"Well, yesterday went better than I expected."
The morning sun shined through the wailing sails as they flapped in the serene gales; silver clouds smothering the bleached teal sky in their choking aura. The waves lapped as gentle as ever, swelling against the ancient hull that groaned in protest, foam spitting out among the group that gathered at the stern.
Dyle's tongue flickered out in rhythmic bursts as he commanded the helm, surveying the calm seas that could rupture at any moment. Rokurou stretched as he began the conversation, "But it seems we've ended up with one extra," he assessed with a smirk. Out from behind the gathering group, came a frowning Velvet that simply huffed at his directed mention. And from behind her, peered the soulless green eyes of the small blonde malak child that had yet to make a sound. The woman scowled and stomped away from the boy, who soon followed like a confused puppy, much to the daemon's perpetual chagrin.
A certain witch hopped along with a grin of glee, orbs of lime brimming with mischief once again. Magilou hummed with excitement, "Oooh, he looks like he'd be a scrumptious midday snack for you!" she goaded with sly grin. The daemon said nothing, turning away with a glaze over eyes of dead gold; an uncomfortable thought running through her head.
"A snack?" The boy's lifeless tone questioned with no sign of fear.
Rokurou stepped forward, bearing thar familiar wolfish smirk as he barely attempted to calm down the malak, "She's just teasing."
The boy's eyes snapped up, not a single shift in expression as his words came out like a machine. "No, if that's an order. I accept it," he welcomed with no sign of self-preservation. His gaze looked through the group, and lay hollow, unkempt existence springing to mind as if misguided. No sense of self.
The samurai frowned slightly in concern, turning his back to the boy as he lowered his volume, "Should we really be taking this kid along?" he asked with a hushed tone.
Velvet looked up with no evidence of care, reverting back to her chilling demeanour as she appeared irritated by the question. "His artes will be useful to us," she simply answered, until her fists balled tight at her side, unknown to her allies. "And we can always get rid of him."
"Precisely," the blonde woman answered with a cheerful skip, placing her hands behind her head as if her interest immediately died. "Malakhim are tools. Use 'em and ditch 'em!" she stated with a confident wink. "Isn't that right, Number Two?"
"Yes." No hesitation. Velvet scowled at the soulless interaction.
"Speaking of tools..." Magilou began with a fiendish glance, "...Where's your dinner you've been craving so badly?" she childishly questioned with a toothy smile; zeroing in on the bandages that lay dormant at the woman's waist.
Upon understanding who she spoke of, Velvet growled under her breath with closed eyelids, anger spiking as the metaphorical blows exchanged the night before still sat fresh. "He doesn't matter, as long as he's still useful," she answered with gritted teeth, that only increased in pressure at the Witch's knowing grin.
"Glad to hear I'm still welcome." A familiar but flat voice reigned from above their heads. Eyes flicking up, the group spotted their half-malak ally leaning over the bow railing with a severe frown by his standards. "Not that I'm too pleased about it either," he spat with a narrowed glare. It didn't take much thought for them to understand his target. Indifferent, the daemoness pushed her weight onto her opposite foot and let out a dismissive tch, relaxing a casual palm upon her hip. However, you could see the twitch in her brow grow agitated as he continued his stare. The tension upon the silver winds suddenly weighed heavy, and the stormy skies faceted a scornful cry as it seemed to darken.
"Woah," Rokurou breathed out with minor surprise lining his lips, "What happened between you two?" he mouthed with raised eyebrows, scratching his head with a ruffle of his onyx strands.
"None of your business," the ravenette hissed with a twist of her head snapping in his direction; bearing one of the more hateful glares he had genuinely recieved from the girl.
The witch's grin widened in anticipation. And Velvet's hands clenched white.
"Oh my, dear Rokurou, don't tell me you missed it?" Magilou began with a joyful prance to his side, earning a look from the woman she relished in. "It was the most wonderful show! A play for the ages! Biting drama, twists and turns, it was absolutely exquisite, nay i say, inspirational~!" she sang with a tip of her hat, turning her back on the scowling beast that grew shaky with rage. "I believe the whole ship must have heard it! Maybe even the entire whistling sea-" Her 'praises' were cut short, when her presentation with a hand placed upon her heart and arm to the wind, was savagely interrupted.
Smack
Magilou stumbled to the ground with a yelp, her exaggerated waving of her arms doing nothing to calm the seething daemon that stood above. The witch's enlarged hat fluttered gently to the deck despite the rumbling weather, as she looked up in feign hurt. "Owwww, no harming the performer!" she cried with mock tears trailing down her petite features.
"If you know what's good for you, you'll keep your mouth shut. You are as equally expendable as any malak," Velvet snarled with a threating crack of her claw that hummed under its cloth vestiges. "Don't make me use you as my midday replacement."
Rokurou creeped forward, as if approaching a wild animal, and for the first time; attempted to calm her down. "Velvet. Relax, we'll let it go, okay?" he disarmed with the calmest tone he could muster. "We can't chance any infighting while we're out here, leave it for Loegres." The daemon's harsh glare relaxed slightly, and she sighed with a cross of her arms.
Casting out a vicious scowl upon the one who leaned above her, her threat cut like a cleaver. "Don't get too comfortable, half-malak," she coldly asserted with a mean shake of her head, before stomping off to the stern to emphasise the end of her fury. Sarid lowered his gaze steadily in halted thought. As her wrathful movements ceased, and the atmosphere lifted with slight comfort, the harsh writhing of sails in the aggressive breeze slowed to a soothing wave. The half-malak sighed as he sighted the two group members begin their trek towards him; numerous questions on their mind.
Even before they were halfway up the steps, the witch's irritating squeals rang his ears as she announced her presence. Even the dark raven that brooded on the other side of the ship could feel a similar tick strike her forehead. "Soooo, after that exemplary attack, it seemed something got you all riled up," she began coyly with a bound over, laying an uncomfortable arm on his shoulder. The half-malak only spared a slight discomforted glance her way as she smirked in his face. "What an enthralling act you all put on for us, almost had me fooled."
His sight dismissively fell away from the elvish woman, overcome with broken indecision. "Magilou, it's much more than a simple arguement to me. But, I know you'd never understand that."
"Wha- rude!"
~~~
The ocean simmered a deep blue, whisking across the spotless horizon in a constant battering rush; current carrying the flooding waves to their current destination; Loegres, Jewel of the Empire. Nature's whistle pulled them through the inconceivably vast azure; splitting crashing waves like a dagger through flesh, as pelting droplets thudded against the oak deck like bullets. Blank eyes of thoughtless vision were cast out among the rolling brine of serene waters. Blonde hair matted against his head, the young malak was enraptured by the everlasting coils of the deep depths, the lightning that struck the sky like shattered glass. He had never seen the endless plain that smothered a whole batch of mysteries under his booted feet. Number Two was cold, but for the first time; he could think. "The sea..." he murmured out mindlessly, unwilling to break away from his place of content.
The daemon sighed under the hail of whittling droplets, the water huing the fair skin that never left; shining pearls of gold painting beauty under the scorned appearance she bore for her new self. Beauty soiled by ragged clothing, and eyes of fire. And still, the malak child still lay under her thoughts like a constant, and she reprimanded her body for paining her this way.
"Velvet! How's our heading?!" Rokurou yelled from the stern, keeping watch over their sole method of breaking through this ocean safely. Despite his minute experience, he was the only one willing to perform such a task. Sarid was nowhere to be seen.
The daemoness frowned as he sprouted in her mind again, and she lazily checked over the golden compass that swayed in her firm hands. As the weather bore down on her curved strands and blurred the face, dainty lips curved downwards as she manuevered it in an attempt to read the heading. Problem; she had no idea how to. "Uh... This is so hard to read..." she whispered in mild despair, a crook in her brow at being left to such an irritating task. For another few moments, she sunk away from the compass as she raised it outwards, confusion filling her once confident and brazen irises.
"Actually, you're holding it wrong." A timid and hesitant voice remarked, a unusual hint of emotion that carried in his assisted words. Lowering her hands, the object fell to reveal the young malak standing before her - barely at chest height - with an inkling of light adorning the forest green that amassed his pupils. "It's built to function even if the ship is rolling," he nervously explained with a slow point to demonstrate where it should be levelled. Velvet's view followed his sign, and held the stand in perfect balance while the head rolled with the bob and sway of their stolen vessel.
She couldn't shake the skewed memories from reforming in her softening sight, staring down at the familiar object she now held so gently. The ring shimmered in the metallic reflection on her finger. "Huh..." she mused quietly.
"VELVET!"
She gnarled under her breath, her gentle expression cracking with a scowl. "THE HEADING'S FINE!" she cried with annoyance. Hearing no response, her sight switched back to sink onto the motionless boy that stood before her. "Kid, what's your name?"
That same withering look returned to his eyes, the spark sinking into a sea of anonymity. "Number Two," he stated as he did not move from his place. His ahoge bounced with the bumping of the ship's travel stubbornly, while Velvet's eyes closed with a sigh of exhaustion.
"No, not that. Your real name, surely you have one."
He shook his head, and her face displayed a hint of surprise from the answer. The woman faced the side for a brief moment, until she decided to pull in her demeanour for a few measly moments. She lifted the compass and pushed it towards him, "Want to hold it?" she softly asked with a gentle look.
The boy's arms stretched out for a second, with the intent of making that choice. Until the light faded again, and he sank back into place. "...If that's an order."
Velvet bit back a negative response, pushing herself again to convey a sense of genuineness. "I'm asking you what you want," she affirmed.
"So you're... ordering me to answer?"
The moment faded, and the woman wrenched the care from her heart back into its place and locked it shut, the compass falling from the chance at offering. She sighed in discontent and realisation, "Right, right... You malakhim would destroy yourselves as long as it was an order, wouldn't you?" she accused without a hint of doubt, her grit returning to her natural speech.
"That is our purpose," the boy robotically responded.
She looked away, overcome with her thoughts that flashed through her head in seconds, "You really are tools..." she murmured flatly, the final hint of softness fading along with the spark that provided the malak with a sense of self. The daemon raised her head to him again, brows narrowed sharply with a familiar frozen flame buried behind her stare. "In that case, keep your mouth shut," she ordered as she whipped herself around to face away from the malak; crossing her arms coldly.
Number Two sank in sorrow, letting out a squeak of sadness as she cast her attention away from him. Another watched from the view of the boy's solitude, matching the young malak's freezing shame with burning irresoluton.
CRASH!
A geyser of foam and sea erupted from the ship's broadside, the impact rattling the vessel with immense force. Velvet and the young malak stumbled from the great quake, while the daemon scraped to grab a hold onto the ship's devastated railing. Therefore, losing grip on the golden compass, as it flung off into the murky waters.
"Cannon fire astern! Pirates!" The warning shout came from Rokurou as he ran over to the great adversary.
Dyle's face dropped as he set eyes on the menacing shape in the distance, "That flag... it's got to be Aifread's pirate crew!" he bellowed with shock, as more explosions resounded across the desolate blue; cannon fire raining down upon them like meteors. Looming in the distance of the hazy fog, came the deathly shape of a legendary ship advancing through the volatile waters. Flags like the wings of the Devil, its great hull seemed impenetrable and invincible.
Magilou leapt over to the portside, viewing their new enemy with grand interest and probable alarm. "They've got a bead on us, folks. And in case you hadn't noticed, we aren't really equipped for sea combat!" she cried out, more cannonballs plunging into the depths with fountains of destruction paving their way.
Out from behind a crash of destroyed cargo, came the leaping figure of their half-malak as he dived from the unstoppable attacks. "Damnit! This hunk of junk won't get us anywhere!" he yelled in annoyance, sharpening his gaze to get a better look at the incoming pirates.
Velvet locked eyes with him, "Sarid!" she shouted over the constant battering.
"If you think I can throw my knives that far, you're dumber than you look!" He yelled out with a glare, instantly recognising the way she sought to him. "I'm not your tool!"
Velvet growled in irritation at the petty insult, before another cannon scored a hit on the pile of resources they held on deck; smashing through their weak wooden vessel with ease. The sparkles of aftereffect sprinkled on deck, Aifread's ship splitting the water as they stalked towards them like a lion. Shaking the ship once again, the daemon stomped her foot and roared out orders through the storm of debris. "To land then! We can fight them there!"
~~~
The group glowered at the horde of pirates surrounding them, the feel of dirt upon their boots giving them a sense of confidence over the shaggy humans that approached. Looking out upon the patch they reached, the island grassland gave them a good sense of maneuverability, Unfortunately, reaching this corner of land cost them immense damage to their ship, and it may never be seaworthy again. However, another was ripe for the picking.
"Huh! Well look at that," a sleezy accented voice rang out, as a blonde pirate stalked forward with analytical eyes as he sized up the peculiar group. "They really are a buncha daemons. That works in our favour," the man strangely revealed as he bent forward with his hands on his hips.
Rokurou bent his knees forward with a sharp judgemental look, "You knowingly pick fights with daemons? Must have a death wish," he goaded. "You're in trouble now that we're on land!" he growled fiercely, weapons drawn.
"Wipe them out, Number Two!" Velvet ordered aggressively, the horde of pirates stepping back in surprise. The young malak nodded silently, and from his hands flew a strange collection of magical parchment that coursed towards the group violently.
Smash!
Until, a wall of glistening orange earth sprouted from the land, and the paper pinged off harmlessly. "Woah there! We're not the ones you're gonna be fighting," the lead pirate explained with a harmless raise of his hands. A repetitive crunch of footsteps among the land travelled towards them, and from their group's back, came a figure adorned in deathly black vestments of a pirate, the stomping of his brown tapered boots alerting them to his presence. Blonde hair with daggered bangs and sharp eyes of cerulean - shadowed with dark markings - narrowed upon them with hostile intent, his hands still settled in his tailored black trousers casually, tightened with two belts. His built frame was the largest of the group - matched only by Rokurou, while Sarid's was more athletic - his muscles apparent through the loose white shirt over a deep orange; enclosed by a black waistcoat. Pulling his brown gloved hands from his pockets, he flexed them with a pop as his sleeves lay pulled back, and clenched his fists in a strong stance. His long business jacket sweeped the ground like a dark mist, as his sharp ornaments shined in the opening rays of sunlight.
Velvet's eyes flickered in realisation, "A malak?!" she grunted in surprise. The group bore their weapons threateningly, as the foe bent his knees and narrowed his teal orbs.
He flicked his wrist in preparation, "No... I'm the Reaper!" His voice was stern and gruff, but cool and youthful, full of experience.
"Everyone's got a gimmick, haven't they...?" the half-malak remarked with a roll of his eyes, and spun his kunai around his finger. This fight won't be easy. And having Magilou's gremlin grin as she skipped away from the battle ingrained in his mind didn't help.
Whoosh!
A blast of wind propelled forward from the mysterious malak's fist like a whirlwind, as Sarid's eyes hardened, before he sprung back in a backflip while the group darted to the side. Velvet let out a cry as she barreled forward like a beast, and went for a spry cartwheeled kick that aimed to hammer right through the man's guard. A single arm raised, and she struck true against his forearm. However, he let out a grunt of exertion as he swung her away with that lone limb. Flipping through the air into a practiced landing, she snapped her vision upward as he raced forward and plunged his fist right into the earth, sending a spanned web along the spot she had been only moments before.
Wristblade singing, it darted out against the unbreakable wall, but it simply weaved between his evasions, until he sprung back and away from a sudden lunging kick that lashed at his chest. "What is this guy?" she barked out in surprise.
"A malak pirate? This should be fun!" As the mysterious man landed, he faced no rest, as the samurai's assault sliced out in a storm of blades; coating the malak's arms in multiple lacerations while his skin held tough against such a weapon. Batting an arm away, his fist blazed with fire as it went into a violent uppercut that scorched the hairs on Rokurou's chin as he dived back.
"Hmph, not bad," he grumbled.
Like an eagle, his orbs locked onto every weapon they had drawn against him.
Shing!
Metal sang like the wind, stabbing air like it was a spear; throwing knives. Flicking his sight to the side, he caught one in a resolute fist; ivory seeping from the fist as he threw the knife behind him and shook the wound from his hand. "A sword, twin blades, paper, and throwing knives... No pendulum that I can see..."
Shing!
Again. Three more. Sarid's kunai poised out from each crevice of his fist, and in a clean swipe; skirted them in the malak's direction. Easy. But, as the man went to move, a burst of wind propelled them forward like bullets. 'Wind!?' Eyes snapping open in concentration, he batted two away with valiant back fists.
Shink
"Argh!" He cried out as one sank into his shoulder like talons, kneeding into his flesh like butter as vermillion bore into his jacket. Ripping it out with barely a wince, he glared at the far-off figure with messy strands of white. Focusing his energy, he blinked and swung his palm forward. But, no one remained. Suddenly, his acute senses alerted him desperately, and the half-malak appeared behind the man instantly. Swinging a fist hardened in earth, he rose an eyebrow as the white-haired man skillfully shifted the fist's momentum away and struck out with a jab.
The malak pirate couldn't help but smirk slightly at another's knowledge of hand-to-hand. And so, he decided to test it.
The quick jab was caught in the malak's strong hold, and Sarid winced when the man wrenched it to the side in a painful twist. His shoulder cried out, but the white-haired man rolled around his opponent - spinning his arm free from the devastating lock - and struck out with an elbow. The malak, while surprised once again, found no trouble in allowing the attack to slam against his forearm that he raised up to his head in defense. In the next few moments, Sarid leapt around in agile strikes, striking out at any vulnerability that this man of stone could potentially show; finding none. The pirate malak stepped away from a leg sweep, and raised his arms in a high block as the half-malak soared above him with two lightning fast kicks, and landed behind him.
Smash
The man caught the kneeling shinobi with a wild kick that sent him rolling back into the dirt, arms aching from the jarring strength. However, it was time for him to find out what battles at another's side could bring. As Sarid rolled back, a cloud of darkness pounced over him with a gleam of steel, and curved its edge against the pirate's calf. He fell to the ground with a gasp, until a flash of sunset soared over to him; Rokurou casting a dagger across the man's shoulder that he raised in defense, a gash of crimson pooling from the mark. "Damnit! You're strong..." he spat with a sharp inhale. Slamming his fist to earth, a wall of stone hurriedly rose, but it did nothing as an impact struck his back and sent him stumbling forward. In anger, he growled, before a hand dragged him down by the jacket; Velvet pulling him into a teleporting knee scored by the half-malak. Caught on his last legs, he could do nothing as the swiftness of water was wreathed over him, the samurai's innumerable assault bearing stinging wounds to light.
"Number Two!" the daemoness cried out in order, and the rumbling of earth gave the pirate his warning, as he leaped away from a sprout of flame that grew at his feet.
The pirate's breaths came out in a heave of mild fatigue, gripping his side with a slight wince as the group stood steadfast and undamaged - except Sarid, who remained winded - from his attack. He may be powerful, but he can't win against four of their calibre.
The pirate malak chuckled dryly. "You pass the test. Join us," he suddenly announced without warning.
Everyone froze, even the ready sway of Rokurou's poised knives sat stunned.
"Well, aren't you an impudent one," Velvet mocked, rising from her tense stance as the hostility ceased; the pirates walking forward while the malak stood undisturbed.
He didn't make any large movements, holding her gaze as dry humour leaked from his lips. "Says the daemon who torched Hellewas," he mused, the opposing ravenette sinking weight onto one foot confidently.
"You knew about that?" she questioned with a crooked eyebrow, genuinely caught off-guard.
Sarid's sarcastic tone travelled in uninvited, "I'm pretty sure the whole North knew about the attack, and that's before the residents that are left get the information overseas, let alone the exorcists you have angered," he stated with a dismissive look.
Velvet tapped her foot with annoyance, "We have angered," she reminded sternly, a severe side eye being her silent warning for him to be quiet.
The pirate malak hummed at the rocky interaction, before refocusing on the subject at hand. "I hope you realise we're doing you a favour. If you'd stayed on that course, you would've smashed right up against the gate of Vortigen," he revealed with obvious look, a gaze of a man who knows his field.
The other pirate stepped forward, the cute little yellow bird tweeted on his hat as he spoke, a gleam in his teeth from a cliche golden tooth. "You're heading to Midgand, aren't you? That means you're gonna have to go through the narrows up ahead," he informed helpfully. "But the kingdom has a massive fortress built to defend them... with a tremendous gate."
The daemoness placed her knuckle against her lips in thought, as Rokurou murmured behind her with wonder. "A gate... if this is true, then we are in your debt." A sigh came from the man who stood at his side, until a harsh elbow to the ribs paired with a cold look shut him up with a silent wheeze.
The pirate malak crossed his arms seriously, "We wish to pass through as well, but we lack the strength. I propose we form a partnership."
Velvet's eyes rose in suspicion, "I'd be a fool to blindly trust the word of a pirate," she stated simply.
"Do you really wish to see the gate yourself? We won't stop you. We'll even throw you a nice funeral, if you like." The man dryly hissed, his expression growing cold, until he began to walk towards them; which brought the group to alarm as they readied themselves. Apart from one.
"I don't know about you, but I'm done with suicide missions," Sarid coldly asserted with a low shake of his head, stepping in front of the pirate that aimed to walk through the group. "You can refuse if you like, but I'll take what I can get."
The malak let out hum in response to the man's choice, "Seems we've got a smart one here," he snidely complimented. "If you're aiming to join us, then follow me." The malak continued his walk past the tense group, as a few stared in bewilderment at the half-malak's choice.
"What are you doing?" Velvet latched onto the shoulder of the one who seeked to step in tow. Her glare could boil away a northern winter. However, the man did not shy away from the bandaged hand she brought to bear, no matter the implication or growing pit in his stomach.
Sarid did not react in anger, confusion, or fear. Disappointment was all that rested upon his face, his once sharp azure eyes sunken with a flat look. "I'm done with this. If you want to die so badly, go ahead," he said with a dismissive tone, stepping past the irritated woman that stood in his path. "But, do it without me." The half-malak stalked past, an aura of assured mental fatigue in his step, and went to walk at the side of their mysterious new ally.
Magilou had an unusual look on her expression, surprise. "So, what? You're just leaving? And you're just letting us refuse?" she questioned with a sincere look of confusion. The man stopped, but did not turn. However, Sarid did let one last meaningful look settle upon the group he traveled with. Eyes of teal briefly glazed with hesitance, stuck in the present with already conjoined attachment to these allies. But, he had to look to the future. That's what he was here for, so such choices must be made.
"Your business is your business, and ours is ours. Your ally is an example of that; we all have our own goals. There's nothing more to say," he explained with harsh bite at the end of his words, while the group sat in varied states of mind.
Suddenly, the blonde pirate jogged forward and towards the malak in earnest. "But First Mate! Y-You can't do it as just the two of you! We'll all come with you!" he begged desperately, genuinely concerned about the malak's well-being.
"You'll only get in the way. Stick to the plan and focus on your duties aboard the Van Eltia."
His cold response didn't disturb the pirate, as he reigned back his words and nodded in confirmation after catching his unreasonable request. Seeing such endearment towards a malak, Sarid couldn't help but send an appreciative nod in his direction, which got him a grateful one in return. The pirate malak sent a readying look towards the lone member that made the choice to help, and Sarid returned it with a grin of confidence. The newly formed duo then set off to traverse the vines that led to the cave system, blonde and white flowing in the breeze, and beginning their siege on the Gate of Vortigen.
And Velvet Crowe couldn't help but watch in concerned indecision, as their two backs vanished into the darkness.