New Blood
by Saber Alexander McConnell
Rated PG13

CHAPTER 24: Divide and Conquer

Demetrius had never fought a battle like this in his life. He had fought at the faire all those weeks ago, and he had sparred in practice, but this was unlike any of it. He had no time to think, reduced only to split-second reactions and instinctive dodged and attacks. The hours and days of training had paid off, keeping him alive, but he could tell they were seriously outmatched.

He caught sight of the burly man in bear armor, the one he'd gone after at the faire. But there were several more, including the three that had first confronted them, who seemed to be the ones in charge. And then, as Nohano battled the one called Kale, the rest of these warlords had swarmed them, attacking from out of nowhere, it seemed. Demetrius was thrown back by a powerful blow with a pair of nunchaku from the one called Dais, and a laser blast from behind that thankfully his armor had mostly absorbed. Still, it had hurt him, and he'd only just avoided being struck in the head by the next shot.

And then all had stopped, for only a moment, as the warlords seemed to fall back at some unspoken command. Demetrius looked around to the group, all of whom were winded and injured, and realized with sudden horror that they couldn't win. They would die there, on the streets.

And then something happened he couldn't understand. Lightning from above struck him, not harming him in any way he could perceive, but filling him with a taint so profound that he felt sick. And then there was nothing.

It was not like going to sleep. Demetrius had never been unconscious before, and could not really explain what it felt like...but he didn't really feel anything.

His next awareness was light, light that was so strange he was sure he'd never seen anything like it before. He opened his eyes fully and squinted, certain, absolutely certain that he was hallucinating. It was the earth he was seeing, the earth from an impossible, dizzying height. In fact, the earth below him looked like a map, where he could actually see the shape of the continent below him. 'Africa,' he thought giddily, trying to turn around to get a better look, but found it was impossible to do. 'There's Africa.'

'Oh my gods,' he thought frantically. 'My gods, I'm in space.'

It was insane. It was impossible, and the very thought made him feel like he'd lost his mind. How could he possibly be in space? He should be dead, or imploding, or something! He tried to move again, a little panicked when he could not do it. He could move his limbs, but he didn't go anywhere, only floated serenely in the air—and it wasn't even air! There was nothing!

'They can't possibly know where I am,' he thought frantically. How? How had he gotten to this impossible place?

Then he remembered the orange lightning, the energy that had sizzled through him, and the sudden lack of consciousness. 'Talpa,' he thought, slowly clenching his fist. He must have been responsible for this. But why? Why, if he had such power, could he not have simply killed them?

"Maybe he can't," said Demetrius aloud, unnerved that he could not hear his own voice. "Maybe our armor prevents him simply killing us with a spell." As his panic calmed, he noticed a strange sort of mask covering his face—not completely, but his eyes were covered by a clear visor, and the bottom half of his face with metal that seemed to be attached to his helmet. There was still a place where air should be able to escape, but somehow it wasn't.

'All right, stay calm,' he thought, closing his eyes to shut out the frightening, black view of the stars and the impossible girth of the earth below him. 'Stay calm. And think of something.'

But as he opened his eyes and gazed at the endless vista of blackness, he wondered what he could possibly think of to do.

It seemed an age before it happened. Demetrius drifted helplessly in the vacuum that surrounded Earth's atmosphere, gazing desperately down at the soil and stone he took so much comfort from. How he longed for the security of warm earth around him, giving him energy and strength. He'd never realized just how closely he was connected to the earth until that connection had been so suddenly broken. Floating, with no gravity to tie him to the land, it felt unreal.

The light surprised him at first. What could be making a light so brilliant out here in the blackness of space? Not a meteor, surely, for most of them were no bigger than pebbles, and would not glow in space, at any rate. They only glowed on entering the atmosphere, and Demetrius knew he was far beyond that. A comet? Surely not, they couldn't possibly travel so fast, could they?

The boy drifted around so that he was able to face the source of the light, realizing with horror that it was headed straight at him. A great ball of seething energy, like a miniature sun, surrounded by the hateful spirit-things they'd seen that day hovering in the sky and striking down the military helicopters. Demetrius had time only to scream, a sound that was lost in the emptiness, before the thing hit.

Demetrius could not have described it. There was no pain, not yet, only a surge of light too bright to stand, and so much energy that he could scarcely stand it. He closed his eyes to the light, but it penetrated his light skin, seeming to sear his eyes with its intensity. Then things went dark as awareness slipped away.

---

Pressure. That was the first thing that Suisei was aware of when consciousness began to return to him. Pressure, and a deep sort of cold that he couldn't explain. When he moved, his entire body sort of drifted, as if floating in the water.

Water?

Suisei opened his eyes, blinking in sudden alarm at the view around him; seaweed and coral, startled fish and water...water everywhere. Suisei had no fear of water like his friend Nohano had, but he did not entirely love it, either. A spirit of air and wind, Suisei was badly intimidated by being, so far as he could see, at the bottom of the ocean!

As the youth's brain woke a little more fully, he noticed that he was breathing, water or no, and that he was still in his full armor. In fact, a strange mask had closed over his face, the same mask that always closed over when he called his armor—but it usually retracted back into the helmet! And now, it seemed to be shielding Suisei from suffocation.

He suddenly realized that he was alone, and felt a moment's anxiety for Tarun. 'Oh, kid, I hope you're better off than I am at the moment.' No one within mental range, either, it seemed as he looked around.

"What the hell," he finally muttered, frowning at the oddity of being able to speak underwater and the fact that he was there at all. Calmed from his initial panic, Suisei stood, slowly, on the sea bottom. The weight of his armor anchoring him so that he was able to walk (though quite slowly), Suisei began to explore the area. As it was clear his armor would shield him, he was no longer fearful, but he wanted a way out as soon as possible. Light shone from a nearby phosphorescent coral reef, but otherwise it was quite dark, telling Suisei that he was very far down.

The immediate area had little in it but the various sea life, and the ground did not seem to be rising towards a shore. Suisei realized that he was going to have to try and swim up, to find the surface, wherever it might be. He hoped he wasn't hundreds of miles from shore, else he might not make it back.

"A little nervous, Ronin of Strata?"

The voice, so unlikely down in the alien environment, startled Suisei badly. He spun around, or, rather, tried to spin around. He twisted in the water, losing his balance and floating towards the seabed. He had plenty time to catch himself and stand up, gaping at the owner of the voice. "Sekhmet!" he exclaimed, remembering the name of the viper warlord. "How?"

Sekhmet laughed, a laugh of genuine amusement, that sent a chill up Suisei's back. "Didn't you know, Ronin? The water is my territory. I am at home here, as much as on land."

'That's not good,' Suisei thought warily, taking a slow step backwards. 'Because I'm not.' He didn't want to spend time fighting this bastard, especially since he didn't know how much power his armor used to keep him from inhaling water. But he knew that as soon as he turned around to flee, the coward would attack him from behind! Besides, he had a sudden desire to kick this creep's butt. "So you're a water-slug," said Suisei in insult, reaching behind him for his longbow. A surge of adrenaline was wiping out his fear, and he found he was even enjoying the encounter. He had always sought out excitement, and couldn't deny that even this dire situation attracted him.

Sekhmet hissed, sounding more like a snake than ever, and drew two of his katana. "Your words are bold," he hissed, facing Suisei. "But when I bring you back to my master, Talpa, when he has you and your friends suffering in his dungeons, I fear you won't be so bold."

"Bring it on, you legless lizard," said Suisei disgustedly, bringing the longbow to bear in front of him, grabbing an energy arrow from the quiver on his back. The water slowed his actions, but his arrows glowed faintly as always.

Sekhmet's unnatural eyes widened behind the snake mask, and he lunged at Suisei, startling the Ronin with his speed. Suisei let loose his arrow, driving Sekhmet and himself both back several meters, and wondered in astonishment how the bastard could move so quickly in the water!

"The water is my territory," he had said. It must be like Killian's armor, giving him power! Killian could move quickly in the water, too!

He had just enough time to draw a second arrow and let it fly, cursing mildly as Sekhmet dodged it, soaring up into the water away from the shock of the arrow. Suisei was knocked backwards once more from the force of the arrow, and realized suddenly he could use this to escape!

Ignoring the angry snake warlord for a moment, Suisei jumped up into the water and aimed his longbow downward, laughing as he was driven upwards, towards what must be the surface.

A shadow made him dodge aside, narrowing avoiding being grappled by Sekhmet, who'd dove down like a hawk sighting its prey. He tried to nock another arrow, but Sekhmet was too quick, grabbing Suisei around the waist and tackling him back down towards the bottom. Suisei snarled, grabbing onto Sekhmet's mask, trying to pry it from the snake lord's face. Sekhmet let go of Suisei with one hand to protect his mask, allowing Suisei to nearly free himself. "Oh, no you don't," Sekhmet hissed, grabbing Suisei around the throat, his hand snaking around his armor and beneath the mask.

Suisei gagged and stopped trying to free himself, instead grabbing Sekhmet's gauntlet with both hands and prying the fingers from his throat. He vaguely realized he'd let his longbow drop, but couldn't do anything to retrieve it. A red haze began to appear around the pair, that Suisei was not sure was real or a hallucination. But the pain that hit him a moment later was no hallucination. He cried out in hurt surprise and wrenched himself away from Sekhmet's grasp, a burning, deep pain seeping in like the water itself.

Sekhmet laughed unpleasantly as Suisei awkwardly hit the sand, a groan escaping his lips, unable at first to understand where the haze and the pain were coming from. Was it his armor? Was it malfunctioning somehow? Wondering if Sekhmet somehow had a way of attacking him without using his weapon, Suisei grabbed his bow from where it had hit and grabbed another of his arrows.

"You like my poison, Ronin?" asked Sekhmet, chuckling as he landed next to Suisei. "One of my favorite ones—the pain will increase by the minute, and it's all the more potent in the water! I love the agonizing ones. They're so much more interesting."

Suisei gaped at Sekhmet in disbelief, realizing the haze was coming off the warlord's very armor! "Worse in the water?" he gasped, stumbling as a stab of pain sank into the muscles of his legs.

"That's right." The miserable bastard sounded downright gleeful! "Incapacitating, eventually, though it does take a little time. Oh...just how long does the power in your armor last? Mine will last all week if I want it to, powered by water as it is. You're Strata? That's too bad."

Panic was beginning to resurface in Suisei's mind as the pain seemed to intensify. 'It's like nerve gas,' he thought, appalled. Not that he had ever experienced nerve gas, but he'd read of it, and it seemed like it would be similar. He looked hazily at Sekhmet, who seemed to be content to stand there and let his poison do his job for him, then down to the arrow he'd nocked. 'I hope this works,' he thought feverishly, getting out of the water now his top priority. "Arrow Shock Wave!" he cried, letting the arrow fly on the last word.

Sekhmet laughed and dodged easily aside, but Suisei hadn't even been aiming at him. A great surge of energy drove Suisei backwards, up through the water as if he had strapped a jet pack to his back. He caught sight of Sekhmet's startled expression before nocking another arrow and letting it fly as well. The warlord was chasing him now, obviously realizing what Suisei was trying to do, dodging the arrow the Ronin was now aiming at him. 'If he catches me again, I'm done,' he thought frantically. 'I can't let that happen! His only hope was that they were fairly close to land, for Sekhmet to have been able to get to him so quickly. If not, he didn't want to think of what would happen.

---

Tarun did not like the dark, and when he woke to nothing but blackness and silence, he was not entirely thrilled. He remembered the lightning hitting, and the frightening but interesting sensation of being dematerialized by it. That hadn't been so bad. It had hurt, but not for long. But this, this wasn't anything like Tarun was used to seeing.

Shaken, the boy stood up and peered around, trying frantically to spot even a bit of light, but all around him was blackness. "Suisei?" he called, his voice echoing around him. "Yuck," he added in a quieter voice, shivering at the echo. "That wasn't right."

He began feeling around him, crouching and running his hands across the ground he stood on. He thought it might be dirt, but with his gauntlets on, he wasn't sure, and he wasn't about to ditch the armor. He kept on feeling the ground until his hand collided with something solid. "Hey!" he exclaimed, grinning, as he stood up. He'd been beginning to wonder if there was anything here but him! He ran his hands along the object, frowning at what seemed to be a big box of stone, scraping against his gauntlets. He tapped it, and it made an echo-y clanking sound. He blinked, remembering that several of his sling projectiles exploded in light energy, and grabbed eagerly for the weapon. Why hadn't he thought of that before?

He realized a moment later that he didn't really need the sling; all he needed was to throw the little ball to the floor and see what its lights revealed. The child stood back and hurled the ammunition, squinting his eyes as the entire room flared, throwing everything into sharp relief for just a second.

But a second was all Tarun needed. He screamed, stumbling back from a stone tomb, shrinking back from the ancient bodies stacked into alcoves in the wall. The light flared out, leaving Tarun standing in the middle of the crypt, shaking. The dark had been bad enough, but the death—everywhere! And he'd not seen an exit.

Tarun felt tears prickle at his eyes and wiped them angrily away, taking a big breath and holding it. 'I can do this,' he said to himself. 'I gotta, I'm a Ronin Warrior! Ronin Warriors aren't scared of skeletons. They're not scared of the dark, either!' Though in truth he had only been startled by the skeletons, and his fear of the dark was mild, but still.

It helped, a little bit. Trying very hard to be brave, Tarun edged to the nearest wall and began feeling around on it, trying very hard to ignore the old, old smell of decay and death that hung about the tomb. He traveled the whole circumference of the room, searching for an opening that could be a door, but all that he found were the recesses the bodies lay in. Was there an exit at all? There had to be, else how could he have gotten in? He sat on the floor when he was finished, fighting tears, leaning against the stone tomb in the center of the room.

Maybe the door was through the tomb! Cheered immediately at the idea, Tarun stood again and put his hands on the tomb, pushing against the top with all of his strength. The boy strained until he was out of breath, but the top did not budge, and Tarun wondered if it even had a lid, or if he just wasn't strong enough.

"I wish I had muscles like Demetrius," he uttered resentfully, glaring at stubborn tomb in front of him. "I want out of this stupid thing!"

A sudden instinct made Tarun duck down, taking cover behind the stone, and screeched in shock at a sudden clang against the stone where he'd just been standing. Someone cursed in a different language. "Hey" Tarun cried, scrambling to his feet, grabbing his sling and an ammunition ball in his hands. "Who's there?"

The voice was harsh and mocking, even as it spoke as casually as if they were meeting on the street. "Well, as my initial attack doesn't seem to have worked, I might as well tell you. I am Dais. You may remember me from our last little meeting."

That one! The spidery one who'd worn pink armor during the attack back in San Francisco! "I remember you!" said Tarun furiously, taking a step back. "And you'd better leave me alone!" He drew out another sling ammo from his pouch and flung it towards the voice, jumping back as the energy flared, blasting apart a section of the wall and the half-rotted bones that rested there. But it hadn't hit Dais; he had dodged it, and Tarun dashed away from Dais's furious lunge.

The tomb was dark again, and fear crept back into Tarun's mind as it was silent once more. He stood there, his eyes wide, straining to catch the smallest noise from the warlord. He took another ammo from his pouch and flung it on the floor, catching sight of Dais's silhouette, upside down, descending from the high ceiling like a gigantic, malignant spider. Tarun ran again, nearly colliding with the opposite wall, reaching frantically for another ammo ball, loading his sling and flinging the ball as hard as he could in front of him. A cry of pain from Dais told him he'd hit his mark, but the child's elation only lasted a second. Unless he could knock the warlord out, he'd eventually get caught, or dead! There was no way out, and his speed was nearly useless here!

"You'll pay for that, child!" snarled Dais suddenly. "Web of Deception!"

Tarun didn't know the attack, but recognized that is was an attack, and a spike of fear went though the boy. He stumbled in the dark, not knowing where Dais was, not knowing how close Dais's attack was, not knowing where he could take cover.

He screeched, startled, as something hit the wall right above him, and he sprinted from it, feeling soft, sinister tickles of something brush his cheek. He swiped furiously at whatever it was, putting on a burst of speed, and breaking free of the fine strands. He stumbled in the dark, sprawling on the dirt floor, and felt something encircle his ankle; not the strands of web, but Dais's hand!

"Let go!" Tarun shrieked, spinning around on the ground as Dais's other hand grabbed his wrist. With his free hand, Tarun punched the man as hard as he could, striking only his armor. Dais laughed, and lunged forward, using his weight to pin the boy down.

"I will enjoy punishing you, brat," said Dais viciously, grabbing Tarun's flailing arm and pinning it down, too. "Hold still you worthless whelp!"

But Tarun fought with all his strength, squirming out from under Dais's weight, kicking furiously at the dark warlord. He heard a yelp from Dais as Tarun's fingers sought his eyes. The warlord growled like an animal and grabbed Tarun's arm, wrenching it behind the boy and pinning him face first.

Tarun yowled, both in pain and in protest, still fighting, but nearly helpless in his position. Dais did not laugh now, only held Tarun in place for several moments, catching his breath. "I never knew a child could fight like you," he uttered, and though the rage in the warlord's voice scared Tarun, he was also flattered.

"Let me go."

"Not a chance, whelp," said Dais, his tone one of surprised amusement. "You lie helpless beneath my knee, and still you demand to be freed? You have nerve boy, if not intelligence." He laughed again, a sound Tarun was growing to hate.

But he didn't have the chance to reply to the insult; a flash of orange, like the one that had brought him here, engulfed them both. This time Tarun felt the gut-wrenching sensation of being mystically discorporated and transported who knew how far. By the time they landed again on solid ground, Tarun was dizzy and disoriented. He caught a brief glimpse of an enormous door in front of them, and fought briefly to free himself, but the same thin strands of web shot out from Dais's sheathed weapon and wrapped around Tarun, binding him tight. He yowled in protest as Dais carried him through the gate and into a world that Tarun had never seen before.

He didn't get the chance to take in the sights. There was another dizzying jolt of teleportation, this time somewhere inside. The webs around him dissipated, and when Dais flung him to the floor, the boy sprawled ingloriously on the polished wood.

Shaking his head, Tarun put his hands on the floor to push himself up, but was distracted for a moment by a shiny pair of metal boots which stopped centimeters from his nose. He looked up, his eyes widening in fear, his jaw dropping. The man who stood before him was tall, taller than Suisei even, clad in gray armor from head to foot. Like the warlords, he wore a mask, a hideous, blood-red face of metal with fangs and dark eye sockets.

But that wasn't the worst of it. Vileness flowed off the man like steam, an evil so deep that even Tarun, with his imagination, could scarcely imagine it. The boy let a cry of startled revulsion and scrambled to his feet, backing up until someone grabbed his arms from behind. He looked, quickly, having forgotten Dais entirely for just a minute, and noticed distractedly that Dais's helmet was off. He had long, white hair and a patch across one eye. Tarun got a brief glimpse of a room with wooden floors and walls, and creepy blue candles. As he turned back to gape at the specter in the fanged mask, he saw that the back wall was covered in what looked like some kind of fancy television screen.

"So." The voice from the masked one was low and raspy, rumbling through the room and in Tarun's gut. It was like a big truck rumbling by. "Our first Ronin guest in nearly one hundred years. You should be honored, boy."

Staring at him in horror, realizing this was the demon Talpa that the others had spoken of, Tarun took a small step back, grabbing Dais's hand and trying to pry it off of him. Dais hissed and shook the boy violently, grabbing his wrist. "You think I'll permit you to run now, in the presence of my master?"

"What's your name, boy?" asked Talpa.

Tarun turned furiously, glaring at the demon as fiercely as he could manage while half-dangling by the wrist from Dais's clenched fist. "Tarun Narayan," he said proudly, trying to ignore the tremor in his voice.

"I see." Talpa gazed at him a moment—at least he thought he gazed at him—then turned his blank mask to Dais. "Release the child's arm."

Dais blinked, and Tarun frowned in puzzlement. Were they going to let him go?

"But my lord, his speed--"

"Release him."

Clearly thinking it a folly, Dais flung Tarun's arm away with a look of disgust, and the boy wasted no time. He shot like a bullet across the chamber, away from Talpa's horrid mask, towards the door he saw at the end of the room. But he never got there.

Something hit him from behind, something that knocked him asprawl on the floor once more, searing him more horribly than Kale's lightning attack had done. Tarun couldn't even scream. When the burning stopped, he tried once to get to his feet, and was hit with it again, and this time he did scream. When the attack stopped, he stayed where he was, curled in a ball with his arms over his head. He gave a muffled cry from between clenched teeth when Dais grabbed his arm and dragged him to his feet, marching him back to where Talpa stood and forcing him onto his knees.

Shaking, Tarun shoved up the visor of his helmet, looking at Talpa with renewed horror. He'd never met anything that was faster than him when he was armored up, nor anything that could inflict that kind of pain and soul-deep taint.

"Remember this, child," said Talpa, his voice quiet but no less terrifying. "You stand within my palace, within a realm of sheer evil, which I control. Your powers are nothing to me here." Tarun had no way to know if this was a true statement or not, but after that he certainly was willing to believe it. Satisfied, Talpa turned to Dais, bowing his head for a moment. "Well done, Dais. Return to assist the others if it is necessary."

Tarun glanced back to catch Dais's pleased smile, his respectful bow, and his gracious, "Thank you, my lord." And then he was gone. Tarun felt a weird sort of fear at being left alone with Talpa. Dais wasn't exactly his best friend, but far more familiar! And Talpa was horrifyingly powerful.

Somehow, Tarun managed to speak, getting shakily to his feet but not trying to escape the room again. "Wh-what are you?"

Talpa chuckled, turning and slowly pacing the room. Tarun started at the sudden movement, and only barely kept from running. "A demon, child."

A little surprised to have gotten an answer, though somewhat irritated to get one he already knew, Tarun asked another question. "Why'd you attack us?"

Talpa turned to face him, and although no emotion showed on the mask, Tarun got the sickening feeling he was being leered at. "You stand in my way, little Ronin. All of you. Surely you know the legends. I have existed for a thousand years. I will dominate this earth and its lands—it is my right!"

Being called a little Ronin did not insult Tarun; that's what he was, after all. But the part about taking over the world...Tarun began to shiver. "Are you going to kill me?" he made himself ask, his voice somewhat higher than normal, and he too afraid of the answer to care much.

Talpa began to laugh then, a sound that made Tarun want to whimper and run as fast as he could. "Not at all, little Ronin of Daybreak. Yes, I know your armor's affiliation. In fact your armor is what I am most interested in. The original Ronin armor belonged once to me, and I will take them back, but yours has been newly made. I am very interested in its powers. Surrender it to me and save yourself a great deal of suffering, child!"

A snippet of memory came to Tarun then, him sitting still for once, listening to one of Amaya's stories about the legend of the armors. Of how the armors had begun as a single set of them, worn by the very demon before Tarun now, and of how an old mystic had broken it into nine sets. "Arago wants the armors," said Amaya. "With all nine of them, the five we have and the warlords' four, he will make our world and his into one. He will control everything."

Tarun looked up at Talpa, horrified. Could his own armor help Talpa do that? Could it give him other abilities? He slowly shook his head

"Very well," Talpa sneered, and turned his back on Tarun. The sickly orange flash engulfed him once more, flinging him through space, twisting his gut into a knot. He landed with a splash, spluttering in shock as he floundered for a few moments until he realized the water he'd landed in was not deep. He could sit in it without being in danger of drowning. Shaken, he stood up, looking around.

The chamber was vast, like an underground cave, with stone pillars surrounding the massive pool he found himself in. The water was a brackish, glowing yellow, smelling of chemicals and other less identifiable things. But what caught all of his attention were the strange bubbles floating around the ceiling chamber, bubbles big enough to hold a grown man. Within them floated, as if sitting with their legs crossed, the horrible spirit things the Ronin has seen in the skies. There were at least ten of them, all hovering in a circle around the boy, and as he watched in stunned fascination, they began to close in.