Brilliance: A Legend of Mana Story
Five ~The Nanten~
"I wanted the Dragon, not Deathbringer!" Vandal swore, stalking back and forth inside his tent. The twins ignored him, continuing to brush each other's hair, pale fingers running through the long locks. One had red hair, the other bright-blue. Both of their eyes were silver, with only the vaguest outlines of pupils could be seen.
Vandal himself wore tanned leather, all gray, with the edges rimmed in black fur. He had gloves studded with metal knuckles, and two short spears hanging from his belt. "Why the hell can't Kana obey orders?! If we had the dragon under our thumb, the Jumi City would be ours!"
"I follow one man . . . and that is not you."
Vandal turned, scowling towards the tent flap, as Kana entered. A veil of mourning was draped over her head, hiding a few of the precious stones bound in her hair. Her black dress was sheer enough that it covered very little. Still, she exuded sensuality, her every movement seemingly sexual, a breathy promise whispered in your ear.
"Who do you serve, Kana?" Vandal smirked, shaking his head. "You fawned over him so much, it doesn't surprise me he never came back."
Kana's smile froze, and Vandal grinned, knowing he'd hit his mark. "Aww, but he promised he'd come back. He swore it." Vandal stepped closer, putting an arm around her back. All she had time to do was put her arms up between them, succeeding only in putting her hands against his chest.
"He's dead, Kana. And besides, he couldn't bring himself to love you. There was room for no one else after his wife." Vandal leaned forward, brushing his lips against hers lightly. "I could love you . . . if you'd let me."
"A man was here," Kana said coldly. "In the camp."
Vandal sighed, letting her go. She scowled at him, readjusting her dress. "Oh? You don't say?" the warrior asked. "As opposed to the thousands of men that are here now, and have been for weeks?"
"He said he was looking for someone."
"Well, we all lose loved ones in time of war." Vandal laughed harshly. "You killed him, I hope?"
Kana smiled. "He put down Ganz with a single blow."
Vandal's smile slipped abruptly. "That is not possible."
"And yet I saw it with my own eyes," Kana said, stepping around him to where the twins were sitting, running her own fingers through the red-head's hair. "Still keeping the girl's in your tent?"
"Yes, yes, I'm taking good care of them. But I'd really prefer more stimulating company. Those two just lie there."
"Of course they do . . ." Kana smiled, walking around them, running her fingers over their shoulders and arms lightly. "They don't like men. Its why they are here."
"You're telling me, the great and mighty Godhand brought in two girls because they're dykes?" Vandal snorted.
Kana opened her mouth, but stopped when the tent flap slid open a second time. Vandal's eyes widened, and he fell back a step.
"No, Vandal. I brought them into the Nanten because of what they can become." The man grinned, and tossed his long white hair with one gloved hand. "Agony and Ecstasy are quite possibly the strongest among us, so long as they are together."
"Godhand . . . you're dead!" Vandal snarled.
"Hardly." Kana spat. "The Goddess herself couldn't kill him. Our dreams of a revived Mana Fortress will be fulfilled . . ."
The newcomer reached out, brushing his hand against Agony's cheek, and she pressed her face against it. He hissed through his teeth, pulling back when the material of his glove completely burned away. "Why haven't the Jumi fallen, Vandal? The Nanten are descended from a group of knights centuries older then this world. Why can't they beat those pieces of sod?"
Vandal swallowed, pointing at Kana briefly before dropping his hand. "She-she snared the Deathbringer, instead of his master. The Jumi's gates would've fallen if she had taken the Dragon!"
Godhand waved dismissively. "I can't believe the others let you take charge. You're incompetent, Vandal. I'd very much like to see you control a dragon with your sheer force of will." He lifted the tent flap, staring out at the city, where even now the battle was starting to rage again. "You have mercenaries taking a week to do what we could have done in a day. You have Ganz, one of our best, unconscious, because of a mysterious warrior that just happened to stroll into our camp. You have Kana raising our dead constantly, day and night, because you didn't think to simply knock on their door."
"Knock on their . . . what the hell are you talking about?" Vandal asked.
Godhand grinned, and gestured, exiting the tent. Kana grinned at Vandal smugly as she followed in her master's footsteps. Agony and Ecstasy remained where they were, brushing each other's hair.
Vandal raised his hand towards the retreating back of Godhand, pointing a finger at it as though he were holding a weapon. "Someday . . . someday you will die, and when that time comes . . . I'll make certain you won't be coming back."
*************
Elleira swore as the slash caught her cheek, blood flying upwards immediately. She backed off, panting for breath. Escad wouldn't let up, his eyeless face always turned towards her, eerily able to see and predict her every movement.
"You're too damn fast!" she swore, kicking dirt at him. "How am I supposed to beat you?!" He answered by lunging in, sweeping his blade upwards again, cutting into her hand as she went to block, sending her sword flying. It landed in one of the many piles of bodies, the point burying itself in cold flesh.
Elleria raised her fists, aware of how silly the gesture was. Only Riven practiced fighting bare-handed . . . she didn't know a single respectable move. Escad's lips twinged, almost smiling, and he started towards her, sword held at his side.
The ground shook, and the monster lost his balance, and Elleira reached behind her, grabbing one of her instruments. "DARK HARP!" she cried, strumming it once. The black energy flowed over him, pinning him down. When it dissipated, he growled, standing up menacingly. She swore, throwing the instrument at him. He slashed it in half, the two parts falling to the ground harmlessly.
Elleira briefly considered throwing her hair sticks at him, but thought she might as well die with a dignified hairdo. Something flashed in front of her, and suddenly Sierra was there, knives held ready.
"Stay back!" she cried, her knives crossed to block the downward cut of Escad's sword. "He's not what you think he is!"
"Just where in the Underworld did you come from?!" Elleira gasped.
"Shut up and find a weapon!" Sierra snarled, dancing away from a succession of slashes. Escad's face was a picture of fury now, no longer the cool, empty expression from before.
Elleira turned, scanning the battlefield. She could see Deathbringer in the distance, and scowled. (That bastard just won't stay dead. Is this his doing?) she wondered. A soldier saw her, and charged, taking her attention away. She waited until he was as close as possible before stepping to one side, and bringing her knee up into his groin. He yelped in a high-pitched fashion (as most men would) and she took his spear from his now-limp hands, twirling it around and driving it into his chest.
"Well, maybe I do know one respectable move . . ." she quipped.
Sierra leapt over Escad's blade, landing behind him. She spun, slashing at his back, but only catching the edge of his cloak. He didn't turn, instead, driving his blade backwards under his arm, nearly catching her leg.
The point of the spear dragged across his knuckles, severing his fingers, and his sword fell to the ground. Elleira grinned, swinging it around in a victory pose.
Escad lunged at her, knocking her spear to one side, and slashing her vest open with the sharp bones of his hand. "What the-?!" she cried, grabbing her chest. Blood ran out over her fingers, and she winced as salt from her fingers entered her wound. "Why won't you give up?!"
Sierra fell on his back, both knives driving into him repeatedly. He kept staggering forward, even under her weight, hand raised for another stab with the bony stubs of his hand.
Elleira grabbed her spear, roaring as she drove it into his face, through one of the holes where his eyes had been. Sierra swore and barely moved her head aside as he finally fell, the spear passing through his head and nearly skewering her own. Elleira could only breathe heavily, waiting to see if their efforts had finally killed him. When the corpse didn't move, she got to her feet, clapping her hands together once over his body.
"Rest in peace, Escad."
"You bitch!" Sierra snarled, and Elleira jumped back, a massive anime sweatdrop rolling from her forehead. "You could've killed me!"
"Sorry!" she said, sticking out her tongue. "Heat of the moment, and all."
Sierra sighed, rubbing her eyes. "This girl's a Mana Hero?" she mumbled.
Again the ground shook, and they both stumbled. "What is that?" they asked simultaneously.
*************
Larc and Riven both swore as they fell to their knees again, waiting until the earthquake passed. Barely anyone had noticed them passing through the battlefield, most of them too caught up in trying to bring down the Bone Dragon, and Larc's axe quickly silenced those who had. Riven had been making his way to the Jumi City with a single-minded intent. Pearl . . .
"Riven, who the hell is that?" Larc asked in a low growl, pointing ahead of them. They were a mere two hundred yards from the gates of the city, and all the space between here and there was filled only with corpses.
One figure was approaching the gates, casually waling among the dead as though he didn't see them, or the chaos of the battle behind him.
"I don't know . . ." Riven said, squinting. "I can't see . . ."
The man reached the gates, and raised his hand, knocking briskly. All sound seemed to fade away except for the ringing of the metal. Riven and Larc stared in horror, and the entire battle seemed to cease as the ringing grew louder, and the gates – no, the entire city – seemed to tremble. The gate fell, and the jeweled walls crumbled. There was a moment where everyone watching simply stared in shock and disbelief at the sight. The Bejeweled City had been breached by a single man . . .
The echo faded, and the man began walking inside, and Riven took off at a sprint. Larc said something, but he couldn't hear. He drew Kiijin and kept running. The man hesitated, looking over his shoulder, watching Riven coming at him. He grinned, shaking his head, and continued inside. Riven screamed, the sound quickly overtaken as the cries of victory from the Nanten swelled over everything. The mercenary army rushed towards the gates, and from this close, Riven could see the Jumi inside sobbing and screaming in terror.
The ground shook again, a hundred times stronger then the first two times, and then cracked, open, throwing soldiers everywhere. Riven slid through the rubble as he was thrown, landing hard on his chest. He drove his sword point into the ground, forcing himself to his feet. He saw he was next to the strange white-haired man, who was now staring outside the city. The Mana Hero turned back, trying to see what had happened.
Massive red wings stretched, and flapped violently, as the great red dragon freed itself from the ground. It lifted its head, roaring in the ecstasy of its freedom.
The roar was echoed by two others, as the Sky Dragon and the White Dragon came out of the sky, landing among the Nanten and Deathbringer's forces, slashing and killing hundreds in every sweep. The Red Dragon drew back its head, eyes intent on Riven and the strange man. Flame flickered from its nostrils, and it took to the air. Riven couldn't tell if it was going to rescue the Jumi or not. But based on their previous run in . . .
Lucemia arced down, snapping the dragon out of the air. The Red Dragon screamed in agony, slashing the inside of the giant snake's mouth, beating its now crippled wings against the creature's face.
The man beside Riven laughed harshly. "So much for a triumphant entry, eh?" he asked as Riven stared at him. "Dragons . . . such arrogant creatures." He started forward again, but Riven got to his feet, holding his sword ready.
"Stand and fight!" he yelled.
The man looked back at him, glancing at his weapon appraisingly. "This is not a story, boy. Courage and magic swords do not make heroes the winners in the end. Are you sure you want to die?" He tossed his head, and his mane of white hair glittered brightly, almost silver in the light. Riven said nothing, moving one hand to his belt, where his flute was tied.
The man shrugged, raising his fists. The skin on his hands shifted, changing colors, and growing, twisting, bones cracking and reshaping, becoming metal and gold. He flexed the weapons, which looked liked gauntlets, and gestured at Riven to come at him.
"I pity you, hero. I have the hands of god, and you have only a sword . . . a toy sword made by men." He smirked, hands glittering a dangerous and bitter gold. "Now die."