Chapter Seven
moar kissing nao plz?
It was early morning when Mihi crept from her cot. The pink haired demon rubbed her shoulder with a grimace. Even though it had been healed when she arrived at the camp, it hadn't exactly set right. Too many healings, she supposed. After a while, immunity kicks in.
She couldn't stay in that little tent, just couldn't. She would start sleeping, and all of a sudden she would recall Gossamer's face as a wing was ripped from her body. Her two former teachers, now her commanders, had noticed changes in her, not just her new pre-dawn rising. Mihi, long known for ogling boys, was oblivious to their existence as potential lovers.
As the camp came to life, Mihi had already eaten and moved onto working. She sat in front of a mirror, scrying. While anyone watching her would simply see her reflection, she saw nearly unspeakable images. Of course, they wouldn't protect their torture from being scryed. Not for the first time, she wanted to wring Slade's scrawny neck.
It didn't take long for her to be unable to watch, and she fled the mirror for somewhere open, and just laid there.
At some point, Lucky joined her. The two stayed there in silence for a while.
"What's got you so upset?" Lucky asked.
Mihi was not known for crying. She was the girl who screamed swearwords at the slightest provocation. But her eyes watered as she said, "I don't wanna talk about it."
"You need to," the woman pointed out.
"But-"
"No buts. You need to tell someone, because it's obviously eating you up inside."
The demon's shoulders slumped. "Gossamer," she whispered. "She's still with them."
"Not for long, I think." Lucky frowned. "We'll see who I get this next time."
"She's one of my best friends," she whispered.
Lucky raised her eyebrows.
"...I might have...you know...a thing for her..." She cast her eyes away. "They ripped one of her wings out," she whispered. "Right in front of me. I couldn't do anything." And suddenly she was screaming. "I fucking hate Pride! That- that bitch- I swear to anything, I will end her!"
"Then I'd suggest studying up on some spells that induce instant death." The tall woman raked an eye over her. "Sides, you two share an elemental affiliation, and yours is stronger. Overpower her with it, when you manage to get to her."
Mihi's mouth opened and closed. Then she grinned lopsidedly. "I'll make sure she can't do anything else," she promised.
Being tortured leaves an unshakeable print on someone. They look haunted, their physical nature has changed, their mental state is, well, unstable. They have seemingly irrational fears. Their abilities have changed.
When Lucky managed to return with the little pink fairy, Gossamer lacked all of her wings. Mihi helped to wrap her back in bandages, silently raging. Afterwards, she wrapped an arm around Goss's shoulders and pulled her tight. They cried together, on the infirmary tent's cot, silent but for occasional gasps.
Gossamer, like Mihi, couldn't stand the enclosed tents at night. Too cell-like, like the former dormitories they had been imprisoned in. Finally, they just resolved to sleep outside. Others who had been rescued by Lucky followed suit.
The two wouldn't leave each other's side. Paranoia, perhaps. But rational, nonetheless. Gossamer was there to stop Mihi from attacking the guy who liked to whistle. Mihi was there to stop Gossamer from attacking the woman who looked exactly like Avarice. Mostly, though, they were finding spells. Both were exceptionally good with magic, and in each other's company, their abilities further expanded, especially with their sudden drive to further them. Both had claimed a Sin they planned on destroying. Pride, of course, was Mihi's target, while Gossamer's was Envy.
Their opportunity to test these out came with an attack plan by Wrath and Osiris. Both girls immediately volunteered to take part in the sneak attack force led by Osiris, rather than the group luring Slade's main force out.
Both were selected.
Dis had changed in the several months that it had been ruled by Slade. Streets were bleak, guarded by his little monstruous creations. Ordinary guards would have been too much trouble, as they would have disobeyed or he would have had a grudge towards them.
It was lucky that the monsters couldn't sense invisibility spells, such as the one that the Avarice lookalike was providing.
Lucky was the one who smashed the wards. Literally, in fact, with a spelled hammer. It was a choice no one had wanted to comment on, really.
Most of the force loyal to Slade - most had been threatened into it, honestly - were out responding to Wrath's lure. They were mostly undisturbed as they went about systematically breaking people out. Mihi and Gossamer found Kamen and Lindhal, and several others they knew, but not Jolie or Chaud. Lucky chose not to tell them about the room of dead bodies she found, which contained the two, thrown like ragdolls atop a pile.
They went unmolested until the two staying Sins found them. Lucky found herself fighting Pride, Osiris found himself fending off Envy.
The two younger demons looked at each other. The practices (done on bugs, always) of spells for death flashed through their minds. Who knew if they were even capable of ending the lives of these two? They had been confident for quite a while beforehand, but now, nerves set in.
But then Gossamer narrowed her eyes, stepped forward, and cast it. It suddenly went quiet, and a look of faint surprise crossed Envy's face as she crumpled in a sudden boneless heap. She died there swiftly. Mihi took a deep breath as she too cast. Pride survived a moment or two longer, as blood suddenly gushed forth from her body.
In the suddenly bloody hallway, Mihi and Gossamer looked at each other. Right then and there, Mihi grabbed Gossamer and just kissed her. It was brief, it was sudden, and it was rudely interrupted.
"It's nice that you two are happy again, but might I suggest holding the makeouts till we're back at camp?" It was Osiris, of course, and the two separated, red.
Wrath eyed the approaching column through her spyglass, a satisfied grin on her face. "Someone remind me to thank Osiris for remembering this place."
"How d'you want to thank him?" Koru asked, curious.
"In bed. What do you think?" She glanced over to see the normally unflappable man turning red. "Oh come on! It's not like we've ever been a secret." His ears were red too, she observed. "Is this because you're wondering if you should be thanking Lucky in bed?" she asked, smirking. "And your hair doesn't flatter your face right now, Koru."
One of the demons standing nearby clapped a hand to her mouth to stifle her giggles, as Koru somehow, impossibly, grew even more red.
"They're close enough we can set the wards up," she added to the small group of mages around her. A breath came out in a whoosh. "Welcome to the first battle," she added. "I can already tell you it ain't going to be the last."
The mages, which included several full and part demons, as well as one extravagantly curly haired human, joined hands. Most spells required nothing physical, but group spells absolutely necessitated physical contact between the casters. For wards, even more was required - blood had to be shed. Unlike the powerful bloodmagic, where one loosed their own blood, group wards needed the two main casters to, as the spell concluded, cut the arm of the other open. At least there were healing spells... Needless to say, wards were dangerous spells.
Wrath tuned out their spell as she focused on keeping a masking spell over it, thanking everything that existed that it was Gluttony leading this force, and that Envy wasn't attached. Of all the Sins, Envy was the most adept with magic, and would have sensed the wards through the masking spell. Wrath was good enough to best Gluttony and Pride at magic, and to hold her own with all the others, but she knew full well that she couldn't have handled the harpy woman. There were other people handling her, anyhow. What Wrath excelled at was war. Not weapons, like Pride, but war- the logistics, the planning. She had an ineffable instinct for how to strike, and what to do with people. It had served her well, over the centuries.
"Ready?" she asked the casters, as she smelled blood. At their chorused 'yes', she loosed the masking spell that had contained it, and felt the spells spring up all around. A smile settled across her face.
Two hours of fighting later, Wrath ducked and rolled away from Gluttony. She sprang back to her feet in time to block a blow that might have taken her head, silently thanking Osiris - not for the first time - for the metal plates sewn into her gloves. Her sword was buried in some demon yards away, and her main opponent was the pink haired demon. She wasn't sure how she'd wound up in the battle, rather than directing it, but contemplating that would have been too distracting for the present situation.
At some point, she'd found herself having to rescue a pair of demons encircled by some of Gluttony's fighters. One had been wounded and couldn't stand. In a brief lull, she healed his shoulder, before throwing herself back into it.
When people speak of battle, they pretend it to be clear, that one is always aware of what is occurring. That only holds true when one is an observer, able to survey the entire site, or in charge, knowing exactly what is happening. When you get in the thick of it, there isn't time to think, nor are there eyes enough to be aware of everything that happens. It's just you, your weapon, your next opponent, and a hell of a lot of adrenaline. Quite frankly, it's absolutely terrifying, except that if you get scared, you're dead.
But battles do inevitably wind down, as people retreat to the sidelines, to heal, gasp for air, or remove the dead they can. Fights between two people have been known to suddenly become the entire battle, when the rest cannot even muster the energy to continue. That happened at some point in the midst of this battle. Not that Gluttony or Wrath noticed, since they were too focused on not dying.
It was a classic case of two swords versus one, once the smaller acquired a pair laying on the ground, during a lucky roll away from the other demon. Wrath used her pair with precision, while Gluttony swung hers with wild abandon, which certainly made it a bit harder for the smaller demon to get to her. For a moment, they broke, panting, glaring. Then they were back at it, swinging, pivoting, practically dancing.
When Wrath managed to land one of her swords in Gluttony's shoulder, the other demon apparently decided that this battle was finished. The wards, which had prevented anyone from escaping by disappearing elsewhere, had fallen quite a while before, and the demon waved her sword, a signal of retreat, to her remaining force, as she herself disappeared.
Wrath wasn't sure if she should be laughing or swearing. "I guess we won the first battle," she told Koru, as she walked to him.
"Yeah..." He cast a glance over the field. "That trick won't work again, though."
"I've got several centuries worth of tricks," she told him. "I am the oldest of all the Sins."
"I look forward to seeing them," he replied.
She turned to the field, and with he rest of the mages, set it ablaze. Better to burn the bodies than let any necromancer Slade might have on his side get to the bodies.
When Wrath's fighters returned to camp, Osiris' had been there a few hours. Of course, the first sight any of the returning people stumbled upon was Gossamer and Mihi fast asleep in the sun, with some amused demons watching.
"What's so funny?" Wrath asked one of them, who she vaguely remembered from years past.
"Those two," he said, gesturing at them. "Killed Pride and Envy and then made out."
Wrath shook her head, grinning. "Knew I liked them for a reason." She patted his shoulder, and went to find Osiris. She had questions. Well, questions and then they'd get to more diverting things.
People drifted apart, to do what they needed, and Koru went to find Lucky, guessing she'd be back on Earth, at the apartment they'd got. Of course, he was correct. She lay sprawled on the couch, staring holes in the wall. He sat next to her, waiting for the explosion. Lucky, after all, wasn't good at hiding her emotions. She burst out with the first thing on her mind in any awkward silence, couldn't win at poker to save her life (poker faces were beyond her ability), and thought of consequences to her words only later. It was a complete contrast to how he was. Koru kept his emotions close, and usually communicated primarily by his behavior. He wasn't good at reading people's emotions, but he was good at predicting actions. In his head, he counted to the explosion of what was bothering her. 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2-
"What the fuck is wrong with people?" she snarled.
"With which 'people' specifically?"
She flailed her hands. "People people!"
His eyebrows raised. "In what sense are we talking about?"
"You didn't see the bodies I found," she snapped. "Chaud and his girlfriend in a fucking bin, dead." His lips thinned, and he pulled her upright, into a hug, letting her continue her tirade into his shoulder. "I mean, really? How can anyone want power so badly they kill a kid off for being friends with someone they hate? What possesses someone to act like that little asswipe?" She pulled away, to her feet, to pace. "I kill for money, not pleasure. It doesn't make me gleeful to kill some guy in Switzerland unless he's a rapist or something, but I only do it for money. It just...making it personal." She whirled, and Koru ducked beneath her braid.
"Lucky, your braid," he said.
"Wha- Oh." She flushed, and sat down to begin unbraiding it. "Sorry." Her fingers were good at handling it, and quickly the chain was piling on the floor. "Pride and Envy enjoyed it. They were proud of the torture they had done. I make it quick, no torture. I can't comprehend the drawn out murder of these people. It's- it's awful, goddamnit!" She unlaced the headband that kept the chain in her hair, and dropped it to the floor, leaping to her feet to pace again, her wavy mane swishing behind. "Koru, I don't get what's wrong with people."
"No one does, Luck," he said. "We just do what we can to help people, and stop the really bad guys." He plopped onto the sofa. "You answered yourself, a bit. Slade acts the way he does because he is possessed. By greed, by power, by the thrill of being in control. He gets a sick rush out of it." His shoulders raised in a shrug. "I don't understand what about it thrills people. I just know that it does."
She dropped next to him, ignoring the groan of the couch. Two seven-footers were not meant for ordinary furniture, after all. "It's just weird, thinking that we aren't going to see Chaud's gay-ass wings again," she said. "And it's fucked up to realize that a kid who only reaches my boobs is the one doing all this. And I'm pissed about this whole shit, and Syth and Ina sniping at each other and just everything."
"Are you pissed at me?" he asked, slightly curious.
"No," she said, and buried her head in his shoulder. "Not right now, anyhow."
They sat there in silence for a while, till she pulled away. "I need to go...let Ina know. About Jolie."
"I'll make dinner, and we can go over some plans K'thonya and Crest came up with," he said, and waved to her as she disappeared. Once she was gone, his shoulders slumped. "I'd better not die anytime soon," he told the air, "Or Chaud's going to kill me again for not figuring out some way to tell her." He stared at the wall, considering. "I wonder what happens if you get killed when you're already dead..."