Chapter Two:

Means to an End

I think that this is useless. Artemis sheathed her swords in frustration. How could she have expected that Atalanta would show herself? Every night, for so long, Artemis continued the hunt. She tracked Atalanta around the globe, and every time she tried to strike, Atalanta slipped away from her. Now, she was trying a new approach, but it seemed like she was going to have to throw this idea away with all of the others. Even under an alias, even as a supposed 'arms dealer'; she had a sneaking suspicion that Atalanta would always know where she was. She was always the hunter, even more so than me. As evil as Atalanta was though, Artemis could not help but blame herself for not recognizing the signs that her friend was- very different from the others she had befriended. Atalanta had always been taunted for her power, and mocked for her fiery temper. She resented them; I should have seen that. It's why she's done what she's done.

Artemis' shoulders slumped. I should just go. I- I should just go now, and leave this behind. But I know that I won't. I'll just keep chasing her until I die. Or she dies. Maybe I should just-

"Artemis, hello. I'd almost forgotten all about you. How kind of you to join me." Light laughter filled the air, and Artemis saw Atalanta step quietly out of the shadows, her hand extending in a slight wave, before gripping the hilt of a sword still locked in a sheath on her hip.

The first thing Artemis did was look at her, and take in all the changes in her appearance. Atalanta was clearly no longer the way Artemis had remembered. Atalanta's skin was no longer a light tan, but rather white, like cream; and it had a dull, lifeless shine to it. The shoulder length auburn hair that Artemis had remembered was now cut short; into sharp, ear-length layers. The grey eyes that Artemis were accustomed to were now a dark vermilion, with gold flecks around the pupil. The change Artemis loathed the most, though, was Slade's emblem proudly worn on a metal shoulder guard on Atalanta's right shoulder. There were similar guards on her knees, with the emblem actually etched into each piece of metal.

Artemis shook her head, a mix of hatred and revulsion. "What have you done to yourself, Atalanta?" Artemis said her name like it was a curse, like it was poisonous. She looks so- twisted. Twisted and evil. He did this to her, didn't he?

Atalanta smiled, revealing starkly white teeth. "What has happened to me? Master Slade has improved me, made me stronger than anyone; even you. I was the smarter one; I've embraced my power for what it is. Now I am feared, and you are the one that has fled. Not without my mark, though." As Atalanta said this, faint blue sparks played about the fingertips of her right hand; which were emblazoned with deep, red lines- scars- that ran from the tips of her fingertips to the beginning of her palm.

They circled each other silently, each daring the other to strike first. Artemis swallowed, and kept her face blank. "I have never feared you, and I never will." I fear for you, friend.

Atalanta ignored this, and continued to talk; taunting Artemis and stoking her anger. "I see you've managed to hide my marks, Artemis," Atalanta said, nodding towards the metal bands on Artemis' forearms. "I know that you cannot hide them fully. I bet that my betrayal haunts you in your sleep, and it speaks to you in your dreams. I bet you see it whenever you look into your photo album and look at your mother's picture. What was it like, to see her die? To see her killed-- by me, your friend? And to know that I did it willingly, as a pledge to my master. I wonder if the pain you felt was anything like what you experienced when he died. Although I suppose it was worse, considering that your sister--"

"Shut up! You have no right to talk!" Artemis was deeply incensed by her remarks, but her swords stayed in their sheaths; she was waiting for Atalanta to strike first.

Atalanta drew her own weapon, a thin, sharp rapier, made from an unidentifiable crimson metal which made it glimmer like glass; the coloring of her sword was made to match the deep red of Atalanta's eyes. She gave Artemis a fake incredulous look, one that didn't match her icy glare. "I have no right? I- your-", she laughed, "best friend have no right to speak of your past? I have no right to remind you how you've failed? How your own sister took away whatever happiness you had? Well, with Slade and I's help, of course. But then again, your sister always needed help- didn't she?" She smirked at the silence the followed. "I do hope I have not struck a nerve."

Artemis gazed just as coldly back at her, her arms folded across her chest. Her fingers twitched. It would take a gust of wind to knock her off her feet, and a sword to the skull to shut her mouth. But she needs a chance...just one. "My sister is perfectly capable of survival. She has not retreated into the shadows, or worse, joined Slade. She is not that helpless. She would never stoop as low as to join him."

Atalanta's calm composure broke, but only for a second. "Your sister is nothing but a murderer lacking control! If anyone is helpless, it is she! She is not worthy to even think of serving him!"

Artemis laughed. "Have I struck a nerve, Atalanta?" How far have you gone, Atalanta? If I push you, will you hurt me? "You are nothing to Slade but his servant, a cushion to rest his feet on. You are scrap to him, a worthless piece of drek which can easily be disposed of. Where is your power, weakling?" Will you strike at me, your last friend? Or will I have to hurt you?

Atalanta hefted her sword, and raised her other hand; the blue sparks appearing just as they did before. In a second, her hand was out, shooting an arc of icy sapphire lightning at Artemis. The lightning hit her shoulder, and picked her up like a ragdoll; throwing her ten feet backwards through the air. She hit a pile of boxes of boxes on the rooftop, scattering them; a few tumbling and resting precariously on the roof's edge. The sparks traveled outward in a star-like pattern, zipping over her teeth, before dissipating into the cement rooftop. Artemis groaned. The lightning hadn't entered her body, by some feat of Atalanta's control; but it had still hurt. A lot.

Atalanta walked slowly to where Artemis was lying. When Artemis tried to get up, Atalanta kicked her down again. "Who is weak?!" Atalanta yelled. "I am still standing, am I not? You are the one on the floor."

Artemis sat herself up, not trusting herself to speak yet; while Atalanta watched her warily, her sword twitching nervously in her hands. A voice in Atalanta's head cried out, wanting her to kill Artemis now, and return to Slade with her corpse. That is what I've have ordered to do, isn't it? Atalanta swept her hurried thoughts away quickly. But not yet! I've barely gotten started; I want to see what happens. What kind of huntress would I be if I killed my prey without a fight? Besides, she deserves the one last chance...she's my friend.

Meanwhile, Artemis had shaken off most of the lightning's effects, but her muscles still twinged painfully. That does it then. She attacked first; I have no choice but to fight back, despite how much I don't want to. "You hit me," she said simply. "Well that's it then."

Artemis drew upon her power and raised her hand. A ball of shimmering opaque white air formed directly in front of her palm. Without a second thought, she sent it careening into Atalanta. The air crashed into her chest. The force of the blow sent Atalanta backwards. Artemis raised her second sword and slashed into Atalanta's stomach, creating a thin, bloody line. The girl before her fell to the floor, sprawled on the rooftop. Atalanta leapt to her feet, and raised her sword. "You will regret that, Artemis. You could have been the one with power, as I am. Slade has given me all I could ever want and more. This city, this world could be yours -ours- if you serve him. You may have denied him once, but I am sure he can be convinced." How could she have done it?! Doesn't she get it?! It wasn't my fault!

Artemis narrowed her eyes and glared at Atalanta. She still did not trust Atalanta, and she was wary of any tricks she could pull. "You fail to see that words can do nothing to sway me. I am true to my path, unlike you." Artemis' gaze softened a bit, and her voice lost its hard edge.

"We were once friends once, Atalanta, why can't you remember? We did everything together. At times, you were as much my sister as my true sister was, sometimes even more. You could be my friend again, Atalanta. Tell me where Slade is. We could fight him. We could defeat him. Together. This path will only destroy you. Slade is using you for his own ends. He is manipulating you, bending you to his will. He has twisted you so much you have changed on the outside," she said, regarding Atalanta's pale skin and burning eyes.

"What happened to the girl I knew? The one who smiled and laughed? I ran through the forest with her; I trained with her. She can not be gone forever, can she? You can be that girl again, Atalanta. Please, turn your back on Slade." Artemis' eyes were large and pleading; lit with the shimmer of hope that Atalanta could forsake him for good. "I have already lost my sister to Slade, I don't want to lose you too," she added quietly.

She wouldn't live through my life. I'll give her back to her mother. Atalanta laughed a cruel, chilling laugh, cold and bitter as the winter wind blowing the dead branches of a tree. She laughed like that for a moment. It only took that moment for Artemis' hopes to be dashed to pieces, blown away like dust in the wind. "I wonder, Artemis, if have you suffered severe brain damage during our time apart? I am too far gone by your standards. I don't want to leave Slade, especially not for you. I don't want to join you on your pathetic crusade. The sooner you can get it through your head, the sooner I can kill you and get this over with. Anyone who does not join me or stands in my way will die. And you, Artemis, have the distinct misfortune of doing both. Now I say it again: I am not switching sides. If you are not with me, you are my enemy."

A sad look crossed Artemis' face as she prepared herself for battle. A deadening weight hung in the air, like the calm before the storm. "Then I will do what I must, Ata." I'm sorry.

As soon as the swords met, there was an unvoiced understanding. They both knew that they were each fighting to the death, that only the better one could walk away alive. Atalanta charged into the fight with gusto, slicing her sword left and right, interspersing her attacks with cold lightning. She longed for a river of blood to fall, the visceral shock of someone's body slumping at the blade of a sword, falling to the floor, and left, un-mourned. She craved for a death, finally letting her dark urges run wild in the duel. But more, she longed for the end. No more watching out for Artemis... Artemis could sleep, with the rest of them.

Artemis fought with a deadly calm. She parried Atalanta's blows with grace and swiftness. She was as a reed, swaying and bending with the wind of each opposing blow. However, she was also determined. Her blows and strikes were strong, each knocking Atalanta back a step. Before long Atalanta was pressed up against the edge of the building. Artemis blocked her from either side with her swords. "It ends here Atalanta. Tell me what I need to know or I will let you fall. Twenty stories is a long way to go."

Atalanta responded by kicking Artemis in the stomach, sending her on her back a few feet in front of her, and also keeping her balance on the ledge. She stepped off of the ledge and looked at Artemis. "You should have killed me when you had the chance. Your heroic nature is going to be the death of you." She raised her sword. "And if that doesn't kill you, than I will." She plunged the sword downwards, towards Artemis' chest. A split second before the sword connected, Artemis rolled to the side. The sword struck the roof and bounced off, throwing Atalanta off balance for a second. She stood quickly and prepared to defend herself. Atalanta was quick to fight again, challenging her with a storm of stabs and kicks. Artemis struggled to parry them all, and to counter them with strikes of her own. They were even with each other, completely and utterly. They had been raised together, and received the same training. They both were wearing down at the same rate, even Atalanta's power of lightning was no longer considered an advantage. In a final act of desperation, Atalanta kicked Artemis hard in the shin, making her falter. She took a step back, caught off-guard by Atalanta's latest attack. Atalanta dove at the weakness, and swung her sword back, like an axe, and swung it out at Artemis' neck. Just die now, Artemis. I'm going back to Slade, and I'm coming back with your head. Maybe with that I'll have fully proven myself to my master. With this blow, I'll end the Elementals. There will be no one to stand against me. You can sleep, Artemis! Take solace in the fact that you can end it now! I can't!

There was no moment of hesitation, no time for Artemis' conscience to scream in agony at the wrongness of the moment. In a single instant, one sword had blocked Atalanta's thrust, one that would have neatly decapitated her; and knocked Atalanta's sword to the ground, flinging it back a few feet. Artemis' other sword had buried itself into Atalanta's flesh, stabbing her through in the middle of her stomach. For the first time since the duel began, the anger left Artemis' eyes, as she saw Atalanta still standing, slumped at her blade; Atalanta's fingers playing against it as she tried to pull it out. Artemis drew a quick breath, and pulled the sword out of her, dropping both swords just as quickly.

Atalanta bent at the knees, swaying weakly before falling backwards on the rooftop. Her head hit the cement with a hard thunk, though that was the least of her worries now. One of her hands moved over her stomach; she was trying to disguise the fact that she had been wounded, but the blood trickling through her fingers betrayed her facade. She took a shallow breath, trying to bring back the color that was rapidly fading from her face and lips. The emblem she had worn on her metal shoulder guard popped off from the impact, and bounced on the ground.

Artemis looked down at her, seemingly uninterested, but inside, she was trying to come to terms with the fact that she was the one that did this. She killed her best friend. In self defense, perhaps, but she had still done it. It was her fault. She pushed me too far. She killed my mother; she deserves to die. Artemis choked back a sob. No- she doesn't. And even if that were true, it wasn't my choice to make. What have I just done? "I didn't think you could do it," croaked Atalanta, who was on the ground near Artemis' shoe. "I didn't know you had the strength. You've killed me, Artemis. Are you happy now?"

Artemis knelt down next to Atalanta and stared at her face. "I didn't want to," she said. "I wanted you to come back- with me." Her voice faltered, and her eyes began to water. "I didn't want you to die. I'm not the one that killed you, Ata; you did this to yourself. You sealed your fate the day you killed my mother." She said the words with a stony face, but inside she wanted nothing more than to have never met Atalanta, so that it would not come to this. "Your disloyalty was your death."

Atalanta grabbed a chunk of Artemis' hair and pulled, so that Artemis was literally face to face with her. She kept an iron grip on the hair, making sure Artemis didn't move. She picked up her bloody hand from her stomach, and grasped Artemis' hand with it, the one that had held the sword that killed her. She clenched it tightly, making sure that her blood rubbed off onto Artemis. She slapped Artemis' cheek clumsily with her fingers, leaving four red stripes. "That's my blood," she growled. "Mine. Murderer. Killer." Friend.

Artemis bit her lip, and tried to pull her hair out from Atalanta's reach. No luck. She could always take it back by force, but then, what was the point? Atalanta was dying, and she would be dead soon. "You did this to yourself, Ata."

Atalanta sneered, her eyes staring to grow unfocused. A tiny little drop of red blood slowly found its way out of the corner of her mouth, and down her chin. More joined it, making a tiny stream, a rivulet of precious blood. Every drop gone was another second of her life stolen away. "Believe whatever keeps the nightmares away. But your words won't last. This'll come full circle, guilt will kill you, just as your sword killed me." Atalanta smiled, bitter and cruel even at her deathbed. More blood trickled from her mouth. A second little blood trail was made, creating two red lines the pooled at the bottom of her throat. "Even better, I hope that it drives you insane. I hope they lock you up, so that you'll never see your sister ever again. Or maybe, you'll kill her too. I bet you'd like that, murderer. Kill everyone who's ever brought you pain. You'll be all alone." Words were starting to become too hard for Atalanta to speak, so her final sentences were whispered, a private sound that only Artemis could hear; and not even the wind could snatch away. Slade could hear it too, Atalanta knew. Slade heard all...she had to give Master a good show.

"I'll not give up my evil on my deathbed, Artemis. I don't want a second chance; I want to stay and hurt you more. Hurt you for every perfect day that you've had that I did not. I would gladly give my soul to someone if they could make that possible." She tried to breath in, but only managed to sound her death rattle. She had used, squandered perhaps, her last words cursing Artemis. "Don't forget that you killed me, because I won't. This day will run thick in your mind, the day you- you the good one- became my murderer." Her death rattle wheezed again, reminding her that her time on earth was all but spent. "Farewell, murderess. I'll wait for you in hell." There was one last strain for breath, then the long, but quick, woosh of life from her mouth, one someone might see as the exit of her soul. Atalanta's blood ran cold then, and her now hand tightened on Artemis' hair with a more lasting grasp. Artemis fought futilely to pull her hair free, but Atalanta had spent her last vestiges of strength in keeping it captive. Artemis reached behind her for her sword, and upon finding it; cut the small section of her hair free. Atalanta's hand fell to the ground with a thud; her hand filled with a chunk of black hair. Artemis shook her head briefly, ignoring the raggedly cut fringe of hair that tickled her jaw.

Atalanta's corpse stared up at the night sky, wide- eyed; her mouth slightly ajar. The blood from her wound had stopped flowing out so quickly, and slowly but surely Atalanta's corpse settled into a position of relative calm, belied by the thin, deep hole in her stomach. Artemis swallowed, processing the image of the corpse in her mind.

Artemis had expected vindication, that she would celebrate her victory and revel in her revenge. In reality, she was given none of these. She only felt emptiness, and the rising guilt of being a murderer, of her best friend, no less. Tears pricked her eyelids, and her eyes began to water. This surprised her. Atalanta was evil, why should she be sad at her death? Artemis' mind went to an old adage her mother had always recited, to make the boundary between good and evil clear. "No one mourns the wicked", she'd say. I should not mourn the wicked. I should not cry. I should not bury her; I should leave her corpse to rot. I should take her sword as a trophy. But I can't not cry; I can't not bury her. I have no choice but to mourn her, because maybe she was not wicked after all. What if I just killed an innocent? Why did I kill at all? Why, why, why? "You're still my friend," she said to Atalanta's corpse. "I can't forgive what you did, but you are still my friend. I'll give you a burial that you'd like; I promise."

Numbly, Artemis reached out for Atalanta's sword, which was lying on the rooftop. She slid it slowly across the roof, making it rest in Atalanta's cold hand. She pulled the other hand over to grasp the hilt, receiving no resistance from Atalanta's dead arm. With both hands on the sword, she set the pommel just at the start of Atalanta's trunk. The blade ran all the way up to the very end of her forehead, tangling in her hair. Artemis smoothed out her hair carefully, making a reddish-gold halo around her face. She gently pushed Atalanta's mouth shut, and finally moved to shut her eyes, those crimson eyes, filled with hate. One eye had a small vein, a marking of the original gray color, struck through its iris. Although, Artemis didn't notice this when she slid Atalanta's eyelids shut.

Once her corpse had been set, as prepared as Artemis could make her for the beyond, Artemis set both of her hands on Atalanta's forehead. "Good bye, my lost friend. Please find peace," she whispered. She focused hard, concentrating enough to make tendrils of black fire, which licked around Atalanta's face. She pulled her hands away, and slid back a few feet as the fire became wild and uncontrollable. It burned every part of Atalanta's corpse it could, covering her body in dark flames. Atalanta's sword began to melt, the molten metal sliding down her shirt and skin. Artemis stayed there for uncounted minutes, watching the flesh in front of her shrivel and blacken. At certain points, she had to look away because she was suddenly reminded that this was her friend, her murdered friend. Finally, after so long, Atalanta's body was gone, the flames dying away, leaving behind only rough ashes and scant scraps of metal. Only one thing remained whole, the emblem bearing Slade's insignia. Artemis stooped down and scooped it up, hefting it in her hand for barely a second before she hurled it into the sky. She regarded the ashes quietly for a minute, giving them the proper respect they deserved. She managed to whip up a gust of air, sending the ashes outward into the sky. The existing breeze in the city snatched the ashes away, sending them in all directions.

As soon as the ashes were gone, Artemis slowly sank into a seated position on the rooftop; holding her swords, and trying to ignore the blood smeared on one. She felt so cold and hollow inside. She sat there, alone for what seemed like hours, but it may have been minutes; she did not care either way. It began to rain after awhile, a moment too fitting for the occasion. Artemis made no attempt to move from the rain that drenched her, plastering her dirty, torn clothes to her skin, and pelting her face and arms. After a while, her damp skin became numbed by the rain, completely unfeeling to even the smallest flecks of ice, when they appeared. She did not even care when the rain stopped a half hour later, returning the night sky to its starry splendor. She was so numbed that she didn't even notice the tears that were sliding rapidly down her cheeks. She refused to look at the blood that was still on her hands, or the dried stripes of red on her cheek. She payed no mind to her bruises and cuts, nor to her countless sore, tired muscles. She refused to acknowledge the rips in her clothes, nor the small scratch on one of her armbands. The time to lick her wounds came later. She could put all of those things off until later. For now, all she could do- all she wanted to do- was stare up at the starry sky, and try to find Atalanta's soul among the many glowing pinpricks of light.

Artemis was awake for hours, wondering why she couldn't find it.

End

Author's Note: A bit dark, but this is one of my favorite chapter's in the story. I was watching "Revenge of the Sith" while writing this, can you tell?

-Artemis out.