Matsuho sat comfortably on a high-backed chair, as she watched with barely contained glee, as her new hands were being trained. She had gotten what she had wanted; five of the finest assassins in the mortal plain. They were quite skilful for humans, at times giving even her best warriors a run for their money.
'They will make excellent weapons.' She mused as one of the newly acquired assassins slammed a burly soldier into the ground with great force. Her musings were cut short when one of the servants stepped out of the shadows and handed her a letter.
Glee turned to rage in an instance, creating a dense, oppressive atmosphere. The hair on the backs of heads rose instantly, causing many to cower in fear.
Crushing the letter in a fit of rage, she left in an eruption of green flames. For several minutes, the flames lingered, along with the oppressive atmosphere. No one knew what to do, every inch of their being was screaming at them to run and never look back.
War raged across blood-soaked sands, as Matsuho forces clashed violently with Shukaku's. Three long days the battle raged: through scorching hot days and freezing cold desert nights.
The defenders fought with great ferocity and determination, making the aggressors work for each inch they took. Steel clashing against steel, projectiles of different sorts cast shadows as they rained down. The sand being saturated in demonic blood.
High above the battlefield dark clouds slowly began to form, spreading steadily outwards casting its shadow over the ground below.
A Shukakian backed handed her opponent with her battered shield, swiftly bring her blade down, almost chopping the soldier in half. Drawing in a quick breath, she turned to engage another in battle, when she noticed both sides stopped fighting, heads tilted upwards. Following their gaze, she watched with guarded eyes as the dominating dark cloud spread overhead.
The temperature dropped rapidly; she watched as her breath turned into condensation. An unnatural chill rippled through her body, causing her already heightened senses to spike.
"This isn't right." She muttered; eyes fixated on the rolling mass of black above. A low rumble echoed through the air, followed by several more. Then silence.
A thunderous bang erupted outward, sending a soundwave speeding through the air. Flashes of emerald, green light permeated the dense cloud. The surrounding air became charged with power. A second, far louder explosion erupted along with a flash of blinding light.
Desperately shaking her head to clear her obscured vision, she stumbled into somebody, clutching a hold the smooth fabric. In an instance an ice-cold hand grabbed her by the throat, lifting her off her feet with easy. The fingers squeezed unrelenting, cutting off her air flow. Franticly she clawed at the figure in front, hopelessly pushing the other away. The last sound she heard over the rushing of blood, was a disgruntled grunt, then swiftly succumbing to darkness.
Matsuho unceremoniously let the limb body fall, turning her attention to the cowering soldiers. Eyes shining with power, a rush of wind flowed towards her as she raised her hands above her head. Many of Shukaku's forces began to flee, dropping their weapons, tripping over each other in their haste. A sadistic smile formed as she watched the rats ran for their lives.
Clapping her hands together high above her head; a flash of emerald light escaped through the gaps in her hands, everything suspended in time for a split second, then a blast of wind radiated outwards followed closely by an expanding bubble of Matusho's chakra.
The bubble of chakra expanded relentlessly, solidifying the blood-soaked sand, instantly killing the fleeing men and women, leaving behind only charred remains, stuck forever in their dying pose.
Barely giving the destruction she caused a second glance, turning on her heel, she left, making her way towards the First Hold Capital.
Nathill tossed and turned muttering under his breath, as images raced through his mind.
A barren land stretched out as far as the eye could see. The scorching heat of the sun, beating down on the unforgiving land.
A rumbling black cloud blocking out the sun.
Rain lashing down relentlessly.
A fountain in a bustling square.
A Dark, cramped passageway.
A statue of a women holding a large jug.
"Nath." Hearing his name, he bolted upright, cold sweat running down his body, breathing laboured. His mother cupping his face, eyes shining with worry. "Nightmare?"
"M'fine." Pulling back, making a move to get out of bed.
"Should I call Jonas?"
"NO!" instantly regret flooded his chest at the abruptness of his answer. "No. It's fine." Putting on a clean undershirt. "He has enough to worry about." Keeping his back to his mother, feeling her eyes searching his soul.
"You would tell me, if something was wrong?" the worry only a mother could have, made his heart clench.
"Of course, I would." The lie so blatant, neither one naive enough to believe it. A stilted silence filtered between the pair, not knowing where to go from there.
"I best go and see everyone." He muttered, leaving the room, steps faltering as he caught the tail end of a heavy sigh. Pushing the pain down, he followed the sound of hushed voices.
Tucked away in a spare room were the others, heads close together, whispering, agreeing, and disagreeing.
'Somethings never change.'
"You're awake." Stated Pala, pulling the older male from his thoughts. Seeing them make space for him to sit, shooting them a smile in return, he made himself comfortable. Immediately feeling a pair of eyes burning holes into the side of his head, stupidly he locked onto the young medics. Just like his mothers, searching his soul.
"How did you sleep?" suppressing an exacerbated sigh, Nathill repeated what he told his mum a few minutes ago.
"I slept fine." He said, forcing his tone to stay neutral. "My old bed is lumpier than I remember." He noted the slight hardening of Jonas's eyes at his response. Both Pala and Sera watched the exchange, noticing the younger males' eyes pinching at the side. Pala gave Sera a subtle nudge, understanding she commented.
"A step up from sleeping on the cold uneven ground." That broke the tension that swirled around the pair. Nathill broke eye contact first, turning his attention to the others; after several seconds he could no longer feel the pair of eyes boring into his skull.
"What were you discussing?"
"Our next course of act-." soft knocking cut Pala off, instantly everyone froze. All focusing on the door, sparing a quick glance, everyone rose to their feet stealthily, unsheathing their weapons, finding suitable hiding spots. Sera and Nathill walked up to the door, reaching it, Nath wrapped his spare hand around the doorknob, while hiding his blade behind his back. Receiving a curt nod from Sera, he turned the handle, opening the door just enough to see who was on the other side. He was meet by an amused Matriarch.
"Dinner will be ready in five." She informed him, turning back towards the kitchen. As soon as she was out of sight, he closed the door with a soft click, letting out a sigh.
"I suppose you heard that." Turning around, watching as the others put the room back to normal.
"I hope it's not beet stew again." Mumbled Pala, absently rubbing her stomach. "I've had stomach aches since last night."
"I told you to take that remedy." Stated Jonas, in a 'I told you so' tone.
"I don't care." Piped up Sera, heading back towards the door, "I've missed having a home cooked meal." Pala jogged to catch up with the other female, looping their arms together, disappearing down the corridor.
A stilted silence settled over the remain pair, the feeling of being watched returned.
"Are you going to cut out the bullshit and tell me how you really slept?" cut through the medic's voice, his tone holding a hard edge. The air became charged.
"Drop it, Jonas." His own tone mimicking the medics.
"I will not, Nathill." Stepping closer, "Not when you are hurting." Eyes tracing the trails of dried sweat that covered the others face.
Grabbing fistfuls of the male's clothes, Nathill shoved the younger man into the closest wall. Getting right into his faces, eyes hardened, teeth bared, noses mere millimetres apart.
"I said. Back. The. Fuck. Off." Tone low and dangerous. A staring contest ensued, neither willing to submit.
"Are you two coming." Asked the matriarch, halting as she came into view. Observing the scene before her, walking up to her middle child, resting a gentle hand on his arm. No one moved for several seconds, then Nath stepped out of the medic's space, eyes still locked. Finally, he relinquished his grip on the other, turning away, making his way out of the room. Jonas and the Matriarch stood there in silence, watching the other leave.
"Give him time." She said softly, resting a gentle hand on the others cheek. "He'll come round." A series of emotions flashed through the boy's eyes. "It's enough that you are there for him."
"I can tell he's hurting." Jonas whispered, "And I don't know how to help him."
"Ohh, my dear child." Her eyes as soft as her tone. "Like I said: It's enough that you care and are there for him."
"I act like I can fix anything." He breathed out, tears starting to show. "But I can't." a single tear slid down his cheek. "Not only is Nath hurting but so is Pala. We have nowhere to call home. Sera is barely holding it together as it is." More tears slid down his cheeks. "I-I-I don't know how to fix it."
"Ohhh, Child." Pulling the younger man into her arms, she held him closely, rubbing his back in a soothing manner. He clutched onto her that little bit tighter, absorbing a mother's touch. She in turn, was escorted down memory lane, as though she was holding her youngest once again.
"I'm sorry." Jonas muttered as he pulled away, furiously wiping away the tears. "I shouldn't've said anything." Leaving the room quickly, vanishing towards the bathroom, disappearing inside.
Leaving the youngster be, she returned to the kitchen, the sound of light conversation filled the room.
"Where's Jonas?" asked Sera, as she looked around. The matriarch noticed how her son reacted to the question.
"He went to freshen up." She replied, just as the boy walked in. The signs of his sadness gone from his faces, except the redness of his eyes.
"Why the hell are your eyes red?!" called out Pala as the youngest took his seat opposite.
"I got soap in them." Giving her an easy smile.
"How?" bewilderment colouring her voice.
"I had an eyelash starting to irritate them. So, I went to get it out, forgetting I had my hands covered with soap." A laugh followed the perfect lie. To the others it was believable, as it was something he would do.
"Now you look like a Kyūbian." Retorted Sera, chuckling at the disgusted look he shot her way. From there the conversation followed a similar line of dialogue, until the empty plates were pushed aside.
"We'll wash up as you cooked, Ma'am." Politely stated Pala, as she and Jonas collected the used dishes, not two seconds later Nath and Sera began to sort out the kitchen. Ten minutes went by as the quartet worked in well practice ease; Sera was scrubbing furiously at a stubborn stain when muffled noises from outside caught her attention. Abandoning the pot, she peered out the kitchen window, straining to get a better look.
"Sera? What are you doing?" called out Nath as he turned seeing her leaning over.
"Shut up." She whispered harshly, everyone stopped what they were doing, making their way over to see what she was trying to look at.
"SHIT!" flinging herself back. "We need to hide." Fear creeping into her voice.
"What's going on?" the unmistakable howl of a demonic wolf filled the late evening air, followed closely by the approaching voices of the Matsuhoian guards, exiting the neighbors home.
"Fuck!" as if right on cue, his mother came into the kitchen.
"You need to find a place to hide." She instructed as she hurriedly hiding away evidence that there were more than two people living here. "Go!"
Not wasting another second, the four ran swiftly down the corridor, back into the room they previously occupied. Frantically they looked around, but nowhere was secure enough, loud pounding on the door caused them all freeze. Blood pumping loudly in their ears, as the front door was opened. Voices could be heard clearly as the inspection party was let in.
Jonas's eyes kept being drawn to his backpack that rested against the wall.
'What have we got to lose.' He thought, stealthily walking over to the backpack. With great care he unclasped the buckles, loosening the mouth of the bag, far bigger than previously.
"What the fuck are you doing?" hissed Pala, watching him mess around with the bag.
"Get in." was his curt reply.
"This isn't time for your stupid pranks." Chastised Sera, as the sound of the guards began to move about the living room and kitchen.
"For fuck's sake get in." with more desperation. "We don't have time to argue. Trust me." A menacing growl filled the corridor, getting ever louder.
"Get in." ordered Nath, as he moved away from the door making a beeline for the open bag. With a mere glance at the others, he jumped into the mouth, disappearing completely. The growls were getting closer, they were coming from the room opposite, not delaying any longer, the girls followed suit. The doorknob began to just as the last fugitive clambered in, sealing it back up. Mere moments later the hound came rushing in, snarling, and snapping its teeth.
Deep with the contents of the bag, the four of them sat haphazardly on top of each other. They could clearly hear the wolf moving around along with two guards as they searched the room. For several minutes, the quartet sat in tense silence, no one what to make even the slightest sound.
Time seemed to stand still inside the expanded space, seconds stretched what seemed like hours. Tensions ran even higher when the heard the guards' moving things around right beside them.
"Found anything?" asked a third guard.
"No Ma'am." They replied in unison.
"Then we're done here." Leaving the room, followed closely by her subordinates. The wolf however lingered, sniffing around the room. Catching a whiff of a strong scent, it followed the scent right to the bag; inside they could hear and feel the wolf on the other side.
'Don't try to get in.' desperately thought Nath as he willed the demon spawn to leave.
A sharp whistle echoed in the room, as a Matsuhoian came back to retrieve the wolf. The beast growled menacingly in reply, eyes narrowing at the other.
"Now." Commanding the beast to his side, not once breaking eye contact. Snarling at the man, it walked reluctantly to his side.
Relief washed over the fugitives as the sound of footsteps moved further away. Everyone gave let go of the breath they had unconsciously been holding the entire time. Pala relaxed back against Nathill's strong chest, letting the tension seep from her body. This lasted for a moment, when her gut began to churn and grumble, as subtly as possible, she rested her hand her stomach; eyes widening at what it meant. Desperately, she willed her body to calm itself down, but to no prevail. Mere seconds later, she let out a large, resounding fart.
Instinctively, Nathill shoved her off his lap, while the other two stared disbelievingly at her.
"Did you hear that?" everyone froze, not daring to even twitch a muscle.
"Yeah…It almost sounded like an explosion."
"Check it out." The same guards began to search the rooms again, while inside the bag, Pala had her hands covering her face, ears bright red with embarrassment. Several antagonising long minutes passed, the troops moving around the rest of the house again. Conditions inside the bag were worsening, as the smell began to make itself known. All four were trying desperately not to make any noise, while at the same time trying to escape the stench in such a confined space. Sera started stuffing her nose with tissue, passing some to her comrades.
Unable to take it anymore, Jonas loosened the top by a couple of centimetres, hoping some fresh air would help disperse the stench.
"Do you smell that?" the searching guards came to a halt just outside the room. "That wasn't there when we last checked."
'For fuck's sake!' mentally exclaimed Sera, giving her friend a dirty look. Scanning the contents of the bag for anything that would make the Matsuhoians leave. Spotting the small clay pot that sat resting against Jonas's foot, an idea popped into her head. The conditions were not desirable for what she had in mind, but it could be their only chance.
Nudging the Medic with her elbow, garnering his attention, once she had it, she pointedly nodded her head in the general direction of the pot. He watched her with confusion, watching he bob her head like a grain fed chicken.
'What?' he mouthed, none the wiser at what she was trying to communicate.
'Oh, for fucks sake!' breathing out the words, adding an expatiated eye roll for extra measure. 'The clay pot!' this time, pointing at the item in question. Following her finger, understanding dawned on him as he reached over to grab it. Nathill watched what the others were planning, instant dread and nausea wrecked through his body. Grabbing even more tissues, he shoved several in Pala's lap, before shoving as much of the tissue up each of his nostrils.
Bashfully Pala lifted her head, her face still beet red, looked around at what the others were doing. Getting the message, she soon followed suit, nodding her head in readiness.
Carefully Jonas got to his knees, running his index finger and thumb around the seal, feeling the lid loosen, he carefully slid the lid off. Instantaneously the foul-smelling concoction filled the confined space, overpowering Pala's dodgy gut. Everyone's eyes began to water, as they suppressed the desire to dry heave, taking in as much air as he could, Jonas gently blew on the substance, pushing the smell towards the opening.
"By the gods! What is that smell!" cried out one of the soldiers, as he hurried over to the window, throwing it open, taking large gulps of fresh air. His colleague was not that far behind him.
The sound of multiple footsteps came thundering down the corridor and into the room.
"There is that smell again." Stated the Matriarch, delicately covering her nose. "We haven't been able to find where its coming from."
"Well, I suggest you get someone to look into it." Supplied the lead soldier, as she too covered her nose. "It smells like something died."
"I will look into your suggestion, my dear." She replied, keeping the sarcasm out of her tone.
"Well then, we won't keep you any longer." Signalling for the others to leave.
"Of course, shall I show you out?" receiving a nod in reply, they followed her towards the living room, where she opened the door once more, allowing everyone to file out. She watched them disappear down the road, before closing the door, and making her way back into the spare room.
Walking over to the window checking the cost was clear, she shut it, locking it.
"It's safe to come out." She called out, looking around for where they would appear from. Sudden movement from the backpack that rested innocently against the wall toppled over, scaring her, grabbing the first thing that came to hand. Gripping tightly the shaft of the broom, she inched closer, raising the brush end higher, ready to attack whatever was trying to make its way out.
She gave a shout of surprise as Jonas popped his head out, she watched in stunned silence, as the young male wriggled out, dragging himself and some contents out with him. Jumping to his feet he turned to help Pala, then both helped Sera, each bringing more contents out with them; by this point it was Nathill's turn, the older women began to laugh. She laughed harder and louder, as her own child got his shoulders stuck.
"Open this thing wider!" he shouted, spurring the others into action. That just made the women laugh even more, to the point where tears were streaming down her face. The younger male saddled the wriggling bag, leaning over he shoved a hand either side of Nath's shoulders forcing the opening wider. The two girls hooked a hand around his armpit.
"On the count of three."
"One."
"Two."
"Three!" on the count, the girls gave a massive heave, a little too much strength as Nath came shooting out of the bag, skidding across the floor, coming to an abrupt stop in a crumpled mess. This just caused his mother to double over in hysterical laughter, clutching her side while clinging to the window seal.
"I don't see what's so funny, Mother." He asked indigently, heaving himself off the floor. She could not give a reply, as she struggling to breath. Deciding to ignore the cackling old lady, he began to tidy away the scattered contents. By the time they managed to get everything away, the Matriarch had calmed down.
"I'm sorry. It's just the way you four came out off the bag." A fresh laughing fit took over her, completely oblivious to the pinched look her son was sporting.
"What made it funny?" asked an intrigued Sera, wanting to know what had the women in stitches.
"It was like the bag was giving birth!" she managed, "Especially you, Nathill. That's how you were born!" A new wave of laughter caused the women to double over, tears steaming freely. It did not take much for the younger demons to be taken over by the infectious laughter. Nath did not know how to act or better yet, how to react to that tippet of information. Unable to do anything, throwing his hands up into the air, he left the room, laughter following him out.
Matsuho strode confidently up a rolling sand dune, reaching the summit, taking in the expansive capital that stood defiantly before her. Warning chimes echoed through the city, watching as they mustered their defences. She always enjoyed when someone railed against her.
A dark cloud swept in overhead, casting a menacing shadow on the land below. The sound of her army could be heard drawing closer; she was not concerned; it gave her the perfect opportunity to let loose before her soldiers had all the fun.
The groaning from the capital's main gate drew her attention to the force marching out to meet her.
"A welcoming party, how quaint." She mused, unfazed at the amassing soldiers spilling out of the city. It was not long before the defenders got into formation in front of the mighty sandstone walls. A small entourage of soldiers came riding towards her, deciding to see what they wanted, she gracefully slid down the dune, coming to an elegant stop at its base. Walking confidently towards the approaching party, smirking as their mounts reared back at her presence.
"You should take heed on how your animals react." She said conversationally, eyes locking onto a heavy armoured solider.
"And you shouldn't be soo overconfident." Snubbed the leader, a swagger in his walk. "You are severely outnumbered. You have no reinforcements." gesturing around them, Matsuho decided to play along. Looking around she said:
"You are right. I have no reinforcements." Nodding her head as she agreed with his assessment. "But." Looking him dead in the eye, "You are wrong, on two accounts."
"And what are those." With a subtle wave of her hand, the Shukakian rose in the air, the tips of his boots barely touching the sand below. A mere twitch of her fingers, he flew towards her, like magnets reacting together. His eyes widened as the bite of her blade ran through him, her cold slender hands gripping his throat.
"They are my moronic friend: I'm not the one out numbered. It is you." sharply twisting the blade. "Secondly, I do not reach for which is beyond my grasp. Like so many before." Snapping his neck as she withdrew her blade, allowing him to crumble to the floor. Snapping out of their stupor the remaining Shukakians charged at her, bringing their weapons down on the demon.
Unfazed, she skilfully defected and parried their attacks, killing them when the opportunity presented itself. Sheathing her blade as the last soldier fell, with great ease she picked up a fallen soldier, dragging the body towards the unattended mounts. Reaching the beasts, grabbing the reigns of the closest one, it gave a shout of fear, as it desperately tried to escape. All the other mounts fled, having enough, Matsuho yanked harshly on its reigns, demanding submission.
Snarling as the beast refused to submit, her eyes flashed green, the beast opal eyes mirrored the demons, calming down in an instance. Releasing the reigns, she chucked the corpse over the beasts back, then jerking her head in the direction of the assembled army.
A flurry of arrows and other projectiles shot towards her, with a mere flick of her hand she conjured a barrier. For five solid minutes she stood there, sand being thrown into the air from the impact of a vary of missiles.
Matsuho smiled gleefully, as a multitude of long, brassy sounds erupted from behind her.
'Finally.' The bombardment ceased, 'Time to start in earnest.' Taking the opportunity, while the defending force was gearing up to engage the new arrives. Dropping the barrier, she cupped her hands together, pooling her power into a single point. The ball of chakra grew rapidly in size, obscuring her from view, with a sharp twist of her wrists, it condensed to the size of her palm. Not wasting a another second, she launched the condensed chakra towards the capital, leaving a streak in its wake.
Slamming into the polished sandstone wall, erupting with an explosive force, blasting apart the wall, sending massive chunks of masonry and fire into the air. A shock wave travelled unrelentingly through the surrounding area, throwing sand and warriors alike. Screams filled the air as the burning masonry rained down on the city below.
Not bothering to wait, Matsuho sprang into action, charging towards the city. She cut down anyone that stood in her way, be it soldier or civilian. Most, if not, all the buildings around the site of the explosion laid in ruin, fires raged unchecked. Moving swiftly through the rubble, ignoring the charred remains that were littered about.
Finally, she reached the main promenade, the sound of thundering feet grabbed her attention, as a sizable group of Shukakians charging. Those on mounts came galloping towards her, sidestepping the arrows that whizzed past.
Reacting quickly, she leaned back, almost ninety-degrees, as the blade cut through the air millimetres from her nose. Flinging herself upright she twirled around, her blade slicing the hind legs of the beast, causing it to trip and fall, skidding along the floor. Not given a second's rest, the rest of the defenders engaged her with tenacity and furiosity.
Parring and deflecting each attack with fluid grace, cutting down each enemy in turn.
"Loose!" grabbing a hold of the closest soldier, she put them between the barrage of arrows, using the demon as a shield. Feeling the impact of the projectiles striking the body.
'That's what I call friendly fire.' she thought amusingly, as she hurled the body at the archers. A massive blade came slicing downwards, shifting out of its way, by the closeness of the blade, her reflection staring back. The blade was swung down if such force, the cobblestone below cracked and splintered. Matsuho twisted her body elegantly, reversing the handling of her blade, using the gained momentum, she swung her blade up, cutting into the unprotected patch of the armpit.
The warrior gave a sharp shout of pain, instinctively lashing out, Matsuho reeled back as the warrior's elbow smashed into her nose. Blood exploded from her broken nose, running freely. Snarling viciously, she made a sharp sweeping motion of her hand, then clenched it into a fist, the sound of snapping bones was like music to her ears.
Spitting on the crumpled corpse, turning to face the remaining troops, she suddenly staggered backwards several feet. Eyes wide with surprise, looking down in disbelief. There, buried within her torso, were at least a dozen arrows. Dropping to her knees, using a hand to brace herself from falling forwards. Gathering enough strength, she raised her head, in time for another arrow to streak across, hitting her dead centre of her forehead. The momentum of the projectile, caused her to topple back, hitting the cobblestones. The light leaving her eyes.
No one dared move or make a noise, a feeling of hope swirled round the defends. The prospect of killing the Purple Dragon herself, filled them with great happiness. A Shukakian steady drew his sword, cautiously walking over to the dead demon. His eyes moving constantly for any signs that this was a rouse. Still the body remained lifeless.
Gripping his blade with both hands, the sharp tip pointing directly at her heart, feeling his worn and tired soul, becoming lighter with each passing second as he stared down at the corpse of his enemy. He could not make himself feel anything but relief.
Drawing in a deep, determined breath, he plunged his blade down. His blade gave a jarring shake, his eyes widening in fear, as an elegant hand was gripping the blade tightly. Fear filled eyes met blazing emerald.
"No." he breathed out as he let go of his weapon, stumbling away. He did not get more than a couple of meters away when his own blade was plunged through him. Matsuho gave the shocked soldier a rough shove, watching amusingly as he fell forward. A smile turned into twisted glee as some of the defenders turned and ran, while others came charging at her once again. No longer wanting to deal with them, she unleashed a torrent of ethereal fire from her hand, relishing the screams of those who burned. Soon their screams and cries of agony dwindled down into silence. Ceasing her carnage, she proceeded to remove the embedded arrows one by one, letting them drop to the ground. Wincing ever so slightly as she removed the final one from her head, chucking it to the side in disgust.
"Mistress." Turning in the direction of the voice, seeing a company of troops jogging towards her.
"Commander." She said in reply, watching them come to a sharp halt, snapping to attention in her presence. "I see you have managed to catch up."
"Yes, my Lady." A hint of anxiousness creeping into her tone, awaiting the inevitable scolding.
"Excellent." Smirking slightly upon hearing the quiver in the others tone. "I want this city subjugated by nightfall Commander." Turning to continue her original course. "Anyone who resists. Kill them."
"As you command." Bowing respectfully, signalling to her troops to rejoin the battle. Paying the leaving troops little mind, Matsuho began to make her way towards the palace. Movement in the corner of her eye halted her progress, turning her head to search down the alleyway between demolished buildings.
A small child, no more than three or four years old, poke their head out from their hiding spot, clutching a stuffed toy. The child looked up with terrified tear-filled eyes, their face covered in blood and dirt. She looked blankly at the fear filled child for several seconds, before walking off, heading towards the palace.
Matsuho glared angerly at the gasping servant, as she squeezed his neck that much tighter.
"Where is the Steward?!" snarling menacingly, watching the life slip from his eyes.
"You're too late." He breathed out, clutching her wrist. "You'll never find her." Angerly, she tossed him across the room.
"Find her!" She bellowed, her troops jumping immediately into action. Having no other reason to stay, she left the throne room in a swirl of her kimono. Stepping out into the ruined courtyard, she came to a sudden halt, reaching deep into her clothing, she withdrew the amulet, thrumming with power. Her power.
Focusing on the piece of jewellery, she began to chant. Tendrils of chakra slowly seeped from the glowing centre, steadily picking up speed as they swirled around her. Reaching the climax, the tendrils of swirling energy shot upwards and outwards, passing through solid matter, searching.
"Got you." Smirked Matsuho, as the amulet pulse slightly, signalling Shukaku's pendent was located. "You're with me." Beckoning a handful of soldiers to follow.
For an hour they followed the trail, weaving through ruined sections of the city, the sound of fighting dominated the air. They encountered several pockets of resistance, dispatching them with ease. We were nearing the very outskirts of the city, where their amulet pulsed strongly then went silent.
"Search the area." Fanning out they investigate the area. The slums seemed desolate, for two hours they searched, turning up nothing.
"Get back here!" ordered a warrior, as he chased after a small child from a derelict building. The small child ran as fast as they could away from the towering man, colliding with someone, stumbling back from the impact.
Matsuho gazed downwards at the child that collided with her. Clutching desperately to their stuffed toy.
"We meet again, young one." A hit of amusement in her tone, as the child ducked their head, refusing to look at her. Chuckling at the child's antics. The amulet pulsed in her hand; the child's toy responded in kind. The soldiers moved to apprehend the child but stop when she signalled them not to intervene. Kneeling so she was the same height as the frightened child, hoping to become less intimidating.
"Tell me, young one." Her voice soft, eyes gentle. "What's the name of your toy?" The child merely clutched it tighter. "I don't want to take it away from you. I just want to look at it, that's all." A tiny growl filled the air. Matsuho chuckled lightly. "Hungry?" the smallest of nods was her answer.
"How about a trade." Holding a handout to her warriors, three ration bars were given to her. Holding the bars in front of her to show the child it was not a trick. "I'll give you these three bars, if you let me have a look at your stuffed toy." Conflicted with what to do, the youngster kept glancing between their toy and the food.
Putting two of the three bars into her lap, Matsuho unwrapped the bar, breaking a sizeable chunk off, making a show of eating it. It took every inch of her control not to spit the rancid thing out. Holding off the grimace that would have come when she swallowed, she proceeded to break another chunk off, handing it to the child.
Cautiously they inched forwards, glancing between the food and the scary lady. Getting within reach, the child snatched the offered food, retreating to a safe distance, then proceeded to shovel the whole thing in their mouth, covering their mouth with a hand, to stop any of it to fall out.
This process repeated several more times, till the child hesitantly relinquished their toy to the woman. Smiling gratefully, she rose to her feet, examining the toy carefully. The faint pulses of Shukaku's power emanated from within.
"Very clever." She muttered, with her hand coated in a green light, she pushed her hand into the stuff toy, extracting The Jewel of the Dessert. She stood there for several minutes turning the jewel over, examining it.
"Here you go, young one." Holding the toy out it to be taken. In a second it was taken out of her hand, being clutched tightly. "See to it that they are looked after." She instructed before walking back into the city proper, stopping for a moment, she patted the child's head awkwardly, then hastily left.
A crescent moon hung high in the sky above the Second hold, a sense of calm blanketed the city.
Nathill stared at his reflection in the window, as he stared out at into the night. Ever since he returned home, a feeling of unrest settled in the back of his mind. The gentle snoring of his teammates washed over him, bringing a stronger feeling of content. Glancing over at them, all three of them sleeping on top of each other; Sera's mouth wide open as she snored. Turning back to stare out of the window, he let his mind wander.
"Nathill." A soft, breathy voice called out, turning to look at his friends, wondering if they called out to him in their sleep. Yet, they remained in a deep slumber, clutching hold of each other that little bit tighter.
"Great." He muttered sarcastically, "Now I'm hearing things." Returning to his previous spot.
"Na-thill." Called out the soft voice, spinning around weapon poised ready, as he searched for where the voice was coming from. Debating whether to wake his teammates, but decided against it, as he slowly crossed the room towards the door, weapon still in hand. Carefully he opened the door, stepping out into the dark hallway. Slowly he took in his surrounding, the silence was deafening.
"Nathill." Again, the voice called out to him, realising it was coming from the living room. Keeping his guard up, he made his way down the hallway. Reaching the living room, it stood empty. "Na-thill." This time, it called out clearer, coming from the kitchen. Moving into the dark kitchen, just like the living room, it stood empty.
"I must be going mad." Dropping his guard, turning around to head back to his teammates.
"A little crazy, perhaps." Stated a woman, "But not mad." Spinning around weapon at the ready, his eyes narrowed at the cloaked figure sitting at the table, a steaming cup of tea before her.
"Who are you. And what do you want." He asked though gritted teeth, muscles tight, feet shifting apart. Every inch of his posture screamed: I will attack. The woman shook her head as she chuckled lightly.
"Isn't it a pity we live in such sceptical times." More to herself than to the man in front of her. "Though, I don't blame you." Reaching up to remove her hood. "This world has brought you nothing but heartache." Her voice soft, full of understanding and compassion. "Please sit."
Cautiously he moved towards the chair opposite her, eyes watching her every move like a hawk. Turning the seat in such a way, that if he needed to act, he could. She made no comment on how he was sitting, or why he still had his weapon in hand.
"Tea?" she asks rhetorically, waving her hand in the direction of the pot, spring to life, moving over to the table, pouring its steaming contents into the awaiting cup. Nath watched anxiously as the pot flew back to its original spot. "It's been eons since the last time I sat and drank tea in the company of Mortals." She said conversationally, sipping on her own beverage.
For the first time since their meeting, he got to look at her properly. His eyes widened in recognition.
"You're Her." He spluttered out. Both her eyebrows rose in amusement at his statement.
"Really?" she asked with amusement, looking down at her chest. "I had no idea." Mischief shown bright in her ocean blue eyes.
"You're the one from my dreams." he explained, feeling slightly stupid. Raising her eyebrows as she observed the mortal before her.
"I gave you those dreams." Taking a sip from her cup. "I thought that your lack of action, was a result of them being incomprehensible." Bring her cup to rest on the wooden surface, looking him dead in the eye. "So, I came here to give you a push."
"I don't need some God telling me what to do." Nath hissed out through his teeth.
"Then why aren't you acting on them?" letting his disrespect slide.
"Do you have any idea how many fountains there are in busy areas? It didn't narrow it down." He listed off, he stopped himself short when he noticed she was looking sheepish.
"I hadn't thought of that. Sorry." Scratching her cheek in embarrassment. "Well, I'm here now to help you on your way."
"How will you help us?" he inquired, a little curious on how much help she'll give, and what she classed as 'help.'
"There is a document, deep in the disused part of the cities library." She began, stopping abruptly, her head snapping to the side, slowly she rose to her feet. Deafening silence hung around them, nothing stirred. "You're running out of time, Mortal."
"I don't underst…"
"Get the scroll from the library." Cutting him off, the urgency clear in her tone. "It'll contain everything you'll need to enter my temple." Striding over to him, resting two fingers on his right temple for the briefest of moments then withdrew.
"I've already lingered too long." Walking backwards into the shadows. "Trust that you have the answers..." With those parting words she melted away.
Nathill jolted awake.
"We need to go to the library." Speaking for the first time that morning, refusing to make eye contact. Conversations halted, as all eyes were on him.
"Why the library?" asked Pala, between a spoonful of porridge. A small dollop rolled sluggishly down from the corner of her mouth. Without thinking about it, Jonas wiped it off her face with his thumb. "Thanks mum." She replied cheekily, a smile to match. He merely rolled his eyes at her.
"Why the library?" Pala asked again, pushing away her now empty bowl, leaning on the table.
"It's the best place to get any information we'll need for our task."
"Right." Said Sera, the sarcasm barely contained as she looked at him with a face that screamed 'bullshit.' "So, it wouldn't have anything to do with you talking in your sleep last night?" his head snapped upwards, his eyes widening in shock.
"Don't bother lying to us. We all heard you." Interjected Pala, leaning back with her arms crossed, catching his eye. Turning to look at the youngest Matatabian, who looked away from him, his face neutral. Letting a defeated sigh, he simply nodded his head.
"We'll need an airtight plan, if we hope to get into the library undetected." Voiced Jonas, with a pensive look, already formulating a plan.
"Perhaps I can help." Interjected the old Matriarch, taking a vacant seat. Glancing from one soldier to the other, landing on the youngest.
"Ohh no." nervously laughed Nathill when he spotted the medic's face light up. "This can't be good." All he received was a beaming smile.
The marketplace was a buzz of activity and enticing smells, as merchants of all types peddled their wares. The matriarch strolled leisurely through the throngs of people; her weaved basket full of fresh goods.
Inside the backpack she wore, four fugitives sat in silence, with a mixture of apprehension and boredom, swaying slightly.
"How much longer." Whined Jonas, the urge to fidget began to dominate, already his leg started to twitch. He always hated this about himself. He knew if the urge becomes too strong then he will ruin everything, and if that happens, it'll lead to their captures and swift execution.
Seeing the warning signs that the medics control was slipping, Pala angled herself, so they were sitting closer together. Without thinking she began to run her fingers through his hair, lightly scrapping her nails along his scalp. It took several minutes of the repetitive motion before Jonas seemed to relax enough.
"Better?" she asked softly, keeping the motion and pressure constant.
"Yeah." Feeling more in control, the urge was still there, but it did not feel like it was going to burst out at any moment. Everyone froze when the top of the bag opened, a small package was dropped into the bag, landing on Sera's lap. The warmth and smell radiating out from the package. Instantly recognising the smell, Sera franticly opened the parcel, there, sat four junaberry pastries. With gusto she shoved one into her mouth, passing the parcel to the others. Happiness filled their weary souls; something as simple as a baked good, helped lift their spirits.
Apprehension melted away replaced with contentment.
"I've missed those." Sighed out Sera, licking her fingers, pouting when she noted there were no more. Her eyes shifted over to the medic, who was eating his slowly, savouring every bit. He stopped mid bite, eyes locking on the pathetic sad look he was being shot. Deciding to mess with her, he shoved the remainder of the pastry into his mouth, eyes shining bright with mischief. The pout was in fall force along with being flipped off for extra measure.
Outside the contents of the bag, Nathill's mother walked through the ornate doors of the central library, her shoes clicking against the polished marble floor, as she navigated towards a secluded section. Reaching a secluded spot, after making sure they were alone, she removed the backpack lowering it to the floor. Checking a final time, she proceeded to loosen the compartment, allowing the inhabitants to vacate. After several minutes, the quartet were free.
"I'll see you all back home." Grabbing the bag, securing it on her person. "Be safe." She pleaded planting a chaste kiss on her son's cheek. Nodding to the others she left. Once she was out of sight the four moved carefully through the multitude of shelves, venturing to the older part of the building.
Clustering together Nathill handed each a small slip of paper, with a meticulously drawn symbol.
"Find anything with this symbol, no matter how breath or obscure the text is." He instructed, his voice low. "Spread out but stay close." With that they dispersed among the shelves of knowledge.
The sun sailed through the sky, coming to rest just above the horizon, bathing the everything in warm pinks and oranges. A mountain of scrolls and books covered the worktable where four Matatabians scoured through their texts, in search of what they need.
"I'm sorry to interrupt. But we're closing now." Stated a rich voice, Nathill froze, he knew that voice anywhere. "You can come back tomorrow." The person came to a halt, their eyes widening upon seeing the person sitting furthest away.
"Nathill?" against his better judgement he looked up, there standing before him was his ex-girlfriend. She let out a short gasp, instantly covering her mouth. "Is it really you?"
"Serina!" a male shouted from the across the room, footsteps echoing throughout the room.
"I'm here!" she called back, instantly the four were on their feet. "I'll be through in a minute, just tidying up some mess!" her eyes on the four weapons pointing directly at her. The footsteps came to a halt.
"Hurry up! We're supposed to meet the others for drinks!" feeling relieved as the other demon walked away.
"Thank you." Nath whispered not daring to raise his voice, noticing the others had lowered their weapons, but not put them away.
"None of you can be here." She whispered back looking around, "If you are caught, they will kill you."
"Can you help us?" he pleaded, gently taking her hands into his, slowly moving his thumbs over her soft skin.
"I'm sorry, Nath." Shaking her head, a single tear running down her cheek. "If anyone finds out I have even interacted with you, let alone helped you, I'll be executed along with my family." Taking several steps back, her hands slipping from his.
"I'm sorry." With that she turned, and began to walk away, not daring to look back.
A warm gentle hand came to rest on his shoulder, reaching up he held onto the offered hand, giving it an appreciated squeeze.
"We best hurry up." Pala said returning to her own pile of texts.
Deep into the night, the quartet decided to cease their search, they had not got any closer to what they were looking for. Stealthily they returned the documents to the shelves, insuring there was no trace that they were there.
A scroll slip from the pile Jonas carried, rolling across the marble floor, coming to rest underneath a tall bookshelf. Cursing under his breath, he deposited them, swearing even more as more scrolls scattered across the floor. Drawing in a deep breath, holding it to the count of three, then exhaling slowly. Walking over to the where the first scroll hid, dropping to his knees, reaching underneath, blindly feeling for the runaway scroll.
"Gotcha'." He muttered triumphantly, fingertips pressing down on the rough material. Feeling he had enough traction with his fingers, he walked the scroll towards him.
"Fuck's sake!" feeling the coiled paper spring away from him, hitting the very back of the bookcase. Bristling with annoyance, he laid flat on his stomach, ignoring the coldness of the smooth floor below, he reached in with his whole arm. Securing a grip on the runaway scroll, he retracted his arm, pausing when he caught sight of a carving etched into the wooden runner. Releasing his prize, he gingerly ran his finger pads over the carving, removing the layer of dust that obscured it. It flashed a golden colour for the briefest of moments, then muffled sounds of ancient gears began to turn. The sound seemed to resonate loudly in the quiet room.
"What did you do?!" hissed Sera, as she came running around the bookshelf, skidding slightly on the polished marble floor.
"I didn't do anything!" he hissed back, rolling away quickly as the bookshelf dissolved into the ground. As the bookcase disappeared into the floor, it revealed an opening shrouded in darkness; a cold gust of wind flew out from deep within the passageway.
"Didn't do anything, my arse." She mumbled, walking cautiously towards the newly revealed opening. What little light that permeated the passageway revealed it caked with dust and cobwebs.
"I'm not going to ask." Stated Pala as she stood beside her friend. "This place gives me the creeps." Shuddering at the thought of what's lurking in the shadows.
"You're not scared are you Pala?" Jonas playfully asked, slinging an arm over her shoulder.
"Of course not!" she replied stubbornly, shrugging the arm off.
"Not worried about the spiders and rats that call this place home?" joined in Nathill, receiving a sharp jab in the gut from her elbow. Chuckling slightly as he massaged the sore spot.
Taking point, Pala tentatively stepped closer to the newly revealed opening, concentrating on conjuring Twilight's light. A ball light shone brightly from with her palm, its rays burning away the cobwebs. Leaving the path ahead unobstructed. For ten solid minutes the quartet followed the winding staircase, the air getting cooler as they descended deeper. Soon they reached a large expansive room, bookshelves running from one end of the vast room to the other. Scrolls and dust ladened tomes filling every nook and cranny of the expansive shelves.
Multiple beams shot out of the orb of light Pala carried, striking the dormant torches and lanterns that littered the room. Warm light bathed the room, a feeling of calm permeated throughout. Faded murals lined the walls, ceiling, and the floor, depicting a multitude of different scenes. Splitting up, they once again scoured through the fountain of knowledge that stood before them.
Hours slipped by like grains of sand in an hourglass, all four of them surround by piles of dusty tomes and fragile scrolls, scouring the vast ancient knowledge. Nathill let out a satisfied groan as he stretched, enjoying the feeling of his stiff joints popping. Leaning back against the cool stone wall, resting his weary head against the wall, savouring the coolness seeping from the masonry, as it helped numb the headache that persisted.
Gradually he opened his eyes, gazing into space, allowing his mind to wander. His eyes began to jump from spot to spot, never lingering longer than a few seconds, his mind not registering what he observed.
"Slacking off, are we?" playfully chided Sera, as she made herself comfortable next to him. He huffed out a short laugh, as he made room for her. "I don't think I can take looking through any more of these dusty tomes."
"Then why do you have that, then?" he asked pointing to the scroll in her hand. Her brows furrowed as she looked down in confusion, which morphed into surprise.
"I don't know." Surprise prominent on her face and tone, turning the seemly innocent roll of papyrus over in her hand.
"Let me see." Sitting up straighter, Nath gingerly grasped the scroll and began to unravel it. The pair sat in silence, as the elder of the two, absorbed the contents. After what seemed an age, Nathill stood up, leaving Sera, his head remaining bowed. He stopped in the centre of the room, looking around as though searching for something.
"Nath?" she called out, her question going unanswered. She watched as he moved from one bookshelf to another, pulling out different tomes. Watching the tomes pile up, she rushed over to help carry them. Her arms began to burn from the strain of holding the multitude of text, her nose beginning to itch from the gathered dust. She mentally gave a cheer of relief when the final text was placed on top, desperately trying not to sneeze as a fresh cloud of dust drifted everywhere.
"What now?" she asked from behind the books and scrolls.
"We need a large empty space." Nath replied absentmindedly, his attention solely on the papyrus, returning to the centre of the room. Finally drawing his attention away from the scroll, he looked around at the space available. Happy with the space available, he beckoned over Sera, indicating where to deposit her load. Enthusiastically placed the pile onto the designated spot, then turning away as she sneezed loudly several times. A chorus of 'Bless you' followed immediately after.
"Thanks." She replied with a half-cocked smile, as she rubbed her nose. "What now?" she asked as she folded her arms, cocking her hip to the side, as she looked from her friend to the pile.
"We need to rip out certain pages and arrange them in a specific order." Nath stated as he grabbed one of the tomes, flipping through each page, before reaching the one he wanted, and ripped said page out, then carelessly chucking the tome over his shoulder. Sera stood there dumbfounded, not knowing whether to help or intervene in such vandalism. Biting the proverbial bullet, she handed him one tome after the other; this could be added to all the other things that they have done.
Sera watched Nathill fling a dense tome over his shoulder, watching it sail through the air, over on the bookcases, wincing when she heard a shout of pain coming from where the book disappeared.
"What the fuck was that?!" shouted out Jonas, emerging from behind the bookshelf, gingerly rubbing his head with one hand, while holding the culprit in the other. Pala on the other hand, seemed as though she was barely containing the laughter that threatened to burst out. "Who throw this?" brandishing the book menacingly, his eyes narrowing on the older male as he threw yet another one. "Right." Focusing all his anger and pain, the medic lobbed the book aiming it squarely at Nathill. The poor book hurtled across the room with speed.
Hearing Jonas speaking, Nathill turned to face him, the next thing he knew something solid collided with his face at great speed and force, knocking him off his feet, sending him tumbling back several meters. Hysterical laughter burst free from Pala, as she doubled over, clutching her side, Sera was no different. Jonas stood there, smugness oozing out of him as he watched his friend try to recover.
"Serves you right." Turning on his heel, walking over to a dust laden bench, and began to heal the massive lump that grew on his head.
Recovering enough to function, the two women headed over to their dazed companion, stopping a few times as they needed to grab hold of each other, to keep them from falling on the floor laughing. Reaching him, they burst out laughing, falling to the floor still holding on to the other, at the sight before them. Nathill sat hazily on the floor, an angry red mark ran up across his face, where the spine came in contact. His nose dripping with blood, a black eye forming along with an egg shape lump growing just below his hairline.
Once the incessive ringing subsided, the pain became prominent, hissing as he delicately touched his nose, feeling the warm liquid coat his fingertips.
"Are you two quite finished?" he hissed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Thanks for the help." He bitterly called over to the youngest, getting flipped off in return. Feeling clear headed enough, he carefully rose to his feet, once feeling stable, he returned to his original point, gathering the scattered pages and scrolls.
"You need to leave, Nathill. They are coming." Instantly recognising the voice, he acted.
"We need to leave. Now." He stated, picking up the last of the pages, clutching them tightly in his free hand. Hastily, they made their way over to a plain looking wall, instantly Nathill began running his hand up and down the wall, searching for the release. Faint footsteps echoed from the stairway, growing louder with each passing second.
"Hurry up." Whispered Pala, franticly looking from her teammate to the stairway. Without warning the room plunged itself into darkness. A hand was slapped over her mouth, muffling the shout of surprise, while another one gripped her arm, pulling her backwards. Both hands released her as soon as she was over the threshold. In a blink of an eye the wall rematerialized, separating them and their enemy.
"We need to get back."
An agent stood passively as a contingent of soldiers investigated the vast room, looking for any sign of who or what was down there. Neutral soulless eyes scanned their surroundings, taking note of an open book, moving silently towards the seemly innocent looking tome. Squatting next to it, picking it up off the floor, resting it in the palm of his hand. With great care, he flipped through each page examining every detail, pausing when he noticed a page was missing.
"Interesting." He murmured, as he ran his fingers down the fold where the page should have been. Flicking through the rest of the tome, searching for any other missing texts, yet finding none. Shutting the tome, he searched the immediate vicinity for any more clues. Not that far away, he spotted an area where the thick layer of dust and dirt had been recently disturbed. Raising to his feet, he moved closer, reaching the disturbed area, taking a closer look at the patch. Footprints could be clearly seen moving away from where he stood, among the imprints were splatters of a dark liquid, glistening like precious stones. Tentatively he ran a finger though a large splatter, recognising it was blood.
"Still warm." Reaching into a pouch that hung on his waist, withdrawing a small glass vial and a thin strip of paper. Removing the stopper with his teeth, keeping it secure, he dropped the strip into the splatter of blood watching it absorb the liquid. Unable to absorb anymore, he retrieved it and deposited it in the glass vial, securing the lid, placing it back in the pouch.
"Captain." He called out, garnering her attention. "I'm leaving."
"Very well, Sir." Bowing her head, "I'll send a missive if we find anything." He inclined his head ever so slightly before vanishing.
Moments later he strode through the upper part of the library, coming upon a massive ornate door, it opened with ease, continuing into an almost empty room. Situated in every end of the room, stood a desk, an elderly man scribbling away.
"What can I do for you agent?" he asked, his tone shaky with age.
"I need to know who this belongs to." Pacing the vial on the desk. The clerk picked up the vial, holding it towards the candle.
"I'll have what you need in an hour." Getting out of his chair, feet shuffling across the floor.
"An hour is no good to me." The agent stated, watching the man stop.
"Do you want this done properly? Or do you want it full of errors?" the old man was now facing him, one eyebrow raised.
"An hour it is."
"You youngsters never learn." He muttered as he shook his head, shuffling towards a plain looking door. The closing of the door echoed loudly through the empty space.
After narrowly escaping, the quartet followed the winding passageway what seemed like hours. Just like the room, the passageway had not been used for much time; the air was stale, the dust and dirt being kicked up by their hurried footsteps.
Their journey was cut sort as they came upon a fork in passageway.
"Which way now?" asked Sera peering down one of the tunnels, visibly shivering. "Not that way, it gives me the creeps." Shivering again as she turned her back to the opening.
"What about splitting up?" offered Pala, taking a moment to rest against a wall.
"Too dangerous." Stated Nathill as he leant next to her, "We're more likely lose each other in this labyrinth, than we would if we stayed together." Silence hung around them, as they decided on how to proceed.
"What's up between you and Jonas?" whispered Pala, as she watched Jonas and Sera doodle in the dirt.
"Nothing." Mumbled Nath, as he stared straight ahead, refusing to look at the pair.
"That's a load of bullshit." Giving him a hard look. "Whatever is happening between the pair of you, get it sorted, before it shits on us all."
"Jonas?" called out Sera, earning the pairs attention. All three watched as the youngest walked cautiously to the mouth of the left-hand tunnel, he was searching for something.
"We need to go this way." He called back, walking deeper down the passage, not waiting for the others.
"Hold on, Jonas!" called out Sera as she rushed after him.
"We better go after them." Sighed Pala, as she pushed off from her spot, not waiting for Nathill.
The elder Liberian shuffled back into the empty room, spotting the Agent meditating.
"I have the results." Placing a single sheet of parchment on the desk. Raising gracefully to his feet, the younger man walked over and retrieved the results. His eyebrow rose minutely once he absorbed the contents.
"You'd give up one of your own?" amusement creeping into his voice, as he looked at the old man.
"My job is to catalogue and store the genealogy of our nation. I will neither help nor hider you."
"Yet you have helped me."
"No. I've merely supplied you with what you requested." Sighing as he sat down, relishing the feeling of support on his weary joints. "What you do with that information, is down to you." With a final look, the chronicler returned to his work. Recognizing a dismissal, the agent bowed respectfully to the elder, turning he left the room. As soon as the door clicked shut, he vanished, reappearing mere seconds later in a well-kept kitchen. Stretching out with his senses, he concluded that he was alone; taking what time he had, he began his search.
"Will you wait up Jonas!" called out Sera, grabbing him by the arm, after finally managing to catch up.
"Get off Sera!" pulling his arm out of her grip, moving once again. "I'm not going that fast."
"What's got up his arse?" she mutters as she follows the youngest footsteps.
Twenty minutes passed, though it seemed longer, they followed the youngest of the group, as he took each turn with a decisiveness that would have been born of years of traveling the tunnels.
"Pala, cut the light out." He whispered harshly, walking up to her. "Somethings here."
"What?" was all she got out when a wave of frigid air ripped through them. Ghostly clicking noises echoed through the confined space. Franticly, Pala extinguished the light, plunging them in total darkness. Instinctively they grabbed hold of each other, desperately trying to find comfort in the others presence. The sound of feet being dragged permeated the air, along with the shiver inducing clicking noise, which drew ever closer. A pair of spiderly fingers appeared at the mouth of the junction, its long nails digging into the brittle masonry; flakes of mortar breaking away, falling to the ground. They waited anxiously, as the ghastly nails dug deeper into the stonework, using it to haul itself along. Shuffling into the centre of the occupied tunnel, grinding to a halt. A mixture of chattering and clicking filled the surrounding area, bouncing of the ancient walls.
A tooth chattering chill ripped through the tunnels, sending shivers crawling down their spines. A dense fog oozed along the floor, obscuring the ground, emitting an icy ethereal glow.
The undead simply stood there; body twitching occasionally, its spindly fingers flexing and contorting in unnatural positions. Several more of the ghastly things shuffled into view, chittering to one another. Tention grew even more among the soldiers as their only way forward out was now obstructed.
Nathill knew something had to be done. They couldn't stay like this forever. Steeling himself for what he was about to do; it was either extremely smart or completely idiotic, leading to their horrific demise. With meticulous care he crouched down, eyes fixed on grouping of undead. Subtly he began to feel around the area, keeping the movement as inconspicuous as possible. After a few heart stopping seconds, his fingertips brushed over a pebble. A bead of sweat ran down the side of his face, as he seized the pebble. With as much control as he could muster, he rose back up, every fibre in his being screaming not to mess this one chance up. Then it happened.
Everything seemed to slow down, as he lost his balance at the last possible moment. His heart lodged itself in his throat. The other three watched in a mixture of fear and dread, as they watched him fall to the side. Instinctively they latched onto him, at the same time he put his hand out to stop the fall, encountering the crumbling masonry. The sound reverberated off the walls; the chittering sound ceased instantly.
Fear gripped a hold of their hearts with a renewed ferociousness; every ounce of their very being screamed at them to run. To flee.
One by one, the unholy creature's heads turned towards the noise. Soulless eyes stared unwavering towards the four Matatabians. A single click pierced the silence.
In an instance they lunged forward; moving with uncharacteristically deadly grace.
"FUCK!" screamed out Pala, throwing up her hands instinctually, as the others tried to flee, grabbing hold of each other.
A beam of golden-white light erupted from her hands, illuminating the area. The sudden eruption of light forced the squad to protect their eyes. As quickly as it started it was over.
Tentatively, they uncovered their eyes, allowing them to readjust to the ambient light surrounding them.
"What the..." trailed off Sera, as she looked round in disbelief. The ghastly hell spawns were nowhere to be seen; a feeling of warmth and protection purged the chilling dread that seeped into their very souls. All around them, floating lazily were a multitude of golden specs, illuminating the surroundings in a soft glow.
"How?" asked Jonas, eyes darting around, trying to make sense of the situation.
"I don't know." breathed out Pala, as she examined her hands in disbelief. "I..." cutting herself off, unsure how to even explain it.
"Great." sarcastically muttered Nathill, rubbing his face with his hands in frustration. "More bullshit powers from the gods."
"With out those 'bullshit powers,' we would have either been severally injured or dead." stated Jonas in his matter-of-fact voice. "I for one am happy I didn't have to engage those things." shivering dramatically. "I've heard horror stories of entire units being whipped out by those...things." moving closer to Pala, making sure she was ok. "We should count ourselves lucky they weren't accompanied by a Mother Hallow." this time, a shiver ripped through all of them. They all knew the carnage a Mother Hallow could cause; a sight they neither wanted to be in or witness.
"At least we got something to use against them." stated Nathill as joined the other two, checking in on Pala.
"That's all well and good, Nat." Sera interjected, "We do not know how often it can be used. Or how much of a cost it demands from her." While Sera and Nathill were discussing the pros and cons of Pala's newfound ability; both Jonas and Pala were having their own discussion. An underscore of excitement bubbling between the younger demons.
"How do you think I can active it." Pala inquired, a hint of excitement and awe filling her words.
"I don't know." replied Jonas as he was deep in thought.
"Maybe it activates with a word." pondered they older one, raising her hands again, just like before. "Fuck!" Hearing what she just said, the other three instinctively covered their eyes.
Yet, nothing happened.
"It was worth a try." she said, shrugging her shoulders. A little disappointed that it wasn't word activated. The possibilities were endless.
"We can mess around with that later." state Nathill, as he cautiously made his way to the junction, sticking his head around the corner, checking the coast. "For now." waving them over, "We have to return home."
A few more hours passed before they made it back. Missing several patrols along the way, as they reached the residence, an uneasy feeling settle within Nathill's stomach.
"Somethings not right." he muttered as he motioned the others against a wall. The shadows obscuring their forms, as he peeped around the corner examining his childhood home.
"What is it." whispered Sera, an undertone of worry creeping in.
"I don't know." he replied, eyes never leaving his home. "But something feels off."
"Come on." he directed, turning back the way, they came. "We'll find another way in." his mind racing through all the other routes they could take.
It took a further forty-five minutes to find the entrance he was after. A whimsical smile tugged at his lips, as a memory surfaced of him smuggling Serina in and out. An ache made itself know as he thought of those times. Those innocent times. Pushing those thoughts and feelings deep down, he proceeded to reveal the entrance. Removing the last obstacle revealing a narrow opening, time had trundled on filling the space with foliage and roots.
"We'll follow this path." crouching down, ready to move into the dark hole. "It should go under my old room." without a word the other three crouched down, crawling through the opening, grumbling about the cramped conditions and the variety of bug life that called it home. As meticulously as possible, Nath replaced the last of the stones, drowning out the last of the natural moonlight.
A silhouette emerged from the shadows. A predatory grin gracing their lips.
Crawling through the cramped space, taking longer than what it should have taken. Jonas had a mini freak out as he crawled through a big spider web. Furiously wiping away the offending web, at the same time trying desperately not to scream out and cry. He hated spiders.
After that mini fiasco, they reached the end of the path. Pushing themselves against the sides, to allow Nathill to squeeze past them. Gingerly getting to his feet, he felt around the ceiling trying to find the latch to disengage the locks holding the trap door in place. After several minutes and a multitude of spider webs later, he found it, hooking his fingers around the latch. Making sure everyone was ready; he pulled on the latch. Every second passed antagonising slowly, every so often the latch would catch on something then release.
Finally, it released.
Nathill let a breath he didn't realise he was holding. With the same amount of care, he securely placed his hands flat against the trap door. Happy with his grip of it, he pushed it open steadily, turning his face away from the falling debris. Pushing it aside as quietly as he could, satisfied were it now laid, he poked his head out just enough to observe the area. Once the coast was clear, he hauled himself up. One by one the others joined him, ensuring they kept any noise to a minimum.
'It really is like smuggling Serina in and out.' he mused. The nostalgic smile returning. Eyes adjusting to the darkness, ensuring everyone was ready. Receiving nods, the older man opened the door slowly, keeping out an eye for any movement. Slipping through a gap large enough they each stalked out of the closet; the entire house was silent.
The feeling of uneasy returned cementing itself deep within him.
'This feels like a trap.' he signalled, 'Be ready for anything.' As stealthily as they could they withdrew their weapons. Receiving their signal that they were ready, all four of them moved towards the Livingroom.
Reaching the Livingroom, everything was still. Not a sound. Adrenaline coursed through their veins. Still nothing.
In an instance a shadow hurtled towards them, a blade clashing violently against Sera's, as she skidded back several feet, barely keeping her footing. At the same time several more shadows moved against the Matabatians.
In moments, a battle erupted inside the once peaceful home. Each pairing hacking and slashing at the other, refusing to give an inch.
Sera blocked and parried against her opponent, taking the offensive as often as the opportunity presented itself. Her skill with a blade shone through as she moved from defensive to offensive, pushing her assailant back. Each clash of their weapons sparks erupted, slashes and gauges littered the environment.
Pala was knocked off her feet, narrowly avoiding a strike to her abdomen. Diving out the way as a knife was flung at her, skidding across the floor, gripping the handle of her blade. In the next moment she sprung up off the floor, launching herself at the enemy, bringing her blade down on the others.
Jonas was struggling to hold his own, barely able to find an opening in the onslaught of furious strikes that were raining down on him. Yet he tried to hold off the attacker, ducking and weaving, parring what he could. An armoured fist caught him square in the face; blood squirting out. Stumbling backwards in pain, leaving himself wide open. A hot searing pain ripped through his body; eyes flung open in shock and surprise. Shakily looking down at the blade that was running through his abdomen; forcing himself to look back up at his attacker as they removed the blade efficiently, striking again with their armour fist, sending the young demon doubling over. Coughing up blood, head spinning, a chill starting to settle throughout his body. A final strike came from his foe, backhanding him with enough force to send him hurtling into the nearest wall with a sicking thud. Crumpling to the ground.
Nathill was gaining the upper hand against his own opponent; slipping under their defence shoving his blade upwards, penetrating cleanly through the unprotected underarm. The soldier screamed in agony as his blade sliced through flesh and bone, slicing off the arm. Ignoring the screams, he kicked the wailing soldier to the floor, not wasting a second, he drove his blade down. The agonising wails stopped instantly as a head toppled to the floor, wobbling around for a few seconds before coming to a shaky holt. Breathing out and exhausted sigh, closing his eyes for a moment. An audio thump jolted him out of his stupor, whipping around he watched in horror as Jonas's limp body crumpled to the ground.
"NOOO!" he roared, in anger as he flung himself at the one who cast his subordinate aside. Propelling himself forward, he engaged his new adversary. His fight with the brute, was intense as they hacked and slashed at the other.
Sera and the Agent were still in a heated dual, moving out into the garden, after carving their way through the kitchen. Sliding away, she glided elegantly across the grass, creating a trail of dirt in her wake. The Agent moved swiftly like a shadow, bringing a flurry of unrelenting strikes and slashes. Each one perfectly deflected and parried, followed by her own attacks. This back and forth last for several minutes, the garden slowly began to change. The once well-kept space turned into a destructive landscape.
Ducking under a swing, the Matsuhoian elegantly moved behind her, kicking her supporting leg. The swift movement sent her onto her back. Barely rolling away from the sword that was plunged into the ground, where she was but moments ago. Not one to take anything lying down, she flipped herself off the mud-covered ground, twisting her body as she retaliated the kick in kind. The Agent moved back just enough to clearly see the sole of the boot. Ignoring the embedded blade, he reengaged in hand-to-hand combat.
Two consecutive thuds of bodies dropping to the floor echoed through the near silent home. Neither Nathill nor Pala waisted not a moment as they rushed over to their fallen friend, skidding to a halt they dropped to their knees, delicately moving Jonas's body onto his back.
"Jonas!" frantically shouted Pala, fear creeping into her voice. "Wake up!" she tried again, still nothing. Nathill on the other hand began to go through the steps to check on the younger demons' vitals.
'Pulse faint.'
'Shallow haggard breathing.'
While he was working, Pala came running back into the room, clutching the medics bag. She desperately pulled out a multitude of different medical supplies. In her mind it didn't matter if what they were doing was pointless; all she knew was that she had to try and do something to save her younger friend.
A shallow, wet, raspy pain filled breath escaped the younger male, as bandages were applied to his wound, the pain making him wince.
"T's ... cold." he whispered, tears escaping from his blackened eyes. " 'urts."
"So..."
"Hush." softly soothed Nathill, grasping the blood-soaked hand. "You'll make it." a tear slipping down his own cheek. It was like his brother all over again. Shooting the women a desperate look, willing for hope. For any good news. Her eyes said it all.
"Just hold on a little longer." the hand in his growing ever colder.
"Nathill." came a familiar voice. Looking in the direction where the voice came from. See his mum, moving quickly towards the trio. "Let me take a look." kneeling beside him, she placed one hand on the wounded soldiers head, the other on his torso.
"What are you doing, Ma?!" he asked in both shock and agony. Ignoring his outburst, she focused her chakra, muttering a long string of words. In seconds, her hands began to glow a soft white; at the same time Jonas sucked in a massive breath of air. Steam steadily rose from his wounds, as they began to knit themselves together. His black eyes, fading away.
Finally, it was done.
As soon as it was over, the Matriarch swayed ever so slightly.
"It's been a while since I had to exercise such abilities." smiling as Pala, help steady her. "I'm fine, dear." patting the supporting arm. "Take him to your room to rest, Nathill." getting up. Once up she observed the ruined home, sorrow filled her heart as she took in the damage.
The agent renewed his assault against the Matatabian, throwing calculated punches and kicks moving through each attack like a raging river. Powerful, yet controlled.
Each hit, Sera blocked to the best of her abilities, even so, the pain from the force of them was adding up. Cuts and bruises littered her body, wincing as another strong hit landed, feeling the sharp pain of her shoulder being dislocated. The force of that hit sent her sliding away, barely keeping balance after grinding to a halt.
Her chest rising and falling quickly as she caught her breath, pushing away the pain that radiated from her shoulder. She knew deep down she had to finish this bastard off fast or it'll be over.
Hoping from one foot to the other, another attack came. Instantly a chakra covered fist was mere centimetres from her face; when out of nowhere someone else entered the fight, slamming their own fist into the Agents head from above. Sera watched in slow motion as the fist belonging to the next-door neighbour, slammed down on the Agents head, driving the soulless being into the ground. The force of the impact throw Sera off her feet, as dirt and stones erupted from the impact site.
She landed harshly on ground tumbling into the bushes surrounding the perimeter, colliding with the fence behind. Blacking out on contact.
Incessant ringing, and muffle, distorted voices flooded her mind as she willed herself awake.
" 'a"
" 'ra'"
" 'era'
"Sera!" the voice of her friend finally got through the ringing and mind fog. The feeling of warm hands drawing further through the fog. Eyes fluttering as she focused on opening them to see her friend again.
After several minutes she could open and focus on the dishevelled women leaning over her.
"Are you a princess." she mumbled out, a smile tugging at lips as she watched the others face twist between amusement and disgust.
"Don't call me, Princess." she bit back, poking the exposed arm, eliciting a hiss of pain. "I feel no remorse." chuckling as she was flipped off.
"Help me up." together they got to their feet, leaning on the other for support. "Where's the other two?" Sera inquired searching for the others.
"You did well, young one." came a gruff voice. Turning to see the old man from next door walking up to them. "You have potential to grow beyond what you know or are capable of." he said with a hint of pride at seeing the younger generations potential.
"Thank you, Sir." Sera replied with happiness and respect. "And thank you for the assistance in taking down the enemy." glancing over to the crater. In the centre of the hole was the limp body of the Agent, laying in his own pool of blood.
"Don't mention it." motioning them back into the house. "We don't have much time, before more turn up." The trio moved back into the home.
Doing as he was told; he gently scooped up the now sleeping male, fear still gnawing at the back of his mind. As he moved through the devastation, his foot collided with something hard; he noticed it as it skidded across the floor. It was the head of the Matsuhoian he decapitated. An uneasy feeling rose from the pit of his stomach, a nagging thought wrangled its way to the forefront of his mind.
Pushing that thought down for the moment, he carried on with his task.
Once he was satisfied the younger Matatabian was settled, he left his room. Each step seemed to echo loudly as he approached the lone head. He stared at it for some time, realising he was alone, he crouched down beside it. He stayed there for what seemed like hours, until he finally gathered up enough courage to pick it up.
With great care he cradled the cold helmet in his hands, closing his eyes, bracing himself for what he was about to see. Creaking an eye open, he dropped the helmet in shock, hearing the metal hit the ground and the sound of the head being dislodged. Time stopped for him as he watched the face of his elder sister come to a stop; her eyes void of light, filled with pain and fear.
The moment of her death. Emotions captured for an eternity.
He snapped out of his stupor hearing the return of the others; not wanting his mother to know of what had become of her only daughter. He franticly grabbed the helmet of the closets fallen soldier, swapping one for the other, gently putting the remains of his sister in the helmet that helped obscure majority of her features.
Moving away in time as the others entered the room. Walking up to the two younger women, he wrapped his arms around them.
"Are you both okay?" he whispered, holding them tightly. Gripping onto each other, they simply nodded.
"What's the next course of action?" asked Sera, looking around at the carnage.
"Firstly, everyone is going to be patched up." state Nathill's mother, as she walked in holding a couple of rucksacks. "Secondly..." she paused taking in the damage, "You four, are going to leave and continue whatever quest you have found yourselves on."
"What about you?" her son asked as he took the items off her. "What about all this?" motioning around them.
"We'll handle that." replied his gruff neighbour, "Focus on that is ahead of you."
"Nath." The matriarch said soft to her son. "I am more than capable of handling these youngsters." patting his cheek reassuringly. "You three didn't get those combat skills from your father." returning to patching up the younger women. "Though." she said winking at the girls. "He knew exactly how to use those strong hands of his." This got the reaction she was expecting.
Five cloaked figures stood on a hill, watching as a building erupted in blue and black flames. The fire engulfed the whole house, a heavy silence hung among them. Alarms rang out throughout the city, as people started to show up to the fire. The house adjacent caught fire.
"It's time to part." whispered the old man as he placed a comforting hand on the Matriarchs shoulder.
"So, it is." emotions creeping into her voice, as she turned away from the scene below them. "Be safe. All of you." walking up to her middle child, placing her hand onto his cheek. "We'll see each other again." placing a soft kiss onto his other cheek. "Look after yourself and your teammates." a sad smile on her lips, eyes bright with emotions as she turned away, walking to her old friend. Her steps felt heavy, pausing for a moment, she looked down to the place she called home for almost a century. Shutting her eyes tightly, she turned completely away, following her old friend.
"We should leave as well." quietly stated Pala, coming to stand beside the older man.
"Yeah." was all he could say, making sure Jonas was secure, they turned and began to walk in the opposite direction.