Kid lay in his bed, the world he had once felt so comfortable in now foreign to him.
He had found something in the open air of the journey he had taken, there was something to be missed about being sprawled out under the stars, soft grass tickling skin. The silk of his sheets felt too soft now, and the noises of the castle that once had him lulled to sleep now kept him up, each step taken by a maid or each bellowing laugh from a sentry drove his anxiety up. Perhaps he had never meant to be a Prince, he had proven himself shit at it.
Sorrow bubbled up from the anxiety, and he brought a hand over his heart. His father would've been able to help him with these feelings, while the King had always seemed a stoic man, he really was anything but. Practical jokes and puns were his honest weapon of choice, and he had taken so much care with Kid in his childhood, spending as much time with him as possible. He hadn't even been able to say goodbye to his father, and he was sure a funeral would begin the following day.
The Prince took in a deep breath, pulling up his sleeve to stare at the Rune the Forest had given him. Where the Spirit had been selfless and kind, his mother had been murderous. In the hollow pit of his conscious, he knew that Blake was right, his mother had used him for her own vile means, leaving him out of the plan intentionally, so that he would be able to give the Forest the truth. Her casual use of him as a pawn left a bitter taste in his mouth, though he unsure how to proceed from this point.
There was a spike of pain in his head, and he sat up, palm of his hand pressed against one of his eyes. This pain had been dancing along his vision since he had returned, and he had already searched out a few remedies for it, though none had stopped the pain. He could go ask his aunt, but he feared what he would find of Soul up in her tower.
You are so pathetic. How can you just sit there and let her get away with this!?
Gods he wished Blake would just leave him alone. He could still hear the barbed words rattled around in his head, and Kid feared they would never leave him. There was truth in his words, of course. He should try and stop this, but he was only one man, a second son, he had no power, no pull, and no one in the kingdom would give him the time of day unless Asura told them to.
Asura! He could try to ask his brother! There was always a chance that he would be willing to help his little brother, though they didn't have an amazing relationship, he was sure his brother cared for him some, maybe just enough to help his mother change her mind. It was a better plan than no plan, and he lept to his feet, trying to ignore the swimming in his vision.
The Prince left the safety of his room, walking down the hall as he listened to the chatter around him, trying to pinpoint where his brother might be. He passed a window, expecting the late evening sun to blind him as he passed, but the light was muted, and tinted red. His eyes scanned the horizon, where a thick wall of black smoke floated into the air. Flashes of flames danced along the horizon, where one of the trading villages resided. Kid felt his jaw drop, realizing someone was attacking a village so close without the alarm having been raised.
A heavy hand rested on his shoulder, and he jumped, looking up to see his brother, eyes on the horizon. "I was just coming to find you. It seems we have some trouble headed our way."
"Who?"
"Dwellers. Moving faster than originally anticipated. They've left a trail of fire and destruction behind them."
"Because we attacked first!" Kid looked up at his brother, surprised by the hard look of his eyes.
"I am to be named King tomorrow. I can't allow the eve of my coronation to be marred by weakness. Not before I take this throne. Tonight, we fight for our home. Tomorrow we welcome in a new age. Join us, little brother, for there is no other path to take."
Kid didn't realize he was clenching his teeth until he heard the pop, and he glared up at Asura. His brother only lifted an eyebrow, taking his hand from Kid's shoulder.
"We fight tonight, and tomorrow, come speak to your King. I understand your desires are different than mothers, and you can give me your piece. Will that be satisfactory?"
Kid sighed, nodding at his brother. That would be better than anything he would get from his mother, so he would have to take it. He followed his brother down to the armory, where the knights were donning armor and several altars around the room had candles lit and the men prayed to the Gods they trusted to guide them through the night ahead.
The sun hadn't even set, and Kid could swear he already tasted blood in the air. There wasn't much to be grateful for in that moment, except perhaps that his friends (whether they hated him or not) were at least safe in their cells for the night.
"Again!"
Blake listened as the wolf, who called himself Free, howled, attacking the bars of his cell once more. The wolf had easily escaped his own prison by slamming into the bars a few times over. When Blake had asked why he hadn't done that before, his new companion explained that his wife, that swamp witch, was punished when he made any attempt to free them.
It made Blake hate the Queen that much more.
Free snarled, taking another dive at the bars locking Black away, and was met with the groaning of metal as a few of the bars finally gave way, the top half of the other man flying into Blake's cell. The Star Clan survivor cheered, tapping the wolf on his cheek. "Nicely done, good sir. You did well."
Free grinned, jaw of massive teeth glinting as he pulled himself out of the hole, and helped Blake crawl out as well. He took a long second to breathe, and push the thoughts of that cage away from his mind. Free smacked him on the back, nearly knocking him over. "We free, now what?"
"Now, we find Maka, then we get Soul, and assuming we're still alive, we get the Hell out of here."
"What about your mate?"
"He's not my-" Blake stopped himself, frown growing deeper on his face. Fuck, he knew they should just leave, but it felt wrong to not even say goodbye to him, angry as he still was. But, that was unnecessary danger, and Soul would probably be in an ass of shape, and Maka wouldn't let them hang back at all. "He made his choice, didn't you hear him?"
"I heard man try and reconcile with you."
"Can we just focus on escaping? Please?" Blake spat, crossing his arms over his chest. "Can you still smell Maka?"
Free gave him a look, but stuck his nose in the air, taking a deep breath. "...How many Dweller come now?"
"What?"
"Smell many Dwellers, come." Free and Blake snuck through the dungeons quietly, not wanting to bring attention to themselves. They might as well have been invisible though, their fellow prisoners were in various states of disconnect, some of them had the shine of fresh blood of torture on their skin, others had blank eyes that had long abandoned their bodies to the darkness. Rage sparked in Blake's chest again, and he tried to keep his eyes forward, to focus only on freedom.
Free lead him up old stone stairs, where the light from behind the castle door blinding in itself. The door creaked open slowly, both men ready for a fight, but they found no guard waiting for them. Free sniffed around a moment, then covered his nose. "Gah! Smell like smoke."
"Smoke?" Blake glanced down the hallway, and ventured towards one of the windows. They were still underground enough that most of what Blake saw was grass, but he could see the billowing smoke on the horizon, and his stomach fell. "Shit!"
"They come, don't they?" Free asked, worried look drawn on his face. "Need revenge?"
"...Yeah, it has to be them. The Dwellers are marching on the castle."
"We have to leave."
"...Aye. And soon. We don't have much daylight left. Our best chance is slipping away into the darkness."
Free nodded, sticking his nose back into the air. "I can smell Eruka. But still far up in castle."
Blake nodded, rubbing his temples as he tried to formulate a plan. "The castle is about to be in chaos, which is decently good for us. But we also run a risk of being caught in the crossfire."
"And of Queen seeing us."
"Shit shit shit." Blake hissed, pacing back and forth as the tried to come up with a plan. "We have to hide in plain sight, so who can do that in a castle."
"Servant." Free answered, wicked grin on his face. Blake scoffed, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Aye, looks like we're back where we started huh?"
"Come little man," Free grinned, smacking Blake's back with his massive hand again. "Let's go steal some uniforms."
His blood was starting to taste black.
Soul wasn't afraid of pain, and the Snake Bitch that has tormented his sister seemed to share his sentiment. She delivered blow after blow like it was the only joy in her pathetic life, but he was able to hold himself against her.
Pain is a trigger, and a common one His father had told him and Wes that when they were young, and powers were starting to manifest. But pain is temporary, a Demon's hold may not be. The words had been driven into Soul's mind, carved in as law from his father. Hell Children were tricky beasts, and if Soul gave into pain, the Demon in his blood could take over.
Wes had given in, he knew that much from the Witch and the black stain on her table. But Wes has always had a better hold on herself than Soul, and he wasn't sure he would be able to push his back down. So he held on, through every cut, prick and slash, and it was enraging his torturer.
"You are a resilient little cockroach aren't you?" Medusa hissed, throwing a knife on her tray in anger. Soul forced himself to bare bloody teeth at her, though his body shook.
"You don't scare me."
"I don't mean to scare you, I mean to break you." She hissed, her face near his as she searched his eyes for any black bleeding into red irises. He spat his blood in her face, and she drew back, horrified look on her face. "My, I almost prefer your sister."
"Most people say that." He answered, satisfied with the small victory he had won. Medusa looked as though she meant to strike him, but she was stopped by the sound of her door creaking open at the bottom of the stairs. Quietly, the Swamp Witch from their journey hobbled up the stairs slowly. Her face was pale still, though her eyes looked as though they had more life in them from before.
That would make Maka happy, Soul thought, to know she was getting better. Medusa blinked at her once, annoyed look on her face. "What?"
"I am to give this to you." She whispered, rolled parchment offered out to Medusa. She snatched it from her, frown on her face as she scanned the words. A wicked smile spread on her face, and she looked over at Soul.
"Well, well. There has been a change of plans, little creature."
"You're welcome to just go right ahead and fuck yourself."
"Tomorrow will mark the dawn of a new age in this kingdom, where Asura stands as King, and as celebration, they're going to hang your sister and your little Dweller at dawn."
Fear trickled down his spine, and Soul fought damn hard to keep his face straight as the words registered in his head. No, not them. They couldn't have come all this way to still have it end this way. He couldn't let his sister swing from a rope, he couldn't let Maka die like that. They were too good for that end, and their freedom mean more to him than anything. He was quickly running out of options, and his fingers shook as he clenched them into fists around the knives in his hands.
"What? You aren't worried for sister dearest? Hm? She's going to hang with the King's death on her conscious. And your Dweller? Well, she either hangs or she's given to the Crown Prince as a coronation gift." Medusa's gleeful smile would haunt his dreams, he was sure of it. Panic bubbled up in his chest, and he tried damn hard to keep his composure.
"Mistress." The witch whispered, eyes locked on the ground. "The Queen calls for your assistance."
"Oh very well pet," Medusa sighed as though this news was detrimental to her day. "Stay here and keep an eye on the little creature. He seems tricky."
Medusa took her leave, and Soul felt his composure cracking though his panic. Wes was going to die, regardless of what he did. And Maka-fuck Maka was going to wish she was dead, and he was fucking trapped in a snare.
We can get out.
The voice in his head was tempting, after all, what was the point of that bastard poisoning his every move if he didn't make himself useful every now and then. The creature hacked a laugh at that, pushing against Soul's consciousness.
We can pull that knife out no problem. We can keep it from hurting, you just have to let me.
No, he wasn't going to do that. He couldn't guarantee that the Demon would let him go after that. He had very little practice even interacting with his Demon, let alone overpowering it. Wes told him she'd spoken to hers a couple times, when she pushed her sight too far, or when she wasn't paying attention and it's hand would try and take over, but aside from a few whispers every now and then, Soul hadn't spoken to that damn thing at all. Now it almost had its own voice, getting louder and louder.
You will never get out on your own. The pain will leave you heaving on the floor. I can get you out. I can free us.
But he wouldn't give his body back, not without a fight, and Soul didn't have that kind of fight in him.
They need us. That girl needs us.
Damn that beast, it was true. There was nothing he could fucking do pinned to the table like a damned butterfly. Maka had a fighting chance, and so did Wes, but their enemy was different this time. And the price of failure was steeper than it had ever been.
If they're going to die anyways, do you even want to live?
The question stilled his breathing, and he truly thought about it. Even if he did escape, but he couldn't save them, would he be able to face himself? Could he tell his parents he couldn't save Wes? Would Maka ever stop haunting him? Could he live with himself tomorrow if all he did was wait here for the rope to wrap around their necks?
Come now, kid. You already know the answer to that. Stop fighting me and start working with me.
He might not get his body back, but with all things considered, that might not be the worst thing. Soul took a deep breath, sure to keep his mind on his sister, and he lowered his guard, letting himself feel the pain he had pushed away, the desperation he had silenced came screaming from the depths of his soul, and the hand Wes had described to him once grabbed the back of his neck.
"This is still my body." He spoke aloud, catching the attention of the frail witch.
She tilted her head, glancing at him curiously. A laugh bubbled up from his chest, though the voice in his throat sounded as though it was drowned, or speaking through something that muffled him. Without warning, he ripped up one of his arms, taking the knife in his palm with him. Black oozed from the wound as he wrapped his teeth around the hilt and pulled it from his palm.
The Witch looked as though she might scream, but he never gave her the chance. The knife that had been in his teeth was now embedded into the wall by her head. Her hair had barely moved with the breeze, but she froze, fear keeping her silent. With a tug, the chains holding him down snapped, and his good arm was freed. "Damn kids," the Demon muttered to himself. "Taking shit care of the things they're lucky to have."
He pulled the other knife out of his wounded hand, putting that one back in his teeth. His blackened blood pumped from the wound, but slowed as he flexed his fist. He took the knife from his mouth and flipped it between his fingers. "You're welcome, brat. Stay quiet and I'll even fix your arm."
With another tug, the chains keeping him pinned snapped, and he freed his feet as well. The Demon hopped off the table, and looked at the terrified Witch in the corner. She flinched at his gaze, and he grinned at her, teeth stained red and black. He was sure his eyes were black now, and he winked at her. "Don't worry, I don't have any reason to be upset with you, though I would suggest getting the fuck out of this castle."
He didn't even have time to take a breath before she was diving for the stairs, leaving him behind her. He shrugged, testing out the movement of his body, nearly giddy to be free after so long. Though, he found it to be marred rather badly, and worn out from the events of the last several months. "Well they sure kicked your ass, didn't they kid. Well let's go. We could use some good old fashioned revenge, couldn't we?"
The knife was sharp, but better suited for slicing open a corpse than a fight, but he would take what he could get. Besides, the blood in his veins would probably take an hour or two to heal that busted arm. So knife it was, bow could wait. After all, he had all the time in the world right now. All he really wanted to do was get back at that Witch who thought she could tame Demons. It was almost a pride point that he prove her very, very wrong.
"Ah, it's good to be back." He smiled to himself, whistling as he walked down the steps of the tower.
So, who first?
The Dwellers stood in formation a few hundred yards from the castle.
The sun was starting to descend, casting long shadows from where they stood. They could see the knights in formation in front of the castle, and they gripped their weapons tighter. The Saint stood in the front, fire in her eyes as she turned to face them. "It will be as we discussed."
The two Sirens that had joined them, were already in the same armor that the knights wore, ready to infiltrate their ranks and render them useless. Jackie wasn't here to play war, she was here to save her love, and a few hundred men in metal plates would not stop her. She had a goal, and that goal was Arachne, the damned Spider Queen and bringer of ruin. There was nothing about her worth sparing, and she would feel every ounce of agony that Jackie had languished under since the Queen had tried to kill her love.
"Are you ready?"
"Yes, General." They nodded, and Jackie called the Fae Harvar to her side.
"Cast your glimmer over them, so they can slip into their ranks. Once you two are in, start your song. When we hear the signal, we bypass the knights completely, and we charge the castle. Kill only who stands in our way, or who tries to kill you. Leave Arachne alive, she is the only chance we have to saving our home."
Her war party nodded, eyes hardened in anticipation and anger. They were close to the end of this nightmare, of their exile to the Forest all those years ago. Pain had been buried for years, and now they were asked to resurface it, to unpack it and create something good with the sickness that had been corroding inside of them for so long.
They watched their Sirens stroll up to the knights, protected under Harvar's magic and disappear amongst their ranks. Their song should convince most of them to remain still while the Dwellers pushed past them. Jackie pulled her sword from its sheath, and pressed a kiss to the base of the pommel. "Hold steady!"
When the sun kissed the horizon, thunder crashed across the sky.
"Now!"
Maka felt the thunder even deep within the castle.
She froze, hearing a few of the servant girls and many of the nobles scream in response. A shiver trailed down her spine and she recognized the brush of magic against her own. The Dwellers. They had come to defend themselves. "No, no, no, no!" She hissed to herself, picking up the pace down the hallway. The damn castle was built like a maze, and every time she thought she might have an idea where she was, she was farther away from where she needed to be.
The damn Hell Child can make keys appear in the hand of the King, but she couldn't produce a map. Maka scowled, eyes resting outside the window again. She was sure the Dwellers would reach the castle soon, and if she could fucking help it, she would like to be on her way from the castle before the battle began. Though, she truly wasn't sure that would be a possibility in a few moments.
A rapid pair of footsteps began echoing in the hall, headed her way and Maka crouched down, behind some dusty relic of some ancestor that probably caused this damned mess. The Witch ran past her, face screwed up in fear. Maka popped out from her hiding place, hand stretched out. "Wait!"
The other woman froze, carefully turning around as though she were afraid of who would be waiting for her. She stared at Maka for a few moments, as if she couldn't place her. Before Maka could speak again, the Witch's eyes grew wide and she held up her hands. "P-please I just-"
"Wait, please, I'm not going to hurt you." Maka whispered, trying to keep her voice soft. "I am looking for Medusa's lair."
"...With no weapon?"
"...Well?"
"She isn't up there anyways." The Witch shuddered, eyes darting over her shoulder to where she desperately wished to run.
"Great, is Soul-"
"He's gone too! Please, I don't have very long to find them!" She begged and Maka blinked.
"Where did he go?!"
"I think he went for Arachne's garden! I'm sorry, I have to go." The Witch gave her a small bow, and took off running again. Maka watched her run away, shocked look on her face. Soul got away from her?! How?! He had been in such terrible shape. Fuck, fucking Gods in every Hell, she had to stop this. Her eyes followed along the walls. The castle walls were covered in the history of the Royal family, paintings and relics adorned the walls. A hunting horn, an antique longsword that had a few spots of rust, and an old bow-
Maka grinned, pulling the relics off the wall. She shouldered the quiver, there were only four arrows but she had seen what Soul could do with one. Thunder echoed across the sky again, and the sword dropped next to her, its echo lost in the screams from the nobles again. She could start to hear conflict outside the windows, yells and screams floating on the wind. She was running out of time.
She grabbed the sword, a little too long and a little too big, but she didn't have much other choice. She had to keep going.
She only hoped Soul was still okay.
Arachne stood on the edge of her garden, warm wind brushing her face from the North.
The Fae Queen sends her regards. She scoffed, watching the battle begin below her feet. There had been some confusion in the beginning, where the soldiers had seemed unable to even move, but a few well placed flash bombs had disrupted everyone's ear drums, rendering what Arachne could only assume were Sirens useless.
It was almost endearing, the way they assumed their carefully laid plan hadn't been expected, predicted, and countered already. Swords met below, sparks giving light to assist the ever dimming sun. A long night lay before her kingdom, and when the sun would rise again, they would be stronger than ever before. Her eyes found her eldest son in the crowd, having no trouble slashing through opponents with his sword. He seemed invigorated by the battle, and Arachne wondered if her soon to be late husband had expired yet, passing his gift onto his child.
"Well, look at this mess you've made." Medusa spoke, strolling up next to her to watch the battle. "My, that's a great many Dwellers isn't it?"
"I believe many of them are just copies. Elves and Fae are known to be able to clone themselves."
"An illusion?"
"Illusion though it may be, they would still have no trouble splitting you in half with their swords."
"Fascinating." Medusa whispered, and Arachne turned from the battle, to where her maids had set up tea in the garden.
"Did you check on him?"
"Oh yes." Medusa grinned, turning to join her sister. "He's gone."
"What?! The man is practically dead! Where could he have gone?!"
"Well I'm sure I didn't let your foolish husband wander off in a fever dream. Perhaps some guards should've been in order."
"There were, you exhausting spinster." Arachne snapped, pouring herself a cup of tea. "Then the Forest came knocking at our door with an unexpected speed. Resources were reshuffled."
"Well, then you did this to yourself." Medusa answered, sitting across from her sister. "You know, I once thought this mini forest a waste of time, though you have cultivated quite a hiding place here, haven't you?"
"I am rather proud of it. Last I heard it spread very far."
"And if a Dweller makes it this far up?"
"They never will." Arachne scoffed. "They would have to get through the castle first. And my dear son, who should be coming into his own here soon."
"And when they do?"
"The Rangers are here." Arachne answered. "Hidden in my trees. They're my final line of defense."
"The Hell Child's men?"
"They are the best in the kingdom."
Medusa sipped her tea, listening to the clashing of steel and screaming of the injured. It looked as though she had something else to say, but she kept it to herself, choosing instead to let it simmer in that wicked mind of hers.
It was no matter, Arachne was so certain she was close to her goal, and she was excited to relax in her castle once more, no longer a slave to the man who once sat in the throne.
It was so lovely to see her hard work pay off.
He hoped to every God above and below he would ever have to fight a Dweller again.
Kid met each one thrust for thrust, parried what he could, and slipped away from what he couldn't. His body was exhausted, and his mind wouldn't stop running. Strategies and ideas battled in his mind as he tried to keep himself alive. There had to be a better way than this, but he couldn't seem to figure it out.
A Fae's staff connected with his chestplate, and knocked him onto his back. He hit the ground hard, helmet falling off his face as he tried to pull himself back up. The Fae who had downed him stood on his chest, drawing a small knife. Kid sucked in a breath, trying to find dignity in his final few moments, but the Fae stopped, lifting up his own helmet. "Oh, it's the little Traitor Prince."
"H-Harvar!"
"Hmm, you know, I'm not actually supposed to kill you. See, they think the Rune might be hidden on your skin, like the first one you brought to us. Me? I doubt it. That would be a lot of magic in your frail little body."
Kid blinked at his familiar tone, his words registering only a few moments later. "You-you want the Rune?"
"Well of course. Why else would we come here?" Harvar scoffed, gesturing around the battlefield as though he wasn't in massive danger just standing around with his foot on the Prince's chest. A copy, Kid's mind finally supplied him. "You brought Death into our home, and we want it reversed. Give us that, and we stop."
The answer seemed to simple, of course that was all they wanted. Their home was dying and this was their only chance to save it. Kid was formulating a response when one of his mother's men stabbed their sword through Harvar. The copy disappeared in a few wisps of smoke, leaving the knight left looking confused.
He kept that confused look on his face into his afterlife, a woman with choppy pink hair had a bone dagger stabbed in his neck. She pulled it out effortlessly, speckling him in the dead man's blood. For a fighter, she wore very little, and when she smiled at him, he felt his defenses drop. His brain screamed to run, a Siren stood in front of him, and she was going to kill him, but his body had no interest in obeying. The Siren smiled at him, twirling the dagger between her fingers. Kid couldn't make his body move, and he hissed, unable to even call for help. The woman giggled, her knife lifted over her head.
He screwed his eyes shut when he heard the knife hit metal. The Prince was suddenly aware that his arms were held up in front of his face, but the pain never came. His eyes flew opened, and rested on the back of the dead knight who stood before him. The body of the man had it's arms wrapped around the Siren, crushing her against his torso so she couldn't move. Kid moved one of his arms, and the body of the man moved with him.
I'm controlling him?! That couldn't be possible! The dead didn't just rise! They-his father could. Of course, but his father had been a Necromancer. But that wouldn't have manifested now, that would've been passed on when his Father had died! Not now, and certainly not to him. But, even if for some reason, it had picked him, it wouldn't have manifested until his father died, and his father had died-
"He just died." Kid whispered, no one around to hear him. His father was dead, and he had just died. Not a few weeks ago, not a few days ago, now. Bile rose in Kid's throat, and he turned to his side and retched, to the trapped Siren's obvious disgust. He pulled himself to his feet, and turned back to the castle.
Kid was a patient man, forgiving to a fault, and wasn't known for causing problems. But to have lied to him about his father's death?! He had never been so angry in his life, and his mother had to answer for such a sin. Now.
He was so focused on getting back to the castle, he didn't his his brother watching him, enraged look on his face.
Blake found the Witch at the same time Free found Kid.
They were on opposite ends of a long hall, checking stairways for anyone following them, or anyone coming. Eruka had crashed into him with a force he wouldn't have thought possible from such a thin person. She had them knocked to the ground, Blake idly wondering if he was to spend the rest of his life as a landing pad for women tinier than him.
When Free looked back to see what the noise was, Kid came crashing into the wolf, and promptly falling back on his ass, confused look on his face. The four of them stared at each other for a few seconds, before Eruka had launched herself into Free's arms, tears streaming down her face. She whispered to him in his language, and he held her tight, massive grin cracked across his face.
Kid met Blake's eyes, clearly shocked, but also anger under the surface. For a moment, Blake thought it might be directed at him, but Kid came his way, helping him up. "I knew that cell wouldn't hold you, but you got out quicker than I thought."
"Yeah, well. They gave me a wolf as a cell partner. Your jailer is a fool." Blake righted himself, glancing down at Kid. There was something off about him, but he couldn't figure out what it was exactly. "Are you alright?"
Kid shook his head, and looked at Free. "You ready to escape now?"
"Not during battle. We hide in room, wait for fight to stop. It would be foolish to leave during that battle."
"Where are you going?" Blake asked, eyes on Kid's strange face. The Prince only clenched his teeth, eyes on the stairwell Eruka had just come from.
"My father died."
Blake looked at Free, a concerned look on both their faces. "Aye, I know...remember? When we got back from the Forest-"
"She lied." Kid snarled, and Blake was taken aback. He had never seen Kid lose his composure before, and he had spent the better part of four months with him. But as he lived and breathed, the man standing before him was enraged. "He just died. About ten goddamn minutes ago. My mother-I-she needs to answer me for this."
Blake understood that rage, he had lived through it himself. That kind of anger was poison, and it would kill him if he didn't get a handle on it. But under his begrudging worry, he was proud of Kid. It wasn't easy for the Prince to pull himself from his ivory tower and see his world for what it was, and it took courage to finally see what happened.
Though, Blake didn't envy the pain.
Kid seemed to regain a little composure, and turned to the three of them. "You should all find a place to hide, and ride out this night."
"I'll go with you." The words fell from Blake's mouth before he realized he was saying them, but he didn't regret them. "Just, get me a sword, I'll help you."
Kid looked shocked, and he stammered over his words. "I can't ask you to do that...I...after what I did-"
"Um." Eruka spoke, her voice barely carrying over the sounds of the fighting. "Your friends, they went that way too. The Demon and the Dweller."
"He's not a Demon." Blake frowned.
"You didn't see him." Eruka countered, her line in a grim line. "That was a Demon."
Blake and Kid met each other's eyes, and began heading towards the stairs. Free called out, nose pointed towards the stairs. "Prince comes."
"Gods damn it all." Kid swore, looking at the couple next to him. "I hate to ask, but we could use some help." Free slapped Blake on the back with his massive hand, nearly knocking him over again.
"You good man. We will help. Eruka have good tricks, good for distractions."
"Really? What can you do?" Blake asked, and Eruka grinned.
"I can make bombs."
Kid nodded, gesturing for Blake to follow him. "We will meet you at the top! Try and draw the Rangers away from my mother!"
Free nodded, tossing Eruka over his shoulder and heading for the stairs. Blake followed Kid, almost feeling hopeful through all of this. Maybe there was a way to survive this mess, and get Maka and Soul back. They had to find them, and hopefully quickly. Before Maka had a chance to royally piss off the Queen, and Soul had a chance to slaughter them all. Kid grabbed Blake's wrist, pulling him into a room.
"Uh, I know it's an emotional moment but-"
"Shut up, there's a sword in here." Kid scoffed, pulling a longsword off the wall. "This was my father's study. Here."
"You sure that's okay?"
"...Yes. I want you to take it." Kid gave him a ghost of a smile. "Besides, if I know my mother, she's got the Rangers with her."
"Like what Soul is?"
"They're all like Soul."
"Well, fucking Hell. That sounds like a nightmare." Blake grinned, testing out his sword. "Let's go."
There had been stories spread throughout the kingdom about how vast the Queen's garden was, but Maka was unprepared for the forest that greeted her.
It was as if she had walked into the woods. The trees seemed to stretch on forever, and the grass underneath her feet smelled fresh. It was disorienting, to have left a castle and landed in her trees. Not to mention, decorating the halls up towards this garden, the bodies of guards had been left behind, blood slicking the passageways. Such carnage had melted into a beautiful landscape, not unlike the area she had grown up in.
A smug smile crossed her lips, and she ran for the trees. This was her territory, she had made herself invisible over the years in the leaves, and it was that skill again that would keep her alive long enough to find her friends and get the fuck out of here.
She could hear movement in the leaves, but she stayed where she was hidden. The Queen was most likely up here, as it was the safest place Maka had seen in the castle so far. Not if the Dwellers made it up, of course, but close. And if her damned self was here, she was sure to have a guard hidden with her. And Soul, if he were here, would be able to see her long before she saw him. Quietly, she moved from tree to shrub to bush, trying to keep herself hidden.
It was hard to create a perimeter when she wasn't sure how large the area was, but she kept herself a few yards from the edge of the castle walls. She could hear the battle better now, yells and cries in different languages blending together. Maka tried to focus on the task at hand, not on the insurmountable suffering beneath her that pulled at her heart. Mercy is making you weak. She scolded herself, crouched down best she could with the bow on her back. Eventually, she reached the first corner, and she moved further in, joining the ranks of the trees.
Maka pressed herself against a large birch tree, trying to use the trunk to hide herself when she felt a point at her back. "Don't move." The voice was feminine, and Maka could barely look over her shoulder to see a woman with her long black hair in a braid, and a clasp on her cloak matched Soul's. Ranger.
Fuck, of course the Rangers were here. What was the point of having a specialized group of people if all they did were hunt bounties and do the royal's dirty work. Maka lifted her hands slowly, desperately planning out her escape when there was a thud behind her, and the sound of a body hitting the ground. She whirled on her new attacker, sword almost raised when she recognized them in the dying of the light. Soul dropped the tree branch at his side, and he let out a sigh.
She wasn't sure exactly what was wrong, but something was. The way he stood was different, at his full height instead of being slightly slouched over. He hadn't looked at her yet, but he had used his broken arm to knock his fellow Ranger around, and that was enough to put her on edge. "Who are you?"
"What?" He spoke, in a voice that was unfamiliar to her. "You don't recognize your little Hell Child?" He finally looked at her, and she jumped. The entirety of his eyes were black, just like his father's, and the grin that sat on his face was twisted in a way she had never seen before. "That would break his little heart."
The Ranger groaned, pulling herself back to her feet. There were several throwing knives nestled between her fingers. She glared at Soul, confused look on her face. "...What happened to you, Soul?"
"Bah, clearly, I am not Soul." The voice spoke again, smug look on his face. He was armed with a thin blade, like a doctor would use, but his confidence was palpable from where he stood. His comrade stood across from him, worry bleeding into her features.
"Soul, I don't wanna fight you."
"What is your name? I feel bad." He snickered. "Though, none of you have bothered learning my name. Hurts a little." He flipped the knife around in his hand a few times, head tilted as he looked her over. Finally, Maka was able to see the blood that covered his clothes. The parade of dead guards suddenly made sense.
The Ranger narrowed her eyes, charging straight for his chest. He flew back a few steps, gleeful smile on his face. She punched him, knives scratching across his cheek. He moved at the last second, what would've been gashes only scrapes. He wrapped an arm around the Ranger's waist, knife at neck. "Wow. You're quick, ain't you?"
"Don't!" Maka snarled, and they both looked at her. "Don't. She's your comrade! You would hate yourself for this!"
Whatever controlled Soul snorted, and the Ranger bit into his hand. He yelped, pulling his hand away and she broke free. She glanced back at Maka before facing Soul again "Who are you?"
"I've been traveling with Soul."
"The Dweller Bounty, that's right. My name is Feather. What….what is wrong with him?!" Before Maka could answer, Soul threw a punch into Feather's stomach, a gasping breath pushed from her lungs. "G-Gods, you aren't Soul. He doesn't hit that hard." The creature laughed, grabbing her braid and smashing his knee against her nose. The crack was sickening, and Feather fell to all fours.
Soul popped his neck, walking over to the fallen Ranger. "Look, I don't mean to be such a bastard. I'm just on a specific work assignment right now. So, maybe you can just assume the kid is sorry." He kicked her, and she finally went down, with no sign of coming back up. Maka was gaping at the scene when he looked over at her. "Now, about that bow."
"What the Hell are you?!"
"Rude, I'm a who, not a what."
"...Again, who are you."
He bowed low, coming back up with a flourish. "I'm the other side of the coin. Pleasure to meet you, uh? Damn, what's your name?"
Maka blinked, confusion mixing with adrenaline and just what the hell was this- "Demon! You're the Demon."
"And you're That Girl. Won't you keep your voice down?! I'm trying to stay hidden."
"Where is Soul?!"
The Demon tapped his head, twisted grin on his face again. "He's taking a moment. It's been a rough few months."
"Give him back."
"Why," he put his hand over his heart, and Maka noticed the black scar in the center. "I'm hurt, we've barely spoken and you're already trying to get rid of me."
Maka glared, and she grabbed the Demon by the shirt and pulled him so that they were face to face. "Bring. Soul. Back. I don't have the goddamn time for this!"
"Cute, really. That's a good scary face, but I have a score to settle with a bitch of a Witch, and that's my focus right now. I know there's some sort of war on, or whatever, but we all have our hobbies."
Maka growled, her patience running thin. "Shut up!" She waited for his obnoxiously witty retort, but he stood in silence, confused look on his face. She opened her mouth, but he pushed her back into some bushes, away from the unconscious Ranger. His hand was tight around her wrist and he pulled her farther into the woods, away from the footsteps she could now hear.
Once he deemed themselves safe enough, he flipped around so he had her trapped between him, and a tree, annoyed look on his face. "You." He managed to whisper, though it was still quiet. "You're a damn Saint." He peered deeper into her eyes, though his gaze gave nothing away. "Well, sort of. Maybe a little. Not a real one at least."
"You didn't know?"
"Me and the kid aren't exactly chummy. Now are you gonna thank me for saving you? Twice I might add."
Maka growled, sitting down against the tree. She leaned her head back against the bark, listening to the woods around her settle. "Did you kill those guards?"
"Hm?" He raised an eyebrow, looking down where she sat. "Yeah, they weren't too happy about me getting so close to the Queen."
"How can you do that with his body?!"
"Oh, Girl, Girl, Girl," He shook his head slowly. "Don't you know anything about Demons?"
"Beware creatures of blood black, looking for none other than chaos with each attack." Maka recited, rubbing her temples. The Demon scoffed, cleaning his nails with the knife.
"Oh dear, is that the only thing you have? A foolish poet who was more into wine than he was Demons. And he was around when I was alive. Believe me. Villagers know more than poets do. Oh! Quote me on that." He grinned twirling the knife between his fingers. "But Demons, like every respectable creature, have rules."
"Respectable?"
"You see," He continued, completely ignoring her. "I operate on deals. And I made the kid a deal, a little tit for tat, you know?"
"For what?!"
"Make sure his sister and the girl, that's you by the way, don't get hurt. In return, I get the body. I'm a little tougher with the stabbing, and the knives. Also, I kinda wanna watch the Witch bleed, so that's on my list."
"I'm fine. Wes is fine, so give me back Soul."
"I still wanna kill the Witch, so, we can revisit this conversation later." The Demon shrugged, eyes looking over his shoulder. "Something pretty big is coming, so let's keep going."
"I'm not going anywhere with you!" Maka scoffed, springing to her feet.
"Follow me or I'll start screaming."
"No, you will stay goddamn silent." She hissed, finger in his face. "Release Soul."
"What, some little halfblood is gonna order me around? Girl. I am older than fire and more powerful than you can ever hope to be. Why in Hell's Fire should I listen to you?"
Maka got into his face then, fist wrapped in his shirt. "Because if you don't leave him, I will find a goddamn way to banish you back to Hell, go find you, and slaughter you my damned self. Return Soul!"
"Fuck," The Demon whispered, eyebrows raised. "The kid is a bit of a masochist isn't he? But, doesn't matter. This is my first time with a body in a few damn centuries. I'm not letting go."
Maka grabbed his face, bringing his black eyes to hers. "He's done now, Soul. I need your help."
The Demon laughed, crossing his arm over his chest. "The deal isn't done."
Maka glared, her patience thin and her rage beginning to bubble up again. She grabbed his wrist, bringing her knee into his thigh as she did so. He swore, his hand open allowing her to steal the knife from him. She had it over her wrist as he righted himself. The Demon pulled a face, disappointed noise erupting from the back of his throat. "Well that's hardly mature."
"That invalidates the deal, huh. If I get hurt while you're here."
"Come now, you think I wouldn't have foreseen such an obvious loophole?"
"I think you're rusty."
"Rude." He frowned, reaching for the knife. Maka brought the blade against her arm, cutting deep enough that the Demon could see her blood. He snarled, his eyes flashing red as he lunged for her. Quickly, she sidestepped him, watching in fascination as red kept bleeding into his eyes. "You little shit! Goddamn Saint!" His hand wrapped in his hair, eyes narrowed as he tried to reach for her again. He missed, though he did manage to trap her between his arms and the tree again.
"Maybe, watch your wording next time." Maka grinned, finger under his chin so she could tilt him up to see her again. "Goodbye Demon." She ordered, a press of magic behind her words. He snarled, both hands pressed against his head as he tried to hold onto his control. Soul's hands were pressed against the tree on both sides of her, and he sucked in breaths. Maka stood quietly, not wanting to frighten whatever still stood with her.
Slowly, he brought his head up. Unfocused red eyes met hers, twin tracks of black blood leaking from his eyes. Softly, she took her sleeve to his face, and wiped away the blood from one side. Soul blinked at her a few times, confusion painting is features. "How...where are we?"
"Queen's garden. I came looking for you."
Soul looked around, eyes landing on his hands, and the black scars that adorned them. Confusion turned to fear, and he growled, shaking his head. "I am a fucking idiot."
Maka scoffed, bringing a hand up to his face. "Which of us isn't? At least your arm doesn't look as bad?"
He sighed, small grin on his face. "Well, if that bow is for me, I'll take it." She handed him the bow, and the quiver. He threw that over his shoulder, then grabbed her face and kissed her. "That was for the third life debt I owe you."
"We can keep adding them up." She grinned. "Now, if we could start our escape-" Before she could finish her sentence, a booming sound shook the trees, followed by the unmistakable yell of Blake, last of the Star Clan, as he hollered for everyone to come and prove their worth against a God among men. Maka sighed, looking over where the fires had started. "Or perhaps we save our other idiot."
"Might as well."
Asura arrived at the garden as Hell seemed to break loose.
Fire began eating at the trees his mother had cultivated over the years, and chaos followed. Rangers dropped from where they had been positioned in the leaves, trying to regroup. There was more at play here than just war, but he couldn't bring himself to care, anger lighting his own fire deep in his chest. His brother was up here somewhere, and that little bastard had to be exterminated. It was unbelievable that his little brother would be the one who received the necromancy power, let alone be able to manifest the power without the mental training Asura had gone through.
Damned skittish bastard. He swore, walking headfirst into the flames. How dare that little runt steal his birthright! Kid would never make a good king, and though he shared their father's name, there was nothing remarkable about him at all. The boy was just that, a boy, and he would flounder under the throne and expectation of the nobles. He had no preparation or ability. Perhaps it had all been some sort of cosmic mistake.
A loud cheer, followed by the sounds of metal on metal echoed near where he stood, and Asura grinned. That moronic slave had gotten free, and it almost guaranteed his brother would be positioned with him. Their damned codependency would be the death of them, assuredly. He followed the sounds of the cheering, keeping himself hidden between the leaves of the trees.
The slave stood in the clearing, longsword used to block a battle axe being swung by a ranger. They met each other blow for blow, to the obvious surprise of the Ranger. "What the Hell are you?!"
"Revolution!" The slave answered, ducking under the ax and charging the Ranger's chest. The Ranger fell on his back, loud groan followed from his chest. The slave whooped, looking around the clearing. "Come on! We have to keep moving!"
Asura watched from his hiding place as the Wolf bounded through the clearing, his scrawny Witch following close behind. His little brother brought up the rear, eyes scanning the trees for any more Rangers. "Move! Hurry! The fire will spread fast!"
Asura revealed himself from the bushes then, sword drawn. Kid met his eyes, and froze. He knew, Asura realized as he took a few steps towards him. Kid knew that he had come to kill his little brother. Once Kid died, there would be no one but Asura for the power to seek out. This was the only true end for them, him and his foolish little brother. But Asura was born to rule, and Kid couldn't stand in the way of that.
"Asura, don't." Kid spoke quietly, a twinge of desperation in his voice. The slave had already backtracked, coming to his brother's defense. Kid had his teeth buried in his lip, fist right around his sword. "Please."
"I've always been fond of you." Asura sighed, pulling his sword out of his sheath. "You're a good man, but you're soft and you weren't groomed to rule as I am. I don't know why you were given the power, but I have to reclaim it."
"I'm your brother!" Kid argued, what looked like genuine hurt on his face. "That should matter more!"
"How can one rule without the command of the dead! I'm sorry, little brother. You just aren't good enough for the job."
Kid shook his head, and Asura took the opportunity to attack him, blade coming down over his brother's head in an arch. His brother managed to block the blow, but his footing was unsure. He had been sparring with his younger brother for years. He had spent innumerable hours training with the man in front of him, close to twenty seven years, and not once could he recall his little brother beating him. With his better stance, he pushed his brother onto the ground, hard. He heard the gasp come from his mouth, and he raised his sword again.
He was rushed from the side, by the blue haired slave who dared touch him. He blocked the other man's slash, laughing as he stepped back. "My, what is this loyalty you show? You're his property."
"Actually," the slave spat at his feet. "He's mine at this point, and my name is Blake!"
"Stand down, fool. This truly doesn't concern you, why waste your life in trivial family matters."
"Your own damn bloodline spoke, and it picked him! Take what pride you have left and leave."
Asura rushed him again, dropping low and popping up behind the slave, who turned around in time to see Asura's elbow slam into his face. There was a crack as blood began to drain from his nose, and the slave hissed. With unbidden tears in his eyes he moved his nose back into place, and spat out his blood. "Try again."
"You are a resilient little slave, aren't you?"
"Painfully so."
Kid pulled himself up then, resting on his sword. "Blake, please be careful-"
"See," Asura lectured, bringing his sword back on the slave, who countered him quickly, sword up on the defensive. Pressing his weight against the sword, he saw the slave's arm shake. "You call a slave by a name, you are weak."
"Kindness is not weakness." The slave whimpered, trying to hold himself up. "Its stronger than you'll ever know!"
"You've known maybe ten minutes of kindness in your pitiful life, how would you know any different." He shoved against the sword, knocking the slave over. Kid stood again, ready to resume their fight, but an arrow embedded into the ground beneath Asura's feet, and they looked towards the trees.
The Hell Child dropped from the branches, bloody clothes shining in the light from the fire. Close behind, that god damned Dweller joined them, her own eyes ablaze. "Enough. This is a waste of time." She ordered, and his brother took a step back.
"Maka! You're okay!"
"Ha! That's a girl! And you, Soul. You look like asshole." The slave laughed from where he was pulling himself up. The Hell Child made a face at him, pulling up his hood.
"I would take offense if you didn't look like shit yourself."
The Dweller walked past them, her eyes on Asura. "I am here to fight you."
"Child, take my offer to spare your life and leave."
"I am here to fight you." She repeated, a deep snarl in her voice. He scoffed at her, looking back to the rest of his brother's pathetic rebellion party.
"You let a woman fight this battle for you?"
"No, I choose to fight this battle." The Dweller answered, looking back at the me. "Keep going."
"One of us stays." The slave argued, and she shook her head.
"No, you have to keep going, we are running out of time."
"Maka-" his brother spoke again, and she threw a thin knife at their feet.
"Go! I will handle this!" She ordered them, turning back to Asura. "I want a fair fight with you, can you scrounge up that much honor?"
"For you, foolish little Dweller, I will try."
X
Wow! So that ended up being like 10k. Well! Hope you enjoyed it! I had a couple questions about fanart and I am SOOOOO okay with that! Just please link me to anything so I can promote it! And as always, please review! Probably about two chapters left,maybe 3!