Author's Note: Hey I know it has been a really long time since my last update and I will try my best to keep them coming in more frequent intervals. I re-wrote chapter seven and it now has a different ending to transition into this chapter, so if you haven't' yet, I would ask you to take a look at it again. Thanks for all the help thus far with each entry. Still have a good ways to go left with this story.
The Goddess
Miria's awestruck mind tried to rationalize the figure before. She tried to reason within herself what exactly she was looking at. Not much could be discerned from the being standing before her as the intense light continued to shine from within it. Its human form remained for the most part intact. It was not a grotesque and twisted awakened being. Divine, angelic, Miria thought, it was the only thing befitting.
The eyes displayed a hue of blue light around them. The ears, lips, nose, and neck remained the same. Her once short hair now lingered to her lower back, waving as it reached its length. The rest of Clare's naked figure was cloaked in her overwhelming luminosity that masked the majority of her body. She had not grown beyond her normal size, maybe inches at the most. Other than her luminosity, Clare's appearance remained the same, which was disarming. But Miria, and everyone else, had doubts that this new version of Clare was as serene and tranquil as she appeared.
A chill coiled its way along Miria's spine as her mind made the connection to the image before her. She had seen this woman, this being before. In fact she had seen her monuments and altars all over the region. There was no mistaking it. Miria was kneeling before Clare, one the of the twin Goddess of Love. She was kneeling on holy ground.
Just as she made this realization a powerful shockwave rippled from within Clare as she slowly stood to her feet. It was like watching a slow and unavoidable death as she carefully looked around her. They all stood frozen with fear as Clare's eyes met each of their own. Helen felt her blood run cold as the goddess looked upon her.
Clare's gaze finally arrived at the man lying in his own blood. It was an unsettling and strange moment as everyone cautiously observed her kneel down next to the lifeless young man. She carefully placed one hand over his eyes closing them gently, while the other tightly gripped the sword buried inside his body.
In a quick and deliberate motion the blade was pulled free from the corpse making Raki's body twitch in reaction. Clare's head flinched slightly as it was evident that this act was still painful to her no matter what state she was in. Ermita took another step back as he realized that the former number forty-seven did in fact still remember herself. The awakening had not fractured her mind.
A bead of sweat trickled down Raftela's brow as she knew she had opened the door to all of Clare's pain. And now the goddess would return the favor in kind. Even though she knew her life was about to end Raftela still remained frozen. It was a morbid curiosity she had to indulge as she watched Clare take up the sword she had used to kill Raki. And just as her body had awakened the sword too, began to glow with a pure white light, equal in intensity. It was as if the brand had caught fire as waves of heat flickered and danced around the entire weapon.
To say what happened to Raftela as unfair would be completely accurate, she had no chance. With Clare's back to her, the number ten noticed the goddess's neck slowly crane around to spot her standing there in the window. Raftela exhaled slowly as she closed her eyes, resigning herself to her fate. Even if her eyes were open it would not had made any difference. She wouldn't have been able to see the strike before it killed her
Miria saw the quick transformation from mourning to hatred upon the goddess before her. In one moment she had said farewell to the one she loved and in the next, began a path to vengeance. She, and anyone else for that matter, had never witnessed a power so great and so incredibly fast before. In the tiniest measure of a moment Clare quickly twisted her wrist facing the sword edgewise at Raftela and swung.
First the heat wave arrived, Clare's swing was so furious that the air in front of her blade accelerated, causing an immense wave of pressure. This searing wave began to cook, burn, and vaporize the building as it pushed its way towards Raftela. She felt her hair and skin being set ablaze as it slammed into her. She didn't scream in pain, she was unable to as the very air she drew in combusted, scorching her lungs. The flaming wood of the building then exploded into splinters sending embers in every direction. And the stone and glass turned into fine powder as the shock wave chased close behind, rupturing and tearing through anything that remained. This left the entire building and all its occupants in burning shambles. And lastly sound finally caught up, roaring over the destruction, crowning it with the proper terror it deserved. No one watching had the ability to perceive this sequence of obliteration, to all it was instantaneous.
Everyone cowered, shielding their eyes and ears from the explosive destruction Clare had so effortlessly placed upon the former Claymore. Satisfied with her results the goddess simply turned around to see her friends on their knees, guarding themselves from falling debris.
Deneve's luck had run out, she was standing in the wrong place at the wrong time. Dozens of burning stakes and splinters of wood had pierced completely through her body. Some were small enough to be used as kindle for a fire, while others were large enough to be used for practicing swordplay. The blast itself and the numerous impacts of each stake had blown her clear across the street leaving a small crater as she slammed into another building.
Deneve had no idea what had hit her, she lazily opened her eyes to see herself slumped against the building she crashed into. The taste of bark, gravel, and blood filled her mouth as she cut her eyes left and right, wondering how she ended up on the other side of the highway. A quick self check alerted her that something was seriously wrong. She couldn't look down to see her legs, something was blocking her chin. And then it became grimly obvious that a large stake had ripped through her throat, severing her jugular. Deneve tried to swear but nothing uttered from her lips, and that's when she became a little concerned. Any flesh wound like this, or even severed limbs were no problem for her. She had nearly perfected her ability to regenerate even the most severe and life threatening injuries. But this particular projectile had found its way through her vertebrae. The stake had nearly severed all the nerve fibers and completely shattered each interlocking segment of her spinal column. She tried to focus and regenerate her flesh around the shrapnel but nothing was happening. Deneve hadn't fully realized it yet, but that stake had nearly decapitated her. In fact it was the only thing keeping her head from rolling off her shoulders.
"Deneve!" Helen screamed as she blitzed across the street to aid her comrade.
Helen suddenly stopped just a step short of her friend's slouched body. Her lips quivered as tears began to flow earthward from her cheeks. Too afraid to touch her fragile and dire state, Helen simply fell to her knees. Deneve's consciousness flickered like a weak flame against a steady breeze as blood profusely poured from her injured neck. All the former number fifteen could do was to try to regenerate enough blood to keep her brain from being starved of oxygen.
Another chill shot down Helen's back as her shadow appeared on the building in front of her. It bobbed and swayed as if the light source was moving with the rhythm of a walk. She slowly closed her eyes preparing for the final blow that would send her and her dear friend to the next life. Seconds crawled by, and still nothing.
Then a powerful but gentle weight settled upon her shoulder. She could feel the immense yoki radiating from Clare's touch as the goddess slowly walked by. She too knelt down next to the dying Claymore, carefully placing her hands around the stake and Deneve's tattered throat. The dying warrior's eyes lifted heavily as her strength was all but exhausted. And in a savage but delicate motion Clare wrenched the shrapnel free from the Claymore's neck. A few terrified gasps from everyone watching, but that was the worst of it. A quick flash of light and suddenly a familiar scream began to climb and reverberate throughout the streets as Deneve's vocal box slowly regenerated. And just as effortlessly as she had taken life, Clare gave it back.
Ermita was awestruck by this raw and unrivaled power. Nothing in the history of the organization had even come close to this magnitude. But he could not stand around and admire her power, he knew he was next. The cloaked man turned to see his best route of escape when another opportunity presented itself. The old man spotted a little brunette girl in tow with another Claymore walking eastward right towards them. What was she doing here? It didn't matter much to him, but she would provide a good distraction. It was going to be very difficult being right in the middle of those two. He had to risk it. Ermita quickly grabbed Raki's body and slung him over his shoulders. Deneve's screams had stopped and he could here the shuffle of their feet as her friends help her up.
"You will not survive me." A voice that carried an inhuman authority bellowed from behind him.
A bead of sweat trickled down Ermita's brow as he lowered his body and placed a balled fist on the ground before him ready to blast forward with all the speed he possessed.
"You won't get far." The voice assured with another mighty roar.
He knew that was true, maybe ten seconds or at the most twenty and she would catch up to him. But it was all that he needed, and without pause of hesitation Ermita sprinted with incredible speed down the street, heading directly for the little girl. The rush of the wind deafened all other sounds but he knew all too well that Clare was giving chase. The many markets that lined the streets zipped by as he continued to accelerate faster and faster hoping to delay his capture. The structures became smaller and smaller as he neared the residential district of Rabona. He was almost there, but one slight mistake, one miscalculation and he would slam right into her and find himself in the middle of the fray. His timing had to be perfect.
"Alyssa, I think it is time for you to go." The small child looked up at the novice Claymore hoping to spare her.
The last few days they had spent together had been very strange to say the least. The thought of killing the warrior had crossed her mind several times throughout their little adventure to the city. But something always seemed to diffuse those pleasures. Maybe it was her eyes? No, they were silver just like all the others, so what was different.
It was uncomfortably easy to fool her. Which is why the little girl had entertained the thought of killing her. Just a few screams of help and a heart breaking story was all that was required to recruit the young claymore's aid. Something along the lines of being abandon for a couple of days in that terrible and darkened fortress and her family heading towards Rabona. She had no idea of the wolf the she was traveling with.
Maybe it was the fact of Alyssa's bliss that appealed to the little girl or perhaps her sincerity. They both knew the rules of aiding humans but this Claymore seemed to go completely out of the way to aid others. But all that was probably going to change once she saw the little girl as the abyssal one of the West. That betrayal of Alyssa's trust was sure to make the Claymore angry, but what was she going to do?
A confused look etched across Alyssa's face as they both made their way down the street. "What are you talking about, this place is too dangerous," She paused as she looked around for anyone to help her. "You are not safe with me anymore, you see that smoke just on the other side of the city." The Claymore pointed to large grey pillar rising in the sky.
Just as her arm had fully extended towards the billowing smoke a powerful and blunt force slammed into her side, sending the warrior to the far side of the street. Clouds of dust entered her lungs choking Alyssa as she quickly stood to her feet. Her daze was short lived and with her bearings now in order she saw a multitude of tendrils snake their way back into the small child's arm.
"Riful." She breathed lowly, instantly recognizing the abyssal one of the west. She swore at herself for being fooled by such a creature. She had failed at her very purpose, but now was her opportunity to reconcile for the mistake she had so blindly made. With all the courage she could muster Alyssa raised her blade, ready to strike the awakened being. Something was off though, the little girl was not paying her any attention. In a moment of hesitation Alyssa cut her eyes in the direction of Riful's gaze. Two figures raced down the street leaving a rising trail of dust and debris in their wake, heading directly towards them. But before she could even shift her stance to the new approaching threat the first figure blitzed by, slashing at Riful as it passed. Almost instantly Riful revealed her grotesque form and caught the would be assailant by the ankle with several of her tendrils.
The figure disappeared behind a cloud of dust as it was slammed into the ground. Riful smiled diabolically as she turned to see the satisfying crash, but that came to sudden halt as she sensed the immeasurable Yoki presence just behind her.
The abyssal one of the West had become very adept at determining whether or not someone possessed enough power to join her ranks. She had spent a considerable amount of time doing so to raise her army against her opponents. But what she felt, standing only a mere step or two behind her was, at the very least disconcerting.
The human-like bundle of tendrils released her grip on Ermita as she turned to face her enemy. The difference in height was considerable between the two. Riful slowly snaked her upper body closer to the ground staring curiously at the glowing being before her. Their eyes met and the abyssal one quickly peered through Clare's luminous cloak and saw the former forty-seven in state she never thought possible.
"Welcome to the club, glad you finally woke up." Riful teased with an evil chuckle.
"Those two belong to me," Clare stated plainly as she pointed beyond Riful. "One to kill and one to bury."
Riful craned her head back to Ermita who was on his feet again, but before he could hope to escape another dozen tendrils raced towards him squeezing him tightly. "I guess that means you have no intentions of burying the old man?" Riful asked sarcastically.
"I will let the birds and the beasts rip apart his corpse after I am finished with him." Clare stated sternly.
"I won't argue with you on that," The abyssal one smiled as she turned back towards Clare. "But I cannot have you jeopardizing my position either. One day, sooner or later, you and I will have to be at odds, there is no other outcome."
Clare raised her head slightly allowing her gaze to pierce into whatever soul was left of Riful. "You spared me once before, I have not forgotten it. I return that grace in kind to you now...please go. I have no quarrel with you and I will not ask again."
"So naive." The tentacled monster simply chuckled in defiance.