#eyes glowing as they just take a step forward before absolutely rocking that demons shit is OBJECTIVELY cool as hell

[paigemathews]

Technically, the show made it canon with Wyatt scaring off Piper’s dates, but the cousins and Paige definitely can do the glowing eyes thing. Definitely a thing that (at least some of them) can eventually do on command, because hi, an upper-level Warren witch turning glowing eyes on you is a nat 20 for intimidation, but it also happens involuntarily when they’re using a lot of magic or their emotions get intense while using magic. Why? Because the show canonically made that a possibility and having a witch with glowing eyes is cool as fuck man!!

[blackjackkent]

Figured we might as well figure out what Wyll was being so cryptic about, so I popped another long rest, and sure enough...

"Hell's fire. She's coming..."

The open ground in the middle of the camp quakes and rocks, then splits, spreading an oily puddle across the dry dirt. Flame bursts up at its edges, spreading dancing, ominous shadows across the tents. Hector can feel the heat prickling along his skin.

From within the puddle, a form appears, rising into the night air. A woman's form, wreathed in wide, demonic wings. She settles into being as the oil drips from her, revealing ice-blue skin and golden, glowing eyes. A headpiece and necklace of gold glint in the dying flames.

Her gaze traces each member of the group in turn, a disdainful smirk curling her lips.

Wyll has gone rigid with visible fear as he stares into the stranger's eyes. She gives a dismissive click of the tongue and shakes her head.

"Wyll. You've been naughty." Her smirk deepens. "And you know what happens when you're naughty."

Wyll's head jerks as he swallows. Behind him, Karlach is looking at the demon with intense dislike; the banked-fires glow in her chest seems to have brightened abruptly.

"Gods damn it," she mutters. "Anyone but her."

Hector has no idea who this woman is or what any of this means, but it's quite evident that it's already in danger of getting out of hand. So he steps forward, subtly moving his shoulder ahead of Wyll's, and addresses the demon directly. "Just who in the Nine Hells are you?" he demands.

The devil turns towards him, raises her eyebrows with a faux-shocked expression.

"Wyll, you absolute stinker! You kept me a secret?" She laughs coldly. "Time to let the hellcat out of the bag." She offers Hector a mock-bow. "Call me Mizora. I'm Wyll's patron - the fount of his power. My pet's been unruly..."

She trails off, then lifts one hand in a jerking, pulling gesture. "And his leash needs a yank."

At once, Wyll staggers, jerked forward off his feet. His hands go to his throat, his eyes bulging; an unseen hand constricts around his windpipe.

"We had a deal, Wyll," Mizora says, utterly unperturbed by his distress. "But Karlach's still breathing."

She looks over at the tiefling, whose eyes narrow. All the good humor Hector saw in her in the light of day is gone now, buried by the fear and anger of the moment.

"I've taken more pleasant shits than you, Mizora," she snarls. "And at least those can be buried after."

"That's no kind of talk for a lady," Mizora returns disdainfully. "By the way, Karlach..." Her smirk takes on a dangerous edge. "Zariel sends her regards."

Hector can see Karlach stiffen as if slapped. Next to her, Wyll writhes, still grasping futilely at the invisible hand cutting off his breath.

"You told me - devils only," he gasps out, with a horrible retching strain for air. "She's - a tiefling - not a monster."

Mizora laughs. "How precious. The little pupster's found his bark." With a jerk, she releases Wyll abruptly from the grip, sending him back onto his heels.

"Clause G, Section Nine: 'Targets shall be limited to the infernal, the demonic, the heartless, and the soulless.'" She shrugs carelessly. "Karlach meets the criteria, pet. Trust me on this."

Hector's eyes flick between the three of them, a multitude of questions on his tongue - some for Karlach, some for the devil. But in the end the one that emerges is the one that comes from his own hurt, from the frustration with all the secrets stewing in their little group.

"Blast it all, Wyll. Why didn't you tell me about her?"

Mizora answers before Wyll can, biting off each word. "He's the Blade of Frontiers. 'Devil's plaything' just doesn't have the same ring. Speaking of..."

Her expression hardens abruptly and she flicks her wrist.

There's a sudden explosion of noise and light. The ring of fire reappears, this time surrounding Wyll, consuming him. The night is split by his abrupt scream, unending, tortured.

Narrator: Wyll burns in the fires of Avernus; the lightning storms of Dis strike his flesh. His soul passes through each layer of the Hells, gaining their essence - and their torment.

The light is blinding, flashes of lightning and fire, Wyll's shape silhouetted in the sudden overwhelming glare. Dimly, Hector is aware of the need to charge forward, to act - and then a searing, burning pain cuts through his shirt into the skin of his arm. Karlach has grabbed his arm and pulled him back before he can strike. Her touch burns like the same flames Wyll is being consumed by - but she releases him almost at once, leaving his sleeve singed and smoking.

He can see the regret in her eyes, the slight shake of her head - this is not a fight they can win.

He turns in time to see the final, writhing transformation as the flames begin to die down and with them, Wyll's sounds of agony. The Blade lies facedown on the ground, chest heaving with the fading pain.

Slowly he pushes himself to a standing position, touches his own face and head with mounting horror.

He is no longer human, but a devil himself.

Mizora draws a breath and lets it out in a satisfied huff, admiring her handiwork. "That's better," she murmurs.

"What the hells have you done?!" Wyll cries out, clutching at the horns, the new markings in his skin.

She just shrugs, visibly enjoying his anguish. "A promise broken, a price paid. You know the terms. Get used to the new form, pet - there's no going back. Some magic, even I can't undo. Now, let's see how the Frontiers fare without their precious Blade."

She turns away from him as he falls to his knees in the dirt, eyes instead the tiefling behind him. "Karlach. Keep an eye on him, would you. I'll be keeping mine on you."

A pause, and then almost as an afterthought, "Oh - and Wyll? Don't forget. Our pact still stands. Ta-ta!"

Another burst of light, a tornado of fire...and she is gone. The camp falls silent. Wyll curls into himself on the ground, giving himself up to grief and rage and regret.

[absolutepokemontrash]

You don't need to write this if you dont want too because it's up to you but this is something wholsome

WHAT IF L!MC M!M & BBY A!MC BECOME BABIES AND THERE EVEONES HAS TO CARE FOR THEM,

I apologize for having such horrible writing and grammer. I never payed attention in school, nor could I afford to pay attention 👉😎👉

Bro I feel you on the not paying attention in school thing. Fear not, dearest asker, ask for demon babies, and since I am a merciful writer, you shall receive.

Oh Shit, Half-Demon Babies are Running Amok Send Diapers and Help-

Mini summary for the casual reader, L!MC is Lucifer’s half demon child who got summoned into the Devildom to be one of the human exchange students, M!MC is Mammon’s half demon kid, and A!MC is Asmo’s. Let’s get to the fic!

Ah, what a relaxing day... Lucifer was sitting back in his desk chair, enjoying a nice glass of Demonus and listening to one of his favourite cursed vinyls. He had done a damn good job on his work earlier and Diavolo had insisted there was no more work to be done and he could have the weekend all to himself.

Of course, his brothers were still a factor that could have ruined his me-time... on any other weekend! Satan had just gotten a new encyclopedia to read, so he wouldn’t be causing any trouble, Beel and Belphie were going to take that Devildom food tour, Mammon and M!MC were planning on spending the entire weekend shopping, Asmo and A!MC were going up to the human world on Saturday and staying until Sunday, and Levi... He got a sudden burst of inspiration for his Animal Crossing Island and most likely wouldn’t be leaving his room for the next month. Lastly, L!MC wouldn’t be causing any problems, his child would probably spend their time with him rambling about musicals or anime they had seen, and Lucifer found their intense interest very adorable.

Ah... peace and quiet...

...

...why did Lucifer hear crying?

There, standing in the entrance hall of the House of Lamentation, was Solomon, holding three screaming babies.

What, and I cannot stress this enough, THE HELL?!

“Ah, Lucifer,” Solomon attempted to wave hello, but needing to continue to bounce one of the babies on his hip kind of hindered the gesture, not that Lucifer wanted a wave at that moment. “I’m sure you have questions.”

After everyone had gathered into the living room, Solomon explained how a spell gone awry had hit L!MC, M!MC, and A!MC with the effect of turning the three into the screaming infants that stood (or... awkwardly sprawled out) in front of them.

On the bright side, the spell only had a timespan of roughly two days, so they wouldn’t be stuck like that forever.

Everyone sat in silence for a few minutes (save for the babies, who were still either crying or incoherently babbling) as they processed that information. Lucifer, ever the flawless older brother and leader, stood up and clapped his hands together once.

“Alright then, everyone cancel your weekend plans, we need to deal with this.”

Lucifer’s dearest little brothers all whined in protest, Satan in particular. “They’re not our kids, why do Belphie, Beel, Levi, and I need to cancel our plans?!”

“Satan,” Lucifer said sternly. “You don’t remember this, but it took six people to take care of one of you. The kids may only be half demons but there are three of them. We need all hands on deck. Besides, if you all want someone to blame, blame Solomon.”

Everyone turned and levelled their practically murderous glared at the sorcerer, who suddenly pulled baby A!MC into his lap and began to rock them back and forth.

“I have never felt more unsafe.” Solomon laughed nervously. “But you wouldn’t kill me while I’m holding my not-child would you?”

Asmo stomped over and snatched A!MC away from Solomon. “I can’t believe you- ACK! A!MC! Stop drooling!”

A!MC had a long trail of drool coming out of their mouth which caused Asmo to shriek and hold A!MC at arms length away. “Stop that! That’s gross, A!MC, you know better.”

The adorable baby continued to babble and drool.

Mammon picked up M!MC, who almost immediately stopped crying upon seeing Mammon’s watch, they began making grab hands at it. “Ah, ya want the watch?”

M!MC squealed in delight as Mammon dangled the watch above them, Mammon was delighted that his little brat still had their expensive taste, even as a baby. “Hey, look at me! I’m doin’ pretty good! Suck it, Asmo!”

As Asmo and Mammon bickered, Lucifer took the time to look at L!MC, they pulled at Lucifer’s tie and hummed to themselves. They were mind numbingly cute despite the screeching they were doing earlier. The sight tugged at the cold spot where Lucifer’s heart should have been, he had missed this part of his child’s life... maybe just that weekend he’d get a chance to-

“Solomon where do you think you’re going?” Lucifer was pulled from his thoughts when he noticed the shifty bastard trying to make his escape. “You’re staying to help manage this nonsense.”

—————

A!MC may have been an absolute ray of sunshine normally, but as a baby, they definitely lived up to the term demon-spawn.

A!MC would scream, cry and pitch a fit if they didn’t get what they wanted immediately, not that they had any way of articulating what they wanted because they were a god damn baby! Asmo and Solomon were at the point where they were just holding stuff out to A!MC to see if it would make them stop crying.

“Come on butterfly, don’t you like this... antique perfume bottle?” Asmo asked, A!MC took one look at it, then burst into flames and started wailing again. “For the love of my father WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!”

Now there were two sobbing messes in the room, and one was on fire. Solomon quickly magically took care of A!MC’s little fire problem (the baby was fiiiiiiine, demon babies light themselves on fire all the time!), picked A!MC up, sat down on Asmo’s bed, and snapped his fingers. Tiny balls of light gently floated into the air around the three, Asmo looked up from his pity party upon hearing A!MC stop their crying.

“See, you still like my magic, even as a baby, right A!MC?” Solomon asked, A!MC looked around in silent wonder, trying to reach up and touch the lights.

“Oh Solomon, this almost makes me forgive you for screwing up my weekend plans...” Asmo sighed in relief, he sat next to Solomon and pulled A!MC into his lap. “Not very colourful though, is it? Let me fix that.”

Asmo smiled as his own magic added streaks of colour, it was like their very own private showing of the northern lights. A!MC had on one of those goofy baby smiles that can make even the grumpiest person smile back.

Solomon and Asmo shaped some of the lights into shapes and animals, Asmo let a pink butterfly land on A!MC’s nose, much to their adorable delight.

“And that one’s a bird, and that one’s a giraffe,”

“That’s an alpaca.”

“Sorry, an alpaca with a weirdly long neck, oh! And a sheep!” Asmo looked down at his lap where A!MC sat and tickled their sides. “Everyone likes sheep!”

He then quickly shaped a ball of light into a scorpion and made it scuttle into A!MC’s lap. “But I have to say, scorpions are the best.”

The fifth born sighed in contentment as their sweet little hellspawn continued to watch the magic show. Never in his life did Asmodeus ever think he’d be this happy holding a baby, usually babies were things he thought should be handled with hazmat suits, but not at that moment. His little butterfly truly did have him wrapped around their finger.

“Asmo, hey, Asmo,” Asmo looked over at Solomon, who had a glowing triangle over one of his eyes. “Would you like to join my secret society?”

“Solomon, you are ruining the moment.”

——————

“C’mon kiddo! Eat your damn food!” Mammon once again tried to shove the spoon into his kid’s mouth with the same result as the 50 previous attempts.

“YUCKY!” M!MC shouted and slapped the spoon away.

“Here,” Beel took the spoon from Mammon. “Maybe it’s yucky like they said.”

Beel ate what was on the spoon, then smiled brightly. “You can really taste the mango!”

“See bud..? Beel likes it.” Mammon gestured at Beel, who was eating the entire jar of baby food as Belphie watched in amusement. He was such an asset to the team. “Beel! They need to eat!”

“Fine, let me try.” Belphie grabbed another spoon, and waved it in M!MC’s face. “Here comes the airplane... whoosh... whoosh...”

M!MC didn’t budge, Belphie knitted his eyebrows and rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine, be that way.”

Levi pushed open the door to the kitchen, and upon seeing the scene before him, immediately turned and tried to leave. “Nope! Food isn’t worth getting spit up all over me-”

Mammon lunged forward, grabbed the back of Levi’s jacket and practically yanked him into the kitchen, he slapped a spoon into his hand and smiled. “C’mon, do a favour for your super great big brother!”

The third born looked at M!MC, who defiantly stared back at him, the baby had the upper hand and the little brat knew it. Babies were so much cuter in anime...

Levi nervously stepped forward and held out the spoon like a weapon. “O-okay M-M-M!MC... you need to eat your food... pls... pls eat.”

M!MC said nothing, they only did what most babies did.

...

They spun their head 90 degrees until the back of their head was all Levi could see.

Everyone in the kitchen stood in complete silence, until Mammon jumped a foot in the air and started screaming bloody murder. “MY BABY!”

He dove forward and scooped M!MC up in his arms, the baby, obviously freaked out by the sudden loud noise, had begun to cry.

“It’s okay! It’s okay! Uh... uh...” Mammon looked around frantically. “Hush little baby don’t say a word... papas gonna buy you a mockingbird. And if that mockingbird don’t sing, papa’s gonna buy you a diamond ring... and if that diamond ring is brass, butitwon’tbebecauseyouroldmanwouldn’tgetcheatedlikethat-”

M!MC spun their head back to its correct position, but their crying sounds were now several octaves lower... It sounded like if someone put a baby in the Darth Vader mask but without the weird breathing sounds...

Mammon looked to Belphie. “I’m blankin’ on nursery rhymes! Ya hafta know some kid songs!”

Belphie, after being put on the spot, suddenly forgot every single nursery rhyme and lullaby any of his brothers had ever sung to him. Oh! A song popped into his head! He could sing that!

“Lizzie Borden took an axe, gave her mother forty whacks, when she saw what she had done, she gave her father forty one-”

“Not that one!” Mammon squeaked, holding M!MC closer to him. M!MC’s voice had returned to normal, the next problem is that they were only speaking in infernal. “Somethin’ else!”

“There was an old lady who swallowed a fly,” Beel began to sing. “I don’t know why she swallowed that fly... I forgot the rest of the song...”

“Dammit... Leviiiiii!” Mammon wheezed, desperately trying to calm the angrily growling M!MC. “Sing! Sing anything!”

“A-anything?” Only one song came to mind. “Uh um... With the doors of heaven and Hell barred, there is no other but the guard, Master of the Hellish Yard...”

Mammon lit up and nodded like Levi had just offered him a million Grimm. “Aw hell yeah! This song!”

He handed M!MC to Beel and began to dance and sing next to Levi, who had really gotten into the song as well!

“With those sins that you've committed, If you pay you'll be acquitted, and your crimes all permitted,” the two paused for dramatic effect before both belting out the best line in the song.

“ONLY ONES WITH CASH DO WELL, WELL AT LEAST IN HELL!”

As Levi and Mammon continued to sing, M!MC became so entranced by the dance, that they stopped their demonic babbling and just watched the second and third born dance and sing the English cover of an old vocaloid song. Belphie and Beel made brief confused eye contact to make sure the other twin was seeing the same thing.

The duo finished the song and took a bow, Beel lightly tapped M!MC’s chubby baby hands together to make it look like they were clapping. It was enough for Mammon and Levi.

“Thank you, thank you,” Mammon said. “We’ll be here forever, next show ain’t free.”

“We should sing The Tailor on Enbizaka next!”

“Levi! No! That song is like... seven minutes long!”

“Hey, morons,” Belphie stuck his thumb at M!MC. “They still haven’t eaten.”

Mammon’s triumphant expression dropped right to the floor. “Ah fuck...”

——————

“Satan, where’s L!MC-” Lucifer looked up at the ceiling of Satan’s room and his jaw dropped. “WHAT ARE THEY DOING UP THERE?!”

“I can’t get them down!” Satan hissed back.

L!MC. L!MC the BABY. They were on the ceiling. They were sitting upside down on the ceiling like it was an average Friday. Lucifer was too old for this shit...

“L!MC.” Lucifer held out his arms, L!MC squinted at him, that’s when Lucifer remembered L!MC was practically blind without their glasses. “L!MC, it’s your father, come here.”

“Don’t you think I’ve tried calling them down like that?!” Satan spat as he quickly ran a hand through his hair.

Lucifer shot a glare at Satan, then Lucifer heard something that nearly made his (lack of) heart stop. Oh no- L!MC was yawning-

L!MC yawned and suddenly detached from the ceiling. Lucifer and Satan both dove forward to catch L!MC, which culminated in one of Satan’s piles of books falling down, but with L!MC safe and sound.

“Damn it.” Satan grumbled as Lucifer shifted to properly hold L!MC. “This is going to take forever to clean...”

“That was clean?” Lucifer raised an eyebrow as L!MC began to fuss slightly.

Satan growled and rolled his eyes. “Yes, it was clean thank you very much. I knew exactly where everything was.”

The cat that unofficially ruled the House of Lamentation pranced into Satan’s room like it didn’t have a care in the world, it began to bat at one of the loose papers that had been scattered around the floor. Detective Toe Beans, you’re an esteemed detective, and technically RAD’s mascot, stop that!

Satan scooped up the cat and began to put the books back in the pile, when Lucifer noticed a familiar, beat-up old book lying near the bottom of the pile.

“Ah, I remember this book,” Lucifer leaned down and picked it up, showing the cover to L!MC, who didn’t seem very interested and continued petting the fur part of Lucifer’s jacket. “It’s good for a bedtime story, right L!MC?”

Lucifer tucked the book under his arm and turned to leave when Satan practically shot upwards. “If you think you can just take that out of my room, you’re completely delusional.”

“Are you seriously going to whine about getting a bedtime story for L!MC?”

“CAT!” L!MC looked over Lucifer’s shoulder and reached for Detective Toe Beans. “CAT!”

“Yes L!MC, cat.” Lucifer whispered to them, then turned back to Satan. “And if I’m remembering correctly, I used to read this to you. Do you really want to deprive poor L!MC of bedtime stories from me?”

“Pff... deprive...” Satan rolled his eyes and huffed. “I’d be saving them. You were the only one who never did any voices for the characters, I was bored to sleep.”

Satan walked forward and swiped the book from Lucifer. “If anyone’s reading L!MC a bedtime story, it should be me. I’m twice the storyteller you’ll ever be.”

Lucifer scoffed. “Ridiculous. We’ll both read L!MC a story and they can tell us who did best when they get back to normal.”

“Fine by me.”

The three (four if you count Bean) were soon seated on the couch in Lucifer’s room. Lucifer took the first story.

Satan listened along and absentmindedly pet Bean, hearing a story he had heard over and over again had managed to bring back memories of a time where he had significantly less control over his wrath. Every night he’d demand a bedtime story or he’d throw a tantrum unlike anything the Devildom had ever seen.

The eldest was always there to swoop in and read Satan a story whenever the little ball of seething rage looked ready to kill the unfortunate brother who told him it was bedtime.

It had gotten to the point that Satan could recite most of the stories in the book completely by heart. He chuckled under his breath as he remembered the time he matter of factly told Lucifer that he’d be reading him the bedtime story that night and proceeded to pretend to read the story of The Hydra and the Pufferfish. He hadn’t actually learned to read, much to Lucifer’s dismay, Satan just memorized what to say and when to turn the pages.

Though, it was apparently impressive enough at the time to warrant a head pat from Lucifer.

The fourth born leaned closer to Lucifer to get a better look at the book’s illustrations. They were always slightly off and strange looking, much like the pictures in the Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark book that L!MC had given Satan for his birthday.

Lucifer abruptly stopped reading.

“Why’d you stop?” Satan looked up at Lucifer, then over at L!MC. Aw... Satan didn’t even get a chance to read...

“Our audience has fallen asleep.” Lucifer stifled a yawn and prepared to close the book, Satan quickly shoved his hand on the page to stop him.

“You started reading,” Satan looked away and grumbled. “So at least finish the story...”

Lucifer smirked and opened the book back up. “If you insist, Satan.”

————————

Yayyyyy! Babies! I’m sure the three get back to normal by Monday... hopefully...

Here’s a link to the song Levi and Mammon are singing!

I hope you all enjoyed! As of the time I’m posting this, the next set of Lessons 1-5 Headcanons will be out tomorrow at 8:30 pm EST.

[noonmutter]

Revelation pt. 2

Daily Writing Challenge 2021 Day 17: Spellbinding/Disappointment

It took very little time before parts of his skin were burnt to an unnatural crisp. Terry knew a lot of injuries very well, burns among them; human flesh didn't do this when it was burnt. Not outside of an incinerator, anyway. He reflected that the Ember Ward might well qualify; the sheer intensity of the heat from the light might well just be that hot. But then he remembered that all he needed to do to counter the instant scorching was some clothes or one of those ridiculous parasols he'd seen, and that went out the window. Yep, just magic bullshit. He could sort out what it did, but he'd never be able to sort out why it worked.

He would have been content to hole up in one of the destroyed buildings, but they were, unsurprisingly, all claimed or constantly drawing in hopeful tenants. Terry was not up for that kind of fighting, not anymore. His body simply hurt too much, and he could feel himself moving slower and awkwardly to accommodate his wounds. He hadn't missed having a gun so badly in a very long time. None of these fancy morons had firearms, he would've been set for life. Or, well. Whatever this was. Unlife? Eternity? Whatever it was, it sucked. It sucked, and he was hungry.

And thirsty. He'd been offered tea by a particularly giggly venthyr with some insane hair and no shirt, but he wasn't about to trust that. He wouldn't have trusted that from a normal venthyr, he wasn't about to trust it from one that laughed that much. The guys with bags on their heads seemed safer, and following them had led him to insect hives that he'd been willing to risk. He couldn't identify them, they weren't tasty, and even a handful of them didn't amount to much, but Terry had very little left to lose. If he shat himself to death, he'd be very disappointed, but hey. At least he'd be done with this.

He hadn't been counting on hallucinating, though he probably should have. It was awfully mild, as bug-induced hallucinations went; just noises, a rising and falling ringing in the ear like he'd taken a blow to the head. Nothing visual, at least not that he'd been able to catch. It didn't interfere with his ability to move any more than he'd already been impaired, so he moved on, seeking more shelter. There was a temptation to either dig a hole and bury himself, or, more concerning and more powerful, to throw off the coat and just let the light take him. He ignored both of those with a quiet grumble of "Bugger tha'" and trudged on.

---

Terry found himself wondering for the thousandth time how long he'd been doing something, in this case, walking. It was maddeningly dull: Find a shady place. Rest a minute. Look for another shady place close by. Check clothes for holes. Go to new shady place. Repeat. Sometimes he'd have to fight someone or something off; sometimes he simply had to run to a new spot on the fly, earning a new scorch in the process. And all the while, he wondered where he was going. It was hard to remember what his original plan had been; was that the fault of the heat, or was that just part of the torment of the Ember Ward?  

The damn ringing noise had only gotten louder as time went on, which just seemed unfair. It was really the only solid proof Terry had that time HAD gone on, though, aside from touching his face to check for stubble. For the thousandth time, he reached up to do so, but this time, he spat a curse and tried to scoot back before he realized how stupid that was; he couldn't distance himself from his own arm by backing away from it. The newest burn had left a nasty, rip-like line of blackened, papery skin on his forearm, but this time, he spotted the angular golden lines and circles emerging from it.

He hadn't seen those in quite a while, as he thought back on it. For a brief moment, he felt comforted by it, but he chased that thought away with a hard shake of his head. Just because it was familiar didn't mean it was good. It was still someone else's mark on him, a visible sign of interference in his life, of subverting his will, and dammit, now the ringing was even LOUDER.

embrace it

Oh good. It was a voice now. Terry covered his ears with both hands, knowing perfectly well it wouldn't accomplish anything but needing to do something. Defiance was rapidly becoming his only salvation. He had only survived as long as he had by refusing to die, refusing to be beaten. Shouting "No" to the universe was the mental equivalent of punching himself in the thigh to dull the pain of a bullet in the shoulder.

Heat surged against his face, and he forced his eyes open, worried that he'd accidentally put himself out in the light again. Instead, the light had come to him, coalescing slowly into a humanoid head and torso, though it lacked a face beyond a pair of white eyes nigh-indistinguishable from its glowing golden frame. Terry froze; it didn't, raising a hand toward the sky and drawing energy into its palm.

With an irritated, incredulous "Shit," Terry bolted.

---

What had he done to this fucking thing to piss it off this much? Why wouldn't it give up? He'd already run so far, ducking under crags, diving behind walls, hiding under bridges, and even climbing a tree once. It had found him eventually every time (the tree was just idiotic desperation, really), announcing itself with a blast of light that rarely hit its mark, but was steadily burning away more and more precious cloth with each near miss. Terry was too slow for this, especially when every scrap mattered. If it weren't for the damned light he would have thrown the coat at the elemental and made a sprint for it ages ago. It felt like hours, it could've been minutes for all he knew.

His legs burned, his lungs burned, his whole body burned, literally in many places, but all he could do was run and hide. The stolen rapier had predictably snapped the first time he'd tried to use it and done nothing but earn him a direct blast to the chest for his troubles. Nobody he passed had any interest in lending him a hand. One of the little runty guys had yelled a request to keep his shoes when he died. In a better time and place, Terry might've shouted back an agreement, but he couldn't spare the energy.

let go

And that damned voice wouldn't shut up. Every time he narrowly avoided a beam, every time he caught a glimpse of his skin covered in glowing yellow circuitry, every time he had to flee, it chimed in. Almost literally, it was like a great bell by now, trying to rattle his brain and make everything even harder. Embrace it, let go, stay; it wanted him to burn, and he refused all the more. He'd rather have shat himself to death after eating demon bugs than choose oblivion willingly.

When a second elemental appeared, he realized he might not have to anyway. As ever, he clung to his defiance to find the energy to run, but he could feel himself running on fumes. He'd already been weak to begin with, and it had been a long, long chase. Even a madman spurred by sheer spite like him ran out eventually. Admitting it was the first step on the final decline, but he couldn't stop the thought from coming.

He was losing.

let it save you

He was tired. He was tired of running, tired of hurting, tired of fighting, tired of longing, tired of loneliness, tired of hunger, tired of nightmares, tired of fear, tired of suspicion, tired of dying... He was just so tired. He was tired of thinking, and thinking ahead, and overthinking, and re-thinking, and questioning thinking, and--

He caught himself losing track of the now, but it was too late. His ill-fitted boot caught on a rock, and Terry pitched forward, head over heels, feeling the coat tear away in great hunks. It took some skin with it before he could bring himself to a stop, narrowly avoiding rolling off the edge of a cliff.

He tasted blood. That, like the lines absolutely covering his body by now, was familiar, but it wasn't a good familiarity. An exhausted, distant part of his mind that had already thrown in the towel was kind of impressed he could still bleed. As more of his flesh burned, the handful of elementals converged on him, and he looked back over his shoulder. It was a long way down, enough that the bottom blurred into an indecipherable grey mass. He'd probably die if he jumped. But maybe he wouldn't?

He was definitely going to die if he didn't. If the sky didn't do it, the elementals would. They were gathering energy in unison like a creepy glowing firing squad, and they stared straight through him while they did it.

But in that moment where he tensed his legs in preparation to launch into the unknown, he hesitated. The bell sounded again, thundering loud enough that his ears bled and he nearly fell ass-first off the edge anyway.

a leap of faith

A dry, crackling wheeze of laughter escaped him. With one last look at the firing squad as they brought down their hands, Terry tore off the last tatters of the coat and fell backward into the abyss.

( @daily-writing-challenge​ )

[lunarsaga]

EPISODE 2: Angel Among Demons

HOLY SHIT THIS BITCH IS LONG, HAVE FUN Y'ALL~ a very quick note, I wanted to work in more of Luna being bilingual, so when you see [text in brackets like this] that means that she's speaking in english. (This will only happen in her perspective—no one save Kagome will know what she's saying.)

ENJOY!!!

================================

“Luna, please tell me again why you have to go off on your own.” Kagome set her hands on her hips.

Luna sighed as she slung her shotgun holster over her shoulder and held up her sheathed short sword. “Technically I don’t have to. But if you all are stopping to rest, go ahead and rest. I’m just needing some practice with my sword—it’s been a while since I’ve even held a katana.”

“Shouldn’t you save your energy as well?” Miroku asked her. “We have quite a journey ahead of us, it seems.”

Luna shook her head. “I’m too restless to sit around right now. Besides, if we’re headed toward a fight, you’re gonna want me at the top of my game.”

“Just stay close, okay?” Kagome pleaded. “I can sense a demonic aura somewhere in the area.”

Luna tucked her sword into a belt loop on her jeans, offering her sister a little finger gun. “That is what the shotgun’s for, little sis. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

As it turns out, she wasn’t… wrong. But that didn’t mean her little solo workout wouldn’t be entirely uneventful.

She walked a little ways away from where the group was, taking a second to appreciate the surrounding nature. Even back where her dad’s place was—in upstate New York—the forests weren’t quite like this. Not only was the scenery beautiful, but the air was about ten times clearer than she was used to. Truly beautiful.

She found a nice little spot among the trees: a little clearing, mostly clear of rocks or anything she could trip or fall on, and no grass or mud to slip on while she was moving around, just dry dirt. There was a little sapling, just big enough to be a practice dummy while she worked on her form. She dropped her gun out of the way, and shucked off the flannel shirt she was wearing. With that tied around her waist, she was left in just a pair of yoga pants and a tank top.

“Alright girl,” She said, repeating words that had been said to her so many times over the years: “Let’s get to work.”

She wasn’t afraid to admit that she’d gotten rusty. In her era, she only really ever needed her modern weapons; the only reason she even had a Katana was because the rare occasion called for it. Well, this was certainly a situation that called for it.

“Sorry, tree,” she chuckled to herself, “but you’re young, you’ll heal. Life, uh...” She drew her sword, twirling it in a figure eight around her body. “...finds a way.”

It was easy for her to get lost in her training. This often happened when she did repetitive drills or workouts: the movements came rather naturally, so she could zone out and lose herself in it. It might’ve been an hour, could’ve been more than two; she wasn’t sure.

“Fighting with a katana isn’t like what you see in the movies.” That was the first thing her father had taught her when he’d given her this sword—almost ten years prior. “It’s all about moving your feet.”

She sliced an arc through the air, envisioning her sapling opponent swinging a sword as well.

“Strike fast, and dodge faster.”

As the imaginary blade “swung” her way, she ducked the blow, feet sliding across the dirt. She paused for a second, hand extended in front of her and sword raised above her head, parallel to the ground. She smirked, steadying her breathing. She remembered being thirteen and how it felt to actually wield this sword for the first time...

“You and your sister are special,” her father had told her, “you can learn to see with your other senses.”

As a young teen, she’d laughed at that. “Like using the Force? Like a Jedi?”

“Just like that.”

The Jedi thing seemed like a joke at the time. But as she grew older, she learned it was more serious than she could have ever guessed.

“Everything gives off an energy called an Aura. The more powerful something is, the easier it is to sense.”

Before she could swing again, she froze. Speaking of auras, she was picking up on a rather strong one—and it was headed in her direction. She heard no sound—other than the wind rustling through the trees and the occasional call of an animal in the distance—but this strong sense of foreboding was unmistakable. Her ears were burning, and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end as a chill ran down her spine.

A demon, no doubt. And a powerful one at that.

“It’s not enough to sense its presence. Focus. Close your eyes. Where is it coming from?”

Right… over… There!

Without even looking, she whirled and flung her sword directly at the source of the demonic aura. The blade struck something—she heard the thunk—but she didn’t wait to look. She immediately dove for her shotgun, tossed the holster, and caught herself in a roll. She was solidly crouched on her knees and the balls of her feet, with the gun cocked before she looked up at the demon she’d chucked her blade at.

“Thought you could sneak up on me, huh?” She snorted. Then, she actually took in the sight of him.

First of all, her blade hadn’t even come close to hitting him. It was currently embedded in a tree trunk—just barely, it looked like it could fall at any second— about six or seven feet from where the actual demon was standing.

The first thing she noticed about him was the sheer amount of white on his person. Pristine white linen kimono, hakama of the same fabric cinched around his ankles,  an enormous (and fluffy-looking) pelt of fur over his shoulder, and silvery-white hair cascading down his back. On top of all that, he wore armor that Luna supposed was meant to be intimidating— but to her, it just looked ridiculous.

And his face. He was positively gorgeous, which was incredibly confusing given that the feeling of dread she was getting from his aura hadn’t gone away. His eyes were a striking shade of gold—but cold as a polar ice cap. He had markings on his face—two magenta on each cheek, and an indigo crescent moon on his forehead.

“You’re in my way,” he said. Even his voice was cold, albeit resonant. “Move.”

For a second, Luna forgot she had a voice. Silent as her lips were, her mind was racing, trying to do the math: What the actual fuck— why is he so pretty? He’s a demon! Demons ain’t usually this damn pretty! Who the fuck gave him permission to look like that— it’s a Tuesday for fuck’s sake!

Almost a solid thirty seconds had gone by, and Luna realized she still hadn’t said anything. Oh, fuck, okay, stop just fuckin’ staring at him and say something, you idiot— so, of course, the most intelligent thing that she could say at that moment was: “...huh?”

Those frigid, golden eyes sparked just the tiniest bit of annoyance. “I said move.”

Her grip on her gun loosened just the tiniest bit, and she straightened up just a little. After a small glance around the enormous forest surrounding them, she made an amused face at him. “What? Dude, there’s a whole forest, just go around me.”

She uncocked her shotgun, stretching her legs to stand up.

“You have quite the audacious nerve for a human.” And he sounded none too happy about that. “Get out of my way.”

Luna sighed, “And you seem to like repeating yourself. I’m doin’ something here, so unless you feel like getting your demonic energy purified today, I’d suggest you take abouuut...” she pursed her lips, pretending to judge the distance with her pointer finger. “Five? Six steps to the right? It won’t be that hard on you, I promise. No one will think less of you.”

Now she was just being facetious, which was more than likely going to cause problems for her in the future—knowing how demons tended to be—but she had absolute faith in her weapon and her own skill. With an aura as strong as his, it wasn’t likely that her sacred salt rounds would do more than wound him, but sometimes that was at least enough to scare off some spirits.

When he didn’t respond, she figured he was just going to swallow his pride and take her advice. She was about to set her shotgun down and go back to practicing, but the Bad Feeling roiling in her gut got worse. It wasn’t just the buzz of a demonic aura anymore, the energy started crackling with even more malice, and she swore there was a sickly smell in the air for a split second before she felt it pop.

Her instincts screamed at her to move, so she spun to the side, almost as if her body moved on its own. What looked like a whip made of pure green light zipped close enough to her that she felt the heat on her cheek. When it didn’t stop, neither did she; she jumped back and nearly fell over backwards trying to bend out of the way of the second snap of the whip. This time, she didn’t hesitate to cock her gun and fire.

The air was still for a second as the shot rang in her ears, tension crackling and fizzling out like the tails of fireworks. When Luna regained her balance, she aimed and pumped again to ready the second shell. No distraction this time, she was aiming straight for his face.

She expected him to be at least a little startled—hell, she could see she’d blasted the end of his sleeve off, and there was a surface burn on his hand from the Sacred Salt packed into her ammunition. His claws were still bared, still glowing green from where he’d lashed at her. What was frustrating, was that he didn’t seem like he was more than mildly perturbed.

“...how did you do that?”

She growled at him: “Sacred Salt, you wanna see it up close? Try me again, fucker.”

“Vulgar.” His voice was flat, but he did finally move… but not to walk around her. He stepped forward like he was trying to inspect her. “You are a priestess, I assume.”

“Nah, I ain’t that pretty and nice,” Luna said, keeping her stance and line of fire. “Call me a Demon Slayer, or a witch if you like. Names don’t matter, the end result will be the same.”

He’d moved to point-blank range, but that horrible feeling in her gut had only grown stronger—her instincts were telling her to run the fuck away, but logic told her the point was moot. She only had one shell left, and the first hadn’t amounted to more than a scrape on him. Even at this range, she’d never do much more than scratch him.

“Whatever name you take matters not to me,” He continued, “regardless. You are still human. And as such you are no match for my power. I will give you one more chance to get out of my way, or you will die.”

There was another tense moment of silence. Luna could feel her heart beating from her ears, to her toes, to the tip of her trigger finger. Resolute as she was—and as much as she so desperately wanted to wipe that calm, detached look off this proud asshole’s face—she knew she wasn’t making it out of here alive if she didn’t stand down. And it’d be kind of a lame-ass thing to say when she got to the afterlife: “How did I die? Oh, I refused to back down from a standoff with a super-powerful demon because I didn’t wanna give him the satisfaction of telling me what to do.”

“Fine.” She huffed, uncocking her gun and stepping out of the way. She sneered at him as she rested the gun on her shoulder. “But not because you told me to. I’m gonna be late for dinner if I don’t head back.”

The air was still thick with tension as she went to grab her sword. She didn’t look back at him, but she was hyper aware of his presence. Thankfully, this time, there was no climactic snapping of the tense energy; as she pulled her sword from the tree trunk, she felt his aura receding. When it was far enough away, she heaved a sigh of relief and let her shoulders relax.

“One of these days, girl, your pride is gonna get your ass killed!”

Luna rolled her eyes as she went back to collect her holster and her katana’s sheath. “I know, Alice,” she muttered to herself.

~ ~ ~

This was why Rin didn’t like humans.

She had only been minding her own business! She needed to eat, so she’d been foraging through the forest like she always did. She didn’t realize that she’d wandered so far away from Master Jaken and Ah-Un until she looked up, arms full of foraging spoils, and realized she had no idea where she was.

She tried to retrace her steps, calling out for Master Jaken and Lord Sesshomaru every once in a while, but it didn’t help. She remembered passing by a human village before, but she made a mistake in trying to use that as a way of finding her way back to where they had stopped. Because when she passed the village, she was confronted by some men that lived there.

“You’re the one we saw earlier, with those demons!” One of them said, “Child, you should not be living among them!”

Oh no. Rin began to back away from them, but they only drew closer. One of them cut off the path she was walking on.

The one closest to her was looming over her. “You should come with us. Demons are dangerous, you could be killed or eaten!”

“No, I won’t!” Rin said. She might’ve been trembling, but she was firm. “I won’t go with you, and I’m fine on my own!”

“Don’t be silly, you’re far too young!”

“Where are your parents?”

“If you tell us, perhaps we can help you return to them.”

“I don’t need your help.” Rin kept backing away, hoping to put enough distance between herself and the men. She clutched the little bundle of food closer to her and prepared to run. “Leave me alone!” Valiant as her attempt to escape was, it was still in vain. The one closest to her grabbed her arm, and she accidentally dropped her food. She tried to struggle away from him, but his grip was too tight.

“Let me go!” She yelled, tears pricking her eyes.

“You should be living with your own kind, girl!” the villager said, “You belong with humans!”

“OI.”

That was a new voice. Rin stopped pulling, and the villagers all turned their focus to the newcomer: it was a woman—human, as she appeared to be. Her black hair was tied up in a ponytail, and she was dressed strangely; black garb, and skin-tight like a ninja’s. She had something that looked like a very short, strangely-patterned kimono tied around her waist. In her hand was a short katana, and she carried what Rin thought looked like one of those matchlock guns on her back.

A samurai? Rin guessed. If she was, she was dressed really strangely. No armor, either? Maybe she really was a ninja.

The woman’s hazel-brown eyes narrowed at the village men. “Is there a problem here, gentlemen?” She held her hand out, gesturing to Rin. “Let the girl go, or we’re gonna have issues.”

What an odd accent. Rin looked up at the man, hoping he’d listen and let her go. No such luck yet.

“This doesn’t concern you, woman,” the man said. Rin could swear she saw a twinge of anger in the woman’s face when he called her that.

“This child was residing with demons!” One of the others joined in.

The woman arched an eyebrow. “So what? You her father?”

“No—”

“Uncle?”

“....no.”

“Caretaker?”

“No.”

“Then it ain’t much of your business either, now is it?” The woman crossed her arms, leveling a stare that could mow down a forest. In an instant, her expression changed as she shifted her eyes to Rin and gestured with her sword. “C’mere, honey.”

The man holding her wrist looked like he wanted to object, but Rin took the opportunity to rip her arm free and run away from him. She did not like humans, not in the very least. Humans were horrible, and these men were no different. But this woman—her eyes were soft, and she squatted down to Rin’s height when she stood next to her, her posture non-threatening.

“Did they hurt you?” She asked gently.

Rin stared at her a second, folded in on herself. “...No…”

“You know these guys? Are they from your village?”

Rin shook her head. “I don’t have a village…”

The woman nodded, processing that before asking: “You have someone taking care of you, sweetie?”

Cautious, Rin paused a second. It seemed this woman wanted to help her—but… she was still a human. Rin didn’t trust humans. There might’ve been something about her that was different. This close, Rin could see her eyes better: they weren’t just hazel brown, they just looked like that from far away. Most of the color was a cool brown, but right around her pupils, she had flecks of gold that took the shape of crescent moons.

Was she really a human with eyes like that? Lord Sesshomaru had golden eyes… and the crescent moon on his forehead! Perhaps she wasn’t a human after all—or she wasn’t a full human, at least. That settled it; she was definitely more trustworthy than most humans.

Rin smiled a little as she answered her: “Yes… I have Master Jaken and Lord Sesshomaru.”

Her savior nodded and smiled, then she stood to face the village men again, blocking them from Rin. “Alright, you all can head home. This girl is obviously spoken for.”

“By demons!”

“Are you mad?!” the one that grabbed her demanded. “She is in danger!”

“Probably,” the woman said. “But look at her. She’s unhurt, she’s obviously able to feed herself, and the only ones I see endangering her is you three. So scram.”

“How dare you talk back!”

Rin flinched as the leader reached out and smacked the woman across the face. She started shaking again, but this time it was from anger. “You can’t hit a girl like that!”

“Don’t worry, kiddo.” The woman’s voice was low. She cracked her neck, rolled her shoulders, and untied her odd kimono from around her waist. She turned around, set her weapons down, and held out the kimono. “Hold this for me?”

Confused, Rin nodded and took the garment, surprised at the soft, warm fabric. She watched as the woman turned back to the villagers once again.

“Alright, boys,” she said, cracking her knuckles as well. “Just remember… you hit first.”

The leader had no chance to figure out what she meant before she swung back and punched him square in the nose (Rin tried not to laugh). The other two shouted and lunged at her, but she kicked one in the side of his knee and smacked the other in the face with her elbow. When the first one went down, the second came back and tried to grab her, but she flipped him over her shoulder as easily as if she were lifting a sack of beans. The leader had fallen to his knees, cradling his bleeding nose. The woman stood before him, crossing her arms.

“Hope you’ve learned to leave young girls alone,” She said flatly, “If you haven’t, I’ll be back.” Without waiting for a response, she turned back to Rin, her face softening again. “Sorry you had to see that, honey.”

Rin shook her head, blinking wide eyes up at her as she held out the kimono. “...Are you a ninja?”

She laughed. “What? No, no, not a ninja. Just good at fighting. Thanks for holding my shirt for me.”

Shirt? Was that what that was called? This person was incredibly odd, but still; Rin was very grateful for her. She went to go gather her food up again, as the woman tied her “shirt” back around her waist and picked her weapons back up.

“Now,” she said, holding her hand out for Rin to take, “let’s get you back to your people.”

Rin happily took the outstretched hand. “Okay!”

“What’s your name, kiddo?”

“I’m Rin!”

“Nice to meet ya, Rin. My name’s Luna.”

~ ~ ~

“Rin! Where on earth have you been?!”

Well, that was the shrillest voice Luna had ever heard. And it came from—what the fuck was that?!

“Master Jaken!”

...well. Sure, when she’d heard this little kid was “residing among demons” from those limp-dick douchebags from the neighboring village, she didn’t expect to be returning her to someone who looked like your average human. But when Rin mentioned she recognized where they were, she definitely didn’t expect to be greeted with the sight of a little demon that looked like Kermit The Frog’s ugly step-cousin.

And yet, Rin spoke to him like he was an uncle. “Sorry, Master Jaken! I went to find something to eat, and I almost got taken by humans from that village!”

“WHAT?!” The little demon shrieked.

“No, it’s okay! Miss Luna helped me!” Rin turned back to look at her with a wide grin on her face, and Luna gave a little three-fingered wave.

“Yo.”

“I thought she was human at first,” Rin went on, “but now I think she might be a demon!”

Luna laughed at that. “What?”

“You foolish girl!” “Master Jaken” chastised her, “That’s no demon!”

Rin looked confused. “Huh? But… she has gold in her eyes, just like Lord Sesshomaru!”

Gods above, this kid was adorable. Luna shook her head, smiling fondly. “I promise, I’m not a demon.” When Rin looked disappointed, she added: “But I promise, I’m not like those guys that tried to take you. I’m one of the good ones.”

She was snapped out of her good mood by a familiar feeling. A demonic aura, another strong one. With her focus on the adorable kid—and the little demon and the horse (dragon?)-looking demon so close—she hadn’t noticed it until she felt it directly behind her. Her grip on her sword tightened, and she hazarded a look over her shoulder. And who should be standing there, but the pompous asshole she’d run into earlier.

Startled, she practically launched herself into the air, shouting: “[JESUS FUCK!]” in English. She didn’t dare draw either of her weapons, just stood out of the way so she wouldn’t be killed.

“Lord Sesshomaru!” Rin greeted him happily.

What the fuck. “[Y… you’re—]” she stopped herself, trying to get her brain to go back to the right language. “[God damnit], you’re her Lord Sesshomaru?!”

“Lord Sesshomaru”, of course, didn’t answer. He just glared at her, likely planning how he was going to murder her. “Rin. Who is this woman.” It wasn’t a question, and those disdainful golden eyes never left Luna.

“This is Miss Luna!” Rin answered. “I was just telling Master Jaken: she saved me from these terrible villagers that were trying to take me away!”

Luna held up her hands defensively, never breaking eye contact with the demon. “Didn’t know she was with you. I just wanted to help her.”

Sesshomaru was silent for a moment, but his glare disappeared and his expression returned to indifference. Luna gave him a nod, a silent (yet contemptfully begrudging) sign of submission. Without another word on the subject, the demon passed her by.

“We’re leaving.” He said to the other two.

Luna made a face at him behind his back, then shook her head. Fuck, this guy pissed her off to no end, and she’d only known him for a little over an hour. The little girl, however, caused her to smile again, and Luna waved goodbye as she turned to leave.

“[What an asshole.]” She muttered, once again in English.

~ ~ ~

Luna had to admit, watching Inuyasha choke on his instant noodles was pretty hilarious. “You did WHAT?!”

“Yeah, this demon lord guy,” Luna said, waving her chopsticks around as she spoke. “Colossal dickhead. I had no idea that this little girl was his—well, not his, but— [dammit, what’s the word for it again…?]”

Kagome pressed her hands together, looking like she was about to burst a blood vessel. “Luna. Do you remember when I told you about Inuyasha’s older brother?”

“Kinda?” Luna said, slurping up more noodles. “Somethin’ about the swords, right? Inuyasha sliced off his arm?”

“Yes. You remember what his name was?”

“Uh…” Luna trailed off.

“Sesshomaru.” Kagome deadpanned.

“What’s this got to do with that assh—” It clicked, and Luna swore her eyes nearly came popping out of her head. “Wait— THAT was the older brother?!”

“Yes! I told you about him, Luna!”

“[Son of a BITCH, Kags!]” Dammit, she had to get better about that. “You know I’m shit with names!”

There was also, of course, the fact Kagome hadn't mentioned that he was fucking gorgeous, but there was no way in hell Luna was gonna say that out loud now.

Sango looked a little worried. “It doesn’t bode well that you just ran into him randomly.”

“Well, it’s not entirely impossible,” Miroku said, “he is searching for Naraku, just like we are. Unfortunately, that means our paths are likely to cross at some point.”

“What’s amazing is that you came out of it alive!” Shippo said to Luna. “He’s crazy powerful, and none too friendly at that.”

“I refuse to believe you just dodged his poison whip like that,” Inuyasha snorted. “He’s way too fast. You woulda been dead meat right then and there.”

“Maybe I’m just faster than you~” Luna teased him.

“You are not, ya damned liar!”

“Or maybe it’s cos I’m stronger—I am taller than you.”

“COME AND SAY THAT TO MY FACE!”

“Guys, not over the food!”

[sinnamonthebunny]

A boy and the black wolf

Warning: Has blood, animal death, fowl language, and child abuse!!!! you have been warned! (if you have any advice on writing for me, I will like to hear it.)

The screams of agony echoed through the forest as the hero of Wild struggled to get the yiga members off him.

Wild decided to go get some supplies by himself in the forest, and accidently walked into a trap that 7 yiga members planned.

Wild pushed off the members as hey clawed at him and shot deadly arrows at his still eating heart.

Wild tried to call for the his friends, but Wild must've wandered too far from them.

Wild blocked a blow from a yiga member as another dug their demon carver into his skin.

Blood dripped from Wilds shoulder as he moved away from the one who just attacked him with the demo carver.

Cursing out loud, Wild tried to summon Urbosa’s fury; but nothing happened.

Wild thought for a quick moment and remembered that it needed to recharge.

Panic filled Wild as he struggled against the 7 yiga members.

Wild dodged another blow, and rolled across the ground; blood leaving a trail.

Everything was becoming too much, little black dots filled Wilds vision as he defended himself from different attacks.

The wind around Wild and the yiga members grew thicker, and a black fog was coming in.

Everyone stopped what they were doing, and watched the strange fog slowly came in.

Wild took his chance and tried to run away as the yiga members watched the strange fog

The flowers around the fog wilted and turned a ugly black, and the animals that are nearby ran as fast as they could away from the fog.

But the thing that mostly caught Wilds attention was the glowing red eyes in the middle of the fog. The red eyes ran chills up Wilds spine as he ran.

One of the yiga members noticed that Wild ran and went to call out about the hero’s escape.

But before a word could be said, a black cloud came shooting from the fog and started to suffocate the yiga member.

The yiga member gasped for air, but each breath he took suffocated him more. Blood began to drip out of the yiga’s members mouth as he did a strangled cry for help.

The members that were nearby looked in absolute terror as they watched one of their fellow members slowly die in the deadly cloud.

There was a strange growl coming from the red eyes.

Wild tripped on a giant root as he ran, his legs felt numb. Wild tried to remember where he last saw the group, but Wild wandered too far, and couldn't remember where their exact location was.

Wild dared to look behind him, and all he saw was 7 dead yiga members and a dangerous fog that seemed to start taking a form of some sort of animal.

A skull of a wolf appeared, the fog turned pitch black and surrounded the skull, giving it the form of a giant black wolf. Black smoke floated around the creature as it stared into Wilds terrified eyes.

The red eyes that glowed from the monster of shadows were filled with pain, hate, and grief.

Wild backed away slowly, not wanting to start a fight with the shadow.

Each step was big, but quiet and slow. Wild made sure he didn't step on any sticks or rocks that could trip him as he backed away.

Once the shadow wolf creature looked like it wouldn't be able to catch Wild for a while, Wild turned around and ran.

A loud screeching howl echoed through the forest as Wild ran.

Blood dripped from his shoulder wound as he stumbled through the maze of trees and bushes.

Not noticing the tripwire in front of him, Wild accidently set off another trap that the dead yiga members setted up.

Arrows came flying at Wild.

Grabbing his shield, Wild was able to block most of the arrows, but one was able to get passed and made its home in Wilds thigh.

Wild wanted to scream in agony, but he didn't know if the shadow was following him or not.

Putting his shield back, Wild limped as fast as he could.

Black dots surrounded Wilds vision as the wound in his shoulder bled more, and the arrow in his leg caused more pain and blood lost.

Panting, Wild stumbled over his own feet and hitted the ground with a painful thump.

The black dots in Wilds vision grew, then everything went black. But before Wild lost consciousness, he heard something walking behind him.

He prayed to any goddess out there, that the thing walking behind him was Twilight.

_____________

There was laughter, then traumatized screaming. The darkness wasn't that much of a bad thing, but it wasn't good. You are blind in the darkness, but it helps hide you. You never know what hides in the darkness.

Maybe that's why people fear it.

People are afraid of the unknown that lurks in the shadows and what they could do.

Wild was walking through the mountain side as the moon rises in the sky. He had barely any scars, and the his hair was shorter.

It was a couple days before the calamity.

Wild wandered around as his feet bled from walking on them too much without protection.

The wilderness in the world always welcomed Wild with open arms as the birds sang and the deer watch him with curiosity.

Wild sang a song he heard his mother and father sing to him and his sister when he was little.

“Have you ever like nobody was there?”

“Have you ever felt forgotten in the middle of nowhere?”

“Have you ever felt like you could disappear?”

“Like you could fall, and no one would hear?”

Wild went through the trees with a sad smile on his face as the birds sing the same rhythm.

“Well, let the lonely feeling wash away.”

“All we see is light”

“Cause maybe there's a reason to believe you'll be okay.”

Wild stopped at a little clearing where there was a giant blossom tree with a bond right by it.

Fairies flew around, and the blupees were relaxed while sitting and playing with the other blupees or fairies.

“No matter what they tell you.”

“Someone will come running.”

“They'll take you home.”

A dangerous fog was rolling down the mountain and headed toward Wild.

Wild watched as the animals nearby started running away.

Pulling out his sword, Wild prepared for a fight.

Wild stopped singing his song when the fog grew closer, and kept his eyes on the creature.

The fog stopped in front of Wild, slowly taking shape.

A skull of a wolf appeared and the fog surrounding them gave the skull the body of a giant wolf.

Wild watched as the wolf circled him, each step the wolf took was quiet.

Not a sound came from it.

________

Wild shot up from where he was sleeping, with sweat covering his forehead, Wild gasp for air.

Wild looked around and noticed he was in some sort of den.

There was no light.

Wild scrambled up to see where his location was, but all there was, was darkness. Wild felt himself go cold as he realized that he wasn't alone.

There was something cold going down his neck.

It wasn't air, the thing behind him couldn't breath.

It was the poisonous fog that killed the members of the yiga clan.

Wild turned around quickly, and saw the blood red eyes glowing in the darkness that surrounded the both of them. Wild wanted to run, but his legs wouldn't move an inch.

Wild knew this was the end for him.

The wolf didn't attack Wild, it just bumped its head on Wilds chest.

A small whine came from the shadow, as if asking if Wild was okay.

Wild didn't know what to do, so he just patted the wolf's head with confusion on his face.

The shadow whined again as if crying, then a memory flooded Wilds brain.

________

There was a beautiful black german shepherd running along with a laughing Wild.

Wild had a stick in his hand as he ran with the dog, swinging the stick, Wild accidently broke one of his fathers pots.

Fear filled Wild as he tried to pick up the pieces and hide them.

But his dad heard the pottery break and ran outside to see what Wild was doing.

Rage filled Wilds father as he grabbed Wild with enough force that could break a normal child's arm.

“You useless piece of shit!”

“That pot costed more than your damn stupid life!’

Wild wanted to fight back, but he knew that if he did, his father would beat him tell he looked like a ugly bokoblin. Tears never threaten to spill from Wilds eye, as for he knew that if he cried, his father would make him sleep outside in the cold with barely an food or water.

Wilds father pushed Wild forward and kicked Wild in the stomach with full force.

Wild heard something snap by his fragile ribs.

Wild cried out in pain as his rib broke from the force his father used when he kicked him.

That cry was all the black german shepherd needed to hear before it locked its jaws on Wilds fathers right arm.

The father screamed at the mutt to let go, but the dog didn't let go, he was determined to protect this child of wilderness with its life.

Biting harder, blood dripped from Wilds fathers arm as he screamed in pain.

Grabbing the knife he always carried with him, Wilds father jammed the knife into the dog's neck. The dog yelped and fell to the ground, blood flowed from its neck wound.

The only thought on the dogs mind was; “Was I able to save the child?”

The german shepherd tried to keep its eyes open, but as he hear the wild child scream for his father to not kill the dog, everything around him slipped into darkness.

Wild grabbed at his father, hitting him with his stick. The father turned around a slapped Wild, then throwing him at a nearby tree.

With anger in his voice, the father screamed at Wild and beated him tell the child was barely breathing.

______

Wild opened his eyes, and looked into the shadows eyes that were filled with guilt and pain.

Wild felt tears prickle his eyes, and hugged the beast.

This shadow, this creature of darkness, was the dog that tried to save Wild’s life from his own family.

Wild hugged the creature as tear fell from his face, Wild hugged the creature as the new memory was still fresh in his mind, Wild hugged the creature as he thanked it.

Wild got up slowly, and looked around to find the exit to the den he was in.

The shadow got up as well and started to tug at Wilds tunic, Wild looked at the beast and nodded.

The shadow walked and Wild followed it to the exit that was on the other side.

The night blinded Wild for a bit, but his eyes were able to adjust quickly.

The shadow was by Wilds side, and they began their little walk back to the others.

Extra:

Wild was able to find the others quickly when he had the shadow wolf by his side.

Yelling at the others, Wild trotted towards the others with the shadow wolf following behind him.

Despite having an injury on his shoulder (That luckily stopped bleeding) and an arrow through his thigh, Wild was smiling like an absolute idiot.

Twilight ran up to Wild with worry written all over his face, not paying attention to the new member, Twilight demanded on what happened while he grabbed a healing potion.

No one spoke a thing, then Legend with confusion and terror on his face he yelled at Wild; “What the fuck is that thing?!”

Wild looked at Legend, then he looked at his little shadow buddy, and with a smile, Wild said;

“This is Karma, they are part of my family.”

[korkrunchcereal]

Evergrove

((Read the previous story here. The events of the Tales of the Gilded Lands concerns World of Warcraft: Legion and can be found here.))

Breathe.

They always told you to breathe in battle; to catch small moments of peace and simply breathe.

 It was a lesson once told to Aurelian when he was a child. A fencing master whose name he could no longer recall had taught the young Indaris this, and while he quickly grew beyond the teachings of the old fencer it was advice he always kept to heart. He took the time to breath, sitting beneath the shadow of a ruined statue.

It was for only a moment, for that was all he could afford. In that singular breath he quickly recalled the events that led him back to Quel’thalas, not for celebration but for survival. War had descended upon the idealistic holding of Eastern Quel’thalas, where the House of Truefeather had long called home. Death had come from the sky, carried upon infernal wings of malice and hatred. The Legion had once more turned its attention upon the elven homeland.

Aurelian suspected as much would happen after the events of the sky tear as some had begun to call it. It had taken many months and thousands of lives, but the demonic armies of the Legion had been pushed back to where it had all started; the tomb of Sargeras. Yet deep in the bowels of the dark cathedral, total victory had been snatched away. A final act of defiance had brought the home world of the demons into Azeroth’s orbit.

Panic had been absolute when it had occurred. He had not the time to return to his own lands but nonetheless was kept informed via correspondence. When the demon world Argus appeared in the skies of Azeroth, the streets of the Gilded Lands were filled with hysteria. The end of all things had come, they cried. The Doom of the world had arrived, and so fear gripped the hearts of mortals.

Perhaps it was the arrival of Argus that had spurred the Legion’s attack on the Truefeather holding of the Dawnspire, or perhaps it was vengeance for a past slight; maybe Azshara or another theater of war, Aurelian was not certain. Whatever the case a great demonic horde descended upon the idyllic homeland of the elves, intent on devastation and calamity. Duty called him to serve, and thus he found himself in the Evergrove.

It was a place of beauty, meant for the nobility of House Rosewind, an ally of the Truefeathers, to waste their days amongst gardens and mazes whilst raising hundreds of orphans they had taken charge of. Yet hedge mazes had been trampled by hooves, and marbled statues had been torn down by the invading demons. They had come to slay the children and sow fear. Aurelian had sworn to defend the Evergrove and allow the children time to evacuate.

He was beginning to regret that oath.

His body ached, arms sore from wielding his sword. Already he had cut down a host, and yet more remained. He could hear fighting in other parts of the gardens, the sounds of battle carrying just above the hedges. Demonic blood oozed down the length of his blade, sizzling and crackling. He took a deep breath, eyes opening as he looked skyward. A great marble statue leered down at him in judgement, its arms broken off in the fighting. Beyond that the sky pulsed in sickly green hues.

Slowly he pulled himself up from the statue’s base, wincing. Something had hit him in the back of the leg, tearing away at his plated skirt. He could not remember what exactly, though it must have happened in the initial assault. The sound of battle was growing closer. Light his helm was hot, Aurelian feeling beads of sweat drip down his brow.

A scream pierced the air to his left, followed by the growing roar of demons. Something had happened in the southern defenses. Their position was shrinking, slowly being driven back inch by inch. Voices called out behind him, and he turned to their source. He cursed as he stared right into a hedge, moving quickly around it.

Elven troops were fleeing further into the heart of the garden, howling demons at their feet. Only a singular woman stood her ground, eyes alight with anger. It was a woman Aurelian recognized immediately as his superior within the Sunguard; the Knight-Commander.

“Knight-Commander! How fares the center?” For answer she pointed her sword beyond the ruined masonry that served as a crude barricade.

“Not good! Muroco needs immediate backup or he’ll be overrun!”

“Is it just the tauren down there?” The tauren was large for his people and quite strong, though even Aurelian doubted he could hold much longer.

“We have Dawnmenders with him, but he is the sole one in the line. I will be heading back down to assist him!”

“We need everyone here!” Aurelian swore, seeing more fleeing from the central line. His own flank he commanded was holding, but only just. They needed the Knight-Commander here to rally the troops and to hold the line though.

“Knight-Commander…I have a crazy idea…”

“Sare’wen?” Aurelian muttered, spinning on the ball of his heel at the voice to give a nod of acknowledgement. She looked ragged, features gaunt. No doubt she had been busy tending to the wounded in her own, unique way. She did not wield the light but rather its opposite to mend flesh and spirits. He assumed the process of wielding the raw power of shadow was taking its toll. In response Sare’wen sighed, looking between Aurelian and the Knight-Commander.

“I can fly Aurelian downwards to wreak havoc in the center. You would take his position up here.” To rally the troops, though she did not say as much. Nevertheless, Aurelian assumed that was what she had been meaning.

“Do it, Sare’wen. We need backup to the south!”

“I am flattered you find me a one-man army, the both of you but…” Aurelian paused as he caught both their glares. “Well, let’s see if that will be true.” He blinked in surprise as Sare’wen grabbed his shoulder, slowly beginning to float. It was if he was weightless in her grasp, the woman’s eyes oozing dark smoke.

“Alright you lot, I’m dragging this egocentric knight down below, so you only have one other medic here for now. Protect her like you would those children.”

“Dawntreader!” Aurelian spotted one of his subordinates fighting where had been sitting mere moments ago. “Hold that flank until you’re dying breath though preferably not to that. It would appear I have a date alongside a tauren.” Aurelian did not know if Dawntreader had even heard him, for he was already above the hedge mazes. Up here, he saw more of the battle and his heart sunk.

It seemed as if an endless horde, flayed banners and wicked weapons for as far as he could see. Dozens swarmed up the center of the maze, being held in check only by a lone tauren. He was a rock amidst a sea of fel, roaring his defiance. Without help, he would fall, and a tide of demons would swallow the maze.

“You owe me, Indaris…” Sare’wens voice carried into his ear by the softest of whispers, before she let him go just beyond the reach of the demon’s. Aurelian’s eyes widened in surprise as he fell, landing hard and rolling. Light his legs burned, but he could not dwell upon such.

“Egocentric knight; poppycock. I am the Lord of the Crescent Hills for a reason!” He pulled himself up, gripping his sword with both hands. His steel caught the fading sunlight, giving a soft glow to the blade. With a wordless cry Aurelian charged, bringing his sword crashing down. “Fall before me!”

This was what he was born for; moments like this. He was a beacon of light against the darkness, and his blade brought misery. His sword sang as it sailed through the air, each swing cutting down a demon. Before the demons had realized they had been set upon already a dozen had fallen, more being cut down in seconds. Beneath Aurelian’s fury the balked, retreating back.

“I am the Lord Indaris! Remember my name, demons!” Aurelian’s cry echoed as he panted for breath, leaning heavily upon his sword. He looked over to Muroco, offering a wink. In response the tauren rolled his eyes, snorting. “What?” Slowly he pushed himself off his sword, waiting for the next assault. He did not wait long, for the sky crackled with energy. Lightning struck from the sky, a great wail piercing the air as more demons poured forth.

Yet beneath his feet there grew another problem. Pulsing veins of fel energy crossed along the grass to the demons Aurelian had cut down. In moments their flesh dissolved, dripping from bones that rose once more. Fear gripped Aurelian’s heart then, and he took a step back. His small triumph had become disaster, as dozens clawed their way back to life.

“I think they remember your name.” The Tauren’s voice was filled with some small amusement and contempt. Aurelian shot him a glare, though did not retort. Instead he opened his mouth to say a single word.

“Shit.” In seconds they fell upon the two, claws dragging against steel as they sought to crush the two under weight of numbers. Aurelian roared in anger, pushing them away and swinging to keep them at bay. Some had run past the two however, a gap forming due to sheer numbers. Worse still were the great shadows of the Legion’s champions. Towering behemoths of flesh and steel lumbered forward, carving through undead and elf alike.

“Aurelian, we need to fall back from this position. They’re slipping through the gaps in our line.” Muroco’s voice boomed over the sound of battle, his sheer size keeping him anchored beneath the wave of the dead. Overhead the sky cracked with lightning once more, rain beginning to fall with a dull patter against Aurelian’s armor.

“You’re right; we need to move back and clear out those skeletons that broke through, and make sure these large demons don’t reach the back.” He glared at the towering behemoths that pushed their way through, recognizing them not by name but by armor. “There are the dogs, but where is your master…” His question was unanswered as the elf slowly fell back.

One of the monsters leapt to Aurelian, who brought his hand up in defense. A wave of light escaped, burning the creature to ash. Another charged forward with reckless abandon only to be cut down. It had become butchers work now to buy time. He glanced to Muroco, seeing the tauren’s attention had been drawn into the garden.

“I gotta go. Good luck down here.” Without further word the tauren charged ahead much as a bull would, head lowered as he smashed aside demons and undead to slam against one of the larger creatures.

“Where are you…Oh! Good plan.” Aurelian turned back to face the demons, eyes going wide as he realized he was now alone. “Oh.” Light there was no end to them. They charged, gibbering and biting the air as they trampled over each other in their haste to kill the armor-clad elf. It was monstrous to watch the mindless abandon they showed.

He turned and ran, cape fluttering behind him. If he stayed, he was a dead man. Not even one of his skill would hold them forever, and it sounded as if the heart of the garden was under threat. As he ran he spotted two elves down a side pass that had been created, the duo struggling to hold back several demons. Cursing under his breath he turned to them, charging ahead and unleashing a wave of light.

The relief was short lived, a great shadow falling over the three. Aurelian looked up, gasping. One of their smaller infernal machines had pierced the garden, a great fist raised. Acting quick, Aurelian thrust his blade into the machine, uttering a prayer. Light flooded the vile contraption, its gears bending and wires snapping. With a screech it collapsed, falling backwards with a dull thud.

“As if you had a chance.” Aurelian let out a sigh of relief, grabbing one of the two by the shoulder. “Hold this position, I-“ he paused, the hair on the back of his neck rising. He turned, but he was not fast enough. Something heavy crashed into his chest, carving through steel, flesh and bone. The force of the blow sent Aurelian flying in an arc of crimson.

The world spun around him as he flew, animalistic panic filling his senses. Light his chest was on fire; his everything was on fire. It was a great pain and he cried out wordlessly. He slammed against something hard, silencing him as a great sickening crunch filled his eardrums. He could feel his heart pound against his chest, vision growing dim. He landed on dirt and stone, coughing up blood in his helmet.

Slowly he tried to crawl, tried to do anything but found himself stuck. Something was on top of him and indeed all around as if in a mock burial. He was dying, wasn’t he? Dying like this. Dimly he heard someone shout his name, before the world went black.

  “Judging from you being here, you did not in fact die.” Balasar gestured to Aurelian with indifference.

“No, I lived though barely. It seemed one of the chosen bodyguard of Lord Baal, who we had faced before and was indeed orchestrating the invasion, had struck me. They found me buried under a statue, chest torn open and body broken.”

“How did you survive, then?”

“I imagine a very good medic.” Aurelian shrugged. “There were quite a few wounded during that battle, and many more would perish before the war was over. I am sure you are familiar with the other battles and events that transpired within the Dawnspire invasion.”

“Some, but I will let you fill me in what I may not know.”

“As you know I helped at the Evergrove, while the rest of our forces split between the various towns and strategic locations of the Dawnspire. The attack was swift, and the defense just as quick. I believe that word did not reach the greater Gilded Lands of the invasion until it was near over.”

“Are you so sure? From the reports, your supposed ‘death’ was a catalyst for the events of the inspection.”

“Well about that…”

[willowdrabbles]

Little bird no more Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Flapping

Word count: 4763

Rating: M (as per usual)

Letting out a loud yelp that sounded like a pup getting its tail stepped on, Kagome jumped from her sitting place and, with a wrench in her gut, felt her feet slip on the muddy bank.

"Shit!" She screeched, her arms flailing as her body tilted forward. Somewhere in the back of her mind she registered her hand slapping something, hard, but she was too focused on trying to turn herself as she skidded downward.

Closing her eyes and cringing at the impending impact into the water, Kagome felt an arm slip around her waist and a shoulder brace her head as she splashed into the water, drenching her legs and her bum in the cool drink.

Slowly opening her eyes she looked up to her savior, blinking owlishly at the golden irises that met her blue ones.

"Th-thank you Sesshomaru." She said softly as he stood, bringing her with him. All the while sporting an unamused stare. He did not remove his arm from around her waist once she stood, as if holding her there in case she took a second tumble.

"Aw man… Sango just gave me these." Kagome frowned at her slightly muddy legs and assumed her butt looked the same. She saw the mud on Sesshomaru's pants as well, being lightly brushed off with the current of the river, and looked at him again. "I am so sorry Sesshomaru."

Sesshomaru made a small grunting noise. "It is a wonder you have not lost limbs yet priestess."

"Kagome." She said automatically, using the lapping water to wipe away some of the mud. It soaked her further but she figured she was here, might as well wash off while she could even if she froze to death. She paused in her splashing to glance at him, eyes flickering between his empty sleeve and his face. "Wait was that a joke?"

Sesshomaru did not respond, stepping closer now that she seemed finished with washing the immediate mud from her clothes. His arm further curled around her waist, fingers gently gripping into her hip and holding her close.

Kagome, unsure of what was happening, felt her tongue stutter as she tried to question him.

Before she could fully form a sentence though, they both launched from the river and landed solidly on the bank, much further up than she had been sitting before. Kagome shivered with the breeze on her cold wet legs, and silently stared in wonder as Sesshomaru's pelt once more curved over her shoulders and wrapped around her like a tortilla.

"I feel like a fluffy burrito." She muttered, clamping a hand over her mouth when she realized she had spoken out loud. Peeking at Sesshomaru, she was shocked to see an expression of mild confusion on his face.

"A.. Burrito?" Though he had some other ideas in mind as to what he could say she looked like, his subconscious beast purring in absolute satisfaction at the sight of her in his pelt, there was no way he could say she looked like a burrito not knowing what it was. She was however comfortable looking in his opinion.

"Ah… it's a food from another continent, usually meat and beans and rice rolled in a…" how the hell does one describe a tortilla? "Like a thin flat pastry kinda thing?" Kagome shrugged, feeling the white pelt tickle her chin as she did so. "I might be able to learn how to make it. Or bring some with me someday." She suggested, noticing his face had not changed while she offered her minimal explanation.

"Hn. Come." Sesshomaru uttered as he turned with a flourish of silk, Kagome quietly following behind him. The sky was darkening quickly with the cloud cover, blood red sky peeking over hills on the horizon where the clouds ended, giving Kagome's human eyes plenty of light to still see as she walked behind the stoic lord. Though perhaps, she began to suspect, not so stoic all the time.

"So have you ever traveled beyond uh… This continent?" Kagome queried, burying her hands into the fur as they walked and silently let herself be enthralled by the texture.

"The vanishing Island of half demon children. I have had no reason to go further."

Kagome pursed her lips and nodded. "Yeah, if you have no interest in going then why go? I get that." She nodded, noticing he had slowed to allow her to walk beside him.

"No requirement yet. My father made treaties with the demons across the sea many years ago, long before I was born. They have not breached the treaties, as such I have no need to venture there. Yet."

"So some day?" Kagome tilted her head, earning a small nod from Sesshomaru.

"Yes. Some day my quest for supreme conquest will take me there." He stated simply, making her smile in amusement. Something that did not escape his notice. "That amuses you?"

"A little." She admitted. "I've never known the appeal for supreme conquest."

"You do not have the strive nor the capability for such with your short lifespan." Sesshomaru countered.

"Ive seen humans attempt it. Some succeed quite a bit in their time. What I don't get is what seems so great about it."

"What is greater than supreme conquest?" Sesshomaru shot at her, narrowing his eyes.

"Someone to share it with for one." Sesshomaru glared, and she rolled her eyes. "One day you'll get it. Besides, if you conquer everything then what?"

His face relaxed mildly as he considered her question. "Then you rule." He answered as if it was the most obvious thing.

Kagome shook her head "No I mean… The part of completing a life goal is to move on to the next. What is the point if you've conquered everything, then there's nothing left to see.

There was several minutes of quiet contemplation on his end before he quietly responded. "We shall see."

Kagome hummed, appreciating their talks more and more. Sango was great to share her secrets and worries with, Miroku was a wonderful conversationalist when his hand did not wander, and Shippo to her was still only a child. Inuyasha… the corners of her lips slightly curved down.

Inuyasha… All they seemed to talk about lately was Kikyo Naraku and jewel shards. That is if they spent a few minutes not fighting. Even before it was mostly her chatting and him grunting in response. But there was no inkling to what he was thinking, if anything at all.

Sesshomaru however, seemed to give her just enough to have an idea of his response. She had to conclude, not a stoic lord after all.

"Your mind wanders to my little brother." Sesshomaru's voice jolted her from thought, and she whipped her head to stare at him. Unphased, Sesshomaru blinked at her and quipped out an answer to the question in her eyes. "You retain a peculiar expression when he comes to your mind."

Kagome huffed in irritation "You can't know that."

"Anyone with the observation of a rock would know that." Sesshomaru quipped back.

She sped up Her steps to come to a stop in front of him, pointing a finger at his chest as she did so l-listen here buster! I-" her words died as she saw the tiny little quirks at the corners of his lips. They were small, but noticeable all the same. "You… you're joking again!"

"You are sufficiently easy to distract, Miko." Sesshomaru's tiny amused smile did not leave his face as he spoke, his eyes slowly starting to reveal his amusement shining in them. As Kagome puffed up to retort, his amusement fell and his feet halted. "We have arrived at your village."

Kagome blinked and turned around, confirming indeed that they had arrived back just on the outskirts of the village. The sky was now dark, and lanterns and torches had been lit. Kaede's hut was glowing from within, and all around her she could smell the mouthwatering scent of the villagers preparing their evening meals.

"Oh.. So we have…. Everyone's prepping dinner-" Kagome turned around and noticed he was walking off again. "Hey!" She scampered after him, pulling his pelt around her shoulders as she did, though the thing seemed intent on clinging to her. Sesshomaru watched her fuss with and sighed.

"Keep mokomoko for the evening. You shall not catch ill this night." Sesshomaru started to turn away again.

Kagome stammered in his offer, though she found it difficult to disagree that his 'mokomoko' or whatever would keep her incredibly warm through the night and her wet clothes. She wanted to disagree but found herself lacking, thinking of what would happen if she did catch a cold. The spark died in her and she withheld her own sigh. "Right. Can't afford to catch a cold and hold up the shard hunt any more." Kagome muttered. Looking down and away.

Because her gaze was cast to the side, she did not see him stop once more. "The hunt for the jewel is of no concern to me."

'Right, he only concerns about Naraku. Same thing really.' Kagome blinked and took a deep breath, putting aside her hurt and turning away from the Daiyoukai and heading towards Kaede's hut once more. She glanced over her shoulder once more to see Sesshomaru standing there watching her with an unreadable expression. "Thank you Sesshomaru." She said softly before continuing on her way.

Just as she felt the aura of the dog demon dissipate, she heard the wonderful familiar cries of the children she had come to adore. Shippo and Rin barred across the grass to stop in front of her, grinning widely and welcoming her back, for Shippo welcoming her back again.

"Hey Rin, how have you been?" Kagome smiled at her as the trio made their way back.

"I have been well thank you Kagome! My lord showed me his Shiro where he has hoards of scrolls of history! Then we came back and he began training Shippo and I even get to watch! Why are you wearing mokomoko lady Kagome?" Rin tilted her head as they walked, making Kagome giggle.

"I fell in the river. Sesshomaru was kind enough to make sure I was warm." She said diplomatically. Shippo frowned and said nothing, escaping Kagome's notice.

"That is unfortunate! But that was very thoughtful of lord Sesshomaru." Rin paused for a breath then jumped as though a thought had just occurred to her. "Lady Kagome! Did you get the flowers I left for you? They were to thank you for saving me!"

Kagome felt as if she paled considerably. "You… were the one that left me flowers?" She asked quietly.

Rin's smile faltered at her expression and she nodded. "I am sorry… did you not like them?"

Kagome frantically shook her head and reached out to brush her fingers through rins hair without disturbing her ponytail. "No no I loved them! I just didn't know they were from you!"

Rin perked up again, easily appeased. "Oh that's alright! I am just happy you liked them!"

They had just arrived at Kaede's hut, pushing the screen aside, the trio were quietly greeted by their comrades who all sat around the hearth, focused on eating what looked like a hearty stew dinner. Kagome's mouth watered and she spotted her bag, right next to Sango. Thinking back, she vaguely remembered it slipping from her shoulder when she sat Inuyasha, and was glad someone had grabbed it.

It was abnormally quiet, until her eyes landed on Inuyasha in the far corner. He had a look of pure shock and bubbling anger on his face. She was about to ask him what his deal was when he burst, making everyone except Shippo jerk in surprise.

"The fuck are you wearing that bastards pelt for?!" Inuyasha practically snarled, looking like he was ready to leap from his sitting position.

Everyone looked up to Kagome, blinking as they all realized that Kagome was indeed wearing the big fluffy thing that normally adorned Sesshomaru. All eyes focused on her made Kagome stammer with nervousness. "I uh… I fell in the river." She wrung her hands together before sitting down.

"Are you alright Kagome? Did Sesshomaru help you and that's why you are wearing that?" Sango, as graceful as ever, steered the topic to a safer direction as she poured Kagome a bowl of stew before offering it to her.

Kagome grabbed the bowl gratefully and nodded. "He did, and gave me this to keep warm."

"Bullshit! That thing is probably gonna possess you or some shit!" Inuyasha stood and stomped over to kagome, when she saw his hand reach out she snapped at him.

"Sit!" She humphed at him when he planted into the floorboards, "Don't be rude Inuyasha! He got wet too trying to keep me from falling and was nice enough to offer me this…"

"Mokomoko!" Rin added helpfully, promptly stuffing her face with more stew immediately.

"Mokomoko, thank you Rin. He's probably going to travel with us since he offered to help train me and Shippo and you're just gonna have to get used to him being around!"

"Really now?" Miroku asked, genuinely surprised as he chewed his food and looked at kagome curiously. Everyone else except Shippo shared such looks with her and she felt heat rush to her face. 'I guess I haven't told them that…'

"You've gotta be-!"

"Sit boy." Kagome sighed, not feeling like dealing with his interruptions. "Right.. well when Sesshomaru brought me back to the well two weeks ago, he offered to train me and Shippo. In exchange I also help out with Rin."

Rin looked shocked, but not at all displeased with this information, a glow of joy lighting her up from the inside.

"That actually sounds more than reasonable. The enemies of Naraku won't be as far spread, so when the time comes to face him again we will easily stand as one and have a better chance with that." Miroku nodded, going back to his bowl with vigor since had had his say.

"I don't mind, he's been good with Shippo so far, no reason to deny his generous offer. We could all use some time to sharpen our skill and improve our tactics as a whole. I can also help you, Kagome, with some close combat moves." Sango offered her two cents as well, smiling when Kagome nodded eagerly.

"Then it's settled!" Kagome cheered, about to take a bite of her food when Inuyasha interrupted once more.

"Don't I get a say in this?!" He wailed from the floor, shooting everyone an angry glare.

"What could you possibly say besides 'you don't like it' Inuyasha?" Miroku barked at him, allowing Kagome the moment she needed to finally start digging in. Inuyasha quieted for the moment, staring at the floorboards in contemplation. "As it is, we must stand as one and let petty grudges sit aside while we focus on the main task at hand, for all we know, Naraku has all the remaining jewel shards and we are sorely at a disadvantage. Ignoring the help of your brother- a Daiyoukai at that- is foolhardy at best and I won't listen to your nonsense a moment longer!" Miroku snapped, narrowing his dark violet eyes at the half breed.

After a moment of stiff silence, satisfied that it seemed Inuyasha would not be countering again, Miroku went back to eating with Kagome, who had only decided to close her eyes and pointedly not say anything.

'Serves him right. He can't be right all the time, our opinions matter too.' Kagome thought haughtily, peeking one eye open as she hear Inuyasha stand and slowly exit the hut, his bangs covering his expression well.

"I for one am happy to join you all!" Rin said to break the silence, easing them all back into quiet conversation.

"I am too Rin. By the way Sango, I didn't get the chance earlier, but thank you so much for the clothes and armor, I'm so excited to use them!" Kagome beamed at the lightly blushing Sango.

"I'm glad, though it can be a pain to take on and off, it could be the difference of life or death for you. And after.." Sango's face paled a bit as she glanced at Kagome's shoulder, a haunted shadow flickering across her eyes. "Well… you know. I would prefer you to not get that hurt again."

Kagome nodded, keeping a small reassuring smile on her face as she continued eating, everyone else turning to other quiet conversations on the journey ahead.

Long after everyone had settled in for the night, Kagome stirred and tossed in her sleeping bag, not disturbing Shippo as he snored beside her. A small moan escaped her lips as dreams whirled and swarmed in her head.

With a loud gasp she jerked up, the sleeping bag falling away and Shippō rolling away with a light snore. Once again Kagome found herself examining her surroundings with fear while the rest of her body remained locked and frozen. Her eyes straining to see in the dark over the dim light of the coals. Everyone seemed to be sleeping well and unharmed.

Swallowing thickly, her body released at the realization that there was no danger, the echoes of her dream fading from the edges of her mind while she rubbed her throat. Reaching into her pack and grabbing a bottle of water, she took a large gulp and shifted fully out of her sleeping bag.

'I need air.' She slipped on her shoes and the thick yukata Sango had given her and glanced around, Sesshomaru's pelt was oddly nowhere to be seen. Though given it seemed to have a will of its own, Kagome worried if she was to be responsible for it. It wouldn't do her any good if Sesshomaru was angry with her for losing his pelt like thing.

Deciding to ponder it later, she dipped out the door and into the cool air.

Like she feared, winter was fast approaching. Clouds dotted the sky and the nip in the air tickled her cheeks and turned them red. Besides a few torches lighting paths in the heart of the village, it was quiet and dark. At least for her.

Normally the sounds of the modern era were 'quiet'. Having grown up there, the background noise of the future were once nothing more than sounds on the breeze. Here, her ears strained for those formerly familiar sounds, and so were incredibly sensitive to the distinct silence the past offered.

She hasn't even realized how far she had wandered when a voice made her jump out of her skin.

"Go back to bed Kagome, I want us moving tomorrow."

A hand grasping her yukata, eyes wide and searching the dark branches above her, she could barely see Inuyasha with the minimal light of the moon.

"Inuyasha! You scared the life out of me! What's your problem?" She snapped back at him, irritated now with adrenaline rushing through her.

"Feh, I ain't got no problem. You're the one tottering around like a lost pup in the middle of the night." She could see a shift of his shadow, and could easily imagine the movement being him tightening his arms across his chest.

"Forget you." Kagome muttered, knowing well he could hear her anyways, and turned to follow one of the dirt trails down to the water where she had been earlier in the day.

Now keenly aware of his aura, she was able to tell that he followed her, leaping from the tree and trailing after her silently, keeping a distance from her as she walked carefully across the hard packed earth.

Not wanting a repeat of earlier, she stopped short of the banking hill, balling her fists before glancing at the red clad half demon.

"What?"

Inuyasha jerked to a stop in his slow tailing, narrowing his eyes at her before looking to the side. Now able to at least see him a bit better, she could see the hesitation and uncertainty in his face. Her own softened and her fists loosened, she asked again with a long sigh "what is it Inuyasha?" She didn't try to hide the exasperation in her voice.

Inuyasha looked back at her, as if he had already been proper admonished without her doing so.

"I'm sorry for the things I said… before…" he said softly, golden eyes flickering between the ground and her face.

Kagome blinked but her exasperated tone did not evaporate. "Which ones? About Naraku's escape being my fault? Or did you have something else on your mind that you shouldn't have said?" Kagome out right glared at him, her fists clenching once more.

Inuyasha's ears lowered. "I'm worried about ya, alright? You know Sesshomaru can't be trusted."

"Just like Kikyo can't be trusted."

"Damnit Kagome it's not the same thing and you know it! I'm just trying to apologize here-"

"No it's not the same thing! Sesshomaru has the same goals as us and hasn't been after your sword for a long time now and you know that! He's been nothing but decent these past few months, and he's saved me. Whatever Rin is to him, it's changed him."

Inuyasha let a low growl hum in his chest as he glared back at her "Kikyo has-"

"Kikyo has tried to kill us both." Kagome snapped. "And though Sesshomaru has as well in the past, at least he's shown he has changed. Over these years it's only been me saving Kikyo, me risking my life and my health for Kikyo. You risking your life and limb for Kikyo. Us stopping the hunt for the shards for you to see Kikyo. Us being at a disadvantage when Kikyo steals my shards, she has done nothing but make things worse for us then act self righteous because she's dead."

Kagome felt hot tears slipping down her cheeks, and for once her voice did not falter, so she continued. "Kikyo has nothing but evil in her, I know that for a fact now. You can't keep defending her when she does nothing but hurt you Inuyasha!"

Inuyasha looked like he was prepping his next argument until her last bit, his brows furrowing at her words.

"What do you mean she's got nothin but evil? She's got your soul Kagome!"

"She has a piece of me that I won't be getting back. She has a sliver of the evil of the jewel and her old shriveled hateful soul in her, but she doesn't have my soul." Kagome growled out at him, watching as his face shifted to shock and confusion. The gears were obviously turning, but not all the pieces were there.

"You know something I don't." He finally said softly, looking at her accusingly.

Kagome grunted and shook her head. "Yeah, for once I do." She said the second half sarcastically. Sitting down, she gestured for him to sit next to her, and focused her eyes on the black liquid that made up the river.

"You've been in such a foul mood I haven't told you…"

When Inuyasha sat down, Kagome went into detail about her meeting with Midoriko and Sesshomaru. Only stopping once to hit him in the shoulder when he made a comment of her hallucinating, Kagome peered at him as he contemplated everything she said.

"So you've got some sorta power that's gonna bring Naraku to an end… And you're not Kikyo's reincarnation?" He summed up with a purse of his lips, not looking directly at her.

"Pretty much. And honestly, I think Sesshomaru is the key." She admitted quietly.

"Feh! I'm stronger than he is!" Inuyasha growled out.

"Be realistic Inuyasha." The quiet serious tone of her voice took him by surprise. "Even you haven't been able to kill him yet. And he's a Daiyoukai with enormous power. AND with Tenseiga and Tokijin, he's probably our best bet against Magatsuhi. I'm not saying you're weak, far from it. But weakness can also come from being unwilling to accept help." She met his eyes once more, and the deep contemplation in her blue eyes made him lower his ears again. "How many times have we all banded together and won? Compared to fighting alone? You know I'm right."

"Yeah but I don't have to like it." He muttered, just loud enough for her to hear.

"You don't have to like it but don't fight everyone every step of the way." Kagome snapped, making him flinch before she toned down her voice. "I could have taken Kikyo's suggestion, I could have shot that arrow. But I chose not to risk our allies lives in a desperate move to finish it, that may not have even worked. All I ask is you not put everyone in danger with your pride."

Inuyasha swallowed loudly, staring at her for several heartbeats before looking away, his flat golden eyes staring up at the moon when it peeled through a cloud. The small moment of illumination seemed to stir something in him, and he nodded.

"Alright. I see your point. I still won't like it, but I guess we don't have much of a choice." Kagome smiled softly at him and leaned her shoulder into his.

"Thanks Kagome." He whispered, allowing them a few more minutes of quiet comfort in each others presence before insisting she head back to bed for the night.

Walking her back to Kaede's hut in silence, Kagome was startled when Inuyasha stopped, and gently grabbed her hand to stop her as well, his eyes downcast.

"Inuyasha?" she stepped back towards him, chills running up her arms as he grabbed her other hand, his eyes still focused on her fingers.

"Thanks Kagome." He said softly again, less of a stubborn tone in his voice, squeezing her fingers before letting her go, and in a flash of red he disappeared, bounding into the darkness faster than her human eyes could follow. With a soft blush on her cheeks, Kagome turned and went back inside the quiet hut filled with her sleeping friends.

Early the next morning, kagome was jostled awake by Shippo, his bright green eyes still slightly dark with sleep and his cheeks pink, but his hair groomed and his clothes straightened.

"Come on Kagome, Sesshomaru said you should train with us this morning."

With that, Kagome was hurrying to change into her slayers under garments under her sleeping bag. Throwing on the brown yukata on top and quickly brushing her hair into a high ponytail, she was following Shippo out into the damp still morning, bow and quiver in hand, sword on hip.

Dawn was just barely approaching, the sky getting lighter by the second, and only the occasional chirp of a bird broke the silence.

She was just about to ask Shippo where they were headed, a good several yards into the forest line, when she spotted Sesshomaru.

Regal and still, his golden eyes shone like small little suns as he stared at them while they approached.

"You know your task, on your way kit." He said simply, his eyes fixated on kagome.

"Right!" Shippo modded, determination in his eyes before he scampered past sesshomaru, quick and light on his little feet.

"And me?" Kagome asked quietly, feeling any excessive noise would disrupt the beautiful morning.

"And you, shall do the same. Hunt for your pack. A deer or boar would do well to feed them." Sesshomaru said unblinkingly.

Kagome sucked in a sharp breath, blinking at him several times. She had never hunted animals before. The concept wasn't unknown to her, Souta loved watching those survival documentaries all the time. Mostly for the 'necessary' bug eating, but still. The concept was one grasped. However she had never needed to hunt. Her supplies from the future allowed the luxury for them to not have to. When in need Sango or Inuyasha would hunt, but that was so little often, given that Miroku often 'bartered' with villages to get them what supplies she ran out of.

"I've never.."

"I am aware." He interrupted her, "That is why this is your first task. You requested I teach you, as such you will follow my instruction."

Her instinct was to argue but she bit the inside of her cheek, thinking solely on her misery just a few days ago. After last night, she had almost forgotten.

"Right then!" She firmly nodded, gripping her bow tighter and turning on her heel to face away from where they had come.

Let it begin.

[the-roanoke-society]

So uh....I know this might not be the easiest but how about that trip to hell via the gate??

i’m guessing you’re talking about nova and seraphim’s first mission!

step right up–this one’s a bit of a doozy. and decidedly lacking in the aesthetics i had in mind when i first started it and morphed into something wildly different… hopefully the disappointment is more of a dull ache and less of a shooting pain.


there are also depictions of body trauma and other violence below the cut. proceed with caution.

“lillith gave me a briefing on the way down here but uhm–run it by me one more time.”

seraphim grinned, slipping on her forearm guard. she began, reaching up to adjust the goggles over nova’s eyes, “this particular part of the underworld is, to us, gate point seveny-nine point three. it’s not a part of our hell, per se, but it’s–look, it’s close, hit me up on a day off and i’ll explain the finer theological points. our job today!” seraphim pivoted on a heel, grabbing her bottle of body armor and swallowing the last of it with a backwards tilt of her head, “is to go free the prince. name’s kreuger. not a bad–uhh. well he’s not as bad as who’s overthrown him.”

nova swallowed, shifting. the armor was heavier than she anticipated, but lighter, all at once. not something she’d worn before on any previous run. it was a blood-rust red, matte finished, and was more streamlined than bulky. she figured it was because they’d have to be stealthy. move quickly. move unseen. the only thing heavier were the pistols that hung on their hips,fueled by a cell pack that gave off a faint green glow.


she also remembered drake and wyvern positively beaming the day before over the tech that currently cloaked their frames. “the place you’re headed’s not exactly human-friendly. think the mojave with a little more punch and a lot more poison. this–” wyvern tapped on the outer shell. “–will protect your skin, help regulate your temperatures so you don’t get overheated.”

“and this,” drake took the liberty of lifting a mask to his face, “will help you breathe. we’ve got goggles to match for eye safety ‘cause gettin’ ocular degeneration over a period of ten minutes once you get back is a mega bummer.”

“don’t you mean macular?”

“nah, this shit’s a lot worse, we gave it a new name.”

“oh.”

but seraphim’s gentle touch on her elbow brought her back. “it’s okay to still be nervous. from what i’ve heard, every time feels like the first time for the few couple of months that you’re jumping. but you’re with me, and lillith wouldn’t send me in with a rookie if she didn’t think you could handle it, which means i already think you’re a badass. we just have to work together, okay?”

nova smiled at the other agent’s earnest expression. she couldn’t help it. 


this was an adventure that she’d been wishing for, for a long time.

“let’s go take ass and kick names. … wait.”

“close enough!” seraphim laughed as they walked towards the gate, glowing a faint blue around the outer rings. someone had put down stage tape at their mark. it clashed with the long, red rug that rolled out beneath the gate to the doorway. 


“final safety check, equipment secure?” nova noticed wyvern’s voice had dropped a pitch. maybe this was his proper officer tone. she pushed down on her mask, her goggles, taking deep, deep breaths. 


“equipment secure,” she answered him, turning back to meet his eyes at the console at the other end of the room.

“copy. initiating travel sequence. please remain still.”

(”dude we’re not talking over radio, do you still have to say ‘copy’?” “drake shut up!”)

and it sparked. that was the best way nova could think to describe it, even now. like seeing a heart pulsed back from the dead. then the tendrils of white light that branched out from the inner ring, like tentacles looking for each other, right up until they snapped forward, wrapping around the two of them. their feet remained rooted to the floor as they were surrounded by light, and then eventually, lifted.

everything was perfectly silently. that was the barrier building. all of the tethers tying them to their home timeline being carefully snipped, so they could be pulled in. nova glanced at seraphim, who just gave her a swift thumbs up, before there was a violent snap; to drake and wyvern: they were just gone.

but nova and seraphim landed roughly on their feet on rock that looked a bit too much like freeze-dried… well. nova picked her eyes up as soon as she could. didn’t want to look at it. her stomach caught. deep breaths, deep breaths, you’re fine, you’re fine…

but seraphim was hunched over, her breathing sort of staggered, just like hers was. “jeremy, do you have our signal?” her voice was a little weak, hoarse. a little muffled because of the mask. “… good. we’ll signal when we’re ready to be brought back. copy. … and remember to record the thunder game while i’m gone, i think we play los angeles or something. copy for real this time… hey, see, you made it!”

nova just stretched out an arm, which seraphim took, helping her take a few adjustment steps forward. and as nova walked, she was able to take in the landscape that surrounded them–and that seraphim’s gait was a bit stilted.

wasteland. that was the first thing she thought of. a sky the color of a rotted bone. mountains in the distance that weren’t wounded-colored but rather more like aged, rotted wood, jutting up from the cracked, jagged ground. something was coming down from the sky like a faint, soft snow. it was grey. and definitely wasn’t snow.

beyond everything was a faint red glow. like they were standing in a volcano’s mouth, and the rim was wide, wide around them.


“have you been here before?” nova asked, her tone hushed. the space here was oppressive, closing in, heavy. sort of like a sauna set too high, even with the armor. there was a beat before seraphim answered her.

“… a few times. i wouldn’t say i’ve been through the gate often, but i’ve been often enough to know that i really dislike being brought to places like this, and enough to know i really want us to go to gate point nintey-three point one after this. it’s a wonderful kingdom, el. haven’t been in a while. hope the princess is all right, she said something about a man named ganon before i left last...” her voice seemed to trail off for a second, before she coughed, shaking her head. “not sure why lillith keeps bringing me here. i’m not a prime candidate for jumping. … not like you.”

“not like me?”

the goggles were so reflective that all nova could see when she looked at seraphim’s face was either mask or a reflection of an alien horizon. an unholy horizon. “i may or may not have looked over your file before this. you have… i can’t remember the specific words they used. but you have something in you that makes you an absolute fit for this role. i’d called it god-crafted. a gift from the spirit. other people would call it other shit. but i said what i said.” seraphim nodded, like she was adding emphasis, before turning her face to look at the landscape. “okay. they sealed kreuger underneath the end of the palace–”

“the palace? hell has palaces?”

“my sweet little chicken nugget, all underworlds have more than we’ve been told. and to answer that question, yes. like… c’mere, look, look…” seraphim beckoned her over to a ragged cliff, which overlooked a valley that seemed to stretch on for eternity.

it was like a cradle full of darkness. the only light that existed seemed to be that of fires, torches. candles.

and in the center rose up something that towered over everything, something that–reminded her a lot of maleficent’s castle from sleeping beauty. weird. 


“that’s where we need to go. if i remember from the last time i was here, i know a shortcut we can take, we just have to stay low and stick together. you good? … awesome. follow me. keep your eyes peeled. we don’t want to fire unless we absolutely have to, it’ll draw attention to us that, trust me, nobody will want.
“

*     *     *

it still took them hours to reach the palace. hiking through the worst kind of desert, dodging rogue demonic entities, hiding. seraphim discovered that their armor had built-in cloaking (”were you going to fucking brief us on this or did you just forget?” “… uhm.”) which made it infinitely easier.

it took nova–well, to be fair, she still hadn’t quite gotten over how they all looked. and none of them were the same. each demon was fairly humanoid in shape… except for when they weren’t. and each one had viscera showing where a body part was missing… except when they didn’t, and then proceeded to have way too many eyes or mouths or teeth than any being anywhere had the business of having. and the sounds they made when they walked. if she wasn’t going to ask cherub for something for her bath before…


“think dinosaur rules,” seraphim had whispered over her shoulder, crouched behind the corner of what nova thought looked a little like an adobe house (not even the ability to become invisible could quite break her out of sneaking behind everything). in fact a lot of the aesthetics of the city–could she call it a city?–reminded her a lot of taos, jemez springs. new mexico. “if they don’t see movement, they don’t see anything.”

“wait, didn’t someone disprove that?”

“lucky for us nobody told these assholes.”

as they snuck further and further into the heart of the metropolis, the aesthetics seem to… shift. from rustic adobe to more alhambra. if she could easily pick out things from her own world to compare all this too, then surely, it was tied to earth somehow, right? “uh, morgan…” nova began. she kept close to her side. the alleyway they were walking down was vacant. seraphim took the opportunity to stretch her neck, roll her shoulders.

“this place looks a lot like this catle in granada…”

“that’s because it–sort of is.”

and there was a bit of silence before: “… i’m guessing i should wait until we get back before i lay into you with questions about how the fuck that’s possible and what the hell that even means.”

“first bath, then a nap, and then i know this great brunch place not too far from the estate, i promise i’ll tell you everyt-!” her voice cut out abruptly and one of her arms shot out in front of nova, pressing her against a wall as something huge, hulking and smoking lurched in front of the opening of the alleyway. seraphim let out a long, shaky exhale. 


“the only place worse than this is centralia…”

“where?”

“put it on our list of sleepover topics. it’s gonna be long. this place tends to do that. although it’s honestly not that hard to sneak through as long as you’re careful and you’ve got the right tech. you just gotta be smart.”

they both carefully started towards the end of the alley, sticking close to the wall. nova thought she could smell something… it wasn’t brimstone, not quite. but close. just as unpleasant. “speaking from experience?” it came out before she could stop it. 


seraphim didn’t answer until they reached the end, motioning for nova to look upwards. the spire of the tallest tower looked a lot closer than it had an hour ago. they were getting close. “… yes. once. once is all it takes for you to learn. i had amy tattoo my left calf for a reason.”


*     *     *

it was only when they reached the actual outer wall separating the palace from the rest of the city did the vibe turn a bit more–gothic was an apt descriptor. the spanish vibes gave way to something more once upon a time, something more disney, and somehow it was worse than what they’d walked through. a glossy surface trying too hard to be romantic hiding something insidious underneath, like organs wrapped in plastic wrap.

there were vines of roses along the upper edge of the wall with thorns the length of nova’s palm.

seraphim stared up at the blossoms, “okay. climbing over the wall is a no-go. each of those packs enough poison to kill something three times our size. the front main gate in and out has about sixteen different layers of wards on it and as much as i love our basement boys, i don’t exactly trust their cloaking shields to withstand that this close to the throne room…” seraphim started taking one step, then another, eyes on the flowers, lost in thought.

and nova was, too, up until she remembered: “oh! wait, i have an idea.” she unclipped a small box the color of gunmetal from her belt over one of her back pockets. “i’ve been helping jeremy and joseph with this. we’ve had a few successful test runs, and i think now would be a good time to give it an actual field test.”

“well, shit, okay, you thought of an idea first so we’ll go with that. uh–what is it?”

and nova actually swayed a bit, like an excited child. “i’ll show you. but first, you have to tell me… if you could make a hole anywhere in the wall, where would be the best place?”

that was about the time that they heard shouting, too close to be comfortable. it was in a tongue deep, guttural, with a lot of clicking interspersed. “definitely not here. c’mon, i think i know just the spot.”

after about fifteen minutes of fast-paced creeping, seraphim stopped. nova could see the roof of something like a shack over the roses, which she no longer doubted were circling the entire place. “just on the other side of this wall is a part of the chambers for the staff. i’m positive that he’s under that, and that there’s gotta be a way down there. i don’t think they’d let him starve to death, he’s too useful alive.”

“awesome. okay, stand back, calibrating this is a bit tricky…” seraphim took a few wide strides backwards as nova tucked the nondescript box into the crook of her elbow, but quickly jumped when she realized the agent was doing so to remove her glove. 


“ellie, wait, no no no–”

“i have to have skin-contact in order to activate it, i promise i’ll hurry. call it a sacrifice for the mission.”

as soon as the glove left her hand she very immediately realized that she wouldn’t have a choice. she’d been expecting a burning sensation, and that’s exactly what she got, but it still sort of took her breath away, for the first few seconds. it felt like something that you could almost get used to, if given enough time. almost. seraphim’s own covered hands went to the sides of her face. “oh jesus, okay, go do your thing sugar–”

with her thumb on the top of the box, and with her jaw clenched trying to fight through the persistent stinging, she traced a well-practiced pattern. for a moment, nothing happened. then from the end of the box shot out a circle of light, that landed on the wall in a perfect oval, like an outline.


“oh it’s so pre–”

seraphim didn’t get to finish. there was a sound like a large rubbing band being strung, almost like a bass guitar strum–and there was a perfectly cut hole in the wall.


nova was struggling to put her glove back on so she didn’t quite notice how seraphim had thrown her arms out and was just wildly gesturing to nova, to the wall, back to nova, back to the wall, “what the fuck. what the fuck. what the fuck. oh my god. that was awesome. holy shit. what the fuck did you just do. i just. oh my god. oh my god let’s go i have so many questions when we get back–oh. ellie, you all right?”

she was taking in breaths through her teeth, cradling her hand against her chest. “yeah. yeah. just feels like a really really re-he-eally bad sunburn.”

“well hang in there starkid, as soon as we find kreuger, he can take care of the rest himself. and ah, we won’t want to be here when that happens anyway. pray that nobody’s in here.” she brought up her pistol, “i know i said no firing, but–wait, was that your trigger hand?”

“uh–yeah.”

seraphim took the liberty of taking nova’s pistol of its holster and putting it in her uninjured hand. “as long as you don’t shoot me, this’ll probably work. probably. okay…” her voice lowered. “team break.”

*     *     *

lillith must have timed their jump on purpose, seraphim reasoned, or had some kind of premonition about how long it would’ve taken them to get to the castle, because right as she pushed open the shack door, there was a single, long gong from far above them. “what was that?” nova couldn’t get above a whisper. 


“given that no one’s in here, i think it’s a feasting hour. all the help’s off serving that absolute fucking batshit son of a--” a huff. “we need to hurry and take advantage of this while we still can. the servants here are the only creatures i pity. … well. they’re at least on the top five.”

nova could see why. the room was rotting away in places, black, black, blacker, an absolute absence of color amidst what looked like concrete and wood. two sets of bunk beds, and the word ‘bed’ was generous. more like just four stone slabs large enough for an adult human attached at different heights to the wall. and that was all, except for a scrap of off-white fabric on the floor.

“but where do they go to the b–”

“trust me, you don’t want to know.” seraphim interrupted, peeling back the rug to reveal a trap door. she sighed, “i know this is the right way, but this seems too easy… you got us through the wall, i’ll be body insurance going downstairs, deal? cool.” she lifted the heavy door, grunting under the weight, revealing a very narrow stairwell that looked like it was carved out of brick. there was a dim light coming from somewhere they couldn’t see, just enough to make the stair landing visible. seraphim shook her hands, taking a deep breath. “here goes nothin’, wish me luck.”

she didn’t get very far.

seraphim put one leg out in space, aiming to awkwardly go down the steps, when her leg jerked hard to one side. she swore under her breath and grabbed nova’s arm, quickly pulling herself up to sit on the floor.

she had a needle roughly the same thickness as a knitting needle shoved through the top of her boot. blood was beginning to ooze from the wounds. “ohhhhkay. i don’t know what else i was expecting.”

“morgan–”

“this is fine.”

“morgan.”

“this is okay.”

“do we leave it in?”

seraphim swore again, this time with a little more enunciation. “no. i don’t know what this is made of and now it’s currently inside of me, so we’re just going to uhm–ellie you have to do it.”

“what?”

“ellie i can’t pull this out you have to do it, you gotta not hesitate and just go for it, i don’t have the g–FUCK.” nova wrapped a hand around one end of the needle and jerked it clean in the middle of seraphim’s rambling, replacing it as quickly as she could with her hands, adding pressure. there were a few moments where the only sound was seraphim’s ragged breathing, which eventually calmed, as she braced her foot against the opening to the basement. safe in nova’s hands. “… thank you.”

“don’t mention it… but what do we do now? is the entire area down there going to be like that?”

seraphim sighed. “probably. and we could stop and look for the way that the help disarms the hallway, or we could do it my way, which will take a lot less time…” she awkwardly shifted up into a squatting position on the floor, staring down into the dark. “and because we did the right thing and properly hydrated before the jump, i should be able to do this even with my gloves on… just gotta focus for a sec…”

seraphim took one huge breath in, and out. ignore the pain. ignore it. we’ll deal with it later.

she held her palm out flat, and then lifted it. as she did, spots all along what they could see of the lower level glowed a faint lavender shade. 


nova’s eyes widened. were… were those all the traps that had been set?

seraphim raised her other hand, and tried to snap her fingers. no dice. she hissed, making an abrupt fist.

what followed was a soft cacophony of things breaking, falling, or shattering.

“morgan that was–oh!”

seraphim had yanked her mask down in time to vomit violently off to the side, rib cage moving erratically underneath her armor. it honestly didn’t make the room smell that much worse.


“are you–?”

“yeah, just uh–don’t ask me to do anything like that again for a few hours.”

“that was… amazing.”

seraphim threw her head back, laughing roughly. “yeah, we’re both pretty rad, now let’s–let’s go get this fucker so we can go home, i need to go to medical like yesterday.”



*     *     *

with the traps disabled, the going down was easy, and straightforward. they crunched over needles, arrows, and metallic shapes as they went. everything around them was like sod, with torches embedded in the walls. 


nova tried not to think about that they looked like arms, eternally smoldering just bright enough to light the way.

“what, no labyrinth of endless twisting hallways? i’m a little disappointed.”

seraphim was trying to not limp but pain spread up her leg with every step she took. shit, shit, shit. she kept glancing to nova’s hand, hoping that she couldn’t see behind her goggles. “for one, they think that the traps will kill or maim anyone not authorized to be down here. for two, if they are authorized to be down here, why waste their time?” their voices were quiet. they hadn’t seen anyone else down here, but…

the torches stopped. and there was a long stretch of darkness before they came to another pair. nova grabbed a hold of seraphim’s arm, and she let her keep it there, up until they entered the rim of a dim glow by a wall of bars.

a cell.

“kreuger.” seraphim began, gently. “… kreuger.”

“hush–exorcist.” nova’s grip on seraphim tightened as he spoke. she had to twist back when she realized she’d almost buried her face in seraphim’s shoulder out of some kind of reflex. he sounded like… the buzzing of bees, the low growl of a monster, with a canyon beneath all of it. she hated it. “i hear you… who is this? this is not john.”

“no. it’s not. enoch has… left our little club, since we last saw each other.” 


as seraphim spoke, voice laced with pain, kreuger stepped up to the light, although nova could see the backlight, inhuman reflection of his eyes before he got close to them. she wished he’d stayed away.

he did look human. almost. limbs a little too long, face a little too angular. his eyes were a solid pink, no pupils to speak of (where did the reflection come from, where did it come from?). he had horns, like a ram, that rose up and wrapped around his pointed ears in a tight spiral. 


he… was hunched over. nova felt a little bad for him, then. somewhere in her chest. like you’d pity a vulture in a cage too small.

“good. i hated him.”

“you hate everyone, kreuger.”

“oh, now, dear lady morgana, be kind. i tolerate you, do i not?”

“you’re going to do more than tolerate me here in a second, we’re here to bust you out.”

“… bust me…?” but seraphim was too busy digging into a pocket by her kneecap, pulling out a small bottle. it was crystalline, marked with a cross. holy water. kreuger’s eyes widened in what might have been surprise. “… you are releasing me.”

“psellus is not the rightful ruler of this place. you are. and i don’t know the intimate details of the politics of this fucking shitshow but you can be damned sure that where we’re from we greatly prefer lawful evil to complete, uncontrollable chaos. now if you give me one second–” seraphim uncorked the bottle and kreuger quickly recoiled back away from his bars; the senior agent hobbled along the length of his cell wall. the metal seemed to dissolve as soon as the water hit it, and then there was nothing.

nova became very acutely aware that she was standing in the same room with what was essentially a demon king.



this was going to make a good story someday.



but as he started to walk forward, there was clanking. “… shit. water can’t cut through that.”

kreuger stood to his full height as soon as he passed where his threshold had been. he was easily seven feet tall, and dressed all in black, in–a suit. this guy had a taste for aesthetics, nova would give him that. 


“everything in me is suppressed because of these chains. i do not know where psellus found them…” he had thick, chain link cuffs on both his wrists and around his ankles. it reminded nova of the same stone she’d seen on the ground where they had landed. they were massive. probably needed to be. her heart was in her throat.

“ellie, you still have your box from earlier?”

oh no.

“y-yes.”

kreuger smiled and revealed a mouth full of knives. well, fangs, but they looked like knives, for all intents and purposes. “oh how adorable! and she smells so good…” 


“can you focus that circle into a point? that circle you made?” seraphim tried to make her voice as solid, as reassuring, as possible. because now nova was staring up at kreuger’s face and maybe trembling, and-well. 


now she’d really see what she was made of.

“we–i can. yes.”

“okay. kreuger, you stay still, spread out like this. ellie, focus that thing to a point and cut through his chains.”

“you–you can’t magic them apart? like the traps?”

“oh that was you? excellent work, exorcist.”

“–thank you, your highness. and no, el, i can’t. that level of tinkering–if i tried that again this quickly there’s a good chance i’d rupture an organ. i’ve had lots of practice but there are still things i’m not able to do, not yet. ellie, look at me. … kreuger is not going to hurt you.” her face went to the king himself. “he needs us, and knows exactly what’ll happen if we don’t come home.”

“mmm, yes. how is our dear lillith.”

“she’s fine. ellie, if you would.” she stepped closer to her, muttering by her face. “i know that you’ve already burned your hand once today, do you think you can push through and do it again? if you don’t, then you’ll have to tell me how to do it.”

“no–no. i can do it.”

kreuger assumed a strange position, wrists and ankles spread apart. his gaze made nova feel naked in the worst way. 


and seraphim watched with not a small amount of pure, unadulterated admiration as ellie readied the box, and removed her glove. she was even brave enough to glance at his face once. 


“ready?”

“ready, little solider.”

solider. strange.

and it may have been to comfort her, or it may have been a warning, looking back, but as nova traced a different pattern over the top of the box–her skin feeling like it was being cut a centimeter at a time--kreuger began to talk to seraphim.

“oh lady, tell me–how has your spine been lately?”

“fine, besides the usual. why?”

“oh, no reason. i just know you wish for a certain thing.”

a heavy sigh. “not this again–”

“and you’ll get it. after… a few trials.”

another strum, like before.

kreuger was unbound.

and as soon as he was, the hallway positively lit up. the torches’ light was amplified as kreuger drew in a breath too big for human lungs, and a pair of wings, that hadn’t been there before, stretched and touched the walls with their span. “… thank you. darling little solder. darling little exorcist. i fear i am in your debt. tell me, how can i repay your kindness pending the slaughter of half of my kingdom?”

nova’s hands shook as she clipped the box back onto her belt, and she tried to focus on being able to tell wyvern and mothman how it preformed afield.

seraphim began, “we’ll call you. for now, we just need to get back to our land point so our crew can get us back.”

“oh, allow me.” without warning, kreuger put his hands on their backs, reaching around them. his limbs seem to elongate, to stretch, and nova thought to herself, hm, that’s strange, i’ve never had a hand on my back that was the entire length of my spine before.

seraphim tried to stop him, in her defense. “wait, no, kreuger, if you push us through then we’ll–”

too late. 


drake, wyvern and longma let out high-pitched shrieks as seraphim and nova were launched, unannounced, from the gate’s mouth. they landed roughly on the carpet, hacking, grasping at their masks and goggles to breathe air natural and familiar to the lining of their lungs.

“holy shit! are you guys okay? what happened?”

nova blinked at the sight of the three faces looking down at her. she smiled to the tune of seraphim’s voice.

“we fucking saved the world. … also please call karen and aly we need them like, right now.”


[harlockauxillia30k-blog]

The Siege of Terra

The Imperial Cruiser Angelus had rotten luck, it had to be said.

Exiting warpspace after a semi-blind jump into the system, the Angelus emerged amid a traitor crusade battlegroup of multiple battlecruisers. After a minutes delay, the Angelus’ void shields began to be battered by multiple close-in broadsides. Though it tried to answer, the ship was completely outmatched and outgunned. Though those aboard it had little-time to take it in, the Sol system was a complete mess. Imperial defense had already fallen back to Terra herself, already legions of steel were dueling on Mars. Already a dozen other rocks and planetoids had been invaded. Now, Terra stood, a gleaming golden pearl bleeding red, as vast swathes of the ecumenopolis burned from planet-wide fires that consumed entire hab blocks. Dead dreadnoughts careened into the planets surface, smashing layers of cities down into silent dead rubble. And all along it, along with the glimmers of cities, small lines drawn haphazardly in all directions denoted Imperial forces fighting the traitor legions bitterly for every square inch.

Harlock marveled, even as rounds impacted the voids in front of him. He saw hundreds, thousands maybe, of smaller ships as they dueled in strike craft knife fights in the silence of the void.

When he came to his senses, he saw the characteristic signs of a failing void shield, and turned to his survivors. There was the handful of Centauri riflemen, most of them bandaged and on painkillers, and Melissa, who was having a significant emotional moment as she watched the human race tear itself asunder before her very eyes.

“Listen everyone. In a minute the captain will call for the ship to be abandoned. We will land on Terra. We may be separated. If I don't get to meet any of you again, I want you to know, that it has been my god emperor damned privilege to serve with each one of you. No matter what happens.”

The survivors nodded. Sergeant York spoke up. “Served with you for about a year sir. No finer officer in the star rifles there was, before or since.”

Private Sam bit her lips. “Feth. It’s going down like this. A-alright sir. Thanks. You pulled me out of a burning wreck on Tarentum IX, i still got the scars. Lets pull the Imperium out of hell, yeah?”

Corporal Hayes grunted. “With respect? I always thought you were a son of a bitch that was trying to get us all killed with all the crazy shit we had to put up with. But some of us survived this long. Damned if that isn't providence. Hail the god emperor. May he welcome us all at his side as the heroes who died to save Him.” Hayes produced a small golden bauble, like Harlock’s, and Harlock fished his own out, nodding at the man.

Melissa, in catatonic shock, tore her eyes from a massive imperial superheavy carrier slowly shatter and die as her bow was lanced by a formation of traitor ships.

“There is no god in this universe. No benevolent ones. Not if THIS is what the innocent deserve!” she was shouting, and she wouldn't soon stop. Anyone could see that.

Harlock walked up, calm, and planted a kiss on her lips. “This will be the last time, Klicke. Who said anyone was innocent, here?” and then let her go.

[Musical cue: this track]

“Soldiers of the 2nd Centauri Star Rifles, this regiment has lived for-”

A massive explosion just rocked the ship. The shields were out. Klaxons blared.

“...has lived for over eight centuries. From its first founding, I have fought under its banner, bore witness to its great heights, during the Ullanor wars, on Feros, upon Hesperax, fighting under a dozen legions, regarded and recognized by primarchs and generals. Under this banner have a thousand villains and a million heroes served. It is with my deep resignation, I formally retire the 2nd Centauri Star Rifles. Soldiers of the emperor, present arms!”

The remnants of the regiment saluted and presented arms perfectly in the corridors of the Angelus.

“You are all for a final time DIS-MISSED. You are free citizens of the Imperium. Seek Army logisticians and financiers should you survive the coming trials for your mustering pay and backpay. You are hereby retired. God bless you all, and good luck.”

There was a moment to let that sink in, as the ship rocked and groaned and armsmen and crew dashed about the sad band of veterans.

“Get to the evacuation boats and drop pods men. You too, Adept. If we somehow survive this,the rally point is the Pistoliers Saloon in Port Vangelis, August 3rd, for war stories and drinking contests.”

With sad grins, and a hug or two, the soldiers split up. Some teamed up, hoping in numbers they would survive. Harlock looked at Klicke.

“The adepts have a good chance of having a superior escape route, and may be able to land you in safe imperial territory. Go to them. I’ll find my own way. I always do.” Harlock said, grimly. He was quite certain this was the day he would die.

Yet, he saw no reason to die aboard some random starship. He joined the throngs of soldiers who clamored for the drop pods, launching them immediately. Eventually, he came upon a man in a wide brimmed hat, a captain of armsmen, who commanded a group of terrifying youngsters guarding drop pods. “Officers and men of rank first! The rest of you degenerates second! Wait your turn and be processed, or I’ll process you!”

A man broke from the group and ran for an open pod door.

Zzot.

He lay motionless on the ground, his head smouldering.

“anyone else want to question ship policy?! You!” He pointed at Harlock.

“Thats an officers uniform alright. You’re in Pod 3C. Get moving, your going to be stuck with some commoners though. Can’t be helped.”

Harlock nodded, and walked on, getting in 3C and clicking himself in. He silently thanked that he hadnt ate anything that day; there would be no need to fear throwing up.

The soldiers in the pod were scared out of their minds. One young girl, an armsman, wept as silently as she could. Another, an army trooper, looked like he was going to bounce out of his seat. “Oh come on, let me get some! LET ME GET SOME! HORUS! COME ON!”

Others were in prayer. At least one was, somehow, impossibly, soundly asleep, his vest adorned with a half dozen melta charge cells and a meltagun secured at his side.

Harlock said nothing, and nothing was said to him. In a few moments after securing himself, the pod was launched, and Harlock got a look at just how bad the Angelus had taken it. In another minute or two, it would begin to snap and break apart; a sure sign of complete loss of all hands remaining. Harlock hoped his friends made it out.

Other pods were certainly not lucky. Chaos fighters shot them out of their descent with glee, while one actually impacted an unawareimperial thunderbolt, sending both tumbling on fire, badly smashed into pieces. Harlock’s own had a rocky ride, being struck by hundreds of chunks of space debris from the orbital battle as he approached the burning, glowing city-world of terra.

Harlock closed his eyes as he felt his pod become rocked by traitor flak guns which begged his pod come apart at the seams. It would be a bad landing. It wasnt the best possible transport for the job either. But it would happen all the same.

With a mighty thud. Harlock’s pod smashed into the smouldered, melted remains of a triad of hive spires, flattened and pancaked into a kind of artificial smolten plateau, along with hundreds of other such spires. The landscape was awash with agony, as the occasional skeleton fragment poked out of the ash of the spires occupants and the twisted corrugated metal of towers that once accurately illustrated mankinds unbound ambition, now collapsed to absolute ruin. In the distance, perhaps a few kilometers away, the Imperial palace stood, golden and beautiful, as dark forces and entire titan legions descended upon it. To recount what one could see, even this far away, is the recount the stories of literal angels and demons. Titans fought there, not mere men.

[Musical Cue: this track]

Harlock’s pod opened. The trooper who prayed was given what she had likely asked for, a swift death, as a support beam of the now badly mangled drop pod was planted into her skull, likely killing her mercifully quick. Another soldier was crying as he tried to extract his leg from depressed metal. Harlock knew in an instant his leg would not come without the pod being dismantled. He was as dead as the devotee, he merely did not know it yet.

The one next to him that had shouted lived, however, and had unbuckled himself, kicked the pod door open, grabbed his gear and began sprinting off like mad in the direction of the palace. The sleeper had awoken, presumably when the head restraint on his seat gave way and broke his neck from the whiplash of landing. Now he and his meltagun rested un-used. Harlock picked it up, remembering his dead friend, Tech Sergeant Dienes, and collected as much ammo as he could from the man, before stepping into the burning sunset of the fall of mankind. There were other imperials about too, either from pods, or who were here before, who knew. And the astartes were here. Not the friendly kind, of course. Never them.

Harlock watched an Iron Warriors terminator, strangely alone and separate from his kin (a failed teleportation, perhaps) fire his assault cannon across the plateau, killing at least five imperials that Harlock could see, and immediately dived for cover; a natural bend in the cooled melted slag of the spires. It would take quite a bit of fire from his meltagun to do it, but he was confident this terminator could be killed.

With the courage of a man who knew he was destined to die, the Major dashed forward, meltagun in hand, charges wrapped around his chest like a bandolier. Diving to the side while it strafed opposite Harlock, he fired his first shot in the terminator’s exposed leg joint, near the knee where the armor segmented the most. It was a cheap shot, as the terminator did not see Harlock approach, but effective. It was not clear if the terminator immediately lost use of his leg, or if he melted the servos, but the iron warrior was rooted in place, forced to drag the titanic dead weight of his leg as he turned, assault cannon spinning to attack his assailant. Harlock evaded a swing from his other hand- a powered fist capable of killing him in a single hit, and fired another charge of the meltagun at the terminator.

Another man, bulky, with no sleeves and a red bandana across his forehead, charged with a guttural scream, his flak jacket swinging with his dog tags in the wind, a meltabomb in hand, up to the terminator. Harlock and the terminator ceased their duel, and the major immediately dashed back, diving behind some slag. He heard the assault cannon spit out hot lead, a groan, and a click.

Immense heat washed over Harlock’s body, making him groan. He ached. His soul was broken into pieces. He now simply did as he was meant to. Kill. For the emperor.

With a grunt, Harlock pushed himself up again, supporting himself on the rubble to see what had happened. The terminator was a mess of steamy red ooze and gore as his armor had exploded into pieces. Harlock couldn't find the imperial who did it, until he noticed a lone leg, its owner long gone, hanging off a piece of rockrete.

In the distance, a chainblade whirred, and a warrior of the World Eaters legion stepped forth.

“I know you. You were on Ferros. Come, duel with me, without that weapon. You who would dare kill a brother of mine in close combat.”

Harlock remained silent, and knelt, shielding his body from the marine. After a moment, it charged, firing its bolt-pistol towards Harlock as he whirred up the meltagun. The marine dashed overhead. Harlock pointed the weapon up, and fired... hitting nothing. The world eater had dodged it, and now smacked the weapon out of Harlock’s hands with his boltpistol.

“Khorne will be pleased this day, one way or the other.” the marine growled, assaulting with the fury that would be expected of a berserker warrior.

Harlock dodged and parried, his blade intercepting assault after assault, being forced to dodge point blank hits from a bolt pistol. The marine laughed, seeing Harlock so desperate.

And then in a flash it was decided. A carefully considered shot at the marines melee hand from his plasma pistol sidearm, a parry of the bolt pistol, and a final shot to the head.

Harlock took a side step as the smouldering, twitching body of the world eater died before him, and with a limp from a minor sprain in his legs from the dodging, he picked up his meltagun.

It had been weeks since his last juvenat injection. He had never felt so old and alone. With his melta, he leaned against some of the rubble-slag, and sighed in exhaustion. He had been tired of fighting for so many years. He didn't care anymore. There was nothing left to fight for.

He wandered his plateau, creeping from cover to cover as more marines, seemingly at random, arrived. He ambushed another iron warrior kill team, killing one marine with a good melta shot to the head, a sturdy krak grenade for the next, and a final duel resolved only by stabbing his knife, given to him by an old friend in the auxillia, through the reinforced body glove covering the marines neck.

For hours, he fought. Sometimes, he would find a random imperial army trooper, assist them for a time, until eventually they died. Harlock remained there, waging his own private war as if on a chessboard, ignorant of the greater struggle. Unaware that at that moment his god emperor was aboard horus’ flagship, or that there had been a godlike defense of the palace gate, or of the heroism of the imperial fists... none of it was clear to him, as he watched the wrecks of ships smash apart spires, as deathstrike missiles detonated atomics in the distance, as millions upon millions of warriors fought below and above, here, in this strategically insignificant spot harlock deemed his final stand, Harlock fought quietly. Desperately. Like the killing machine that 800 years only of war reduced him to. A broken spirit. A broken man.

Eventually, days and days later, Imperial recon teams sweeping areas of the planet for survivors and enemies, found Harlock sat upright, in the middle of the plateau, surrounded by the dead. The old, ancient haggard man appeared to be dead, surprising the team upon his eventual glance towards the Imperial Army troopers. Had it not been in the wake of the Horus Heresy, had it not been for the wounding of the emperor and the bloody aftermath of the traitors demise upon Terra, Harlock would have been given a medal for the things the imperials saw on that plateau of corrugated metal and ruin.

But alas, it is the fate of the infantryman to be unsung, and often unmourned.With the aid of anotherman, Harlock limped to a rhino, and spent the next three months in medical care, recovering in a mass hospital that had been converted out of a shopping district.

The Siege of Terra was over. The Horus Heresy, in its most dramatic act, was over. But the galaxy fought on in bloody wars anyway.

Colonel Harlock was given command of the 93rd Centauri Star Rifles eventually. He never knew what became of the original survivors. He never truly wanted to know. All that was certain was that on August 3rd, in Pistoliers Saloon in Port Vangelis, one of the few cities not to be completely obliterated by Imperial forces in the reconquest of Centauri Prime, Harlock sat alone, consumed by thought, and deep pain. He spoke to no one, and after the day concluded, threw on his colonel’s cloak, and prepared to depart for the planet Hesperax with his new regiment. There was a chaos insurrection to put down, and the 93rd would do it- or be put to death.

[Music Cue: this track]

///

Imperial Historical Footnote: Almost no record of the 2nd Centauri Star Rifles exists today in the modern Imperium at large. Its deeds, and sacrifices, are preserved only in a small monument erected on the world of Titan-Secundus, which reads as follows:

“The Soldiers of the 2nd Centauri Star Rifles fought and bled here. We shed our lives for the Imperium and her emperor, so all men may live free, and that precious few need to sacrifice as we have done in the future. Mourn not our fallen, Remember not our deeds. Know only this, reader: great men have gone before you to sacrifice for this, our Imperium. Do not let our sacrifices be in vain.”

The monument now rests in front of the Titan-Secundus Schola Progenium in its courtyard.

///

[smol-warden]

Hell is Empty chapter 2

Chapter 2 is live! Read it on AO3 here or continue reading below the cut

Word count: 3333

The light snow flurry from earlier had turned into a proper snow shower, further blanketing the area in soft white. A herd of druffalo wandered the hills snuffling under the snow as they foraged for food. Inha watched them for a moment before returning her attention to Varric. The serenity of the atmosphere was a foil to the turmoil churning inside her.

“Okay, so, fuck,” Inha breathed out a sigh and ran her hands through her hair. Her thoughts were jumbled word garbage and her brain couldn’t make sense of them. She breathed in filling her lungs until her chest hurt and reset.

“I spend a lot of time in Orzammar, and around lyrium, so has my family; we may have been exiled but we never actually left.” Inha didn’t try to stop the prideful smirk that tugged at her lips. “While my Stone sense isn’t nearly as strong as dwarva that never leave the city, I still have it.”

Varric arched his eyebrow in a quizzical manner. “I’m failing to understand what that has to do with why you ran out here.”

“Right,” Inha rocked back on her feet and brought her hands together in front of her stomach, toying with her fingers. She shifted her weight from one leg to the other and took a deep breath.

“Well, lyrium sings to me and red lyrium is still lyrium so even though it’s not as clear as regular lyrium it sings too and what brought me out here was the tainted call of red lyrium except it was diluted as if it was mixed with something else, but it disappeared as quickly as it came it was something I’ve never felt before, I have no idea what it was.” Her words poured out of her in one long rambling sentence.

Varric’s eyes widened as she spoke. By the time she was done she could see her own surprise reflected in his gaze. Heavy silence enveloped the two dwarves interrupted only by Inha’s ragged breathing. She could feel her heartbeat in her chest and the warmth rising to her cheeks. The sound of her blood rushing in her ears was deafening.

Could she really trust Varric? Would he try to use her for his own gain or would he think she was two nugs short of a litter? Her instinct told her he was harmless but her experiences argued otherwise. She wanted to tear her gaze away from his but she was unable; all she could do was hope he wouldn’t notice her panic. They stood there for what seemed like ages before Varric answered with a whistle.

“You can hear red lyrium? What are the odds?”

Inha hung off the edge of each of his words searching for any malice or ill-intent in them. All she heard was surprise and perhaps admiration. If Varric meant any harm she couldn’t tell.

“You probably shouldn’t tell Cassandra,” he continued, “or she’ll try to use you as some kind of lyrium seeking hound.” He shook his head causing the snow that accumulated there to fall around him.

Inha lifted her hand and waved her glowing scar in Varric’s face, “I’m already her magical demon slaying bitch, what’s one more task? I’m pretty used to being passed around by the Carta.” Inha winced at her own words, they sounded harsher than she meant them.

“Hey,” Varric took her hand and guided it out of his face, “you’re not some thing that just gets tossed from person to person. You’re more than that.”

The sincerity in Varric’s voice caught her off guard and she snapped her hand away from his. He had known her for less than a day and had already accepted her without question. She took her bottom lip between her teeth and cast her eyes down. When she tried to thank him a gust of frigid wind tore across the lake cutting through her. She closed her eyes and tensed from the cold.

“Are you okay?!” Varric shouted at her but his voice sounded miles away.

When she opened her eyes white spots danced across her vision obscuring her field of view. She squeezed her eyes shut then blinked a few times before looking around. The world was fuzzy around the edges and as it came back into focus she was met with Varric looming over her. She was lying on the ground, covered in snow and soaked to the bone. Varric was kneeling beside her with one hand gripping her shoulder, his face contorted with worry.

“What happened?” Inha lifted a hand to rest on her throbbing forehead as she spoke.

“I’m pretty certain I’m supposed to be the one asking that question,” he offered her a smile. “I’m no doctor but my guess is that you fainted for a couple minutes. Your eyes rolled back and everything. Let me help you up.”

Varric stood and extended his hand out to her which she leaned up to accept. Her limbs felt like pudding, it was as if every bone in her body had been replaced with rubber as she grasped his wrist. Disconnected from her legs she struggled to push herself off the ground. She gathered her strength and with Varric’s help they managed to get her upright.

She released her vicelike grip from Varric’s wrist and pushed out a shaky breath. Inha paused for a second to test her balance shifting her weight from one foot to the other. She didn’t trust her stability yet but she took a cautious step forward. Her knees buckled under her once more throwing her off balance and sending her face first back towards the ground. She reached out to catch herself and her fingers tangled in the fabric of Varric’s clothes as she fell into him with a soft thud.

“Throwing yourself at me already, Pumpkin? At least offer a guy a drink first.” His laugh rustled her hair. “You might wanna watch what you’re grabbing, Bianca’s the jealous type you know.”

One of her hands was wrapped around his arm again, the other had a fistful of ass. Heat rose to Inha’s cheeks as she scrambled to release him.

“Holy shit, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to grab you there.” She swatted away Varric’s attempts to help her and she managed to regain her footing. “Is she here? I didn’t see anyone else. I should apologize.” Inha peered out into the snow searching for the missing figure but all she saw were the druffalo moving on for better pickings.

Varric nodded towards the crossbow strapped to his back. “That’s Bianca, she’s one of a kind. Don’t worry about her though, she might be jealous but she’s understanding. Isn’t that right, Bianca?” He all but cooed at his weapon and Inha noticed his eyes soften for a second.

“You’re absolutely soaked through.” Varric turned his attention back towards Inha. “You need to get warm and dry. Can’t do much world saving if you’re stuck in bed with a cold.”

Inha struggled to remain standing on her own accord and could feel herself swaying gently with the wind. Her body was heavy and begged to sink; her abrupt run had left her drained of all energy. Her mind raced as she tried to figure out how she was going to make the walk back to Haven. The snow was falling heavier now and the soft layer of fresh snow would make the trek even more difficult. For all she knew she had run miles from the village and in her current condition she doubted she would be able to make it more than a few feet.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of an arm sliding around her waist. She hadn’t noticed Varric adjust so that he was beside her, supporting her weight against himself. He was crouched next to her and by the time she understood what he was doing it was too late. In one fluid motion Varric stood and lifted her in his arms, one supporting her back the other cradled her knees. Inha tried to curl into a ball, a passive resistance to being carried, and the more Varric insisted the tighter she locked up.

“Stop fighting! Do you want me to drop you?” He barked at her.

“Yes! Put me down!” She tried to be authoritative but her voice was weak.

He looked down at her and she glowered at him trying to intimidate him into freeing her. She moved to better position herself for her release, instead Varric gripped her tighter and laughed. “You look like a small, wet, angry cat. You’re not as scary as you think you are right now.”

She pictured her hair plastered to her wind burned face and the way she was shying away from her icy clothes. His laugh was infectious and Inha couldn’t help the giggle that escaped at the image.

“You’re not gonna put me down are you?”

“Nope.”

“You should have asked first,” she scolded him.

Inha sighed in resignation and relaxed in his grip as he adjusted his arms under her. Varric began walking slowly at first which she presumed was to make sure she was finished struggling. He must have decided it was safe and quickened his pace. She held her arms out in front of her chest unsure what to do with them. Her cheeks burned as she stared at her hands and tried to ignore the intimacy of their position. For once the silence was welcome.

She watched as the sun dropped down the horizon taking any lingering warmth with it. They had been walking for a few minutes yet they didn’t seem to be any closer to Haven than when they started their journey back. It felt like she would freeze to death before they reached the small town. She shivered and slid her arms up Varric’s chest and brought them behind his neck lacing her fingers together.

He felt white hot under her frozen skin and she curled into his warmth. He burned around her like a fire; each step enveloped in him melting away her ice. Content, she tucked her head under his letting it rest at the base of his neck. She closed her eyes allowing him to carry her closer to the town. His heartbeat raced under her and she pulled back to gaze at him. He didn’t appear to be struggling but she could feel his heart dancing against her fingers.

“I’m not too heavy, am I? I can try walking if you want.”

“No offense but I doubt you could get anywhere on your own right now.”

“I could try crawling,” she drew the word out pronouncing each letter. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“You’re not heavy and I’m not putting you down. We’re almost back at Haven,” he looked down at her and met her gaze with a small smile. “Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. But what about you? You holding up alright?”

Inha took a deep breath in, taking a moment to think about how to answer his question. For days it seemed like everything was going on around her, like she wasn’t a part of anything. It was as if she was a statue caught in a storm being whipped by wind and pummeled by rain while stood safe in her shadow. No one had taken the time to check on her, to see how she was doing. So far, Varric was the only one who seemed to care about her as a person, not an asset.

“Honestly, I have no idea what’s going on. I thought I was a prisoner but now I’m a soldier? I can’t keep up! All I know is this is all bullshit! I mean none of this should have fucking happened!”

Her lips curled in disgust and she furrowed her brows. When she breathed in her nose stung as if she was inhaling acid. “Too many people died up there; I don’t even want to think about how many lives were lost.”

Varric nodded his head in agreement. “That makes two of us. This shit-show doesn’t make much sense,” his face turned somber, a frown pulling at the edges of his mouth. “A lot of good men and women didn’t make it out of there.”

The wall encircling Haven stood before them, large and imposing. Nearby a lone recruit was packing up the last bit of training equipment. He was young, Inha assumed he was no older than 14, a mere child training for a war that had already claimed too many lives. Bile rose in her throat at the thought of his body lying lifeless at the Breach. She was in no position to judge the recruiting habits of the Templars having grown up in the Carta but she was unable to stop the flow of her thoughts.

She watched as he picked up a sword and placed in in the mount, each movement planned out and deliberate. Had no one seen her run out or did no one care to follow her? He looked up and their eyes met, he must have sensed her watching. She offered him a smile and a wave, making sure she used her unmarked hand, which he returned before focusing his attention back on his duties.

“But not me. Why? Why am I the only one who survived? I can’t believe I’m still standing,” she paused shaking from more than just the cold, “well technically being carried but still I’m alive. And I’m happy about it. Do you know how shitty that feels? All those innocent people died and I’m relieved I wasn’t one of them.”

“For days now, we’ve been staring at the Breach, watching demons and Maker-knows-what fall out of it. ‘Bad for morale’ would be an understatement. I still can’t believe anyone was in there and lived. Being happy you’re alive isn’t the same as being happy other people are dead.” Varric looked down at her, his gaze as intense as his words. “All of us are relieved you’re here, you’re the only hope people have, but that doesn’t mean we wanted everyone else to die for it.”

“I suppose you’re right. It was pure luck I escaped and if it wasn’t for the fact that dwarva don’t dream I don’t think I would believe any of this was really happening. But if it was so bad why did you stay? Now that Cassandra has me she said you were free to go. You don’t have to tangle yourself in this, Varric.”

He carried her up the stairs and through the gate in silence. She could see him working his jaw as he tried to figure how to answer her. He shot a quick glance down at her before opening his mouth to speak.

“From where I’m standing it looks like I’m already tangled in it wouldn’t you agree? I like to think I’m as selfish and irresponsible as the next guy, but this,” he let the rest of his thought trail off. “Thousands of people died on that mountain. I was almost one of them. And now there’s a hole in the sky. Even I can’t walk away and just leave that to sort itself out.”

Her hut wasn’t far from the gate, she could already see the sconces burning on either side of her door, a trail of smoke coming from her chimney. Lit fires were scattered around the town and there was a soft buzz of conversation draped over the area. The sun had long since set and the town’s occupants were preparing to turn in for the night. Inha was eager to join them, the days’ events had wiped her of all her energy and she fought to keep her eyelids open. She would have fallen asleep in Varric’s arms if it wasn’t for their conversation.

“You might want to consider running at the first opportunity. I’ve written enough tragedies to recognize where this is going. Heroes are everywhere. I’ve seen that. But the hole in the sky? That’s beyond heroes. We’re going to need a miracle.”

“The Breach needs to be sealed; the sooner the better. You know that as well as I do,” she clenched her fists behind Varric’s neck. “And for whatever Ancestor forsaken reason I also seem to be the only one capable of doing that. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll finish this even if it kills me. It’s the least I can do for everyone that died up there. You’re stupid for even suggesting something like that.”

Varric let out a soft chuckle. “I had a feeling you would say that. For what it’s worth I think it’s good that you’re doing this. Not everyone would have stuck around.”

They came to a stop as Varric approached her hut. “Well, unless they’ve moved you I believe we’ve arrived.”

Varric had brought her so close to her door she could reach out and open it if she tried, but she didn’t. Neither of them made any attempts to change their position; their eyes were locked on each other’s. All of a sudden she became conscious of how close they were. She could see the gold flecks in his eyes and the scar from where his nose had been broken. She could feel his breath soft on her face and his fingers digging into her ribs.

“Varric,” her voice was raspy, “I have a question.” He hummed in response.

“Why did you call me Pumpkin earlier?” His pulse quickened under her fingers again but his face betrayed no emotion.

“Nicknames are kind of my thing, everyone gets one. You were so far away your orange hair looked like a Pumpkin resting on one of the hills. I can think of something else if you don’t like it.”

She shook her head. “No, I like it. There’s no need to worry. It’s just—” her breath caught in her throat and she closed her eyes. A scene from her past played across her eyelids in syncopated bursts. A dimly lit bar, patrons scattered amongst the cacophony. Orange hair tangled in thick fingers, her name whispered in her ear. The flashback ended as quickly as it started.

“Sorry,” she said with nervous laughter as she opened her eyes again. “It’s just no one’s called me that in a long time,” there was a tone of longing in her voice as she spoke. “You don’t need to think of another nickname for me.”

She beamed up at him using her wide smile to hide the devious smirk pulling at the edges of her lips. In one quick motion she thrust herself forward to plant a kiss on his cheek. The laugh that followed was genuine. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

“Alright, that’s enough outta you,” he shook his head as he spoke but Inha saw the smile he tried to hide.

He guided her to the ground as if she could break with one wrong move. Her hands slid down his chest helping her maintain her balance as she stabilized herself on her feet. She turned to face him, the cold wood of the door pressing into her back leeching the warmth out of her. She wanted to say something, anything, to keep the conversation going.

“Get some sleep, Pumpkin,” his voice was gentle. “I’ll tell Seeker to take it easy on you for a couple days.” Then without another word he turned to leave.

She called a thanks out after him and he waved behind him in response. She could feel where his hands carried her and she couldn’t stop the small smile that came across her face. She wondered why a complete stranger was taking such good care of her. She wondered why a complete stranger seemed familiar. Inha watched as he walked towards his tent nearby, toying with the stiff hem of her shirt. Once he had disappeared from her view she entered her hut to retire for the night.

[madameber]

Witchcraft

“My life is over!”

The girl downed another shot of vodka and let out a long sigh, relishing in the burning trail it left down her throat. From the other side of the counter, the bartender looked at her pityingly, and immediately refilled the girl’s glass. The afternoon sun shone happily through the windows, illuminating the nearly-empty bar.

“There, there, it’s not that bad,” said the bartender. “You thought he loved you, but he doesn’t. It’s time to move on.”

“You say it like it’s the easiest thing in the world,” cried the girl. “He told me that he was crazy about me. Said I was beautiful. He put me on a fucking pedestal, and the second another, prettier, more talented girl batted her eyelashes at him, he threw me right off. We were supposed to be staying here, together, you know. Share the room upstairs, visit all the pretty sights, spend our nights watching the stars… and here I am. Alone.” She sniffed. “Worthless.”

“And you think drinking away your problems will do the trick?”

“I’m happy to try.”

“I might have a better solution for you.”

“Oh?”

The bartender leaned forward. “If you travel down the eastern road leading out of town, you’ll come to a crossroads with a broken signpost in the middle. Take the path leading into the forest, and you’ll find a tiny cottage, with a thatched roof and a smoking chimney.”

“Who lives there?”

“Two women. Recluses. They never come into town, but they have some of the younger boys deliver the essentials right to their doorstep, leaving the money for them outside. The townsfolk don’t like them much, tend to call them “witches” – they think that if you get too close, they’ll put a hex on you, or worse. Rumor has it that those who wander into their home are never the same again.”

The girl snorted. “Surely not!”

“You can laugh, but that’s what the stories say. To be honest, I’ve never met either of them, and I’d say the same goes for most people living here. But sometimes, the odd traveler like yourself decides to go and take a look around, and when they come back – and if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed it – it’s like the whole world has opened up to them. They’re completely different for it.”

“And you want me to go to them?”

“Well, I won’t guarantee you anything. But it can’t hurt, can it? If anything, you can think of it as a nice little daytrip to get your mind off this boy. It’s a lot healthier than day-drinking, anyway. And who knows? Maybe they do work magic.”

“I don’t believe in magic,” said the girl. She traced her finger over the rim of her glass. “That being said, it’s not like I have anything better to do.”

The bartender had not warned her that the road would be so long. Her journey into the heart of the forest took her down a narrow, meandering path, obstructed by the overgrown roots of old trees and the odd anthill. She’d walked off all the intoxication from her system, and while the shade from the trees kept her cool her throat burned for water. Maybe the bartender had been winding her up, had grown tired of her incessant moaning and decided to get rid of her for the rest of the day, lest she scare of future customers with alcohol-induced tears.

Yet, just when she was considering admitting defeat and making her way back to the inn, the path before her grew brighter, and the trees stayed back as she stepped into the sunlight. She had emerged into an almost perfectly circular clearing, where the grass reached up to her knees, sprinkled with tall stalks of lavender here and there. In the middle stood a small cottage with a thatched roof. And, just as the bartender had promised, a thick cloud of smoke was rising from the chimney. The cottage was a shabby little thing, composed of dirty stone and topped with clumps of straw. A poorly constructed fence snaked its way around the building, barely enough to ward off the most determined of visitors. The squeaky, wobbly gate did nothing to halt her progress, nor did the strong smell of something that was not-quite tobacco, but not not tobacco, either. Through the closed door she could hear wild laughter, a vibrant sound which ceased the moment she knocked.  

“Better open the door yourself, love, we’re not too eager to get up right now,” called a voice, followed by a bout of giggles.

The girl pushed the door open. It was a bright, beautiful day outside, but the curtains were shut, and the small, cluttered room was illuminated with the glow of small tea lights scattered here and there. There were shelves filled to the brim with glass jars, containing plants, herbs, flowers, and glittering rocks. The floor was hidden beneath a brown patterned carpet, and even that was hard to make out between the colorful cushions splayed around the square, antique coffee table sat in the middle of the room. On opposite ends of the table, wreathed in smoke, lounged two women.  

One was clearly taller than the other, her long legs stretched out beside the table, while the other sat-cross legged, elbows resting on her knees. The lanky one had massive hazel eyes, and her thick black hair was twisted into a messy braid that crept down the sleeveless khaki blouse she wore. The other girl, slightly plumper, with chipmunk cheeks and full lips, wore her hair in an afro, and hid her shape beneath an unflattering gray dress.

“Come in, quick, and close the door!” she commanded, and the girl immediately did as she was told. “What brings you to our home?”

“The bartender at the inn in town told me about this place,” said the girl. “My week has been absolute shit. I was supposed to be here with my boyfriend, but the bastard left me for another girl.”

“And what exactly does that have to do with us?”

“Well, she said that you might be able to help me, that rumor has it you could –”

“What, fix a broken heart?” the taller one cackled, taking a long drag of what looked like a cigarette. “Oh lord, do you hear this girl, Reina?”

“Loud and clear, Gail,” said the other woman. She levelled a cool stare towards the girl in the doorway, dark eyes glinting in the low light. “Tell us, child, what else would you have us do for you? Take away your suffering? Curse the man who hurt you? Draw you a map that leads straight to your one true love, so you can avoid all the pitfalls along the way?”

“Here, girl, why don’t you take drag of this?” said Gail. The bracelet on her wrist jangled noisily as she offered the thin white cylinder to the girl.

“No thanks,” said the girl, finally connecting the dots in her head. “I’m not interested in getting high right now. Drunk, perhaps. But I’ll settle for water. It was a long walk.”

“Yeah, we’d hoped that would stop strangers from wandering over here,” said Reina, slowly picking herself up from the floor. “And yet, while those from the town know to stay away, we still get the odd stray poking around. I don’t know what they told you, child. That we’re demons? Witches? That we can cast spells and fly on brooms and eat children? That we can fix what’s broken? It doesn’t matter. The peace of mind you’re looking for isn’t here.” She made her way through a narrow doorway, and returned a few seconds later with a clay jug and three cups balanced in the crook of her arm. Placing them on the table, she filled one with water and gave it to the girl. “We’re not magic. Not witches. Just people.”

“Now, that’s not true,” said Gail, her wide smile revealing a slight gap between her front teeth. “I’ve got all the peace of mind I need wrapped up nice and tight right here. One puff, and everything goes away. If that isn’t witchcraft, I don’t know what is.”

The girl sank down onto a cushion, her spirits sinking alongside her. Reina followed suit, took the spliff from Gail, and exhaled smoke rings which travelled across the room, breaking into lines and squiggles as it crept towards the fireplace and up the chimney.

“So, this boy broke your heart,” Reina stated. The girl nodded, and without realizing what she was doing, reached out to take a drag herself. A stillness settled over her bones, and she blew the smoke out in one long sigh. Gail smiled approvingly, while Reina shook her head. “Tell me something new. Everyone who visits always brings their problems along with them.”

“Damn stupid problems as well,” said Gail. “It’s not really a problem if it’s got an easy fix.”

“Mine is easy to fix?” asked the girl. What did that even mean? Was there hope for her just yet? The moment she stepped through that door, she’d felt devoid of all hope, having found the rumored almighty witches to be nothing more than two pot-smoking hermits.

“Yes. Gather some wood. Strong, wood, mind you. None of them twigs fallen from trees, you need some proper, thick wood. Take that wood, and build a bridge. It doesn’t have to be a very big one, it can be an itty bitty arch. Build that bridge, and then – I hope you’re still following, girl – get over it.”

The women erupted into a cacophony of giggles, and the girl huffed, folding her arms across her chest. “Unhelpful.”

“Shouldn’t have expected anything more,” said Reina.

“Girl, I’ve had my heart broken so many times the pieces have started to travel ‘round my body,” said Gail. “You’d have to check my ankles for a pulse.”

“And how did you get over it?” asked the girl.

“Who said she had?” teased Reina, earning herself a dirty look from Gail. “Oh, don’t be mad – I’ll tell you what, I’ll take care of rolling the next spliff, alright?”

Pouting, Gail looked away, muttering something sinister under her breath.

“Dear god,” said the girl. “I’m going to end up like you, aren’t I? Wasting away in some forest, crying my eyes out over a boy who won’t give me a second thought anymore.”

“Who said anything about crying their eyes out?” asked Gail. “Don’t misinterpret our situation.”

“But this is what you do, isn’t it? You sit down, get high, and repeat.”

“We’re also growing a garden,” said Gail.

“I’d say it’s more of a plant right now,” said Reina. “We were herbologists, back in the day. After studying herbs for so long, it’s nice to bring your own to life. We’ve just been taking our time.”

“Sounds like a waste of time,” said the girl.

“To you, sure,” said Reina, a rueful grin playing on her lips. “But it’s our time, and we’ll choose what we do with it. We don’t like the way they do things in town. We didn’t like the people we worked with, the people we slept with, none of them. There was so much we couldn’t stand, that we left. I haven’t regretted a single moment since.”

“You’re such hypocrites!” The girl’s outraged cry startled the women, and she leapt to her feat, her blood boiling. “You sit here mocking me, poking fun at the fact that I’m miserable because the only guy in the world I want doesn’t want me anymore, and yet you’ve isolated yourselves completely from society just because you ‘didn’t like it.’”

Without warning, Gail stood up, towering a full head over the girl. As she stepped closer, so close the girl had to tilt her head back to look Gail in the eye, the girl’s heart began to hammer. As Gail slowly pressed her index finger against the girl’s chest, she had a horrible feeling that maybe she was wrong, maybe these two were witches, and for a moment wondered whether Gail would keep on pressing until her hand was in the girl’s ribcage, fingers locked tight around the girl’s beating heart.

Instead, all she felt was a light jab.

“It’s not ‘giving up,’ girl,” said Gail. “This isn’t escapism, and we’re not miserable. This is my version of a life well-lived, and of time well spent. Coming here was a choice. And guess what? We all have choices. If you choose to be miserable over a man who’s chosen to be happy with somebody else, that’s on you.”

“We’re happy,” added Reina, who had busied herself with rolling the next spliff. “It was a decision well made. The real question is, what will yours be?”

As the girl stepped back into the late afternoon sun, a slight breeze playing with her hair and the intermingled scents of lavender and cannabis following her into the forest, her step was a little lighter. She wasn’t over her heartbreak just yet. Certainly not. But somehow, she felt better off than before. After all, she had a choice.

She would always have a choice.