The Sorcerer
Three guards were walking down the corridor. Blade immediately put a hand on Garth's arm, pushing him behind her, back round the corner. Her strong protective instinct had snapped back into place quite well, it seemed.
But they had seen her.
"Was that... 273?" one asked, slowly.
She felt them coming down the corridor, poised with her blade, holding her breath.
"I dunno. Hey! 273! What the hell are you doing out here?"
They turned the corner. They didn't have a chance. The first got her blade straight through the stomach before he could pull in a breath, and she spun round, knocking back the next with a braced shoulder. A fireball quickly stopped the last one dead, throwing him backwards into the wall, torching his flesh, and she turned back to the second.
"What the fuck are you doing without your collar on." He growled, shaking his head, slowly.
"What I should have done a long time ago."
She slashed out her blade and he jumped back, avoiding it, coming back with his own, slashing upwards and catching her very slightly across the arm, barely drawing blood. She shook her head and pushed out with her Will, forcing a wall of power into him. But her power was rusty, and, instead of the slight bump she had meant to give him, the power threw him backwards, flying over the edge with a long scream.
She winced, "Oops. Not as quiet as I was hoping. Someone's probably gunna notice that."
Sure enough, an alarm pierced the air, a low, repeating claxon, the warning siren.
Garth swore under his breath, "They've sounded the alarm."
"Aw, let 'em come. I've been waiting for this for far too long."
The sound of clattering feet announced the entrance of several guards in the corridor. Seeing their added number she stopped, pushing her blade hastily back into its holster and closing her eyes, holding out her hands.
She felt the temperature of the air go down a few degrees. Her hands shook at the power inside of her, willing her to let it out. She didn't, letting it build, fighting ferociously with the urge to release. A light wind blew over her, billowing across her long, ragged hair, sending it flying all over her face.
She could sense the guards drawing closer to her, slowly. They were unsure. They were right to be. She could feel the air stirring, energy pulsing through the room.
"Whenever you're ready, Hero." Garth said, uneasily. They must be close then. She gave the power one last, fierce push, and then opened her eyes. Blue light crackled over her hands, sparkled, entombing the whole corridor in a brilliantly bright light.
She caught the eyes of the guard nearest to her, and smiled. Then she let go.
Lightning flew down from the sky, striking the floor with huge crashes, claps of thunder booming down the halls. She pushed again, guiding it, and it struck again, instantaneously hitting each one of the guards, throwing them back against the walls, jolts of blue power flooding their bodies. Within seconds they were all dead.
Blade stumbled back a few steps and shook her head, slowly, "Whoa. Head rush. Hell. That's something I haven't done in a few years too. Whew. Really takes it out of you."
Garth glanced at her, quickly. She could feel blood on her face, dripping down her neck, and her breathing was rough, harsh in her chest.
"How are you feeling?"
"I feel good, I feel strong, I feel powerful!"
"You feel a mess."
"What?"
"You look like you're bloody hysterical. It's the Will. Calm yourself down."
"I'm not hysterical, I'm free."
"Not yet we're not." He replied, nodding grimly in front of him.
More guards, coming down the stairs.
Blade shook her head, almost exasperatedly, and took out the pistol and fired. The shot hit one smack in the shoulder, but, apart from wheeling him back a little, it had no effect.
A frown passed over her features and she glanced down at the pistol in her hand, curiously, "Oh... this is a crap gun!"
The guy got to her and lashed out, catching her across the cheek, her own blood spilling out to mingle with the guards'. She let out a low growl and beat back his next swing, ferociously, countering another blade without so much as a second glance, taking on three opponents with her old fiercely fast pace. She dodged a sword that swung high over her head, yanking out the pistol and firing it into the nearest guard's face, taking him down immediately. A crap gun it may be, but few could survive a bullet to the forehead.
"Behind you!"
Blade caught the warning a second too late and the sword slashed down her back. She crumpled to the floor, pain slicing through her, but then forced herself back to her feet with a snarl. She turned round and threw out her hand, sending the offending guard flying back into the wall with a sickly crunch. She swung round, using the momentum to decapitate the last standing guard.
She let her sword hit the floor, and she doubled over, staying like that for a moment, catching her breath. Then she shook her head, wiped her blade clean on the dead man's jacket, and kept walking.
"Here we are."
Blade moved swiftly into the room, checking all inches of it, "Commandant? Sir?"
Garth raised an eyebrow, "Sir?"
She shot him a look and then kept moving, "No-one home. He was down with me at doc's about half an hour ago. Maybe he's still there."
"Doc's?"
"I cut open my own arm to make sure I remembered. Some of it's gone but I'll pick it up. I know I will." She glanced at him, "You told me I had a daughter. Rose Marie. Was I married?"
"Yes."
"What was his name?"
"I... I'm sorry, I don't know. You never said."
"Of course not. If I had married I wouldn't want anyone to know it. I'd have kept it secret. So no-one knew my children were the spawn of a Hero."
"What makes you so sure?"
She gave a small, grim smile, "'Cause I might not know them. But I know me." She paused for a moment, thinking, "What did they take."
"They took your family. You know that."
"Yes, I do. But... there's something else. I can feel it. Not just my family."
"Just your family?" he repeated, shrewdly.
She glanced at him. Then she looked away. Just her family... Avo. She hoped she got her memories back soon. Or this was going to be one eventful homecoming.
She looked around her for a second. Then back to him, "We aren't leaving, are we."
"No."
"Not until we see the Commandant."
"Yes." He glanced at her, and gave a small, slow nod, "I know what you're thinking, but it's not revenge I'm after. Revenge is just a... fortunate by-product. We're not leaving until the Commandant is dead."
She paused for a moment, and then nodded, slowly, "Good."
She felt his eyes on her and glanced at him, a smile playing around her lips. Well. At least she was honest.
She moved away, climbing the short flight of stairs up to the viewing platform. She glanced over, and then frowned, "Uh-oh..."
"What." He asked, immediately.
"Take a look."
The Will-user moved beside her, glancing over the edge. He swore under his breath, again in that strange, exotic language, "A new load of recruits is being brought in."
"Yep."
"The guards will be doubled in numbers."
She nodded at the boats docked, of which there were three, "That's our ticket outta here."
"Yes. Our only way off this thing."
"So we better make sure we can get past them." Her eyes moved over his weak frame. She paused, and then shook her head, "You don't look so good."
"I'll be fine when I absorb some Will."
She paused, and then took out her blade, lowering it to her palm, "You can have some of mine."
"No." He put a hand on hers, quickly, stopping her, "No." He repeated, quietly, "No, I'm not having that."
"I don't understand."
"I don't need to feed off you. And I don't want to."
She shook her head, impatiently, "Garth, this could help you survive."
"I can't sap your strength. It is better one powerful than two weak. Trust me." He looked at her, waited until she nodded, reluctantly, and then let his hand slip from hers, "The Commandant. He will suffice. When the Commandant has fallen I will regain my strength."
"Then you'll be waiting some time."
A bolt of lightning struck Garth straight in the back, throwing him to the floor. Blade spun around, drawing her sword easily, deftly. The face she saw didn't surprise her.
She raised her eyebrows, giving a small, sardonic smile, "Well. Speak of the devil."
The Commandant shook his head, slowly. Anger burned in his eyes at an intensity she had never seen before, an anger that would have usually make her shiver, but this time she met it with vicious satisfaction.
"You. I should have known you would betray me."
"Yep." She replied, casually, "Shouldn't really be all that surprised, should you."
He gave a low, angry snarl. Then he shook his head, "Lord Lucien will kill me for failing to keep order. But I am obedient. And so, before he does, I will eliminate you."
"Believe me, hybrid, Lord Lucien won't get a chance. But before you die - which, by the way, you're going to - you're gunna tell me something." Her smile faded, and her eyes became cold, "What did you take from me."
He raised an eyebrow, "Take from you?"
"You know what I mean. You know very well what I mean."
He paused, and then gave a small smile, "No."
"You won't tell me? Why."
"Because you disobeyed."
She gestured angrily at her neck, "The collar's off now, sir, all cards are on the table, so I'll give you one more chance, what did you take from me."
He just looked at her, and she nodded, slowly, "So be it. Let's get this over with."
"Indeed."
Lightning sparked from his hands, making one, big ring around them. She looked it over, cautiously, "Garth?"
"I'm fine."
"Good. Stay out of the circle."
And without another word she stepped into it.
The Commandant was fast. She'd never seen him fight someone before, not a proper battle, anyway. He was very fast. His Old Kingdom sword was brutal, augmented with all sorts of nasty little tricks, and it moved surprisingly quickly despite its apparent weight. The chipped blade was strong and cut deep, jagged slices into her flesh, sending fire in their wake.
Blade skipped back to avoid a fierce slash from his sword and then threw out a blast of Will to send him stumbling back, giving her enough time to heal her wounds. He was ferocious, a proper born fighter, and it was taking all she had just to stay on her feet.
The hastily drunk potion turned out to be pre-emptive, as the next slash cut her deep across her arm. She winced and stumbled back, cursing violently, holding a hand over the wound for a moment before realising that alone would not stop the bleeding. She didn't have time to take another potion, instead ducking his next swipe, countering the one after that. He threw out a hand and a wall of Will slammed into her, hacking deep into her legs, hurling her to the floor.
Pain spread quick and hot along her body, blood pumping out of an arterial wound. She fumbled with her jacket pocket, yanking out a potion and popping the cork. The Commandant lashed out with his sword, deftly forcing the small glass bottle out of her hand, smashing it into pieces on the floor. She shook her head, managing to prop herself up, frantically putting pressure on the deepest wound, the most dangerous, the one that would have her drained empty on the floor within a few minutes.
The Commandant paused for a moment, casually, watching her, knowing she wasn't going anywhere. Then he started towards her.
She tried to stand up but her legs would not move. The blood immediately seeped through the gaps in her fingers and she snarled, frustrated. It was odd, but she could feel hardly any pain. It was like something was numbing her slightly. She shook her head, trying to clear it, her heart beating painfully tight in her chest as the Commandant came closer.
He knelt down in front of her, and then took her hand, forcing it off of the wound. Blood spurted out again and she winced, fighting with his grip, trying to return her hand to the gash. He wouldn't let her.
She fought frantically but in vain, feeling something fall on her, dizziness, a strange weakness, feeling blood pour around her, sticky and hot. The sword slipped from Blade's hand and she let her head fall back, feeling it hit the hard concrete behind her, still yanking her hand, trying to get it free.
Then she stopped. And looked up into his eyes.
The Commandant looked at her. "This is what is bred from disobedience."
"No." She managed, her breathing rough, "This is what is bred from Lucien's madness."
"He wants to save this world."
"He wants to control this world. He won't stop... until he has complete control. You know this."
"A world under his control will be better. Will be perfect."
"Unrecognisable in its perfection, yeah, save me the brochure talk. I know what this world will really be."
"And what is that?"
She looked at him, "Slavery."
He gave a small smile, and nodded. Yes. That's what the world will be. Slavery."
She glanced down at her wound. The blood flow was beginning to slow. Instead of the fierce, heated pain she felt at first it was now just a dull, low throb, small shots of pain moving over her abdomen. She was feeling so very drowsy. That couldn't be good. Was this what it felt like? Dying?
Her eyes were slipping shut. She forced herself to concentrate. She looked at him, feeling his grip on her hand loosening as he too saw her weariness. "What did you take."
He glanced at her, looking almost surprised, "You really want to know?"
"Yes. What did you take."
He looked at her, "One word."
She shook her head again, weakly. She hadn't got long. "What word."
"I didn't even know what it meant. I don't think you did, not really. But it was ingrained in your senses. Even in your diary."
"My diary?"
"Yes, that little book you kept. Very clever of you. I don't even think you knew you were doing it. Did you?"
"Doing what."
"On every entry. A little picture on the top. A small doodle. Some people would have missed it."
"What was it."
He paused for a moment, watching her, and then gave her a small, twisted smile, "A sparrow."
Come on, little Sparrow! Wake up!
She shivered. She couldn't help herself. Sparrow.
Oh, Castle Fairfax looks so beautiful in the snow...
Rose. Oh Rose.
She noted with relief that the odd stabbing pains were getting less frequent. Either she was getting better or she was dying.
At the moment, either one suited her.
"What does it mean."
"Why."
Her hand went completely slack and he released it, putting it back down by her side. "Mild curiosity. What does it mean."
"It was... it was my name. Once. Long ago. Years ago."
"But you said..."
She shook her head, slowly. The room was going dark. She closed her eyes with a soft sigh, the warm sensation of her own blood pouring down her leg now a mere blur. It didn't matter. "I said my name... was Sparrow. I... I was a different person back then. Sometimes I had... doubts. But now... after all this time here... it's only made me... more sure."
"Sure of what?"
"That... my name... is Blade."
She took hold of her weapon and gave one swift strike. She caught the Commandant deep in the neck, slashing his throat wide open.
Blood immediately gushed from the wound, covering the Spire Guard uniform. The Commandant fell backwards, his hand automatically seizing his throat, blood pouring out in currents through his fingers. Blade's eyes followed him, watching as he put pressure on the wound that spurted the scarlet red blood, the free-flowing torrent of thick, slippery liquid that threatened to make even her sick, pushing his hand over the gaping slash, searching in vain for some way to close it. But it was a losing battle, and he knew it. His eyes locked onto hers, the yellow, predatory eyes that had haunted her for so many years. There was no sign of malice now, no vicious triumph. There was... nothing. And, before long, he joined her on the floor, completely still.
Blade's eyes slid shut, her hand loosened on the sword, her head fell back.
"Blade? Blade. Blade, look at me, now."
She moved her head slightly to one side. She distantly felt hands on her shoulders, shaking her, and then they moved away, rifling through her jacket.
"Blade, you saved my life, let me return the favour." She felt cold glass on her mouth, her bottom lip, pressing down, firmly, "Drink this. Now."
She managed to take a few sips. She felt the distinctly bitter-sweet taste of a health potion hit her tongue, and immediately took another sip, managing to raise her hand up to the bottle, pushing a little herself. She felt the gentle heat move across her, like sunlight, and strength slowly started to return to her. She could open her eyes. She could move her head. She could force out an arm, push herself upright. She could look at him.
Garth looked at her, cautiously, "How you feeling?"
She paused for a moment, considering an appropriate response, "Fantastic. Just fantastic. Seriously, this is one of the best moments of my life."
He managed to give a small, wry smile - the first genuine smile she'd ever seen from him - and then held out a hand, helping her to her feet, "Come on, up you get."
She struggled to her feet, allowing the help, leaning heavily on his shoulder. She looked him over while she was at it, "You're looking substantially bluer."
He glanced at his shoulders, at the intricate blue lines spreading across his skin, "Yes. I took it from the Commandant. I think it's safe to say you don't need to protect me anymore."
"Yeah. Looks like it." She looked at him for a second, seriously, "You look much better."
"Thank you. Now. Can you stand?"
She paused, looking down at herself. She was still clinging onto him, using his shoulders to support her weight. She took an experimental step backwards. The cuts along her leg had healed, completely.
She paused, testing her weight on her legs, and then nodded, "Uh-huh."
"Good. Then let's get moving."
He walked into the middle of the room and then threw out his hands, lightning flying out of them and striking a circular platform by the side. A blue pulse seemed to come up from it, like raw power, swirling round the base.
"We can use this Cullis Gate to reach the docks. Come on."
She looked at it for a second, "Cullis Gate. Right. I remember that. Good."
She started to move towards it, but then stopped. She looked back down. The Commandant's decrepit body still lay on the floor in a growing pool of blood. She paused, and then reached down, pulling the Old Kingdom sword from his belt with a swift tug.
She looked at him for a second, and then shook her head, "That was for Bob." She threw the Cutlass down on the floor beside him, and then turned, moving over to the Cullis Gate, not looking back.
