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: MyPlague, yes I *did* create Gehin solely for use in this fic. It can be derived from various languages I've studied over the years, including German, French, Russian, Portuguese and a smattering of Japanese (that's what comes of having your school change into to a language college right beneath your feet.) I don't really remember much of what I studied, but I still have the dictionaries, and the grammar was hammered into me so hard I can still feel the spot where the nail went in. Ooch! Lyra, glad to have amused you. I must say, that line made me laugh even as I typed it. ^_^
This chapter is basically the point at which the main body of the story comes into play, so keep your eyes peeled, k?
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'Of Beast And Blade' By Scribbler
Chapter Four ~ 'Escape'
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'Painful as it may be, a significant emotional event can be the catalyst for choosing a direction that serves us -- and those around us -- more effectively. Look for the learning.' -- Eric Allenbaugh
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"Yept! They found us!" Logan growled.
Kitty whimpered. "What do we do?"
Rogue glanced at the elf, curled into a foetal position on the ground, shuddering softly with muted sobs. His eyes were closed, and had it not been for the spasms erratically wracking his slender frame one might have thought he was only sleeping.
"We need to get outta here, now!" she stated fiercely.
"Kid, we can take 'em - " Logan began, but his former pupil cut him off.
"*We* may be able to, but *they* can't," she gestured to the two younger adolescents. "Besides, we don't even know how many of them there are. First rule you ever taught me; know your enemy."
Logan looked as if he was about to argue, but instead he set his jaw and nodded. Rogue hastily cast about the dark room. Damn! There was no exit other than the one the innkeeper's son and his posse were approaching.
Kitty watched her through agitated blue eyes, making the connection between the older girl's movements and their predicament.
"There's no way out, is there? We're, like, trapped."
"Not necessarily," Logan smiled. A small, somewhat irreverent smile, like he knew a secret he wasn't telling. "Second rule I taught ya, kid - if caught, improvise."
Both Kitty and Rogue looked confused. Even more so when the cloaked man walked sedately over to the rear wall. He acted nonchalantly. Infuriatingly so. Didn't he know there were people coming? People who would kill them and bring their heads back on pikes as proof without so much as a second thought. How could he act so calm at a time like this?
Logan promptly answered their silent question. A loud 'shink' of scraping metal reverberated around the cramped room, and he raised a fist above his head. In between each of his knuckles was a long, wickedly sharp blade, strangely devoid of blood considering they'd just exited his flesh. The unbreakable claws that defined his ancient race.
"Wolverinnen...." Kitty breathed in amazement. She couldn't believe it. She'd thought they were only a myth. But her awed whisper was lost in the sound of crumbling bricks and mortar, as with one fluid movement Logan shoved his blades right though the wall. The dilapidated stonework crumbled like pastry, leaving a large hole where solid partition once stood.
Logan glanced over his shoulder. "Presto. Instant exit."
Rogue didn't waste any time. Pulling up her hood, and with a brisk: "Move" to Kitty, she slung the elf's still incapacitated-by-weeping form over her shoulder and sped out of the makeshift door. Kitty followed, hustled along ungraciously by Logan, and the four of them ran down the darkened street like a pack of hellhounds were snapping at their heels.
When they were several streets away, Logan's sensitive ears picked up an incensed shout from the building they'd just vacated. He would have smiled, but his indignance at fleeing overruled his capacity to show pleasure. He couldn't understand why they were running away like cowards. He *knew* he and the kid could take them. Hell, he'd *trained* her. She'd been his best student. She could probably take that whole sorry bunch out by herself if she wanted to. It wasn't as if they were armed enough to pose much of a threat to a skilled assassin. Bludgeons, torches, a couple of rusty blades - he'd smelled them when they were still in the building. Nothing she couldn't handle.
Yet she'd run. The pupil he'd known never would have done that. Then again, neither would she have taken a couple of superfluous brats with her either. That was compassionate. The girl he'd known didn't *do* compassion.
They rounded a corner, stampeding down the relatively silent street in a broken single-file. Logan glanced behind them. He'd heard another shout from their pursuers that sounded distinctly like; "They went that way! Let's get 'em!" He transferred his gaze back to Rogue, pelting ahead of them at the front of their straggly line. This was all well and good, but where exactly did she expect to go? Half the city knew her face by now. He knew this place better than she did. He knew precisely where they should go, and the least populated route to get there.
"Kid!" he called mutedly, taking a tremendous risk by raising his voice for her to hear. "Kid, wait!"
Rogue skidded to a stop. "What?"
"I got an idea. Go left and do exactly what I tell ya."
She complied, and via a barrage of directions from her former mentor, the unusual party soon found themselves at the edge of Cheapside. Here they halted, deciding what to do next.
The street they were in was largely abandoned, with only a few tumbledown dwellings a little further up that the poorer members of Zanninsan society resided in. Logan hustled them all into the lee of one such abandoned construction, which afforded them slight cover behind the veritable mountain of garbage piled around it.
"So what's this plan?" Rogue demanded.
"First things first," Logan replied. "There's some things you gotta know about. I've been waitin' to tell you for months. I ain't gonna let some poxy wannabe bounty-hunters stop me now."
Kitty stared at him, her aghast expression concealed by darkness. Here they were, hiding from folks who wanted to *kill* them, and he wanted to *talk*? She began to seriously doubt the sanity of anyone called 'ex-assassin'.
Logan leaned in close, voice dropping to a low whisper, emphasising every point he made with a wave of the metal claws he had yet to retract back into his body. "Listen close, 'cause I ain't gonna say this twice. It's about The Silver Sword. When the council was still thinkin' about allying the Guild with him, I found out about a few things I'd rather not have known, and which proved to be the final straw in their decision to get rid of me. I knew too much. Rumour had it that he was messin' with powerful magic, tryin' to control it himself. I don't know if it was successful, but I do know what it meant for the rest of the lands. You may've noticed that strange things have been happenin' lately. Weird weather patterns, animals behaving oddly, stuff like that. It's all outta whack."
Rogue nodded, thinking of the chimera and its unusual behaviour. ~The shrimp said chimeras are pack animals, and live deeper in the Black Forest than where we found it. I wonder, could that be connected to what Logan says?~
He continued, unabated. "There's even been tell of traits from other races turning up in *humans* of all things. Perfectly normal people suddenly finding they can do extraordinary things. A few weeks ago I came across a guy right here in the city that could fly. Levitate himself clean off the ground. There's been a lot of gossip about similar incidents all over the different lands. They've even got their own name now; Changelings."
Kitty gasped, and clamped her hands over her mouth. "M... me," was all she could stammer. "That's just like what happened to me! I'm a... a... Changeling!"
Logan grunted. "See what I mean? And it's getting' worse. Changelings poppin' up all over the place, docile beasts goin' wild and killing everything in sight, storm-clouds raining in the desert. It's like the fibres of the universe are changin' somehow. And I reckon - no matter what anybody else says - it can all be traced back to The Silver Sword. It *has* to be."
"So what are ya'll telling me this for?" Rogue asked impatiently. Couldn't he just get to the bit involving this 'plan' of his?
"'Cause it's all stuff you need to know, kid. You have to be aware of what's out there when you're travellin'. Earth-Realm's alterin' right under our noses, and if we wanna stay alive in it then we gotta know what's goin' on. Third rule I taught you; adapt to survive."
"And where exactly will I be travelling to? Unless you hadn't noticed, there's a price on my head bigger than a king's ransom. Every Tom, Dick and Harry around wants a piece of me now," Rogue pointed out in an exasperated tone.
By contrast, Logan was gallingly calm. "You're gonna get your ass to Belvedere."
Rogue very nearly exploded. "Belvedere? You expect me to just walk right in to The Silver Sword's stronghold? Why would I do that? I didn't stay alive this long just to go on some crazy kamikaze mission you cooked up."
Logan's composed façade didn't slip an inch. "Something big's goin' down there, and whatever it is, it's happenin' soon."
"So why send me?"
"Because I know you'll wanna go."
"What makes you think that?"
"Because Pietro's there."
A piercing arrow, tip dipped in venom, speared Rogue's chest as his callous words found their mark.
Pietro?
Kitty stole a look at Rogue's face in the moonlight. The older girl looked like a herd of stampeding cattle had just run her down. Her mouth hung slightly open, and her harsh green eyes had taken on a glazed appearance, like that of one in a dream. In all, she seemed shell-shocked. An expression that the young Changeling found simultaneously intriguing and chilling.
Logan suddenly raised his head. Kitty could have sworn she saw his ears twitch, and he turned back to the trio of youngsters, dark eyes serious.
"They're comin', and they've got others with 'em. Lots."
Rogue seemed incapable of answering, so Kitty did it for her. "How many"
"Enough."
"What should we do?"
"Get to the Western Gate like the kid said. Get out of Zanninsa as soon as you can. Bribe the Gatekeeper if you have to, and if he won't take it then...." he raised his claws, not needing words to make his meaning clear. Kitty gulped and nodded, more out of fear than actual concurrence.
"I understand."
"Kid," he transferred his attention back to the stunned Rogue. "Kid, listen to me. This is real important. Promise me you'll go to Belvedere. Got it? Promise me."
For a moment she didn't move, then her eyelids blinked, and she slid back into the world of the waking again. "I promise. But Logan, aren't you coming too?"
"Nuh-uh. I'm gonna draw those guys off, give you a chance to get away."
She leaned forward and said earnestly. "Logan, come with us."
He shook his head. "No, kid. Not this time. You go on. I'll cover your back."
"But - " she began.
He stood up, effectively cutting her off. "I said no, kid. You need a diversion, and since neither of these two would last more then five seconds against that crowd, I'm it." He waved a callous claw at Kitty and Kurt, who was curled up on the floor where Rogue had dumped him upon arrival, silently crying. It was a wonder how he had any tears left now.
Rogue stared up at the abrasive man. The man who had essentially raised her, trained her, made her who she was today. "Thank you."
"Xopomo." With that, he turned to go.
Rogue stood, making to heft the elf back onto her shoulder again, when suddenly Logan swivelled back to look at her. His face was inquisitive as he remembered something he'd seen earlier. Something that had bothered him, but which had never come up in conversation. His gaze fell upon her boot, where a certain telltale bulge should have been present, but wasn't.
"Where's your knife?"
"Lost it on a chimera."
Logan rolled his eyes heavenwards. "You're slippin'. Here, take this." Grabbing her arm, he pressed something into her hand.
Rogue stared down at the small blade in her palm, perfectly cut and honed to a wafer-thin edge that could cut steel without the bearer even breaking into a sweat. At the hilt, the snarling muzzle of a wolverine had been fashioned, so intricately detailed that one could almost believe its slavering jaws would clamp down on any fingers that strayed too close. Polished metal was its coarse fur, blood-red rubies its burning eyes. She gaped at it.
"Your hunting knife? Logan, I can't take this."
"Like I really need it," he shot back, flexing his hand and claws to illustrate his point. "I only kept it around for decoration. You'll make much better use of it then I ever could. Now go!"
Rogue stared at him a moment longer, and then - with an obedience reminiscent of her days as his pupil - collected the elf on her shoulder, mumbling to Kitty: "Let's go," before moving out.
Logan watched her go. Unbidden, an old Gehín farewell sprang to his lips. "Gah lej, gah kef, vinel euhr Harun dim tageth."
Rogue heard his words, but her steps didn't falter. She didn't turn back. She didn't acknowledge him. With practised ease her ice-queen exterior slid into place, and to all who saw her it was as though he meant nothing. Nothing at all. She couldn't care less that he was taking the brunt of what was meant for her. She was The Rogue. Such things were meaningless and trivial - beneath her concern. She didn't care.
Kitty scuttled after the striding girl, chancing a glance at Logan before following her into the unknown, hostile night.
The Wolverinnen stood, until he could see them no more. The sounds of their pursuers rang in his sensitive ears. They were getting closer, but no matter. He could easily deal with them.
His fighter's spirit, unlike that of a normal assassin, had been borne to him down through the ages from his ancestors far in the dim and distant past, and now it positively simmered at the prospect of a good fight. It had been so long. He was going to enjoy this. And afterwards, he'd leave the city. Go south where he'd heard tell of a resistance group against the creeping power of The Silver Sword. They could probably find a use for someone like him.
For now, however, there was combat at hand, and he'd be damned if he was going to miss a single second of it.
Logan spun on his heel, leaping out from behind the pile of wastage and speeding down the street where he could hear the clumsy battle cries of the innkeeper's son and his band of hastily recruited and untrained seekers. ~Let them try their luck at a *real* hunter,~ he grinned.
Oh yes, he was going to enjoy this.
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Kitty pattered after Rogue, stumbling over mounds of unidentifiable garbage in the inky darkness as she tried to keep up. Kurt hung uselessly across the former assassin's shoulder, hands trailing, not even attempting to steady himself on his precarious perch. Intermittently she could hear him mumbling, though she couldn't understand what he said.
"Warum taten sie es? Warum? Ich könnte Ihnen geholfen haben. Warum sendeten Sie mich weg? Sie wußten, daß sie kamen, und doch Sie mich weg sendeten."
He sounded so pathetic, and her heart wrenched in her chest. She knew the pain of losing someone you loved - two someones in fact. It was the worst kind of pain imaginable by a mortal. Worse than actual, physical agony, because that abated after a while. Loss was intangible, and all the more potent for it.
They reached the end of the street and turned onto a busier one. 'Das Rückenhaus' flashed past, gaudy music blaring from the doorway and dancing girls still prancing scantily within.
There were more people on the streets now as the city slowly began to waken. Not enough to form any sort of a crowd, but enough to worry Kitty about being spotted and recognised.
The trio snaked through the alleyways, leaving Cheapside far behind them and journeying into the more affluent areas of Zanninsa.
At a set of crossroads Rogue paused, delineating which way to go. Kitty took the opportunity to draw as close she dared and whisper angrily in the older girl's ear. "What about Mr. Logan?"
"What about him?" Rogue muttered.
Kitty scowled. "You can't just leave him here to fight them alone. He's outnumbered."
"Watch me."
Any hint of emotion she'd shown before had now vanished. Swallowed by the void of her own cruel indifference. Her face was set, her manner cold. Kitty positively fumed. Rogue obviously had an attachment to the Wolverinnen, yet here she was abandoning him to the mob that was meant for herself just to save her own skin. It was heartless. More than that, it was disgustingly cowardly. Her lip inadvertently curled into a sneer of antipathy.
Rogue didn't even turn her head. "If ya'll don't like it then leave. *You* go fight with him if it means that much to ya. If not, then I'm going this way." She sped off down the street to her right.
Kitty stood for a moment, torn. Then after a moment's hesitation she followed. Much as she hated to do it, she wasn't going to leave poor, broken Kurt to the ex-assassin's 'tender mercies'.
The sky overhead was lightening, changing from murky black to dark blue. Morning approached, and with it the chance of discovery. Rogue doubled her pace, streaking through the various boulevards like a bolt of cloaked lightning. Kitty puffed and panted behind her.
The older female glanced around at the buildings they passed. Yes, she remembered this locale. They were nearing the Western Gate, and freedom
~Not far now,~ she thought grimly, and then halted - forced to discontinue her mad flight by what she saw before her. Kitty reached her side seconds later, wondering why they'd stopped. She didn't have to wonder for long.
Stretched across the mouth of the street was a group of men, each bearing a weapon or some item of paraphernalia that could serve as such in a pinch. They were for the most part all burly, well-built characters, with a smattering of scars and healed broken noses between them. Each bore an ugly, covetous expression on his face, and leered menacingly at the two girls and incapacitated elf.
"Yept!" Rogue growled under her breath.
A figure peeled off from the main body of thugs. Unlike them he was thin and spindly, with sharply cut features and an avaricious smirk on his lips. His mop of ginger hair appeared blood red in the fading moonlight. Beyond him they could see the tall Western Gates rising in the white of the city wall.
"Ye didn't be thinkin' we'd let ye go now, did ye?" asked the innkeeper's son mockingly. "Ah knew ye'd try an' reach the Western Gate. That be why ah left some o' our lot t'deal with yer friend. Fer such a famous wench, ye sure don't be a smart 'un."
Kitty blinked as Rogue's voice, barely audible, slithered into her ear. Not even the barest movement of her head betrayed that she was speaking, and the shadows of her hood concealed her mouth. "When I give the word, run down the passageway to your left. No, don't look. It's real small, so you'll have to be careful ya'll don't miss it."
The innkeeper's son smiled gleefully in anticipation. That ransom was his. Unbeknownst to the brawny fellows he'd coerced into helping him retrieve the outlaw, he had no intention of sharing the reward with anyone of them, and was even considering keeping it from his father. With money like that he could get away from this stinking city. Start a new life somewhere else, perhaps with a bar if his own. He'd always fancied having dancing girls - in more ways than one.
His grin widened. He took a step forward, and his gang did likewise.
"Now!" Rogue hissed.
Wordlessly, the two girls whipped round and pelted into the practically invisible passageway sandwiched between two houses.
The innkeeper's son gave an angry cry and the mob rushed forward after them, but found that the narrowness of the corridor forced them into single file, hindering their speed considerably as their wide shoulders invariably became wedged between the moss-covered walls.
The ginger-haired man cried out as he was squashed between two of his considerably bigger comrades. "Git offa me, big idjits! They be getting' away! Move it!"
"But ah'm stuck," protested the man in front of him. The innkeeper's son brought his leg back as best he could in the small space and savagely kicked him in the leg.
"Did ah ask fer excuses? They not be givin' out rewards fer us *almost* getting' the girl. Move yer arse!"
Kitty and Rogue pelted down the passage as fast as their legs could take them, the indignant cries of their pursuers hot on their heels. Kitty was in front, and came to the end of the alley first, pausing momentarily as she flew out onto an unfamiliar street. Rogue blew past, undaunted, catching her arm and dragging her unceremoniously behind.
"Come on! This way!"
The two girls ran for all they were worth, conscious of the fact that the innkeeper's son would probably have stationed more of his goons at the Western Gate itself. For the moment though, flight was all that concerned their minds. The problem of actually getting out through the gate would have to wait until they got there.
Kitty's lungs burned as she fought for breath. Never had she run so fast in all her life. Her body had been strengthened by a lifetime of working the soil outside her home, but she wasn't built for exertions such as extended running. Rogue gripped her wrist with a grasp of iron, and the brown haired girl was sure that without this physical contact, she would surely have been left behind long ago.
The street they were on was much busier then any other they had previously been privy to. Several horses could been seen pacing the cobbles, the metallic clop of their hooves ringing out like onerous bells, and people of all shapes and sizes were bustling out of their modest houses and throwing open the shutters to their windows high above.
A rider atop one bay mount cursed the fleeing females as they dashed past, spooking his horse almost to the point of bolting. He waved a fist at them, but they paid him no heed. Now was not the time to be worrying about petty insults from an insignificant passer-by.
Rogue yanked Kitty with her across the active road, avoiding horses and the odd rickshaw with adept effortlessness, and making it to the other side without a scratch. There they halted for a second, before the older girl cried out again.
"This way!"
They turned left and followed the street for many metres. Kitty stared about her, fearful of being seen in such an open place. Would those thugs be bothered about acting in a public setting? Somehow she doubted it, and found no solace in the crowd rapidly surrounding them.
Kurt thumped against Rogue's armour, but didn't once cry out. Kitty wondered if he was still conscious. It couldn't be good for him to keep hitting his head that way, could it?
Yet there was no time for her to ponder these musings, as Rogue abruptly hauled her into a small side street. It wasn't as close or cramped as the alleys of Cheapside, but somehow this didn't alleviate Kitty's fears much.
~Why is she going, like, away from the main road? I'm sure this isn't, like, the way to the Western Gate. We're going in, like, totally the wrong direction!~
However, Rogue knew exactly what she was doing. True they were going the wrong way at present, but she had in mind an idea so crazy, it might just work, and provide them with a quicker route than if they'd stayed on the streets.
Kitty was more than a little aggravated when they stopped outside a ramshackle house a short way down the street. However, this quickly transformed into disquiet as the former assassin proceeded to kick in the door to the building. She used such force that the wood - already considerably weakened by age - splintered and cracked into a convoluted lattice of splits fanning out around the imprint of her boot.
"What are you, like, *doing*?" the Changeling demanded.
"Staying alive," was the offhand reply.
"But this is, like, somebody's house!" Kitty refused to let the matter rest.
Rogue turned to her, eyes glinting dangerously out of the shadows cast by her deep hood. "Do ya'll wanna survive or not?" she exacted softly. Kitty perceptibly started, then nodded dumbly. "Well then get your ass in there and quit complaining!"
With that, she disappeared inside the building, leaving Kitty to follow like a ghost.
The pair found themselves inside what was - for the area - a good-sized room, strewn here and there with straw, and with a large wooden table set up alongside one wall.
There were no chairs - that would have been an expensive luxury. Rather, upended barrels served as seating, with an old odorous fishing net, gleaned from a traveller at half price because of its maturity and brokenness, draped about it to dilute the stench of old hops. The combined smell was only marginally better, and caught in Kitty's throat like a choking fog. She was almost glad when Rogue led her up a flight of creaking stairs in the centre of the room. However, some small, argumentative part of her balked at what they were doing.
"We can't go up here!" she protested weakly, knowing that her remonstrations were only falling on deaf ears, but unable to prevent herself from uttering them anyway. "These people might be, like, upstairs! This is breaking and entering."
~What am I saying? This is The Rogue I'm talking to. A trained murderer. She's probably done stuff like this since, like, forever. And worse besides. What difference would another one make to her record?~
They came to a poky landing, bordering which was a single battered door. Rogue leaned on the opposite wall, crushing Kurt slightly, but she didn't seem that bothered about how uncomfortable he was. She raised one leg and, with a power not usually found in females, kicked at the door. Her strength was such that it flew clean off its hinges, sailing a few feet into the room beyond to land with a clatter on the floorboards.
Two figures in the bed within sat up in alarm as the two runaways strode into the room. Well, that is to say, Rogue strode in. Kitty pattered embarrassedly after her, and Kurt hung limply from the taller girl's shoulder. Kitty glanced at the scared couple, throwing them an apologetic glance, and blushing beet red at the compromising state they were in.
Brazenly, Rogue stalked over to the window, which was a modest construction made with glass. These people obviously had some amount of money to afford such a comfort, or else they had inherited the house off someone who did, which seemed the more likely scenario after the meagre shape of affairs downstairs.
Rogue unceremoniously dumped Kurt on the floor and flung open the glass and shutters. Outside was a spectacular - if not exactly awe-inspiring - view of the somewhat squalid, flat-topped houses of Zanninsa. They stretched as far as the naked eye could see in every direction, and beyond them was a sight that caused Kitty's heart to leap in her chest.
"The Western Gate," she breathed, relief tincturing her voice. Salvation. Escape. Then her brow furrowed. ~But how to get to it?~
The man in the bed sat up a little straighter, trying to appear serious and dignified despite his lack of raiment. When he spoke his tone was full of forced authority, but it wobbled a little, ruining the illusion.
"Who... who are you people? What do you want?"
Rogue didn't even grace him with an answer. Instead, she crouched next to Kurt's inert form, shaking him gently by the shoulder.
"Fuzzy? Hey, elf?" Curiously her tone was less harsh than before, though not exactly soft. "Ya'll are gonna have to get up now."
Kurt stirred, the movement scarcely detectable. "Warum tat sie es?" he mumbled.
"Elf, haben Sie sich zu bewegen. Hier zu bleiben ist nicht sicher, und ich kann nicht Sie jetzt tragen," Rogue said in fluent Germanic. Kurt opened his golden eyes and looked soulfully up at her. The sadness there was enough to melt the hardest of hearts.
Except for Rogue's. Hers was a heart harder than stone and twice as cold.
"Wohin gehen wir?" Kurt asked.
Rogue gestured to the open window. "Draußen. Die einzige Weise können wir gehen."
Kitty didn't understand what passed between them, but she understood perfectly what Rogue meant.
"Oh no! No way am I doing that!" she cried, taking a step backwards. In a flash, Rogue was up and Kitty found herself with her back pressed against the wall, a dagger held close to her bobbing throat.
"You'll do what I say, or die," was the gritted command.
Unable to nod and finding that her voice had suddenly left her, Kitty could only stare at the older girl, hoping her eyes would say what she wanted to hear.
Apparently they did, as Rogue abruptly released the Changeling, returning her attention to the furry boy sitting up on the floor.
"Herauf!" she ordered in a manner that brooked no argument.
Kurt complied, going to the window and staring out. Outside was a narrow ledge, barely eight inches wide, and attached to the brickwork a few feet to the right of the aperture was a long, horizontal flagpole, used to hang the relevant flag when a noble or some such aristocrat's parade came to Zanninsa. There was another, similar one on the opposite building too, but it was lower due to the fact that the house itself was shorter than the one in which they now stood. The space between the ledge and the next house was several feet, although it seemed more by way of the long drop to the garbage-littered ground below.
Kurt gauged the distance, and hopped onto the windowsill with feline grace. Kitty stared, wide-eyed, as he dropped onto the ledge, steadying himself by gripping the window frame until he got his balance.
To anyone watching, what happened next would have been enough to either drive them to drink, or else turn them off it forever. A slender, demonic figure covered in blue fur and wearing typical male peasant clothing leaped from the ledge of one building, sailing through the early-morning air to land, monkey-like, on the opposing rooftop. Closely following this, another individual dressed in a flowing cloak and resembling the Spirit of Death himself made the jump, to land with equal polish next to the demon.
Kitty lowered herself onto the ledge, thankful that the couple in the bed were too afraid and embarrassed to try and stop them. She stared across the gap, gulping profusely. It sure looked a lot wider from here than when she was looking at it from inside. Subconsciously she clutched the window frame, her knuckles bleaching. A cold bead of sweat ran from her temple, down her face to drip off her chin, falling into the chasm below. She watched it plummet, a cold knot of fear manifesting in her gut.
~Like, one wrong move and that could be me,~ she thought.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, the slender girl released the frame and prepared to leap, just as she'd seen Rogue do. Of course, she'd seen Kurt do it too, but somehow she doubted her all too human limbs could quite manage what his could. Her muscles tensed, ready to spring. She focused hard getting enough power to cross, and....
"Hey you! Stop right there!"
A hand jutted from the window behind her, grabbing her shoulder and yanking her backwards. Too late! Her jump was already taking her forward, and the man's hold was clumsy thanks to the sheet he clutched haphazardly around his waist. Kitty wrenched from his clasp to go flying out across the manmade rift, but his unexpected action had thrown her off-balance. There wasn't enough clout to her jump - she wasn't going to make it! Desperately she windmilled her arms, as if by doing so she could somehow fly all the way.
No such luck. She fell only a few inches short, but it was enough. Frantically she flung out her arms, catching the edge of the opposite rooftop with her fingertips and clinging on for dear life. She hung there, helpless as a rag-doll, buffeted by the breeze and conscious of the fact that at any moment she could be spotted by some keen-eyed passer-by, or worse....
~Oh gods, I'm slipping,~ she mentally cried out, voice deserting her. Her sweaty fingers slid slowly, painfully, over the coarse surface of the brickwork. A high, feminine gasp sounded out behind her as the woman from the bed joined her partner in watching the young girl who'd invaded their bedroom dangle precariously from her purchase. ~I'm gonna die. Oh, Mama, Papa! Help me!~
"I have you, Kätzchen. Hold on!"
Kitty opened her eyes, not even realizing until then that they were squeezed shut in fear. The cool air stung her eyeballs, and salty water dribbled down her cheeks - though from fear or irritation she couldn't tell. Desperately she clung on, but could feel herself slipping a little more with every passing moment.
A hollow thump sounded nearby. Absently, Kitty's mind wondered what it was, but the musing was overruled by the intense angst fogging her senses. She was almost surprised when something warm and furry grasped her around her waist.
Chancing a look sideways, she saw a familiar blue form balanced on the horizontal flagpole. He wobbled on two legs, using his tail wrapped around it to maintain some sort of equilibrium. His hands were clasped around her midriff, pushing and straining to lever her up so that she may get a better grip of the rooftop and haul herself over.
Through the miasma blurring her mind, a single word found its way to Kitty's mouth, and she spoke it with the incredulity of one who has resigned themselves to death, only to be torn from its dark grasp at the last second.
"Kurt?"
"Hang on!" he endeavoured to shove her further upwards, and for a second it seemed to be working. Kitty shifted her grip, grappling to gain more ground and drag herself up.
But then Fate stepped into the fray, and as we all know, Fate is a fickle mistress.
One of the bricks Kitty was holding onto suddenly began to crumble and come away from the wall. Frantically the young girl struggled to keep hold of it, but this only served to detach it faster, and it separated in a flurry of dust and powder that rained down on her face, making her cough and retch.
Kurt grunted and quivered unsteadily on his roost as Kitty abruptly found herself swinging perilously by one hand. All the progress she'd just made lost, the brown haired girl coughed violently as brick-dust filled her mouth, nose and throat. Her body shook with every spasm, rendering her closer and closer to falling, but she couldn't stop. Her body's natural reflexes kept her spluttering until finally....
"Kätzchen!" Kurt yelled distraughtly as what little grip Kitty had slipped, and she fell. He nearly plummeted too as her slender body was ripped from his grasp, and could do nothing but helplessly shout her name.
In that moment Kitty felt nothing. Her senses became numb the nanosecond her hold failed. She was going to die. A simple fact. Irrevocable. It was as if her mind had shut down in the face of such an ultimate and unalterable fact. There was no point in screaming or flailing her limbs. She was going to perish below, and nothing now could stop her from being dashed on the cobbles like a fledgling fallen from its nest. Nothing....
Something hard grabbed her wrist in an iron grip. A steel-trap, closing about her flesh. Metal dug into her skin, yanking and pulling until she felt her arm must be pulled from its socket. The cold, harsh clinch of Death.
No, not Death. But close. Kitty stared up with blank, flaccid eyes. Up into the face of a most unlikely saviour.
Rogue's hood had fallen back as she rushed forward, exposing her coveted face for the world to see. Her oddly coloured tresses whipped about her skull into a wild halo of hair, giving the impression of a demonic angel. Her expression was set, but strained as she heaved at the younger girl's limp body, hauling her back from the brink of oblivion with strength incongruous to her feminine form. Her hands, covered in armoured-gloves, bit into Kitty's skin, reminding her that she was not yet dead, that she was alive, and willing to fight to keep this life she yet possessed.
With renewed vigour, Kitty toiled to pull herself over the edge of the rooftop, and with the addition of Rogue's strength, succeeded in gaining enough of a grip to roll over the precipice and lie, gasping, on its flat surface.
Kurt bounded over too, and crouched beside her, concerned.
"Kätzchen, are you OK? Speak to me."
"I'm....||gasp||....fine," Kitty wheezed. "Just a little, like....||gasp||....shook up."
"Come on," Rogue's harsh voice cut through the gladness sweeping over the two of them at Kitty's miraculous escape from death. "We gotta keep moving. We got a few more rooftops before we're at the Western Gate."
"Can't...." Kitty panted. ".... Can't jump ||gasp|| any more."
Rogue uttered what could be best described as an exasperated groan, and stalked over to the collapsed girl.
"Können Sie sie anheben?" she rapped out.
"Nicht alleine," replied Kurt.
"Zusammen dann."
With a brief nod of agreement, the elf and ex-assassin lifted Kitty up between them, pausing only long enough to get a firm grip on her thin body. Then they ran without hesitation towards the opposite edge of the rooftop, leaping off it into the mysterious beyond.
Kitty didn't even have time enough to yelp, for they touched down with a jolt, and carried on running with practised ease, as if they leaped from rooftop to rooftop in the semidarkness all the time. Certainly, the speed they attained would seem to allude to it, and in virtually no time at all they were mere feet away from the Western Gate. All that stood between them and it was a drop to the ground and a sprint across a patch of open courtyard to the Gatekeeper's Booth.
"Ya'll can make it to the floor?" Rogue asked. She wasn't even breathing hard from the exertion.
"Ja," Kurt answered, glancing over the edge. In a few short bounds he'd leaped from the roof, swung from a windowsill and alighted nimbly on the cobbles. He looked up at the two girls.
"Ya'll are next," ordered Rogue, setting Kitty roughly on her feet again.
"What?" Kitty exclaimed. "Excuse me, but if you hadn't, like, noticed, I can*not* do stuff like that! I nearly killed myself last - " she uttered no more words, as Rogue shoved her hard in the chest, sending her toppling over the edge of their perch to plummet... straight into Kurt's waiting arms.
"Do not worry, Frauline. I have you," he assured her, as she clutched a handful of his fur in shock, pulling it out by the roots and making him wince.
"She...she...did she just..." Kitty stuttered, stomach rejoining her with a lurch, having been left behind somewhere en route to the ground.
"Yeah, *she* did," Rogue retorted, landing beside them. Her manners were brisk, her words sharp, and she paid the pair of them no more than a passing glance before striding off towards the Gatekeeper's booth.
Embarrassed and angry, Kitty scrambled out of Kurt's arms and they tagged along at her heels like a couple of faithful hounds. Kitty's nature balked at this obsequious behaviour, but one glance at Kurt's drawn, submissive face told her it was best to comply for the moment, if just for his sake whilst he chose to remain in the rude girl's company.
They'd crossed no more than half the courtyard when the first missile struck. A knife, rusty with age and disuse, and displaying none of the care and attention obviously lavished on both Rogue and Logan's weapons, clattered point-first into the cobbles mere inches from Kurt's bare feet.
The trio whirled round, and Kitty ducked as a sizable rock flew past, aimed at her head. From out of the shadows came the innkeeper's son's men, howling chaotic battle cries, the thrill of the chase in them. As predicted, they'd been sent on ahead of their leader to lie in wait for their quarry should she, by some unlucky turn, escape his grasp.
Rogue drew her sword and adopted a battle stance in front of the elf and Changeling. She was sick of running now, and wanted nothing more than to finish these insolent, arrogant wretches who thought they could capture her so easily. Who did they think they were, anyway? She wasn't some common or garden criminal, easy prey for any vigilante who decided to take a shot at her. She was The Rogue. That fact in itself proof of her resilience and determination to stay alive.
The crowd of men surged towards her, shouting and laughing in equal measure, none of them truly realising the calibre of whom they were chasing. A few of them flung missiles at her, which she adroitly dodged without so much as moving her feet, but most kept their weapons in hand, readying them for close-quarters combat.
Rogue shifted her grip on the handle of her blade, singling out with her eyes a likely looking target like she'd been taught to, and making the split-second calculation on how best to lop off his head and use the force of the blow to slay the man behind him too. Closer and closer they came, until she could see the whites of their eyes, wide and staring with the primordial exhilaration of the hunt, awaked after years of stifling city life.
Suddenly a hand lay gently on her arm, and such was her tension that she almost spun round to stab its owner. However, in the nick of time she caught herself, which was lucky because the owner was Kurt. He gazed at her through soulful eyes, the colour of liquid honey, made sour by the mould of intense pain.
"Please, no more death," he pleaded, voice no more than a whisper.
Rogue stared at him, emotions grappling inside her at the sight of those golden orbs. Vicarious misery clashed with the intrinsic bloodlust coursing through her veins, creating a maelstrom of conflicting thoughts and feelings that tolled within her like a knell.
This severe personal battle lasted only a second to the outside world, and even as the clash flickered briefly behind her green eyes, she was already turning and running away from the advancing mob.
Kitty and Kurt also turned and fled, the frenzied cries of their pursuers ringing in their ears. The Zanninsan men whooped, courage increasing a thousandfold at the sight of their fleeing backs, and they increased their pace.
"Lookit, they be runnin'!" one yelled.
"Get 'em!" screeched another. "Knock 'em down, kill 'em!"
"Stab they hides an' slit they gizzards! Gouge out they eyes and feed 'em t'crows fer brekkist! Make 'em beg fer mercy, mates!" boomed yet another, brandishing a fire-poker like a pike.
Rogue gritted her teeth, fighting the urge to spin round and plunge amongst them, ripping and stabbing until not one of them could jeer any more. Her sword was still drawn, and she ran with it held tightly in one hand, pallid sunlight from the looming dawn glinting off it where - rightfully, in her mind - blood should have been adding its own crimson sheen to the metal.
Yet it seemed their flight was in vain, for at that moment the men they'd left wedged in the alley appeared, blocking their way to the booth and freedom. A familiar redheaded figure was at their helm.
Rogue and her companions banked a sharp left, shooting through a gap between two nearby hovels and running alongside the city wall in an effort to lose them and double back towards the gates. But it was no use. It seemed they were surrounded, hemmed in on every side. Armed men - many more than she'd first thought - poured from everywhere, barring all exits and closing the circle around the three escapees until they found themselves pressed against the cracked, white surface of the wall.
They were trapped.
Rogue extended her sword, stepping in front of the other two. She risked a glance over her shoulder at Kurt. One that only he could see, and had he not known better or been a little more perceiving at that moment, then he could have sworn that there was something akin to contrition in her eyes. Then she swivelled back to face her opponents, a snarl tugging at the corners of her mouth. Let them just try to take her down!
Kitty cowered behind Rogue's sturdy frame, cursing herself for their predicament. It was all her fault. If she'd made that jump properly then they would have been here sooner, before the innkeeper's son arrived to cut off their retreat. It was all her fault. They were going to die because of her. Rogue and Kurt. Skewered on the blades of this howling mob and paraded around as carcasses for the world to gawk at. A solitary tear trickled down her cheek, tracing a path through the grime.
~I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry.~
All at once, a strange feeling came over the blue-eyed girl. Like sensation, yet not. It immersed her being in a tangible nothingness, wrapping around her limbs and spreading across her skin like invisible, licking flames. She felt light. Weightless. Like air. It was frighteningly alien, but concurrently, very familiar.
She recognised it in an instant.
Rogue gave a startled; "Wha-" as suddenly, Kitty grabbed hold of her arm. Likewise Kurt didn't know quite what the younger girl was doing, until he felt the familiar nothingness wash over him. The same nothingness as had permeated him back at Kitty's house. He leant back, realising what the Changeling was trying to do, and aiding her the best he could to do it.
As one, the trio literally sank into the wall, disappearing from view moments before the first of the mob reached them, leaving the men to crash uselessly into the stone in their wake, weapons clanking to the ground and screams of frustration and choler turning the air an unpleasant shade of blue around them.
The grass on the other side was cold and wet with morning dew. It soaked into Rogue's cloak as she fell, backside first, onto it. In a trice she was on her feet again, eyes blazing. "What all the Seven Hells was that?"
Kitty stared up at her. Her tone was weak. Drained from phasing two other people as well as herself. "My... my power. It kicked in, and I pulled us through the wall."
Rogue remembered something Kitty had said back at the crater that used to be her house. Recognition flared briefly in her features, before they recomposed themselves into the same mask of apathy they favoured - albeit with a trace of anger still smouldering in her dark green orbs.
"Sind Sie ganz recht? Are you OK?" asked Kurt, leaning over from where he'd landed next to the younger girl. She nodded, rubbing her temples like she had a headache.
"Yeah, Just a little, like, disorientated. I'll be fine in, like, a couple of minutes."
"We ain't got a couple of minutes," Rogue said tersely. "On your feet. We've gotta move quickly before the Gatekeeper lets that mob out."
"But he's not allowed to until dawn." Kitty reminded.
Her answer came from Rogue's blade, which she pointed meaningfully at the rapidly lightening sky. "I got news for you, short-stuff. It's dawn already. We gotta move out."
"Move out, move on, get going, that's all I ever hear from you!" Kitty cried angrily. "Well *I've* got news for *you*, *Rogue*. I'm tired of moving out. In fact, I'm just plain tired, period! Try phasing through a solid wall sometime and, like, tell me how many yucks you have!" She glared ferociously at the older adolescent, who stared coldly back at her.
Kurt shuffled closer to Kitty. "Kätzchen, please. She's right. We *do* have to move now, for our own safety."
Kitty didn't break her gaze or stop glaring. "Fine! But first, I want some answers! I flat refuse to like, take another step until she tells me what I wanna know!"
Kurt cast about him nervously. "Rogue?"
She said nothing, and Kitty's verbal torrent went on unchecked.
"Tell me, *Rogue*," the derision in her voice was dangerously blatant, "Just what is this 'Silver Sword' thing you and your friend got so totally whacked about, and what's it, like, got to do with me getting these weird new powers?"
"For your information, Logan isn't mah friend, he was mah mentor." The ex-assassin gritted in a monotone.
"All the more reason you shouldn't have, like, left him behind to fight your battles for you."
Rogue's finger's tightened around her sword handle, but Kurt, anticipating her action, scrambled to his feet and placed himself between the two girls.
"Rogue, bitte, just answer the question. I.... I'd like to know about this 'Silver Sword' too."
Rogue looked at him for a moment, as if considering his request. "You two were *really* cut off in that forest, weren't you? Don't you know *anything* about the Silver Sword?"
"Nein."
"Like, no."
Rogue sighed. A disgruntled, impatient sigh. "Fine, but only if we move on before it really *is* too late and we have a repeat of what went on back there *without* the miraculous escape. No walls around here to save us, shrimp."
"Fine!" Kitty snapped, getting shakily to her feet and stalking away. She looked back over one bony shoulder, calling irritably, "Well, aren't you coming?"
"I would if it were the right direction," Rogue jerked a thumb to her right. "Belvedere's this way. That is, if ya'll still wanna travel with me?" She looked pointedly at Kurt.
He sighed. "Where else can we go? Kitty has no home, and I...." He trailed off.
Again, for the second time in as many minutes, Rogue gazed at him, something akin to remorse at her careless words in those fathomless green eyes. Yet, just as quickly as it had come, it was gone. As was she, having begun walking away in the correct direction without bothering to see whether the two younger teenagers followed.
They trailed after her, as, deep down, she knew they would, listening intently as she explained.
"The Silver Sword? Huh. Where do I begin? I suppose I could start by telling ya'll he's the biggest, meanest, Seventh-Hell spawned Pebehock ya'll could ever not wanna meet."
"It's a man then?" Kurt reverted to scampering on all fours, being able to attain more speed that way.
"Man? Demon, more like. But yeah, he's male. Though what race, nobody's quite sure. He just kinda *appeared* a few years ago, and he's been causing all kinds of trouble ever since."
"Why doesn't someone do something about him if he's, like, so bad?"
"Too powerful. Or else they've already joined with him and his legions. Maybe in the beginning someone could've taken him out, but not now. He's got half the realms under his thumb, and the other half begging for mercy against his armies."
Kurt nodded sagely. "Which is why the Guild of Assassins joined with him, ja?"
"Quick, ain't ya? Yeah, that's why they did it. Better to be dominated than destroyed, they figured. Problem is, The Silver Sword don't allow native cultures to survive under his rule. He crushes them. Wipes them out, until the land or whatever it is that's 'joined' him gets completely absorbed into his empire. Another influx of nameless faces ready to go to battle and conquer somewhere else."
"Is that why Herr Logan was so averse to the Guild of Assassins uniting mit him?"
Rogue grunted. "Assassins value their identities above all else. Possessions, material things, they're all worthless compared to your name. In the eyes of an assassin, it's what makes you who and what you are. Titles are awarded according to conduct and success in the field, and they stick with you until you either earn a better one or die. To have your name taken away basically takes away your identity. Who you are. Everything. It's the ultimate punishment. Even worse than death."
Kurt averted his eyes. "I... I'm sorry. I didn't realise."
Rogue bit her tongue, hard. She hadn't meant to say that much. She was giving away Guild secrets to innocents; making herself susceptible by divulging too much information. The coppery tang of blood spread inside her mouth.
"Rogue?" the elf again. Gods, he was persistent. "Um.... what sorts of things does the Silver Sword *do* that make everybody hate and fear him so much?"
She sighed. "What *doesn't* he do? There have been rumours, stories, but some of the truth is even worse than the gossip. I've heard tell that he's some kind of powerful sorcerer - some say he's even from a different plain of existence altogether - and that he uses magic to enslave people to do his every bidding. Not that he really needs magic for that. He runs all the slave trading organisations - they were the first to join him, the cowards. I guess he just gets his kicks from depriving even slaves of what little free-will they have. He's constantly waging wars on anyone who won't co-operate or join with him, and when he takes prisoners he tries out new torture machines on them that his scientists have invented specially, or else he uses them as test-subjects in his magical 'experiments'."
"How horrible," Kitty's eyes grew round.
"And that's not the half of it. There's some stuff that's so bad, I'm not even gonna mention it. Even I got mah limits. Let's just say, if you take all the deaths in every land for the last ten years and multiply it by a thousand, you'll have a fraction of what the Silver Sword's done already. And what's worse is that he's still going, and getting stronger by the day."
"Man, I can't, like, believe that nobody's done anything to stop him," Kitty expostulated.
Rogue gave a short, barking laugh, totally devoid of any humour. "Don't kid yourself. Plenty have *tried*, but he's just too powerful. They're either killed off, or they disappear without trace in the night. Not even bodies recovered. The ultimate silence."
Kitty halted mid-step. "Hang on a second. And we're going to this guy's, like, *stronghold*, you say? As in where he *is*?"
Rogue turned, walking backwards and not breaking her lethally graceful stride. "*I'm* going to Belvedere, yes. What ya'll do is your own decision."
"I'm going with you," Kurt said stoically. "That is, if you'll let me. The last thing my mother ever told me to do was go with you, and I'll do everything in my power to honour her last wishes."
Rogue's eyes slid sideways at him. ~Was that emotional blackmail? Either this kid's really smart, or else he's so bereaved he doesn't even realise what he's doing. Personally, I'd go for the latter, but you never know....~ her thoughts were abruptly interrupted.
"If Kurt's going, then I'm going too. Like, no *way* is he getting out of my sight with *you* around!" This last comment was directed at Rogue.
The dual-haired teen clenched her teeth in an effort to keep silent and not rip the girl's throat out for her insolence. ~For the elf's sake,~ she told herself, but turned around to walk forwards again and sheathed her sword just in case the urge became too much. The shrimp *really* didn't know when to call it quits.
This momentary slip in her ice-queen façade went surprisingly unnoticed to her usually keen perception, though a pair of golden orbs noted it with a kind of poignant approval.
"So, like, how far away is this 'Belvedere' place, anyhow?" Kitty asked, lifting her decidedly grubbier-than-usual skirts and hopping over a small stone.
Rogue shrugged. "I'm not sure. Couple of weeks perhaps? Possibly more on foot."
"What?" Kitty raised her eyes, appalled. "You mean I have to, like, walk for a couple of *weeks*. I was thinking more, a few days. One week, tops. I cannot believe that I'm actually doing this voluntarily! I am like, totally, maddeningly insane. *Insane*, I tell you...." she carried on, descending into muted grumbling when she realised Rogue wasn't listening to her, yet unable to keep her tongue still.
Kurt drew closer to Rogue, darting in the manner of a nervous feline. His tail lashed this way and that, and his gaze was constantly roving. "Rogue? I don't mean to pry, but.... well, why *are* we going to Belvedere if it's so dangerous?"
Kitty's ears pricked up. "Yeah, why are we?"
Rogue said nothing for several seconds, and the pair began to wonder whether she was ignoring the question, as she was so apt to do to them. But then she spoke. Yet her voice was strange. Wispy, as if belonging to a distant memory or dream, and not the present moment at all.
"I'm going because.... because someone I used to know is there."
"Who could you, like, possibly know in a place like *that*?" probed Kitty, making it demonstrably obvious that tact was not her forte.
"Just.... someone," Rogue said vaguely, and some inexorable force told them not to question her further.
Suddenly, she snapped back into reality with a jolt, embarrassment showing behind her eyes at the temporary lapse. But the memories had been so strong. For a second, it had almost been like she was back there, before any of this happened. Before she was outcast from The Guild. Before she lost him. Before he ....
"Come on, hustle it up. I told you what y'all wanted to know, so let's move it!" Rogue abruptly quickened her step, legs eating up the ground at an astronomical rate. "We ain't stopping for a long while. Too close to the city. We got a long way to go before rest is a possibility."
"What?" Kitty cried again. Her remonstrations filled the early morning air along with the dew, filtering into the ears of her travelling companions like buzzing of angry bees. Kurt hung back to try and pacify her, but his words were stilted and false, as he silently mourned the loss of his only kin.
In this way they went on, advancing across the open, grassy country towards the woodland further on, leaving the dinginess of Zanninsa far behind them.
In the distance, Plechtoh, the first, and smaller of the two suns peeked lazily over the distant mountains, pale light streaking the ground and illuminating any moisture in the air into a haze of glittering jewels.
A new day was starting.
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To Be Continued......
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TRANSLATIONS:
*GERMANIC*
Warum taten sie es? ~ Why did you do it?
Ich könnte Ihnen geholfen haben. ~ I could've helped you.
Warum sendeten Sie mich weg? ~ Why did you send me away?
Sie wußten, daß sie kamen, und doch Sie mich weg sendeten. ~ You knew that they were coming, but you still sent me away.
Warum tat sie es? ~ Why did she do it?
Elf, haben Sie sich zu bewegen. ~ Elf, you have to move.
Hier zu bleiben ist nicht sicher, und ich kann nicht Sie jetzt tragen. ~ It's not safe here, and I can't carry you.
Wohin gehen wir? ~ Where do we go?
Draußen. Die einzige Weise können wir gehen. ~ Outside. The only way we can go.
Herauf! ~ Up!
Können Sie sie anheben? ~ Can you carry her?
Nicht alleine. ~ Not alone.
Zusammen dann. ~ Together then.
Sind Sie ganz recht? ~ Are you OK?
*GEHíN*
Xopomo. ~ S'alright.
Gah lej, gah kef, vinel euhr Harun dim tageth. ~ Go safe, go well, may we one day fight side by side again.
EARTH-REALM TRIVIA:
Rogue makes a reference to the 'Seven Hells' in this chapter. The keen-eyed amongst you may also have noticed such an allusion in the prophecy contained within the Interlude.
General Earth-Realm belief cites that there are seven separate layers of the underworld, commonly known as the Seven Hells. The First Hell is inhabited only by mischief demons and the like, and though impish, its inhabitants are harmless enough. The nature of demons get worse depending on which Hell layer you find them, and in the Seventh Hell there is (quote from sacred texts); 'the burning throne divine, on which He sits, archduke of all demons and consumer of mortal souls. He that was cast from paradise at the first, and now serves only His own whim of destruction and fire.' Guess who *that* could be.
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: MyPlague, yes I *did* create Gehin solely for use in this fic. It can be derived from various languages I've studied over the years, including German, French, Russian, Portuguese and a smattering of Japanese (that's what comes of having your school change into to a language college right beneath your feet.) I don't really remember much of what I studied, but I still have the dictionaries, and the grammar was hammered into me so hard I can still feel the spot where the nail went in. Ooch! Lyra, glad to have amused you. I must say, that line made me laugh even as I typed it. ^_^
This chapter is basically the point at which the main body of the story comes into play, so keep your eyes peeled, k?
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'Of Beast And Blade' By Scribbler
Chapter Four ~ 'Escape'
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'Painful as it may be, a significant emotional event can be the catalyst for choosing a direction that serves us -- and those around us -- more effectively. Look for the learning.' -- Eric Allenbaugh
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"Yept! They found us!" Logan growled.
Kitty whimpered. "What do we do?"
Rogue glanced at the elf, curled into a foetal position on the ground, shuddering softly with muted sobs. His eyes were closed, and had it not been for the spasms erratically wracking his slender frame one might have thought he was only sleeping.
"We need to get outta here, now!" she stated fiercely.
"Kid, we can take 'em - " Logan began, but his former pupil cut him off.
"*We* may be able to, but *they* can't," she gestured to the two younger adolescents. "Besides, we don't even know how many of them there are. First rule you ever taught me; know your enemy."
Logan looked as if he was about to argue, but instead he set his jaw and nodded. Rogue hastily cast about the dark room. Damn! There was no exit other than the one the innkeeper's son and his posse were approaching.
Kitty watched her through agitated blue eyes, making the connection between the older girl's movements and their predicament.
"There's no way out, is there? We're, like, trapped."
"Not necessarily," Logan smiled. A small, somewhat irreverent smile, like he knew a secret he wasn't telling. "Second rule I taught ya, kid - if caught, improvise."
Both Kitty and Rogue looked confused. Even more so when the cloaked man walked sedately over to the rear wall. He acted nonchalantly. Infuriatingly so. Didn't he know there were people coming? People who would kill them and bring their heads back on pikes as proof without so much as a second thought. How could he act so calm at a time like this?
Logan promptly answered their silent question. A loud 'shink' of scraping metal reverberated around the cramped room, and he raised a fist above his head. In between each of his knuckles was a long, wickedly sharp blade, strangely devoid of blood considering they'd just exited his flesh. The unbreakable claws that defined his ancient race.
"Wolverinnen...." Kitty breathed in amazement. She couldn't believe it. She'd thought they were only a myth. But her awed whisper was lost in the sound of crumbling bricks and mortar, as with one fluid movement Logan shoved his blades right though the wall. The dilapidated stonework crumbled like pastry, leaving a large hole where solid partition once stood.
Logan glanced over his shoulder. "Presto. Instant exit."
Rogue didn't waste any time. Pulling up her hood, and with a brisk: "Move" to Kitty, she slung the elf's still incapacitated-by-weeping form over her shoulder and sped out of the makeshift door. Kitty followed, hustled along ungraciously by Logan, and the four of them ran down the darkened street like a pack of hellhounds were snapping at their heels.
When they were several streets away, Logan's sensitive ears picked up an incensed shout from the building they'd just vacated. He would have smiled, but his indignance at fleeing overruled his capacity to show pleasure. He couldn't understand why they were running away like cowards. He *knew* he and the kid could take them. Hell, he'd *trained* her. She'd been his best student. She could probably take that whole sorry bunch out by herself if she wanted to. It wasn't as if they were armed enough to pose much of a threat to a skilled assassin. Bludgeons, torches, a couple of rusty blades - he'd smelled them when they were still in the building. Nothing she couldn't handle.
Yet she'd run. The pupil he'd known never would have done that. Then again, neither would she have taken a couple of superfluous brats with her either. That was compassionate. The girl he'd known didn't *do* compassion.
They rounded a corner, stampeding down the relatively silent street in a broken single-file. Logan glanced behind them. He'd heard another shout from their pursuers that sounded distinctly like; "They went that way! Let's get 'em!" He transferred his gaze back to Rogue, pelting ahead of them at the front of their straggly line. This was all well and good, but where exactly did she expect to go? Half the city knew her face by now. He knew this place better than she did. He knew precisely where they should go, and the least populated route to get there.
"Kid!" he called mutedly, taking a tremendous risk by raising his voice for her to hear. "Kid, wait!"
Rogue skidded to a stop. "What?"
"I got an idea. Go left and do exactly what I tell ya."
She complied, and via a barrage of directions from her former mentor, the unusual party soon found themselves at the edge of Cheapside. Here they halted, deciding what to do next.
The street they were in was largely abandoned, with only a few tumbledown dwellings a little further up that the poorer members of Zanninsan society resided in. Logan hustled them all into the lee of one such abandoned construction, which afforded them slight cover behind the veritable mountain of garbage piled around it.
"So what's this plan?" Rogue demanded.
"First things first," Logan replied. "There's some things you gotta know about. I've been waitin' to tell you for months. I ain't gonna let some poxy wannabe bounty-hunters stop me now."
Kitty stared at him, her aghast expression concealed by darkness. Here they were, hiding from folks who wanted to *kill* them, and he wanted to *talk*? She began to seriously doubt the sanity of anyone called 'ex-assassin'.
Logan leaned in close, voice dropping to a low whisper, emphasising every point he made with a wave of the metal claws he had yet to retract back into his body. "Listen close, 'cause I ain't gonna say this twice. It's about The Silver Sword. When the council was still thinkin' about allying the Guild with him, I found out about a few things I'd rather not have known, and which proved to be the final straw in their decision to get rid of me. I knew too much. Rumour had it that he was messin' with powerful magic, tryin' to control it himself. I don't know if it was successful, but I do know what it meant for the rest of the lands. You may've noticed that strange things have been happenin' lately. Weird weather patterns, animals behaving oddly, stuff like that. It's all outta whack."
Rogue nodded, thinking of the chimera and its unusual behaviour. ~The shrimp said chimeras are pack animals, and live deeper in the Black Forest than where we found it. I wonder, could that be connected to what Logan says?~
He continued, unabated. "There's even been tell of traits from other races turning up in *humans* of all things. Perfectly normal people suddenly finding they can do extraordinary things. A few weeks ago I came across a guy right here in the city that could fly. Levitate himself clean off the ground. There's been a lot of gossip about similar incidents all over the different lands. They've even got their own name now; Changelings."
Kitty gasped, and clamped her hands over her mouth. "M... me," was all she could stammer. "That's just like what happened to me! I'm a... a... Changeling!"
Logan grunted. "See what I mean? And it's getting' worse. Changelings poppin' up all over the place, docile beasts goin' wild and killing everything in sight, storm-clouds raining in the desert. It's like the fibres of the universe are changin' somehow. And I reckon - no matter what anybody else says - it can all be traced back to The Silver Sword. It *has* to be."
"So what are ya'll telling me this for?" Rogue asked impatiently. Couldn't he just get to the bit involving this 'plan' of his?
"'Cause it's all stuff you need to know, kid. You have to be aware of what's out there when you're travellin'. Earth-Realm's alterin' right under our noses, and if we wanna stay alive in it then we gotta know what's goin' on. Third rule I taught you; adapt to survive."
"And where exactly will I be travelling to? Unless you hadn't noticed, there's a price on my head bigger than a king's ransom. Every Tom, Dick and Harry around wants a piece of me now," Rogue pointed out in an exasperated tone.
By contrast, Logan was gallingly calm. "You're gonna get your ass to Belvedere."
Rogue very nearly exploded. "Belvedere? You expect me to just walk right in to The Silver Sword's stronghold? Why would I do that? I didn't stay alive this long just to go on some crazy kamikaze mission you cooked up."
Logan's composed façade didn't slip an inch. "Something big's goin' down there, and whatever it is, it's happenin' soon."
"So why send me?"
"Because I know you'll wanna go."
"What makes you think that?"
"Because Pietro's there."
A piercing arrow, tip dipped in venom, speared Rogue's chest as his callous words found their mark.
Pietro?
Kitty stole a look at Rogue's face in the moonlight. The older girl looked like a herd of stampeding cattle had just run her down. Her mouth hung slightly open, and her harsh green eyes had taken on a glazed appearance, like that of one in a dream. In all, she seemed shell-shocked. An expression that the young Changeling found simultaneously intriguing and chilling.
Logan suddenly raised his head. Kitty could have sworn she saw his ears twitch, and he turned back to the trio of youngsters, dark eyes serious.
"They're comin', and they've got others with 'em. Lots."
Rogue seemed incapable of answering, so Kitty did it for her. "How many"
"Enough."
"What should we do?"
"Get to the Western Gate like the kid said. Get out of Zanninsa as soon as you can. Bribe the Gatekeeper if you have to, and if he won't take it then...." he raised his claws, not needing words to make his meaning clear. Kitty gulped and nodded, more out of fear than actual concurrence.
"I understand."
"Kid," he transferred his attention back to the stunned Rogue. "Kid, listen to me. This is real important. Promise me you'll go to Belvedere. Got it? Promise me."
For a moment she didn't move, then her eyelids blinked, and she slid back into the world of the waking again. "I promise. But Logan, aren't you coming too?"
"Nuh-uh. I'm gonna draw those guys off, give you a chance to get away."
She leaned forward and said earnestly. "Logan, come with us."
He shook his head. "No, kid. Not this time. You go on. I'll cover your back."
"But - " she began.
He stood up, effectively cutting her off. "I said no, kid. You need a diversion, and since neither of these two would last more then five seconds against that crowd, I'm it." He waved a callous claw at Kitty and Kurt, who was curled up on the floor where Rogue had dumped him upon arrival, silently crying. It was a wonder how he had any tears left now.
Rogue stared up at the abrasive man. The man who had essentially raised her, trained her, made her who she was today. "Thank you."
"Xopomo." With that, he turned to go.
Rogue stood, making to heft the elf back onto her shoulder again, when suddenly Logan swivelled back to look at her. His face was inquisitive as he remembered something he'd seen earlier. Something that had bothered him, but which had never come up in conversation. His gaze fell upon her boot, where a certain telltale bulge should have been present, but wasn't.
"Where's your knife?"
"Lost it on a chimera."
Logan rolled his eyes heavenwards. "You're slippin'. Here, take this." Grabbing her arm, he pressed something into her hand.
Rogue stared down at the small blade in her palm, perfectly cut and honed to a wafer-thin edge that could cut steel without the bearer even breaking into a sweat. At the hilt, the snarling muzzle of a wolverine had been fashioned, so intricately detailed that one could almost believe its slavering jaws would clamp down on any fingers that strayed too close. Polished metal was its coarse fur, blood-red rubies its burning eyes. She gaped at it.
"Your hunting knife? Logan, I can't take this."
"Like I really need it," he shot back, flexing his hand and claws to illustrate his point. "I only kept it around for decoration. You'll make much better use of it then I ever could. Now go!"
Rogue stared at him a moment longer, and then - with an obedience reminiscent of her days as his pupil - collected the elf on her shoulder, mumbling to Kitty: "Let's go," before moving out.
Logan watched her go. Unbidden, an old Gehín farewell sprang to his lips. "Gah lej, gah kef, vinel euhr Harun dim tageth."
Rogue heard his words, but her steps didn't falter. She didn't turn back. She didn't acknowledge him. With practised ease her ice-queen exterior slid into place, and to all who saw her it was as though he meant nothing. Nothing at all. She couldn't care less that he was taking the brunt of what was meant for her. She was The Rogue. Such things were meaningless and trivial - beneath her concern. She didn't care.
Kitty scuttled after the striding girl, chancing a glance at Logan before following her into the unknown, hostile night.
The Wolverinnen stood, until he could see them no more. The sounds of their pursuers rang in his sensitive ears. They were getting closer, but no matter. He could easily deal with them.
His fighter's spirit, unlike that of a normal assassin, had been borne to him down through the ages from his ancestors far in the dim and distant past, and now it positively simmered at the prospect of a good fight. It had been so long. He was going to enjoy this. And afterwards, he'd leave the city. Go south where he'd heard tell of a resistance group against the creeping power of The Silver Sword. They could probably find a use for someone like him.
For now, however, there was combat at hand, and he'd be damned if he was going to miss a single second of it.
Logan spun on his heel, leaping out from behind the pile of wastage and speeding down the street where he could hear the clumsy battle cries of the innkeeper's son and his band of hastily recruited and untrained seekers. ~Let them try their luck at a *real* hunter,~ he grinned.
Oh yes, he was going to enjoy this.
*******************
Kitty pattered after Rogue, stumbling over mounds of unidentifiable garbage in the inky darkness as she tried to keep up. Kurt hung uselessly across the former assassin's shoulder, hands trailing, not even attempting to steady himself on his precarious perch. Intermittently she could hear him mumbling, though she couldn't understand what he said.
"Warum taten sie es? Warum? Ich könnte Ihnen geholfen haben. Warum sendeten Sie mich weg? Sie wußten, daß sie kamen, und doch Sie mich weg sendeten."
He sounded so pathetic, and her heart wrenched in her chest. She knew the pain of losing someone you loved - two someones in fact. It was the worst kind of pain imaginable by a mortal. Worse than actual, physical agony, because that abated after a while. Loss was intangible, and all the more potent for it.
They reached the end of the street and turned onto a busier one. 'Das Rückenhaus' flashed past, gaudy music blaring from the doorway and dancing girls still prancing scantily within.
There were more people on the streets now as the city slowly began to waken. Not enough to form any sort of a crowd, but enough to worry Kitty about being spotted and recognised.
The trio snaked through the alleyways, leaving Cheapside far behind them and journeying into the more affluent areas of Zanninsa.
At a set of crossroads Rogue paused, delineating which way to go. Kitty took the opportunity to draw as close she dared and whisper angrily in the older girl's ear. "What about Mr. Logan?"
"What about him?" Rogue muttered.
Kitty scowled. "You can't just leave him here to fight them alone. He's outnumbered."
"Watch me."
Any hint of emotion she'd shown before had now vanished. Swallowed by the void of her own cruel indifference. Her face was set, her manner cold. Kitty positively fumed. Rogue obviously had an attachment to the Wolverinnen, yet here she was abandoning him to the mob that was meant for herself just to save her own skin. It was heartless. More than that, it was disgustingly cowardly. Her lip inadvertently curled into a sneer of antipathy.
Rogue didn't even turn her head. "If ya'll don't like it then leave. *You* go fight with him if it means that much to ya. If not, then I'm going this way." She sped off down the street to her right.
Kitty stood for a moment, torn. Then after a moment's hesitation she followed. Much as she hated to do it, she wasn't going to leave poor, broken Kurt to the ex-assassin's 'tender mercies'.
The sky overhead was lightening, changing from murky black to dark blue. Morning approached, and with it the chance of discovery. Rogue doubled her pace, streaking through the various boulevards like a bolt of cloaked lightning. Kitty puffed and panted behind her.
The older female glanced around at the buildings they passed. Yes, she remembered this locale. They were nearing the Western Gate, and freedom
~Not far now,~ she thought grimly, and then halted - forced to discontinue her mad flight by what she saw before her. Kitty reached her side seconds later, wondering why they'd stopped. She didn't have to wonder for long.
Stretched across the mouth of the street was a group of men, each bearing a weapon or some item of paraphernalia that could serve as such in a pinch. They were for the most part all burly, well-built characters, with a smattering of scars and healed broken noses between them. Each bore an ugly, covetous expression on his face, and leered menacingly at the two girls and incapacitated elf.
"Yept!" Rogue growled under her breath.
A figure peeled off from the main body of thugs. Unlike them he was thin and spindly, with sharply cut features and an avaricious smirk on his lips. His mop of ginger hair appeared blood red in the fading moonlight. Beyond him they could see the tall Western Gates rising in the white of the city wall.
"Ye didn't be thinkin' we'd let ye go now, did ye?" asked the innkeeper's son mockingly. "Ah knew ye'd try an' reach the Western Gate. That be why ah left some o' our lot t'deal with yer friend. Fer such a famous wench, ye sure don't be a smart 'un."
Kitty blinked as Rogue's voice, barely audible, slithered into her ear. Not even the barest movement of her head betrayed that she was speaking, and the shadows of her hood concealed her mouth. "When I give the word, run down the passageway to your left. No, don't look. It's real small, so you'll have to be careful ya'll don't miss it."
The innkeeper's son smiled gleefully in anticipation. That ransom was his. Unbeknownst to the brawny fellows he'd coerced into helping him retrieve the outlaw, he had no intention of sharing the reward with anyone of them, and was even considering keeping it from his father. With money like that he could get away from this stinking city. Start a new life somewhere else, perhaps with a bar if his own. He'd always fancied having dancing girls - in more ways than one.
His grin widened. He took a step forward, and his gang did likewise.
"Now!" Rogue hissed.
Wordlessly, the two girls whipped round and pelted into the practically invisible passageway sandwiched between two houses.
The innkeeper's son gave an angry cry and the mob rushed forward after them, but found that the narrowness of the corridor forced them into single file, hindering their speed considerably as their wide shoulders invariably became wedged between the moss-covered walls.
The ginger-haired man cried out as he was squashed between two of his considerably bigger comrades. "Git offa me, big idjits! They be getting' away! Move it!"
"But ah'm stuck," protested the man in front of him. The innkeeper's son brought his leg back as best he could in the small space and savagely kicked him in the leg.
"Did ah ask fer excuses? They not be givin' out rewards fer us *almost* getting' the girl. Move yer arse!"
Kitty and Rogue pelted down the passage as fast as their legs could take them, the indignant cries of their pursuers hot on their heels. Kitty was in front, and came to the end of the alley first, pausing momentarily as she flew out onto an unfamiliar street. Rogue blew past, undaunted, catching her arm and dragging her unceremoniously behind.
"Come on! This way!"
The two girls ran for all they were worth, conscious of the fact that the innkeeper's son would probably have stationed more of his goons at the Western Gate itself. For the moment though, flight was all that concerned their minds. The problem of actually getting out through the gate would have to wait until they got there.
Kitty's lungs burned as she fought for breath. Never had she run so fast in all her life. Her body had been strengthened by a lifetime of working the soil outside her home, but she wasn't built for exertions such as extended running. Rogue gripped her wrist with a grasp of iron, and the brown haired girl was sure that without this physical contact, she would surely have been left behind long ago.
The street they were on was much busier then any other they had previously been privy to. Several horses could been seen pacing the cobbles, the metallic clop of their hooves ringing out like onerous bells, and people of all shapes and sizes were bustling out of their modest houses and throwing open the shutters to their windows high above.
A rider atop one bay mount cursed the fleeing females as they dashed past, spooking his horse almost to the point of bolting. He waved a fist at them, but they paid him no heed. Now was not the time to be worrying about petty insults from an insignificant passer-by.
Rogue yanked Kitty with her across the active road, avoiding horses and the odd rickshaw with adept effortlessness, and making it to the other side without a scratch. There they halted for a second, before the older girl cried out again.
"This way!"
They turned left and followed the street for many metres. Kitty stared about her, fearful of being seen in such an open place. Would those thugs be bothered about acting in a public setting? Somehow she doubted it, and found no solace in the crowd rapidly surrounding them.
Kurt thumped against Rogue's armour, but didn't once cry out. Kitty wondered if he was still conscious. It couldn't be good for him to keep hitting his head that way, could it?
Yet there was no time for her to ponder these musings, as Rogue abruptly hauled her into a small side street. It wasn't as close or cramped as the alleys of Cheapside, but somehow this didn't alleviate Kitty's fears much.
~Why is she going, like, away from the main road? I'm sure this isn't, like, the way to the Western Gate. We're going in, like, totally the wrong direction!~
However, Rogue knew exactly what she was doing. True they were going the wrong way at present, but she had in mind an idea so crazy, it might just work, and provide them with a quicker route than if they'd stayed on the streets.
Kitty was more than a little aggravated when they stopped outside a ramshackle house a short way down the street. However, this quickly transformed into disquiet as the former assassin proceeded to kick in the door to the building. She used such force that the wood - already considerably weakened by age - splintered and cracked into a convoluted lattice of splits fanning out around the imprint of her boot.
"What are you, like, *doing*?" the Changeling demanded.
"Staying alive," was the offhand reply.
"But this is, like, somebody's house!" Kitty refused to let the matter rest.
Rogue turned to her, eyes glinting dangerously out of the shadows cast by her deep hood. "Do ya'll wanna survive or not?" she exacted softly. Kitty perceptibly started, then nodded dumbly. "Well then get your ass in there and quit complaining!"
With that, she disappeared inside the building, leaving Kitty to follow like a ghost.
The pair found themselves inside what was - for the area - a good-sized room, strewn here and there with straw, and with a large wooden table set up alongside one wall.
There were no chairs - that would have been an expensive luxury. Rather, upended barrels served as seating, with an old odorous fishing net, gleaned from a traveller at half price because of its maturity and brokenness, draped about it to dilute the stench of old hops. The combined smell was only marginally better, and caught in Kitty's throat like a choking fog. She was almost glad when Rogue led her up a flight of creaking stairs in the centre of the room. However, some small, argumentative part of her balked at what they were doing.
"We can't go up here!" she protested weakly, knowing that her remonstrations were only falling on deaf ears, but unable to prevent herself from uttering them anyway. "These people might be, like, upstairs! This is breaking and entering."
~What am I saying? This is The Rogue I'm talking to. A trained murderer. She's probably done stuff like this since, like, forever. And worse besides. What difference would another one make to her record?~
They came to a poky landing, bordering which was a single battered door. Rogue leaned on the opposite wall, crushing Kurt slightly, but she didn't seem that bothered about how uncomfortable he was. She raised one leg and, with a power not usually found in females, kicked at the door. Her strength was such that it flew clean off its hinges, sailing a few feet into the room beyond to land with a clatter on the floorboards.
Two figures in the bed within sat up in alarm as the two runaways strode into the room. Well, that is to say, Rogue strode in. Kitty pattered embarrassedly after her, and Kurt hung limply from the taller girl's shoulder. Kitty glanced at the scared couple, throwing them an apologetic glance, and blushing beet red at the compromising state they were in.
Brazenly, Rogue stalked over to the window, which was a modest construction made with glass. These people obviously had some amount of money to afford such a comfort, or else they had inherited the house off someone who did, which seemed the more likely scenario after the meagre shape of affairs downstairs.
Rogue unceremoniously dumped Kurt on the floor and flung open the glass and shutters. Outside was a spectacular - if not exactly awe-inspiring - view of the somewhat squalid, flat-topped houses of Zanninsa. They stretched as far as the naked eye could see in every direction, and beyond them was a sight that caused Kitty's heart to leap in her chest.
"The Western Gate," she breathed, relief tincturing her voice. Salvation. Escape. Then her brow furrowed. ~But how to get to it?~
The man in the bed sat up a little straighter, trying to appear serious and dignified despite his lack of raiment. When he spoke his tone was full of forced authority, but it wobbled a little, ruining the illusion.
"Who... who are you people? What do you want?"
Rogue didn't even grace him with an answer. Instead, she crouched next to Kurt's inert form, shaking him gently by the shoulder.
"Fuzzy? Hey, elf?" Curiously her tone was less harsh than before, though not exactly soft. "Ya'll are gonna have to get up now."
Kurt stirred, the movement scarcely detectable. "Warum tat sie es?" he mumbled.
"Elf, haben Sie sich zu bewegen. Hier zu bleiben ist nicht sicher, und ich kann nicht Sie jetzt tragen," Rogue said in fluent Germanic. Kurt opened his golden eyes and looked soulfully up at her. The sadness there was enough to melt the hardest of hearts.
Except for Rogue's. Hers was a heart harder than stone and twice as cold.
"Wohin gehen wir?" Kurt asked.
Rogue gestured to the open window. "Draußen. Die einzige Weise können wir gehen."
Kitty didn't understand what passed between them, but she understood perfectly what Rogue meant.
"Oh no! No way am I doing that!" she cried, taking a step backwards. In a flash, Rogue was up and Kitty found herself with her back pressed against the wall, a dagger held close to her bobbing throat.
"You'll do what I say, or die," was the gritted command.
Unable to nod and finding that her voice had suddenly left her, Kitty could only stare at the older girl, hoping her eyes would say what she wanted to hear.
Apparently they did, as Rogue abruptly released the Changeling, returning her attention to the furry boy sitting up on the floor.
"Herauf!" she ordered in a manner that brooked no argument.
Kurt complied, going to the window and staring out. Outside was a narrow ledge, barely eight inches wide, and attached to the brickwork a few feet to the right of the aperture was a long, horizontal flagpole, used to hang the relevant flag when a noble or some such aristocrat's parade came to Zanninsa. There was another, similar one on the opposite building too, but it was lower due to the fact that the house itself was shorter than the one in which they now stood. The space between the ledge and the next house was several feet, although it seemed more by way of the long drop to the garbage-littered ground below.
Kurt gauged the distance, and hopped onto the windowsill with feline grace. Kitty stared, wide-eyed, as he dropped onto the ledge, steadying himself by gripping the window frame until he got his balance.
To anyone watching, what happened next would have been enough to either drive them to drink, or else turn them off it forever. A slender, demonic figure covered in blue fur and wearing typical male peasant clothing leaped from the ledge of one building, sailing through the early-morning air to land, monkey-like, on the opposing rooftop. Closely following this, another individual dressed in a flowing cloak and resembling the Spirit of Death himself made the jump, to land with equal polish next to the demon.
Kitty lowered herself onto the ledge, thankful that the couple in the bed were too afraid and embarrassed to try and stop them. She stared across the gap, gulping profusely. It sure looked a lot wider from here than when she was looking at it from inside. Subconsciously she clutched the window frame, her knuckles bleaching. A cold bead of sweat ran from her temple, down her face to drip off her chin, falling into the chasm below. She watched it plummet, a cold knot of fear manifesting in her gut.
~Like, one wrong move and that could be me,~ she thought.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, the slender girl released the frame and prepared to leap, just as she'd seen Rogue do. Of course, she'd seen Kurt do it too, but somehow she doubted her all too human limbs could quite manage what his could. Her muscles tensed, ready to spring. She focused hard getting enough power to cross, and....
"Hey you! Stop right there!"
A hand jutted from the window behind her, grabbing her shoulder and yanking her backwards. Too late! Her jump was already taking her forward, and the man's hold was clumsy thanks to the sheet he clutched haphazardly around his waist. Kitty wrenched from his clasp to go flying out across the manmade rift, but his unexpected action had thrown her off-balance. There wasn't enough clout to her jump - she wasn't going to make it! Desperately she windmilled her arms, as if by doing so she could somehow fly all the way.
No such luck. She fell only a few inches short, but it was enough. Frantically she flung out her arms, catching the edge of the opposite rooftop with her fingertips and clinging on for dear life. She hung there, helpless as a rag-doll, buffeted by the breeze and conscious of the fact that at any moment she could be spotted by some keen-eyed passer-by, or worse....
~Oh gods, I'm slipping,~ she mentally cried out, voice deserting her. Her sweaty fingers slid slowly, painfully, over the coarse surface of the brickwork. A high, feminine gasp sounded out behind her as the woman from the bed joined her partner in watching the young girl who'd invaded their bedroom dangle precariously from her purchase. ~I'm gonna die. Oh, Mama, Papa! Help me!~
"I have you, Kätzchen. Hold on!"
Kitty opened her eyes, not even realizing until then that they were squeezed shut in fear. The cool air stung her eyeballs, and salty water dribbled down her cheeks - though from fear or irritation she couldn't tell. Desperately she clung on, but could feel herself slipping a little more with every passing moment.
A hollow thump sounded nearby. Absently, Kitty's mind wondered what it was, but the musing was overruled by the intense angst fogging her senses. She was almost surprised when something warm and furry grasped her around her waist.
Chancing a look sideways, she saw a familiar blue form balanced on the horizontal flagpole. He wobbled on two legs, using his tail wrapped around it to maintain some sort of equilibrium. His hands were clasped around her midriff, pushing and straining to lever her up so that she may get a better grip of the rooftop and haul herself over.
Through the miasma blurring her mind, a single word found its way to Kitty's mouth, and she spoke it with the incredulity of one who has resigned themselves to death, only to be torn from its dark grasp at the last second.
"Kurt?"
"Hang on!" he endeavoured to shove her further upwards, and for a second it seemed to be working. Kitty shifted her grip, grappling to gain more ground and drag herself up.
But then Fate stepped into the fray, and as we all know, Fate is a fickle mistress.
One of the bricks Kitty was holding onto suddenly began to crumble and come away from the wall. Frantically the young girl struggled to keep hold of it, but this only served to detach it faster, and it separated in a flurry of dust and powder that rained down on her face, making her cough and retch.
Kurt grunted and quivered unsteadily on his roost as Kitty abruptly found herself swinging perilously by one hand. All the progress she'd just made lost, the brown haired girl coughed violently as brick-dust filled her mouth, nose and throat. Her body shook with every spasm, rendering her closer and closer to falling, but she couldn't stop. Her body's natural reflexes kept her spluttering until finally....
"Kätzchen!" Kurt yelled distraughtly as what little grip Kitty had slipped, and she fell. He nearly plummeted too as her slender body was ripped from his grasp, and could do nothing but helplessly shout her name.
In that moment Kitty felt nothing. Her senses became numb the nanosecond her hold failed. She was going to die. A simple fact. Irrevocable. It was as if her mind had shut down in the face of such an ultimate and unalterable fact. There was no point in screaming or flailing her limbs. She was going to perish below, and nothing now could stop her from being dashed on the cobbles like a fledgling fallen from its nest. Nothing....
Something hard grabbed her wrist in an iron grip. A steel-trap, closing about her flesh. Metal dug into her skin, yanking and pulling until she felt her arm must be pulled from its socket. The cold, harsh clinch of Death.
No, not Death. But close. Kitty stared up with blank, flaccid eyes. Up into the face of a most unlikely saviour.
Rogue's hood had fallen back as she rushed forward, exposing her coveted face for the world to see. Her oddly coloured tresses whipped about her skull into a wild halo of hair, giving the impression of a demonic angel. Her expression was set, but strained as she heaved at the younger girl's limp body, hauling her back from the brink of oblivion with strength incongruous to her feminine form. Her hands, covered in armoured-gloves, bit into Kitty's skin, reminding her that she was not yet dead, that she was alive, and willing to fight to keep this life she yet possessed.
With renewed vigour, Kitty toiled to pull herself over the edge of the rooftop, and with the addition of Rogue's strength, succeeded in gaining enough of a grip to roll over the precipice and lie, gasping, on its flat surface.
Kurt bounded over too, and crouched beside her, concerned.
"Kätzchen, are you OK? Speak to me."
"I'm....||gasp||....fine," Kitty wheezed. "Just a little, like....||gasp||....shook up."
"Come on," Rogue's harsh voice cut through the gladness sweeping over the two of them at Kitty's miraculous escape from death. "We gotta keep moving. We got a few more rooftops before we're at the Western Gate."
"Can't...." Kitty panted. ".... Can't jump ||gasp|| any more."
Rogue uttered what could be best described as an exasperated groan, and stalked over to the collapsed girl.
"Können Sie sie anheben?" she rapped out.
"Nicht alleine," replied Kurt.
"Zusammen dann."
With a brief nod of agreement, the elf and ex-assassin lifted Kitty up between them, pausing only long enough to get a firm grip on her thin body. Then they ran without hesitation towards the opposite edge of the rooftop, leaping off it into the mysterious beyond.
Kitty didn't even have time enough to yelp, for they touched down with a jolt, and carried on running with practised ease, as if they leaped from rooftop to rooftop in the semidarkness all the time. Certainly, the speed they attained would seem to allude to it, and in virtually no time at all they were mere feet away from the Western Gate. All that stood between them and it was a drop to the ground and a sprint across a patch of open courtyard to the Gatekeeper's Booth.
"Ya'll can make it to the floor?" Rogue asked. She wasn't even breathing hard from the exertion.
"Ja," Kurt answered, glancing over the edge. In a few short bounds he'd leaped from the roof, swung from a windowsill and alighted nimbly on the cobbles. He looked up at the two girls.
"Ya'll are next," ordered Rogue, setting Kitty roughly on her feet again.
"What?" Kitty exclaimed. "Excuse me, but if you hadn't, like, noticed, I can*not* do stuff like that! I nearly killed myself last - " she uttered no more words, as Rogue shoved her hard in the chest, sending her toppling over the edge of their perch to plummet... straight into Kurt's waiting arms.
"Do not worry, Frauline. I have you," he assured her, as she clutched a handful of his fur in shock, pulling it out by the roots and making him wince.
"She...she...did she just..." Kitty stuttered, stomach rejoining her with a lurch, having been left behind somewhere en route to the ground.
"Yeah, *she* did," Rogue retorted, landing beside them. Her manners were brisk, her words sharp, and she paid the pair of them no more than a passing glance before striding off towards the Gatekeeper's booth.
Embarrassed and angry, Kitty scrambled out of Kurt's arms and they tagged along at her heels like a couple of faithful hounds. Kitty's nature balked at this obsequious behaviour, but one glance at Kurt's drawn, submissive face told her it was best to comply for the moment, if just for his sake whilst he chose to remain in the rude girl's company.
They'd crossed no more than half the courtyard when the first missile struck. A knife, rusty with age and disuse, and displaying none of the care and attention obviously lavished on both Rogue and Logan's weapons, clattered point-first into the cobbles mere inches from Kurt's bare feet.
The trio whirled round, and Kitty ducked as a sizable rock flew past, aimed at her head. From out of the shadows came the innkeeper's son's men, howling chaotic battle cries, the thrill of the chase in them. As predicted, they'd been sent on ahead of their leader to lie in wait for their quarry should she, by some unlucky turn, escape his grasp.
Rogue drew her sword and adopted a battle stance in front of the elf and Changeling. She was sick of running now, and wanted nothing more than to finish these insolent, arrogant wretches who thought they could capture her so easily. Who did they think they were, anyway? She wasn't some common or garden criminal, easy prey for any vigilante who decided to take a shot at her. She was The Rogue. That fact in itself proof of her resilience and determination to stay alive.
The crowd of men surged towards her, shouting and laughing in equal measure, none of them truly realising the calibre of whom they were chasing. A few of them flung missiles at her, which she adroitly dodged without so much as moving her feet, but most kept their weapons in hand, readying them for close-quarters combat.
Rogue shifted her grip on the handle of her blade, singling out with her eyes a likely looking target like she'd been taught to, and making the split-second calculation on how best to lop off his head and use the force of the blow to slay the man behind him too. Closer and closer they came, until she could see the whites of their eyes, wide and staring with the primordial exhilaration of the hunt, awaked after years of stifling city life.
Suddenly a hand lay gently on her arm, and such was her tension that she almost spun round to stab its owner. However, in the nick of time she caught herself, which was lucky because the owner was Kurt. He gazed at her through soulful eyes, the colour of liquid honey, made sour by the mould of intense pain.
"Please, no more death," he pleaded, voice no more than a whisper.
Rogue stared at him, emotions grappling inside her at the sight of those golden orbs. Vicarious misery clashed with the intrinsic bloodlust coursing through her veins, creating a maelstrom of conflicting thoughts and feelings that tolled within her like a knell.
This severe personal battle lasted only a second to the outside world, and even as the clash flickered briefly behind her green eyes, she was already turning and running away from the advancing mob.
Kitty and Kurt also turned and fled, the frenzied cries of their pursuers ringing in their ears. The Zanninsan men whooped, courage increasing a thousandfold at the sight of their fleeing backs, and they increased their pace.
"Lookit, they be runnin'!" one yelled.
"Get 'em!" screeched another. "Knock 'em down, kill 'em!"
"Stab they hides an' slit they gizzards! Gouge out they eyes and feed 'em t'crows fer brekkist! Make 'em beg fer mercy, mates!" boomed yet another, brandishing a fire-poker like a pike.
Rogue gritted her teeth, fighting the urge to spin round and plunge amongst them, ripping and stabbing until not one of them could jeer any more. Her sword was still drawn, and she ran with it held tightly in one hand, pallid sunlight from the looming dawn glinting off it where - rightfully, in her mind - blood should have been adding its own crimson sheen to the metal.
Yet it seemed their flight was in vain, for at that moment the men they'd left wedged in the alley appeared, blocking their way to the booth and freedom. A familiar redheaded figure was at their helm.
Rogue and her companions banked a sharp left, shooting through a gap between two nearby hovels and running alongside the city wall in an effort to lose them and double back towards the gates. But it was no use. It seemed they were surrounded, hemmed in on every side. Armed men - many more than she'd first thought - poured from everywhere, barring all exits and closing the circle around the three escapees until they found themselves pressed against the cracked, white surface of the wall.
They were trapped.
Rogue extended her sword, stepping in front of the other two. She risked a glance over her shoulder at Kurt. One that only he could see, and had he not known better or been a little more perceiving at that moment, then he could have sworn that there was something akin to contrition in her eyes. Then she swivelled back to face her opponents, a snarl tugging at the corners of her mouth. Let them just try to take her down!
Kitty cowered behind Rogue's sturdy frame, cursing herself for their predicament. It was all her fault. If she'd made that jump properly then they would have been here sooner, before the innkeeper's son arrived to cut off their retreat. It was all her fault. They were going to die because of her. Rogue and Kurt. Skewered on the blades of this howling mob and paraded around as carcasses for the world to gawk at. A solitary tear trickled down her cheek, tracing a path through the grime.
~I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry.~
All at once, a strange feeling came over the blue-eyed girl. Like sensation, yet not. It immersed her being in a tangible nothingness, wrapping around her limbs and spreading across her skin like invisible, licking flames. She felt light. Weightless. Like air. It was frighteningly alien, but concurrently, very familiar.
She recognised it in an instant.
Rogue gave a startled; "Wha-" as suddenly, Kitty grabbed hold of her arm. Likewise Kurt didn't know quite what the younger girl was doing, until he felt the familiar nothingness wash over him. The same nothingness as had permeated him back at Kitty's house. He leant back, realising what the Changeling was trying to do, and aiding her the best he could to do it.
As one, the trio literally sank into the wall, disappearing from view moments before the first of the mob reached them, leaving the men to crash uselessly into the stone in their wake, weapons clanking to the ground and screams of frustration and choler turning the air an unpleasant shade of blue around them.
The grass on the other side was cold and wet with morning dew. It soaked into Rogue's cloak as she fell, backside first, onto it. In a trice she was on her feet again, eyes blazing. "What all the Seven Hells was that?"
Kitty stared up at her. Her tone was weak. Drained from phasing two other people as well as herself. "My... my power. It kicked in, and I pulled us through the wall."
Rogue remembered something Kitty had said back at the crater that used to be her house. Recognition flared briefly in her features, before they recomposed themselves into the same mask of apathy they favoured - albeit with a trace of anger still smouldering in her dark green orbs.
"Sind Sie ganz recht? Are you OK?" asked Kurt, leaning over from where he'd landed next to the younger girl. She nodded, rubbing her temples like she had a headache.
"Yeah, Just a little, like, disorientated. I'll be fine in, like, a couple of minutes."
"We ain't got a couple of minutes," Rogue said tersely. "On your feet. We've gotta move quickly before the Gatekeeper lets that mob out."
"But he's not allowed to until dawn." Kitty reminded.
Her answer came from Rogue's blade, which she pointed meaningfully at the rapidly lightening sky. "I got news for you, short-stuff. It's dawn already. We gotta move out."
"Move out, move on, get going, that's all I ever hear from you!" Kitty cried angrily. "Well *I've* got news for *you*, *Rogue*. I'm tired of moving out. In fact, I'm just plain tired, period! Try phasing through a solid wall sometime and, like, tell me how many yucks you have!" She glared ferociously at the older adolescent, who stared coldly back at her.
Kurt shuffled closer to Kitty. "Kätzchen, please. She's right. We *do* have to move now, for our own safety."
Kitty didn't break her gaze or stop glaring. "Fine! But first, I want some answers! I flat refuse to like, take another step until she tells me what I wanna know!"
Kurt cast about him nervously. "Rogue?"
She said nothing, and Kitty's verbal torrent went on unchecked.
"Tell me, *Rogue*," the derision in her voice was dangerously blatant, "Just what is this 'Silver Sword' thing you and your friend got so totally whacked about, and what's it, like, got to do with me getting these weird new powers?"
"For your information, Logan isn't mah friend, he was mah mentor." The ex-assassin gritted in a monotone.
"All the more reason you shouldn't have, like, left him behind to fight your battles for you."
Rogue's finger's tightened around her sword handle, but Kurt, anticipating her action, scrambled to his feet and placed himself between the two girls.
"Rogue, bitte, just answer the question. I.... I'd like to know about this 'Silver Sword' too."
Rogue looked at him for a moment, as if considering his request. "You two were *really* cut off in that forest, weren't you? Don't you know *anything* about the Silver Sword?"
"Nein."
"Like, no."
Rogue sighed. A disgruntled, impatient sigh. "Fine, but only if we move on before it really *is* too late and we have a repeat of what went on back there *without* the miraculous escape. No walls around here to save us, shrimp."
"Fine!" Kitty snapped, getting shakily to her feet and stalking away. She looked back over one bony shoulder, calling irritably, "Well, aren't you coming?"
"I would if it were the right direction," Rogue jerked a thumb to her right. "Belvedere's this way. That is, if ya'll still wanna travel with me?" She looked pointedly at Kurt.
He sighed. "Where else can we go? Kitty has no home, and I...." He trailed off.
Again, for the second time in as many minutes, Rogue gazed at him, something akin to remorse at her careless words in those fathomless green eyes. Yet, just as quickly as it had come, it was gone. As was she, having begun walking away in the correct direction without bothering to see whether the two younger teenagers followed.
They trailed after her, as, deep down, she knew they would, listening intently as she explained.
"The Silver Sword? Huh. Where do I begin? I suppose I could start by telling ya'll he's the biggest, meanest, Seventh-Hell spawned Pebehock ya'll could ever not wanna meet."
"It's a man then?" Kurt reverted to scampering on all fours, being able to attain more speed that way.
"Man? Demon, more like. But yeah, he's male. Though what race, nobody's quite sure. He just kinda *appeared* a few years ago, and he's been causing all kinds of trouble ever since."
"Why doesn't someone do something about him if he's, like, so bad?"
"Too powerful. Or else they've already joined with him and his legions. Maybe in the beginning someone could've taken him out, but not now. He's got half the realms under his thumb, and the other half begging for mercy against his armies."
Kurt nodded sagely. "Which is why the Guild of Assassins joined with him, ja?"
"Quick, ain't ya? Yeah, that's why they did it. Better to be dominated than destroyed, they figured. Problem is, The Silver Sword don't allow native cultures to survive under his rule. He crushes them. Wipes them out, until the land or whatever it is that's 'joined' him gets completely absorbed into his empire. Another influx of nameless faces ready to go to battle and conquer somewhere else."
"Is that why Herr Logan was so averse to the Guild of Assassins uniting mit him?"
Rogue grunted. "Assassins value their identities above all else. Possessions, material things, they're all worthless compared to your name. In the eyes of an assassin, it's what makes you who and what you are. Titles are awarded according to conduct and success in the field, and they stick with you until you either earn a better one or die. To have your name taken away basically takes away your identity. Who you are. Everything. It's the ultimate punishment. Even worse than death."
Kurt averted his eyes. "I... I'm sorry. I didn't realise."
Rogue bit her tongue, hard. She hadn't meant to say that much. She was giving away Guild secrets to innocents; making herself susceptible by divulging too much information. The coppery tang of blood spread inside her mouth.
"Rogue?" the elf again. Gods, he was persistent. "Um.... what sorts of things does the Silver Sword *do* that make everybody hate and fear him so much?"
She sighed. "What *doesn't* he do? There have been rumours, stories, but some of the truth is even worse than the gossip. I've heard tell that he's some kind of powerful sorcerer - some say he's even from a different plain of existence altogether - and that he uses magic to enslave people to do his every bidding. Not that he really needs magic for that. He runs all the slave trading organisations - they were the first to join him, the cowards. I guess he just gets his kicks from depriving even slaves of what little free-will they have. He's constantly waging wars on anyone who won't co-operate or join with him, and when he takes prisoners he tries out new torture machines on them that his scientists have invented specially, or else he uses them as test-subjects in his magical 'experiments'."
"How horrible," Kitty's eyes grew round.
"And that's not the half of it. There's some stuff that's so bad, I'm not even gonna mention it. Even I got mah limits. Let's just say, if you take all the deaths in every land for the last ten years and multiply it by a thousand, you'll have a fraction of what the Silver Sword's done already. And what's worse is that he's still going, and getting stronger by the day."
"Man, I can't, like, believe that nobody's done anything to stop him," Kitty expostulated.
Rogue gave a short, barking laugh, totally devoid of any humour. "Don't kid yourself. Plenty have *tried*, but he's just too powerful. They're either killed off, or they disappear without trace in the night. Not even bodies recovered. The ultimate silence."
Kitty halted mid-step. "Hang on a second. And we're going to this guy's, like, *stronghold*, you say? As in where he *is*?"
Rogue turned, walking backwards and not breaking her lethally graceful stride. "*I'm* going to Belvedere, yes. What ya'll do is your own decision."
"I'm going with you," Kurt said stoically. "That is, if you'll let me. The last thing my mother ever told me to do was go with you, and I'll do everything in my power to honour her last wishes."
Rogue's eyes slid sideways at him. ~Was that emotional blackmail? Either this kid's really smart, or else he's so bereaved he doesn't even realise what he's doing. Personally, I'd go for the latter, but you never know....~ her thoughts were abruptly interrupted.
"If Kurt's going, then I'm going too. Like, no *way* is he getting out of my sight with *you* around!" This last comment was directed at Rogue.
The dual-haired teen clenched her teeth in an effort to keep silent and not rip the girl's throat out for her insolence. ~For the elf's sake,~ she told herself, but turned around to walk forwards again and sheathed her sword just in case the urge became too much. The shrimp *really* didn't know when to call it quits.
This momentary slip in her ice-queen façade went surprisingly unnoticed to her usually keen perception, though a pair of golden orbs noted it with a kind of poignant approval.
"So, like, how far away is this 'Belvedere' place, anyhow?" Kitty asked, lifting her decidedly grubbier-than-usual skirts and hopping over a small stone.
Rogue shrugged. "I'm not sure. Couple of weeks perhaps? Possibly more on foot."
"What?" Kitty raised her eyes, appalled. "You mean I have to, like, walk for a couple of *weeks*. I was thinking more, a few days. One week, tops. I cannot believe that I'm actually doing this voluntarily! I am like, totally, maddeningly insane. *Insane*, I tell you...." she carried on, descending into muted grumbling when she realised Rogue wasn't listening to her, yet unable to keep her tongue still.
Kurt drew closer to Rogue, darting in the manner of a nervous feline. His tail lashed this way and that, and his gaze was constantly roving. "Rogue? I don't mean to pry, but.... well, why *are* we going to Belvedere if it's so dangerous?"
Kitty's ears pricked up. "Yeah, why are we?"
Rogue said nothing for several seconds, and the pair began to wonder whether she was ignoring the question, as she was so apt to do to them. But then she spoke. Yet her voice was strange. Wispy, as if belonging to a distant memory or dream, and not the present moment at all.
"I'm going because.... because someone I used to know is there."
"Who could you, like, possibly know in a place like *that*?" probed Kitty, making it demonstrably obvious that tact was not her forte.
"Just.... someone," Rogue said vaguely, and some inexorable force told them not to question her further.
Suddenly, she snapped back into reality with a jolt, embarrassment showing behind her eyes at the temporary lapse. But the memories had been so strong. For a second, it had almost been like she was back there, before any of this happened. Before she was outcast from The Guild. Before she lost him. Before he ....
"Come on, hustle it up. I told you what y'all wanted to know, so let's move it!" Rogue abruptly quickened her step, legs eating up the ground at an astronomical rate. "We ain't stopping for a long while. Too close to the city. We got a long way to go before rest is a possibility."
"What?" Kitty cried again. Her remonstrations filled the early morning air along with the dew, filtering into the ears of her travelling companions like buzzing of angry bees. Kurt hung back to try and pacify her, but his words were stilted and false, as he silently mourned the loss of his only kin.
In this way they went on, advancing across the open, grassy country towards the woodland further on, leaving the dinginess of Zanninsa far behind them.
In the distance, Plechtoh, the first, and smaller of the two suns peeked lazily over the distant mountains, pale light streaking the ground and illuminating any moisture in the air into a haze of glittering jewels.
A new day was starting.
*******************
To Be Continued......
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TRANSLATIONS:
*GERMANIC*
Warum taten sie es? ~ Why did you do it?
Ich könnte Ihnen geholfen haben. ~ I could've helped you.
Warum sendeten Sie mich weg? ~ Why did you send me away?
Sie wußten, daß sie kamen, und doch Sie mich weg sendeten. ~ You knew that they were coming, but you still sent me away.
Warum tat sie es? ~ Why did she do it?
Elf, haben Sie sich zu bewegen. ~ Elf, you have to move.
Hier zu bleiben ist nicht sicher, und ich kann nicht Sie jetzt tragen. ~ It's not safe here, and I can't carry you.
Wohin gehen wir? ~ Where do we go?
Draußen. Die einzige Weise können wir gehen. ~ Outside. The only way we can go.
Herauf! ~ Up!
Können Sie sie anheben? ~ Can you carry her?
Nicht alleine. ~ Not alone.
Zusammen dann. ~ Together then.
Sind Sie ganz recht? ~ Are you OK?
*GEHíN*
Xopomo. ~ S'alright.
Gah lej, gah kef, vinel euhr Harun dim tageth. ~ Go safe, go well, may we one day fight side by side again.
EARTH-REALM TRIVIA:
Rogue makes a reference to the 'Seven Hells' in this chapter. The keen-eyed amongst you may also have noticed such an allusion in the prophecy contained within the Interlude.
General Earth-Realm belief cites that there are seven separate layers of the underworld, commonly known as the Seven Hells. The First Hell is inhabited only by mischief demons and the like, and though impish, its inhabitants are harmless enough. The nature of demons get worse depending on which Hell layer you find them, and in the Seventh Hell there is (quote from sacred texts); 'the burning throne divine, on which He sits, archduke of all demons and consumer of mortal souls. He that was cast from paradise at the first, and now serves only His own whim of destruction and fire.' Guess who *that* could be.