6. Thoughts, Instinct
At least now Jirall had an idea of what was going on.
Arganan became 'Mitra's Bride,' a concept that even Arganan himself apparently didn't have much of an idea of how it worked, and everyone that was dead was now alive again.
Including Zangurak, who gave him the sword that took away his sanity (he shivered at that).
Well damn. He hadn't expected that.
"Jirall?" Calista's voice brought him back, and he looked up at her. She was still concerned. "Are you okay?"
Jirall nodded quickly, too quickly. "Yes." He managed. "I'm fine."
Before she could respond, the bang of the door opening resoudned through the room and both of them turned to see who it was.
Zangurak simply smiled slightly as he stood in the doorway. And it was not a good smile, either.
Calista stood, standing and beginning to activate her Holy magic. "Zangurak..."
Zangurak chuckled slightly, walking closer to them.
"Hello."
"This way!"
Arganan could feel it, feel the dark mirth oh that's Calista Arganan and Jirall I'll have fun with them while retrieving my weapon from Zangurak. It felt odd that he could sense Zangurak in such a way, but he could feel the same with Dagran (I have to stop him!) and Asthar (battle plan, think, dealing with one-armed Gurak currently unarmed, any non-violent means...?).
He could even sense Jirall (What the hell!?) and Zael right now (I feel like something is wrong, I...).
Was this another one of his abilities as Mitra's Bride? Being able to hear the thoughts of others that were once dead?
He stopped in his tracks, still trying to think, and Asthar's voice brought him back to reality.
"Are you alright, Count Arganan?"
Arganan nodded quickly, looking up to face him. "I'll be fine, Asthar. Go ahead of me—I'll catch up."
Asthar nodded, before leaving. Arganan felt the mark on his chest warm up again, start glowing, and he knew that he couldn't just ignore it. His gut instinct told him to go to the armory. He didn't know why, but it just did.
Was Mitra perhaps trying to communicate with him through his mind...? Perhaps.
Arganan decided to take a risk and run to the armory.
Zangurak ducked as Calista shot a Holy spell at him, before he lunged forwards and grabbed her by the throat. She gasped, her hands reaching for him, flailing wildly, but he simply pressed harder on her throat. Even with one arm, he still retained some of his physical strength. Maybe he could work this to his advantage.
Looking to Jirall, he smirked as he saw the former heir of Rambaldt glaring at him.
"L-let her go," Jirall sputtered, grabbing a chair and holding it up to use as some pathetic makeshift weapon. "I-I mean it."
Zangurak simply responded to that by throwing Calista at Jirall, the two colliding into each other, Jirall staggering backwards against the wall and slumping into a sitting position, dropping the chair as he groaned painfully. The former King of the Gurak chuckled slightly, approaching Jirall's bed and reaching underneath it, finding none other than his Zan Lance.
Zangurak took a quick moment to examine his weapon. It was in decent shape, though he would have to sharpen the points later to make sure it was still lethal enough to subdue his foes. For now, though, it would still be helpful. He pointed his Lance at them, glaring. "Surrender," He demanded, "now. If you do not I will use what power I still have to at least terribly injure one of you, and I doubt you'd want that."
"Not so fast," a voice responded, and the former King of the Gurak growled as he faced Asthar, recognizing his voice. The once-deceased Genreal had a hard look on his face as he took out his sword and pointed it at him. "Zangurak, I would request that you drop your weapon immediately. Refusal to do that will result in most likely injuries on your part."
Zangurak looked to Jirall, attended to by Calista with healing magic, and then to Asthar. They were in tight quarters—which led to his disadvantage. And then there was the window...
Taking a chance, he rushed to the window, swiping at it with his lance. With a shatter of glass, he climbed through the window frame, hoping the enemy would be lured out.
Arganan rushed down the hall, a crossbow in hand (he grabbed it from the armory).
Shoot his arm shoot his arm shoot his arm
Battle plans shook in his head, but he barely understood any of them. Shoot whose arm exactly, even?
He went to the courtyard, finding none other than Asthar and Zangurak on the roof, lance versus sword, one on one.
And his instincts yelled at him to shoot him in the arm
Shoot Zangurak in the arm. Disarm do not kill.
Arganan growled slightly under his breath, holding up the crossbow as well as he could after putting an arrow in it. He'd never been good with crossbows when it came to military training from long ago, never could hold up these things too well. It was easier to swing a sword than take aim and fire at something.
What if he missed? What if he hit Asthar instead of Zangurak? What if he hit somewhere vital?
And despite all these worries, these little screams rousing his head, one thought roared above it all.
Shoot Zangurak in the arm.
NOW.
And he fired.
Calista heard Zangurak scream, and she looked up from tending to the unconscious Jirall to see an arrow sticking out of Zangurak's only arm. The former King of the Gurak winced, arm trembling as he dropped the lance. Asthar lunged forwards, hitting his head with the handle of his sword, and the King of the Gurak was out in a heartbeat.
The Countess of Lazulis looked to Jirall quickly (he would be fine, just knocked out) before she rushed to the window. "G-General Asthar!? Are you alright!?"
Asthar looked to her, then Zangurak. "I am fine, Lady Calista. As for Zangurak, he's currently out. What about you?"
Calista let a relieved sigh escape her. Zangurak was out for now, thank goodness. "I-I'm fine, Asthar." She climbed through the window, walking close to the edge of the roof (but not standing too close out of fear of falling) to see her uncle, holding the crossbow. "Uncle...thank you," She managed, the wind getting into her hair and pathetically trying to block her sight of him.
Her uncle looked more surprised that he actually hit Zangurak, the mark on his chest glowing, but he managed to compose himself. "I'm just glad you're safe." He managed.
Asthar nodded, looking to Arganan. "I'll bring Zangurak to the hospital wing. And inform Lord Zesha and his brother Zepha about this. I think it might be good for them to talk to their first king, and their presence will help calm Zangurak, hopefully."
Arganan nodded. "Go ahead and do so." He looked down at the crossbow he held (and also to his glowing mark), then to Calista. "What about Jirall? Is he alright? I couldn't sense his thoughts anymore after I got the crossbow."
Calista stared at him. "Yes, he's alright, he got knocked out—wait." She had to process that information for a moment. "You can sense the thoughts of others?"
Her uncle nodded. "Yes. Apparently I can. Though I guess I cannot once they fall unconscious, though. I can't sense what Zangurak is feeling at the moment, either."
The Countess of Calista nodded, thinking. Perhaps the role of Mitra's Bride contained more power than she thought. Maybe it wasn't just a punishment for her uncle's actions, that it could be something more.
What in the world did her uncle's role of Mitra's Bride truly mean?