- Invitation Status
- Looking for partners
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per day
- Multiple posts per week
- Online Availability
- It varies wildly.
- Writing Levels
- Advanced
- Prestige
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Nonbinary
- Primarily Prefer Female
- Genres
- I'm open to a wide range of genres. Obscenely wide. It's harder for me to list all I do like than all I don't like.
My favorite settings are fantasy combined with something else, multiverse, post-apoc, historical (mixed with something else), and futuristic. I'm not limited to those, but it's a good start.
My favorite genres include mystery, adventure, action, drama, tragedy (must be mixed with something else and kept balanced), romance (again must be mixed, and more.
I'm happy to include elements of slice-of-life and romance, but doing them on their own doesn't hold my interest indefinitely.
"Sir, we've captured the family."
Jade overheard from her cell, and she felt her stomach drop out from inside her. Lungs couldn't get enough air, and arms and legs went from cold to ice.
Sweat dripped down Hegga's forehead, and the Hunter wiped it away.
"Sorry," the sweating woman breathed.
She looked toward Hunter Heggala, a new acquaintance since the end of the war, and at the sight of tears on someone so tall and muscular, Jade felt her throat close up tight. The Lady couldn't breathe. Only a single high-pitched whine escaped.
Another voice came from outside the cell, "Transport them to the appointed location."
Jade's shaking only increased with her dread. They had her wife and children now, and maybe more—did they have her brothers or sisters? Had they caught her niblings or grandkids or grand-niblings, or maybe her parents? She didn't think she had any aunts or uncles or cousins, but surely they wouldn't have her grandparents.
Each face danced through her mind. She lost several nephews, a sister, a brother, and some in-laws in the final battle; her bodyguards and her closest friends were among them. Unifiers burned the bodies to "prevent regeneration".
It felt unreal until she was unceremoniously introduced to Heggala by being tossed into the same cell as her, and the teal-clad Hunter sarcastically asked what she was in for.
Now, on their way to 'the appointed location', the two remained close within their shared cell as the floor shifted beneath them.
They landed.
⋯﴾⛧﴿⋯
Jade stumbled down the ramp last. Out of all of the people present, she was the only prisoner who wore regular handcuffs. The rest wore thick, silver-alloy shackles, one each on their upper arms and one on their wrists. They retained their clothes, including jackets, and Jade even noticed daggers still in place on their belts, but everyone was very, very still.
As she descended further, the reason came into sight.
Cuffed and held at gunpoint, her wife and children knelt in front of a row of Unifiers.
Chill wind cut through Jade's shirt and pants, and her token struggles ceased. She moved quietly forward, to stand in front of the row of Hunters, where she felt her cuffs shift. An experimental tug and a glance back revealed what they did—they chained her to a ring in the icy ground.
Sounds came from behind, and another soldier secured a gag around Jade's head, so tight it left her dizzy from the pressure on the base of her skull, and the large knot dug into her small mouth. A few layers of cloth wrapped around the lower part of her face. She squirmed, but stilled as the soldier gagging her glanced toward her family.
Both soldiers stepped away, and one tapped his earpiece.
"Sir, all are positioned at the appointed location," he paused, and then, "Understood." He turned toward the soldiers who held Jade's family at gunpoint, then lifted his right hand. With the arm aimed at Jade's oldest adopted child, Carman, he suddenly dropped the limb. "Eliminate the heirs."
Jade looked toward Carman, eyes wide. She tried to ask what was happening, but couldn't speak.
Silence filled the air.
The gunshot was deafening by comparison. Jade screamed into her gag and tried to pull herself forward as realization and grief spurred her to try, even if it was useless, to protect her family.
She lunged forward. The ground met her face and slammed against her jaw. Dazed, she watched as another soldier lifted Sophia's head, then blasted her face away from behind. Carman and Sophia both fell forward as the soldiers released their grip on them, then kicked their backs.
Next in the line was Alabaster. Apprenticed to the hidden god of the forge, the girl was only just getting past her rebellious stage and starting to bond with her family again. She helped to create new weapons for the Hunters, and from her place on the ground, Jade watched as a soldier yanked the girl's head back and shot her in the same manner as her siblings.
No.
This couldn't be real.
She didn't have time to ponder. Sol and Lune, her two youngest at only six years old, were the next in line. The Unifiers pushed them to the ground before shooting, because they were so small.
Jade's gag muffled her wordless scream of loss as blood stained the snow and ice. She screamed again as Jacquelynn's head yanked back next. A glimmer of liquid on her face revealed that unlike the others, she was aware. Another scream ripped from Jade as Jac-lee's face exploded outward.
"No!" she tried to screech as her throat tightened.
Dravite, Amber, and Quartz's heads drew back as soldiers gripped and pulled them by the hair.
A high noise sounded from her strangling windpipe as tears fell from wide eyes. She tried to crawl forward, and her chest scraped painfully against the frozen ground.
Cabochon, Lapiz, Malachite, and Opal. Garnet, Amethyst, Ruby, and Pearl. The remaining eight children fell.
All of her children, from the oldest at thirty-four to the youngest six year olds, rested on the stained snow. The jaws that remained hung open limply. Grey mush seeped from a bloodied void. Fragments of bone stood out in vivid white. Pearl, her sweet artist, stared with one remaining eye at her. This was her fault. The stink of bowel and bladder seeped in slowly through the gag. Every aspect of the scene bored into her mind. Jade couldn't pull her eyes from their still forms until a quiet voice broke through the sound of her own keening.
"Beloved, I'm..."
Red eyes jerked toward the last of her family—her wife and twin. Blue eyes stared back at her. They shared their large eyes, their slender figures, their hair, their faces—but Jade lacked the grace of her twin, and as she stared at the face that was the light to her darkness, she saw a gun approaching her sister's head. A hand grabbed Topaz's hair by the bangs and forced her head upward as the gun came to rest out of Jade's sight.
Topaz inhaled sharply and closed her eyes. "I will wait for—"
And then her face was gone, and she fell.
⋯﴾⛧﴿⋯
A voice buzzed at the edge of Jade's consciousness, "Alright. Get the Hunters and Jade sealed into that cave. I want out of here before my dick freezes off."
Another voice chimed in, "What are we doing with the bodies?"
"Leave 'em. Humans don't come back like Hunters."
Jade's cuffs dug into her wrists as someone lifted her by them, then dragged her along the ground. A cold steel muzzle pressed itself under her chin as the surviving Hunters, Trainers, Trainees, and Artisans filed past, into a dark cave. Shoved in last, she made no move to stop herself from falling.
The light from outside faded with a rumble.
An hour passed in silence.
"Fucking cock sucking sons of bit-!" A sob interrupted Hegga's cursing.
"Shut up, teal-lover," Kina spat, and a heavy clank followed. "Enough of this. This is not the first time we have been put in the ground. We need to regroup and fight ba—"
A long, high keening escaped Jade's throat, and Kina fell silent mid-word.
⋯﴾⛧﴿⋯
Whack!
Michael tumbled through the cavern and landed on a pile of rocks. The adolescent groaned and rubbed at his head, and as the dizziness faded, he jumped to his feet and looked around, eyes wide in the magic-lit cavern. Silence followed, but that wasn't right. His breath fogged the air and reminded him that if he could see it, so could his trainer. He inhaled sharply, then held it as he looked around.
He's gotta be here somewhere, he can't go through wal—
The thought was interrupted by a sudden reminder that yes, his trainer could.
The punch sent him stumbling, but he caught himself and in a flash of blue-grey, he soared into the wall to join the assailant.
Existing in the same space as solid rock slowed his mind and distracted him, and after a few moments, he forgot another lesson his trainer always tried to teach him—don't try to breathe while ghosting.
When the fourteen year old woke, he coughed out some dust, then looked up into the face of his trainer.
"Again," Zippo started, but stopped as they both heard unfamiliar footsteps approach. The figure that emerged into their lit cavern drew a gasp from Zippo, and only a silent stare from Michael.
Zippo rose suddenly and began to approach the tiny woman. "Lady Jade!" He knelt before her. At only two feet tall, the difference in height astounded Michael as he watched and listened in as the two spoke quietly.
The strange woman didn't offer greeting to Zippo at all, but instead turned her red-eyed gaze toward Michael. "That is... my grand-nephew?"
The Trainer looked back to Michael, then returned his gaze to Jade. At that moment, it clicked in his mind—this was their leader. For the first time in his life, he was looking at the leader of the Hunters, and she was so heartbreakingly tiny, with eyes that showed nothing of the cute prankster and brilliant leader from the stories.
She began to walk past Zippo, but paused and looked at him. "Thank you, Trainer Zippo. Please, allow us a few moments' privacy."
Without a word, Zippo left, and Michael was faced with his biggest curiosity—the mysterious leader. The stories about her the others told always made her sound so much grander.
Jade approached Michael, footsteps careful as she kept her gaze locked onto his face until she stood before him. He realized then why people mentioned 'having to' kneel. She didn't demand it, nor was her presence that overwhelming; the alternative was neck pain.
Slowly, unsteadily, Michael knelt.
"Um," he started, but stopped as her gaze remained unwavering. Did she ever blink?
The silence stretched too long. Despite the cold, a bead of sweat ran down the back of Michael's neck. He forced himself to remain still despite the tickle, and clenched his fists at his sides. He took a breath to try to continue.
"You are Nephew Kindall's son," Jade interrupted, "and a Trainee under Trainer Zippo. I am your great-aunt, if nobody has told you yet, and my name is Jade Jemson." The tiny woman's monotone drone nagged at Michael, but he forced himself to pay attention anyway, and he nodded. She continued, still unblinking, "I have a favor to ask of you, Grand-nephew Michael."
"Y-yeah?" he stuttered, and internally cursed at himself for it.
"Attend to me tomorrow. I," she paused momentarily, "I feel something will happen."
⋯﴾⛧﴿⋯
"Tomorrow" came, and so did the end of the world, but years beyond that day, Michael remembered with absolute clarity the moment everything went wrong. Now, on the twelfth anniversary, he prepared his own 'celebration'. The thin young man held a single, silver earring between his fingers as he looked at it. It wasn't the usual stud or bar—this was a small hoop, made by the hand of someone he didn't know.
The starved corpse at his feet wouldn't notice being less one earring—it hadn't noticed the last five times Michael came to this fragment after finding the body.
He approached the usual mirror: an uneven thing that made his chin look gigantic, and looked himself over.
"Nose this time," he decided aloud, then took a slow, deep breath as he lifted the silver ring in front of his face and carefully opened it. The metal burned his fingers anew, and he hissed through his teeth, but refused to let go. He'd been touching silver most of his life, dealing with the pain of it. He could bear it. His hand shook as he lifted it up in front of his face.
With a quick stab, he tore it through one of his nostrils, then secured it as he felt it burn at his skin. Tears came as the sensitive flesh steamed, and he gritted his teeth. Breathing through them, he forced his hands into his hair and gripped it tight so he wouldn't yank the piercing out.
"I've felt worse," he forced himself to say. "This is the reminder of the wor—"
The piercing shifted as snot began to flow, and he interrupted himself with a loud curse, then pounded his chest with one fist. "I'm a Hunter, damn it!" Another pound, and he leaned forward to rest his forehead against the cold wall of the tomb to wait out the pain.
⋯﴾⛧﴿⋯
Elite Ranger Sergeant Natalie Collins adjusted her uniform hat. She had her mission, and it was unusual. Instead of going out with a partner, she was tasked with finding someone from the Fragments to help with the search.
She assumed it was because her last partner filed for reassignment after their last mission. It didn't affect her too much—she'd already forgotten his name. Regardless, it was time to get to work, and she nodded to the transporter pad technician.
Her body stretched impossibly upward as the pad began to glow under her feet. Natalie reminded herself it was just a trick of the mind, even as she snapped back to her proper height.
She had time to see greenery around her only briefly before she fell the remaining centimeter to the ground. She fell onto her rear with a curse.
"Fucking tech can't aim!" The woman rose to her feet, then tapped her earpiece. "Elite Ranger Sergeant Natalie Collins reporting. I've landed safely, though my technician should double-check landing protocols. We should be landing on our feet by now, not in the air. I'm going to start heading eastward."
"Thank you for your report. Please proceed," came the pleasant voice within her ear.
Natalie smiled, then hefted her duffel onto her shoulder and began to walk.
This fragment had very little life left to it, based on the report. No detectable intelligent life forms, and most of the native organic stuff was just plants. Still, that didn't mean intelligent life wasn't present—scans weren't always accurate—and it didn't mean she could be careless. She kept a wary eye on her surroundings. If all went well, she wouldn't find anything of note except for maybe a red-eyed blonde with huge knockers. Natalie's teal uniform blended in decently well with the leafy environment, but the gleaming gold? Less so.
According to what she read, the last pair sent to this fragment never reported back. Either something was out there, or the idiots walked off the edge.
⋯﴾⛧﴿⋯
Father.
It was the only thought that went through her mind. She needed to find him. He was alive somewhere. One foot lifted and moved forward, and her weight fell onto it. The process repeated, and she took another step forward. Her fevered mind barely remembered how to walk.
Unfocused eyes lifted briefly from the ground before her, and a hazy figure gently turned her away from a rut in the packed dirt road.
She didn't understand, only obeyed the guidance until it faded. Her steps continued.
Father.
Thin legs carried her onward as black hair fell into her face. She would have looked like a preteen, if not for her weighty chest. A sequined red dress hugged her narrow body, and over it, a coat of too many pockets. Through some miracle, the girl's pace continued slow and steady despite the high heels she wore. Even her slowly-closing eyes could not impede her progress.
Lucky!
She heard it, but not with her ears, and she paused mid-step as, for a moment, she felt an influx of energy. Some of the clouds from her mind cleared, and she lifted her head to find a man before her.
Tall and thin, with a black bodysuit, he held her shoulder with one large hand. His other hand hooked her dress with a finger before he yanked downward, and her breasts spilled over its top, The stranger fondled them shamelessly, only to pause as he felt the unnatural warmth of her skin through his gloves.
Slowly, he moved his hand to her mouth and pushed it in, then glanced to one side as his visor gave a reading as his other hand continued to play with her chest. "Huh. Sick little thing, aren't you? That fever probably has your brain cooked useless..." He spoke in Finnish.
Her jaw slowly rose and fell as she weakly chewed the man's covered finger.
Finally, the man sighed. "Damnit, I'm desperate, but not... that much." He pulled his finger from her mouth and fixed her dress, then stared down at her. "Look like a kid, anyway. Come on. I'll take you to base—"
A sudden voice filled her mind and forced away the half-formed thoughts within.
It's going to fall.
Panic.
She reached out suddenly and grasped his hand. "Not that... way..." She began to walk, pulling him as she turned to a path adjacent. "Falling..."
"Wait, wha—" Despite his confusion, he followed as she led him. A misty figure led her, invisible to the man.
Despite his complaints and questions, she led him from the fragment as it began to shake underfoot. Long-dead brambles gave way to nothingness and the sight of a thick rope bridge that linked this fragment to the next. The woman stopped at its edge, and the man looked back in time to see a skyscraper begin to sink in the distance behind them.
"Vittu!"
He picked her up under one arm, then began across the bridge slowly, a curse accompanying each step. Below was nothing—literally nothing, unless you counted what looked like static from an ancient and broken television screen.
The rope bowed and swayed beneath him, and every movement from their starting point sent vibrations through it until he finally jumped the last meter and let himself and his little good luck charm fall onto the vibrant blue grass. Loud cracks and explosions from behind drew his attention, and he slowly turned to look.
His home fragment was bisected. Half of it tilted down and away, and slowly slid down into the sea of void below. Half of his base was visible on it, with the walls ripped away. Thankful for enough distance that he couldn't make out the figures within, he crawled further from the edge.
"Lucky me, I guess," the man murmured as he stared at all four and a half feet of tiny woman. Laying on the ground where he dropped her, she looked strange to him, almost like her proportions weren't human.
"So, you're probably not even sentient anymore, but I'm Usko, and I was planning to do bad things to you, but uh... You saved my life, so maybe not."
Usko wiped his nose as the scent of rot caught it. "It reeks here."
Ortega's Side:
Silver gleamed from the shadows of the ruins Ortega now called home as the lich turned the dagger between the tip of his middle finger on his left hand and his pointer finger on his right hand, his cold blue eyes on the two captives. How long had it been? Since they had arrived on this fragment? At least they no longer wore that disgusting color. No. It was stained red now. A much greater improvement. An undead stood at the door, the tattered leather jacket a reminder.
"Still haven't learned, have you? Unifiers." He spat at the ground at the word. It was a foul taste on his tongue, that word. Them. They... they destroyed everything. It left everything broken. Him. Broken.
"How many lives have you taken, maggot? How many lives... must... cease... before you idiots will learn?"
The dagger blade's tip sliced across the man's cheek, leaving a thin slice, no thicker then a paper cut, across his captive's face. The movement was quick, retaliatory.
"Ortega, how many times do I have to tell you? This won't bring anyone back!" He ignored the words in his ears, though he knew she knew he could see and hear her. The side effect of his heritage, of his coming to power. He snarled, flashing teeth in frustration, letting the Unifiers in front of him see for a moment, through the veneer of normalcy, the skull underneath.
They would pay for all they'd taken. So much life. So much death...
The man remained silent. His eyes twitched slightly at the slice, and he gave no response to the sight of Ortega's skull without flesh. Skin once healthy and pink looked ashen. Still, after a few short moments, he answered the man.
"None," he said through cracked lips as he closed his eyes. This was the private's first time in the field. When he joined, they assured him the job was primarily to offer assistance to locals and to keep an eye open for the one responsible for the Shattering.
They said the rumors of a Last Hunter were false.
"Please stop," he begged as his voice cracked. One tear fell, and then another. His whole body hurt so much he barely felt their salt in the fresh cut. Underground, within these ruins, none would find them. Their earpieces were useless. He hung from the wall, uniform caked in blood, sweat, and wastes. Every breath felt like a labor, easier to stop than keep going, but his body still had the strength, and he couldn't stop.
His voice cracked again as he pleaded, "I wanna go home."
On the floor, his partner slowly edged away from Ortega. A more veteran soldier by five years, she thought that coming from a place with a tyrant in power would give her an edge. Her ego faded with her strength. One of her legs hurt constantly and smelled of rot, and she wasn't sure if she still had toes on the other foot or not. Her uniform, crusted with blood, rubbed her raw and left blisters and sores, and being forced to sit in her own waste didn't improve her condition.
No longer did she even care about the partner she once tried to encourage and talk through the first days. She didn't have the strength for compassion anymore. Half-feral eyes watched Ortega, unfocused but wary.
The young man's words brought a snarl to the mad man's lips. His eyes flashed with anger and his knuckles turned white around the hilt of his beloved dagger. Home? Home no longer existed! And he dared deny his involvement in what was the end of the world?
Blue eyes turned to the half feral one and he growled, his steps quick and long. The dagger tip under her chin forced her to look up at him, his eyes narrowed at her. "Woman, tell me. What made you so sure that fusing all of the worlds together would work? So many different people, such different magics... What made you think this would work? And when were you planning on telling him that home no longer exists? That those you help die day by day as more and more withers away?"
Kira's fists clenched at her sides. Nothing she did or said caught his attention, not when he was like this. He was too far gone... She turned, heading up the stairs, past little Artemis. She swallowed. There was none of that spark, none of the fire that made the little fire demon left. How was this acceptable? She drifted up the stairs, wishing to feel anything again. The air was clear and fresh compared to that deep in the dungeons. She looked around. This... this wasn't Ortega.
Fear painted every aspect of the woman's face as he forced her to look at him. She had no answer. She too was too young in her service to know, and too pained and fearful to find the words.
Voices came suddenly from somewhere above—children's voices laughing.
"It isn't safe here! Even the Unifiers abandoned the bridge, and they're idiots! Get back here!"
"No!" crowed a little girl, only to gasp suddenly.
"Actually, our troops went missing. Your friend is right, though. It isn't safe. Come on, I'll escort you to the bridge," a mature-sounding woman interrupted the children's play. Both children shrieked, as did the older scolding person.
Once they stopped, the mature-sounding woman spoke again. "I'm serious. It's not safe. I don't care if you don't like us, but please, let me get you to safety. Which fragment did you come from?"
Silence, and then an uncertain voice answered, almost too quiet to hear from the ruins, "It's the one close, with the lone wolf on the flag." It was the older voice that tried to scold the children earlier who answered.
"That one? It's pretty close. Come on, then. If you don't trust me, I can walk in front."
Kira looked out over the land, the bridge, a snarl crossing her features at the teal lover that escorted the children. She wished she could do something, anything to make her pay... but then, her thoughts went to Ortega down in dungeon far below. If she started following that path, then she'd be no better then him, would she?
The old Huntress drifted back down the parapets and crumbled, ruined stairs. She had to get through to the lich she had once called a friend. Losing so many though had caused his mind to all but snap, though. That's what it felt like. She had lost her long time friend and she needed... she needed to fix him.
Children. The laughter and screams of children made the old man pause, his head tilting slightly to the side as he listened. It was something he hadn't heard in a long time, and he closed his eyes, relishing it. His eyes opened again, glaring at the two Unifiers he held captive. "... I have no home. Not anymore. I had people I loved, a kingdom with subjects that loved me and my Queen... Children who adored me."
He slowly moved, as if suddenly weary and exhausted. How long had it been since the man had last slept? He didn't know. But he couldn't kill them, either. No. He couldn't. They were innocents in a way, and he snarled.
"And then you... Unifiers... threw everything together, melded worlds and broke apart things... To make a single world... and you ruined it. You could not hear the screams of the world spirits as they were forced into the same space... No... could not hear the calamities as weather systems clashed... as people died under your care... And you... you called us the villains."
He tucked his weapon away and slowly, bit by bit as he spoke, he undid their bindings. First, the man's. He let the man slump against him. He had time. While the woman, a teal lover, took the others back to their homes, he had time to hide himself again. He seemed to have regained some sanity, if only for the moment. Slowly, he set the man in the arms of the risen dead that stood at the door. "Take him outside. Do not be seen."
The dark haired man nodded, bowed ever so slightly, before he turned and left, taking the man to the outside, where skeletal trees desperately clawed at the air, desperate for anything the soil and sky could give. He then turned to the woman. "He was a friend once... but you executed him. Murdered."
It was her turn, and he cradled her in his arms like he would a princess. His princess. She had been his world... and he had fled from her, to keep her safe. And she still had his means of existing. He couldn't help but give a small laugh, coarse and at one point deep. But that was a long time ago. "I suppose now I am what I hunted. Now I am the villain... But you made me this way."
He took her up stairs, around spiraling towers and to the main ruins, where he set her next to her male cohort. He looked to the male zombie who had helped and nodded to him. Phil. Always obedient. Not that he had a choice anymore. "Go back inside."
He looked out over the land, before he followed his 'assistant' back inside the ruins, careful to mask their prints as he went back inside.
Both of the Unifiers, too terrified and in pain to do much beyond try to gain distance, couldn't even do that much. The boy cried and babbled quietly to himself, and the woman cringed and tried to squirm from Ortega's grip.
Her body felt almost painfully hot in Ortega's arms as fever from an infection burned at her. She'd lost weight since he brought her to this place—a lot of it. She couldn't move on her own when he placed her beside her partner, though she tried to get herself away from Ortega the moment he released her. All she managed was to fall onto her side and black out as a fresh jolt of pain traveled through her leg.
The boy babbled uselessly. He tried to call for his mother and father, but neither was there. He knew only fear now, and madness too.
Natalie finished escorting the children back to their homes, where parents glared at her until she put her hands up.
"Not here to do anything but deliver these kids back to their families," she assured. "They were on the next fragment, which is too dangerous. People have been going missing."
"Missing?" One of the parents prompted after a few moments.
"Yes, sir. Our soldiers from the outposts started to go missing, and it grew into a pattern. We were forced to withdraw them. A team was sent to investigate, but they went missing. I was only on there because a scan said it was safe, but those scans aren't very reliable."
The man frowned and looked toward the two children, then pointed to a house. "Rooms. Now."
The two children fled, and he looked toward the third from the group Natalie brought back.
"You, go back to your room at the hotel. I'm done with you influencing my children." A glare brought tears to the young woman's eyes.
"S... s-sorry... I didn..."
"Didn't think? No, I know. Go."
She nodded, then fled.
He watched her go, then looked back to Natalie, arms crossed. "When are your people going to put people back on the bridge?"
Natalie blinked at the sudden question, but continued to stand straight. "We plan to send scouts through to comb the fragment. Once we establish it safe enough to hold troops regularly, we'll start assigning regular troops to each outpost."
"How long?"
She blinked at him again. Did he have any idea what he was asking her to guess? After a moment, she sighed. "I don't know, sir. I'm not privy to such information."
The man grunted, then waved with one hand without uncrossing his arms.
God, Natalie hated his type. Eager to hate Unifiers, but they sure liked the safety of outposts nearby. She forced herself to smile and nod before she walked away from him. At the edge of the bridge, she stopped and pulled out her phone to send an update on her status that didn't involve being overheard by wary locals.
Her earpiece blipped, and a voice spoke from it, "Thank you for your report. Please proceed with the search as you see fit. As a reminder, you are currently a Lone Wolf unit. It is suggested you find assistance."
Natalie texted back an acknowledgement, then took a moment looking to the fragment she'd left, and then around the current.
Where did she want to start? Lone Wolves didn't live long, usually dying in their first solo mission, and those were just corporals. As a sergeant Lone Wolf, she was expected to pull the weight of at least six people that didn't exist, plus her own.
She removed her hat, ran her hand through her hair, then replaced her hat. Frankly, she wasn't thrilled by the idea of returning to that ghost fragment, but something nagged at her about it, like she should at least look around. From here, she could see some ruins, like an ancient castle.
She'd always wanted to explore one, but her legs wouldn't take the first step toward it. Her gut told her it was dangerous.
The Huntress leaned against the crumbling wall of the ruins, feeling her essence wane slightly. She was strongest, most firm to the touch and to sight, the more insane the man was. But that was to make herself more known. When he retreated like this, came back to his senses for the most part, she lost some of that physicality. She didn't mind; it made it easier to keep an eye on what was left of the victims. Kira eyed them, her heart breaking at what the man had accomplished to these... She didn't know what to call them right now. She had always hated the Unifiers. They had taken so much from her and everyone and they continued to try and help. They had done this to the worlds...
She shook her head, looking towards where the civilization barely clung on. She needed to make sure these two were found. Maybe there was still hope yet for them. She pushed her foot off of the wall, using that to sprint ahead towards the village. She stopped at the bridge, as if running into yet another wall there. Sharp eyes looked out across the simple bridge, gaze landing on Natalie. An Unifier. Help.
"I've found some survivors! Help!" She couldn't carry them both. Couldn't even carry one. She hoped her form of a torn and battered Hunter's jacket, slim frame under jeans, shirt and ballistic vest, was obvious and clear to any who viewed her. She put so much into it to try and get those two help. "I can't carry them both! Please!"
Natalie's gaze jerked toward the sudden movement, and then the movement solidified into a woman—a woman in a very recognizable coat. The waving, the shouting of survivors—Natalie frowned, then began across the bridge. The known surviving Hunter was male, she told herself as she stopped just short of Kira, then squinted as she realized...
She could see through the Hunter.
"Two survivors. Where, and survivors of what?"
Natalie didn't step closer, and kept her gun ready and aimed at Kira's legs.
"And how do I know you're not leading me into a trap?"
She had to investigate, or at least report this for someone to investigate. She couldn't leave it at this, but she wasn't about to walk into a trap right away, either. She wasn't an idiot.
She dropped her arms when Natalie looked her way, to show she wasn't a threat. Kira knew the gun held silver bullets, just in case, but she couldn't bring herself to fear it. She'd been dead too long to care about such things. Silver still made a primordial part of her shiver in fear, but she just was out of damns to give. A hand wrapped around the edge of her coat, pulling it away to show she had no knife to even harm the other woman with. "They're by the castle ruins. Please. One of them's got an infection, probably needs the leg removed, and her partner..."
She stopped and shook her head. Ortega had done a number on them both. First the woman, and then the boy. Kira knew what shoved him to do such a thing, but that didn't mean she condoned what was done. She too, had lost everything. She had no idea if Beowulf still lived, as emotions were numbed when one was dead. She dropped her coat's edge. "Please. I can't carry them myself, as you can probably guess."
She held her hands out from her sides, palm up to show she meant no harm. Unifiers or not, they didn't deserve what was done to them. They'd suffered like everyone else.
Natalie watched Kira closely, then nodded and walked closer. "Alright. Walk where I can see you. I'm turning my tracer on. If I don't check in every five minutes from when it activates, my communications officer will order a strike against my location."
A tap and a stroke to her earpiece brought no outward change, but Natalie seemed more at ease as she heard a voice in her ear alerting her to the tracer's activation.
She didn't trust Hunters. Deceptive, murderous, and depraved, they were slaughterers of the innocent and mindless killers. Agreeing to follow even a ghostly Hunter was stupid, given the Last Hunter was rumored able to pass through walls, 'like a ghost'.
Natalie stopped suddenly. "What do you know about Project Aqueous?"
The Last Hunter's last big stunt involved stealing a file labeled Project Aqueous. It was described by her superiors as a study in biomechanical engineering to help non-aquatic lifeforms easily gain or lose the ability to breathe water.
In reality, it was the last files they had on a Hunter who called herself Seela, though nobody at Natalie's rank or lower knew of that.
Kira kept her hands out, palm up, to show she had no weapons. She'd long ago lost her dagger somewhere, probably when she died. A mass grave of Hunters existed on a cold planet that probably didn't even exist anymore. The thought saddened her, and she still nodded though at the announcement of the tracer. Smart move, and might save more folks. Maybe being reunited with his mate would snap Ortega out of his madness. She snorted at the question.
"Sounds like it deals with something relating to water. Otherwise not a damn thing. You gonna help these people or not?" She barked out the last bit. She was fucking dead and couldn't carry these fools to safety, and here this woman was stalling while an infection stole away vitality from one of the pair. Still, she kept her hands out, though they twitched some into balled fists for a moment in her agitation.
"I'd carry them myself, but I can't. If you teals hadn't broken everything, I'd still be alive and they wouldn't be in pain. There wouldn't be a sweet man gone mad roaming around because he lost almost everything to this... apocalypse. Hell, I'd have gotten them the help they needed quicker then us standing here wasting time!" She was so tired of this. Of everything. But she couldn't leave Ortega.
"You'll just have to deal with me not trusting you," Natalie snapped, "Last time I met an incorporeal Hunter, he called me cute and then ripped off my leg before he went back to butchering my friends."
Done speaking to Kira for the moment, the woman tapped her earpiece and spoke into it. "Sergeant Natalie Collins reporting. I have an incorporeal Hunter informing me of injured soldiers nearby. I activated my tracer and am going to follow her. Please monitor and send aid if there are injured."
She shot a brief glare at Kira, then approached as her hand dropped. "Lead on."
As they made their way, Natalie kept alert, unwilling to fully trust the ghostly Hunter before her, but unwilling to walk away when she heard of someone in need.
Kira held her hands up to show Natalie she was keeping them clear of any weaponry she might have - even if she wanted to use magic, there would be too much involved. Honestly, though? She just wanted those two poor saps away from Ortega, before he dove back into the darkness that called to him. That was his curse of undeath, though, unfortunately. Without those he cared about around him, he fell, especially when someone lost so many close to him at the same time. Jade had been the worst. Losing her family, who he'd helped raise and protect for so long, just lost to the void like that...
She shuddered at the memory. The blood and gore was something she'd long gotten used to, but watching so many children be executed like that was worse then anything else she'd ever seen. "I don't blame you for not trusting me with that kind of reception."
"Thanks," Natalie murmured, more to acknowledge the other's statement than in true gratefulness, though her tone did markedly lack sarcasm.
By the time she came in sight of Ortega's victims, she swore and tapped her earpiece. "Code zero-two-four-delta-delta. Two in uniform. Incoherent and in need of emergency medical assistance. Suggested course: two fireteams with medical. Full-restraint stretchers required."
"Incorporeal female Hunter appears friendly, but remain wary. This fragment remains unusual. Quick in-and-out suggested."
From the earpiece, a voice answered back, "Suggestions approved. Please scout the perimeter and report while teams assemble."
"On it."
Natalie removed her fingers from the earpiece and looked at Kira. "No funny business." It went unsaid that Natalie was putting her own ass on the line to hurry the process of getting help for the two.
Quickly, she began to check the perimeter, gun ready as she checked every nook she could find. Who or whatever did this to the Unifiers... her gut said it wasn't the ghost. It was someone else. Something else. Perhaps still present.
She trusted her gut even more than she trusted the Unifiers, who she'd sworn her life to.
"Still haven't learned, have you? Unifiers." He spat at the ground at the word. It was a foul taste on his tongue, that word. Them. They... they destroyed everything. It left everything broken. Him. Broken.
"How many lives have you taken, maggot? How many lives... must... cease... before you idiots will learn?"
The dagger blade's tip sliced across the man's cheek, leaving a thin slice, no thicker then a paper cut, across his captive's face. The movement was quick, retaliatory.
"Ortega, how many times do I have to tell you? This won't bring anyone back!" He ignored the words in his ears, though he knew she knew he could see and hear her. The side effect of his heritage, of his coming to power. He snarled, flashing teeth in frustration, letting the Unifiers in front of him see for a moment, through the veneer of normalcy, the skull underneath.
They would pay for all they'd taken. So much life. So much death...
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The man remained silent. His eyes twitched slightly at the slice, and he gave no response to the sight of Ortega's skull without flesh. Skin once healthy and pink looked ashen. Still, after a few short moments, he answered the man.
"None," he said through cracked lips as he closed his eyes. This was the private's first time in the field. When he joined, they assured him the job was primarily to offer assistance to locals and to keep an eye open for the one responsible for the Shattering.
They said the rumors of a Last Hunter were false.
"Please stop," he begged as his voice cracked. One tear fell, and then another. His whole body hurt so much he barely felt their salt in the fresh cut. Underground, within these ruins, none would find them. Their earpieces were useless. He hung from the wall, uniform caked in blood, sweat, and wastes. Every breath felt like a labor, easier to stop than keep going, but his body still had the strength, and he couldn't stop.
His voice cracked again as he pleaded, "I wanna go home."
On the floor, his partner slowly edged away from Ortega. A more veteran soldier by five years, she thought that coming from a place with a tyrant in power would give her an edge. Her ego faded with her strength. One of her legs hurt constantly and smelled of rot, and she wasn't sure if she still had toes on the other foot or not. Her uniform, crusted with blood, rubbed her raw and left blisters and sores, and being forced to sit in her own waste didn't improve her condition.
No longer did she even care about the partner she once tried to encourage and talk through the first days. She didn't have the strength for compassion anymore. Half-feral eyes watched Ortega, unfocused but wary.
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The young man's words brought a snarl to the mad man's lips. His eyes flashed with anger and his knuckles turned white around the hilt of his beloved dagger. Home? Home no longer existed! And he dared deny his involvement in what was the end of the world?
Blue eyes turned to the half feral one and he growled, his steps quick and long. The dagger tip under her chin forced her to look up at him, his eyes narrowed at her. "Woman, tell me. What made you so sure that fusing all of the worlds together would work? So many different people, such different magics... What made you think this would work? And when were you planning on telling him that home no longer exists? That those you help die day by day as more and more withers away?"
Kira's fists clenched at her sides. Nothing she did or said caught his attention, not when he was like this. He was too far gone... She turned, heading up the stairs, past little Artemis. She swallowed. There was none of that spark, none of the fire that made the little fire demon left. How was this acceptable? She drifted up the stairs, wishing to feel anything again. The air was clear and fresh compared to that deep in the dungeons. She looked around. This... this wasn't Ortega.
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Fear painted every aspect of the woman's face as he forced her to look at him. She had no answer. She too was too young in her service to know, and too pained and fearful to find the words.
Voices came suddenly from somewhere above—children's voices laughing.
"It isn't safe here! Even the Unifiers abandoned the bridge, and they're idiots! Get back here!"
"No!" crowed a little girl, only to gasp suddenly.
"Actually, our troops went missing. Your friend is right, though. It isn't safe. Come on, I'll escort you to the bridge," a mature-sounding woman interrupted the children's play. Both children shrieked, as did the older scolding person.
Once they stopped, the mature-sounding woman spoke again. "I'm serious. It's not safe. I don't care if you don't like us, but please, let me get you to safety. Which fragment did you come from?"
Silence, and then an uncertain voice answered, almost too quiet to hear from the ruins, "It's the one close, with the lone wolf on the flag." It was the older voice that tried to scold the children earlier who answered.
"That one? It's pretty close. Come on, then. If you don't trust me, I can walk in front."
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Kira looked out over the land, the bridge, a snarl crossing her features at the teal lover that escorted the children. She wished she could do something, anything to make her pay... but then, her thoughts went to Ortega down in dungeon far below. If she started following that path, then she'd be no better then him, would she?
The old Huntress drifted back down the parapets and crumbled, ruined stairs. She had to get through to the lich she had once called a friend. Losing so many though had caused his mind to all but snap, though. That's what it felt like. She had lost her long time friend and she needed... she needed to fix him.
Children. The laughter and screams of children made the old man pause, his head tilting slightly to the side as he listened. It was something he hadn't heard in a long time, and he closed his eyes, relishing it. His eyes opened again, glaring at the two Unifiers he held captive. "... I have no home. Not anymore. I had people I loved, a kingdom with subjects that loved me and my Queen... Children who adored me."
He slowly moved, as if suddenly weary and exhausted. How long had it been since the man had last slept? He didn't know. But he couldn't kill them, either. No. He couldn't. They were innocents in a way, and he snarled.
"And then you... Unifiers... threw everything together, melded worlds and broke apart things... To make a single world... and you ruined it. You could not hear the screams of the world spirits as they were forced into the same space... No... could not hear the calamities as weather systems clashed... as people died under your care... And you... you called us the villains."
He tucked his weapon away and slowly, bit by bit as he spoke, he undid their bindings. First, the man's. He let the man slump against him. He had time. While the woman, a teal lover, took the others back to their homes, he had time to hide himself again. He seemed to have regained some sanity, if only for the moment. Slowly, he set the man in the arms of the risen dead that stood at the door. "Take him outside. Do not be seen."
The dark haired man nodded, bowed ever so slightly, before he turned and left, taking the man to the outside, where skeletal trees desperately clawed at the air, desperate for anything the soil and sky could give. He then turned to the woman. "He was a friend once... but you executed him. Murdered."
It was her turn, and he cradled her in his arms like he would a princess. His princess. She had been his world... and he had fled from her, to keep her safe. And she still had his means of existing. He couldn't help but give a small laugh, coarse and at one point deep. But that was a long time ago. "I suppose now I am what I hunted. Now I am the villain... But you made me this way."
He took her up stairs, around spiraling towers and to the main ruins, where he set her next to her male cohort. He looked to the male zombie who had helped and nodded to him. Phil. Always obedient. Not that he had a choice anymore. "Go back inside."
He looked out over the land, before he followed his 'assistant' back inside the ruins, careful to mask their prints as he went back inside.
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Both of the Unifiers, too terrified and in pain to do much beyond try to gain distance, couldn't even do that much. The boy cried and babbled quietly to himself, and the woman cringed and tried to squirm from Ortega's grip.
Her body felt almost painfully hot in Ortega's arms as fever from an infection burned at her. She'd lost weight since he brought her to this place—a lot of it. She couldn't move on her own when he placed her beside her partner, though she tried to get herself away from Ortega the moment he released her. All she managed was to fall onto her side and black out as a fresh jolt of pain traveled through her leg.
The boy babbled uselessly. He tried to call for his mother and father, but neither was there. He knew only fear now, and madness too.
Natalie finished escorting the children back to their homes, where parents glared at her until she put her hands up.
"Not here to do anything but deliver these kids back to their families," she assured. "They were on the next fragment, which is too dangerous. People have been going missing."
"Missing?" One of the parents prompted after a few moments.
"Yes, sir. Our soldiers from the outposts started to go missing, and it grew into a pattern. We were forced to withdraw them. A team was sent to investigate, but they went missing. I was only on there because a scan said it was safe, but those scans aren't very reliable."
The man frowned and looked toward the two children, then pointed to a house. "Rooms. Now."
The two children fled, and he looked toward the third from the group Natalie brought back.
"You, go back to your room at the hotel. I'm done with you influencing my children." A glare brought tears to the young woman's eyes.
"S... s-sorry... I didn..."
"Didn't think? No, I know. Go."
She nodded, then fled.
He watched her go, then looked back to Natalie, arms crossed. "When are your people going to put people back on the bridge?"
Natalie blinked at the sudden question, but continued to stand straight. "We plan to send scouts through to comb the fragment. Once we establish it safe enough to hold troops regularly, we'll start assigning regular troops to each outpost."
"How long?"
She blinked at him again. Did he have any idea what he was asking her to guess? After a moment, she sighed. "I don't know, sir. I'm not privy to such information."
The man grunted, then waved with one hand without uncrossing his arms.
God, Natalie hated his type. Eager to hate Unifiers, but they sure liked the safety of outposts nearby. She forced herself to smile and nod before she walked away from him. At the edge of the bridge, she stopped and pulled out her phone to send an update on her status that didn't involve being overheard by wary locals.
Reporting. No signs of danger. Currently off-fragment after escorting 2 children + 1 adult to safety. Locals did not know of missing soldiers. Impatient for restablishment of stationed troops.
Her earpiece blipped, and a voice spoke from it, "Thank you for your report. Please proceed with the search as you see fit. As a reminder, you are currently a Lone Wolf unit. It is suggested you find assistance."
Natalie texted back an acknowledgement, then took a moment looking to the fragment she'd left, and then around the current.
Where did she want to start? Lone Wolves didn't live long, usually dying in their first solo mission, and those were just corporals. As a sergeant Lone Wolf, she was expected to pull the weight of at least six people that didn't exist, plus her own.
She removed her hat, ran her hand through her hair, then replaced her hat. Frankly, she wasn't thrilled by the idea of returning to that ghost fragment, but something nagged at her about it, like she should at least look around. From here, she could see some ruins, like an ancient castle.
She'd always wanted to explore one, but her legs wouldn't take the first step toward it. Her gut told her it was dangerous.
⋯﴾⛧﴿⋯
The Huntress leaned against the crumbling wall of the ruins, feeling her essence wane slightly. She was strongest, most firm to the touch and to sight, the more insane the man was. But that was to make herself more known. When he retreated like this, came back to his senses for the most part, she lost some of that physicality. She didn't mind; it made it easier to keep an eye on what was left of the victims. Kira eyed them, her heart breaking at what the man had accomplished to these... She didn't know what to call them right now. She had always hated the Unifiers. They had taken so much from her and everyone and they continued to try and help. They had done this to the worlds...
She shook her head, looking towards where the civilization barely clung on. She needed to make sure these two were found. Maybe there was still hope yet for them. She pushed her foot off of the wall, using that to sprint ahead towards the village. She stopped at the bridge, as if running into yet another wall there. Sharp eyes looked out across the simple bridge, gaze landing on Natalie. An Unifier. Help.
"I've found some survivors! Help!" She couldn't carry them both. Couldn't even carry one. She hoped her form of a torn and battered Hunter's jacket, slim frame under jeans, shirt and ballistic vest, was obvious and clear to any who viewed her. She put so much into it to try and get those two help. "I can't carry them both! Please!"
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Natalie's gaze jerked toward the sudden movement, and then the movement solidified into a woman—a woman in a very recognizable coat. The waving, the shouting of survivors—Natalie frowned, then began across the bridge. The known surviving Hunter was male, she told herself as she stopped just short of Kira, then squinted as she realized...
She could see through the Hunter.
"Two survivors. Where, and survivors of what?"
Natalie didn't step closer, and kept her gun ready and aimed at Kira's legs.
"And how do I know you're not leading me into a trap?"
She had to investigate, or at least report this for someone to investigate. She couldn't leave it at this, but she wasn't about to walk into a trap right away, either. She wasn't an idiot.
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She dropped her arms when Natalie looked her way, to show she wasn't a threat. Kira knew the gun held silver bullets, just in case, but she couldn't bring herself to fear it. She'd been dead too long to care about such things. Silver still made a primordial part of her shiver in fear, but she just was out of damns to give. A hand wrapped around the edge of her coat, pulling it away to show she had no knife to even harm the other woman with. "They're by the castle ruins. Please. One of them's got an infection, probably needs the leg removed, and her partner..."
She stopped and shook her head. Ortega had done a number on them both. First the woman, and then the boy. Kira knew what shoved him to do such a thing, but that didn't mean she condoned what was done. She too, had lost everything. She had no idea if Beowulf still lived, as emotions were numbed when one was dead. She dropped her coat's edge. "Please. I can't carry them myself, as you can probably guess."
She held her hands out from her sides, palm up to show she meant no harm. Unifiers or not, they didn't deserve what was done to them. They'd suffered like everyone else.
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Natalie watched Kira closely, then nodded and walked closer. "Alright. Walk where I can see you. I'm turning my tracer on. If I don't check in every five minutes from when it activates, my communications officer will order a strike against my location."
A tap and a stroke to her earpiece brought no outward change, but Natalie seemed more at ease as she heard a voice in her ear alerting her to the tracer's activation.
She didn't trust Hunters. Deceptive, murderous, and depraved, they were slaughterers of the innocent and mindless killers. Agreeing to follow even a ghostly Hunter was stupid, given the Last Hunter was rumored able to pass through walls, 'like a ghost'.
Natalie stopped suddenly. "What do you know about Project Aqueous?"
The Last Hunter's last big stunt involved stealing a file labeled Project Aqueous. It was described by her superiors as a study in biomechanical engineering to help non-aquatic lifeforms easily gain or lose the ability to breathe water.
In reality, it was the last files they had on a Hunter who called herself Seela, though nobody at Natalie's rank or lower knew of that.
⋯﴾⛧﴿⋯
Kira kept her hands out, palm up, to show she had no weapons. She'd long ago lost her dagger somewhere, probably when she died. A mass grave of Hunters existed on a cold planet that probably didn't even exist anymore. The thought saddened her, and she still nodded though at the announcement of the tracer. Smart move, and might save more folks. Maybe being reunited with his mate would snap Ortega out of his madness. She snorted at the question.
"Sounds like it deals with something relating to water. Otherwise not a damn thing. You gonna help these people or not?" She barked out the last bit. She was fucking dead and couldn't carry these fools to safety, and here this woman was stalling while an infection stole away vitality from one of the pair. Still, she kept her hands out, though they twitched some into balled fists for a moment in her agitation.
"I'd carry them myself, but I can't. If you teals hadn't broken everything, I'd still be alive and they wouldn't be in pain. There wouldn't be a sweet man gone mad roaming around because he lost almost everything to this... apocalypse. Hell, I'd have gotten them the help they needed quicker then us standing here wasting time!" She was so tired of this. Of everything. But she couldn't leave Ortega.
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"You'll just have to deal with me not trusting you," Natalie snapped, "Last time I met an incorporeal Hunter, he called me cute and then ripped off my leg before he went back to butchering my friends."
Done speaking to Kira for the moment, the woman tapped her earpiece and spoke into it. "Sergeant Natalie Collins reporting. I have an incorporeal Hunter informing me of injured soldiers nearby. I activated my tracer and am going to follow her. Please monitor and send aid if there are injured."
She shot a brief glare at Kira, then approached as her hand dropped. "Lead on."
As they made their way, Natalie kept alert, unwilling to fully trust the ghostly Hunter before her, but unwilling to walk away when she heard of someone in need.
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Kira held her hands up to show Natalie she was keeping them clear of any weaponry she might have - even if she wanted to use magic, there would be too much involved. Honestly, though? She just wanted those two poor saps away from Ortega, before he dove back into the darkness that called to him. That was his curse of undeath, though, unfortunately. Without those he cared about around him, he fell, especially when someone lost so many close to him at the same time. Jade had been the worst. Losing her family, who he'd helped raise and protect for so long, just lost to the void like that...
She shuddered at the memory. The blood and gore was something she'd long gotten used to, but watching so many children be executed like that was worse then anything else she'd ever seen. "I don't blame you for not trusting me with that kind of reception."
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"Thanks," Natalie murmured, more to acknowledge the other's statement than in true gratefulness, though her tone did markedly lack sarcasm.
By the time she came in sight of Ortega's victims, she swore and tapped her earpiece. "Code zero-two-four-delta-delta. Two in uniform. Incoherent and in need of emergency medical assistance. Suggested course: two fireteams with medical. Full-restraint stretchers required."
"Incorporeal female Hunter appears friendly, but remain wary. This fragment remains unusual. Quick in-and-out suggested."
From the earpiece, a voice answered back, "Suggestions approved. Please scout the perimeter and report while teams assemble."
"On it."
Natalie removed her fingers from the earpiece and looked at Kira. "No funny business." It went unsaid that Natalie was putting her own ass on the line to hurry the process of getting help for the two.
Quickly, she began to check the perimeter, gun ready as she checked every nook she could find. Who or whatever did this to the Unifiers... her gut said it wasn't the ghost. It was someone else. Something else. Perhaps still present.
She trusted her gut even more than she trusted the Unifiers, who she'd sworn her life to.
Michael's Side
The middle aged man ran his hands through his short, messy hair with a tired grin as he finished his story to the others at the campfire. The bleached portions had long since been grown out and cut, leaving him his natural black. His old jacket clung to his fit form, his green shirt hiding a dragon emblem under the leather. Time had not been kind. Stress had accelerated his aging, but many women still seemed to find him attractive for some strange reason. That was something that he never understood, honestly, but company was still nice, regardless. His calloused fingers went to the pieces that hung from a chain around his neck: a piece of rough jade, alongside a worn silver sword with a wing. For him, both were long time good luck charms that had helped him through many a bad time, and it took all he had to keep pressing forward sometimes, just remembering that if Jade was still around, he could be too.
"But yeah, Talen wasn't too happy with me after that." His lopsided grin spread over his lips as he leaned forward, toward the warmth of the fire they'd managed, his forearms draped over his thighs. So tired, but he wanted their company for a little while longer.
"I don't blame him!" The woman laughed, her hand gently rubbing over a slightly rounded belly. Doucha eyed her, noting the worry on her face as she looked down at her would be little one. Not many were born as of late, not since the shattering, and so this woman was precious, as was the child she had growing inside her... if the child made it to term, of course. That was the tricky part. She grinned at her partner nonetheless and his smile softened into a bit of contentment that he took where he could get it.
Heavy boots approached, and a stranger in a Hunter's jacket sat suddenly by the fire. Gleaming silver adorned his face in many places. He spoke suddenly, but his voice was quiet, "Name's Michael. Sorry to interrupt. I overheard you and suddenly wanted to be... around people."
It wasn't an uncommon thing, for a stranger to approach a group from loneliness.
What was unusual was a Hunter to do it. There were rumors that only one was left. More unusual—silver piercings on a Hunter. Burn scars surrounded each piercing.
A sudden sniffle betrayed his lack of a fit over the baby—his nose was occupied.
Though, as he tore his eyes from the fire to look around, he caught sight of the woman, and he stared with wide eyes and an open mouth.
"M-ma'am!" he started, "Are you and your mate warm enough?"
A tiny, excited exclamation of 'baby!' escaped as, unaware of Doucha, he stared at the woman, her husband, and her belly. "Baby!"
Doucha couldn't help but let a rich laugh escape him at the baby fit the Hunter began to have. It had been a long time since he'd seen a Hunter, and he had almost forgotten about that quirk of their's. Every life was worth celebrating, it boiled down to, right?
The woman looked a little startled, though, though smiled sweetly as she leaned against her husband, fingers entwined with his. Doucha knew those signs. They were still in love, and deeply. Those in love couldn't help but want to touch and be close to their partner. Endorphins and what not. "U-um, yes. Thank you. Have you eaten? We have some left over jerky if you need it."
The wonders of human beings. Though resources were scarce, some couldn't help but extend an olive branch. These people wouldn't understand the significance of that duster jacket, though. Or the baby fit.
"The baby's still doing fine as far as I can tell." Doucha commented as he leaned back against his hands. Still, the old man scanned the youth, looking for any sign of his mental state beside the baby fit. Had he been crying?
Michael blinked at the laugh and looked at Doucha. Dark blue eyes and blond hair. A big nose that looked vaguely like it belonged on someone from the middle east. Pale skin told of a life of avoiding the sun or simply not being in it. Still, he didn't show any signs of recognition at seeing Douche, but he smiled regardless.
Laughter.
He loved the sound. He rubbed at his running nose, then winced at the silver, only to pause and look towards the woman as she offered food, and then the laughing man mentioned the baby seemed fine.
His smile at her was all warmth. "Thank you, ma'am. I had a big meal earlier today. There's a settlement just... ah..." He looked around, trying to get his bearings. "East? East of here. It's run by a guy called Jebediah. Seems real nice, too, if a bit flashy."
He paused as he realized he was babbling. "Sorry. I get really chatty when I'm with people." Despite his apology, his smile refused to fade. Being around people... He missed it. During childhood, he'd never been alone at all, even when he wanted to be. This... this was lonely. Being by people, smelling and seeing and hearing them—it brought comfort.
Michael turned his head to look at Doucha, and his smile faltered at the man's gaze. His runny nose meant he couldn't tell why he was being appraised.
Red-rimmed eyes darted across Doucha's face, trying to read it. The piercing in his nose looked fresh, by the redness around it. His distance from the couple meant they'd not see these signs, but Doucha, nearer to him, could see the signs as he sought them, including the deep hollows to the young Hunter's cheeks.
Doucha's stern look and scrutiny gave way to warmth and compassion, almost apologetic for the losses the boy had no doubt endured. If only the old man could place the boys' parents, then he'd be more at ease. He'd heard far too many conflicting stories, and he merely wanted to keep the others safe. He smiled charmingly at Michael though. "Yeah, he's always been like that as long as I've known him. I've got a place there, as well as back home."
He jerked his head towards the north, where his own little village thrived under such difficult circumstances. It wasn't much, and it hadn't started out as more then him and his family and a few others banding together. People had slowly joined over time. "Name's Doucha. These are Lily and Everit. You?"
May as well ask straight out who he was, if nothing else. Manners and all that. The boy had been crying, and the silver in his nose, though odd, looked recent, so it was possible the tears had been from him practically frying his nostril to put in the piercing. "Go ahead and eat, young man. We were just resting a bit, since Lily was feeling... not the best."
"Just tired from all the walking. That's all." The woman assured, waving off the concern with a weary smile. "Though are you sure about escorting us all the way back to Jebediah's village? It's a long way from your own village, isn't it?"
Doucha shrugged. It didn't concern him that it took him so far away. There weren't any real threats to his village that he was aware of, so he sometimes was able to take off to look for other survivors. Besides, Sheryl was more of a leader then he ever saw himself to be.
Michael's jaw fell open at the introduction, and he remained silent through the rest until finally, he shoved his chin up with the back of his hand.
"D... Doucha... Miez? The Hopper?"
He stumbled over even those four words, and his eyes dropped and traveled, taking in the older man's appearance quickly. His gaze stopped on the amulets, then jerked up to Doucha's face. "I... I heard stories about you. When I was growing up, I mean."
His voice cracked, despite his apparent maturity.
The stunned Hunter looked toward Lily and Everit as he forced himself to remember his manners. "It's... it's nice meeting all of you. Miss Lily. Mister Everett," he turned toward Doucha, blue eyes still wide, "Mister Miez."
He was forgetting something. Moments passed before it finally dawned on him. His mouth opened, then closed, and he quickly adjusted his jacket collar to try to hide in it. "I'm... Michael Shears. Kindall's son."
"One and the same." Kindall. The blonde hair. They blue eyes. It all made sense now that he had a lineage. "You're that Last Hunter I keep hearing about, huh?"
He grinned good naturedly at the kid, even as he pulled a stunt he knew Phil to do before he had gotten hitched. "You sure you're not hungry? I know Hunters eat a fair amount to keep up their strength."
"Yeah, Mr. Miez is quite an accomplished man." Lily grinned happily. "He saved me from a bad situation when I was a kid."
Doucha looked away, a tint of pink to his cheeks. "Heh. Was just trying to keep kids from dealing with what I had to."
They'd already had this talk when she'd recognized him originally. One of the kids he'd found a new home for as a social Worker. It was good at least someone had made it.
Michael nodded dumbly, then listened as Doucha asked if he wasn't hungry, and it came to light that Doucha helped Lily when she was young.
He felt like he couldn't keep up, but he loved how they spoke to and of each other. He closed his eyes and just took it in, drinking in the love between those present like water in the desert.
"I'm content," Michael assured finally. "I really did eat recently."
He looked toward Lily, then grinned. "Doucha was a big hero. Helped kids find happiness and stopped wars and... and then he made people laugh and smile." His tone of awe gave the impression he thought stopping wars and helping kids were of equal heroism and importance, and his stories were icing on the cake.
He was a Hunter. He had the love of children they all did.
Like a Shears, he knew when to stop, despite his excitement.
"And I heard he tells the best stories."
Doucha tossed his head back and laughed. "Oh the stories I could tell. Some have started calling me a bard for whatever reason because of it."
The youthful grin cut across his face, making him seem so much younger then a minute ago. His fingers went around the pendants he kept close for a moment, thumbing the sword and wing for a moment. A brief second of silence, his expression faltering. "I'm not that big of a hero; not really. I just helped people, which is what anyone should do."
With that, he launched into a story of a young prince who had run from home or else risked death, and how said prince met him and a Priestess and her guard. Of the rallied cities, and the shadows that always lurked when he had to go home again. It was his main story - his main claim to fame. Helping a prince regain his place on the line of heirs and bringing peace to a people. Without the help of a Hunter to boot.
Throughout the story, Micheal gradually leaned closer, eyes wide. Doucha had his full attention, and for a moment, Michael truly looked young.
Before the Shattering, he might have been attending college or fleeing from a trainer, or maybe coming home from an easy first mission to boast to his loved ones. He might have gone on trips to the mall or chased girls.
Here, after the end of everything, he wore silver in his flesh and kept a determined expression that gave him the eyes of an ancient.
With that expression fallen, Michael would have had his father's baby face, if he'd had more than minimal fat to pad his skin.
At the end of it, that boyish expression of wonder remained. "You're a better storyteller than Aunt Vicky," he asserted, as though he'd been convinced even before meeting the man.
The old man laughed some, reaching over and ruffling Michael's hair playfully. "Nah. I've just told that story a lot over the past few years. Makes kids' imaginations run wild."
His eyes dimmed some and he looked away, pulling a leg up to rest his arm on it. He told the story a lot, but... it still reminded him how much he'd lost in all of this chaos. Lily quietly poked at the fire with her fire stick as she listened, smiling at Michael's enthusiasm. She paused as she noticed Doucha shift, worry crossing her features for a moment.
Doucha spoke up after a moment's silence, looking over to the Hunter again, though his expression was somewhat fallen. "Thanks though. Glad you liked it!"
"I loved it," Michael asserted as he absently rubbed his nose, only to hiss quietly as he disturbed his new piercing.
He couldn't smell Doucha's sadness through his own snot from the pain in his nose, or he might have asked about it. As it was though, he did see the shift in Doucha's face as he looked at it, and a small frown of worry creased his features.
Aware that people often felt self-conscious of their feelings around those they met for the first time, he didn't question it. He probably knew already. Most likely, it was a reminder of times past, which meant the remembering the 'Never Again'.
Even he, who couldn't remember life before Unifiers defeated the Hunters, felt those 'Never Again' feelings. Vicky was one. His mother was another. So many were just... gone. With them, his childhood. Almost half his life, he'd been looking for Lady Jade, to try to return things to a time before he remembered.
So that maybe, on the next time around, Hunters would win.
So that maybe, everyone would be happy.
He felt his resolve harden.
"I... think I know how to fix things," he said, the words slipping from his lips suddenly.
"But yeah, Talen wasn't too happy with me after that." His lopsided grin spread over his lips as he leaned forward, toward the warmth of the fire they'd managed, his forearms draped over his thighs. So tired, but he wanted their company for a little while longer.
"I don't blame him!" The woman laughed, her hand gently rubbing over a slightly rounded belly. Doucha eyed her, noting the worry on her face as she looked down at her would be little one. Not many were born as of late, not since the shattering, and so this woman was precious, as was the child she had growing inside her... if the child made it to term, of course. That was the tricky part. She grinned at her partner nonetheless and his smile softened into a bit of contentment that he took where he could get it.
⋯﴾⛧﴿⋯
Heavy boots approached, and a stranger in a Hunter's jacket sat suddenly by the fire. Gleaming silver adorned his face in many places. He spoke suddenly, but his voice was quiet, "Name's Michael. Sorry to interrupt. I overheard you and suddenly wanted to be... around people."
It wasn't an uncommon thing, for a stranger to approach a group from loneliness.
What was unusual was a Hunter to do it. There were rumors that only one was left. More unusual—silver piercings on a Hunter. Burn scars surrounded each piercing.
A sudden sniffle betrayed his lack of a fit over the baby—his nose was occupied.
Though, as he tore his eyes from the fire to look around, he caught sight of the woman, and he stared with wide eyes and an open mouth.
"M-ma'am!" he started, "Are you and your mate warm enough?"
A tiny, excited exclamation of 'baby!' escaped as, unaware of Doucha, he stared at the woman, her husband, and her belly. "Baby!"
⋯﴾⛧﴿⋯
Doucha couldn't help but let a rich laugh escape him at the baby fit the Hunter began to have. It had been a long time since he'd seen a Hunter, and he had almost forgotten about that quirk of their's. Every life was worth celebrating, it boiled down to, right?
The woman looked a little startled, though, though smiled sweetly as she leaned against her husband, fingers entwined with his. Doucha knew those signs. They were still in love, and deeply. Those in love couldn't help but want to touch and be close to their partner. Endorphins and what not. "U-um, yes. Thank you. Have you eaten? We have some left over jerky if you need it."
The wonders of human beings. Though resources were scarce, some couldn't help but extend an olive branch. These people wouldn't understand the significance of that duster jacket, though. Or the baby fit.
"The baby's still doing fine as far as I can tell." Doucha commented as he leaned back against his hands. Still, the old man scanned the youth, looking for any sign of his mental state beside the baby fit. Had he been crying?
⋯﴾⛧﴿⋯
Michael blinked at the laugh and looked at Doucha. Dark blue eyes and blond hair. A big nose that looked vaguely like it belonged on someone from the middle east. Pale skin told of a life of avoiding the sun or simply not being in it. Still, he didn't show any signs of recognition at seeing Douche, but he smiled regardless.
Laughter.
He loved the sound. He rubbed at his running nose, then winced at the silver, only to pause and look towards the woman as she offered food, and then the laughing man mentioned the baby seemed fine.
His smile at her was all warmth. "Thank you, ma'am. I had a big meal earlier today. There's a settlement just... ah..." He looked around, trying to get his bearings. "East? East of here. It's run by a guy called Jebediah. Seems real nice, too, if a bit flashy."
He paused as he realized he was babbling. "Sorry. I get really chatty when I'm with people." Despite his apology, his smile refused to fade. Being around people... He missed it. During childhood, he'd never been alone at all, even when he wanted to be. This... this was lonely. Being by people, smelling and seeing and hearing them—it brought comfort.
Michael turned his head to look at Doucha, and his smile faltered at the man's gaze. His runny nose meant he couldn't tell why he was being appraised.
Red-rimmed eyes darted across Doucha's face, trying to read it. The piercing in his nose looked fresh, by the redness around it. His distance from the couple meant they'd not see these signs, but Doucha, nearer to him, could see the signs as he sought them, including the deep hollows to the young Hunter's cheeks.
⋯﴾⛧﴿⋯
Doucha's stern look and scrutiny gave way to warmth and compassion, almost apologetic for the losses the boy had no doubt endured. If only the old man could place the boys' parents, then he'd be more at ease. He'd heard far too many conflicting stories, and he merely wanted to keep the others safe. He smiled charmingly at Michael though. "Yeah, he's always been like that as long as I've known him. I've got a place there, as well as back home."
He jerked his head towards the north, where his own little village thrived under such difficult circumstances. It wasn't much, and it hadn't started out as more then him and his family and a few others banding together. People had slowly joined over time. "Name's Doucha. These are Lily and Everit. You?"
May as well ask straight out who he was, if nothing else. Manners and all that. The boy had been crying, and the silver in his nose, though odd, looked recent, so it was possible the tears had been from him practically frying his nostril to put in the piercing. "Go ahead and eat, young man. We were just resting a bit, since Lily was feeling... not the best."
"Just tired from all the walking. That's all." The woman assured, waving off the concern with a weary smile. "Though are you sure about escorting us all the way back to Jebediah's village? It's a long way from your own village, isn't it?"
Doucha shrugged. It didn't concern him that it took him so far away. There weren't any real threats to his village that he was aware of, so he sometimes was able to take off to look for other survivors. Besides, Sheryl was more of a leader then he ever saw himself to be.
⋯﴾⛧﴿⋯
Michael's jaw fell open at the introduction, and he remained silent through the rest until finally, he shoved his chin up with the back of his hand.
"D... Doucha... Miez? The Hopper?"
He stumbled over even those four words, and his eyes dropped and traveled, taking in the older man's appearance quickly. His gaze stopped on the amulets, then jerked up to Doucha's face. "I... I heard stories about you. When I was growing up, I mean."
His voice cracked, despite his apparent maturity.
The stunned Hunter looked toward Lily and Everit as he forced himself to remember his manners. "It's... it's nice meeting all of you. Miss Lily. Mister Everett," he turned toward Doucha, blue eyes still wide, "Mister Miez."
He was forgetting something. Moments passed before it finally dawned on him. His mouth opened, then closed, and he quickly adjusted his jacket collar to try to hide in it. "I'm... Michael Shears. Kindall's son."
⋯﴾⛧﴿⋯
"One and the same." Kindall. The blonde hair. They blue eyes. It all made sense now that he had a lineage. "You're that Last Hunter I keep hearing about, huh?"
He grinned good naturedly at the kid, even as he pulled a stunt he knew Phil to do before he had gotten hitched. "You sure you're not hungry? I know Hunters eat a fair amount to keep up their strength."
"Yeah, Mr. Miez is quite an accomplished man." Lily grinned happily. "He saved me from a bad situation when I was a kid."
Doucha looked away, a tint of pink to his cheeks. "Heh. Was just trying to keep kids from dealing with what I had to."
They'd already had this talk when she'd recognized him originally. One of the kids he'd found a new home for as a social Worker. It was good at least someone had made it.
⋯﴾⛧﴿⋯
Michael nodded dumbly, then listened as Doucha asked if he wasn't hungry, and it came to light that Doucha helped Lily when she was young.
He felt like he couldn't keep up, but he loved how they spoke to and of each other. He closed his eyes and just took it in, drinking in the love between those present like water in the desert.
"I'm content," Michael assured finally. "I really did eat recently."
He looked toward Lily, then grinned. "Doucha was a big hero. Helped kids find happiness and stopped wars and... and then he made people laugh and smile." His tone of awe gave the impression he thought stopping wars and helping kids were of equal heroism and importance, and his stories were icing on the cake.
He was a Hunter. He had the love of children they all did.
Like a Shears, he knew when to stop, despite his excitement.
"And I heard he tells the best stories."
⋯﴾⛧﴿⋯
Doucha tossed his head back and laughed. "Oh the stories I could tell. Some have started calling me a bard for whatever reason because of it."
The youthful grin cut across his face, making him seem so much younger then a minute ago. His fingers went around the pendants he kept close for a moment, thumbing the sword and wing for a moment. A brief second of silence, his expression faltering. "I'm not that big of a hero; not really. I just helped people, which is what anyone should do."
With that, he launched into a story of a young prince who had run from home or else risked death, and how said prince met him and a Priestess and her guard. Of the rallied cities, and the shadows that always lurked when he had to go home again. It was his main story - his main claim to fame. Helping a prince regain his place on the line of heirs and bringing peace to a people. Without the help of a Hunter to boot.
⋯﴾⛧﴿⋯
Throughout the story, Micheal gradually leaned closer, eyes wide. Doucha had his full attention, and for a moment, Michael truly looked young.
Before the Shattering, he might have been attending college or fleeing from a trainer, or maybe coming home from an easy first mission to boast to his loved ones. He might have gone on trips to the mall or chased girls.
Here, after the end of everything, he wore silver in his flesh and kept a determined expression that gave him the eyes of an ancient.
With that expression fallen, Michael would have had his father's baby face, if he'd had more than minimal fat to pad his skin.
At the end of it, that boyish expression of wonder remained. "You're a better storyteller than Aunt Vicky," he asserted, as though he'd been convinced even before meeting the man.
⋯﴾⛧﴿⋯
The old man laughed some, reaching over and ruffling Michael's hair playfully. "Nah. I've just told that story a lot over the past few years. Makes kids' imaginations run wild."
His eyes dimmed some and he looked away, pulling a leg up to rest his arm on it. He told the story a lot, but... it still reminded him how much he'd lost in all of this chaos. Lily quietly poked at the fire with her fire stick as she listened, smiling at Michael's enthusiasm. She paused as she noticed Doucha shift, worry crossing her features for a moment.
Doucha spoke up after a moment's silence, looking over to the Hunter again, though his expression was somewhat fallen. "Thanks though. Glad you liked it!"
⋯﴾⛧﴿⋯
"I loved it," Michael asserted as he absently rubbed his nose, only to hiss quietly as he disturbed his new piercing.
He couldn't smell Doucha's sadness through his own snot from the pain in his nose, or he might have asked about it. As it was though, he did see the shift in Doucha's face as he looked at it, and a small frown of worry creased his features.
Aware that people often felt self-conscious of their feelings around those they met for the first time, he didn't question it. He probably knew already. Most likely, it was a reminder of times past, which meant the remembering the 'Never Again'.
Even he, who couldn't remember life before Unifiers defeated the Hunters, felt those 'Never Again' feelings. Vicky was one. His mother was another. So many were just... gone. With them, his childhood. Almost half his life, he'd been looking for Lady Jade, to try to return things to a time before he remembered.
So that maybe, on the next time around, Hunters would win.
So that maybe, everyone would be happy.
He felt his resolve harden.
"I... think I know how to fix things," he said, the words slipping from his lips suddenly.
Kayla's Side
"No no no no!" The young woman scrambled, diving for the creature that lost its footing as the ground gave out underneath it. Its bleated scream of terror echoed in her ears, and her walking stick pinned between her and the ground. Her eyes watered and everything went blurry. "No..."
No no no! Not fair! Kayla slammed her fist into the earth under her. No... The world spirit let her arm dangle over the edge, a tear trailing down. Left and right, that which she valued dropped into the void, and it was taking all she had to hold what few fragments she could together. It took so much power, so much time and concentration. And it all was crumbling. She swallowed past the lump in her throat, before she looked out at the nearest bridges and at the few remaining trees. There was still so much to explore and investigate, but at the same time, she didn't want to stray too far, lest something terrible happen.
It was lonely, being a demigod and a world spirit. And so many had died when the worlds were merged. How had she survived? Tears streaked down her cheeks at the reminder. William and his Rylep mate... All the Ryleps she watched grow and becoming their own person over the thousands of years that her world had been offset by... So many people and things and creations now just... gone. And she lost more every day... Slowly, she pushed herself back up, cradling the second most important thing to her close to her chest. Her walking stick was her totem, and she needed to keep it safe. But why did everything else she loved have to... just leave?
Trik grabbed Kayla by the back of her shirt and pulled her closer against himself. His mate—he feared how close she strayed to the edges when concentration faltered. She still tried to save everyone Part of why he loved her, and part of why he worried for her.
"Kayla," he murmured. Her name was all he could say in the face of another death. Strong arms held her tight and pulled her further from the edge.
A cough came from nearby—a familiar one. "Found you—" another cough, and the owner of the familiar voice stumbled out. A Rylep that yearned for the sky in his younger years, he'd been forced to the ground most days by a lung infection. He survived the day of the shattering because he'd been airborne, and the sky blew him about, onto the remains of an entirely different world.
Twenty-three years, he sought home and family, and now...
He collapsed against Trik and Kayla. Trik pulled him into his embrace.
The ogre wanted to laugh. It felt like it had to be a joke. Still, as the Rylep's breathing became shallow and even as he slipped into what he assumed was well-needed rest, he felt some of the overbearing sadness ease away.
"Trik..." The woman looked up at the ogre, dwarfed in his arms even know, and the saddness, the bleakness, was all over her dirty face. She didn't try to hide it anymore. What was the point? All she had anymore went into keeping her fragments from simply falling into the abyss that surrounded them on all sides. But then that voice...
Her heart leapt into her throat, strangling her, as she heard the boy's voice after twelve long years. She had watched him grow from a pup, and he was one of the progenitors of her favored race. But that was so long ago on that world... She twisted in Trik's arms, wrapping her own arms around the pair. The tears would not stop, and she dared not stop them.
Her heart could hardly handle any of this loss anymore, but there was still life that held on for all its worth on her fragments and those around her. If they could hold on, those plants and insects and animals that had made it this far, then she would do what she could to preserve them. If only some of them hadn't been so stupid to wander too close to the edges... Still. She had Emrys, and she had Trik. It was enough, for now. Exhaustion egged at her, but she had so much built up that she could still stay awake. She had to. She had to stay awake.
"My dear son... My dear mate..." She nuzzled close to both, just letting the relief flood her and ease her sorrow.
Emrys, asleep against her, didn't move. Finally, he felt safe enough to sleep, and sleep snatched him quickly, before he could even offer a greeting.
Trik lifted both with ease and began to walk further in, away from the edges. "You should rest, Kayla. I'll wake you if anything happens." His lips pressed against her head, blunt tusks brushing her skin with care. "The spirits say sleep will help to prevent more grief. I think heeding their advise would be wise. Especially now that we have Emrys with us."
As ever, his voice was deep and quiet—a rumble that remained ever-gentle. "I'll keep watch, and then Emrys can have a turn."
"But... I need to concentrate..." Her tired comment was weak as she clung to him. Tusks assured her. His kiss calmed her. The comfort and security of his grip almost lulled her to sleep, but she desperately clung to consciousness. She didn't want anything else to fall, anything else to crumble. She swallowed back the tears that bit at her eyes. Kayla closed her eyes. It would only be a moment. Yes... Just... a... moment...
As promised, Trik kept watch. He carried both of his family members to a place at the center of the fragment, then held them tight as he sat against a tree and let his awareness spread around.
With eyes closed, he sensed every movement as he witnessed the spirits themselves.
Their muted colors showed their weakening, but some shone so strong and vibrant they almost blinded. Even after the end, vibrance persisted.
No no no! Not fair! Kayla slammed her fist into the earth under her. No... The world spirit let her arm dangle over the edge, a tear trailing down. Left and right, that which she valued dropped into the void, and it was taking all she had to hold what few fragments she could together. It took so much power, so much time and concentration. And it all was crumbling. She swallowed past the lump in her throat, before she looked out at the nearest bridges and at the few remaining trees. There was still so much to explore and investigate, but at the same time, she didn't want to stray too far, lest something terrible happen.
It was lonely, being a demigod and a world spirit. And so many had died when the worlds were merged. How had she survived? Tears streaked down her cheeks at the reminder. William and his Rylep mate... All the Ryleps she watched grow and becoming their own person over the thousands of years that her world had been offset by... So many people and things and creations now just... gone. And she lost more every day... Slowly, she pushed herself back up, cradling the second most important thing to her close to her chest. Her walking stick was her totem, and she needed to keep it safe. But why did everything else she loved have to... just leave?
⋯﴾⛧﴿⋯
Trik grabbed Kayla by the back of her shirt and pulled her closer against himself. His mate—he feared how close she strayed to the edges when concentration faltered. She still tried to save everyone Part of why he loved her, and part of why he worried for her.
"Kayla," he murmured. Her name was all he could say in the face of another death. Strong arms held her tight and pulled her further from the edge.
A cough came from nearby—a familiar one. "Found you—" another cough, and the owner of the familiar voice stumbled out. A Rylep that yearned for the sky in his younger years, he'd been forced to the ground most days by a lung infection. He survived the day of the shattering because he'd been airborne, and the sky blew him about, onto the remains of an entirely different world.
Twenty-three years, he sought home and family, and now...
He collapsed against Trik and Kayla. Trik pulled him into his embrace.
The ogre wanted to laugh. It felt like it had to be a joke. Still, as the Rylep's breathing became shallow and even as he slipped into what he assumed was well-needed rest, he felt some of the overbearing sadness ease away.
⋯﴾⛧﴿⋯
"Trik..." The woman looked up at the ogre, dwarfed in his arms even know, and the saddness, the bleakness, was all over her dirty face. She didn't try to hide it anymore. What was the point? All she had anymore went into keeping her fragments from simply falling into the abyss that surrounded them on all sides. But then that voice...
Her heart leapt into her throat, strangling her, as she heard the boy's voice after twelve long years. She had watched him grow from a pup, and he was one of the progenitors of her favored race. But that was so long ago on that world... She twisted in Trik's arms, wrapping her own arms around the pair. The tears would not stop, and she dared not stop them.
Her heart could hardly handle any of this loss anymore, but there was still life that held on for all its worth on her fragments and those around her. If they could hold on, those plants and insects and animals that had made it this far, then she would do what she could to preserve them. If only some of them hadn't been so stupid to wander too close to the edges... Still. She had Emrys, and she had Trik. It was enough, for now. Exhaustion egged at her, but she had so much built up that she could still stay awake. She had to. She had to stay awake.
"My dear son... My dear mate..." She nuzzled close to both, just letting the relief flood her and ease her sorrow.
⋯﴾⛧﴿⋯
Emrys, asleep against her, didn't move. Finally, he felt safe enough to sleep, and sleep snatched him quickly, before he could even offer a greeting.
Trik lifted both with ease and began to walk further in, away from the edges. "You should rest, Kayla. I'll wake you if anything happens." His lips pressed against her head, blunt tusks brushing her skin with care. "The spirits say sleep will help to prevent more grief. I think heeding their advise would be wise. Especially now that we have Emrys with us."
As ever, his voice was deep and quiet—a rumble that remained ever-gentle. "I'll keep watch, and then Emrys can have a turn."
⋯﴾⛧﴿⋯
"But... I need to concentrate..." Her tired comment was weak as she clung to him. Tusks assured her. His kiss calmed her. The comfort and security of his grip almost lulled her to sleep, but she desperately clung to consciousness. She didn't want anything else to fall, anything else to crumble. She swallowed back the tears that bit at her eyes. Kayla closed her eyes. It would only be a moment. Yes... Just... a... moment...
⋯﴾⛧﴿⋯
As promised, Trik kept watch. He carried both of his family members to a place at the center of the fragment, then held them tight as he sat against a tree and let his awareness spread around.
With eyes closed, he sensed every movement as he witnessed the spirits themselves.
Their muted colors showed their weakening, but some shone so strong and vibrant they almost blinded. Even after the end, vibrance persisted.