IK vs PA (Round 2) Multi Battle - Tombs

[Enigmatic Immortal]

This battle begins at Midnight Monday evening!

The following match up is:

Gran Gran vs Death's Apprentice!

[Enigmatic Immortal]

You have two weeks, GOOD LUCK!

[Gran-Gran]

“Bang, Bang,” The gun bellowed through the room, each hit sending another child to the ground. “Bang Bang Bang!”

When it was all over only one remained standing standing, his tiny fist formed into a makeshift weapon which the young boy blew on before stuffing it into his holster that to any adult was actually his undergarments.

Laughter filled the room as the young children stood again, screaming that it was their turn to be Letho Ravenheart, the greatest warrior Corone had ever known. Another boy argued that Sei Orlouge would take the gun-wielder any day, using his telekinesis to turn the bullets to mashed potatoes.

“Lord Orlouge doesn’t have telekinesis you twit, that’s Kyla and she can’t turn bullets into mashed potatoes.” Jormel, the eldest boy in the group and the aforementioned marksman glared across the room at the child who dared argue with his knowledge.

Gran Gran raised her voice over the group, “Now little ones, if we must resort to name-calling we can just end the game right now.”

“But Gran, he’s making stuff up!” Jormel’s face contorted, stuck between appealing to a caregivers softer side and throwing a full on fit. He decided on the later a little too late for the look to come across as anything other than spoiled.

“Jormel, did you really shoot all your friends?” Her tone remained calm, this was certainly not the first time a child had tried her.

The young boy, already knowing where the conversation was heading tucked his head, “No Ma’am.” He drug the toe of his foot across the ground, his hands clasped behind his back.

“Then isn’t it only fair that the other kids can pretend what they want to?” Gran Gran got down on the floor as best you can at one hundred and twenty and looked into the little boys eyes.

He furrowed his brow, his sea-green eyes filled with determination. “Not if they want to play with me.”

Doris stood, though it wasn’t quite as simple as that. There was the effort to get to her knees, and then several little hands tried to pull her up. At last one of the elven teens brought over a chair. It may not seem like much, but to get to standing from kneeling at that age is an accomplishment all its own. She quickly straightened her dress, careful to note the places that would be sore tomorrow, before she again addressed the boy who now had a grin on his face. “Jormel, I think your father will be having a word with you this evening, for the time being though, you can pick up the room while we head out to the gardens.”

“That’s not fa—“

“Now, now Jormel, your friends had to watch you throw your temper tantrum, the least you can do is let them get a head start to the garden to make up for the time you’ve wasted.” She turned from him, pleased to see that his grin was no longer plastered to his face.

She held her aged hand up, picking one of the older girls who helped with the youngsters, “Suzanne, will you stay with him and assure he makes it safely to the gardens?”

The young elf nodded, her dark brown eyes sparkling at the thought of being picked for a special task, “I won’t let you down Gran.”

“Alright little ones, everybody grab a buddy and follow Jefrey, all you older girls grab a baby.” When all twelve young children were with their buddies, and the three remaining teens held the three youngest babies Gran Gran smiled. “Alright everyone, march.”

They made their way through the tombs, the youngest of the Ixian Knights. It was a warm day and even the dim tomb was beginning to become quite uncomfortable. A soft prayer for a gentle wind on the gardens escaped the woman’s lips as she watched the children poking and pulling at each other, their laughter echoing off the cavern walls.

[Amber Eyes]

The mystic raced through the dark tombs, her heart beating faster with each step. When she reached the hall the children played in on rainy or overly hot days she paused. It was silent, too silent. There had been laughter, she was sure of it. She walked quietly, afraid that perhaps she was too late. She reached the carved doorway, pushing back the heavy iron door and peeked inside.

“Kyla!” It was Jormel, a ten year old with a sour disposition and a particular fondness for Akiv. He picked up several books, taking them to the small book rack and dropping them with a thud.

In the center of the space stood a young elf, whose name the mystic could not quite place. She gave a quick curtsy, her deep brown eyes focused on the floor beneath her. “Milady.”

Kyla rolled her eyes, the elves always had a way of making her feel like an exhibit in a museum. “Where are the other kids?” Her voice came out harsher than she meant it to and Jormel and the elf stared at her, jaws agape. The girl recovered first, bowing her head and stuttering. “I…I’m sorry….they’ve gone to the gardens miss.”

A tinge of guilt hit her gut as she looked at the obviously hurt girl. “I’m sorry, there are people in the castle that aren’t supposed to be here. In fact, you two need to get out of here.” The mystic looked around her, as though she might find an answer hidden beneath the mound of blocks in the corner. “Look, take Jormel, go out the back stairwell and head towards the city, do you know the way?”

“Yes ma’am. The east tunnel?”

Thank Thaynes what the elves lack in social graces they make up in smarts.”Good, take him through the east tunnel and through the back gates into the castle. I want you to run to the top floor, my room will be unlocked. Hide there until someone comes for you, understand?”

“Your room?” Jormel smiled, interrupting the duo, “We get to go to an officer suite?”

Unfortunately the same can’t be said for the human children. As she began to tell the child to shut up and follow orders a picture of Akiv entered her mind. Kyla kneeled down, placing her hand on the young boys shoulder. “Actually, I have the biggest suite in the whole castle. My lavatory is larger than General Draconis’ whole room.”

The way his eyes widened and his grin grew to cover his face it was obvious her words had their intended affect. “Now off you go, I’ll see you soon.”

The elf grabbed Jormel’s hand and began to lead him from the room, she whispered a soft “Thank you” as she went.

“Oh yeah,” Kyla shouted, rushing to the hall, “What is your name?”

The elf paused, “Its Lydia.”

“Well Lydia, I look forward to getting to know you better. Stay safe.” With one final glance at the blushing girl she was gone, heading again towards the front gates.

Azza was near, and Kyla had to keep her safe. She was no good to anyone dead, and Cassandra did not seem like the forgiving type. She was nearing the final hall before the gates when she heard footsteps echoing through the cavern, she stopped, her boots squealing against the slick floor. The steps continued, growing closer. Kyla felt the familiar cold of her shadow sword filling her right hand, its weight like an old friend.

[Death's Apprentice]

She had struck her first blow in the grand scheme of things.

Already the nobles were talking about the dinner with furtive whispers. Some in disdain, others with intrigue. The dinner was hardly something one could call ordinary, with the appearance of an outcast daughter to begin a web of politics that threatened a robber baron in his own home. Still, Lynura Du'Galle knew she had served them an interesting plate of carefully pieced together information. If the truth were to be known, she would surely have floundered at the dinner.

She needed more dirt. That was the only way she could describe it. The Ixian Knights had cultivated a carefully contrived public face that showed them as the force fo good left in Corone. Still, their very existence was merely a symptom of a larger problem. One that threatened to engulf Corone in a war it would never recover from. Still, Lynura was hardly one to complain when she got an opportunity to set aside her fancy clothes and begin her work towards solidifying the defiant stance of the Nobles against the tyrannical forces of the Ixian Knights.

Levi, her trusted confidante in these proceedings was already tugging at his shirt before he looked over his shoulder and muttered, "Lyn, you sure this is such a good idea? I mean come on lady, you're going to get yourself killed doing shit like this!"

Lynura turned, her ponytail sheathed in its cloth wrapping slapping him in the face as she hissed, "Do not question me on this Mister Jacobs you are hardly in a position of intellectual capacity to even consider the ramifications of what I might find down there." The sun was concluding its westerly sojourn, giving a bit of lengthy shadow to the street they stood on.

Lynura was dressed in her traditional skirt and blouse combination. Her rapier was set upon her hip as an acknowledgement of Levi's warning that she would be doing something dangerous. She looked far different than when they had exited the house last night. Her boots stamped on the cobblestone before she challenged, "I do not see your so called 'contacts' doing much to help our war effort. I thought you were in with the Radasanth Thief's guild..."

"Two days isn't enough to even get a half hearted commitment darling. You want it quick and dirty get a prostitute, they'll even pretend to like you while it happens..." Levi shot back. Lynura felt the heat of rage fill her slender frame before he slapped him hard across the face with sufficient force to stagger to thief. He gripped his face before she turned and began to walk her boots clicking on the cobblestone streets with a quickened pace that saw Levi sprinting to catch up. He gasped in quick breathes before he said firmly, "Okay, okay I get it. I was crass. You can't hold it against me babe, I fight in a different circle of politics than you but its the same damn show. You haven't even begun to fight in earnest and neither have I!"

Lynura raised an eyebrow before she spoke candidly, "If that was true, why are you here and not drowning another thief in bad ale? Get to work and leave me to do mine. If I do not return tonight assume the worst and send word to Vorsport that the Knights have me. Am I clear on this?"

"As water lady. Now, you going to apologize for hitting me or what?"

"Perhaps when I do something worthy of apology," Lynura replied with disdain. The rake shivered at the treatment before he moved off, grumbling about psycho hotties. Lynura let the comment slide, knowing at the least it meant he was not undressing her with his mind. The quicker she broke that disgusting habit, the more she could feel at ease when she needed to bathe later this week for court. She of course only had a few days.

Entrance into the old Tomb had been easy enough, and Lynura moved with a confident air of authority. She did not certainly belong, but that was unimportant. She only needed to look like she did and as her boots scraped along the stone passageways echoing before her she move undaunted into the torchlight. She could only wonder in silent amazement that anyone had called this place a home. Still her quiet contemplation came to an abrupt halt when she turned the corner and saw a young woman standing there dark blade in hand.

"Oh my..." The words hardly left her lips before her hand came to her slender throat in some devilishly stupid reaction to danger.

[Amber Eyes]

A strange woman appeared suddenly, the echoes of her footsteps stopping moments after her boots did. She was thin, finely dressed, long hair pulled back into a braid, she looked like any other high class girl from Radasanth save one small detail. A rapier sat waiting its moment at her side.

The reaction to seeing the mystic implied she wasn’t much of a warrior. In fact, any other day it would have made the young general laugh. The stranger didn’t look deadly, but Kyla wasn’t sure she wanted to test that theory. The mystic held her sword in front of her, though her heart wasn’t in the threat and it showed. She swallowed hard as she tried to hold the blade a little higher, the reflection of the firelight dancing on the dark cavern walls. “Who are you?”

The woman seemed to consider the question, a little too long for Kyla to be sure she was getting the truth from the girl. A flicker of light filled her eyes as she replied coolly “Erraides.”

The mystic thought for a moment, her eyes still on the weapon at the girl’s side. “Okay Erraides, now for the second obvious question, what are you doing in my home?”

The woman answered quickly, “I was curious about the Ixian Knights, I suppose I’m not the first to want to know a bit more about the group trying to take over Corone. I figure where better to start than right here where it all began.”

Kyla mulled over the answer less concerned with the truth than with gauging just how much of a threat the woman was. She looks just like the type of girl who would go into an armies camp during a war to satiate her curiosity. I don’t have time to mess around with her.

“Okay, look. Give me an hour and I’ll give you a whole damn tour, but this isn’t a good time.”

The woman smiled, looking from the blade extending from Kyla’s hand and then to back to her face, “And might I ask your name?”

Annoyed the mystic pulled her sword back, warmth returning to her fingers as she allowed it to slowly dissolve. “Normally I’d say some stranger walking in here didn’t have the right to any questions, but if you must know, the name is Kyla Orlouge.”

A slight spark of recognition may have crossed the stranger’s face, but the mystic had been struggling to read this girl from the start. “I’ve got to go now, you can’t be down here. Follow me and I’ll take you to the front gates, someone there can give you some info.”

With one final look over the woman Kyla began to run, taking little notice of how well the stranger was keeping up. The children should have made their way to the castle entrance by now, she sent a silent prayer that they had not run into anymore curious countrymen who just happened to carry weapons.

((Kyla and Lynura leave the tombs and enter the outer gates))

[Death's Apprentice]

((Bunny Approved, moving to outer gates...))

[Gran-Gran]

The line of children and almost-adults caused a smile to creep across the old Mystic’s face. The vigor and carefree attitude of the little ones reminded the aging lady of a story she used to read her own children. In the story, there was a child who never wished to grow up, and took on a gang of little ones with similar dreams, dodging dangers and having fun. The situation seemed to fit now, only Doris herself would probably be the ‘Peter’ of this story, as it were.

After all, though her skin grew wrinkles and her hair turned gray, Doris Renee Orlouge had always been young at heart.

The kids were doing whatever they could to pass the time; some were running around the various doors and tunnels chasing one another, others were finding toys left by the others after the move to Ixian Castle to play with, and the few teenagers that Gran-Gran had with her were rocking the smallest additions to sleep, or playing with them. While it seemed like as good a place as any to stay for the long haul, Sei's warning had been clear.

"There is an enemy combatant loose on the grounds. All emergency protocals should be in place. Code names are in effect until futher notice."

It had been the idea of Jasmine Draconis after her infant was snatched, each child in Ixian Castle was given an alternate name to use when outsiders were within the walls. The elderly woman had spent hours learning the alternate monikers and each child had been drilled with the information. There were more than enough things to worry about without adding in a bounty on the heads of the higher-ranked officer's children. Ixian Castle was quickly becoming the safest place in Corone for a child, thanks in part to lessons learned from encounters with the Cult of Blessed Torture.

"All right kids, we're playing the name game now. Does everyone remember what their name is?" A dozen or so little heads nodded while other kids chatted excitedly about the 'game'. It was a favorite exersize for the little ones, most of whom picked out their own alias.

She watched the children until she felt a tug at her blue speckled sunflower dress. The older woman looked down to find a small girl, blonde hair and green eyes, staring up at her. In the darling thing's hand was a tome, dust collected on the spine of the book, its pages yellow from months, possibly years, of being idle. The girl lifted the book, a hopeful look upon her face. Her emerald eyes quivering in the darkness, her lips pouted as if she had already been told no, there was something about that look that simply melted the Mystic’s heart.

“Alright,” Gran-Gran said, taking the book from the girl, whose face took a vast turn for the better. She kneeled down slowly, attempting to situate her bottom onto the dirty ground below. A thought passed her mind about sweeping later once all the children were down for naps, but for now it was story time. The elderly woman opened the tome, dust flying out of its contents into a small cloud, causing adult, teenager, and child under its influence to cough.

Once the hacking had subsided, Doris cleared her throat, the simple noise causing one more child to join the girl, who was now sitting just two feet across from her makeshift narrator. “The book is titled Tales of the Red Robin. Let me start by reading you little angels my favorite story in the series.”

She licked her thumb, grabbing the page by the corner and turning. As she looked for her favored section, more children began to gather around, followed by the teenagers. By the time she had located The Curious Adventures of Peter Potts, the entire cave had gone silent with anticipation for her story time. Seeing the youth of Ixian Castle gathered around so intently just to hear her talk brought with it it's own kind of joy.

“Once upon a time…”

[Amber Eyes]

As the Pheonix Ascendant argued about their loyalties Kyla made her move. With a gentle flick of her wrist a large blue orb appeared in the sky, its shell beginning to crack as what was inside fought for freedom. The ball split, the fire within reaching out in all directions as Kyla turned and ran. The explosion of the firework rang in her ears as she reached the concrete arch that would lead her once again into the tombs below. It was a cheap trick, no more than a light show on an already bright day, but all Kyla needed was a chance to run. As she made her way down the steps, she heard the echoing of the last few pops and could only hope it had caught the strangers off guard. She reached the bottom of the landing and made a sharp turn, heading in the direction of the old housing section. Her only chance was to outrun them, and the maze of tunnels below the earth was her best shot.

The damp heat of the caverns caught up to the girl quickly, her face beginning to pour as she hit the first turn. Echoes of footsteps filled the air, and it was impossible to know if they were her own or if they belonged to someone behind her. Still, the resonating reverberations pushed the mystic forward, her mind racing with each available path. A quick right turn a few seconds too late left a sharp pain when her hip crashed into a corner. She righted herself, running again though struggling to pick up her pace. She was forced to favor the injured leg, and it was clear she would lose whatever lead she might have on her pursuers quickly. Each step sent a pain rushing through her leg as she approached her old room deep in the tombs.

With a look behind her she opened the heavy oak door and shut herself inside, breathing hard as she made her way through the pink and gray filled space. The echoes crept under the door, each one pounding in tune with her heart. There was no escaping should they find her, she couldn’t outrun anyone now. She lifted her shirt and looked at her left side, the beginnings of a large bruise already showing above the top of her black pants.

She sat on the plush bed, looking around the space. It felt right somehow; this room always reminded her of who she really was. Stuffed animals lined the walls, each one held a memory of a date or special occasion. She wasn’t a warrior; just a scared little girl who knew a few tricks. The practice weapons from her time training to be a general lay gathering dust in a corner. She wasn’t a hero; she had probably done more bad than good in her short life. Against the far wall stood a bookcase, lined with cheesy romance novels and stories of great fighters. She should have been content with studying greatness rather than attempting to reach it. As she watched the knob beginning to turn she smiled, if she would die it would be surrounded by all the tiny things that made her who she was. A scared little girl with big dreams.

[The Cinderella Man]

((Coming down from Outer Gates))

The descent down the winding stairs was swift and about as pleasurable as it could've been given the circumstances. His shoulder still ached as he hurried down the staircase and into the gloom, each step a reminder that not so long ago it was yanked out of the socket by a rock the size of cow’s head. But on the flip side, the little blonde hellion was bouncing down the stairs in front of him, her skirt swirling, the length and curve of her legs most definitely not lost to the dimness. Sure, they were in the middle of the war. Sure, she was about half his age. But a hard life made Victor appreciate these little things regardless of the circumstances, and after enough steps he wasn’t mulling over her loyalty all that much. Lynura reminded him a bit of Delilah, the lover he had lost without ever truly having her. But that was a lifetime ago, and lecherous thoughts made way for those of foolish infatuation.

Too bad we’re not going up, his mind couldn’t suppress the thought, and that made him grin again. He had to wipe it off like a milk stain and fast, though, as the stairs ended and led them into a hallway that was as inviting as the dungeons he had crawled out of recently. Well, maybe not as uninviting. The stone walls here weren’t covered with moss and the whole place didn’t reek of week old shit and mold. There were lamps burning on the walls in more or less regular intervals, spreading half-circles of yellow light all around them. The place still pressed down in on them, though, reminding them that they were in a place where no living men should be walking.

“Tombs,” Victor said plainly, taking his eyes off Lynura’s ass and taking a gander down the length of the hall. “Do these Ixian Knights have any quarters above ground?”

“These look rather vast,” the girl responded, her grip firm on that sleek blade of hers. “They might go for miles in all directions. What do you propose, Mister Callahan?”

“For one, don’t call me Mister Callahan. My father was Mister Callahan and every time you say it, have this awkward urge to turn around and look from him, especially in this place.” It was enough to draw a half-hearted smirk on her face. “Victor will do. And you’re right. These go for miles. Miles and miles. But most of it is closed off or collapsed.”

The blonde put a hand on her hip, looking up at him with a questioning glance. “And pray tell how exactly did you come up with this information?”

“Let’s just say I took a glimpse into the mind of a genius,” Victor responded, deflecting her sharp glare by dropping his eyes to the pistol in his hand. He was courteous enough to give her breasts only the briefest of glances. He pulled the slider halfway, checking if the cartridge was in place. “We should split up and try to track Kyla Orlogue down. She’s important to Sei and that makes her important to us as well. Just try not to kill her if you find her.”

The blonde girlie didn’t seem overly satisfied with his explanation, but he didn’t give her a chance to unleash her tongue again, slipping past her and down the left stretch of the hallway. A good number of openings didn’t have doors, the rooms beyond enshrouded in darkness with only the vaguest of shapes revealing their contents. Those doors that Victor encountered were mostly unlocked, but he found little of significance beyond them. Dusty sarcophaguses, stacked crates, cobwebs thick enough to cut with a sword and what looked like a well-supplied pantry. It was when he caught the scent of dry meat and spices that he finally heard sounds other than his own footsteps. There were voices, yes, even laughter, and it seemed only a wall away. Victor backed out of the room, tried the next door in the row of them, found them locked. A brisk tackle with his good shoulder served as a universal key on most of doors, but what he found beyond stopped him in his tracks.

There was an old woman sitting at the floor of the room, a fat leather-bound tome held in her lap. And all around her, spread like an audience in an amphitheater, sat children. Their eyes, wide with fear and surprise, stared at him, their breaths held back. The silence was thick and heavy and absolute, the echo of his clangorous entrance dying down to leave only the faint flutter of the lamps audible.

This is turning into a real pain in the ass job, Victor thought, meeting a couple of those innocent looks before being met by the cutting eyes of the grandmother.

“I’m looking for Kyla Orlouge, crone. Seen her?” he asked.

[Gran-Gran]

((Due to circumstances beyond my control at this point, I find myself lost at how to write with this character. As a result, Gran-Gran is officially withdrawn from this battle, and Cinderellla Man, as well as members of the Ixian Knights, have full permission to bunny both Gran-Gran and the children how they see fit. I also ask that any member whose posts directly is relying on my posting not be docked their wild card posts, if at all possible. This includes Death's Apprentice, Cinderella Man, and Amber Eyes.))

[The Cinderella Man]

The gray-haired ancient got up to her feet with the careful slowness common for old people, the kind that made you think a move more sudden than that would break a hip. She maneuvered herself between the sitting youngsters until she was positioned between them and the muscular gunman. And though she looked like someone Victor could blow away with a sneeze let alone a gunshot, the green eyes beyond those spectacles were clear and resolute, reprimanding even in silence. She reminded him of his own grandmothers, though his were both stocky and fat at their advanced age, and this one was wiry and bone-dry. But they all had the same look in their eyes, the same age-old compassion mixed with week-old fatigue written on their faces. The similarity made his job that much harder, but he pushed through it. He never did like old people much.

“Children, go to the bedroom and close the door,” she instructed in a calm voice tinged with just enough authority to send the little ones scurrying towards the door. Once they were gone, she hugged the tome and put the weight on her back foot as she looked up at Victor’s face.

“And who exactly are you, young man, and why do you seek Kyla?” the old woman asked. For a moment the gunslinger felt like he was back in Scara Brae, and he had gotten his good pants dirty and his grandmother wanted to know why. But then common sense kicked in and Victor remembered he was well past thirty and well past the scolding of old women.

“Why, I’m her knight in shining armor. Well, sans the armor,” he jested, spreading his arms in introduction, even doing a little bow. The hag wasn’t amused, barely cocking an eyebrow to his antics. “I need to talk to her. So, have you seen her?”

“If you only mean to talk to her, then why do you need that?” the grandmother asked, nodding her ancient face toward the black pistol in his hand.

“Oh this? This makes talks go more smoothly in my experience.” Victor responded.

“Hmph,” was the response he got from the crone, coupled with about twelve more wrinkles on her leathery forehead. “So you’re a bully. Didn’t your mother ever teach you...”

“My mother,” the gunman cut her short. He couldn’t quite make himself aim his gun at the old crone yet, but his thumb was nervously fiddling with the safety. “is of no interest to you, hag. I’m not here for your sermons. So one last time, Kyla Orlouge.”

“I have nothing to say to you,” the woman insisted.

“Is that so? Well, perhaps one of the kids remembers better.”

“NO!” she raised her voice. “You wouldn’t dare?”

“I wouldn’t?” Of course he wouldn’t. Victor Callahan had grown to be many things over the years – a bitter bastard, a murderer, a bit of a drunk if the occasion was right – but a child killer he was not. Sure, he had no love for the little rugrats. They always annoyed him with their whining and their demanding nature and their constant craving for attention. But harming one was a threshold he had no intention of passing. Not today, and not ever. But the old woman didn’t have to know that. Being a bad guy didn’t always mean you had to do bad things. Sometimes it was enough to pretend to be able to do them. He made a step towards the room beyond which the kids hid. He never got a chance to make another.

He took his eyes off the crone for just a moment, but that was enough for her to fling the big fat tome towards him. The gunslinger brought an arm up to block it, the book hitting his bad shoulder and making him cringe at the pain. By then, the gray-haired witch had backed away a couple of steps towards the corner, wrapping her hand around a broom. It made Victor chortle and shake his head.

“So, you plan to fly on that or what?” he quipped, and then she was moving towards him and the hag wasn’t flying. Instead, she swung the thing at him in a wide arc, grunting as she did so. Victor backstepped easily, still grinning. “Quite a swing you got there, crone.”

The grandmother paid no heed to his jests. She brought the broom handle back towards him, aiming at his temple and missing only because the gunman ducked below the swing that swept the top of his head. She swung once again, twice, thrice, sweeping the invisible cobwebs from the air with vigor of one half her age. Victor moved away from the blows with ease, sidestepping, dropping low, spinning away. He could hear muffled gasps from beyond the ajar door, and eyes peering through the crack. The next time she came at him, the broom came in a thrust, making Victor deflect it with the barrel of his gun and bringing him face to face with the crone who was breathing like a blacksmith’s bellows by now.

“Take it easy, grandma, you’re going to...” But he never got a chance to finish. She shoved against him with all her strength, and for a moment he lost sight of the broom. He felt it a fraction of a second later, though, when it landed square between his legs. There was no pain quite like a kick in a jewels, not for a man at least. Its suddenness left him out of breath and on the back foot for a moment, hunched over and backing away from a woman, his grin most definitely gone. His free hand went to his crotch, his scrunched face staring towards the crone with a painful frown. She didn’t seem keen on giving him respite, though. The broom was already high above her head, ready to bop him on the head.

Victor stood his ground, his gun hand moving like a serpent. And gunshot ripped through the tombs like thunder from clear skies. The shot stopped the woman dead.

The bullet struck the handle of the broom about two inches above her hands, shattering the wood and snapping the handle, leaving her with a piece of wood about ten inches long. By the time the gray-haired hag realized what had happened, Victor was back to full height, Aicha leveled with the wrinkled face. His nuts hurt, his crotch hurt, hell, even his stomach seemed to hurt from the hit he took. And he was done playing this mummer’s dance.

“Now, need I ask again?”

“You can ask until you’re blue in the face, but you’re not getting anything from me,” the old woman was adamant. She was breathing heavily by then, her eyes wide and rattled by the shot that nearly ended her, but her voice was unwavering. “They are my children, my family. All of them. Kyla, Sei, the little ones. And if I need to die in order to protect them, then so be it. So either be done with it or be gone.”

She plopped down onto a chair and Victor breathed deeply out of his nostrils in frustration. This wasn’t exactly his plan. He joined the war to fight the usurpers and vigilantes, and wound up threatening children and shooting and old ladies. How the hell did it come to this? He couldn’t really say. These things had a tendency to go very bad in a hurry, like an avalanche that starts with a snowball and ends up wrecking a village. He was on a slide here, and there had to be an end to it. He holstered the pistol and made his way out of the room.

“And shut the door behind you, young man!”

[Death's Apprentice]

The search was getting old, very fast. Despite the fact she had already been in these tombs for the better part of the day, the fact the walls all looked the same meant that Lynura was having a hard time finding her way through the dirt and clutter. Her hair was plastered to her head now, with a shine not at all from the washing she had given it for the estate dinner less than two days ago. She was dirty from the cloying dust that she kicked up by merely going through the hallways of the tomb, and she was tired from the exertion of running up and down stairs only to lose sight of her prey.

To say Lynura Du'Galle was annoyed would be to drastically understate the situation.

Still she moved on, rapier drawn incase some guard of the Ixian Knights should show himself. Though she was more amazed to see there was no such guard posted. Perhaps they had poured more into the fight to retake Gisela than she realized. IF that was the case, she would have to inform Elisdrasil. While not her forte, she recognized the tactical application her data could garner.

Levi's warning of the dangers running through the tombs seemed almost laughable. Though with Max Dirks, notorious crime lord, and Sei Orlouge running around, she was certain there was still a risk. Still, this was a fight that suited her, she wasn't trying to kill the Leader of the Ixian Knights, perhaps he would wish it, but she was admittedly not a creature that fought battles she could not win. She was a vulture, and as much as it pained her petty pride to admit it, she could not tackle Sei Orlouge unless she was certain she could wield Kyla Orlouge's safety as a weapon. Such cowardly tactics were lamentable, but given the situation she could hardly think of better.

Corone needed this, Sei Orlouge had done more harm than good and despite his title as the Hero of Radasanth, she was certain that had been the start of Corone's decline. Without the ability to depend on its own military to protect itself it grew lax. If Sei Orlouge would pick up their mess why bother having one? This in turn led to the Political Coup that had caused the Ranger's Revolution. Lynura was more than certain that if Sei were to succeed in this war, any ability for Corone to pick itself up from the last time he had "helped" would be forever lost. He would be the ruler of Corone, no matter which puppet he set upon the throne.

It was enough to revitalize her limbs, giving Lynura all the energy she needed to continue the search as she began to push door after door open. Her eyes narrowed as she let a bit of her anger out upon the mere panels of wood in her way, slamming them open with an air of authority not wholly imagined. She would check the rooms only with a cursory glance before moving on, each door left open to mark her way. If she came to an already open door, she would know if she had come through already, or if someone was nearby.

It wasn't until she reached a particular door that she recognized that it was not empty. The door opened with a slam before she looked in upon the room of Kyla Orlouge. Her eyes smoldering with anger, but not hate. Hate was not something she deigned the Ixian Knights worthy of. They were contemptible, but not beyond salvation. If they could just be stopped they should be able to spot the error of their ways. Still her eyes picked up the musty scent of sweat mixed with dust as she spotted Kyla Orlouge sitting upon her bed. A sigh of partial relief filtered from her mouth as her piercing blue eyes met with the ice blue of the Mystic's, a small battle of wills beginning. Lynura merely arched an eyebrow at the careless way she sat upon the bed before she spoke, "If you come willingly, I needn't hurt you. I dislike the premise of a captive, but if that is what it takes to teach your Uncle the lesson, then I shall be forced to do it. Now Kylanna Orlouge, General of the Ixian Knights, Will you come into my custody, or will you force me to use my blade?"

She already lamented drawing her blade, using it would be the ultimate defeat of the Diplomat.

[Amber Eyes]

As the door swung open Kyla inhaled the scent of the small room one last time. As the noblewoman entered the girl shifted her eyes, but made no movement save a small twitch of her fingers within Sophia’s Mane. As the mystic mulled over the woman’s demands she stood, turning her back on the stranger. If she had not attacked by this point it seemed unlikely she actually wanted a fight. Several small footsteps carried her to her bookshelf, each step echoing throughout the space. As she reached the polished mahogany shelf she ran her fingers across the dusty tombs. She stood atop her tiptoes, reaching the top of the shelf and moving her hand around until she felt the familiar texture of canvas.

Kyla pulled the painting down, holding the canvas in her arms as she crossed the room towards the woman. She held out the picture, holding back tears as she tried to keep her eyes from the image that glossed the surface. “I’m here for a reason; I don’t care about the silly war. If you need something from me it is going to have to wait,” Kyla tossed the portrait gently upon the bed. It was one of her first pictures; Akiv was a mere three months old, his sky blue eyes staring at her. “My son is….” A gunshot filled the tombs, with distant shouting following close behind.

Kyla’s mind raced, Azza Ambrose had to be protected. “If you want me you'll have to follow.”

She ran from the room, heading down the hallway towards the gunfire.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Anita Orlouge held tight to her sister’s hand, making her way down the steep steps. Emma’s grip was crushing the mystic’s fingers, but she merely gave a weak smile. Azza Ambrose waked before them, her horns peeking out above her bright blonde hair. They were the innocents; Anita had to keep reminding herself of that. They were to hide, to find Gran Gran and make their way into the castle. As the trio stepped further into the caverns a gunshot filled the air.

Anita began to turn around, ready to make a quick retreat into the castle walls when Emma’s hand left hers. The yellow-haired teen’s footsteps filled the space as she ran toward the gunfire. “Emma, No!” Anita looked to Azza before running after her sister, aliases be damned. Anita grasped at the back of Emma’s shirt, pulling her to the ground hard as they reached the end of the tunnel. Anita quickly crawled to Emma’s head, placing her fingers over the younger girl’s lips and softly whispering. “We cannot try to be heroes Emma, the Pheonix Ascendant have cost this army hundreds of men. What exactly do you think you will accomplish running into gunfire?”

Suddenly Anita’s hand seemed to explode with pain, Emma’s teeth digging into the skin until she was forced to pull her fingers back. Anita jumped, staring at her sister with confusion in her eyes. Azza reached out to look at the bite, but Anita pulled her hand away.

Emma stood, taking a step toward the other two girls, looking between Azza’s glowing red orbs and Anita’s blue ones. “Ella is somewhere in this tomb.” With one final look at Anita she turned the corner.

[Silence Sei]

By the time the mute had made it inside the tombs, he had become short on breath. Sweat nearly flowed out of every orifice on his body, his hair released from its tied knot on top of his head to allow the wet strands to cool his face. Luckily, this season brought with it occasional bouts of cold wind, chills that seemed to envelope the tombs in their coldness. The Mystic made his way down each step towards the constant intersecting paths of his former home.

How long had it been since he traveled down here? The last time the mute recalled his adventures in these caves, Jensen Ambrose had switched bodies with him and wreaked havoc across the Ixian Knights. Sei shudder, a mixed combination of his sweat and the cold atmosphere being attributed to the motion. With each step he took, Sei felt as if his legs were going to collapse. This was not true; his legs were just not used to so much running in such a short period of time. Marathon sprinters had less to worry about.

As he finally reached the bottom step, he heard the sound of running, feet constantly hitting the ground hard. Someone was either being chased, or escaping. The mute reached to his side as he advanced down towards a three way intersection, the running sounds becoming increasingly louder. The path to the north of the mute was silent, but the path to the east carried with it the now loud footsteps. Whoever was there, they were upon him. Sei held his bladed ring towards the mouth of the eastern tunnel…

..Had he been a slower man, Sei would have cut the blonde strands off of his smallest daughter’s head. Luckily, Sei had pulled back his arm ever so slightly, allowing the little girl to be upon him, the child holding herself and tip-toeing as if she were trying to avoid a floor of mouse traps.

“Daddy….” The girl said, her voice rushed and panicked, “I have to go piddle and I got lost!” Sei looked to the azure orbs of the little girl, kneeling down in front of her with a smile. Despite his weariness, Ella’s dance seemed to revitalize him ever so slightly. If her quivering face did not look like it was in agonizing pain, the scene would have probably been hilarious to the Mystic.

“Come on, Ella,” Sei said, his smile still bright for his little girl, “I’ll show you where the bathroom is. Though I am surprised that Gran-Gran let you go by yourself.”

“I told her I knew where I was going,” Ella spoke, still doing her pee-pee dance as she grabbed Sei with her spare hand, “but I don’t.”

“I’ll have to have a talk with Gran-Gran when we get through here.” Sei spoke, rising up and leading the girl towards the north, to his own quarters. Luckily, the mute’s old room was not far from the entrance to Ixian Castle, and his little girl thankfully held her bladder long enough for the two to arrive in front of the large red door, the letters that spells out Sei’s name faded into the oak.

Ella required no prompting, bursting through the entryway and probably to the bathroom. Sei, being the gentleman that he was, stayed outside and waited for his little girl. As he did so, the strategist saw something peculiar in the corner of his eye. Three figures, decidedly female, ranging in size. Sei sighed to himself, realizing that perhaps Gran-Gran was an irresponsible caretaker in times of war. Aimer had already done more for the children than the old lady had.

As the forms got closer, Sei realized that two of the taller forms belonged to his other two daughters, Emma and Anita. Emma was ahead of her sister, running as if her life depended on it, and Anita dragged the third girl, little Azza Ambrose, behind her as she tried to keep pace with her sister. Emma stopped in front of her father, her focus not on the Mystic at all. He could, after all, take care of himself.

“Ella?”

Sei motioned his head towards the inside of his room, and the girl quickly went to join her sister. He could hear the muffled cry of the older sibling as she reunited with her kin. Anita stopped only for a second, nodding to her father and going into the room soon after Emma. As soon as the door closed, Sei released a huge sigh of relief. By some stroke of luck, he had found all three of his daughters before the Phoenix Ascendant could harm them. He laughed, his back resting against the stone walls of the tombs as he slid down, tears filling his eyes.

He had found them, found all three of them with minimum effort. All of his girls were safe, save Kyla. The mute could not contain the joy he held in his heart at this very moment. Where he had failed Kyla, he had succeeded with his other daughters. It was the first time in his life that Sei truly felt like a real hero to somebody important to him.

Anita’s head peeked out of the door, looking around and finally down at her father. Seemingly unaffected by the fact the Ixian leader was crying, Anita smiled, the sounds of laughter now escaping out of the crack she poked her head out of. “You coming Papa?”

Sei nodded, standing up and entering the room, the twin swords on his back glowing a faint blue color as the door closed behind him.

[Amber Eyes]

Kyla raced down the hallway, favoring her hip as she made her way once again through the tombs. The joint resisted her, screaming it’s annoyance through shooting pains, but the mystic kept on. She did not look back to see if the outsider followed, it mattered little to her what decision the woman made. Her own safety meant little when compared to that of Akiv, once she had fulfilled her promise to the dark mother and Akiv was safely within the castle wall it was unimportant what happened to her. She had not been a good mother by any means, but she had realized that once someone has children they cease being the center of their own universe. She could only hope Azza would still be alive when she reached her, deep inside she almost wished Draug had captured her, at least he wouldn’t kill her before Cassandra got what she needed.

A gentle laugh filled the air, and Kyla stopped. She turned her head and looked down the hallway that led to Sei’s room within the tombs. The high-pitched squeal filled the air again, prompting her to take slow steps towards the closed door. The dim lighting created shadows throughout the area and Kyla stepped inside of them as she approached the end of the hall. With one quick movement she turned the knob and flung open the heavy oak. With a loud bang the door hit the back wall, and Kyla looked into the frightened eyes of her younger sisters, and the shocked face of her uncle. A smile graced her lips, “Thank Thaynes you guys are alright.”

Sei stepped forward, a silly grin upon his face as he pulled her into an embrace, the mystic waited for words to enter her mind but none came. He held her tightly, her head barely peeking over his shoulder as she allowed her body to relax in his grip. Ella soon grabbed her leg, Emma joining in from behind and Anita making an exasperated sigh as she too wrapped her arms around the family. Kyla closed her eyes, tears nearly falling upon her cheeks as she reunited with the group. It was in the arms of these people that she always felt safe.

She opened her eyes again; eager to look into the eyes of her loved ones, and there behind Sei stood a little girl with blonde hair and growing horns. Her eyes sparkled as she smiled sheepishly at the family reunion, obviously feeling out of place. Her red eyes met Kyla’s own and she gave a small nod of recognition. Kyla swallowed hard looking into the innocent child who would take Akiv’s place in the arms of Cassandra Remi. The daughter of the man she had already taken everything from, Azza Ambrose.

[Aimer Haine Rogers]

I had made my way down the steps, ahead of everyone I had known was behind me. Lord Orlouge would probably come to check on the children once he finished slaying the demon-spawn that had come after me and the kids. While I was tired from the brisk run straight from the gardens to the tombs, I could not help but feel as though my years of early morning sprints had helped my body not break down as fast as it would have under normal circumstances.

My clothes were covered in dust from covering my tracks. The smell of freshly tampered dirt snaking its way into my nose, causing a quick sneeze to escape my form. I shook off my allergies as I made my way down the stairs. There was an eerie clicking as my feet hit the steps one by one, and I felt as though I was in one of those monster plays I had seen in my youth. Then again, the handsome average joe was the one who usually the one who would slay the beast and save the day in those stories.

That thought once again made me queasy as I thought of my charges. I had been assigned to protect the kids and the most I could do was buy them time to escape. A feeling of uneasiness overwhelmed me. I found myself walking through the various intersecting roads of the caves known as Sei’s Tomb, only to find myself lost. I had never really bothered to learn the schematics of the caverns, and now I was paying for my laziness.

My attention was jarred back into reality when I heard footsteps. I could not tell who they belonged to, just that they were heading in my direction. I looked towards the walls of the tomb, finding several doors on each side of me. Without thinking about the dangers of taking an unknown door somewhere, I dived into the room closest to me, gently closing the door behind me.

I heard the footsteps come and go, the tension in my shoulders easing up. I took a heavy swallow, my eyes still fixated on the door. Once I was sure nobody was coming, I turned around, my eyes growing wide at what I saw.

A normal person would see it as rubble, just a bunch of rocks crumpled on the ground. I, however, knew exactly what the rocks once were, for I helped move them down here from Ixian Castle. I was looking at the prophecy of the Ixian Generals; the one Cassandra Remi had destroyed during her ‘Night of Debauchery’. I never saw the full tablet when it was assembled, and now each piece lay at my feet, begging me to come closer to it. Once again, I found myself not controlling my own body as I approached the stones.

A blue beam of light glowed gently from within the pile of rubble. As I reached for the azure hued haze, the light seemed to shoot into my chest, a variety of images flashing through my head. It suddenly all made sense to me.

I was never meant to play the hero. My role was so much bigger than that. I was meant to be the herald. I smiled as a warm feeling overtook my body. The kids were probably with Lady Gran-Gran by now; they had remembered to learn the winding paths of the tombs. As I began to black out, I held one thought in my mind.

Emma Orlouge…

((This is my final post this round, as I feel I no longer have a viable reason to keep Aimer fighting. Also, this post was meant to become before Sei's, so sorry for the confusion there. Good game, guys!))

[Silence Sei]

Sei looked to his niece, his adoptive daughter, with the biggest smile one could imagine. How did she escape the evil grasp of the cult? Why did she come to the tombs of all places? Most of all, why did the girl not seem as excited to see her family as they were to see her? So many questions spun through the telepath’s head as he looked at Kyla’s blue eyes. Something was definitely wrong.

Did they……no….Kyla…

His first thought was an imposter. Surely, the true Kyla would have been happy to reunite with her loved ones. However, Sei could feel the Mystic magics of his relatives in the vicinity, Kyla being the only other true Mystic in the room. It was an affect the girl had on her adoptive father ever since passing both the Light and Shadow Trials of the Mystic race, no doubt a feeling other true Mystics had around the woman as well.

His next thought was indoctrination. Thaynes know that Cassandra Remi was an expert manipulator, and Kyla had once succumbed to a bout of craziness before. The Gisela Reaper knew this, and would have done everything in her power to brainwash the girl into her way of thinking. Yes, that had to be it. Kyla was being controlled by Cassandra Remi, but the question was, why?

Sei found his answer when Kyla broke free of the massive group hug she was sharing to approach Azza. Each step the girl took towards the child seemed slow, calculated. Sei raised an eyebrow, his mind dipping ever so quickly into the mind of his niece to try and find the rationale behind her actions.

“I’m so sorry...”

Those words, leaving Kyla’s brain and sinking into Sei’s, was all the mute needed to react. Of course, Cassandra wanted Azza Ambrose, it all made sense. The wannabe Demi-God would do anything to torture all of her enemies, old and new and using Azza to manipulate her father, the powerful Jensen Ambrose, was almost an unspoken and predictable strategy. If the Mystic had not invaded his daughter’s privacy, Cassandra would have a new weapon against the Ixian Knights.

Sei took several steps, positioning himself between Kyla and Azza. His arms wrapped around the girl’s arms, tighter this time. Kyla tugged to try and release the hold, her concerned eyes meeting with Sei’s now serious demeanor. That look was all she needed to know that her uncle was on to her, and she struggled to break away, yet not cause a scene to alert her sisters.

“Papa,” Anita Orlouge’s soft voice filled the tense room, the voice of every other innocent bystander here, “Papa, what are you doing?”

Sei’s eyes widened as he looked to Anita, Kyla’s head doing the same. Before the mute could even explain the situation to his little girl, Kyla saw an opportunity and took it.

“Anita….please…”

[Amber Eyes]

“I need you.” As the words left her lips a tear ran down her cheek, Sei was ruining everything. Akiv would die unless Anita acted. She stared at her sister, trying to read the expression on her face. Anita stood motionless, her eyes darting between her Sei and Kyla, it was a choice she never thought she would have to make.

The mystic held out her hand, the white opera glove glowing softly in the dim lighting, its golden hue drawing the younger girl in. Anita nodded; her eyes trained on Kyla, and stepped forward slowly. When she grabbed Kyla’s hand the mystic sighed, Anita would reason with Sei and she would make her escape. It would only take a moment of freedom for her to grab the child and shadow step back to the forest. Perhaps even one day the two could find a way to forgive her for what she was about to do.

Anita held her hand for a long moment, searching Kyla’s eyes. The mystic whispered a soft ‘thank you’ to her sister, breathing heavily as Sei held her tight. Anita squeezed the girl’s fingers, offering the slightest smile as she rescued her. Kyla smiled back, her sister would take care of her. And then in one fluid motion Kyla felt Sophia’s Mane being pulled from her arm. She tightened her hand, causing the blades to pop out, but Anita had purposely grabbed the bottom of the glove. The mystic felt a rush of cold as her hand became bare for the first time in months, her eyes still pleading with her sister. “Anita, No.”

The words had no sooner left her lips than Anita slipped the glove upon her own arm and plunged the blades into Kyla’s gut. As the steel pierced her flesh it felt as though her insides were exploding, it was the most intense pain she had ever experienced. Kyla stared into the blue eyes of her sister, “How could you.”

And then everything went black.

[Death's Apprentice]

A fly on the wall, that was Lynura Du'galle. Letting the girl go was easy enough, and following her easier still. The supposed Ixian General led her right to Sei and the conversation that ensued gave her an idea that all was not right in the Ixian Household. She listened intently for something, anything to make sense and found nothing forthwith. With a sigh of disgust she moved through the area striving to find Victor before giving up on the mercenary.

As quickly as possible she ran, moving through the tunnels and working to escape from Ixian Castle and get back into Radasanth proper. She could only assume that her erstwhile partner had found his own escape route and moved with the determination of one who at least had something to go off of. Her movements had her pass by many things, including one very incriminating thing. Stopping she stepped forward to see a shattered tombstone in the tunnels and kneeling revealed the name upon it.

Cassandra Remi.

Quickly she looked around and finding a torched she smothered it in dust as she grabbed a sheet of paper scrubbing it against the tombstone. Her work was frantic, but in the light of another torch she saw the rubbing had indeed captured the necessary evidence. Sei apparently had a lot to answer for if the Moonlit Mistress had in fact been buried in the tunnels leading to Ixian Castle. A joyous bounce in her step she continued to run through the tunnels, the sounds of her excited and winded breath escaping her lips as she moved into the cool caress of the night's air. Her eyes looked around taking in the starlight as she smiled carefully rolling the rubbing up and placing it within her pack.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw Levi step forward a look of concern on his face as he spoke, "Lynura, did you get what you needed?"

"Better, I got something that may just kill any credibility they once had. Can you believe this?" She leapt forward and hugged the Coronian thief who was shocked by the rather warm welcome. Lynura hadn't even given him the time of day and here she was throwing her rather beautiful body up against his in perhaps the most intimate act he would ever get from the girl.

"That's good, the thief's guild is working on some of that information as well. They're sending out feelers for Dirks, seeing if his resources have been seen in contact with the Ixian Knights. Give them a couple of days and we'll know if he's working with them in some capacity. Though I have to warn ya Lyn..." The thief scratched behind his head as he carefully peeled away from the woman. It was obvious his face was flushed by the sudden contact, but was afraid to capitalize on it.

Good, he is after all common born, Lynura thought. She instead gave him a wry smile and asked, "Oh?"

"It could be possible Dirks is making a move on the Ixian Knights. I mean an organization that big, he might just be spying..."

Lynura nodded before she said firmly, "It is quite alright, if Victor survived he can corroborate the fact Dirks is at least knwon to Sei. Whether he's a willing ally or one of the criminals he's trying to reform, it won't matter. With the Illicit Entrepreneur, the Lavinian Demon, and undeniable proof that a notorious serial killer are, or at least were, on his roster we have all we need to take him out politically."

I have you now Hero of Radasanth...

[Silence Sei]

When Anita withdrew the claw from the sternum of her sister, Kyla’s body slumped against Sei’s arms. Time seemed to slow down; what took seconds in reality seemed like hours as Anita removed the glove and let it fall to the ground. Emma and Ella’s screams were heard at what seemed like a distance to the mute. He kneeled down, lowering Kyla’s body gently, as if there were still hope for her.

He had seen her torn apart by her own spell, arrived moments too late to rescue her from Draug, and held her against her will to stop her from her goal. Despite all of these things, nothing ached in the mute’s heart quite like watching the girl’s sister run Kyla through with her own family. Sei had torn his family apart with his war, his body fighting back the urge to regurgitate the meal he had earlier today.

Emma kept saying ‘no’, as if by denying that Kyla had been taken from them, she would come back to life. It was childish thinking made by a child. Emma held the girl’s hand and felt her pulse as it slowed to a stop. She was the bravest of the three, attempting to fight back her tears between sobs.

Ella was not so resistant with her feeling, streams of water pouring forth from her eyes and she wept for her sister. She kept asking ‘why’, though to who, Sei was uncertain. Was it to him, the father that could have stopped it, to the sister that murdered her, or to the Gods that may not exist in her eyes anymore? Her hands were trembling, covering her mouth to try and stop the quick breaths she took between sniffles.

Anita remained silent, her hands in her lap, her eyes unable to look at the body of her sister. What could she say? Would Kyla even hear the answer to her question? No, she didn’t deserve to speak with Kyla anymore, not after this betrayal. She had to wonder, however, if she was upset over her betrayal of Kyla, or Kyla’s betrayal of her. Was she really so selfish as to think about herself, to make herself the victim in this situation? There was no room for words between them now, only a heavy conscience, and unrelenting guilt.

And Sei…he did the only thing he could do. The only thing one would do when losing one daughter to another one. The thing that made the most sense when one realized how futile war, fighting, enemies were. That one thing someone could do, regardless of handicap, regardless of alignment. He did the one thing that anyone would do in his situation.

He screamed.