Chapter 10
By:Zosocrowe
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Ocean: Till the End of Time
I have merely borrowed a couple characters to create
a silly fan story. I have no money either
3/4/05
(Note: This chapter pushes the border of an R rating)
Albel sprinted around the building and down the main street, his sword drawn and gauntlet ready. His anger was gone, replaced by a sickening sense of dread. He would bet his soul that it wasn't monsters that were responsible for his foul discovery. Monsters weren't that picky with the corpses they left behind. Humans, however, were. There was no doubt in his mind.
It was a terribly disturbing probability, even for someone as unshakable as himself. His guts were knotted in disgust, his mind a whirlwind of questions. He had no idea how a village of simpletons could murder entire cities on their own without being discovered. Not only that, but why would they even go through all the trouble? What did they have to gain from such…such atrocities?
What ever it was, there was something sinister at work in the township of Plum. Normal people did not keep rotting body parts in hidden in wagons. Hell, not even most crazy people did things like that. He hated to think of what happened to the rest of those unfortunate peasants, but he was afraid he already knew.
They'd been eaten. Cannibalized.
It was so utterly absurd, he almost didn't believe it, yet he'd seen the evidence with his own eyes. There could be no other explanation for the contents of the wagon or the state of the corpses…if they could even be called that. There wasn't even enough left of them to be considered a full body. In fact, there was probably over a dozen different people in various pieces inside that cart.
But why? It didn't make any sense. He'd heard of humans eating one another, but the occasion was so rare and usually out of sheer desperation. Even then, most men would die before consuming their brother's flesh. Plum was poor, their crops failing, but not enough to constitute such a dire course of action. No one was starving. Everyone he'd seen seemed well fed and healthy.
Perhaps now he knew why.
Another scream pierced the darkening sky and Albel cursed. He and Nel had walked right into a hornets nest. Plum indeed…and it sounded like such a happy place.
The center of town was covered in a haze of dust and dirt. The scrimmage had already begun and he could see a loose semi-circle of villagers next to a small, brightly colored cottage. Inside the circle, Nel crouched over the fallen body of the boy, Leylan, daggers poised and ready for the next assault. Behind her a woman screamed from the door of the cottage, her eyes wild and dark hair a tangled mass of curls to her waist. Over and over again she cried the boy's name, her tone growing more and more frantic.
The portly mayor was saying something, his arms waving a small axe around in the air. Albel wasn't close enough to hear, but the fat little rat seemed to be trying to convince Nel to give up her blades. Nearby, two bodies lay on the ground, their weapons broken and guts spilling out like shiny pink belts about their waists. Oddly, no one seemed to be concerned about their fallen comrades and stepped over them idly as if they were nothing more than trash.
The other villagers pressed closer, trying to close the circle. They all had weapons of some sort. Pitchforks, axes, shovels, scythes, and other farming tools Albel knew not the names of. Even the women and children were armed with mallets and small knives. A few of the men held worn katanas, probably heirlooms passed down through their families or found while traveling between towns.
Hardly the grandiose arsenal Albel had expected of a town of murderers.
Nel said something to the mayor, her eyes unflinching despite the danger. Three men moved closer to her, but she stayed low, her body still and poised, like a snake waiting to strike.
Albel reached up with his gauntlet and cut the ties that bound his cape, letting it flutter into the dust behind him. "Nel!" He shouted, "Move!" He didn't bother to wait and see if she'd heard him. He let loose a massive air slash into the crowd.
Nel whirled, grabbing the back of Leylan's shirt and used all her strength to jerk him out of the way of the blast. The attack cut through the villagers, dissecting limbs and entire bodies. She ducked her head, holding Leylan's still form close to her as a cloud of dust and debris launched into the air. "Dammit, Nox!" She paused to cough, "Watch what you're doing!"
Albel charged past, his shoulder ramming a man with an axe. His gauntlet jerked upward, tearing through the soft belly of his enemy. With teeth bared, he tore the Greetonites spine out of his stomach, tossing it to the ground behind him.
The man smiled at him, blood gushing from his mouth. "Do you like it?" he asked with a throaty voice.
Albel blanched. "What?"
"Death?" the man sputtered. "Those who bring death…"
Albel stared at the dying man for a moment, trying to make sense of his words. "Bah," he snarled, rearing his head back and head-butting the villager in the face as hard as he could. As the man fell, he let out a gurgling laugh and Albel stabbed him through the heart. "You tell me," he growled, flicking the gore from his arm.
The woman behind Nel screamed louder, her eyes crazed with fear as Albel darted past and ran his sword though a second villager. He jerked his katana upwards, cutting through bone and muscle, severing the man almost completely in half. "Shut up!" Albel snarled at the hysterical woman, pivoting on his heel to catch another attacker in the face with his talons. He gave a hard squeeze and the burly man's head exploded, covering his own face in meaty, red and gray matter.
Nel used Albel's merciless attacks for cover. The villagers seemed more than preoccupied with this new menace and had forgotten about her for the time being. With both hands, she grabbed Leylan by the shirt and started to drag him out of the way. The woman rushed out of the doorway of her cottage and frantically pawed at Leylan's clothes, trying to help Nel get the boy out of danger.
Nel put an arm over his body, giving the woman a hard glare.
"I'm his mother," the older woman said in a shaky voice. "If we get inside, we'll be safe."
Nel frowned. Hiding inside a house was like locking themselves into a cage. A cage where they couldn't see, hear, or anticipate the next wave of assault. However, with Leylan's condition growing more and more urgent by the minute, there really was no choice. She'd have to improvise and hope that Albel did what he did best. Eliminate all living things.
Nel nodded stiffly, her gaze never leaving the other woman's face. The mother didn't seem to be infected with whatever was driving the villagers insane. Her eyes were alive, not dead and soulless like the two men that she had killed earlier. Then again, the villagers had shown no indication anything was wrong with them when they first entered town either.
Nel looked down at the barely breathing boy. For Leylan's sake, she would have to trust her.
Together they gathered Leylan and heaved him to the steps of the house. Nel looked up, checking for any approaching danger, and watched as Albel dashed through the crowd, cutting down a tall villager and then deftly turning a Hand of Doom onto a group wielding knives and chains. His movements were like some terrible dance, elegant and executed with graceful violence. It was beautiful, yet frightening to behold. "Come on," Nel said, looking away as he tossed a child of no more than twelve through a glass window. "Let's get inside."
As soon as they entered the cottage and placed Leylan on a small bench near the hearth, the woman turned and slammed the door. A dead bolt clicked into place and several chains rattled as they slid into their brackets. The woman picked up a large two by four and put it across the door, her hands trembling and breath quaking.
Nel pulled her dagger and closed the distance between herself and the woman, her shoulder catching her in the back and pinning her to the wall. She slid her dagger under the older woman's chin, wrenching an arm back behind her back. "Who are you and what is going on?" she asked, her tone dangerous.
The woman's eyes rolled back, terrified. "P…please," she stammered. "Help him first. I'll tell you everything."
Nel held the woman for a few moments longer, then decided she was right. Leylan came first. She owed him. The poor child had taken a pitchfork to the chest to protect her. She couldn't let him die so unnecessarily. "Fine," Nel said, moving to kneel next to the bench that Leylan lay on. "Start talking. What's your name?"
The woman began to cry. "Ru…Rusia," she replied over her tears. "Leylan is my son."
Nel tore open the boys shirt, hissing as she saw the deep wound in his chest. "You don't seem to be affected as the others are. What's wrong with them?"
Rusia gazed at Leylan with swollen, red eyes. Her shaking hand reached out and touched his hair lovingly. "Th…they've been cursed."
"Cursed?"
Rusia nodded slightly. "It all began about a month ago when several of the men happened upon a badly injured youth just outside the western most fields. He'd been attacked by some creature and was barely alive when they brought him into the village. He was a strange fellow, with long black hair and the palest blue eyes I'd ever seen. He was so…so effeminate I thought he was a woman at first glance."
Nel frowned as she placed a hand against Leylan's ashen skin and invoked a healing spell. "Was he human?" she asked, not looking up from her work.
Rusia shrugged and shook her head as if to say she wasn't sure. "We didn't think much of it. We took pity on him and treated his wounds. It only took him several days to recover, which was astounding. He said he was of the Tenma clan, who live just outside of the mountains of Citobor. He said his people were great sorcerers and prophets, capable of granting wishes and seeing the future. For helping him, he said he would reward our village by granting one wish."
"A wish?" Nel asked, startled. Wishes were tricky things and anyone who studied magic would know that there was no wish that came freely. No, they were costly gifts, granted only through sacrifice and hardship. "Those can be dangerous."
Rusia shrugged again. "We are a simple people. Times here are desperate, with the drought dropping our yields and the winter fast approaching. Most of the game has moved on to places with more forage and our wells are low. Starvation is a very real threat for us this year…"
Nel looked up, staring hard into the woman's eyes. "So you wished for food?" she asked, her voice grim as she began to piece together the puzzling actions of the citizens. "What happened to the other villages?"
Rusia visibly paled, tears springing to her eyes. She took a step back from Nel, shaking her head over and over again. "I…I had no idea it would go this far! You have to understand! At first it was just casual raiding, but then Orie became obsessed. He said the other towns didn't have enough either! He said we had to utilize everything within our means. Nothing was to go to waste! NOTHING!"
Swallowing hard, Nel stood up. Leylan had said the surrounding towns were murdered down to the last person. "What do you mean…nothing?"
The older woman slumped to the ground, sobbing. She stared at Nel through the slender fingers of her hands. "Th…they're in the store house at the north of town."
Nel's eyes widened. "Alive?"
Rusia shook her head slowly. "No," she whispered. "No…they've been…" She choked on a sob and slumped forward.
Nel could only stare at her, utterly awestruck. Dried and cured. That was what she was betting. Strung like weaner pigs in the worn down warehouse they'd passed by earlier during her tour of Plum and she'd been none the wiser. Revulsion rolled over her in a wave of nausea. No one was this desperate. No one would go to such atrocious lengths. Not an entire town.
"What exactly did you wish for?" she asked, her tone quiet.
Rusia's breath came in a shudder. "For enough food and supplies to live comfortably through the winter. That was all. The Tenma said it would be done, but we had no idea what he meant. Several days later, a group left to trade with the village of K'sid. When they returned, their cart was loaded with goods. Grain, meal, blankets and meat…loads and loads of meat…" She trembled and choked back a gag. "We thought our wish would be fulfilled by rain or game returning. We never expected for our people to become greed driven murderers! Somehow, bodies became stronger and invulnerable to most injury. The hunger grew to be animalistic. They couldn't help themselves! With each raid and killing, the need for more grows worse and worse. Now what you see is nothing but a shell of what Plum used to be!"
The sin of covetousness. Greed. The desire for material wealth or gain of some sort or another, known to drive men mad and make them do horrendous acts against their neighbors and brothers. Plum was infected, like a contagious disease killing their souls and rotting their humanity away. All because of a badly worded wish.
"Why aren't you like them?" Nel asked cautiously, her hand slipping to her daggers.
Rusia looked up, wiping her swollen nose with a dirty sleeve. "Leylan and I didn't sign the contract."
Nel's brows shot upwards. "Contract? You don't need a contract to grant wishes." This suddenly smacked of evil magic. Not dangerous magic, like a simple wish, but something vile. Demonic. It was starting to make more sense.
Surprise flashed across the woman's face. "I…I thought it was odd, but I wasn't sure. Leylan and I didn't sign the contract like the others did. A few weeks before the Tenma appeared in our village a woman from Mota came through town. She was an old peddler. Strange woman, actually. She approached me as I was hanging the laundry and gave me two pendants."
"Gave them to you?"
Rusia nodded. "Yes. She asked my name and when I told her she warned me not to give it so freely. She told me to wear the pendant and give the other to my son. She said the eyes of evil wouldn't see us if we wore them. I was terribly frightened. Especially since I never told her I had a son. We wore the pendants and when it came time to sign the contract, Leylan and I hid inside our home. No one noticed we were missing."
Nel ran a hand through her hair. Well, there was something to be said about the superstitions of peasants after all. Personally, Nel would have never taken or worn a strange pendant given to her, but in this case, it had saved Rusia and Leylan. They were quite lucky. "So, the others haven't noticed you're not like them? Why didn't you leave?"
"How? Where would we go? None of the surrounding villages were safe. Nor could two peasants like us make the trek to Peterny and live, let alone cross the Rebyc Plains. Not so close to winter, anyway. We planned to sneak away in the spring, as soon as the snow melted, and head for Mota. Until then, we had to maintain the image that nothing was amiss here."
Nel gave the woman a look of pity. How utterly terrible, being trapped inside a vicious circle of unending horror and not being able to break free. Most humans would snap, and frankly, Nel was shocked that neither Rusia or Leylan had killed themselves. For the rest of their lives, the mother and son would be haunted with the guilt that they allowed other people to be slaughtered and hung like lambs, just down the roadway from their home. It didn't matter that they were helpless to save them, but the selfishness of their desire to save their own lives would be a ball and chain around their ankles for eternity.
Was this the price of weakness that Albel was talking about? This suffering? Rusia and Leylan managed to survive, but at what cost? Nel shook the thought off to the back of her head. There were other things to worry about now.
She looked back at Leylan, who was breathing, but still very pale. The punctures on his chest were healed, but the wound was more dire than Nel had initially thought. The blood he bled was black, signaling a fatal wound, probably in his heart, but she'd managed to repair him the best she could. The rest was up to him. However, they couldn't stay inside the cottage. They had to leave Plum as quickly as possible, which meant Leylan had to be moved. Carrying him was impossible, but if they could reach the barn and the lum…
Nel frowned, thinking about the cantankerous beasts. The last thing Leylan needed was to be thrown and trampled by an ill tempered equine. She looked over to Rusia. "Are there any horses or oxen we can use?"
Rusia blinked at her, confused. "Umm…there is a pasture behind the barn. We have several ox and a horse we use to carry supplies."
Nel smiled. "That's great. I'll be back."
Rusia stood, stunned. "Wait! You can't go out there! You'll be killed! They aren't human anymore! They're monsters!"
Nel walked past her and undid the latches on the door. "Well, we can't stay here and if we want to leave alive, we'll need that horse. Don't worry, we'll get you out of here. Just sit tight and lay low."
Rusia fumbled with the pendant around her neck. "Here! Take this! They won't notice you if you wear it." She thrust it into Nel's hands, but the red haired woman closed her fist.
"No. You need this more than I do." Nel touched Rusia on the shoulder gently. "Protect Leylan. Protect him with your life."
Albel tore an arm from a woman and shoved her to the ground. "Stay down, wench," he snarled, pinning her with a heavy boot and driving his sword through her ribcage. The arm he held in his hand twitched and writhed, the fingers trying to claw and grab at him. He threw the thing to the ground, watching as it flopped like an wounded animal.
What the hell were these things? Short of decapitation or being cut in two, they refused to die. Not only that, they were inhumanly strong and he found himself spending as much time dodging as he was attacking. He'd already made the mistake of underestimating the crazed villagers, and it had taken only one hit to learn the people of Plum were not ordinary humans. In fact, he wasn't sure they were human at all.
He touched the large bruise on the side of his face and winced. It smarted, but nothing was broken. Lucky. If he had hesitated a moment longer, the shovel would have probably knocked his head clean off his shoulders. He wouldn't be making the same mistake twice.
The enemies were strong, but they had little speed and were clumsy with their weapons. They attacked often in groups, which were easily dispatched. Albel couldn't decide if they were just disorganized or if they'd thought he'd be an easy kill and not expected so many of their numbers to fall to one man. Even more strange, the people seemed to become more and more zombie-like as time wore on. They were slowing down, their strength increasing, and when he killed them, their eyes were dull and blank.
Albel straightened, looking about the empty street. Even in the full dark, he could see the scuffled dirt, littered with bodies. Most were completely still, but a few squirmed, trying to get up despite missing legs and other body parts. The ground was muddy with blood and gore, the wall of nearby buildings painted red.
How many were left? He'd lost count after killing the same person three times.
A quick movement caught his eye. He jerked his head around, catching a glimmer of white disappearing into the shadows behind one of the houses. He frowned and flicked the blood from his sword. It was too fast to be one of the mindless drones. He stepped around the corner, following the swift shimmer through the darkness.
The chase continued, winding around buildings and through alleyways until he found himself standing outside the large town meeting hall. A thin woman stood on the steps, her hair pulled back into a tight bun. She smiled at him, an odd twisting of her lips, her eyes wide. "Found you," she said with a garbled slur. "Found you at last."
Albel stopped at the foot of the stairs, glaring upwards. "What are you yammering about, maggot?" he snarled.
The woman giggled and hiked her skirt, pulling a long dagger from beneath the folds. "You look so pretty covered in blood. So ferocious. So terrifying. So erotic. You wear it well," She ran the blade over her cheeked, dangerously close to her eye. "Red is such a pretty color. So brilliant and primal. Don't you think? I know you do."
Unease settled into Albel's stomach. He didn't like this. There was something different about this woman. She wasn't like the others.
The woman cocked her head, like a curious dog looking at something interesting. She ran the blade between her breasts and smiled. "Have you forgotten?"
"Forgotten what?" Albel snapped, his hand clenching around the hilt of his sword.
"How amazing the color red is on a woman?" She looked at Albel through lowered lashes and gave him a thin smile. With two hands she sliced through both her breasts, amputating them both from her body. Blood emptied in a surge onto the stone stairs, pouring down the front of her torn dress. She laughed, dropping the knife with a clatter and rubbed her hands through the wounds.
Albel balked, his eyes widening.
He'd seen this before, but the show had been slightly different. The other woman hadn't cut off her own breasts, it had been done for her. There'd been no laughter either, just her endless screams ringing in his ears until he cursed her out loud to just die.
"Isn't it lovely," the woman giggled, holding out her red palms for him to see. Her dress was slick with blood, sticking to her legs and torso, glinting in the soft moonlight.
"You…" Albel whispered, his rage boiling up from the very bottom of his soul, consuming his surprise and shock.
He moved forward, not noticing the shadow that came at him from behind until it was upon him. He barely had time to move as the pitchfork caught him in the side. A shovel came down across his back, launching him across the street and into a pile of empty crates. Stunned, he struggled to right himself. The hit with the shovel had actually saved him, throwing the pitchfork off it's mark by several inches, but it still hurt like hell.
A large man came forward, smashing his square trowel down next to Albel's head. The slender warrior gave a startled curse and rolled out of the way. The pitchfork came at him, glancing off his shoulder plate in an attempt to pierce his neck. Albel grabbed the tool with his talons, splintering the wood with his sharp claws. The frail man holding it looked confused for a moment, but that passed as he tried to spear Albel with the jagged end of the stick.
Albel lashed out, sweeping the skinny man's feet from under him and kicking the primitive weapon out of reach. He reached for his katana, leaping to his feet just in time to dodge another crashing blow from the shovel. With a shout, sliced through the large man's hands, sending both forearms and tool spinning off into the street. He turned viciously to the man trying to get up off the ground and kicked him in the head. Once. Twice. Three times until the villager's face was a mangled pulp. With a hard thrust, he lanced the man through the skull, twisting the sword in a slow circle. There was a sickening sound of metal on bone and a mealy squish of fluid.
He turned with a snarl as the woman on the stairs laughed and clapped clumsily. "Always the artist. I expected no less," she said.
Albel launched himself up the stairs, slamming the woman into the wooden door so hard the frame cracked. The woman gasped, eyes widening for a moment.
"Get out here and fight me, you coward," he snarled, shoving the blade of his katana under her chin.
The woman stared at him for a moment, then gave him a slow smile. "I don't know what you're talking about. You mistake me for someone else," she said, leaning forward as if to kiss him.
Albel pulled back from her face. "Lies," he spat.
The woman gave him a hurt look. "It's true. I know you, but you don't know me." She sighed as if dejected. "Or perhaps it should be said you don't remember me. You weren't exactly of your right mind when we first met." She smiled then, wide, showing a straight line of teeth.
Albel frowned, his nostrils flaring. Only a handful of people knew what had actually happened inside Nox Manor that night in Airyglyph. There were at three alive who were present for the entire show. His eyes opened, his adrenaline speeding up.
The woman grinned and leaned against his sword, a thin line of crimson running down her throat. "You're wife was sweet," she whispered, licking her lips. "It wasn't my idea to kill her. If I'd had my way, I'd have taken her for my own pet, but Romero said she was too frail. I think he was right, but it would have been worth it for awhile at least."
"Avarice," Albel hissed, baring his teeth in an ugly snarl as he said the demon's name.
The woman threw her head back and laughed. "Imagine, the odds of you coming here. How exciting! But I have to say, you've spoiled my fun." She gestured with a hand to the massacre behind them.
Albel wanted kill the woman, tear her body to shreds with his bare hands, but she was nothing more than a puppet. A victim, just like Kasia and Kaine. Killing her would gain him nothing. The demon was somewhere far away, pulling the strings of his marionette from a safe distance.
"Coward," Albel spat, tightening his hold on the woman's shoulder. "You demons are nothing but trembling worms." He gave the woman a harsh shove, slamming her back against the door once more. "Resorting to trickery because you're too weak to fight a true battle. Worthless scum."
Avarice frowned, meeting Albel's eyes in a hard glare. "Be careful what you wish for, human. You aren't my toy to destroy, but push your luck and…"
Albel was sick of games. His fury thundered through him like a storm and he beat the woman's head against the brittle wood. "You're insignificant! Tell me where Romero is! WHERE!" His anger seized his brain and took control of his body. He was no one's toy, nor was he afraid of these vile, ridiculous creatures. Demons were worthless beings. The could only destroy, only intimidate. Alone, they were nothing and it enraged him that he'd allowed one to get the best of him. Allowed them to take from him what was his. He would see Romero dead if it was the last thing he did. Anyone, or anything, that stood in his way would be cut down.
He continued to shout in the woman's face, demanding to know where Romero had hidden himself. The body in his hands shook like a rag doll as he beat her against the side of the building. Several times she tried to speak, but the words came out garbled and nonsensical. Avarice was losing his hold.
Nel came about the corner, sprinting while a the lum jogged obediently behind her. Close behind was Rusia, with a rundown nag carrying Leylan draped across her back. "Albel!" she shouted, dropping the reins of the lum and darting forward. He was throttling a villager, yelling so loud he was practically screaming. Nel had never seen him so furious. He was half crazed, maniacal.
At the foot of the stairs, Nel's steps faltered as she took in the wild eyed, bleeding woman. She stared at the torn flesh where breasts used to be, her hand going to her mouth. "Apris save me," she whispered, her eyes tearing away to gaze at Albel. Had he done that?
"Romero! Tell me now! Where the hell is he?"
Nel's eyes flew wide. Romero? The demon that had killed his family?
The woman tried to laugh, but coughed harshly, a spew of spittle and blood flying from her mouth and onto Albel's face. Suddenly, she looked confused, her empty eyes coming to life like a blooming flower. "Ro…Romero?" she stuttered. "I…I don't…" She winced and looked down at herself, terror filling her face. "Wha…What happened to me?" Suddenly she screamed, loud and long like nails on glass.
Albel jerked away, as if bitten. His good hand went to an ear and he stumbled back.
Nel watched in horror as the woman came back to herself. The greed had left her and she was once again just a villager of Plum. The spell was somehow broken. She fell to her knees, her hands going to her bosom and pulling away bloody palms. She looked up at Albel with an ashen face, so sickly white the veins were visible beneath her pale skin. She screamed at him, tears filling her eyes.
Albel gave her a disgusted look. In a fluid motion, he swung his katana through the woman's neck, abruptly ending her piteous wails. The head landed with a thud, and rolled down several steps, where it sat gaping like a fish for several moments.
Nel turned away, only to catch Rusia's horrified expression. A thrill of cold numbed her from head to toe, like her blood had turned to ice. Brutality was something not unfamiliar to her. She'd seen the aftermath of battle and torture far too many times to be surprised by anything. It was the look on Albel's face, so frigid and unaffected, that pierced her soul. Somehow, it made the death that much worse.
Albel flicked the gore from his sword and came down the steps. Nel gave him a cautious look, unsure what, or if, to say anything. He passed by her, his dark eyes vacant. "Burn her," he stated.
"What?" Nel asked with a lit of disbelief.
Albel tore a piece of cloth from his ruined jacket. Bending over with a hiss of pain, he picked up the broken handle of some sort of tool and bound the cloth around it tightly. "Burn her," he said again, holding out the end of the make shift torch. "Burn them all."
Nel stared at him for a long moment, studying his impassive face. It was too practiced to be anything but a mask. The Albel she knew would argue with her and make remarks about her hesitation, but this man in front of her was being very careful not to show any emotion. Too careful. What had happened between himself and the woman? How did Romero fit in? She was confused.
A noise behind her made her turn and she saw the remaining villagers lumbering forward for their final assault. Albel was right, they would have to burn them all to keep them down. These people were no longer human and they would live on like zombies if something wasn't done. The killings had to end, which meant Plum would be no more. It was the humanitarian thing to do, for the sake of the villagers and for the remaining towns nearby.
With a pang of remorse and sorrow, she recited an incantation for her fire ball, her eyes never leaving the stoic profile of her troubled companion.
Phew. Another long chapter. (sigh) Another difficult chapter too. I wanted to be a bit more descriptive, but once again, my word count started getting really high, so I cut some stuff out. There's a lot of open ends in this chapter too, but they'll be explained soon, so don't fret. When I was writing this, I kept thinking of the villagers from Resident Evil 4 (they kill me almost instantly every time…I really suck at that game…damn not having unlimited ammo…) Anyhoo, thanks again for reading! Till next time!