The New World
"And what would you have me do this time, my queen?"
Steve closed his eyes slightly as her pale hand descended to caress his cheek. Luckily for him, he had always been one of Voira's favorites.
The affection was brief, and just as suddenly she withdrew her hand. The blonde man dared not look up, and instead kept his eyes to the ground. He knew well when to show respect, for although he was one of his mistress' favorites, Voira was not afraid to kill anyone she pleased. She had, after all, murdered her own husband, and had sent the entire village of Sythe to their doom.
"The same as the others, my little fox: Destroy them all, leave no survivors. We cannot risk it. The Spirit Child may still walk as we speak," was her cool reply, and her voice reminded Steve of the icy frost in the winter.
"Of course, milady, as you wish," was his obedient response, and the sorceress smiled.
"You have always been so loyal to me, Steve. Of all my men, I trust only you."
"Thank you, milady. You are very kind."
At this Voira frowned. "Some do not think so. Some think me an evil witch, a cold-blooded killer. But I am not that, my little fox. I am merely a teacher, righting the wrongs of Elysium. Vengeance is only half of it. Wouldn't you agree?"
Of course Steve agreed. He always agreed. If he chose otherwise, then he might as well have chosen death.
The blonde man nodded without hesitation, and since his heart had been so greatly warped to love Voira, the man actually believed in her words. The sorceress smiled in contentment, knowing full well that she had him playing in the palm of her hand. He was just another pawn and he didn't even know it.
After all, Steve Fox was Voira's right hand man, and he did everything she ordered him to do. As of now, his task was to ransack villages and murder all that stood in his path, all for the search of the dreaded Spirit Child, the one being that could bring down Voira. Steve, blinded to the sorceress' evil and cruelty, did everything she asked without question. He truly believed himself to be in the right, even when he murdered countless innocents and destroyed numerous homes.
Suddenly, Voira turned on him in a rage. "But tell me Steve: if you are truly so loyal, then why does Thade and Gira still stand! Did I not tell you to destroy them all, to leave no survivors?"
The blonde man recoiled, his features contorted in a mask of fear. Would Voira believe him if he told her the truth? Well, he'd have to try, because if he didn't at least say something, she would kill him where he stood.
"Milady, you must listen to m-me—"
Voira lifted her hand slowly, and Steve could see the silver tendrils of light already beginning to form about her fingers and forearm. Just a hint of her magic could kill hundreds of men in one moment, and Steve held up his hands.
"No, wait! Give me a chance!" he pleaded.
The sorceress smiled cruelly, and the silver light faded only slightly. "Speak."
Steve exhaled in relief and began. "Milady, you must first understand that I will forever remain loyal, and I had every intention of destroying Thade and Gira. But…but somehow we could not."
"And how is that possible? They are mere villages inhabited by dim-witted humans! How complicated a task is that? Must I do everything myself!"
"Listen to me. It was not a human that prevented us from infiltrating these villages, but…but magic. There were powerful spells at work around Thade and Gira, and it would not allow my men or me to touch it! Our skin burned every time we attempted to go near."
At this, Voira paused, the silver spell dying beneath her fingernails. She had never heard of this kind of magic surrounding simple villages. No idiot villager was capable of conjuring a spell so powerful after all…unless one of them happened to be the Spirit Child that is.
Was it possible the Spirit Child had created these barriers in Thade and Gira?
"Interesting…is that all?" she whispered.
"No," he continued, "after hours of trying, three of my men, led by Helize, finally created a spell of protection that granted them temporary safety when they entered, just long enough for them to go in for a look, and then return. It was dangerous; they nearly died casting it, but they succeeded."
"So the barrier was strong, not the work of an amateur…and what then?"
"I ordered them to abduct the chief."
"How stupid. Why would you do that?" she snarled, but Steve barreled on.
"Just listen. Since the spell was temporary and since my whole army could not enter, we had to make a plan. My plan was to kidnap the chief and in doing so, Thade would become leaderless; thus, it would weaken. Either that, or it would lure their people out of the village, away from the magic's protection. And when the villagers come seeking their chief, they will all meet their end at my sword's blade."
Voira thought awhile for a moment, then uttered, "The same for Gira?"
"Yes, though I do not know the outcome of that village yet."
The sorceress closed her eyes, pondering all of this. After awhile, she smiled slightly.
"You are cunning as well as loyal, Steve; your name suits you well. Good work. I apologize for my outburst," she said softly, and Steve bowed in response.
"Of course, milady, but I am glad we have reached an understanding."
"And did you succeed in obtaining Thade's chief?" the sorceress inquired, eyebrows raised.
At this, the blonde man smiled slyly. "It succeeded very well, milady, for we did not get the chief himself; we got his daughter. It was Helize's idea."
Voira smiled coldly, thinking it over. Why, she wondered, why would Helize want to take away a mere girl when she had the perfect opportunity to take the leader? However, Voira knew Helize well; she was an intelligent woman and would have her reasons. The sorceress decided to accept her actions and question the warrior later.
"Well, then I shall thank Helize for her wisdom. I hadn't thought of that one before."
Steve, fearing the worst for Helize, immediately interjected, "Milady, please, I'm sure Helize has a good reason for taking the girl instead of the chief—"
Voira laughed softly, shaking her head. "You need not worry, Steve. I will not hurt Helize; I only want to ask her a few questions. The girl is rebellious, but she serves me well, and her skills are needed in this war."
The blonde man sighed with relief. Steve was a good leader and did not want to lose another of his warriors.
"But it's such a pity that she has her eyes for that idiot Krad…" Voira murmured, but Steve did not hear.
"So, then we shall keep the chief's daughter alive until Thade comes to claim her," said Voira, turning her thoughts away from her female servant.
"That is my plan. She is on her way now, with a different band of my men. I have ordered them to keep her out of harm's way."
"Good. I would very much like to see this daughter of the chief. And what is next, Steve?"
"Barydia, milady."
Barydia was one of the larger villages in Elysium, and it was nestled within a deep valley surrounded by hills of tall grasses and wild flowers, unlike the hidden, forest-covered lands of Thade and Gira. Therefore, without the trees or any magic for protection, Barydia, although large, was easily destroyed.
Steve had come with some three hundred of his soldiers, and at the end of midday, the slaughter began. First, it had begun with the explosion of the chief's home, killing him immediately, and it was this sound that had alarmed Hwoarang and Xiao earlier.
As Steve's killings continued, blood flowed in rivulets down the roads, scarlet splashes upon white stones, and Barydia was overwhelmed with the dead and the dying. Cries of terror and pleads for mercy pierced the sky; flames licked and gnawed at homes, devouring all in its path, and children fled with tattered dolls clutched close to their breasts. Mothers wept, calling for their children and their husbands, and fathers tried in vain to retaliate. But resistance and escape did not matter, because all, children and elderly alike, fell to Steve and his army. The blonde man had become an expert at extermination and was known to take no prisoners, to leave none alive. It was the word of Voira herself, and he could do nothing but obey—obey, or die.
The sky blackened with the smoke, and as Hwoarang and Xiao came at last upon the doomed village of Barydia, they found only death and chaos.
"Come on!" Hwoarang cried, unsheathing his weapon and thrusting it into a nearby soldier. Blood burst forth, staining the Korean man's hands a deep crimson. "Look for Julia!"
"Right," Ling whimpered softly to herself. But no matter how fearful she was, Xiao was determined to prove herself. So, with staff in hand, she restrained her fear and began to fight back.
Meanwhile, Steve was off by himself harassing a family of three. They had seemed harmless enough, an old man, a younger one, and a woman, but to Steve's surprise, all three were skilled martial artists. Although elderly, the older man was swift in his attacks, almost as much as the younger man was, and Steve gritted his teeth in an effort to defeat them. However, it was the woman that had shocked him, for she fought more fiercely than the other two. Hair flying and teeth bared, body moving in lightning quick motions, she reminded Steve of a wounded tigress he had once been forced to kill. Her eyes were wild with rage, body swaying, legs lashing out in a flurry of kicks…not to mention she was the most beautiful woman Steve had ever seen.
Finally, growing weary of the elderly fighter, Steve lowered his fists and took the easy route—and thrust his broadsword into the belly of the old man.
"Grandfather!" the woman and the man both shrieked as the elderly man collapsed, blood spilling from his midsection.
The woman immediately went to her grandfather's side while the younger, burly man faced Steve. His face was a mask of fury as he attacked, and Steve suddenly found himself slammed onto the ground as the man swept his feet out from under him. The boxer recovered swiftly, but his attacker had managed to disarm him, and the blonde man watched as his sword was thrown out of reach several feet away. Steve cursed under his breath and grunted in pain as the younger man straddled him, his weight squeezing the air out of Steve's lungs.
"Eddy! Be careful!" the woman cried, cradling her dead grandfather in her arms. Tears streamed down her face, blood stained her hands and clothes, and somehow this terrible picture stirred something strange within Steve. He had seen death and sorrow many times, so why did this certain woman make him feel this way?
"Run, Christie! This bastard is mine now!" Eddy barked, but Christie shook her head.
"No, I'm not leaving you. Just kill him quickly and let's go!"
"Not quite yet. I want him to suffer, to feel the pain he has brought upon us!" Eddy cried, and he picked up a nearby shard of glass.
But just as the Brazilian man raised the glass above his head in preparation for the killing blow, Steve managed to roll out from under him. And then there was only the sound of Christie's cries of horror as Steve found his sword, and without another moment's hesitation, plunged the blade into Eddy's spine. The Brazilian man died instantly, silently, eyes wide open in a frozen mask of pain, and Steve quickly removed his sword. The stench of freshly spilled blood wafted up into the air.
This time, Christie did run.
Exhausted from his fight with the three, Steve didn't bother chasing after her and instead yelled, "Seize her! Don't let her get away!"
A moment later, the woman screamed once again as she found herself trapped. She unleashed a flurry of kicks, fought bravely for only a short while, but then collapsed in exhaustion and terror. Two men immediately took both of her arms and pinned them behind her, and just as one of them unsheathed his dagger, Steve approached.
"No! Don't hurt her! Release her," he commanded, and the soldiers dropped Christie's arms.
With her hair disheveled, clothes and arms covered in blood and eyes afire with hatred and fear, Christie Monteiro found herself to be the sole survivor of Barydia. She was alone now, had lost everything, her home, her family, her joy, now her freedom…but though she knew this, she glared defiantly up at the man who had destroyed her life. Steve may have taken it away, but she had some fight in her yet; she would not let this blonde monster get the best of her.
Steve approached her slowly, breath ragged and hands stained with Eddy's blood. Christie glared at him from behind the loose strands of hair that had fallen over her eyes, heart beating rapidly with the adrenaline and a sudden desire to lash out and kill him where he stood. But the Brazilian woman realized that she did not want to die just yet, and if she tried to resist now, they would only kill her. Besides, she was greatly outnumbered, and to give Steve a nice, quick death was too merciful. It was best to wait. She would have her revenge…but not just yet.
"What is your name?" the blonde man asked quietly.
In response, Christie spat in his face.
As Steve wiped away a wad of spit from his cheek, she snarled, "Christie Monteiro; that name means little to me now. You have taken away everything I had, so why should a mere name matter to you?"
The blonde man had no answer for that one and instead motioned for one of his soldiers to chain her hands together. Christie complied—but not without a fight. She knew now that Steve had no intention of killing her, so why not get in a few easy kicks? Dodging a fist, then a blade, Christie wedged her knee up into a man's groin, then caught another under the chin with a twisting handstand. She fought so viciously that Steve had to shackle her himself, and even that simple task was difficult.
"We move on now. But listen closely: nobody touches her. Do so, and I'll not hesitate to cut off your sword hand," Steve threatened his soldiers, then turned again to Christie.
"If you be quiet and follow along, and if you stay by my side most of the way, you will be safe from these men," he said, shoving the key to the shackles into his pants pocket.
"Let them do as they like," she sneered, "I do not need you to protect me. But yes, I do suggest that you keep me under watch, for one dark night you might just find your throat slit."
Steve rolled his eyes as he took hold of the chains.
"I may be helpless now," she continued, "but know that I will have my revenge."
In response, Steve merely yanked on the chains that held her, dragging her along. He admired her courage and her spirit, but also knew that he had been the one to dampen it. Sighing, he pushed the thought out of his mind. Why the hell was he feeling this way anyway? She was so beautiful, so fierce…but she was also just another insignificant human that he'd been ordered to get rid of.
Later on, as Christie had calmed down some and Steve's men made their way to the Gray City—Xerick—to rest from the journey, one of his soldiers asked, "Sir, why are we letting her live? She is a mere woman and should be killed like the rest."
"Silence. I have my reasons, and you will not question my actions again. Do you understand?" Steve barked, and the soldier instantly quieted.
Steve turned to look at his prisoner and found that she was staring at him.
"You should thank me. Without me, you'd be dead," he sneered, yanking on the chain.
Christie stumbled forward, but retorted, "Murderers do not deserve my thanks. Besides, I am not afraid of death like you are."
Steve suddenly stopped in his tracks and pulled on the chain so hard Christie crashed into his chest.
"You're bold…but stupid. What makes you say that?" he growled, bringing his face close to hers.
Christie smirked, "Men like you who kill innocents for a living are cowards and nothing more. Does it make you feel big and powerful when you kill children? And tell me, who is your leader? How much does he pay you for every life you take? Or does he just threaten you with death to make you do everything he wishes?"
At this, Steve lifted his hand in a sudden temptation to smack her across the face. Christie did not even flinch as he did so, but the blonde man eventually lowered his hand.
"Think about it," the Brazilian woman whispered, and moved away from him.
And Steve did, for a long, long time. With her words playing over and over in his mind, he knew that the Brazilian woman was right.
Meanwhile, in Voira's home...
"Enter."
The door opened and a slender woman robed in scarlet stepped through into the hall. Her face was stoic, her eyes cold, full lips hard and emotionless, and she bowed her head in respect as she reached her mistress. At only eighteen years of age, the talented mage and warrior, Helize Vermilion, had become a beautiful woman. She was not nearly as lovely as Voira was, but for a mage Helize was a vision. Ebony hair fell to her shoulders and among the dark locks were streaks of blood-red strands; her unusual hair was only one of the signs of the magic in her blood. With eyes like dark pools of obsidian, and slightly bronzed skin from having traveled out in the sun with Steve's men, mortals and mages alike desired her. However, Helize possessed no interest in them for her heart belonged to one man only…
Her job was to kill, and she did it well—often too well. But that was precisely why Voira had bestowed the gifts of magic upon her.
Helize had once been a mere mortal, but after Voira found her, the sorceress believed she deserved much more. Only a privileged few of Voira's servants got the chance to possess the ability to conjure magic, and Helize had been one of them. Voira, having sensed strength and uniqueness within her pupil, had decided that Helize was much too intelligent and advanced to become a mere soldier like Steve. Yes, Steve was smart, he was a good leader and a talented fighter, and he'd proved useful to the sorceress. However, his mind did not work like Helize's. Helize, though young, did not just act as a killer; she thought like one, lived the lifestyle, killed without hesitation, and thus proved to be alarmingly dangerous. And now, with the dark arts coursing through her veins, the young mage was even deadlier than before.
"Milady Voira," she murmured with another bow, and the sorceress motioned for her to rise.
"Helize, my child, how is it with you?" Voira inquired softly.
"Well, milady, very well. And yourself?"
"I am doing fine. But I did not call you here to tell you that now did I."
Helize smiled slightly. "No, milady, of course not. And what may I do for you?"
"Nothing for the moment. Just answer my questions."
"As you wish."
Voira leaned back in her seat and studied the woman before her. "I recently spoke with Steve about the raid against Thade and Gira. He told me about Thade, of your plan to take the daughter instead of the chief. Explain this to me. I am interested in your reasoning."
Helize swallowed. Though she was another of Voira's favorites, she too had to be cautious in everything she said and did.
"At first I had planned to go along with Steve's idea, and that was to abduct the chief, milady. But when I found the chief's home, I sensed something stronger within. I have never felt such powerful magic in my life, milady Voira, and the source, I believe, was coming from the daughter," Helize explained calmly.
The sorceress narrowed her eyes in thought. "Go on."
Helize licked her lips. "But what was strange was that the feeling was only very brief. I doubted myself many times, for the power coming from this girl was inconsistent. I felt it in small, sharp bursts, but then just as quickly it would die again. I wanted to know more about this peculiar feeling, so I took her instead of her father."
"You could be wrong, Helize. The source of the power may have been coming from somewhere else," Voira said softly.
"I knew that, but I was willing to risk it. She is only a human after all; her life is expendable. But even if the source of the magic I felt is indeed from elsewhere, she still remains useful to us as Thade's bait."
"True…yes, I understand. Helize…"
"Yes?"
Voira's ice blue eyes pierced into the mage's dark irises, and Helize took a small step backward. The sorceress was unpredictable, and Helize feared that she had done something to upset the witch…
"Do you think, perhaps, that this woman you captured is the Spirit Child?"
Helize concealed her relief and answered, "No, milady, absolutely not; that I am sure of. If she had been the Spirit Child, I would have killed her upon sight. Also, the amount of magic within her was much, much too weak to cause any harm, and we both know that the Spirit Child is capable of more than that. However, the small bit of magic I sensed within her is not to be ignored."
"Yes, of course…also remember that the Aneira Forests are located close to Thade too, and the trees possess very strong magic. It is possible that this woman just accidentally absorbed some of the trees' powers."
"It makes sense, milady," replied Helize, "but do not worry. I will have her figured out once she arrives."
"Take your time, Helize. She might be a harmless tree-hugging mage, but I want to know every single thing about her. Understand?"
"Of course."
"Good. You're dismissed."
The mage was just about to turn to go when Voira said something else.
"Oh and Helize, stop following Krad around. He is a waste of your time."
"I do not understand," came Helize's lie, but Voira merely laughed.
"I thought you were smarter than that, Helize. I have seen the way you look at him. A gifted mage such as yourself is worth much more than that joke of a warrior. Love will only weaken you."
Helize merely bowed and strode out.
The ruins of Barydia...
"Xiao! Hey Xiao! Where are you!"
Hwoarang's hoarse voice echoed throughout the silence. His face was smudged with dirt, and he clutched his left arm where blood trickled from a small but deep gash. Sweat plastered his hair to his face, and the smoke caused him to choke and cough occasionally. Nevertheless, he continued to search for Ling.
Barydia was now reduced to ashes and crumbling stone; what used to be a large, beautiful village was now nothing but smoking ruins. Crows and vultures circled in the sky, seeking an easy meal off of the dead villagers, and the earth beneath Hwoarang's feet was stained a deep vermilion.
And as the Korean man laid his eyes on a dead woman on the ground, eyes closed peacefully, Hwoarang was reminded of his home twenty-two years ago. Biting his lip until it bled, he forced the terrible memories away and began to run. His arm ached from the wound and he was exhausted from the recent battle, but he had to find Xiao. He wouldn't admit it to her, but Ling had grown on him a little. She was like his younger sister, and Hwoarang found himself worrying about her despite the fact that she still annoyed the crap out of him at times.
"Ling! Ling Xiaoyu!" he screamed again.
Then, up ahead, he saw a pink form kneeling on the ground. Picking up his pace, Hwoarang soon reached Xiao, and noticed that cradled in her arms was a little girl. She'd been killed with an arrow through her heart, yet she seemed only to be deep in slumber. Xiao sobbed against the lifeless child's forehead and pressed her fiercely to her chest.
"Oh, Xiao," Hwoarang managed to say, and he placed a comforting hand on her back.
The Chinese woman's sobs could not be quelled, but she managed to hiccup, "W-Why? Why is this happening? It's one thing to kill a man but…but this is a child. A child, Hwoarang, look at her!"
"I'm sorry, Ling, I'm so sorry. I didn't know either, I didn't know…"
"This is sick and wrong; I can't believe this!" she shrieked.
Her world had been shattered. For the first time Xiao saw the flaws of her peaceful life. She now understood Hwoarang's cynicism. This dead girl child was only the beginning to the darkness that waited, and Xiao knew that more evil yet lurked on the journey ahead.
Ignoring the pain in his arm, Hwoarang pulled his companion away from the dead little girl.
"Come on, Xiao. We're leaving," he coaxed, putting an arm around her shoulders, but she would not be consoled.
"We have to bury them. I can't leave them like this."
"Look, I'm sorry you had to see all of this, but Ling, we gotta keep moving. Those killers have already left and they might hold the clue to where Julia is. Come on," Hwoarang explained, but Ling pulled away.
"Julia can wait. Even Jin can wait. We're the only ones these poor people have now, and they deserve to be laid to rest properly," she protested.
The redhead glanced down at the little girl on the ground again, and he remembered Julia's words.
"…it was once a life, Hwoarang, don't you understand? Life is precious and fragile; can't you appreciate that?"
Sighing, he surrendered. "Ok. But only if you help me bandage my arm up."
Ling nodded and quickly wrapped up Hwoarang's bleeding arm.
After hours of burying the dead, the two companions continued onward, following the trail Steve's soldiers had left behind.
The peaceful world that was Elysium was no more.