Eighth Stroke – Coarse Residue
"You look like hell," it was the first thing Luny said after performing his usual materialize from the shadows optical chicanery.
Sylvia was not in a particularly good mood. The ghosts of the day were proving substantially more difficult to banish than usual, and interwoven with dreadful, ridiculous speculations about the future she was decidedly unsettled. It took a great deal of effort to keep things contained before the man in black's obviously mocking tone. "I apologize for my appearance," Sylvia said slowly. "I did wash the uniform with as much effort as time allowed, but some of the stains simply would not be removed."
That was rather an understatement. Tyrin, fighting in close with the borrowed daggers, stolen spear, and later using her own sword for the necessary butchering, had gotten the white uniform quite thoroughly coated in human blood, particularly on the legs. It had not been completely unanticipated, but Sylvia had been forced to acknowledge just how much the normal half-human half-yoma speed and the length of their great blades served to insulate them from the red stains of battle.
"That's not yoma blood," it wasn't a question. Luny shook his head slowly, and raised his left hand to his forehead in his habit. "You know, the reports are really messy. None of the adults in that village had the courage to watch your little fracas. I had to extract information from a man who'd had both arms amputated and an eight year old girl who dared to watch out a window. It was very troublesome."
"I cannot see how I could have done anything to change that," Sylvia spoke cautiously. "I left the scene as it was for you to see, was that much at least useful?"
"A bit," Luny grumbled. "Awfully confusing though, along with the reports." He shook his head again, faster this time. "You know Sylvia, they were saying it was a Claymore who marched into town and started killing the soldiers. The way they tell it the whole thing was pretty merciless. Almost two dozen dead, and probably as many who ran, and here you are in a uniform soaked in human blood…"
"I would hope you would not simply tease me about such matters," Sylvia said softly. "It has not been a pleasant day."
"Fine then, I'll be blunt," he groused. "What happened? Did you kill those men?"
"No," Sylvia's voice was firm and her response immediate. "I injured a number of them, I suspect including the amputee you spoke to, but I did not so much as cut as single human today."
"I don't think you're a good enough liar for you to say an untruth straight to my face like that," Luny remarked. "But that hardly squares with the descriptions. If you didn't kill those men who did?"
"Tyrin did," Sylvia informed him.
"So it's the swordswoman huh?" Luny took his hand from his head, twisting it slowly through the air, fingers twisting randomly. "Then why did that little girl give me a very nice description of someone in what is assuredly that same bloody uniform you're wearing, putting a sword through a man's chest as he slumped against a window? She was very clear, aside from all the crying, and children are usually surprisingly honest."
"I suspect you are correct," Sylvia answered, and carefully, feeling her petulance, took her chance to jab Luny back a little. It probably wasn't the best approach, but she was feeling awfully irritated by this interrogation. "As certainly that happened, but what that young lady almost certainly did not realize is that Tyrin was wearing the uniform at the time."
"The swordswoman was?" Luny froze completely, as if he had encountered something completely impossible and unprecedented. Sylvia had never seen him do that before. Then he burst out laughing, a cruel, gravelly noise devoid of warmth. "So that's it, you switched places. It makes sense then, why none of the bodies had wounds fitting your sword, not even the yoma. It explains the part about the Claymore wielding a spear too, that didn't make any sense before. Amazing…"
Sylvia just watched him silently in the moonlight. To her it was not at all funny. It had been a desperate stratagem, and though a success, had cost both of them something they could not truly name.
"So then you killed the yoma with the woman's sword?" Luny clarified.
"That is correct," Sylvia explained and added, anticipating the question. "And I used her shield to wound and disperse the rest of the humans."
"Well, well," Luny's left hand retreated under his cowl again. "That's good then, you managed to get through that mess without breaking the rules. A very enterprising solution, and now I don't have to worry about a termination order, that's good."
Somehow, standing in the darkness, Sylvia nursed the suspicion that Luny had never truly suspected her of killing any of the humans, but had made her go through this whole process to remind her of the seriousness of the rule. It bothered her, but she could not truly be mad at him for it. Perhaps he is justified, at that, she thought darkly. The rule did get broken from time to time, sometimes because one of them snapped, but equally often because one of her kind thought she could just get away with it and not report the incident. Plenty of them nursed poor attitudes toward humans, Sylvia herself cared little for most of them, and Tyrin was clearly an exception, not the rule.
As Luny momentarily paused, Sylvia took the opportunity to raise the question she had known she must ask from the moment it became clear she would survive the trap. "What is the cause of what I just went through today?"
"The cause?" Luny fidgeted slightly. "Meaning?"
"This is the second time," Sylvia forced herself to speak levelly, appropriately. "There may be some time separating them, but it is still the second time. Either this was someone who learned of what happened before and tried to copy it, or its someone who's been arranging things behind the scenes and is gradually planning for more. Either way, something is wrong. What is allowing this abominable human-yoma alliance?"
"I have no idea," Luny answered dejectedly, and Sylvia realized that he wasn't simply hiding information; the disappointment in his voice was just too real. "I investigated the last time, nothing turned up. I thought it was just a yoma with a bright idea." He shook his head, and this time kept shaking it. "But this is too deliberate, it was a trap, a trap specifically designed to get one of you. This time they even ruined the village too, so there's nothing to show for it, one less paying customer in the world."
Sylvia declined to comment on that bit, she did not know if Luny was uncaring, jaded, or simply talking about it that way to avoid emotion. It was perhaps unfair to assume the worst from him.
"The organization will investigate, fully," he promised. "We'll find out who's behind this and a way to get rid of it. We can't have this sort of thing spreading; it'd be terrible for business."
This was hardly the most reassuring of motives to the Claymore, but at least the man in black was serious. "What about until then?" Sylvia wondered. "I only recognized this trap because I had experienced it before, and that time I survive only due to highly fortuitous coincidence. There is a threat to us here. Can something be done about it?"
"Hmm…" Luny's hand dropped from his cowl to his side. "I'll pass the word along to be more careful about examining jobs, maybe we can find a pattern. For the rest well, you'll just have to keep a sharp eye won't you?"
A non-answer, about what Sylvia had expected. Luny probably had some other reason and plan, but he clearly didn't intend to disclose it. She hadn't thought he would, though it would have been nice if he had. "Very well, I'll make a point to be cautious," she announced. And I will make certain any of us I come across receives word of this, she added to herself. Another worrisome possibility presented itself to her when she thought about the situation. I was lucky to survive the first time, impossibly lucky. If there have been other incidents there may well have been deaths. If so then no one would know. She didn't tell this to Luny, he surely could make the connection on his own, and must have a better idea of who might fit that profile than she would, but it stroked her anger, so she made an uncharacteristic choice. "When you do find out who is responsible, I would like to be considered to join the mission to clean up the source."
"Rare of you to request something like that," Luny noted. "Fine though, I suppose you've got as much a right as any, considering. If the logistics work out, look forward to it."
"I suppose I shall," Sylvia replied with no real enthusiasm. Another brutal massacre was not precisely her idea of an ideal job, but she felt responsible in a way.
"Heh," he grumbled. "In the meantime, I've got another job for you, a big one, a nest."
Surprise surely showed on Sylvia's face from the flippant motion of Luny's hand that followed, and she was slightly ashamed. Yet the assignment was significant enough to justify a minor lapse in control, if anything was. "A nest," she confirmed.
Luny just nodded. "To the northwest, it's a small village north of Treadersberg; which happens to be the meeting point. You need to make it there in a week and a half."
Sylvia knew the region of her assignment and the surrounding areas very well by now. Treadersberg from her current position would be a hard push to make in a week and a half. It would mean many very long days on the march, stopping only when they'd made the right distance, not at convenient towns. She hoped Tyrin could keep up. Well, at least she can rest when we get there, Sylvia noted. There was no way the human warrior would be coming on this particular mission.
"So, try not to be late will you, it looks bad," Luny clearly meant it looked bad for him; he didn't care about her reputation. "You've always managed to be on time in the past, I'd hate to see that woman cause you to develop bad habits. Though maybe it's good that she's been teaching you, you might come back a little less roughed up this time."
"I will be on time," Sylvia spoke firmly. To be late would be bad procedure, and she didn't mess things like that up. "Will I get a new uniform in Treadersberg?"
"Yeah, though you might as well not wear it until after you're done, considering," Luny quipped.
The Claymore thought that a crass comment, but the man had a point. Cleaning out a nest was going to be messy, that much was unavoidable.
Luny didn't bother to say anything more; he simply turned and walked back into the shadowy darkness, ending the conversation with silence.
Sylvia made herself forgo a grimace, and walked back through the woods to the roadside clearing where Tyrin waited by a small fire.
Oddly the human woman did not look up as Sylvia returned, but simply continued staring into the flickering flames, her attention elsewhere. Sitting down beside her there was still not reaction. Not wanting to speak, but curious and unwilling to simply sit in silence, the Claymore picked up a piece of wood and tossed it into the fire, causing a crackling crash of sparks and embers.
"W-what?" Tyrin's voice seemed to come from far away, and her eyes were on something not within the clearing. "Oh, you're back, sorry."
"You seem distracted,' Sylvia noted cautiously. "Is there a problem?"
The other woman's head jerked around suddenly, and gray eyes met silver. Slowly her face acquired a wan smile. "That's a new one, you asking me if I'm alright. I'm not sure if I should be happy or if it's just that pathetic."
Am I truly so uncaring? Sylvia wondered. When she couldn't answer herself immediately she looked away from Tyrin, hiding a frown she couldn't manage to bury completely. It was embarrassing, to not be able to accept more from this woman who had sacrificed to travel with her, who had give her sword arm and her companionship and gained so little in return. I had wanted to become her friend, Sylvia remembered. Now I wonder I am even capable of having a friend.
"Honestly," Tyrin's voiced crept into the fire's crackles. "This sure isn't the best night of my life. I thought I was used to battle, at least, as much as you can ever be, but something like this, it just wasn't the same. Do you know what I mean?"
Sylvia nodded slightly, thinking that she might. Yoma are yoma, putting them down is a job, a task one learns to structure a life around. Fighting humans is not the same; it seems like a monstrous act, even when the men have chosen to stand with true monsters. The Claymore realized the true revulsion of this threat then, perhaps for the first time consciously. It is not the danger to us that makes this all so wretched. It is that humans should choose to side with yoma. Every time it happens it blurs the lines and brings the worlds closer. It could turn all of reality into versions of us.
This last thought was so hideous that Sylvia forced herself to close her eyes and consciously recall other images, burying it beneath an avalanche of pleasant scenery, mountains, forests, ripening crops, Tyrin's face in a rare smile. The last was new, and caught her off guard. Have I become so attached?
"It's funny you know," Tyrin went on slowly. "I feel worse about the dead today than I have after many fights, but these fools surely deserved it so much more. Even so, even so, I just can't shake the wrongness of it all, as if I was swinging my sword at completely the wrong target."
"You're right," Sylvia replied with sudden and complete agreement. "Those people, even those yoma, were just tools being manipulated by whoever came up with this hideous plan. It is that one, and the very idea of this alliance, that must be destroyed, everything else is just more blood."
"Maybe we shouldn't have tried to save some of them for interrogation then," Tyrin mused, her mood improving by the slightest fingernail margin. "I guess that's a mistake to rectify if it happens again."
"I don't think that will be necessary," Sylvia explained. She had questioned whether to share this, but now, without all her usual careful consideration, decided to go ahead. "I was told the organization will investigate fully. This has the potential to vastly disrupt business, so it is being taken very seriously. The organization is good at finding people and things that don't want to be found," at least Sylvia's experience and hearsay made it seem so. "They'll find the answer, and we will get a chance to finish this."
"If you believe it, I suspect you're right," Tyrin nodded. "Certainly that guy seems to keep pretty good track of you in spite of all the wandering." The soldier paused briefly. "Still, it'd be nice if that were right away, or maybe another job close by. I could use a distraction; it sure helped the last time."
"Unfortunately, I'm afraid that won't be the case." Sylvia returned. "The next assignment requires a week and a half march northwest, to Treadersberg. We shall have to push hard to get there in time."
"That is pretty far," Tyrin looked up to the starry sky briefly. "Well, a hard march isn't so bad though. Fatigue can take your mind off things, though maybe you don't get that so much."
Sylvia shook her head; it would take far more than some serious marching to tire her body.
"Treadersberg seems awfully far though assuming I recall right," Tyrin mused. "None of the other assignments have taken us that kind of distance."
"This is not a regular type of assignment," Sylvia explained carefully. "And so I'm going outside my usual operational region."
"I don't like hearing about irregular assignments," Tyrin's expression soured. "What's different?"
"The task is to eradicate a nest," The claymore replied.
"A nest? What's a nest?"
"Nest is what we call a village or town where yoma have taken over," Sylvia explained grimly. The topic was not a pleasant one. "It is quite rare, since yoma do not like to work in groups under normal circumstances, but for various reasons and coincidences it occasionally happens. The yoma will slaughter and consume the residents and then stay and pretend to be the town so they can kill and eat anyone who wanders within reach. Nests may contain a great many yoma, including more experienced and powerful ones or those with rare abilities such as the winged type we saw some time ago. Cleaning them out is extremely expensive, it usually takes a group of merchants some time to gather the money to pay for such a removal."
"Damn," Tyrin gave Sylvia a hard look. "And you're assigned this all by yourself? That's new, today's three yoma was the most of them yet, usually there's only one."
"Not by myself, I would not be sent alone," Sylvia questioned if any of them would be, even the most elite usually took at least one other, to prevent possible freak accidents. "This is a task for a team, probably of four."
"A team is it?" there was a highly curious expression of the soldier's face. "That'll be something to see I imagine." She trailed off then, looking back to the fire briefly. "A hard march starts tomorrow then? I had best try to find some sleep while I can."
"Indeed," Sylvia replied softly. She felt a brief twinge of guilt of not explaining to Tyrin here and now that she would need to stay behind in Treadersberg for the next assignment, but it would perhaps be better, if less honest, to explain it when they reached their destination.
After the fire was banked and they lay together in darkness Sylvia did not reach sleep for some time. Looking up at the clear sky above her, she thought back on the events of the day. Dark scars rode with some of them, hideous images and feelings best ignored, sped onto to forgetfulness, but there was at least one bright spot. Three yoma. It was a good number. They had been surprised to be sure, and had not displayed any of the more potent abilities some yoma possessed, but it was still three, defeated with quickness and ease even when wielding Tyrin's smaller weapons. Have my skills increased somewhat? Sylvia was uncertain, but she knew that if nothing else she had learned to use the single-edged sword and shield with a modicum of ability. It was a point of some pride, learning something like that, and a new thing. I have been static for a very long time, she acknowledged to the stars. That was fine, there was nothing wrong with that, but perhaps this can be good too.
Notes: and the plotline advances and takes shape, yay! Or at least, I hope so. And lo, there is the promise of new Claymores in the next chapter. Hopefully this triggers at least a little salivating. Discussion about the 'nests' of yoma is based largely on the town where Noel, Sophia, Irene, and Priscilla met before going after Teresa, a town that was apparently full of at least a few dozen yoma.