Rawr! And here we are at last! Well, the next one could take some time; the coming week is going to be a hectic one. Well, I've kinda gone through the whole story and corrected some very silly things I did, and fixed a few typos. And, ohmigawd, thank you so much to all the people who reviewed. You guys make my day (sniff, weep). But yeah, I hope you enjoy this chapter.
The Not So Ordinary Dancer and The Acolyte of the Dark
Kyo was very afraid. Prontera Castle was a lot bigger than she thought it would be. She expected narrow, sparsely lit cobbled grey rooms with low ceilings…
Huh… she thought. What an idiot.
Gigantic white walls crammed with decorations, all royal decorations. Paintings; not the beautiful, haunting, almost-animate panels in the school in Comodo, but harsh blocks of bright, bright colours. Blearing, bright colours, screaming from the walls. The furniture was stocky and dark, probably more for show than comfort. The cushions looked like they were silk, but Kyo was convinced that they would be as hard as rocks and as cold as ice.
The barons flanked the walls, making sure she knew that no one was welcome. Their robes were dark, and they stood tall and sure. They didn't need to do much to look menacing. They had many, many reasons to disapprove of her…
"Your own recent crisis was something quite similar to ours, was it not?" the prince asked. He put Kyo in mind of Draco – detached, but deceptively attentive. He had plain brown eyes that didn't miss anything. She saw him give the guild an assessing gaze. She wished that she had been with them longer, that she was something worthwhile and not some scruffy survivor from a naïve northern town. She also wished that Hawk wasn't standing on the other side of the group, and that he was affectionate with her, and that she could ask him… something. She didn't know what. And she didn't care, as long as she could talk to him again.
"Yes. Phreeoni, it called itself," replied Taiken. "Shall we go after the… golden thief bug immediately then?"
"I thought you'd want to discuss payment," the prince said with a slight smirk in his voice.
Taiken frowned and gave an awkward, mirthless laugh. "We weren't expecting any, though it would be nice…"
"Oh, let's just not get paid," Ruriko sighed, tapping the toes of her boots on the ground – left left, hop, right right, hop… "Less fuss, right?"
The prince laughed openly. Kyo was very decided that he was more frightening than he let on. "Unique bunch, aren't you?" he chuckled, almost bordering on amiable. Kyo still didn't trust him. "Are you quite sure you want to leave immediately?"
Taiken looked around. Hawk, Oshi, Draco, Chisel… he stopped when he reached Kyo, frowning lightly… then Ruriko.
She had ceased her toe-tap routine, and was pawing the ground sheepishly. "Could I possibly have a loaf of bread?" she asked awkwardly. "It doesn't have to be a big loaf or anything, but I missed breakfast, and…"
The prince was somehow caught off-guard by the question, but the sage was soon devouring a warm, unbearably delicious smelling loaf with feminine daintiness.
As she ate, the prince decided to start expressing his interest in them. "Any ideas what this Phreeoni is? You all seemed to be able to get rid of it without too much trouble."
"We had a vague idea about what we were up against," Taiken allowed humbly, "but no real troubles. Ruriko frightened us a bit though…"
Ruriko became quite mesmerised by her little meal, and deaf, it seemed. Kyo noted the colour creep into her face.
Phreeoni was just… an empty shell. They all were. The thing to worry about was the thing inside… Kyo seemed to be the only one who saw that. She didn't know how she understood it, but she didn't want to understand it. She didn't want to sense the things she could feel. She would never have admitted it before, as any woman who thought this had to have something very wrong with her… all she wanted was for Hawk to be the way he was before. Before she did whatever it was she did that changed him. If only she knew… She felt like a pit of sighs.
She didn't want to be in this place, exposed, and where she would never be welcome.
She wanted to run.
You can run, a voice that was not hers hissed gallantly.
She was so close to screaming. A silent gasp, and a feeling that something was very, very wrong…
She craned her neck slowly around. That was the only place the voice could have come from. Behind her, where she couldn't see it, and she would be unprepared…
Her eyes said there was nothing there. An empty, richly decorated hall, with a suddenly gaping empty space. Very empty. Very nothing.
But there was something there…
Do not be afraid.
She stared at the space. Her stomach went numb and her limbs shook. It took a lot of thought to remember to breathe deeply, and slowly…
I won't hurt you, it lied with tender reassurance.
She had to stop listening to it… Go away, go away, go away… Surely, if she just turned away, it shouldn't attack her. But it would. It was angry. Very angry. Everyone else seemed so far away, in their own little conversation in their own little world of humans.
She wanted to run, but where would she go?
Where was everyone else…?
"Kyo?"
Don't trust them. The voice rasped, clicking instantly at the sound of a human voice. Who'd called to her? She didn't recognise them. She turned to face the person, surprised to find her vision searing out of focus. The world swam groggily in front of her, seeing everything as if it were underwater.
A deep sigh swam around her. It took her a second to realize it was her own breathing. The world fell into a husky haze of anxious faces and blearing walls.
She recognised the steely grey of Oshi's eyes. A swoop…! A blur… and the assassin's bland face became visible.
"Kyo?" he said again.
Her head hurt a lot. "What is it?"
She didn't receive an answer; Oshi was prodding Taiken in the arm… Oh no, Oshi, please…! Please don't cause a fuss…don't make them notice me…
"I'm not sure we should leave immediately." He addressed the whole room. In response, Taiken looked around to Kyo, and she tried to meet his gaze with indifference. And failed.
"Kyo, are you OK?" he asked as if he already knew the answer.
"Yes," she said. She tried to frown, as if wondering where such a question could have sprung.
"You look very ill."
She'd never felt words sting quite like that. It felt as if her heart had turned to lead and was trying to sink out of her chest. She knew a second later that she had winced. She stood rigid, and after a few seconds in which she almost recovered her poise, she replied, "Really?"
Taiken's frown deepened. He looked over to his right, where Kyo noticed Draco was stood.
A thin hand was pressed flat against her forehead, and she nearly reached for the sucasmad at her waist. However, it was the high priestess.
The woman frowned also. Never in her life had Kyo wanted more to just disappear and pretend nothing had happened. A hole opening up in the ground… anything, as long as she got out of there. She was afraid of a lot of things, a room full of people staring at her being one of them. Her hands were clenched into fists, and on her right index finger was the ring Chisel had given her, the one that gave her the power to teleport. Ruriko had explained it briefly…
"Fever?" asked Taiken.
"… Not really," replied Hester carefully. "She's freezing. As if she's been… dead for a while."
Kyo's foot was in the process of taking a step back. She couldn't tell these people her troubles… what she sensed…
What atrocity had she dug herself into? She suddenly became aware of the sweat prickling dryly at her scalp, and a lump in her throat that she had to swallow. She grit her teeth, and with a final effort ending with the promise that she wouldn't be the centre of attention anymore, she burst out cheerily, "I'm really feeling fine! Please do not worry yourself over me."
The first sentence was one of the most horrible lies she'd ever told, and the second was spluttered with bitter sincerity.
x-x-x
Hawk wasn't fooled. He wasn't expecting her to tell the truth, but… she lied. It was a bare, blunt lie.
He tried to remind himself not to be so resentful about it – it was probably largely his fault that she was in such a state. It took a lot of focusing to stop his eyes from widening; her face was quite an unnatural colour, and her eyes were wide and wary, even more so with her false content. She looked tired. Even her hair was limp around her face and sagged in its braid.
He couldn't look at her without the distinct feeling that he should be crying. In the process of turning around, he met Taiken's viciously quizzical gaze that informed him that the bard didn't believe her either.
"If you please, could we possibly not leave immediately-immediately?" Taiken said with carefully conditioned detachment. "I think we'd actually like to see around the palace. I know for a fact that Ruriko loves looking around huge places like this, and making a bit of a prat of herself in the process…"
Hawk made a quick, silent thank you to whoever it was that listened to people's prayers for Taiken's gift with people. The focus was quickly displaced, and the room became easy and smiling once more.
"Taiken, you big fat liar!" squealed Ruriko indignantly.
Tristan made a small, indifferent "pffft!" noise, and told them, "Mooch around as much as you want."
Ruriko proceeded to make a prat of herself; she leapt in the air once with a happy yelp, and had taken off down one of the passages, Draco striding with a brisk, domineering presence, and a horrified glance was passed through the line of barons.
Taiken and Chisel exchanged grins. "Come along, impish," Taiken said, beckoning to Oshi. The assassin followed without a word, and they were gone.
Of course, the bard had done this on purpose, but at this point Hawk really didn't care. There was something wrong with Kyo, and he was going to do whatever he could to help. He caught her eye and beckoned for her to follow. He detected bafflement on her face.
He was fairly baffled himself – he had absolutely no idea what he was doing. Or what was going to happen. He found, much to his surprise, that he really didn't care, as long as Kyo was feeling better at the end of it.
He walked as quickly as he could to an outside area. She walked behind. He tried stopping to let her catch up, but she just stopped as well. She avoided his eyes.
Alder was informing him that the grounds were really quite beautiful, and the hunter was eager to explore them. There were courtyards all over the place, and it was easy to find one. He held the door open for her, and she stepped past him meekly.
They were immediately stood in summer's dying sun, weeping its silver rays to brighten the slow soft wind. The sky was white and the wildlife was shivering from its bright jade green into cold brass.
He turned to address Kyo. He took a breath, when a little bird appeared in front of his face. Alder, apparently, was in the process of introducing the area to him. He asked the falcon why, holding up a hand for the new little bird. It couldn't hurt to be sociable, Alder replied nonchalantly.
"It can hardly have escaped your attention," he began to the dancer, trying to keep his voice bland, "that we need to talk."
She looked at him with a calm, searching gaze, actually allowing him to make eye contact. She broke it a second later.
"I know," she replied, in equally flat tones.
The little bird took off – she had little ones to feed. Hawk held out his hand, and the dancer took it. A small, rocky stream clapped cheerfully somewhere close by, the constant trickle of water icy and clear. The trees stood like columns, with thick dark foliage. He led her around a little path.
"As harsh as it seems, I'm afraid that there is definitely something troubling you, and you aren't doing yourself any favours by pretending that there isn't," was the first thing he said.
She stiffened, and sighed.
"I'm sorry I've been all… distant," he said. He would've sighed as well, but he had to finish his sentence. "But I do have a reason for being so; it seems selfish, now that I think about it. But I'm not being distant now, OK?"
For a short while, the crackle of cold grass, the sharp shrill birdsong and the flow of the mystery stream were the only things that could be heard.
"Do you remember when you and I were sharing minds? In the fight against Phreeoni?" she asked. She sounded tired. He replied in the affirmative. "You saw that there was… something possessing it. The thing that hates…"
"Hates? Why?"
"I don't know. It's angry. But… these monsters… the Lord of Death, Phreeoni, the thing in Gonryun, this golden thief bug… there are others, but really, they're just empty shells. It's… They can be possessed. That's what they were made for. But the thing possessing them… well, you've felt it."
Hawk remembered. It stormed right through his mind with its bleak determination. It promised the destruction of Midgard, and his own very painful death…
"And you sensed it when we were fighting Phreeoni, and you're scared of the golden thief bug?"
"Oh, they're nothing to worry about. They're just empty shells." She took a deep breath, and slowed down slightly. He became aware, suddenly, that her hand was limp and cold. Hester was right… she felt dead…
He turned to face her, to make sure she was still there. The thought of Kyo, dead, was too vivid and… horrible, just plain horrible.
"The malice… it's searching for me, and I don't know why." She shivered as she said it.
"Is it the… foresight? Is that how you can tell?"
"Sort of, but… it's trying to take over my mind. Look, I know it sounds really stupid," she burst out suddenly. Hawk jumped. "But it's making me feel so scared, I don't know how to get rid of it. I don't know where to run."
She was staring at him full in the face. She was staring at him with her bright violet eyes, pleading and voice cracking with tears. The previously limp hand was now clinging, tight and shaking.
"No, it isn't," he said, a little louder than he meant. He caught her by the waist, and brought her into a hug, though he couldn't think of a less appropriate thing to do. She didn't seem to care, as she threw both her arms around his middle and held onto him as if scared that she would simply fall out of existence. "It isn't stupid," he told her firmly.
She may or may not have been listening. She was shaking badly. Both her hands clenched the back of his shirt desperately, and she took deep shuddering breaths against his chest. It tickled a lot. A prickle of water told him that she was crying.
Alder, sensing her agitation swooped down to join both her and Hawk. The falcon crooned a soft, low note that he'd never heard before. He had absolutely no idea what to do or say, and was beginning to regret asking her. What kind of help had he expected he would be?
He gripped one of her shoulders in a desperate attempt to make her shaking subside slightly, and the other pressed her head closer to him. Shhh… he told her, Everything's OK… He told her again and again, until the words flowed of their own accord. The birds, the wind, the constant crackle of rustling leaves… it was so empty. He absent-mindedly stroked her hair, simply because it felt so soft, and didn't know what he was saying.
But slowly, miraculously, the endless trembling stopped. Her chest rose and fell with each breath, regular, slow, and deep. Her body simply relaxed, as long as he kept up his whispered mantra of Shhh, everything's OK.
The world rocked the couple gently in their iron cradle. She was still and cold, clinging to him as if her life depended on it.
Shhh, everything's OK…
"Why did you change?"
The question really took him by surprise. She raised her face to meet his eyes with her own. The hand that had held her head moved to her cheek, but he didn't know why. In a dream-like state, he lightly brushed away her tears, still carving dark channels down her features. Her eyes had somehow lost their brightness, and were now a deep, silky, woeful lavender tone. Her hair drooped and clutched her face like a fist. Her lips, like her eyes, had lost their colour, no longer the soft pale red. Her complexion was blotchy and tear-streaked…
And somehow it didn't matter. She was still beautiful.
"I was scared," he replied. It sounded stupid, a voice in his head was kind enough to inform him, but at least it was the truth.
"I didn't do anything wrong then?"
"Absolutely not."
The way she smiled at his reply both heartened and alarmed him. He wouldn't admit to himself why though.
"Well, to the important bit of business," he said, trying to not think about… what he wasn't going to admit just yet, "you're feeling better?"
"Much better."
He had sudden flash of inspiration. "Kyo? I know this is really random and everything, but…" He took out his knife, which made her frown. Wrapped around the handle was a black ribbon. He'd practically forgotten it was there, but it was actually a necklace. He unwrapped it, and carefully cocooned in the ribbon was a little heart-shaped jewel, carefully cut and rosy pink. "I'd really like for you to have this," he said, holding out the little pendant, which sparkled as the sunlight trickled through.
She smiled, her eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Should I be slightly concerned as to why a man just happens to be carrying around a very feminine necklace?"
He just smiled back. He didn't know why he kept it himself… "It used to belong to my mother."
The violet eyes lit up, though the rest of her face was kept under control. "I'll keep it if it makes you happy," she said, a little faintly. She turned and held her hair above her neck; he took the signal, and with a little click of the silver clasp, the rosy heart lay over her chest and the black ribbon was making a lovely contrast with her pale neck.
A memory was spiralling into a blur in his mind. It had no one scent, no one sound, and no one place. Where had his mother got this necklace…? Part of him knew, and wasn't telling. There was a very special reason why he'd just given it to Kyo, but he didn't know what it was.
In fact, he'd only remembered a few minutes ago that he even had it. When had he taken it?
And why hadn't he realized before just how messed up his memory was?
"This place is quite pretty, isn't it?"
He'd have forgotten where he was if Kyo hadn't suddenly spoken.
"Yeah. Alder says the rest of the grounds are even nicer."
"Well," she said, in a firm, happy tone, picking up both his hands with hers, "I shan't be happy until I have seen them."
She was smiling again. Her hands still felt cold, but the lavender eyes were vibrant with life again. Never in his life had Hawk felt such relief. He stopped thinking of his mystery past, because, quite frankly, there were more important things in the world.
The not so ordinary dancer, for example.
-X-X-
"Jigan, be reasonable."
"I know it's strange, but I'd just prefer it if we could keep Akiro here." Jigan was trying to be reasonable, but even he realized how stupid he sounded.
"I understand that you miss him," said Marius gently, "but consider Akiro's take on this. The academy is his home, but it's his place of work as well. You know him much better than I, but I know him well enough to see that when he is incapacitated, as he is, he isn't going to want to be sat doing nothing in his place of work amongst those who respect him." Jigan made no reply, and after a pause, Marius prompted him, "Do you see what I'm getting at?"
Marius said it was a great strength to admit being wrong. "Yes," Jigan sighed back. Marius was never wrong.
The champion surveyed him carefully with his inhuman tranquillity. "We'll take good care of him, and you can visit whenever you wish. I understand that you're all worried about him."
"It's just… he did a very brave thing, but he'll be kicking himself about it…"
"Yes, he's a terrible perfectionist."
Marius had an infinite capacity for calming peoples' worries. Jigan was almost a little miffed at no longer having an excuse to be grumpy. He felt better.
He didn't have time to dwell on it, as the unhurried footsteps of someone wearing heels were pounding damply down the stone passage. The school had its fair share of students out of bed in the middle of the night, but they were normally up for long silent study periods in the library. None of the students were troublemakers – learning magic required a focused and sensible mind – and the last thing Jigan wanted to do was discourage them. He was supposed to thwack them around the head with a large blunt object, and send them back to bed with a lecture to dwell on. He did this to a certain extent; he tapped them on the head with his fist, gave them whatever book they were trying to read, and told them to at least study sneakily behind his back in their own room where he wouldn't catch them.
But none of the students wore heels, and the only one of the Masters who did was Fieri.
But it wasn't Fieri; it was Arche.
Jigan could hardly believe it – he hadn't seen Arche for four years, when she was fifteen. Her hair had been long and a dull brown, and she had been quite podgy. Now there was a new slimness to her body, and it wasn't just the extra foot or so added to her height; suddenly, there were sharp narrow features on a sharp narrow face. She was bony and slight, with a healthy tan and new burst of freckles over her nose. Her hair was short and light brown; it flicked out at odd angles around her shoulders, even more so because of the plain dark grey bandana tied around her forehead. A slim pair of glasses was perched icily on her nose, making little white rings around pale blue eyes. A thin robe of jade-green silk was tied lazily at her waist, emphasising what little shape there was to her hips.
The only inclination to say that this woman wasn't any ordinary sage was the turbulent calm that stewed the air around her and the deep dark accusatory gaze that mirthlessly said, "confidence."
"How's it going," she sighed as she reached them.
"So-so. How are you?"
"Hungry, tired, not especially chirpy, got into a few more scuffles than I meant to." She sighed again.
"You're not happy about taking this job," said Marius with his all-knowing tone. He stared her straight in the eye, and she stared back.
"No, I'm not," she replied evenly. "I'm going to be such a rubbish teacher."
"You don't know that."
"Well, let's say I do. Where are the other Masters? Having a late night contemplating existence binge in the retirement room?"
"Um… yes."
"I think it's a bit unfair, this little bit of hypocrisy surrounding late night wanderings; you know, when I was a student here, Orius hit me across the head with that old oaken staff, because I was trying to get a book out of the library. I still have the bump from that…"
"Well, apparently I'm incredibly lenient," replied Jigan happily as Arche gingerly pawed the back of her head.
x-x-x
Arche was feeling very nostalgic. The retirement room door swung slowly open, and brassy firelight poured out. The smell of burning wood and musty books swam to greet her warmly like a lullaby. The warmth and her heavy aching feet carried her towards one of the tall stocky red chairs, and she toppled into it with a light yawn.
"Arche," proclaimed Orius, his voice as warm as the fire. Her cheek was brushed with his vague dry kiss, which she returned drowsily. "I hope you are well?"
"I am."
"And you're absolutely sure you're willing to fill Akiro's post?"
Arche gave a small, dry chuckle. "I'm absolutely sure. But I can't guarantee sparkling results."
"I was thinking of asking one of the high wizards… the barons are eager to be rid of them as soon as possible…"
"It's difficult for wizards to teach sage magic," Arche said with a slight sigh. "Also, the high wizards are still quite distraught."
"I was going to take all but one of the high wizards to Gonryun Sanctuary," mused Marius nonchalantly. "Pridith and Jiro need medical attention, their mental health isn't really in peak condition… and Elle is my daughter."
"And Arne?"
"Arne and the prince have become good friends. I believe neither would benefit if they were moved away from each other."
"Doesn't he need medical help? If the others…"
"Oh, he needs it," the champion replied in the same even tone, "but there's nothing I can give him that the prince can't."
Too soon, Marius was bidding his farewells and wishing Arche good luck, and with a teleportation chant and a flash of crystalline blue light, he was gone, and the focus was back on the woman slumped wearily in her chair. She answered the others' questions in as few words as possible. Jigan asked what she meant about getting into more scuffles than she meant to, and she recounted her argument with the idiot barbarian from that afternoon – she was surprised when they laughed. She couldn't be bothered to ask why or be indignant.
"I can talk you through your duties, or if you're too tired we can wait until the morning," Orius offered kindly.
"No, I'm not tired," she lied. She'd been woken up in the middle of the night by a storm, having almost slept an hour or two under a tree by a very noisy river, so she got up and had to keep a heat barrier to keep herself dry while she looked for a village of some sort for several hours until it stopped raining and then she stumbled into one around lunchtime, got into a fight, warped to Yuno and spent the rest of the day tramping around the vast bustling city restocking her dwindling supplies.
Whatever energy she had left fizzled out with a friendly wink. The chair was so comfortable, the room felt like hot bath, and then there was the merry crackle of the fire and the deep hum of Orius's voice… Her eyes slid closed. The world was a lot easier that way. A second later, she heard Orius's mountain-like laughter.
"Just like having Akiro back; honestly, put him anywhere you like, and he has this strange ability to just fall asleep anywhere…"
-X-X-
Robin was a blonde girl with bright eyes and shoes that were too big for her. She was born in Payon and raised in Amatsu. Her mother's Payonese cousin had named her, because her mother had lost a bet.
She'd grown up with the names Robin and Curiosity. As a girl, she developed an unfortunate habit of chasing frogs. At the age of five, she followed one to a rather remote river, which looked clear and calm enough. Leaning far over the bank and pawing the stepping-stones, she forgot something very important – namely checking just how far she was leaning over. Needless to say, she fell in. She was washed downstream with frightening swiftness. For someone who hadn't yet learnt to swim, this was a confusing and terrifying experience. A crusader had been passing, and he told her later that he'd heard her screams, to which she insisted that she wasn't screaming. In a stunning display of speed, he stripped off his armour, dived into the river, and he carried back to town, where he was met with applause and thanks, and she was met with lectures.
This little event in her life led to her nickname and the beginning of her dream of becoming a swordsman.
She was hunting in the Payon caves, with a band of friends. There were four of them – Robin Aska the swordsman, Ghost the acolyte, Mikoto the mage, and the solitary and slightly frightened boy, Dante the archer. Dante was somehow enjoying himself, despite the fact that Mikoto and Ghost ganged up on him in silent raging storms, and Robin would usually accidentally join in. He was a frail little lad with neatly combed hair, which he did his best to mess up. He had the characteristic blue Payonese eyes, but they were unnaturally wide.
Mikoto's class had been allowed out of school for a little while. She tried to explain how the Yuno Academy teaching system worked, but when she was met with blank stares, she huffed angrily, picked up her staff and set off deeper into the mountains by herself. Robin knew better than to leave an inexperienced magic user by themself, and padded after her.
Mikoto was eleven going on thirty-five. She was a haughty, unpleasant sort of girl, with a condescending dark blue glare from narrow heavily lidded eyes. Her hair was pulled into immaculate black pigtails in front of her shoulders by thick silver clasps. Her calmness was icy and her temper was stormy.
Then there was Ghost… Robin turned to see the acolyte holding her little black cat doll in front of her face, chattering faintly with her strained smile. The only time Ghost ever smiled was when she was talking to that doll. Robin felt sorry for her, but listening to other people's conversations, she soon found that she was only with enough compassion to be so.
"Well, you stupid man, why don't you scout ahead?" Mikoto's blade-like order made Robin jump. Dante knew better that to allow the mage's temper to spill over, and so started off down the narrow passage, throwing a sighed, "Yes, Mikoto," over his shoulder as he went.
"Don't be too long," Robin warned him.
They were currently in the process of finding their way out of the mountains. It was getting pretty dark, and Ghost and Mikoto were taking turns in igniting spells of sight. They were quite deep into the mountains. Mikoto sat down wearily, and Robin followed suit. Ghost stayed stood. The little ball of bright blue light flew to her cupped hands, and she held it some way ahead of them. It was a crossroad.
"When we set off again, which way should we go?" asked Mikoto.
Robin flipped a coin and said right. Ghost said she had a bad feeling and suggested left.
The atmosphere was dank and shadowy. It was colder inside the caves than it was outside. An underground river trickled icily somewhere. Ghost leaned over a well and peered into it.
"What do you think?" she asked her doll. She listened to the silence. "Yes, exactly what I think… No good…"
Mikoto groaned and rolled her eyes. Ghost ignored her. Robin played with her duel swords.
Dante returned a couple of minutes later from the right-hand passage. He had his bow drawn and notched. He'd run, it seemed, as he was quite out of breath.
"Anything to report?" asked Mikoto, not showing a shred of concern for his safety.
"Are you alright?" asked Robin, holding her weapons still.
The archer paused, frowning in what could only be fright. "Ah… depends by how you mean that…"
"What is it?" demanded Mikoto.
"Well… there was this lady. She wore a big red hat, and she had this talisman over her face so I couldn't see who she was… well, she saw me and… she's following me…"
"That's Munak."
"I beg your pardon?" spluttered Robin. The name sounded vaguely familiar, but…
"A legendary dark priestess in training," Ghost replied blandly. "She-…"
"Can we please just be making scarper plans?" panted Dante desperately. It was the first request of his that they followed through without question. They turned instantly and hurtled down the left-hand passage. Ghost ran in front, with the azure spell of sight illuminating the place into a murky, swamp-like terrain.
"When can we stop?" called Mikoto from the rear of the group, every other syllable accented with a thud as her feet hit the ground.
"She's still following us," Ghost informed them.
"Whoa, let's take a break quickly!"
The acolyte stopped immediately, and Robin brought the other two to a halt. Mikoto nursed a stitch in her side with a sigh of pain. Dante clearly wanted to be moving on very quickly.
"Ghost, you know about this Munak person," Robin panted as evenly as she could. "Tell us about her. Not the legend," she interjected as the acolyte took a breath, "her fighting abilities. Quickly."
"She is a dark acolyte. She can teleport accurately. She can use shadow-element attacking spells. Her protection barriers will be flawless."
Robin blinked, now in a bit of a daze. "But if we were to turn around and attack her, would we stand a chance?"
"No."
"… Really?"
"We wouldn't stand a ghost of a chance. We are weak."
The swiftness of the reply stung. This wasn't good. Munak's tale dated back hundreds of years ago. If it was indeed Munak who was following them, then she either had to be immortal or a walking corpse. Flawless protection barriers… they couldn't harm her. Accurate teleportation… they couldn't run. Shadow based magic… they had no defence against that. And they couldn't get out of the mountains – they hadn't seen any other people for quite a while, they must've been in a very remote part. Where was the exit? And even if they found it, was there any guarantee that Munak couldn't follow?
"Ghost, can you warp us out?"
"I don't know all of the incantation, and I have no gemstones."
Robin nodded stiffly. She would really like to shrivel up into nothing, as long as she didn't suffer a very painful death my Munak's hands.
"She approaches," Mikoto said, with the look on her face that suggested that something had suddenly been made clear to her. "We must make haste."
They started on another agonising sprint. What am I supposed to do? The sight spells danced haphazardly, making the environment jagged and unclear. Robin could barely see the ground in front of her. The darkness looked solid. The words "accurate teleportation" loomed across her vision.
We are weak.
They burst through a muddy arch into a vast space – the light wasn't thrown over any walls. Just how big it was remained unknown. It felt miles wide, every inch of it aching to be occupied.
Pat pat pat pat pat… No more than a few steps before everything spiralled out of control. The air shook with bright blue light. No… not that… Everyone knew what a teleport spell looked like.
A bright red acolyte's robe emerged, and as the spell died it became a murky scarlet colour. Munak wasn't immortal. She was very clearly not alive. Her arms drooped at her sides. She was tall. The talisman hung like a noose from the enormous red hat; it hid her features, but white skin from years of darkness and death peered from around it.
The most disconcerting thing was the way she moved towards them. She didn't seem to be doing any movement herself. She floated a few inches from the ground. She levitated towards them.
"Oh no…" The gasp erupted from Robin. Shivers were knifing her spine with metallic cackles. "We really don't stand a chance against her?" Surely, fate couldn't be so cruel. There was such a thing as mercy, wasn't there?
"We do not," Ghost replied with no hint of emotion. "Issen a-yu stai."
A Holy Light spell grew bright white and exploded some way in front of Munak. A barrier boiled with a dark blue tone.
There was a moment's hesitation amongst the group. After a second, Robin took her place at the front of the group, clenching her swords with something a lot deeper than fright. Munak did not hesitate.
"Tari fo-yu stai," replied Munak in a soft, feminine voice. There was nothing in her tone. Nothing. Robin had never heard the incantation. Something black erupted in front of her and exploded. It burnt, and she blinked blood out of her eyes.
The swordsman grit her teeth and swung her right sword around in front of her, and she met a barrier. It was very solid. Munak closed in.
Her fright flashed in front of her eyes and she leapt back. Shards of ice flew from over her shoulder, like something from a dream. The ice struck the very solid outer-barrier, the cold struck one behind that, and the magic struck one behind that. Mikoto threw her hands over her mouth.
Dante fired an arrow. It should've hit Munak's shoulder, but it stopped at the barrier, and fell to the ground. It suddenly looked so much more like a stick and a bit of metal and much less like an arrow.
Munak loomed ever closer. Robin stumbled away. Another Holy Light crashed into a barrier. A silver-tipped arrow bounced off another. A trail of ice erupted from the ground, making a path that stopped some way from the dead woman. Munak didn't stop.
Robin took a few steps back, wondering what to do. She was about to turn around and run; then that beautiful voice spoke again: "Tari fo-yu stai."
She tried to dodge back, but the blast caught her in the chest. Her armour took the shock, so she wasn't hit. But she stumbled as if a hammer had smashed into her chest, tripping over a thick dead branch, and the air was knocked out of her lungs.
The world spun. Her mind screamed. If she didn't get her breath back and get back up again now, Munak was going to catch her and Munak was going to kill her.
Munak is going to kill me. I'm going to die.
Robin shot into an upright position, gasping dry air. She looked up and found a pair of pretty, almond-shaped eyes, heavily lidded, drooping with fatigue, and staring at her ruthlessly. A dead glare.
She saw something move from somewhere, and saw Munak's gloved hands rise jaggedly into the air. Robin threw herself to the side, and saw the corpse's hands close on thin air. She felt considerably more fragile.
Munak turned, and floated away from her. Robin stared. Someone was being very kind to her… But Munak was moving for Dante.
The archer stared as the woman in red closed the gap between them with every desire to kill him. It wasn't even desire… it was obligation. He stood, shaking visibly, even in the terrible light. He screamed. He ran.
Munak whispered something nonchalantly. In a wave of blue, she disappeared. She reappeared again in a ceremony of bright azure. Robin saw several things before the light of the spell died away. She saw Dante run and almost stop in a shadowy enclosure. She saw Munak appear in front of him and look down at him. She saw Dante run into Munak's hands. She saw gloved hands seize Dante tightly around the neck. She saw Munak lift Dante into the air. She saw Dante retch.
And then it was dark.
The archer still screamed. There was a frantic swishing of someone wearing cotton thrashing violently. The screaming waned dramatically into a gulp. The gulp became a weak groan that stretched throatily.
The cave was in darkness. Where was Mikoto?
"Mikoto! Light a spell again! I need to help him!"
A little moan noise edged between the rocks a little way behind her. It was clear enough that it meant no.
"Mikoto! Do it!"
The same moan noise followed.
She was about to hail Ghost, but the acolyte was already shouting a chant that wasn't a spell of sight…
Ghost disappeared in a wave of blue light.
She'd teleported away…
Robin couldn't move for a second. The only sound in the cave was the tune of Dante's desperate struggle for breath. Then something sank in. Something penetrated Robin's mind: She left us.
She abandoned us.
"NO!" Robin screamed, but she couldn't scream it loud enough. "She left us! That filthy backstabbing bitch! Heartless! How could she!"
Robin shrieked. It wasn't fair. Shrieking wasn't enough. She was lost deep within the Payonese mountains. Munak was killing her friend. Ghost had abandoned her. She was going to be killed.
A thing she really didn't want to hear brought her to silence. There was a last, strangled gasp that didn't reach his lungs, and the noises of Dante's struggle stopped.
Dante was dead, and either she or Mikoto was next.
"What do I… How… Help…" She wanted to scream again, but her voice had fled. Mikoto's spell of sight flooded the cave again. She could see Munak heading towards her. Anger throbbed painfully in her head. She spun around to find the mage, disgustingly pale, clutching her staff like a doll.
Indignant. Angry. Swirling like a storm. "Why didn't you do that before?"
"I couldn't," Mikoto snapped back, though without any trace of her previous calmness.
Munak was very close. She didn't seem to be at all effected by the fact that she had just throttled a ten-year-old archer to death. She just gazed at her next target.
Robin stared. She had to do something. She wouldn't just sit idly like Mikoto. If Munak could grab Dante through those barriers, then she could counter. Munak was quick though…
Without any warning, the dead woman's hands were raised again, and they'd be around Robin's neck in a split-second…
With a shout, the swordsman brought both swords across Munak, making two slices in the woman's torso. This had no effect. Robin grunted in frustration. She could fight. Calling on hidden reserves of strength, she swung her leg as high and as hard as she could. This knocked Munak's head to the side slightly. A little shock in her brain told her to, so she picked up the branch where it still lay by her ankle. It was heavy, more of a log than a branch. She smashed it into Munak's head, and heard a crack. She smashed again, and again… she didn't know what she was doing. She didn't know what her arms were doing, but whatever it was it seemed to be working.
She brought the not quite weapon down in a ferocious vertical bash. A crack of bones followed. She stared at her target – Munak's head was bent at a very peculiar angle. It was tilted left and leaning back, but the last hit had knocked her neck down so that her head was level with her chest. Robin dropped the branch and took several steps back. Her arms screamed in pain. It seemed she had just… won…
But surely the sensation of victory was something spectacular? And was nothing like dread…?
Munak was still levitating the same few inches above the mud. Nothing had moved except her head and now formidably mangled neck. She had already been dead…
Crack. It sounded like an explosion. Another crackle of bones sang its jeering tune, completely dead and still. Munak raised her head, stretching her neck, tilting, craning… the cracks carried on like a ripple. Robin winced with each one. Munak tilted her head to either side, then straightened, looking as if nothing had happened.
Robin had been fighting the numbness that threatened to settle into her body. She stopped fighting. She was exhausted. It was hopeless.
She couldn't move.
She gaped at Munak as she resumed her journey towards the swordsman.