Feliks woke to the cool early morning air and a hand running back and forth across his chest, fingertips tracing the lines of muscle tenderly.
As his vision came into focus he saw Ianthe's impossibly bright eyes staring lovingly into his as she used his arm as a pillow. The two of them chest to chest and covered under a woolen blanket.
"Morning lover, sleep well?" asked the mercenary, unusual tenderness in her voice.
"Very well," said Feliks, a goofy grin making its way onto his face. "So then, does this mean we're together?"
"I didn't fuck you just to say goodnight," answered Ianthe, but not angrily, if anything she was coy and grinning as she said it. "So yes, we're together now."
"Good," said Feliks and Ianthe kissed him.
"You need more practice," teased Ianthe with a giggle as Feliks sloppily tried to return it. "Don't worry though, I'll give you plenty of chances to practice kissing and...other things," finished Ianthe in a husky whisper into Feliks' ear, making a shiver run down his spine. "So long as you're a good boy that is."
"And how do I know if I'm being good?"
"Well," said Ianthe drawing the word out. "Some of it involves being nice," said the mercenary kissing him chastely, fingers flitting across his chest. "While some of it involves being naughty," continued the mercenary in a sultry tone, nipping at his neck with her teeth and making Feliks' breath hitch as her fingers trailed their way down his chest and stomach, stopping just short of his groin and tapping on his pelvis expectantly.
"But we don't have time for the naughty right now," said Ianthe, a playful grin on her face as she grabbed her discarded clothing and began to dress. Making no effort to hide her nudity from Feliks as she did so.
"I think you left a mark on my neck," said Feliks rubbing where the mercenary had nipped.
"Good, now people will know that you're mine. Here, get dressed," said Ianthe and Feliks caught his pants that she tossed to him. "We have to start soon."
"Start what?" asked Feliks.
"Morning exercise. What? Did you think that I'd let you slack off today? This time I think I will keep us going until you puke. Hope you enjoyed that vodka last night Feliks."
"I can't tell if you're playing with me or if you're serious."
"Oh, I played with you last night Feliks. Today I'm dead serious and the longer you make me wait the more I want to do pushups, and burpees, and wind sprints, and mountain climbers, and planking," said Ianthe prodding Feliks with her foot every time she said a new exercise. She let out a startled high-pitched yelp as Feliks grabbed her ankle and pulled, making her fall heavily on her behind.
"OR, we can practice wresting," grunted Ianthe grabbing hold of Feliks' wrist and quickly putting him into an armbar. Bridging her hips upwards until Feliks tapped Ianthe's leg for her to let go.
"Now, you are going to puke," promised Ianthe.
"Mercy?"
"Mmm," hummed Ianthe putting a thoughtful finger to her chin. "Nope. You're going to vomit. Now get dressed or I'm taking your clothes and making you walk through the camp naked."
xxx
Desdemona inhaled deeply through the scarf covering her face and felt a measure of peace fall over her at the smell of the crushed pine needles in her hands. She felt like she was in her own private sanctuary as the wind made the leaves on the branches above her rustle as if sighing in contentment. Desdemona inhaled deeply from the crushed pine needles again, imagining that she was far away, deep in some ancient forest where no one could ever find her.
Charon had made a mistake when he had formed her, letting too much of the raw life force of the forest fuel her creation, without first converting it to his own. A mistake he had seen to remedy with his newest creations. She had been relegated to pack mule as his coterie of creations had grown, which was better she supposed that ceasing to exist. Though she was still expected to fight when Charon demanded and spread her legs when he desired, which was almost nightly.
Charon could feel what she could feel Desdemona was sure. Maybe not the exact words that she thought in her mind, but he could feel emotion. Intention. Perhaps that was why he was so rough when he entered and used her. He could tell that she did not want him in her.
Desdemona's pale eyes caught movement and she saw a squirrel darting its way through the underbrush. Crouching down and holding out a handful of nuts she stood immobile, the squirrel making its way over to her with quick, jerky movements. Bushy tail raised high as it zigzagged towards her.
It sniffed at her and then deciding that she wasn't a threat, the squirrel hopped onto Desdemona's forearm that she held in front of the nuts and began taking them from her hand. Eating with quiet crunching noises.
Desdemona smiled at the small creature behind her scarf, noting how its tiny paws gripped at her arm and how the fur felt on her bare milky white skin. Almost too pale to be alive. She wanted to stroke the squirrel's head and pet its fur, but she was scared if she did it would become startled and leave her, so she was content to just watch it eat.
"Kill it," came the curt command from behind her.
"My Lord?" asked Desdemona in confusion, looking back over her shoulder with her ghostly pale eyes at her lord and master Charon.
He never said anything, but instead held out his hand like he was gripping something between his fingers and blinding pain erupted all across her body. White hot and erasing all thought from her mind beyond wishing for the pain to stop. It stole her breath from her so that she couldn't scream and desperately she grabbed the squirrel with the hand that had been holding the nuts, crushing the furry creature into a red paste in an instant, tearing it apart when the pain refused to relent.
Even when there was nothing left to crush or tear of the squirrel the pain continued and Desdemona thrashed about in agony, finally finding the breath to scream which she did loudly. Tearing furrows into the dirt with her fingers as she spasmed in pain. It seemed to continue for an eternity, before just as abruptly as it had come it was gone.
It left Desdemona gasping for breath and soaked with cold sweat. Her muscles quivering from the trauma of what had just happened and with a shaky hand she pulled her scarf away from her mouth so that she could vomit out what she had eaten for breakfast with something approaching dignity, before coughing haggardly.
"When I tell you to do something," began Charon grabbing Desdemona by the collar of her tunic, making her whimper in fear, "You do it without hesitation. Okay?"
"Y-yes my lord! Of course my lord!" babbled Desdemona, pale eyes wide with fear, body trembling in terror and wanting very much to hide away from the apostle. She let out a pitiful whimpering wail as Charon made the gesture as if he was going to cause her pain again.
"Alright, just so we understand each other," said Charon cheerily, adjusting Desdemona's clothes so they were less disheveled. "Now how about a smile for me?"
Immediately Desdemona smiled wide and brightly for the Apostle.
"How about a frown?" and immediately Desdemona changed her expression to a dark frown.
"I don't like frowns," remarked Charon idly before roughly shoving Desdemona to the ground and walking away.
Desdemona's breathing was slow and labored as she adopted a fetal position and hugged herself tightly. She stayed like that until the nausea dissipated enough that she could sit up without feeling faint and her breathing was back to normal.
She no longer thought of getting vengeance upon Charon when he treated her like this, because it invariably just led to more pain so she instead just repeated a mantra that she had devised for herself.
I am still alive, I am unbroken. It doesn't matter what he does to me, because I will continue on regardless.
Desdemona didn't know why she still had hope, why she clung to her own existence with such determination, but the one thing that she did have was a desire to live. Maybe because it was the only thing that was truly hers.
She held up her hands, seeing them covered in the blood and viscera of the squirrel. Desdemona felt something like loss well up inside of herself and taking her hands she scooped out a hole in the dirt, before taking what remained of the squirrel and putting it in the shallow grave. She scooped a handful of dirt back over top of the hole and washed the gore off of her hands. Perhaps it was because her ears were still ringing from feeling as though her body was tearing itself apart that she didn't hear the boy approach her.
"Are you okay?"
Startled, Desdemona looked up and saw a youth with a bow and quiver slung over his shoulder. He took a step back as Desdemona's ghostly pale eyes locked with his own.
"Are you blind?" asked the boy, sounding concerned and reaching out towards her as if to help her up.
"No," said Desdemona, a prickling sense of dread settling over her. If this boy didn't leave and quickly and Charon found him, Desdemona let the thought fade away. Thinking about it could very well make it happen.
"But, your eyes," said the boy gesturing. He was perhaps 14 years old with thick, curly chestnut hair and brown eyes. Eyes that held a soul, not the pale nothingness that Desdemona's own held she thought bitterly.
"I was born with them as they are," said Desdemona, not exactly lying.
"Are you...a forest spirit?" asked the boy and Desdemona cocked her head quizzically, letting her long and silky black hair spill down past her shoulders.
"Why would you think that?"
"Well, your eyes are strange and you look...different. But you're, um, beautiful too," finished the boy, blushing as he said it.
"Why thank you, but I am not so fortunate," said Desdemona chucking before standing, then following the boys gaze as he looked at the puddle of vomit that had been the few grains of wheat that Charon had allowed her to eat.
"Are you ill?" asked the youth.
"I was, but I am better for the moment," answered Desdemona truthfully, before the familiar growl of her stomach sounded. Perhaps Charon would let her eat tomorrow? She doubted it though. If he only made her wait a day between meals then he would be being quite generous.
"Here, you should eat something," said the youth pulling some jerky from a pouch at his side and holding it out to Desdemona.
"I should not, it is yours," protested Desdemona, taken aback by the boys kindness.
"It's alright, you're hungry. Here," said the youth still holding out the meat.
The sweet smell of the meat and spices wafted into Desdemona's nose and made her mouth water and stomach rumble. She took the piece of jerky and nibbled on the end of it, her first time ever eating meat and gods it was good! How had she gone this long without having eaten any? She became almost like a ravenous beast, devouring the jerky and licking her fingers clean, desperate to not let a single fleck of spice or meat go uneaten. A pleasant tingling on her lips from the spices.
She could have kissed the boy in gratitude as he held out a handful more to her and just as quickly she devoured it, taste buds coming alive as she realized that the jerky was from several different batches that had each used a different seasoning, and a wedge of cheese too! Each bite a new experience, and every mouthful served to banish the gnawing hunger that was ever present in her belly. To finish the youth gave her a gourd of ale and she drank from it heartily, the bitter drink like sweet nectar and it served to renew the flavor of the meat. As she drank the last drop Desdemona felt content for the first time in her life, and deep gratitude for the boy in front of her.
"Thank you, I...am very grateful for the meal."
"When was the last time you had something to eat?" asked the boy, somewhat in awe of Desdemona's ravenous appetite.
"This morning I was allowed a handful of grain to eat. Before that? Three days ago I was given a loaf of stale bread."
"Are you alone out here?" asked the youth.
"Yes," answered Desdemona giving the boy a very literal answer. For in this exact moment in time, in this specific place, she was alone.
"Would you like to come back with me? Father and my younger brother are down by the river, and I'm sure that he would say yes. We have the room and food for you. The forest is no place for a woman alone. I can take you away from here if you would like."
For a moment, Desdemona allowed herself to dream as she gazed into the eyes of the youth. He was still young yet, but he would soon reach manhood and when he did she could give him children, stronger children than any other woman in Falmart. She would enjoy their coupling, because she would want it and she would cook and care for him and their children and he would provide for them. He had kind eyes and she doubted that he would beat her, indeed any touch would most likely be a gentle caress. The simple life of a farmer's wife seemed like a far away fantasy, but Desdemona wanted it now more than anything. It was like an all consuming fire burning in her chest so strong was the want, but it would only ever be a fantasy. Her destiny was not her own to decide, that and her in her entirely belonged to Charon. Still though, how she longed to just say yes and hide away on some farm, far from Charon and whatever he would have her do.
A cry of pain and fright echoed through the forest making the boy look towards it in alarm and Desdemona in mild interest.
"Father," said the boy in breathless urgency, before taking off at a sprint towards the sound.
As she watched him run off, Desdemona had a sudden compulsion to help the youth. He had been kind to her when he had no reason too. Given her food and drink and for a moment had let her escape into a happy world of fantasy. Could she not do something to help him as well?
Desdemona ran faster than any being on two legs had a right to, faster than a galloping horse as she overtook the youth and plucking him up as though he were no more than a bag of feathers with one arm.
The boy cried out in alarm as Desdemona carried them through the forest, leaping off of trees and over shallow ravines. As they approached the river, Desdemona realized that the youth was looking up at her with something like awe.
Desdemona stopped when they reached the river, coming to a stop with her foot cutting a furrow into the loamy soil as she brought them to a halt. Desdemona narrowed her ghostly pale eyes in disgust as the youth let out a wail of grief.
The youth's father was dead, of that there was no doubt. Torn limb from limb by the 'man' standing over top of him, arms red and ruddy with blood.
"Birsha, what are you doing?" demanded Desdemona as the murderer's ghostly pale eyes locked with her own.
"Merely going for a walk," said the bare chested Birsha grinning, his body looking as if it was sculpted from stone. Muscles looking more like pale marble than flesh beneath skin. He had noble features with broad shoulders, a square jaw, and long curly brown locks. Another one of Charon's creations, her brother she supposed, but she claimed no kinship with such a brute.
Charon would give them tasks, chores to accomplish and Desdemona always did hers quickly and quietly without making much of a fuss or a ruckus. Whether Charon wanted her to get money, clothes, food, or else something more exotic. Birsha was not so discreet.
He had been told to get an idol from a temple in a village and how had he gone about it? By burning the entire place to the ground and murdering every man woman and child that inhabited it. Gorging himself on their flesh and reveling in their misery.
"Have you brought me a snack, or is he just a cock to fill you Desdemona? No matter, I have my own snack, you may have your own," said Birsha holding up a squalling child of maybe 7.
"Thomas!" yelled the youth to Desdemona's side, rushing ahead, but stopping as he ran into Desdemona's unmoving arm.
"Let him go Birsha. Now!" demanded Desdemona, voice a harsh growl as Birsha made to take a bite from the child.
"Oh?" chucked Birsha in amusement. "Protecting a human Desdemona? How motherly of you. And what will you do if I don't?"
"I'll rip your black heart from your chest with my bare hands," promised Desdemona viciously.
"Oh. Will you now?" said Birsha, no longer grinning as his face set into a hard line. Tossing the squalling child to the side and began walking towards Desdemona. Hands rippling as if made of water and fingers extending with terrible crackling sounds until they resembled blades made of hardened bone.
"Stay well back from this," cautioned Desdemona and the youth made as if to draw his bow, but Desdemona cuffed him upside the head.
"Don't be foolish. That won't do anything," chastised Desdemona and the youth merely nodded, before stepping back to the edge of the treeline.
"You think that because you were the first that master made you're special? That you have rank? You're merely the experiment that was allowed to live so you could pull the cart and be a sleeve for master's cock," spat Birsha viciously. "You are nothing compared to me, I am the superior creation and you think to give me orders? I am your better!"
"Then prove it," said Desdemona. She leaped back as Birsha moved faster than a creation of flesh and blood had any right to, long bony claws sinking deep into the loamy soil where she had just been standing.
Desdemona flipped back into a handspring, avoiding another slash from Birsha's bony weapons, before jumping back into a tree and pushing off with both feet an instant before Birsha cleaved it into pieces with a splintering crash that sent splinters of wood careening wildly though the air.
Birsha turned to face Desdemona just as she delivered a savage kick into the side of his ribs that echoed across the small clearing far too loudly and sent Birsha crashing into a tree that snapped under the impact.
Birsha rose with a snarl, veins standing out like steel cords across his body in rage as he batted the trunk of the tree he had been flung into aside. In his anger he hadn't seen Desdemona move and she brought the heel of her foot down atop his head, nearly bringing him to his knees. As he looked up, a snarl on his face, Desdemona brought her elbow into his face with bone shattering force flinging him back.
Birsha rose, his face a bloody mess, but he was grinning as he clacked his blood covered claws together triumphantly. Bringing them to his mouth as he licked them clean.
"You taste good Desdemona. I think I want a second helping," praised Birsha as Desdemona gripped her bloody side with a grimace. Four gashes in neat lines sat just below her ribs on her right side from Birsha's claws. Staining her gray clothes red with her own blood.
He rushed towards her, claws held high and attempted to cleave her in half in a single blow, but Desdemona staggered him as with a cry of rage she brought the trunk of a fallen tree crashing down atop his head.
With a bellow of rage Birsha rushed towards her again, but Desdemona dropped to the ground, sweeping his legs out from underneath him as he charged, causing him to fall forwards heavily. Before he could rise, Desdemona pounced on his back, grabbing hold of his right arm and bending it back.
Birsha was hellishly strong, much stronger than she was by far, but his arm was not stronger than her entire body. Even though his body was not human, there was still ways that his arm could not bend, but Desdemona forced it to anyways with a wet snap. Pulling harder yet until bone broke the skin and she ripped it free of his arm. Let his flesh heal when there was no bone to heal around.
Birsha howled in pain and rage, bucking wildly and managing to throw Desdemona underneath him. She cried out in pain as he thrust his claws through her thigh, before pinning her to the ground by her throat.
"I'm going to rip you open from cunt to throat!" growled Birsha, apocalyptic with rage. Rage turning to shock and disbelief as Desdemona rammed the bone she had torn free of his arm into his neck, blood spurting from the wound the bony weapon had made.
In shock, Birsha brought his hand to his throat to stem the flow of blood as Desdemona's hand closed around a large rock. She shattered it against Birsha's head, stunning him and she pushed him underneath her, pinning his arm. She cut open his belly with Birsha's own arm bone and thrust her arm in. Birsha's mouth agape with pain and fear as Desdemona pushed her hand past iron hard muscles and around bone until she was elbow deep in Birsha's torso.
"Desdemona, wait!" cried Birsha in terror as her hand closed around his heart. She squeezed and pulled, a wet sucking and ripping noise accompanying her arm as it withdrew from Birsha's chest, still holding his beating heart. Birsha stared in disbelief at his own heart in Desdemona's hand. She crushed it into a meaty paste and Birsha looked at her as if unable to comprehend what she had just done, before the light went out behind his ghostly pale eyes and Birsha died.
Desdemona was breathing hard from both exertion and pain, clutching at her side, she stumbled to her feet, limping as she favored her injured leg, the youth and his brother looking at her in shock.
"You have to leave," said Desdemona, falling to her knees. "No," protested Desdemona as the two brothers rushed to her side to help her.
"You have to go, now!" pleaded Desdemona, grasping the shirt of the youth and forcing him to look her in the eyes. "There are more like him, like me."
"You'll die if we leave you," protested the youth. "Your wounds-"
"Are not fatal to me," interrupted Desdemona. The youth stared in disbelief as the gashes on Desdemona's side were ever so slowly closing and healing. No longer even bleeding though she had suffered them only moments ago.
"But," stuttered the youth.
"You have to run, leave this place and never return. Don't even return for your father's corpse. Just run, please, I beg of you. If he finds you here-"
"Who would be that he Desdemona? Surely you don't mean me?"
Slowly, Desdemona turned to where the voice came from, terror threatening to overtake her as her gaze fell onto Charon and at least a dozen of her brothers and now sisters it seemed. Several were newly formed ones that she didn't recognize, still naked. Very recent creations it seemed. All of them having the same ghostly pale eyes that she did.
"Stay back!" threatened the youth, nocking an arrow on his bow.
"Oh how adorable, he thinks he can kill me with that," chuckled Charon. "I do have to give you credit though Desdemona, you're more capable than I thought you were. Birtha was stronger than you by far, but not smarter it seems. Oh how you made up for the difference in strength with skill brings a tear to my eye. Now drown these two in the river and we'll be off."
"I," mumbled Desdemona, fingers clutching at the soil beneath her.
"Come now," began Charon and a bow string twanged. The arrow burned to ashes before reaching him, followed quickly by the bow. The youth dropping it as it burned to cinders.
"Oh how spirited, I bet that you'll take quite a while to drown," praised Charon, before turning back to Desdemona and slowly walking towards her.
"We both know how this is going to end Desdemona, so why try and fight the inevitable?" asked Charon, the two brothers backing away from the apostle with the massive scythe resting on his shoulder. Desdemona rising to her feet.
"You're going to do what I tell you to, because I demand it," continued Charon, lightly grasping hold of Desdemona's jaw so she had no choice but to look him in the eyes. "The only difference is how much pain you feel before you do it."
Desdemona whimpered pitifully in fear as Charon brought his hand up in the gesture that could cause her indescribable pain any time he so wished. Pale eyes flicking fearfully to Charon's raised hand, before going back to his eyes.
"Now be a good girl and do as you're told. There you go," praised Charon as Desdemona turned to face the brothers silently. She grabbed both boys by the scruff of the neck, lifting them off the ground and walked towards the river, heedless of how they kicked or tried to break free.
She walked until she was waist deep in the waters of the river, before thrusting the two brothers below with a splash. They thrashed and kicked, turning the water around them to frothy bubbles, but neither could overcome Desdemona's inhuman strength. She thought about breaking their necks to make their deaths quicker, but Charon would know if she did. He would know and he would punish her, so she held their thrashing forms below the water, waiting for them to expire.
The younger brother was the first to go, his struggles growing weaker until they faded all together. The youth though fought on, his will to live truly strong. In the end though he was just a man, just a human and he eventually too succumbed.
Desdemona's vision clouded and she blinked trying to clear it, ripples spreading forth in the water flowing past her and she realized that she was crying. She let the two corpses of the brothers be carried away by the flowing water, biting her cheek hard enough to draw blood to stop herself from sobbing as she trudged back towards the shore.
"Good girl. Now, how about a smile for me?"
Desdemona collected herself and gave Charon a wide and bright smile, tears still clinging to the edges of her eyes. When they left, Desdemona tied her scarf around her face and brought the hood of her traveling cloak up, wanting to do nothing more than hide away from the world.
Xxx
Luella was humming happily as she picked some flowers, being sure to bury some of the seeds so that more would grow later. They hadn't had any luck finding the pilot yet, but that also meant that they got to spend more time in the forest, though the trail that they were following and what the locals were saying, it seemed more and more likely that Luella's drow, or dark elf cousins had him in their possession.
It wasn't a bad thing necessarily. Although the drow did practice slavery and were more accepting of base impulses within their culture, they weren't barbaric or needlessly cruel. Indeed, there were more similarities than difference between her people and the drow.
They had stopped for a mean and there wasn't too much time left before they would have to go, but Luella had eaten quickly so that she could explore. Feliks didn't like her going off on her own, but there was so much to see here. The plants, the birds, even the bugs were different than from back home, though she had to stop Ser Hops from eating everything that she collected.
He was much fatter now than when Ianthe had given him to her and true to her word, Ianthe had gotten her a rabbit with white feet that looked like socks. His larger appearance was a result of Luella lavishing him with carrots, lettuce, and anything else that she had that Ser Hops would eat and he ate everything.
"No, don't eat the flower," admonished Luella, pulling the flower she had just plucked away from the rabbit's twitching nose. "You can have a carrot instead," offered the elfin girl and soon Ser Hops was gorging himself on a handful of carrots.
"Oh, you're pretty. You're coming with me," cooed Luella plucking another flower and putting it into a jar, then put it into her satchel pack.
"Well just a few more and we'll head back Ser Hops. Ser Hops?" said Luella again, noticing that the rabbit was no longer at her side. "Ser Hops come back," called the elfin girl, seeing the rabbit disappear into a bush.
She followed Ser Hops, cutting through the forest surprisingly quick fat rabbit. She bounded over fallen trees and picked her way nimbly though dense undergrowth, hot on the fluffy tail of Ser Hops.
"And got you," said Luella triumphantly scooping up the rabbit, having to dive under some low hanging branches to do so. "That was a bad Ser Hops. Bad," scolded Luella, before realizing that she wasn't alone.
"Hello," said Luella cheerily to about eight people of various races sitting around a cooking fire.
"Hi," said one of them unenthusiastically.
"It's nice to meet you, I'm Luella," continued the elf only to be met by silence. "Well I'm sorry to interrupt your dinner, have a good day."
"You're an elf right?"
"Yes sir I am."
"Do you know magic?"
"W-well, I mean I do, but I'm not really supposed to," stammered Luella.
"Euric here has a nasty gash on his arm. Think that you could look at it?"
"Of course," said Luella concerned, immediately heading to the one named Euric who had an arm swathed in dirty bandages. She peeled back the soiled linen and had to make an effort of will not to crinkle her nose at the smell that emanated from the infected wound. The flesh rotting in a black pus filled mass that stretched from a vicious looking gash that went from wrist to elbow.
Luella calmed herself and began to sing to guide her power and golden light enclosed the man's arm, him and his companions looking on in something like awe as she healed his arm. The gash closing as if it had never existed and the pus evaporating like ash blowing away in the wind. When Luella was finished, there wasn't so much as a blemish where the wound had been.
"That feels much better," said Euric, the bald man rubbing his arm.
"No problem sir, it was a pleasure to help, though you should have kept the wound clean. You could have lost your arm," admonished the elf. "If I may ask though, how did you get that kind of wound? Did you have an accident scything your fields?"
"No. I got it from a bitch who was too attached to her coin and wasn't willing to open her legs for me. I got both from her, but she got one good scratch in on me, before I opened her belly."
"O-oh. W-well, I should be going now," stammered Luella nervously, only to back into a solid mass of muscle, letting out a yelp as thick arms closed around her.
"I don't think that we're going to let you go anywhere elf," said one of the men seated around the fire. A man of average size with dark hair an a scar on his cheek. "The Empire is paying a lot of money for magic users right now."
"W-well I've got prior employment so I'm afraid that I can't go with you right now," said Luella with a nervous smile that faded under the severe expression of the man.
"I'm not asking elf. Tie her up," said the man.
Luella swallowed heavily as fear blossomed in her breast and she let out a nervous whimper as she saw one of the men from around the fire produce a length of rope. A youth wearing a woolen cap with tufts of red hair sticking out from under it and a bow slung over his shoulder grabbing hold of it and starting towards her. She wanted to run, but the man holding her was much stronger than she was and there was no way that she'd be able to break free. And he was so much bigger than she was too! Just like Boris.
Like a flash, the memory came to the forefront of Luella's mind as she remembered Boris making her practice with him. How he would grab her just like this and instruct her on how to get away. How they had practiced over and over until the veteran had been satisfied, and this man was nearly the same size as Boris.
Luella brought her booted foot up and stomped down on the mans instep, then driving her elbow back into his body, before letting her body fall limp and slipping out of his arms as they loosened in pain and surprise. The man cursed and grabbed at Luella as she crawled around him, his hand hooking on her jacket that she let him take, before rising to her feet and taking off at a run into the forest.
"BORIS! FELIKS! IANTHE! HELP!" cried Luella desperately as she cut through the underbrush nimbly, running quicker as she heard something much larger than her crashing through it. No doubt the orc that she had seen around the fire.
Something whistled through the air and impacted Luella heavily in the legs, binding them together and making her fall to the ground, scraping her arms on the roots crisscrossing the ground. She hissed at the pain, but made herself crawl forwards, pulling at the weighted bindings that had wrapped around her legs. She managed to get the binding off of her legs, but just as she managed to get to her feet she was tackled heavily from behind and brought crashing down again.
"BORIS! FELIKS! HELP!" cried out Luella again.
"Shut up bitch!" growled the man pinning her down and pain exploded across Luella's head as he struck her, bringing tears to her eyes. She tried to call out again, but the man covered her mouth with his hand, muffling her cries.
With snapping twigs and the heavy patter of boots, the rest of the bandits that Luella now recognized them to be gathered around her.
"Tie her up and gag her," growled a voice above Luella, that she recognized as belonging to the man with the scar on his cheek. Luella whined in discomfort into the hand covering her mouth as powerful hands grabbed her own and forced them behind her back, tying them together with an abrasive rope. Luella tried to turn her head away as the bag was brought to her mouth, but she was overpowered and soon any noise she made was just an unintelligible mumble.
"What if she tries to run away again? She's fast," said one of the voices above her.
"She said that she's with others. If there's a lot of them it could be trouble," said another.
"Then break her ankle so she can't run, and be quick about it."
"The Empire won't like a crippled mage. I doubt they'd pay anything for one who can't walk."
"She can heal herself later, don't worry."
Luella's eyes opened wide in fright and a strong hand grabbed one of her feet, pulling it away from the rest of her body.
"I won't run! I promise I won't! I'll be good, just don't hurt me!" begged Luella, her desperate pleading coming out as an unintelligible muffled babble. She saw one of the men holding a hammer, preparing to bring it down on her foot and she shut her eyes, not wanting to see it fall.
Two loud and sharp cracks sounded, echoing in the forest as Luella heard something moving fast hiss over top of her. Feeling the air as it passed her by, followed by two meaty thunks. There was a stunned silence for a heartbeat and then a cacophony of sharp cracks filled the clearing that Luella now recognized to be a Kalashnikov. She shut her eyes tight, wishing that she could cover her ears to blot out the sound.
Luella kept her eyes shut, until the gunfire and panicked cries around her grew quiet. She kept them shut as boots crunched through the twigs and stopped in front of her.
"It's alright darling, you're safe now," said a fatherly voice above her and Luella opened her eyes to see the veteran Boris kneeling above her. She felt immediate relief and quickly he cut her bindings and removed her gag. Luella then immediately buried her head into Boris' chest.
"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have run off on my own," sniffled Luella. "But Ser Hops ran off and I followed him without telling anyone. And I...and I," continued Luella, voice wavering.
"It's alright darling, you'll just have to stay closer to us from now on," said Boris tenderly, stroking her hair.
"I did like you showed me Boris, like we practiced and I ran."
"You did just fine," praised Boris.
"Up, move," ordered Feliks, grabbing hold of one of the survivors of the bandits, a man with a bald head and both hands high. He put him in a line next to the other two survivors, a man with a scar on his cheek and a shattered shoulder from where a 7.62 round hat hit him, and a red haired young man, that on closer inspection was actually a girl.
They bound their hands and spread them apart from each other, Feliks' men keeping their weapons on them should they think about trying anything violent. Feliks looked at Luella and his eyes hardened upon seeing her scrapes and bruises that covered her, as well as a small gash atop her blonde brows. He looked down at the prisoners in front of him like they were something unpleasant that he had just stepped in. Feliks suddenly feeling very much like his old self again.
"You know you attacked someone pretty special to us," said Feliks talking to the man with the scar on his cheek. "You also look like you're the one in charge so I'm going to start with asking you the questions. Why?"
"Money," spat out the man through clenched teeth.
"Really? Who's paying?"
"What does it matter? You stupid fucking JSDF," muttered the man, spitting on Feliks' leg.
"It matters, because I fucking asked you a question," growled Feliks and in a move that shocked even Feliks' own men, kicked the man onto his back and ground his boot on the mans shattered shoulder, making him howl in pain.
"Bastard," groaned out the man.
"A name," demanded Feliks.
"It's the Empire you dumb little shit! They're paying good silver for magic users like your little elf friend there."
"Good, now we're getting somewhere," said Feliks, ignoring the uncertain looks that his men were giving each other.
"Next question, are there more of you? Are you part of a larger group and do you know of more groups in the area looking for magic users? People who report back to the Empire?"
"I don't have to tell you Japanese shit," grunted the man, face white with pain.
"No, you don't," agreed Feliks. "But you'd be smart to keep me happy. Oh hello," said Feliks, bending down and picking up a small bug.
"See this little guy? Mean little bastard for being so small," said Feliks holding up the ant for the man to see.
"Got bit by one last week and it hurt like a son of a bitch. Damned thing left a welt the size of my thumb and usually where there's one there's a whole colony of the little bastards. Ah, right there," pointed Feliks to a tall mound of dirt.
"I can just imagine how awful it would be to fall onto one of those. I'm sorry, did I say something funny?" asked Feliks to the laughing bald man.
"It's funny that you gutless JSDF are trying to scare us," chuckled the man.
"Oh? Do tell," said Feliks quietly, walking until he was standing directly in front of him.
"You all act like you're all tough and scary bastards, but it couldn't be farther from the truth. I gutted a bitch in front of one of you and all I had to do was let go of the knife and you couldn't do a fucking thing to me. Japanese don't have authority to hold me since I'm not a citizen. I even got an apology from when I complained about the food."
"Did you now?"
"So now I'm going to say the magic words and say that I want to talk to your superior."
"Well look at that, you're talking to him," said Feliks making the bald man chuckle.
"Well if we're going to have a discussion I'm going to need your name," said Feliks dryly.
"Euric."
"Well Euric I'm afraid that you're quite right about the rules of engagement for the JSDF, they're quite restrictive, frustratingly so and the guidelines for dealing with prisoners are absolute."
"So let us go, you both know that you can't hold us. If you don't I'll tell your superiors how you abused Roderic and maybe the next time I see your little elf friend over there I'll rape her bloody and then I'll just say sorry again. And you'll have to let me go again."
"Hm," was all Feliks said, regarding Euric with two dark blue eyes devoid of anything, but hardening past steel when Euric threatened Luella.
"Well I suppose you're right Euric, the JSDF can't do anything to you, but I've got something to tell you that's pretty important before I send you off."
"And what's that?"
"I'm not fucking Japanese," said Feliks emotionless and in one smooth motion drew his pistol, holding it a scant few inches from Eurics forehead and pulled the trigger twice, scattering the bald man's brains over the ground.
Feliks' men jumped back, startled at the sudden killing and the red haired youth attempted to run, arms still bound behind her and Feliks shot her twice in the back, making her fall wordlessly to the ground.
"Lieutenant," said Vitsin nervously, the blonde medic clearly shaken.
"All around defense Soldier. Now!" growled Feliks and his men jumped to obey, Boris looking on with an uncertain look on his face. Unsure whether to stop the young officer, or even if he could.
"Well Roderic, just me and you now," said Feliks grabbing hold of the injured man and dragging him towards the anthill, making him grunt and curse in pain.
"Now tell me if there's more of you," demanded Feliks.
"Fuck you, you murdering piece of shit!"
Without a word, Feliks put his boot through the anthill, collapsing it and causing a black skittering mass of angry ants to burst forth from the remains. A swell of black chitin crawling over each other. Feliks kicked the man into the mass of ants, holding him down with his boot. The man began to scream terribly in agony as Feliks held him down.
"Are there more of you?" asked Feliks calmly, loud enough so that they man could hear him over his own screams.
"NO! BY THE GODS NOOO!"
"Are there other groups around here? A larger camp that you came from maybe?"
"NO! PULL ME OUT! PULL ME OUT!"
"Are you sure?"
"YES!"
"Are you lying to me?"
"NOOOO!" bawled the man, half mad with pain as the ants bit and clawed him, traveling inside his clothes and biting him as they swarmed.
"Alright, I believe you," said Feliks, then shot the man twice through the back of the head and making him fall silent.
A low and pitiful moan from the red haired girl laying in a growing pool of her own blood stole Feliks' attention and he started towards her, pistol held low.
"P-please m'lord! I-I don't want to die," half sobbed, half groaned the girl as she tried to crawl away from Feliks, face white from pain and blood loss.
"Well we don't all get what we want," said Feliks raising his pistol towards the girl who let out a terrified whimper, stopping in surprise when it was the petite elf Luella who was blocking his shot, holding her arms out to her sides like a shield.
"That's enough," said Luella sternly, purple eyes resolute.
"Move Luella."
"No," said the elfin girl firmly. "This isn't fighting Feliks, it's murder. They can't fight back anymore and there's no reason for this! No reason at all!"
"They were going to break your leg and make you a slave Luella. That one was gong to rape you," said Feliks pointing to the dead Euric. "Would be raping you if we hadn't come along."
"But it didn't happen. You don't need to kill anyone else, there's no point to it. I won't let you kill anyone else, so if you're going to keep killing, you're going to have to start with me."
Luella stared down Feliks and the Soviet officer relented, holstering his pistol and the blonde elf turned to the dying girl on the ground behind her and began to sing, encasing her in golden light. The bullet wounds closing and healing. The red head girl's green eyes opening wide in shock and disbelief.
"Gods bless you m'lady, bless you," said the girl in a hiccuping sob. "I never meant nothing by what I did! I swear by all the gods that I didn't! I...I…" continued the girl, her voice wavering.
"Shh, it's alright. All is forgiven, don't trouble yourself with thoughts of it anymore," said Luella gently, holding the girl's head against her breast and stroking her hair.
"Everything is all going to be okay now. No one is going to hurt you anymore, I promise. You're safe now. What is your name?"
"G-Gelvira m'lady."
"What a beautiful name Gelvira. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl. Here, I'll untie your hands for you. There there, let it out," cooed Luella as the girl sobbed into her chest.
"I'm so sorry m'lady, I didn't mean to," said the girl again.
"It's alright Gelvira, come along now, we'll get you something to eat and a clean set of clothes to get into. Luella stood with the red haired girl, still clutching onto her arm as if for safety. Cringing and almost trying to disappear as they passed by Feliks.
Luella stopped as they passed by the orc, the large warrior still drawing quiet, but haggard breaths. His arm had been torn free from concentrated fire and his body was peppered with bullet holes, covering his entire chest in crimson. His eyes glazed over and unseeing.
Luella knelt down beside the dying orc and stretched out her hands, beginning to sing and once again golden light filled the clearing. The high and clear notes of her voice rebounding through the forest. When the last not of her voice died away, a small patch of flowers had bloomed around the orc, who held up his newly reformed arm in something like amazement. Flexing it and watching the appendages move.
"Goddeukuk," said the orc in wonder, pushing his head into the dirt at Luella's feet in submission and reverence.
"No, not a goddess, just Luella. Come, we'll get you something to eat. Kjani," said Luella cheerily, the guttural orc language sounding odd coming from her soft voice. The orc hesitantly taking the petite elf's small hand with his own giant one. Letting her lead him and Gelvira back to the Soviet camp.
xxx
"I still don't know why we had to bring her," grumbled Tuka, giving the dark elf Yao a sideways glance.
"Be nice Tuka, remember what I taught you," said Itami, finding that playing the role of the elf's dead father increasingly difficult. Both in making the charade believable enough to not give the elf headaches and also morally.
The way she looked at him, with such love and adoration in her eyes that he knew belonged to another. To a man who had raised her that was no longer alive. A man that he was now pretending to be.
"You're right," agreed Tuka with a sigh. "You're always saying how we have to be nice to our Drow cousins...even if she is a bitch," muttered the blonde.
"Tuka," said Itami reproachfully, making Tuka hunch her shoulders.
"But she told lies father. Terrible lies! She said that you were dead, that I was only fooling myself. But you're not dead father! You're not, you're right here. You're still with me, just like you always said you would be," finished Tuka in a murmur her eyes glistening with tears, grasping onto Itami's arm and hugging it close to her. Making guilt crawl its way through the Japanese officer.
He stroked Tuka's golden hair and she sighed in contentment, hugging his arm closer to herself.
"She said that you were gone, but you'd never leave me, would you father?"
"Never," said Itami, watching her blue eyes light up with joy and Tuka buried her head into his shoulder.
"I know you wouldn't, which is why I don't mind who comes with us. So long as you're with me I'm happy. I'm sorry I cursed father, I know that you dislike such crudeness."
"It's alright Tuka, I forgive you. Just don't do it again."
"Alright father," mumbled the forest elf, giving Yao a scathing look, before clutching Itami closer to herself possessively, then slowly falling asleep. It was a gradual sleep, with her blinks slowly becoming longer and her breathing slowing until her eyes closed and her body relaxed. Tuka always becoming drowsy whenever she rode in a vehicle. Soon she was breathing softly, her breath warm against the side of his neck.
"I should not have been so cruel to her," said Yao quietly. The silver haired dark elf sounding as morose as she appeared half the time, though Itami supposed it was hard to appear cheerful when your people were being devoured.
"No," agreed Itami. "But we would have to address this one day regardless. The longer that this goes on, the worse it will be for her in the end. Hey Lelei, how's the driving going?"
"Very well," said the demure mage in her her ever calm tone. Though she didn't show much emotion, a byproduct of her training to master the mystical arts, she enjoyed driving immensely and Itami was more than happy to let her take a turn behind the wheel.
They were going to the refuge of the Dark Elves as Yao had called it. Not their primary home by any means, but a rocky fortress connected by a series of caves and set into a great gorge with only narrow paths leading to the entrances. A place where Yao's clan would go when threatened by war, or in this case a fire dragon. The only problem being was that although it had provisions to withstand a siege, they were not indefinite and they had not been stocked up beforehand as there had not been much prior warning of the fire dragon descending upon them.
Hunting and foraging was also hard in this region, being in the badlands of Elbe where little grew and there was even fewer game to be had for hunting. What there was to eat was being continually reduced to ash by the fire dragon. Gathering supplies was also becoming increasingly dangerous as the Dragon had taken to attacking caravans that were meant to bring food to the dark elves.
"How much father until we reach your people?" asked Itami.
"Not far. I would normally say a day of traveling on horseback, but with this," said Yao trailing off and shrugging her shoulders.
"I hope that we find that fire dragon sooner rather than later," interjected Rory, licking her lips hungrily. "The thought of doing battle again with such a creature is enough to drive a girl mad."
"Well we did come here for that," said Itami airily. Not looking forward in the slightest to having to fight the dragon again, though he had brought enough explosives to blow up a mountain with him.
"Dust," said Lelei pointing.
Itami looked out the windshield, following her finger and saw that there was indeed a great cloud of dust rising into the air in the distance. The kind of dust trail that a vehicle would leave. In fact a very similar one to the kind that they were leaving.
"Hey Lelei, pull up over there," said Itami and the young mage calmly nodded, bringing the HUMVEE to a stop by a low ridge.
Itami exited and crawled to the top, grunting in annoyance as rocks jabbed and poked at him as he clambered up over the side. His stealthy attempt rendered moot as Rory merely leaped to the top of the incline, before laying down beside him.
Itami looked through his binoculars, but he didn't really need them to see what was approaching. Hundreds of tanks, trucks, and armored vehicles stretched across the horizon. It looked like a whole damned division was coming right down on top of their heads.
Itami sighed wearily.
"Well this just keeps getting better and better," muttered the Japanese officer bitterly.
xxx
Desdemona trudged along the mountain path, following Charon and her brothers and sisters. All of them creations of the apostle. All of them having the soulless eyes with no color beyond a gray so pale as to appear almost white on first glance and the pupils of their eyes, supposed to be black hardly any darker than the near white of the rest of their eyes.
They no longer had the cart with them, which meant that Desdemona no longer needed to pull it, all of them instead carrying a rucksack filled with what they needed, but more importantly, what Charon wanted. In addition to Desdemona's good fortune with the cart, Charon no longer demanded to enter her on a nightly basis, his attentions having instead turned to Desdemona's new sisters, all eager to serve their master.
Desdemona only allowed him to do as he wished with her, because she feared him too greatly to refuse. Though her eyes may be different than those brought into the world of natural means, they did come with abilities that others lacked. They allowed her to see magic when she focused her mind on it. It was because of this ability that she knew that to oppose Charon would be more than suicide, it would be eternal damnation. He was like a dark mountain of power, monstrous to behold and utterly terrifying. Should he so choose to, he could reshape the very land around them in an instant, conjure up armies of the undead, and wreak untold woe.
Her stomach had long since emptied of the jerky that the youth had given her a week ago with little to replace it and now she had a dull ache in its place instead.
Desdemona cast her gaze off the edge of the path they were walking on and to the badlands below, the river cutting its way through like a blue gash. One of the few things that the fire dragon couldn't burn away. They had left the forest and most of what they encountered now were rocky badlands of Western Elbe. They were growing close to where Hardy had awoken the fire dragon, and the next stop on Charon's list.
"You were the one that killed Birsha, weren't you?"
Desdemona looked to the figure who had spoken, one of Charon's newer creations, but one that she couldn't quite remember the name of.
"I did."
"I liked Birsha," said the man and pushed Desdemona, or rather struck her with hard, bony protrusions that covered that man's arm, serving as both weapon and armor.
Desdemona's eyes opened wide in surprise and pain as she was pushed off the path and began tumbling down the side of the mountain. The force of the blow shattering the bone in her right arm.
She bounced off of the hard rock and broke through stunted shrubs that grew out from the side of the mountain, pain coursing through her body with every impact on jagged rock. Her face went white with pain as she hit a stony outcropping at an awkward angle with her arm underneath her, the same arm that had broke when her 'brother' had hit her.
Her ankle was next, catching in a crevice as she tried to slow her fall, twisting her around and with a sickening crack she was once again tumbling down. The femur on her leg that Birsha had stabbed through breaking as it had not yet fully healed when she fell another 300 feet before landing on it, on solid rock. The platform breaking free as she hit it and sending her once again falling down to the waters below.
She hit the river with a mighty splash, but it may as well have been hitting concrete to her damaged body. She sank beneath the fast flowing water, getting pushed down and pulled by the current. The pack on her back weighing her down.
Desdemona's lungs allowed her to hold her breath far longer than that of a regular human, but even her body had its limits. Eventually her vision began to gray and darken, the edges closing in as she drowned. A part of her whispered that it was a fitting punishment for what she had done and told her to welcome the embrace of death. Just a few moments more and it would be over.
No. The word echoed throughout Desdemona's being with startling clarity and strength. She wasn't going to die. Not here, not yet. She ripped the pack from her back, snapping the straps and forced herself to the surface.
Breaking it she took in a gasp of sweet air that filled her lungs, before her head rebounded off a rock sticking out of the water with a meaty thunk sending her spinning around her as her vision dimmed and she was forced back under again. Yet once again Desdemona clawed her way to the surface, kicking with broken legs and pulling with a broken arm. Even though the pain was excruciating, it was nothing compared to what Charon subjected her to when he so chose to.
She didn't know how long she struggled against the river, or how many times she went below the water, only to come to the top again, but it seemed like an eternity. Were she properly fed and rested, she could have at least used her inhuman strength to its full ability, but being kept near continual starvation had sapped her strength. Drained her ability to heal rapidly. Yet, it had not drained her desire for life and she clung to it with all the vehemence of a rabid beast.
Eventually, the river slowed and Desdemona used the last of her strength to pull herself to shore, clawing her way up through the mucky sludge with one pull of her good arm at a time. Fingers digging into the ground and pulling herself forwards like a snail inching itself forwards.
Panting heavily, covered in muck and gashes, Desdemona finally didn't have the strength to go any farther. She needed rest, but more than that she needed food else she would die. Yet, her vision faded and her eyes became heavier. Desdemona had meant to blink to clear her eyes, but the instant the lids closed, she fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.
When she woke again, she gazed up into brown eyes and for a moment she believed that it was the youth she had drowned in the very river that had tried to claim her as its victim. But that was wrong. This was a man fully grown and his hair was blonde and short, not brown and curly. He seemed taken aback by her ghostly pale eyes and said something in a language that she didn't understand to the men around him. All dressed in clothing mottled in color and carrying strange objects of wood and metal in their hands as if they were weapons.
Desdemona realized then that she wasn't feeling pain and her thoughts were unusually clouded, her body feeling warm. Had they drugged her? She tried to move weakly, but she was tied down to a stretcher, her broken limbs splinted and gashes bandaged.
They picked her up in the stretcher and carried her away from the water's edge. Desdemona felt consciousness leaving her again and she chose not to fight it, choosing sleep instead. What would come would come.
AN: Well that took up a decent amount of words to do. I had intended to put a few more scenes in, but I have a habit of doing too many short scenes so I cut a few out and lengthened some of the others.
Leave a review and tell me what you liked, what you didn't, and what you would like to see more of and if you liked Desdemona's POV or if you'd like to only observe her from the outside.