Mordred Pendragon
Battling against opponents made of flesh and blood was a fucking joyride. For the first time in for ever I felt like fighting was something I was good at, really good at, and I enjoyed every last second of it. The swelling tides of blood, slowly creeping across the floor, the rising stench of disembowelled, self righteous pricks, the rattling breaths of the dying, fused into an cacophonous but entrancing song, it made me feel alive, it made me feel powerful… it made me feel free.
I hadn't planned on sullying the moment with the use of magic but when one of the remaining culprits pulled a short, one handed crossbow from underneath his robe I knew the time for fun and games was over. With more than just a little regret I commanded: "deflagro!", marshalling my magic. My aura expanded, a white red streak of power thundered across the room and the crossbow, as well as the attached arm, went up in flames. A heartbeat later only ashes remained, but that wasn't the end of it. Like a living, enraged snake my spell slithered on, latching onto everybody I so desired. Flesh charred, blood boiled, eyes popped out of their sockets, but yet, it wasn't enough. With a defiant growl the last one standing pulled the trigger of the ballista before his shrivelled up body hit the floor and turned into charcoal. With an angry hiss, like a swarm of bees, the bolt raced through the window and vanished in the glaring sunlight.
"Shit," I groused, already dashing across the room. The weapon hadn't been angled downwards and considering the draw strength, provided by two massive, reinforced arms made of oak and and twisted steel, it really should have, even if they had been aiming at my sister.
"The bolt is aimed for the sky, isn't it," Richard asked, while he was tearing strips from the expensive sheets to bandage his side and made sure the abducted kids were still alive. "Out cold but breathing," he commented a second later.
"I think…," I began but I was cut off when a small explosion distracted me. The bolt had detonated several hundred meters above ground. If I hadn't already been following its trajectory I would never have seen the minuscule flames against the bright light. "It just burned up," I stated, barely able to believe in our luck.
"It didn't," the fighter grunted and pulled the improvised dressings tighter. "Poison, remember? Supposedly it can turn anyone it touches into a bloodthirsty berserker. A few hundred meters you say? Considering there are about… nine empty vials, that's… over a kilo. Do you see a pinkish cloud or maybe a haze?" Indeed I did, even though it was faint enough that I'd have overlooked the colourful shadow if I hadn't searched for it. The best part, it was hovering directly above the impromptu gathering in the Garden.
"Shit," I repeated, my thoughts racing. Distance mattered when it came to magic and while my mother or sister wouldn't have had any problems working their arts from here, I didn't expect my own spells to reach that far. Thus, instead of futilely wasting my energy I pushed out my aura even further and turned it into an oversized resonance body for my voice. "Look up," I screamed with everything I had to the chagrin of the humans still stuck in the same room as me. Richard groaned and pressed his hands against his bleeding ears but I didn't care. "Burn it, by the Great Fox, one of you has got to burn that cloud!" And burn it did.
I was too far away to recognise faces but when a flurry of flame and fire suddenly erupted in front of the tree and two gargantuan, golden serpents raised their heads to the sky, the knot of worry in my chest loosened. Viyara's silvery breath and Sera's golden flames caught Ahri and she was propelled upwards on a tide of crystallised light, her four burning wings growing with every second. Crimson flames coalesced around her until she resembled a living fireball and like the wrath of heaven incarnate she thundered into the slowly descending cloud. A blinding explosion followed and I had to avert my eyes, blinking rapidly to clear my vision. When the tears were gone I stared at a clear sky, a shower of soot gracefully falling to the ground like dirty snow.
"Well done," Richard croaked, still unable to unscrew his eyes. "I think, but could you heal my bloody ears? I think you broke them." I didn't move for another handful of seconds but aside from the distant screams, two dragons usually provoked, nothing seemed out of order.
With a sigh I whirled around, my gaze darting form one downed human to the next to make sure they wouldn't provide us with another nasty surprise, but they were all out for the count. Dead, dying, or simply unconscious. Not everyone was blessed with Richard's dwarf like constitution. A few steps brought me to the bed, the necessary spells already forming in my mind. A greenish haze enveloped him and the lucky quartet, fixing their eardrums and the bursted blood vessels. I could have also patched up our prisoners but if one or two of them were to go west I wouldn't lose any sleep over it. They had sowed the wind and had reaped the whirlwind.
"Better," I asked.
"Much. And out there? Did they hear you?" I chucked softly.
"I'm pretty sure you'll know in…" I didn't even get to finish my sentence, as a streak of silvery light shot through the window. Half a heartbeat later Cassandra was surveying the scene, her tails fanned out, her wings crackling in the air.
"What the…," she whispered, taking in the corpses and the ritualistic display.
"That's a darn good question," Richard grumped while he shakily got to his feet, "as well as what happened to my brother. Still, it's good to see you, Cassy. From what I've heard, you've been busy since last we met." The silvery flames in her eyes petered out and she grinned lopsidedly at the colossal man.
"You could say that. I'm sorry about John. I tried to save him, but…" He raised his hand.
"I've already heard the story. Don't sweat it, but next time, you could at least tell me yourself, couldn't you? So… what's gonna happen now? Squeeze the ones who are still breathing until they talk?" She shrugged.
"Depends. Care to tell me what's actually going on?" The burly fighter looked at me.
"You talk. I'll go look for a bottle. There's bound to be something tasty stashed somewhere around here, considering how posh the place once looked." He was already moving, rummaging through the bedside tables and when that didn't yield the desired results, he expanded his search to the downed assassins and the cupboards. "Hah," he finally exclaimed, clutching a bottle in his hands. When he pooped the cork the strong smell of rum drowned out the lingering stench of sizzling meat and opened bowels.
"Well," I began while I busied myself checking the vitals of our underaged friends. "There isn't that much to tell. We were just about to return when your lovely voice drove us to our knees. Sera took off as if she had ants in her pants and I was left with that hulking behemoth. There was a strange, somewhat sweet smell but I didn't think much of it. The whole town reeks like a drunkard after closing hours, as you very well know. Luckily Richard knew what it was. It's a drug, Pleasureheart, but I guess he should be the one explaining that bit, since I don't have the foggiest what it actually is. Anyways, the smell led us here… it's not changed that much. Just imagine all those guys still breathing and on the verge of using their blood," I gesticulated towards the bed, "to meddle with the drug. The pink cloud your lover annihilated consisted of everything they had already produced. The stuff on the floor hasn't been tempered with, I think. That's about it." While I had been talking my sister had come closer, her eyes flaring with silvery light as she studied the unconscious, would be sacrifices.
"Sometimes I just hate my life," she lamented quietly as she whirled around and headed for one of the brigands who was still breathing, even though he wouldn't be for much longer if we didn't stem the flow of blood, gushing from a hole where his shoulder should have been. With a look of explicit contempt Cassy used her wings to cauterise the wound. "I can't stay, believe it or not, I'm on trial right now."
"Again," I interrupted with a groan, remembering the trial on Boseiju that had pretty much started the whole insanity we had been stuck in ever since. She smirked.
"A few things have changed since then but I still have to go. I'll take this one with me, he might yet come in handy…"
"Don't," I interrupted and reached for the only one I knew who could actually speak. He wasn't dead, just yet, only very close to it. While my magic swelled I continued: "that's probably the only one you can use, I've stabilised him and a sip from the pond should have him right back to his disgusting self. I assume you want him as a witness? Is there a connection?"
"I'm not sure but I'd bet on it. By the way, have I already thanked you? I think you just saved us an incredible amount of grief, if not worse. Thank you, both of you." She hugged me briefly and smiled at Richard who raised his bottle in response. "One last thing before I go. Pleasureheart?"
"Bad stuff," Richard immediately replied. "Makes you go all crazy for a while… the stuff they used makes you go crazy until you die."
"Not the best effect for a drug, is it," she mumbled while she hoisted the unconscious man up.
"It doesn't kill you, it turns you into a bloody berserker until someone chops your head off. At least that's what I've heard. By the way…" he pointed at a corpse still coiled around two vials, "I think that's already prepared. Don't open the vials, don't sniff it, don't touch it. It can be absorbed through the skin and I really don't want to fight either of you, ever again."
"Duly noted," I said while my sister was already climbing onto the sill with her knocked out burden. "We'll still collect everything. I'll keep those four unconscious until we're back. Say… half an hour? Could you send someone who could help us carry the lot of them? A few dwarfs or maybe Sera? Also… why in all hells are you on trial?"
"Supposedly killed two kids. Slaves. A few strands of Sera's fur were close by and someone made quite the effort to make it look like I burned their hearts out. Don't worry," she added, when she saw my expression change, "it's not half as bad as it sounds. I've got two very reliable witnesses and with this one, I'm pretty sure I'm not the one going to be hanged. In fact, I've already got a nice, sturdy tree picked out myself. Don't dawdle, will you?" Her last words were already lost in the rushing wind as she threw herself out the window, her wings carrying her further into the sky.
"You know," Richard mumbled, "some would even consider taking your head simply because you can look at her every day. I'm not a child but every time I meet her I feel like a schoolboy who's got to deal with his first crush. Might even be a stroke of luck that she has me shitting my pants every time she opens her mouth." I chuckled mirthlessly. The rush of battle was gone I was feeling rather disgusted with the whole episode by now.
"Indeed, should you decide to try to get close to her you'd be in for one fiery surprise. Probably the deadly kind. Come on, let's make sure none of our captives are pretending and then we'll have to start moving them. The ones still alive, at least." I craned my head when I heard a dry crack for a reply.
"That one's dead," Richard stated innocently, his hands still wrapped around a head, lolling freely on top of a broken neck. "Ah well, no point in crying over spilled milk, is there," he added while he already moved to the next one, his steel rod like fingers reaching. A short yank later we had one less to worry about... again. "A true pity," he lamented and took another swig from his bottle. "I don't think a single one made it out alive, aside from their leader, that is."
"You sure?"
"Not yet, but," another swift movement followed by another toe curling pop, "soon enough." Macabre would probably be an appropriate description for his actions but I had never been opposed to dark humour. A pinched smile formed on my face when I got off my ass to help him. A handful of seconds later there wasn't much left to worry about. Corpses were, for the most part, undemanding and the four kids wouldn't pose much of a problem. At least I hoped so.
"Now what," my companion mumbled as he collapsed onto a fancy chair, entirely oblivious to the stream of blood his weight pressed form the soaked upholstery. With a sad expression he shook his bottle and, with a Herculean effort, offered me the rest.
"Enjoy yourself," I replied distractedly while I listened to the distant sounds, wafting through the open window. There was some commotion but it definitely wasn't enough of a ruckus for anything truly regrettable to have happened. Oh well, I'd know soon enough if Cassy lost it. So would the pitiful crowd outside. "Even the few sips you left in there would have me flat on my ass. I can't even remember the last time I've eaten properly. Must have been yesterday, I think."
"Your loss," he said through a bright smile and downed the rest of the amber liquid. Smacking his lips he continued: "should we carry those four downstairs? Your gran won't be able to fit through the window, anyways. The larger dragon was her, wasn't it?"
"It was. You're taking all of this in stride. Aren't you scared?" He shrugged nonchalantly and rose to his feet with a suppressed curse.
"Motherf… nothing's broken but it still hurts like a bitch. Goddamned weapons… not really. You're decent people. Can't say I'm comfortable with knowing the pretty vixen could swallow me whole but on the other hand… I've told you, I've been around the block. Sera did exaggerate when she called me too idealistic to become a king but it would have sufficed for a dukedom. Not gonna tell you where, but the name Tudor is pretty famous on some islands. Anyways, what I'm getting at is this: one of my first drinking buddies was a hangman and my first real friend my father's torture master. Doesn't get much scarier than that, in my opinion, even though wings, scales and fangs like spears do seem quite imposing. People are strange… they fear what they can't understand. I fear what's out to get me and you and your lot don't really seem like the bloodthirsty type. Sure you could probably wish me to death, but why would you? I'm not… I can't ever be a threat to you and I like to delude myself into thinking you actually like me for my calm and level personality. Also, a poisoned knife to the gut has the same effect as turning into a chewing toy and it's usually even more painful for a longer period of time. So… nah, I'm not scared. Colour me intrigued. Besides, the girls you brought along are the finest I've ever seen. So there's that," he finished with an impish grin.
"That's my next headache in the making," I groaned. "You realise they're either underaged or spoken for?"
"Even the fey," he shot back, even though he quickly gave in when he saw my expression darken. "Relax. I'm not suicidal and I've listened well enough. I'd never touch a girl a… friend of mine is still interested in. Even if it's over."