/=|= The Lost Raven =|=\
15
"A New Master"
"Oh shit," Tira said in disbelief, completely oblivious to the fact she said it and disobeyed her master's ultimatum that she only bark (but fortunately, Zas was too occupied to notice either.) A sword with an eyeball? Not like metal shaped into an eyeball, but an actually working eyeball with dilating pupils and an iris and blood vessels and eyelids!
It's real! Tira thought, feeling nothing but shock. No despair over its dark history and the implications of its future, no anxiety or desire for its power. Soul Edge is real! Just pure shock. Maybe other bedtime stories and boogeymen were real too?
A desperate cry broke Tira's concentration from the impossibility in front of her. The Egyptian went from gypsy to gypsy, savagely driving his scythe blade into their prone unconscious bodies. Sometimes they'd let out a pain filled ear-shattering shriek and descend into oblivion on the chorus of screams and agony, and others mercifully died instantly and quietly. It was a horrific sight regardless, one that made even Tira shudder. Sure, she killed people too, and yeah she could be brutal, and yes she punched the snot out of a little kid, but … but the people she killed deserved it (and that kid was just a brat who'd thank her later!) The people Tira took out were evil meanies who got what was coming to them! But these gypsies? They didn't deserve this.
(They didn't deserve Tira robbing them either, but that's beside the point. She didn't commit this atrocity!)
She glared at Zasalamel as he worked, as he ripped his scythe free and chunks of gore and blood splattered. She glared, and she hated him. "Just you wait, you bastard," she growled as he finished the last of the sacrifices and, satisfied with the ritual's direction, quickly departed without so much as a farewell, "I'll get you. All of my humiliation and their suffering will be a tickle next to what I'm gonna do to you. Just you wait …"
And the phenomenon of Soul Edge caught her attention again. The blood swirled in the waters, channeled to the sentient eye of Soul Edge. The helmet next to the sword twitched and wobbled, and then a from filled up the inside of it. Blood ran up into it and solidified, grew features, transformed into flesh before her very eyes.
"Oh shit," she repeated, eyes wide and mouth agape.
Blood flowed into the breastplate, the pauldrons, into the gauntlets, the fauld and boots. Dark lightning struck down upon the sword, and she heard an earth-shaking crack of thunder as a dark figure with a freakishly huge and misshapen arm emerged from the waters, donned in armor, with Soul Edge in his grasp. The Nightmare was reborn.
With burning eyes, Nightmare approached the motionless Tira and she gulped, terrified. He stood towering over her, gazing down into her eyes. The monstrosity raised up that oversized powerful arm as if to flatten her.
Frantic, she barely managed to cry out, "I am your slave!"
In the far distance, an echo of rumbling thunder.
It paused, but did not break its gaze nor did it lower its mutated hand.
"Command me as you see fit, master. I will obey your every whim." And slowly and carefully, Tira lowered herself to her hands and knees where she kissed the muddy boot. "I am your's, master."
A strange gurgling sound came from the monster, and Tira looked up, still shaking with uncertainty. Water and blood poured from the helmet, raining down on Tira, and the gurgling continued but slowly evolved into primitive grunts and coughs and then finally into a low dark evil and ominous voice. "Rise."
Timidly, Tira got back on her knees and waited, then eased herself up to her feet, her hands at her side, standing at attention looking straight forward.
A low guttural voice growled from the supernatural being in front of her, "I thirst for souls."
Tira nodded, and started to turn, but Nightmare caught her by the arm and turned her around. Then he grabbed her by the throat, and lifted Tira off the ground so her feet dangled in the air. Her hands still at her sides as he squeezed her windpipe and cut off her air and circulation. "I thirst for a Warrior's Soul. A strong soul—"
"Then you shall die of thirst," a powerful voice boomed.
Nightmare released his slave, and they both looked in the direction from whence the voice came. Out of the smoky haze stepped a man in an exotic armor Tira had never seen. Blonde hair. An eyepatch. And a curved blade unlike any she'd encountered before. "I am Arthur come to cleanse the plague of your existence."
"Does announcing yourself like that make you feel important?" Tira asked massaging her neck. A growl from her master made her gulp and look up.
Without moving, Nightmare stated, "bring him to me."
Tira closed her eyes and let out a long tired sigh. Five days of lying in that damn wagon, then she has to dodge lizards, swim, fetch her ring blade, then kill the lizards. Five more days of lying in that damn wagon, and today she's beaten up a little girl, thrown the brat and her guardian off a cliff, knocked out and dragged an entire caravan of gypsies all the way up here, and now she had another fight on her hands. Why couldn't fate ever spread out her activities?
But Tira nodded, picked up her ring blade, and forced herself to her feet feeling sluggish, working the muscles in her arm as her weapon hung over her shoulder. Once she got her adrenaline going, she'd be okay. With caution, she approached the warrior named Arthur, but … but that was nifty armor. And a curved sword? That was pretty cool too. Not as cool as her ring blade, but cool none-the-less. "Where did you get that armor and sword?"
He swung for Tira's head, and Tira's eyes went wide and she froze up. But her battle instincts took over at the very last second, and she managed to safely bat it away with her ring blade. Thank goodness, he didn't follow it up. He'd of killed her easily (and he visibly cursed himself for not doing so.) He lunged again, and she defended again with only slightly improved reaction time. But once again he didn't follow up. Testing her.
"You know, it's really rude to ignore—"
And now he swiped low to cut her legs off at the shin, and Tira just barely hopped back, landing ungracefully on her bottom (with a splash) before scrambling to her feet, awaiting a follow up that never came. Seriously, when was this guy going to quit testing her?
"You're starting to piss me off." Tira said, planting a hand on her sexy hip, "just answer the question so I can kill you."
The man let loose a battle cry and raced for Tira with a mighty swing of his katana, one mighty enough to cleave her thin figure in two diagonally from shoulder to hip. But alas, he waited too long, for now her adrenaline flowed, now her eyes foresaw the attack, and her mind set her body in motion. As his blade came down, she spun out of the Japanese sword's path and mid-twirl hooked her ring-blade around his throat. But not against the blade. Oh no. She could have cut him in two had she wanted, but no. She hooked the inner portion of the ring around his throat, hopped up, and planted her feet on the back of his head. Together, they came crashing down (and mud and water went flying up). His hands instinctively went to the object choking him, and the deadly edge of the ring blade nearly cut his hands off. He'd of unleashed a scream, but now Tira stood atop him, her weight bearing down upon him, pressing his throat against the safe edge of the ring blade, choking him and simultaneously forcing his face into the puddle to drown him.
One way or another, Arthur would not be breathing.
"You know, it's funny how things work out. You being cautious when I'm feeling clumsy." She rocked back and forth, grinding her weapon's blade against the bones of his hands, digging them deeper and slowly sawing through them. She felt him squirm beneath her feet, but she kept her balance. "Then you get aggressive right as I get my act together. Those tests didn't get you anywhere, did they?"
Arthur grit his teeth, trying to keep his agony in check. He jerked suddenly from side to side, fighting with his fleeting strength, but Tira stayed atop him, kept her foot planted firmly against the back of his head, and kept him deprived of oxygen.
"I've always sucked at tests, anyway" Tira lamented. "Sometimes I test my opponent, but that takes patience and I have no patience. I get bored easily. It'll get me killed one day, I know, but I can't help it, and—oh goodie! You're asleep!" She hopped up, and brought both feet down on the back of Arthur's head, smashing his face into stones beneath the water and mud, then she slid her weapon out from under him, but her perkiness melted when her master just stared at her.
She sighed, tossing the ring blade into the waters with a splash, slipping her arms under the unconscious man, she pulled him to his feet, locking his arms behind his back. Then she slowly dragged his heavy butt over to Nightmare.
"Your prey, my Lord," she said with a bow of her head.
Writer's Note:
For this story, I imagine Tira looking like my version of her from SCIV's editor. Link to My Tira pictures located in my profile. (I would link here, but won't let me for some reason.)