing? Aren't you allowed to trust anyone when you're an assassin? Is that it? Huh?"
At once, quicker than the eye could discern, and ostensibly faster than the wind itself could blow, The Rogue had whirled round, leapt to her feet, crossed the space between her and the younger girl, throwing her to the hard-packed ground, and had a dagger pressed to her gulping throat, all in the same incongruously elegant, fluid movement. To see such grace juxtaposed with such savagery would have been an awesome sight, if it weren't for the life about to end on the blade gripped in her hand.
"Listen to me carefully." The hooded girl gritted. "Because I'm only gonna say this once."
"Frauline, please." Kurt pleaded. He wasn't bold enough to grab her arm, and knew that even if he had, he probably would have been disembowelled the moment he touched her.
The Rogue either didn't hear him, or deliberately ignored his cries. She bent closer, all but growling in Kitty's scared face. "Haven't you ever wondered *why* I'm called 'The Rogue'? I'll tell you why. If an assassin fails to complete a mission, for whatever reason, then that assassin becomes the next target. They're outcast. Shunned and hunted by the Guild. By their own kind. They're dirt. Nothing. Less than nothing, even. Not even worthy of the name they were given at birth. They run, nameless, until the Guild tracks them down and eliminates them. Either that, or they kill themselves in shame. Too humiliated to stay in the world in which they failed, they choose the cowards' way out and take their own lives. Bleeding to death on their own sword, or else hanging from some remote tree in the middle of nowhere for the crows to pick at.
"You may wonder why I'm telling you all this. I'm telling you to make you understand. I'm called The Rogue because I'm no longer worthy of mah own name. Yet I won't submit to them. I won't go quietly, like a lamb to slaughter. Instead, I choose to fight. I choose to live. I feel no disgrace, and no shame for fleeing from them. That's why I'm *The* Rogue. I'm the only one who ever had the guts to keep going. And I'm gonna keep going until I'm good and ready to stop. But I'm not an assassin anymore. You got that, shrimp? I choose not to trust of my own free will, not because of what I used to be. Not because of what *they* implanted in my mind." She spat the words, flecks of spittle flying into Kitty's terrified face. The smaller adolescent cringed, her visage blanched and wan.
Kurt watched with powerless concern. The Rogue looked so.... so.... he didn't know what it was. Something played about her voice and movements. Something she'd schooled her face not to show. He thought he could detect hurt. Deep-rooted and unequivocal. It was so incongruous he almost lost his words altogether as he wondered what had caused it. What had been said that elicited such hurt?
However, his primary concern was for Kitty, who lay, gasping and weaponless, totally at The Rogue's mercy. The blade slid closer to her neck, and she squeaked in fear. The sound was only small, but it cleaved through Kurt like an arrow. The blade continued its fractional descent, and it seemed The Rogue had lost whatever shreds of mercy remained within her and had decided upon just killing the impertinent girl. Kurt searched desperately for something to say, something he could do to cease its movement.
It came to him in a flash, and he threw into the air the first words that entered his mind.
"Why did you rescue me?"
The dagger stopped. "What did you say?"
"I said," Kurt gulped self-consciously. "Why did you rescue me, Frauline?"
"I didn't."
"Yes.... You did. Twice. You saved me from the chimera. In.... in the quarry, and again in the house."
Silence. No answer. Kurt swallowed nervously. Curse him and his big mouth, now she was probably mad at him too. Just sit still, he told himself. But be ready to run if she snaps.
The Rogue remained immobile. She could have been a statue, for all she moved. Her dagger remained where it was, unwavering. The entire scene became imbued with a certain unreality. A dream-like quality wrought by the furry boy's frantic words.
Why *had* she saved him?
The question whirled in The Rogue's head, buzzing like an angry wasp. Why *had* she saved his life? Especially after she'd been so close to taking it herself earlier. She still remembered the temptation to slit his throat. To draw the steel blade through his fur and let his lifeblood flow free. Her senses tingled at the memory, appealing to her hunter's instincts and tugging at her mind with phantom fingers. You have a victim now, they whispered softly. You can wreak what you lost with him upon her instead. Come on, do it. Do it. One swift cut. A splash of red. Then it'll all be over. For her.
Yet despite these alluring whispers, The Rogue felt torn, and couldn't bring herself to perform the final blow. It wasn't the weakness of mercy by any means, but something else.
Bewilderment.
Bewilderment at her own actions. Emotions she wasn't used to. Incomprehension. Confusion. Perplexity. She'd always prided herself on her clear mind. On knowing herself implacably. All faults, all failings were laid bare to her judicious brain before they had chance to develop into anything more serious. It was how she'd succeeded on missions where so many others had failed, and how she'd survived and kept going when driven from The Guild in disgrace.
So why then couldn't she answer his question? Why was her mind a blank? She'd performed the deeds. She should know the motives behind them. Shouldn't she?
Shouldn't she?
But she didn't. For probably the first time in her one-time illustrious career, The Rogue was at a loss to explain own actions. She remembered everything with crystal clarity. How she'd been caught by a chunk of exploded rock whilst fleeing, and awoken minutes later to discover both elf and chimera gone. She recalled running, following their trail until she came upon them at the quarry. She remembered careering down the slope and leaping onto the beast's back to drive her sword home into its flesh before it pounced on him and ripped him to shreds. But she didn't remember why she'd done it. She'd been the one who initiated fleeing from it, so why had she chosen *that* particular moment to attack? Likewise, she could see in her mind's-eye how she'd run after the elf's injured form into the shrimp's house to encounter the chimera a second time. Everything played out again in her head, a rich tapestry of past colour and movement, yet with no underlying substance. No drive. No.... *motive*.
She tried telling herself she'd only done it because of her own feelings against the chimera, but an element of the words just didn't ring true. No, there was something else. Some inexorable force she couldn't explain, which had caused her to rescue him. Why else had she returned when she'd happened upon that clump of Bellock? She'd meant to keep going, away from the fuzzy burden with his squealing little friend and on with her journey. Alone. It was the perfect opportunity. Yet she'd come back. She'd stopped and *consciously* turned back.
Why?
To that, she had no answer.
She wished her old mentor were here. He'd known her better than even she knew herself. He'd trained her virtually from birth, after all, so he ought to. As a child, she'd been like malleable clay in his capable hands. His to mould in what form he chose. But he'd died many months ago on a mission. A grim reminder of the price of failure - if not by the Guild's hands, then by the hands of a vengeful enemy.
The silence was abruptly broken by Kitty, who - unable to contain herself any longer - unleashed another muted squeak of fear. The Rogue started, blinking her unwanted contemplations back into the crevasses of her mind. Hiding them away. Just like all her memories of....
No! She couldn't think about that anymore. That time was over. Like brittle leaves on a swift Autumn breeze. Gone. Spent.
She straightened up, without warning sheathing the dagger in the small scabbard at her waist.
"I'm leaving now."
"Aber - " Kurt protested. She still hadn't answered his question. But the cloaked girl spun round and made off into the trees without another word. "Hey, wait up Frauline!" He called, and began to bound after her. All at once he halted, a thoughtful expression crossing his furry face.
Kitty was just picking herself up from the floor and dusting off her grimy skirts when a decidedly fuzzy hand thrust itself at her, palm-up. Her eyes slithered up the arm attached to it, coming to rest finally on Kurt's infectious smile and merry eyes.
"Come with us?" He ventured.
"With her!?" Kitty cried, aghast. She didn't need a gesture to signify whom she was referring to, although there were several she had in mind. "Are you, like, mad? Because I think she is!"
Kurt wrinkled his nose. "With *me* then. I'm not really her travelling companion, as you can see. Hey, Frauline, warte auf mich!" The Rogue kept walking, not even acknowledging his shout. He turned back to the brown haired girl sitting before him, hand still outstretched. "Come on, it'll be an adventure. It's a free land. She can't stop us from going to Zanninsa."
"Zanninsa?"
He nodded. "That's where we're going. Come on, you don't exactly have anything here holding you back."
A wry smile hovered about her lips. "I guess not. A house that's gone kablooey really isn't much of a house at all, is it?" She grasped the proffered tridactyl hand. It was warm and soft, and his fur tickled her skin. She repressed a giggle, not wanting to disrespect or offend him. He grinned, revealing wicked fangs.
"It'll be fun. You'll see, Kätzchen."
A puzzled air briefly crossed her sallow face. "What did you just call me?"
"Macht nichts." He chuckled.
Kitty eyed him suspiciously. "Like, whatever."
And they started after the retreating hooded figure, into the night, all the time keeping a safe distance from her itchy blade.
*******************
To Be Continued.....
*******************
TRANSLATIONS:
GERMANIC:
Der Schurke ~ 'The Rogue'
Ich bin hingefallen und habe mir weh getan ~ 'I fell over and hurt myself'
Frech ~ 'Cheeky'
Nein! Es ist urkomisch! ~ 'No! It's hilarious!'
Aber ~ 'But'
Warte auf mich! ~ 'Wait for me!'