Fists sinking into the jelly-like flesh brought up elated feelings in Beth from the satisfaction of landing a blow. Of course, any feelings it arose were dashed as soon as she realized that the blow had done nothing at all, if only angering the Blob that much more.
With a squeal from its mouth that she didn't know it had, the creature turned its gelatinous arms on her, throwing her across the parking lot. She landed with a grunt, her hands scraping painfully against the asphalt. "I have to use these to write tomorrow!" she huffed.
"You do realize that its soft flesh will only absorb the blows?" Maea inquired, stepping toward the demon with a fierce looking broad sword. She eyed the creature with some contempt, planning before she made any move. The slayer—Beth—was much prone to acting without thinking, much like her own father, hoping that whatever landed stuck. Maea, on the other hand, having the craft of strategy in battle, chose to consider her options before going in. While this was no battle and that creature was hardly a worthy opponent, she still opted for tact when fighting. It kept her from being thrown through the air at least, which could not be said for some individual's tactics.
"Well then what do you want me to do?" Beth yelled, throwing up her hands as she watched her friend move around the demon, keeping a safe distance.
"Think before you act," Maea replied curtly, her attention more on the demon than her. Eventually, she feinted left before going in for a blow, her sword pointed toward its soft body. There was a squelch as the metal broke skin, releasing the demon's inner contents with a hiss. Steam arose from the wound, alerting Maea, who quickly pulled her sword out. Not much use that did, seeing as the acidic blood of the demon already ate through most of the metal. It resembled more of a rubber sword now with the way the blade swayed as Maea moved it.
"Useless," she hissed, throwing the blade to the ground. Obviously, she had underestimated the creature's defense. In her defense, she hadn't ever met one of these before.
"Got any other great ideas?" Beth called, finally picking herself up off the ground. Now that the creature sported an open wound, she likely couldn't make contact with it without getting some of its innards on her. And she was pretty sure she wasn't acid-proof.
"I fear we may be out of our bounds," Maea stated, frowning as she said it. No one liked to admit defeat, especially not a God of War.
"Poppycock," Beth responded, waving her hand as if to brush off the comment. "We just need a new tactic. One that involved less…bodily contact."
"Isn't your entire job bodily contact?" Maea asked disparagingly.
She sniffed. "So what if it is? Banzai?"
Sighing, Maea nodded. "Banzai."
Taking her stake, Beth jammed the piece of wood into the demon's head, stepping back as soon as she felt it break skin. A hiss filled the air as the wood began to deteriorate, eaten by the acidic blood.
"Maybe we can just keep cutting it until all of its insides are outsides," she commented.
"Only if you wish to leave another pothole in the town," Maea replied, gesturing to the drips that were currently making their location known by the holes in the asphalt below.
"Huh," she said, forgetting that that could be an issue. "It's not exactly sturdy. Can we kill it without cutting it open? I feel as if even the tiniest of pressure might break, err, it's skin."
Maea took a step back as the demon took a swing at her, roaring in protest at being attacked. Of course, he brought it upon himself, trashing the outdoor fruit and plant display stands at the grocery store.
"We could burn it," Maea finally suggested with a shrug.
"And where are we going to get fire?" she inquired, eyebrow raised.
Smirking, Maea ran off, leaving her to deal with the creature. It was even more short-tempered now that they'd pissed it off. Still unable to touch it, she dodged and side-stepped its attacks as she waited for Maea to come back, hopefully with a plan.
The ex-Deity returned soon enough, carrying a propane tank pulled from the barbeque display stand which screamed 50% OFF! at all customers who passed it. Eyes going wide, Beth quickly jumped behind her friend, pretty sure this was going to end nastily.
"What if it explodes?" she hissed, eyes darting between Maea and the tank in her hand.
"It won't," Maea assured, turning the knob on the tank. She ran toward the demon, throwing propane all it. It wasn't too happy about the bath, if its grunts and squeals were anything to go by. When she finished, Maea threw the tank off the side before placing her hand right on the creature. Before Beth's very own eyes, the propane lit and Maea quickly stepped back as she watched the creature writhe and sputter as the flames overtook it. She could only watch with rapt attention (and a smidge of horror) as the demon soon deflated into nothing more than a pile of sludge on the asphalt. There was still some hissing and steaming, so it was still best left untouched.
"Did you set it on fire with your hands?" she asked incredulously, tearing her eyes away from the fire-y mess to look at Maea.
"Have I not mentioned that to you before?" Maea asked. Dumbfounded, Beth shook her head. "As the God of War and Strategy, my element was Fire. While I am incapable of producing the same amount of flames as I once was, I can still generate enough heat to set something as combustible as propane on fire."
"Well geez," she murmured, eyes wide. "That's nifty."
"I suppose," Maea said with a shrug. "Its use has gone out of favor with the advent of electricity, but once, yes, it was very useful."
Shaking her head, Beth took a seat on the curb, eyes still on the flaming mass of goo. "So what do we do with it?"
Walking around it to stand beside her, Maea tilted her head to examine the mess as well. "I suppose we can't just leave it here. Though it's not as if we have something to clean it up with. You don't suppose the fire will just eat away at it, leaving nothing but scorch marks?"
"I kind of don't suppose, but I do like that idea," she replied. "It involves the least amount of work on my end."
Sitting down beside her, Maea smiled. "As a slayer, should you not be more concerned with the well-being of others?"
"No," she snorted, leaning back. "What's the rest of the people ever done for me?"
"Your job is to save the world," Maea reminded her. "It matters not what the others have done for you."
"Yeah, and what about you?" she asked. "What's your job?"
"I am without a destined purpose," Maea stated. "Now, I do as I please."
"And you please to fight with me?" she questioned and Maea nodded. "And what about after, when I'm dead? What are you going to do then?"
Shooting her a curious look, Maea asked, "Has all this talk about your own future gotten you to consider everyone else's?"
"No," she responded quickly. "Well, maybe. I mean, I know I'm going to be a slayer for the rest of my life—that's how these things go. But here I am, still going to college. Majoring in History, sure, but college nonetheless. And sometimes with Zack, I talk about years from now and I don't even know where I'm going to be a year from now, let alone if I'll be with him! So yes, I am thinking about everyone else's future, so I don't have to consider mine."
"You should not worry yourself with others," Maea told her.
"I've never really had other people to worry about," she sighed. "Andrew already had a job, and so did the rest of my family. Even Jackie, ever since he was young, seemed like he had his own path. Maybe it was just because he was so much older than me, but with others, I feel like we're all heading into unknown territory."
"I am much older than you," Maea reminded her. "Much."
"I know, eons," she emphasized. "But what are you going to do? You told me you worked with a slayer once. What did you do after her?"
"That was not nearly as long," Maea informed her. "Before, slayers lived for only a short period of time. Already, I can tell you will outlive her by far. And after? I hid myself away for a while. It was hard, having done what I did. I had learned just how short a human's life could be, but I had never witnessed it. I had become too attached."
"I know," she sympathized. "But after that, what then?"
Maea shrugged. "I traveled. Your world is not without its strife and it was easy to find myself caught up in another conflict. I stayed like that for many years, before I lost hope even in people like yourself. I love war, but destruction is another thing, and humans have become so good at that."
"Yeah," she agreed a little uneasily. The woman was insulting her own race after all. Or, at least, half of it.
"But then I found you," Maea finished, "and I was able to reclaim what I lost: that vigor in battle and the trust that had long since been diminished in your kind. In you, I see a true warrior. I had forgotten that slayers were the last of those. So, I suppose, after you, I will stay with the slayers for as long as it pleases me. But truly, do not worry yourself over such matters. For you, that is a long way off, and as for me, I am used to living like this. It is of no consequence to me. I will always be around."
"Does it suck?" she asked. "Being here while everyone else moves on around you?"
"I have grown used to it," Maea replied, her voice sounding detached. "Now, are you prepared to start the rest of your life tomorrow?"
"Don't remind me," she groaned, tilting her head back. "Ugh, I have a nine am class first thing tomorrow. How's that for starting off college? I should have special access to afternoon classes, seeing as I'm a slayer."
"I meant more along the lines of you starting your field training," Maea corrected, smiling. "But yes, classes do begin tomorrow. It has been a long while since I have frequented a place of learning. History, you said? I may just stop by some of your classes."
"Well, right now, it's a lot of core classes," Beth informed her. "So that means biology, and somehow I got talked into taking a philosophy class with Nadja. I don't philosophize."
"True, sometimes you hardly think," Maea quipped, earning herself a glare from Beth. "Come, you should return to your house to sleep, if you truly do have an early class tomorrow."
"Yes, mum," she muttered, standing up off the ground. Walking over to her car, her slayer-sense suddenly went wild, feeling unlike something she'd ever felt before. She stopped, homing in on the source.
"Beth?" Maea asked when she noticed she had stopped.
"You feel that?" she asked, looking around.
"I felt the flare, yes," Maea agreed. "Do you wish to confront it?"
She considered that option for a second, feeling the heaviness in her bones. She'd had a long day today, what with Nadja's party and then the patrol just now. "Nah, I'll get it another night," she decided. "I've got me to think about right now." Decision made, she strode off to her car, Maea beside her.
-.-
There was a lot of wonder to college thinking and planning, as Beth was nearly a hundred percent certain that all of these classrooms in all of these buildings were not being used at once. So why the hell did they have so many?
"That's the engineering building," Nadja listed off, using her handy-dandy map on her handy-dandy phone. "We'll steer clear of there."
"Why, afraid you might find your cousin's clone?" Beth asked, smirking.
"No, he's just concerned you've got a thing for smart, nerdy guys like him so he doesn't want to run the risk," Nadja shot back, not missing a beat.
"He did not say that!" she gasped, offended. "Why does everything think that I'm the one who's going to find somebody else?"
Nadja finally deigned Beth with a look, though it wasn't a good one. "Because you're the pretty one," she explained in an exasperated tone.
"I do no doubt that," Daniel agreed with a firm nod of his head, "but you are mostly unaware of another's attraction anyway, so I do not see you acting upon it."
"Not helping," Beth griped. First day of college and she was already getting poked fun at.
The University of Washington was, without a doubt, one helluva campus. The old, regal buildings contrasted with some of the more modern ones surrounding the campus, but she thought that only added to their appeal. Though, she wasn't much in the ways of architecture, that didn't mean she couldn't be impressed. She grew up in a castle for goddess' sake; old was her thing.
As it was, the group had found themselves seated in the grassy quad, surrounded by many other loud students also enjoying their free time. Daniel had another class in an hour, and Beth and Nadja not for another two. So far college was a lot like high school, with teachers who droned on and on about a subject that you had to write a lot of notes about, but with more freedom. And a McDonalds!
"You know Beth, you could go and date around," Nadja suggested, a humorous gleam in her eyes. "I bet a lot of guys would find it super-duper hot to date a slayer."
" Puh -leeze," she snorted. "Yeah, I'm sure there are tons of blokes who think it is beyond attractive that I could lift them—in their car. Besides, I'm here in a learning capacity."
Nadja blinked. "You're just here because your mom wanted you to go to college. You're going to be a slayer for the rest of your life, that's your career. This is just play for you."
"No!" she responded indignantly. "I take my education very seriously."
"Oh, really? What class do you have later today, the study of Paranormal Activity in the United States?"
"No, that's upper-division," she replied snidely.
"You're a history major," Nadja reminded her. "What's the applicability of that?"
"You know, as a student of the Liberal Arts, I find your comment very offensive."
"Liberal arts are the building blocks of education," Daniel mused. "And did you know that the word 'liberal' comes from the roman word 'liber,' which means free? The romans did not allow their slaves to learn certain subjects like languages, only citizens could be taught. These are the arts of the free citizens: Liberal Arts."
"See, history teaches you useful things," Beth surmised.
Nadja rolled her eyes. "Daniel, what are you majoring in?"
"Accounting."
"My point still stands," she decided, throwing a firm glare at Beth.
"Look, I picked it and I like it," Beth huffed. "Besides, the only course I'm taking now are stupid ones like math and chemistry."
"I told you to take geology with me," Nadja responded. "But no, you wanted to do chemistry."
"I did not want to take an eight a.m. class!"
"I see I had incorrectly assumed that the frustration over classes would occur later in the year, possibly around midterms," he cut in, frowning at the two. "I thought you were excited about college, Nadja."
"I was," she pouted. "I was going to be free and have fun, but I'm stuck living with my parents."
"And eating non-cafeteria food, oh no," Beth muttered under her breath.
"Also, I feel really short," she finished, glaring at all the students around her.
"Nadja, you've always been short," Beth reminded her.
"Yes, but now I'm noticing it more," she explained. "All of these boys are too tall! I've never gone to school with boys, not since puberty."
"Neither have I," Beth reminded her. "Both of us were raised in all-girl's school."
"I've come to find there is no shift in learning when one attends a coed school versus single," he commented, glancing around. "In fact, I prefer the differences in the environment."
"He means he likes to stare at the girls," Beth whispered to Nadja, who snorted.
"Mm, I don't blame him," she whispered back with a secretive grin. In a louder tone, she added, "It won't be so terrible of a place to spend the next four years at—three and a half if you're an over-achiever like Daniel is. But it would have been better if we'd been living on campus. I really had my heart set on Alder."
"We can live in a dorm next year," Beth promised, "or get our own place. My mum would be more than ecstatic to see me growing up and living on my own. And by then, I'll be making my own cash as a full-time slayer."
"I prefer the off-campus living," Daniel threw in. "I'm on campus now and I care very little for my roommate. They may say they match people as best they can; I do not believe it though."
"Who's your roommate?" Nadja inquired.
"He's from North Dakota," he started, "and is incredibly odd."
Beth and Nadja exchanged looks, only wondering what a guy Daniel explained as "odd" could possibly be like.
"Oh, he's out-of-state? You should invite him to lunch with us," Nadja suggested. "I bet he doesn't have many friends."
"No, he doesn't, but he does have a pet rock he speaks quite frequently too," he said.
"A pet rock?" Beth said slowly. A picture of this kid was forming and boy was in not pretty.
"Yes, but not in the traditional sense," he explained. "Or maybe so. It is unadorned."
"So, you're telling us he speaks to a rock he could have simply picked up off the ground?" Nadja asked for clarification.
He looked thoughtful for a moment. "I suppose that is what I am saying."
"So what does he, uh, say to his rock?" Beth inquired.
"I honestly cannot say," he replied. "He speaks in low tones to it. I do not know if it in secret or if he is trying to be soothing."
"Okay, now you really do need to invite him around," Nadja said with an amused snort. "Does this sound like anything you know of, Beth?"
"Like what? Are you hoping he's some sort of demon?" she asked in return. "It sounds more like he's unstable to me/'. Or just really lonely. Maybe you should invite him to hang out with us."
"I could do that," Daniel said slowly, though he looked no happier about it than before. "I will admit I am no stranger to ostracization, but I would also like to say that I am not nearly as odd as this kid."
"No, no, you are blessedly normal," Nadja assured. "I just think he'd be a fascinating person to meet. He also sounds completely harmless."
"Yeah, invite him around at least once," Beth agreed. "Maybe with real people, he's stop conversing with a rock."
-.-
The heavy mist creeping up over the rocky terrain that dotted the Hiao Mountains held an ominous appeal. Virothan felt it was appropriate; the High King's Army was meant to return soon, and with it, he feared came bad news. The Turoths clan was a vicious one, and only the truly depraved could excel in such a fight. But they had been encroaching upon the far-most northern point of his father's lands and as the eldest—and not to mention the transient King—was it not his duty and birthright to fight those who dared oppose him? He thought it was.
With a light frown marring his features, he stepped back from the grand glass window, retreating back out of the King's antechamber and into the court room. There were soldiers, grouped in pairs, at each entrance, but besides that, there was no one else. Besides, these guards were sworn to secrecy—their tongues removed to ensure nary a word be spoken—so it was as if he was alone with his thoughts. After all, nothing he could speak would be uttered ever again if he so wished.
The Dark Prince, as he was wont to be called, settled back onto his throne. He had stumbled upon the nickname not due to his looks; though those were dark in features—his hair nearly as black as his eyes, both settled against his darker complexion, similar to that of his late mother's—but as his standing as the more reserved of his siblings. His youngest brother was by no means dark, though some of his pranks could be perceived as so or so Virothan thought, and carried about him an almost light and carefree attitude. He was surely too blasé about many things and was therefore kept from most strategic planning. He was no fit to take over the throne as Virothan was. Though he loved Abechius dearly, the boy was, to put it frankly, an idiot.
A loud knock on the heavy wood door to the court room disturbed Virothan from his thoughts. He motioned for the two guards to open the doors, allowing the person in.
A man, not yet old enough to be greying nor young enough to be anxious, rushed forward before stopping, coming to his knees before the throne.
"My Young Lord," the man greeted, bowing reverently. Virothan detested the title—he did not think himself young, though the title would not change any time soon. Though he was the standing King while his father was ill, as long as his father lived, he was merely still the Prince. But it was a matter of semantics and of no pressing concern. After all, despite the care and resources poured into saving their father, the man's ailment continued. Maybe he wished to rejoin his late wife.
"You bring news of the Turoths?" he inquired suspiciously. Though the man was dressed in armour, it was not that of a soldier in the roaming battalion. He wore not his outer coats to express his fealty to this land's King, nor did he carry the undertunic of the flag's colors. He was not dressed to face an opposing army.
"No, my sire," he replied in a clipped tone. "I was part of the team sent out on exploration."
"Ah yes, Master Haggins idea," Virothan recalled, remembering the crazy old wizard his father kept around. It had been his idea to engage in the acts of conquer, something Virothan was willing to admit excited him. Long since had his father's lands remained stable and now his eldest wished to expand. And with the current world having shrunk down as every corner was known and claimed, it was best to look outward—to other worlds. It had been a long time since travel like that had been committed and it was time to broaden the horizons, so to speak. "Tell me then, what news does your team bring back? Have you found lands unconquered by any power?"
"Sire, that is not why I have come to speak with you," he replied and Virothan's smile slipped off his face. "This is of more pressing matters."
"And what could be more pressing than this? Virothan inquired doubtfully. "Does someone question my rule? I will smite them. You may as well consider such done."
"Sire, upon our search of an inhabited planet, one covered in mortals such as myself, I came upon a being—a woman. Your sister."
The silence was palpable. The soldier, head still bowed, was unable to see his Lord's expression. He clenched his fists before sneaking a peek, only to see that the Young Lord was not even looking at him. No, Prince Virothan's gaze was set upon the far stone wall, unseeing, and expression unreadable.
"No," he finally replied, shaking his head and looking back down at the man. "You are mistaken. My sister was killed, violently, may I remind you, by an enemy assassin. I did not increase the guards around the castle for my own pleasure. She was killed right in this very palace! In the West Hall! And you believe you have seen her?"
"I am aware of how odd this appears," the man continued, his voice not as sure as it once had been, "but I swear by King Mightion himself that it was your sister, the princess, I spotted!"
"That cannot be," he insisted tersely. "It was my own brother who witnessed her demise. Would you stoop so low as to call your own Prince Abechius a liar?"
Frightened by the implicit meaning behind the words, the man's head flew up as he stuttered out, "O-of course not, my young lordship! Prince Abechius is wont to play tricks upon us, but he would not devise such a cruel plot! I only believe that something odd upon the assassin's part occurred. Is it not at least something to consider, that she may well not be dead?"
Leaning back in his chair, Virothan considered the man's words. "I will have a word with my brother," he decided. "Now leave, return to your team and prepare records of your journeys. I ask that you leave this part out, until it can be further looked upon."
"Of course, my young lordship," the man agreed, bowing once more before hurrying off. Virothan sat for a moment longer after the heavy wooden doors had closed and he was once again left with his own thoughts. Shortly after though, he was up on his feet again.
"I will return shortly," he called out, "if one is to come here with news of the battle against the Turoth, send a page for me immediately." With those parting words, he swept out the side door, striding down the long corridor toward where he knew Abechius spent his long hours when he was not playing, using his illusions upon his old nursemaid, or ruffling the poor, innocent kitchen maids' layered skirts.
In a small alcove overlooking the western border, where the land turned from rocky mountain to a lush valley and roaring river, Abechius sat, pretending to be occupied with a book. It was likely he was scheming instead. Virothan approached his youngest brother, thinking it a shame that such a devious mind was wasted on ill-timed tricks and pranks. Had Abechius put forth the effort to become more, he would have been an even better strategist than their sister, whose ferociousness and keen mind had long-since out-shined all those around her. Had she been here, he undoubtedly would have had no issues with the Turoth. If he was willing to admit such a failure, he would even say it was likely they would not have over-extended their boundaries to begin with.
"Abe," he called out, drawing the young man's attention. Abe looked up from his book, a wide, greeting smile overtaking his features.
"Roth," he replied in an overly friendly manner. He was most similar to his eldest, though his dark hair not as well-kempt and there were many who would say that while Virothan's dark eyes were devoid of emotion, there was a spark of humor and delight to be seen in Abechius'. It was because of that, that while Virothan was undoubtedly the more attractive of the two, the kitchen maids didn't mind when Abechius came around.
"I do hope I'm not disturbing anything," Roth cut in as he stood beside the alcove, his eyes lingering on the book in Abe's hands. He knew his brother had no interest on the reigning history of their home, Altxyrior.
"Oh, nothing I cannot pick up later," he replied impishly. "Now, what brings our mighty king to my doorstep? Surely there are no kingly matters you wish for me to participate in. When you assumed the throne, you made it quite clear what you thought of my leadership skills."
"I have received the oddest of news," Roth began, keeping his voice even. "A foot soldier of mine has returned from Master Haggins' journey to inform me that a being—a girl—much like our dearly departed sister, has been spotted."
Abe, to his credit, didn't even blink. "How odd indeed," he agreed. "He must have been jesting."
"No, I fear that is your area of expertise," Roth claimed.
Abe looked taken aback from his brother's tone. "Surely you do not believe him."
"I have little reason not to," Roth replied, throwing a meaningful look at his brother. "After all, it is not like my men to lie to me. You, on the other hand, I could not say the same."
"She is dead," he promised, standing up as he did so. He did not detract his gaze from his brother's, wanting to keep the firmness in his own voice. "I told you exactly what happened. I did not leave any detail out."
"Did you?" Roth responded through clenched teeth. "It is in your nature to be deceptive!"
"And you believe I would lie sbout this?" he asked, astounded at being accused of such treachery. "You believe I would lie to you about that, something of such importance? I assure you, she is dead. I know not of whom your foot soldier spied upon, but it was only someone of her likeness. And I do not like being accused of such actions, dear brother. You above all others should know how loyal I am to you. Would I betray you in such a manner?"
Eyes burning hotly, Abe watched as his brother failed to respond, instead taking a step back. Roth's expression was unreadable as he did so, leaving him none the wiser about his eldest brother's feelings.
"Return to your pranks," Roth finally uttered before turning on his heel and striding back toward the stairs. Abe scoffed, muttering unkind words at his brother under his breath as he sat back down, returning to his book.
Virothan quickly moved down the steps, a determined look in his eyes. He felt no deceit from his brother and had no reason to doubt him before, not even when he first came with the news. But he was no expert at detecting out the impudent, not as his sister has been. She was the first to detect dissent amongst the ranks; he was graced with no such skill. So instead, he located the nearest page.
"Page," Virothan called out, earning the young boy's attention. Immediately, the boy dropped to his knees and bowed his head.
"My Young Lord," he spoke, awaiting orders.
"Send a message down to Master Haggins' team," Virothan decided. "Tell him that I wish for them to look in upon this oddity that they have spotted out on their journey. I will need more concrete evidence of what they have found."
"Sir?" the boy asked, confused.
Virothan waved him off. "They will know of what I speak. Now go. I wish for them to leave immediately and report back as quickly as possible. I cannot act unless I know more."
"Right away sire," the boy said before rushing off down the hall.
While he did not like to think his brother may have lied to him in some way, he was unwilling to offer up such ignorant trust to him sibling. Abechius knew how to lie and cheat his way out of most dealings, those with family included. He hoped their report would prove to be fruitless. Otherwise, serious repercussions were to follow.
.
.
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A/N: Just a quick note: I might not post a chapter next weekend. I'll see if I can get it out Friday or Monday, but no promises!