"There's a killer on the road."
(We have a Discord server now! Invite code in the end notes :D)
It wasn't his problem.
He never cared too much about what happened outside. The only things he ever had to worry about were all in one place; between the wall on his left, and the wall on his right. When something left through that door, it left his mind, and he didn't think about it again until they came back through that door.
Not that he was unsympathetic; he had a heart, too. It just… wasn't healthy for him, to think too much about what was outside when it didn't affect his life at all. Thinking got him anxious, he couldn't focus, couldn't work effectively and he just couldn't sit still. He was always tired of it; tired in the way that sleep couldn't fix.
Even if he didn't care, everyone else always did. They cared too much, so they came here to stop caring. He just had that kind of effect on people. Not that the drinks didn't help, of course.
Until they slowly lost their minds to the warm buzzing, like a fuzzy bee drifting carelessly in their gut, he just had to put up with all the baggage they dragged in.
That's good to hear.
Sorry you missed your tram.
Mhmm.
Care for a drink?
Good evening.
Work stressing you out?
My heart goes out to the victims of bleugh.
He just wanted everyone to be quiet. He just wanted to not feel so fake. He just wanted to close the yawning void in his chest. He just wanted to do what he wanted. He just wanted to want things again. He just wanted to feel alive.
But he was too tired. It wasn't his problem.
...Was his immediate thought, when he heard muffled screaming outside.
At first, he'd only given the door a brief sideways glance, thinking he was just starting to hear things. Then he heard the fear pick up, crescendo, panicked screams, pounding of feet as crowds ran for their lives. The walls were his security, the door keeping him isolated from the muted terror rushing past him.
He tensed up. He couldn't move. He couldn't - didn't let himself breathe. The pressure built inside of him. It wasn't his problem. It wasn't his problem. It wasn't his-
The door slammed open, and the glass shattered in his iron grip.
Whatever words the pedestrian was about to say died in their throat, as they watched the blood trickle down his arm. "O-Oh… A-Are you alright there, Sir?"
I'll be fine.
"W-Well…" They gulped, "I just thought you would like to know-"
They didn't need to say a single thing. The screams outside, no longer muffled as he cowered from beyond his door, were loud and clear.
The killer is here.
The creature, the thing.
The murderer is revealed.
Someone grabbed onto the pedestrian, begging them to come with them to hide somewhere, anywhere where they won't be found. They tried to hold the door open, for even a second longer, but they were pulled away by their family and loved ones, to somewhere where they could be safe, be together.
The doors swung shut, leaving him alone in the dark again.
For the first time in a long, uncomfortable while, the gears in his head began to spin, and he felt the whole world spinning too,
dizzying.
Valleri cursed viciously under her breath.
She was pushing through the panicked masses, instinctually flowing around them like oil. Her mind was gripped by panic; she was running on autopilot. Her sternum hurt, her body numb.
Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit-
She just had to be generous for once in her damn life, and where did it get her? Being chased by a damned Narc! Why did she kick her? Stupid, stupid!
In her frantic escape, she had swung her cloak over her shoulder, and pulled the hood up. She didn't have her cloth mask, but she just needed to get away get away run run run move run-
Eventually, she fell into an empty alleyway.
Quiet.
Desolate.
Nothing but the pitter-patter of rainfall.
Valleri sagged against one of the wet walls, breathing heavily. One of her hands, shaking involuntarily, went to her side, massaging a searing stitch there.
She couldn't breathe. She could barely think.
Valleri let out another string of curses. They saw her face. They saw her face!
She could maybe, just maybe lay low until this all blew over, but the look Greenie had given her was a familiar one, one transcendent of species. No doubt her face was burned into Greenie's memory, and after that kick, she wouldn't give up her pursuit.
She needed to stay calm. Get away, remain inconspicuous, stick to the shadows. Get to her hideout, grab her belongings, then get the fuck out of dodge.
Hell, skip the hideout. She didn't have anything important there. She could find more somewhere else, away from the city. She had to get out. She had to run. Find a train or stag and get away. She had to. She had-
FFSSSHHHhhhhhhh-drip-drip-drip
Valleri had only just registered the absence of the rain's pattering on her cloak, when something exploded behind her.
CLANG!
In an eruptive geyser, a manhole cover at the mouth of the alleyway behind her launched skyward, eliciting a started yelp out of her. She threw a hand over her mouth, forcing herself not to scream as it came crashing down into the cobblestone ground with a heartstopping clang. A torrent of water flowed around it, flooding the seams between the stones and rushing in every direction like a spiderweb.
Valleri didn't move.
Valleri didn't breathe.
Valleri didn't even let her eyes flinch away from the manhole cover.
…
…
Clang!
Another manhole cover burst open from the explosive water pressure below it. But it was on the other side of the street, further away from her. They were losing her.
Valleri let herself heave in a much-needed breath of air, and she scrambled to her feet and bolted the other way, the soaked edges of her cloak sticking to her ankles as she fled.
She just needed to act natural, is all.
The crowd didn't worry her at all. Nope! Not one bit. She had very good experiences with crowds, especially in the last hour. All she had to do was find a group of people and insert herself; they were all headed to the same place anyway.
Complaints rippled through the crowd huddled around the tram station as a guard was forced to close the doors and send the tram off, making everyone else wait. They were operating at beyond maximum capacity. Her fault, no doubt. Everyone in the city wanted to get away from her, even herself.
Valleri bit her lip, tapping her foot impatiently. Just act natural. Just act natural.
Nervousness sat in her stomach, clawing at her internals. She was very, very, tempted to forget the tram and take her chances elsewhere, but this wasn't Earth. Outside of the few main exits, she had no reason to believe any pathway through these giant underground caverns would be at all safe, or even that they'd lead anywhere. Not to mention anything that could be creeping within.
She didn't have the skill, nor the bullets to even consider it.
She briefly toyed with the idea of enlisting the help of that friendly stag, but she shook her head. She barely had enough money for a crowded tram, much less a ride on the Stagway. She had been lucky that he had taken pity on her the first time, and she was sure that generosity wouldn't be offered again.
Damn it. She just had to wait, then.
Valleri glanced behind her. It revealed nothing, except that she was still stranded in this sea of bugs. The rain did nothing to help anyone's mood. They were effectively stuck in it, and unless they were willing to forfeit their place in the tram mob, they would have to stay in it.
It was strange, few people in the City actually liked the rain. Mostly, the only people who liked it were new arrivals who couldn't even dream of such a thing. A city with eternal rainfall that's underground?
Contrary, the drizzle gave Valleri a sense of security, for no reason other than it was normal. She was sick of the strange, of the inexplicable, of that slight misalignment between expectation and reality that snowballed into something that got her accused of murder in a parallel universe-
"'Scuse me?"
Oh no, she was not falling for this shit again.
...
"E-Excuse me?"
...
pitter. patter.
...
"E-Excuse me, ma'am?"
"What."
Through her cloth mask and glasses, she could see another figure beside her, a head or two shorter than she was, her navy blue cloak soaking wet from the rain. She wore a simple mask, two eyes dask downwards in a sad expression. She politely tugged at Valleri's sleeve, like a lost child looking for her parents. There seemed to be a lot of those types in this city.
"D-Do you know where I can find the nearest Stag Station, ma'am? I-I just moved here, and my m-mom's waiting for me there but I dunno where it is a-and-"
"Shuddup for a sec."
The child froze. Valleri looked around at the massive crowd, overheard the guard shouting something about delays, and gave a frustrated huff.
"Alright, fine, follow me. It'll be around here… somewhere."
Valleri let the child hold onto her sleeve - she didn't want to touch anyone right now - and led her through the crowded square like a sad puppy on a leash. Valleri tensed her shoulders, struggled to keep her breathing under control, and wandered in random circles because God dammit , she didn't know where she was going, either.
She made an honest effort to find the Stag Station, she really did. But this stupid city just kept going in circles and everything looked the same and it was all the same sad blue-ish color on everything and the stupid signs made no sense because she couldn't even read them and this stupid rain kept getting under her stupid mask and people were everywhere and she hated it and this dumb kid clung to her like a leech and the rain was getting her brand-new cloak soaked and she was still being hunted and she had no idea where she was going to go next and she was lost and she was not stressed out no sirree and this stupid rain was going to drive her mad from the endless pitter patter and she wanted to go home and somewhere dry and warm and be left the fuck alone for a good few years and she hated it all so much-
"Ma'am? Are you lost, too?"
Valleri would've spit into the ground if she could. "No."
"But ma'am," she kept going, and Valleri could've sworn she heard a hint of smugness in the ungrateful brat's voice, "I thought everyone in the City knew where to find the Stag Stations?"
Valleri said nothing.
"Only a newcomer like me would get this lost, right, ma'am?"
She suddenly noticed how the square had emptied out, with few civilians still around. The rain was slowing down, from a heavy downpour to nothing but a small drizzle. Everything was too quiet here.
Valleri nodded. "Mhmm. I was wonderin' how you knew to call me "ma'am" under this big cloak."
And Valleri punched the child.
You at least had to give her credit for trying.
The "child" actually caught her fist as she was throwing it. The swift movement made her cloak slip, and Valleri caught a glimpse of a certain Knight that was far too smug for her own good.
Lady Isma, having used her short stature to disguise as a child, threw Valleri's fist away, knocking the human off-balance just long enough to put some distance between them. Isma clutched at the front of her cloak and threw it off in a single, graceful movement, with the precision of a dancer and the dignity of a knight.
Valleri didn't see any point in keeping hers on and tugged the stupid, soggy thing over her head. She didn't care if people were starting to look. She didn't care.
An arm behind her back and her legs set in a proud stance, Isma raised one arm skyward and let the rainfall shimmer over her. The raindrops around her seemed to freeze in place for a moment, before they all fell together, like the gravitational pull of a planet, and warped under Isma's fingers until she was holding a thin rapier made entirely of rainwater.
She gave it a few elegant swishes in the air. With surgical precision, Isma cut tiny raindrops in half as they fell, only for those drops to fall into the blade, and Valleri had no doubt that the water-sword was just as sharp and fatal as a real one.
A crowd had started to gather around them. Some watching in awe, some in terror, some in excitement. ...Was she really doing this shit? Was she really going to fight a witch-knight-plant-person who could manipulate water in a way she'd only ever seen in comic books?
Fight? Or flight?
With well-practiced movements, Isma eased into a fighting stance, eyes closed as she focused on her body, mind and soul; the balance between the rain and herself, the feeling of the flow, and she took a deep, careful breath, before letting herself exhale. The zen of the air and the water. The ebb and the flow of her lungs, and the world around her.
"I know not your identity, but it does not matter to me," Isma breathed calmly, slowly opening her eyes to face her opponent. "If you will not surrender, then I suggest you steel yourself for- H-HEY!"
Flight it was.
Valleri tore over the ground, knowing she had mere seconds left of her head start. Sure enough, with a flick of her rapier, Isma shot several raindrops towards Valleri like a volley of bullets.
Just as she rounded a corner, Valleri flung her cloak behind her, obscuring her view, and Isma's rain bullets shot right through it. The shredded blue fabric fell to the ground in a wet lump, and Valleri was nowhere to be seen.
Isma cursed, already moving to pursue. She'd been careless. Why was she letting herself get sidetracked? Letting herself get… caught up in the moment? She was a Great Knight, and if her title was to be worth anything, she had to be better than this.
She wasn't frustrated with herself, simply because she didn't have time to be. No more theratics. No more stiff honor. No more trying so hard to be tricky, with something that didn't even need to try. It could have been her imagination, but Isma thought the world grew more in-focus, her vision shaper, herself more aware.
No more mistakes. She had to end this, immediately.
And what did the mask mean to him, anyway?
He held it up to his face, feeling his lungs shake. The gaping, cycloptic eye stared back at him, edges faintly illuminated by candlelight. He shuddered; It must've been getting colder in here, possibly from the rain. He made a mental note to ask his servants to work on regulating the Spire's temperature and humidity better.
The architecture of the City was extremely efficient at doing most of the job - if he could allow himself to say so, seeing as how he had taken great part in designing it - but as with everything, some level of outside maintenance was always required. Again, for the most part, it was fine as it was, with many of the City's citizens hardly even noticing any changes or fluctuations.
Oh, the strange certainty of their chitin shells. It must be so easy, so low-maintenance. He envied it. He envied it when he felt every little change in the cold, he envied it when he struggled to muster up the will to set foot outside his Spire for fear of getting his wings wet-
"Master?"
He envied it when he couldn't even let his closest and most trusted confidants get a glimpse of his body under the cloak, he envied it when he had to spend so many wasteful hours trying to clean himself, he envied it when he-
"Master."
He spun around with a start, slamming the mask on his face with enough force to risk injury, holding his cloak around him in a deathgrip. Nobody could be allowed to see him. Nobody at all. He couldn't allow anyone to see him. He wouldn't allow anyone to see him. Nobody at all. He didn't know what he'd do if anyone even caught a glance of his silhouette, so he would ensure nobody ever did. Nobody at all. Nobody at all. Nobody at-
"Master, what are you doing?"
From behind his one-eyed mask, he blinked, taking a deep, shaky breath, and letting his painful grip on his cloak loosen slightly. Just slightly.
"Ah, M-Markay-" He felt like some undead monster brooding in a dark lair. "I was merely… d-deciding on a robe for the next meeting." It was embarrassing, getting caught like this doing… What even had he been doing? Ah, right, brooding. He needed to find a new hobby, since painting clearly wasn't enough to stop him from getting lost in his thoughts.
His assistant just shook his head. "Master, there's been a report from the City Guard. They believe they've found the culprit from the… incident, at the pub."
He blinked under his mask. "H-Have they?" His surprise wasn't feigned; he had thought that case would be an unsolvable mystery. Testimonies were conflicting, descriptions were unbelievable, evidence was inconclusive; he could pour over the case files for hours, only to be left understanding it even less than he initially had. If they believed they had caught the culprit, a part of him hoped the Guard was mistaken; he wasn't keen to try and open those damn files again.
His assistant, Markay, nodded. "Shall we forward this information to the White Palace?"
He thought for a moment, before shaking his head. "Not yet, perhaps. Best not to drag the Crown into this if it turns out to be a false alarm. Run an investigation on the suspect first, ensure this isn't a misunderstanding."
Markay averted his gaze from his master's cycloptic gaze, fidgeting. "That… may not be possible at the moment, Master."
Lurien tilted his head in confusion, silently asking for Markay to elaborate.
"The Guard… still hasn't secured the suspect, Master."
"...Oh."
"They're in pursuit as we speak. Many citizens are already evacuating or sheltering for the time being."
"Oh."
Markay took a deep, very professional breath. "What are your orders, Master?"
Lurien thought for a moment. Considering the nature - and victims - of this case, this culprit was a threat not only to public safety, but to diplomatic relations with neighboring states. Not to mention, with Kingsday fast approaching, it wouldn't do good to have such an important holiday muddled by threats of terrorism. The continuing peace of Hallownest as a whole rested on his shoulders. This was a threat that needed to be contained and dealt with, swiftly and without mercy.
"The city is to be placed in a state of emergency. Double street patrols and lock down all exits. Order citizens to shelter within their own homes. Any high ranking officers not already in pursuit of the culprit are ordered to do so."
Markay seemed startled by the admittedly staggering forces his Master was ordering him to deploy, but he held his professional stance. "Your will shall be done, Master."
Before he could turn to leave, Lurien asked, "Who is already pursuing the suspect at the moment?"
Markay closed his eyes, trying to remember the details. "The report stated that… Great Knight Isma, was pursuing the culprit personally."
"...Oh. Well, forget it, then."
Markay blinked. "I-I'm sorry?
"Forget it, I said. Isma alone shall be more than enough for this. Quite frankly, it may be a waste of resources, even."
Markay stared at him incredulously for a long moment. Lurien couldn't blame him; it was far too easy for many to underestimate the expertise of the Great Knights. But they had been selected for their positions for a reason( selected, not inherited, he couldn't help but remember. What a time that had been for them all.), and they were all more than ready to show their titles were not merely for show. (Isma especially, above all. He wouldn't dare breathe so much a word of this, but Wyrm, what a hothead.)
"So, just to be clear-" Markay let his formalities fall for a brief moment to try and comprehend his Master's understandably insane-sounding proclamation, "...Your orders for the standing guard, and the City as a whole, are to… do nothing?"
"Precisely. Carry on exactly as you are."
A choked silence. "H-Have you that much faith in Lady Isma, Master?"
"In her, and in all of the King's Great Knights."
His servant, ever so loyal, looked like he wanted to protest, but sighed. "A-As you command, my Master. Shall I at least order a small group of guards to properly apprehend the culprit when… everything calms down?"
"Of course. Just a handful will do."
Markay nodded, bowing respectfully before turning away to issue his Master's will elsewhere. Lurien shuddered again, his paws running over his mask from the sleeve of his robe. He still needed to ensure every last environmental imperfection in his Spire was remedied permanently. This tower - and by extension, himself - would need to last a very, very long time, after all.
What did the mask mean to him, anyway?
Not much, but he prayed that as a symbol, it would outlive him, immortalize him, forever stand as a symbol of protection, of safe dreams, of sacrifice, of devotion, of everlasting peace for the Hallownest he loved so dearly.
Herrah and Monomon would call it a symbol of death.
"Oh, and if I may?"
Lurien barely turned his head, more to alert Markay of his attention than of any attempt to make eye contact. From halfway behind a half-closed door frame, Markay gave a small smile.
"I feel the crimson robe suits you best. You know how His Majesty adores those."
He closed the door respectfully behind him, and now the room was too damn warm.
Valleri stumbled forward, a sheer mess of limbs carrying her. Legs, arms, all keeping her moving as fast as she could. Ducking through alleyways, trying a bit too hard to be unpredictable and erratic.
Right. Left. Left.
The more lost she was, the more lost she was. The better. (It didn't matter if it was bullshit; she wasn't even going to let herself think it was bullshit, because the bullshit was all she had left. Even her stupid cloak was gone.)
And what of that six-eyed Knight that was hunting her down? She acted more like a mercenary than any royal warrior or whatever. If she was willing to stoop to pretending to be a child, what did that say for Valleri? Forget about jail, Greenie might actually kill her.
She ran by what looked like a garbage can, and internally debated whether to knock it over to hinder pursuers, deciding against it in a split second.
She still couldn't wrap her mind around that. What Narc actually would disguise herself as a child? ...Wait, "Narc" was for drug cops, wasn't it? Did… did she know any slang terms for knights?
Valleri shook her head, her hair getting soaked and stringy from the eternal rainfall. She needed shelter, but that could wait until after she'd escaped from-
KA-THUNK!
Valleri was flung forward, throwing her arms in front of her face, her thick leather jacket protecting her from breaking teeth on the cobble backroads. Fuck-!
Looking over her shoulder, blowing stray, wet hair out of her eyes, she spotted a grey, shivering mass of limbs tangled between her ankles.
The small bug-boy reared his head up, careful not to let his horns scrape on anything, he locked eyes with Valleri, who blanched in impending doom as Lenny's eyes watered in recognition.
"V-Vuh-Vuh….V- VALLERIIII-!" Lenny cried as he leapt towards her, bawling his eyes out as he tried to pound his weak fists against her shoulders.
Valleri sputtered. "Ssuhuwhsuwshutthefuckupkid-!"
"Wuh-Whyyyyyyyyy-!" Lenny sobbed. "I-I-I thought t-that you needed help, ah-and you, you- you l-lied! T-t-that's so mean!"
"Bud, if you don't get the hell off of me I swear to God-"
"I'm gonna turn you in!" he practically screamed into her chest. "A-And they'll throw you in jail for lying and you'll be there forever and ever!"
Valleri managed to overcome his (maybe justified) fit and prop herself up on her elbows. She opened her mouth to tell Lenny to get out of her sight, when something else caught her attention. Further back into the alleyway, hovering a few feet above the ground, was what looked like a large bubble of water. Floating like a ghost, absorbing any rain that fell into it, it rushed forward, accelerating towards Valleri.
Except with Lenny here, he'd get hit by it first.
"Fucking- MOVE!" , Valleri shouted, roughly shoving Lenny out of her lap, sending him tumbling into the wet stone. (It wasn't raining anymore, it had stopped a while ago, how the hell hadn't she noticed-)
Valleri only had time to take a single deep breath before the sphere of water crashed straight into her head. Luckily for her, it didn't rip her skull right off of her shoulders like a cannonball, but rather, stuck to her head and floated with her, trapping her within from the neck up.
She desperately clawed at her face, only for her hands to splash against the sphere's surface to no effect. Trying to rip it off of her only made the water fall through her fingers and back into the sphere, like the water had its own gravitational pull centered on her head. She would've thought it was the coolest thing ever, if she wasn't so terrified.
She couldn't breathe.
She couldn't breathe.
She could barely see through the clear, but rippling water. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't hear. She couldn't breathe. Her frantic thrashing against a wall only burned what precious little air she had left in her lungs. She couldn't breathe. She was drowning. She was drowning. She was drowning. She was going to die here. She was going to die.
Creature.
Valleri jumped, slapping her hands to her ears, creating two splashes on either side of her tiny planet of water. Something was rippling through the water, something like a voice. She squeezed her eyes tight, desperately hoping it was a dream, that it was all a bad dream, that she'd wake up once she ran out of air.
And suddenly, something cleared up.
The water fell to only cover her mouth and nose, acting more as a mask than a helmet. She was only riding out a brief mercy in the middle of a panic attack, but at least she was only being suffocated, and not completely deprived of almost all sense.
Still reeling, still feeling her lungs burn, she wearily glared up to the top of a nearby building, walling the alley she was huddled in. The rain had come to a complete halt, hearalding the arrival of the fucking yeah of course it was that bitch again.
"Creature," Isma repeated. "You are under arrest on suspicion of murder. Surrender immediately, or I am to use lethal force."
Valleri had less than a minute to live.
It had to be over now.
Isma, standing on a high ledge overlooking the alleyway, her rapier pointing down at the creature threateningly, who writhed and withered under her suffocating mask. There was no way to escape now, she was certain of it. Even if the slippery thing somehow got out of sight now, every pathway in and out of the City was likely sealed off now. Nowhere to run, and certainly nowhere to hide.
A part of her was satisfied. Would she be able to finally put this all to rest? Finally get a good night's sleep for once? But another part of her wasn't sure. Wasn't sure it could ever be over with. Wasn't sure she could ever be over it.
Her fist tightened around her rapier, the watery surface warping under her fingers. Why hadn't the creature surrendered yet? This could only go on for so much longer.
"W-Wuh-Wait-"
Isma was snapped out of what felt like a trance, and looked down at-
"L- Lenny?" Isma asked, genuinely surprised. "What are you doing here? You should be- Erm…" In her determination to hunt down the killer, she'd completely left Lenny behind in the dust, hadn't she?
That… perhaps wasn't the best move.
"L-Lady Isma, please…" Lenny was struggling to hold back tears. Why were they crying? The thing was caught, and as long as she was here, everything should be okay, right? "P-Please… don't k-kill Miss Vuh-Valleri."
Valleri? Glancing over, she noticed the creature's eyes darken in thinly-veiled frustration. Something told Isma she'd be screaming right now if not for her mask.
But… don't kill her?
"S-She, uh, s-saved me from the… th-the water thing. She p-pushed me, out of the way, miss…"
The water thing? What water thing? And she..?
...Oh no. Wyrm dammit, she nearly attacked a child.
Isma tried to mumble out an excuse, or some kind of explanation, before she forced herself to shut up. It… didn't matter, right? No, it didn't. She was in control here. Not this "Valleri" thing, and not Lenny. The child was unharmed anyway. It came close, but it was a mistake she could move on from and live with, just so long as she finally took down this damn murderer.
Well aware that she hadn't responded to Lenny's pleas, she turned back to the creature, who by now must've had only had a sliver of air left in their lungs. "Regardless, creature, you are ordered by the Crown to-"
BANG!
Isma only saw a flash of fire in the center of her vision, before she screamed and stumbled over the edge of the building. Her hands dug into her rapier with a grip strong enough to break through the water and dig into her palms. For a few moments, she felt her stomach climb up into her throat as wind rushed past her, the ledge of the building falling away from her as she was pulled down, down, down, the rain falling around her-
She willed something beyond herself to pull together, and she landed on her back onto a large cushion of water, the surface tension letting her bounce on it harmlessly instead of splashing into the water, acting more like rubber than water. As her panicked heart slowly stopped threatening to beat out of her chest, she let the water cushion melt away and fall into the drains nearby.
She gave a sideways glance over to where the Valleri was, only to see a small puddle of water around where she sat thrashing against a wall but a moment ago. In her brief terror, her control of the water mask keeping her pinned had fallen, and the creature just barely managed to escape with her life.
Isma struggled to comprehend what even happened. She looked down into her rapier, and within its watery visage, she spied a small, metallic pellet, embedded within its hilt. The water within the blade part of the sword was… torn, somehow, and warm. This Valleri must've somehow launched this pellet right into the tip of her sword, and Isma suspected that if she weren't exerting so much control over the water that made it up, it would've kept going through her sword and straight into her body.
That kind of precision with a ranged weapon, especially one this small, was… uncanny. And from such a low vantage point, while also drowning… Isma froze.
The much more realistic scenario was that this was just… an accident. Isma had only accidentally blocked the projectile, moving at such speeds that she didn't even get to see it mid-flight. The only reason Isma wasn't injured, or even dead, was because of sheer, dumb luck. And something about that made her sick.
"A-Are you alright, Lady Isma?!"
Lenny's concerned cries brought Isma back into focus, where she forced a smile for the boy. "I-I'm fine! Merely startled, is all."
She was fine. She'd be fine, anyway. It would be fine to put up a lie. At least a lie was better than a mistake. "Lenny, it's not safe to be outside at this time. Go back home if you can, or otherwise, go to the guard barracks, tell them I sent you. Can you do that for me?"
Lenny shakily nodded, half-dried tears still stuck to his face. Isma rubbed his shoulder soothingly, giving him a small, encouraging smile. She stood as he scampered away without a word, away from murder, away from the edge of the law, away from her mistakes. Isma could only sigh as she turned back around. She couldn't rely on dumb luck anymore. She couldn't make mistakes anymore. She had to cover all bases, close in from all sides, and finish this quickly. No matter what it took.
She eyed the puddle where Valleri once was. The rain had started again, making it impossible to follow any footprints or trails of water from her mask. But she had nearly just suffocated; she couldn't have run far without needing a break to breathe. And in her haste, she would surely be sloppy in covering her tracks. She'd surely make mistakes.
She couldn't be far.
Hahahahahahaha.
This sucked.
Valleri had broken into a random building with no regard for what it looked like or what it might be used for. She'd slammed the heavy backdoor behind her and slowly fallen to her knees, heaving in for much-needed air as she sat with her back pressed against the door.
At some point, her terror had warped into some kind of manic amusement, like walking out of a haunted house, still thoroughly shaken but just starting to see the fun in her adrenaline high.
Except this wasn't fun. Being hunted like some runaway cattle wasn't fun. Being nearly drowned wasn't fun. Being lost in some bizarre, alien world with nothing to her name and treated like some revolting thing wasn't fun. She had nothing, was headed nowhere, and her pitiful little life could be extinguished at any moment.
But she was laughing anyway. She didn't know why. She was probably going batshit crazy.
Slowly, she stood up, glancing around. Where even was she? It was dank and cold in here, and judging from the lack of furnishings, it was likely either some kind of basement or storeroom. The room was lines with shelves containing books she couldn't read, some weird plants she didn't recognize and-
"Are these like… action figures, or somethin'?" She pulled one of the small, white rocks from the shelf. It was carved into a mostly ovular shape, with a sharp crown circling along the top, adorned in marble robes and a porcelain mask. Something meant to depict a… king? Whatever, they probably weren't too important anyway.
Drip…
She cautiously put down the figure, nerves suddenly alight.
Drip…
Her head turned to where the sound was coming from. A few drops were seeping through the brick of the basement. In the dull silence, their impact sounded as loud as a gunshot.
She couldn't help it. She couldn't let herself calm down and breath, succumbing to the cold, frizzy panic. She couldn't help it. A basement in a city of eternal rain was going to leak, but after everything that had happened in the last hour, having been almost drowned to death by a knight who could bend water to her will and who had caught a BULLET...
She couldn't help but feel a little fucking nervous.
She edged away from seeping bricks. It was perfectly natural rainwater. Perfectly natural. Probably. The drips soon turned into seeps, dribbling down onto the floor. Valleri began looking for a staircase or ladder or anything to an upper floor. It probably wasn't being caused by that royal bitch, but she didn't want to get wet and find out.
By the time she found a stout, stone staircase, the seeping had turned to full on gushing of water through the cracks. She might've had her doubts earlier, but this was definitely unnatural.
This was never going to end.
She heard a dribble of water behind her. Spinning around, she saw streams of water flowing down the stairs. She spotted splurts of water squeezing through the crack in the door she used to get in here. The support beams groaned as the water seeped through the cracks and pores into her aquatic prison.
Fuck. Fuck, she couldn't stop shaking.
One of the screws keeping the back door attached to its frame suddenly popped off from the pressure, and Valleri decided that flight had gotten her out of trouble more than fight had by now.
She sprinted up the staircase, her footsteps splashing softly behind her before she slipped and nearly smashed her jaw on the top stair. Glancing down, she saw her ankle had been caught by a hand made of water, rising from the river flowing down around her. It tugged to pull her back into the basement below, where she jumped as she heard the metal door blow off of its hinges, and the basement flooded, the water level quickly rising up the stairs, one at a time.
Throwing her head up, she managed to catch a glimpse of the interior of the building proper. Rows of pews, large stained-glass windows with streams of rainwater falling down, refracted beautifully by the Lumafly lamps outside in the street, all completely devoid of life.
She was in some kind of… church? Bug God probably didn't favor her very highly. (Or maybe He did, if she's gotten this far?)
Although Hallownest mostly used Lumafly lanterns for everything, fire was still occasionally used for recreation, warmth, and in religious ceremonies. A large chandelier of candles hung suspended from the ceiling by a single, dark chain.
Valleri whipped out her revolver, mentally noting that this was her second shot out of six, and took a shot at the single supporting chain. Whatever God this church worshipped must have favored her more than she thought, as her shot fired true, and with a sharp clang!, the entire chandelier came crashing down in a massive heap of warped metal, broken wood, and most importantly, of fire.
The water grabbing her by the ankle quickly receded, letting her go. Valleri didn't even stop to think before scrambling to her feet and storming into the church's main hall, already searching for another way to ascend higher. She hardly got a few steps before she staggered, the doors to the church bursting open, a torrent of water rushing in and homing in on the fire she made to quickly extinguish it. She took that as her cue to keep moving.
She managed to find a small ladder in a back closet that led up to the top floor, a storage room with a large, spherical window at the end. She recognized the pattern, but didn't know what it meant; six wings and a tall, sharp crown. ...Wait, that action figure in the basement had that same crown. Well, whatever if that was their God.
She collapsed to the safety of the floor, letting herself rest for just a small moment. She just needed to breathe, feeling her heart start to slow down, the sweat start to roll up her neck, she should be able to hide out in-
…
…
...
...The sweat rolling… up her neck?
Valleri threw herself to the floor, desperately clawing at her neck. She could feel the wetness of the single drop of water on her fingers, but it didn't come off. It continued its march along her skin despite her struggles, and Valleri wasn't keen to find out where it was headed. She half-ran, half-fell her way over to the other end of the attic-like space, desperately searching for a towel or something to get this damn water off of her.
From somewhere overhead, she heard a doink, a knock, and then a glass ceiling she didn't even know was there shattered.
Valleri yelped, rain pouring in as glass shards clattered to the floor, and like some wicked angel of death, Isma descended from above, suspended in mid-air by the rain drops all around her. Her gaze betrayed no expression as her feet gracefully touched down to the floor, mindful of the broken glass without needing to glance around her.
"I knew I had recognized this, Valleri," she spat with a venom Valleri didn't know was possible. She raised her blade, displaying the bullet she'd fired earlier embedded in its watery hilt.
"I've only seen this small, metallic… thing, once before. Can you guess where?"
Valleri remained silent as she shakily rose to her feet, staring Isma dead in the eye. Her hands twitched at her sides. She was bloody, bruised, dripping wet and freezing cold. She couldn't run, and she was outmatched. She was so tired of all this.
Isma tilted her head, her six eyes curved upwards in a twisted, forced smile. "I found another one at a murder scene."
"That wasn't fucking me!" Valleri shouted. She was so tired of all of this. "I don't know what's going on! I don't even know how the hell I wound up in this backwards fucking kingdom!"
She didn't have the strength to fight anymore, only the strength to fight back at the tears creeping up in her eyes. Tears of frustration, tears of feeling lost, tears of feeling hopeless and cornered and beaten and hurt and being treated like some wild animal because of something you couldn't even comprehend.
"So you deny everything…" Isma mused. She let the bullet drop out of her sword and fall into her waiting hand, before pocketing it as evidence to use against her later. If there was a later. The seam Valleri had put in her sword closed, and Isma raised her rapier, sharp as ever, straight at Valleri.
Maybe it was just all the water flowing around them, maybe it was just from the overwhelming stress she was under, but Valleri thought she saw a glint of something in Isma's eye; some kind of blinding, stabbing hatred, something that neither of them could resist, nor understand.
"I'll say it one final time. Surrender."
The raindrops froze around her. The water froze. Isma froze. Valleri froze. Time froze. Her heart froze. Her mind froze.
Everything froze, in the same way the whole world freezes when you're in midair, at the very peak of your flight for a split second that lasts far too long, just before everything comes crashing down all around you.
Blinking tears away, Valleri's hand flew to her gun, and she leveled the barrel straight at Isma's head.
"LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!"
She never pulled the trigger. The stray raindrop on her neck dug into her skin, startling her out of making the shot by a scraping fraction of a second. Just enough for Isma to launch every last raindrop straight at her.
Several missed and shattered the intricate stained-glass window behind her, but most struck their target, some firing straight through her body like a volley of bullets, others only leaving a strong enough impact to send her bullet-riddled body flying backwards through the window, and into the open air above the streets.
For a haunting second, Valleri just floated there. Everything was frozen. Her toes just barely touching the very edge of the windowsill, colorful shards of glass floating along with her as she struggled to think through the sheer pain her body was in.
She caught one final glimpse of Isma, rearing her arm back as she threw her rapier with immense force and surgical precision, straight into her chest. The impact of being impaled was strong enough to send Valleri fully backwards, too far gone to return, and all too quickly, everything came crashing down.
Her body was on fire.
And then she was falling.
Something broke, and she stopped thinking.
Isma only stared on as Valleri's body launched backwards and into the street, crashing unceremoniously into a cloak vendor's stall across the square. The very same vendor where she first met Valleri, she recalled - the irony of it was not lost on her - but it made no difference.
She'd done her job. The City was safe. The killer was…
As the alien creature lay atop a broken pile of shellwood and fabric, her rapier already returning to regular water within her chest, Isma could tell that she was barely, just barely, still breathing, from the steady rise and fall of her chest.
Good.
That was… good, she thought. Were things better this way? Did she hope she killed her? Should she have killed her?
She clenched her fists. Now that her mission was completed, her anger draining away, she mentally kicked herself. It was clear, even to her, that much of this was just personal vengeance. She couldn't help it. And if she couldn't help it, then maybe she shouldn't have completed this mission. (Maybe she shouldn't have been knighted.)
...No. This was good, wasn't it? One way or another, the City was peaceful again. That… case, could finally make some actual headway with a suspect within custody. Maybe she could finally be at peace, with herself if with nothing else.
"O-Oh! Lady Isma!"
A call from below pulled her out of her thoughts, and she looked down to see two City guards waving up at her from the streets below. They almost looked familiar.
"We're just here to apprehend the suspect on the Watcher's orders, and, ah… probably hospitalize them, too," he said, eyeing Valleri's unconscious form warily. "I forgot to ask earlier, but... can we get your autograph?"
Chapter name and summary are a reference to Riders on the Storm by The Doors.
Other musical references in this chapter include:
Biz Markie (artist)
Happy 4th anniversary Hollow Knight :)
And even though this is actually for the other story and not this one, I still want to say thank you for 10,000 hits on AO3 AND for the TV Tropes mention! It's hard to believe we've gotten this far when we're only just getting started with our story plan, but the positive feedback has been amazing! Thank you all so much!
We've also decided to make a Discord server for this series! FFN won't let me post actual links, so here's just the invite code: PYXCv9tUPg
I love brutalizing both of my main protags in two adjacent chapters :) next chapter for the main fic is next. Please leave a review and we hope to see you then! (no srsly, comments are both Piston and I's lifeblood)