When the last of the darkness faded Xerebus commented, “There, now that should do it.”
“Do what?” He jerked himself around towards the sound of my voice.
“You don’t know how to stay dead, do you?” Killing me again, I rematerialized once more behind him.
“‘Knock, knock!’” Irritated and wide-eyed, Xerebus looked at me while I continued, “‘Who’s there?’” He repeated the process again a lot more quickly than before, only to find the same results. When he glanced at me again, I finished off the line with an innocent grin on my face. “‘Who’s there, in th’ other devil’s name?’”
“When did you learn how to use illusions of this magnitude?!” Xerebus snarled at me.
“‘Illusions?’” I playfully giggled before continuing. “Is that what you think this is?”
“Don’t play dumb with me! How are you doing this? Out with it!”
“‘Out, damn’d spot! Out I say!’” Frustrated with my refusal to give him a direct answer he proceeded to hack through me, only serving to fuel his own rage at being unable to get rid of me. I was already laughing hard for making that comment that I alone found humorous, but seeing Xerebus’ growing helplessness—which, by the way, was only something that I’ve only dreamed of—made that laugh grow more and more psychotic with each useless slash.
After a long time had passed Xerebus finally grew tired and fell to his knees. This move proved to be a terrible choice on his part for the wound I had inflicted on his left thigh earlier caused him so much pain that he ended up embracing the whole floor with a loud groan.
“My, my, Xerebus…how the tables have turned.”
“What manner of technique is this?”
“Well—” Xerebus cut me off by expelling some of his power at me. Even in his weakened state his power proved formidable, and his efforts did manage to wound me a little, but otherwise his efforts were in vain. Cursing at his failed attempt to subdue me, Xerebus flopped over on his back and began to pant from exhaustion.
“Heh-heh-heh…just because I could get away with doing that doesn’t mean you can. Especially…since the veil between the seen and unseen has lifted.” Now that the preliminaries are done, let the games begin…
“You said something about that earlier…just what do you mean by that?”
My eyes narrowed as I answered him, “Do you really want to know? Well…I have no desire to tell you everything, but I see no qualms with giving you a brief on what’s to come:
“Everything you despise…everything you fear…will come at you in an endless parade of torment. Provided that you take your just desserts without quarrel you will be released from this divine comedy in the time it takes a soul to pass into the next world. If not, well…I guess that just means the revelry of Samhain will be prolonged. Have fun, Xerebus.”
With that, I left Xerebus where he lay to suffer alone. Just when I was in the process of forming a portal to return to Castle Oblivion, Verex came into the scene.
“Xerebus gave me a message a few moments ago to return to his side…” He turned to look at his fallen master, who at this time was shrouded in a mist of magic constructed by his own power and was screaming at some invisible terror, before continuing the conversation. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like this.” His eyes told me that he was more pleased with this sight than he was mortified.
“Heh…If you want to talk a little treason, you do realize that’s more than perfectly acceptable with me, right?”
Verex laughed at this. “You know very well why I can’t do that, Xakiah.”
“Oh? Sounds a little odd…coming from someone who’s still wearing ‘Ode de Secret Lover’ on him.”
“Xakiah,” he blushed, “that was low, even for—never mind.”
Changing the topic, Verex continued, “Anyway, would you like to know how Etxel’s doing?”
I thought about this for a while before giving him my reply. “No…for now…it’s better that we know as little of each other as possible.”
“Then would you like to leave him a message?”
“No—well, yes, actually.” I said changing my mind. “Tell him…that the Performer of Withershins has returned.”
Verex shot his head straight up. “‘Withershins?’ That’s a rather old word.”
“Do you know what it means?”
“No, but I do know that it’s of Teutonic origin.” he said in a way that reminded me of a textbook.
“Well…I myself am rather impressed that you know that much.”
“Are you willing to share what that word means with me?”
“No. But, if you’re still curious, I believe Etxel will be more than happy to share that bit of knowledge with you.” Etxel has always been a social type, and talking about his old home will do more than to cheer him up after he awakens.
“Very well, but I have one final question before you go.”
Carefully shifting my full continence to face him, I said, “Make it quick.”
“Just exactly how long do I have a chance to take a vacation before Xerebus returns too?”
My smile grew wide. “Three weeks.”
~*~
Alright, now that I’m back at Castle Oblivion, let’s do a damage report: five broken ribs, one of which is pinching my left lung; a pulled muscle in the right shoulder; a second degree burn on my right arm; a third degree burn on my chest, complete with a morbid-looking hole that is slowing oozing out a mixture of blood and puss; a cracked collarbone; a nervous system that’s still screaming bloody murder from the negative energy serge; and, to really top it all off, one incredibly annoying migraine. Analysis: Somehow, the phrase “I got the crap beaten out of me”…just doesn’t quite do it justice.
Quite so, Xakiah.
Morgan le Fay, I groaned, go away, I’m not in the mood.
You don’t need to state the obvious with me, you know.
Oh? Were you watching me this whole time?
Of course I was, silly girl. Honestly, Xakiah, have you ever known me to deny myself the opportunity to witness violent entertainment? she asked facetiously.
Chuckling, I retorted, No…it would be a blemish on your character if you did. Changing my tone, I asked, But really, Morgan, what is your business with me? Haven’t I already given you my word that I would take care of your mess at Castle Wyvern?
Yes, well…after watching your latest battle, I can’t help but question if whether or not you can actually do that anymore.
I found this ignorant comment rather typical of her. My dear Morgan le Fay, have your years of meddling in the affairs of Camelot taught you nothing on how to determine a warrior’s prowess in combat?
You nasty child, you make me sound so old…
That’s because you are, but that’s beside the point; do you know how to accurately rate a warrior in terms of strength? I asked again more callously.
She huffed before snobbishly answering, No, because I’ve never cared for the affairs of savages.
I had to force myself back from laughing at the irony her words, especially considering who I was hearing this from. Then you have no right to speak on the results of my battle with Xerebus.
Very well, but that still doesn’t answer the issue on whether or not you can accomplish you mission.
Yes…I’ll still do your dirty work, you rotten Cailleach. But before I do that, allow me some time to recover my health and to sharpen my skills.
Jolly good, but how long is this venture going to take?
I casually told her that this endeavor would take three weeks time.
Three weeks? You do realize how suspicious that figure is, don’t you?
Ah…yes, I do.
Then why do you desire that amount of time?
There’s been a technique that I’ve been working on lately that requires a good amount of time for testing purposes. …Okay?
Is it the Samhain spell that you acquired from Merlin?
No—it’s a different one that’s been in development for the past few months.
There was a slight pause before she reentered the conversation. Very well, I’ll surrender to your request to improve. My only condition is that you don’t disappoint me, understood?
Yes; now would you be so kind as to leave? I grow weary of your voice.
The feeling is mutual, my little Marfóir. Good day.
Only after confirming that she had finally broken the call did I sigh both with relief and frustration; relief for finally being liberated from her, frustration for knowing that I’d have to clear my request with the ringleader of the Organization before he suspected me being a traitor. Heaven forbid should I be talking treason behind his back. Besides…in the case of him and Xerebus both, it’s much more fun to do that when they’re right in front of you, I smirked. Prior to anything else that was to transpire, though, I knew that healing had to be at the top of my list of priorities. Procedure dictated that I report to the infirmary for examination, but I didn’t feel like answering a slew of questions pertaining as to how I ended up in that condition in the first place. Taking matters into my own hands, I limped my way to the Altar of Naught to have a clear view of the heart-shaped moon that never left this God-forsaken world’s sky to prepare myself for my next big spell of the day. Avoiding the few members that noticed my poor physical status, I found myself at the Altar of Naught completely void of any other presence other than my own. This suited me just fine because, at that point in time, I would’ve killed anyone who would’ve tried to form an audience.
Gathering my power and ignoring my pain, I implanted my feet to where I stood, extended my arms, and began the ritual with a clear, resonating voice:
“Oh mighty Trinity of heaven,
whose balance governs us all,
pay heed to the prayer of your servant
though unworthy is their call.
Flow through this vassal of flesh,
purify all that which does not belong.
In recompense for your mercy
I provide thee with gracious song.”
With that, I began the Song of Healing—a laud that would last of total of three minutes. During the process the rings adorning my right hand began to glow with a brilliant display of a white and azure light. Soothed by the magic softly swirling around me and completely enraptured by my music making, I lost myself in the moment and broke out into a dance, causing the spell to give off a more flamboyant display than before. All of this began to die down by the last three measures of the song, and when this ritual had finally ceased I bowed my head, said a quick prayer of thanksgiving for being completely rejuvenated, and made the sign of the cross.
Not long after I turned around to search for the leader did a portal open up in front of me, revealing the very fiend I wanted to see clapping his hands. “Excellent performance, if I do say so myself. Would you care to explain to me why you were hiding such a talent?”
Unfortunately, I couldn’t stop myself from blushing at being caught in the act, which only served to amuse him even more. “Now, now…the only type of assassin that goes around proclaiming all that they are capable of the dead ones. Didn’t you know that?”
Smiling sarcastically he responded, “Well, considering that they’re dead, most likely not.” Towards the end of his sentence I felt his influence probing my thoughts. The last time he did this caught me off guard, so to make certain that he’d have a tougher time going about it I switched my private words into speaking the language of my birth. This strategy proved effective because the moment I started doing that he inquired, “What kind of a language is that?”
“A very old language—one whose identity I will not betray to you.” I don’t claim to know what he felt about that, but my best guess was that he wasn’t too happy about being unable to translate what I was thinking.
Changing the direction of the talk, I said, “In any event, you came at the right time.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. With your permission, I request to go on a training mission to the Betwixt and Between that will last about three weeks.”
Very cautiously he asked, “You haven’t been with us very long and you’re already asking to leave? How do I know that you’ll return?”
Matter-of-factly I told him, “Simple: this Organization holds something I want that can’t be stolen, nor delivered by traitors. If I were to just leave…then how can I possibly manipulate you into giving me what I desire?”
“Hah! I admire you for your honesty.” Taking my request into consideration, he allotted a little time to pass before saying, “Very well, I’ll let you go. Report back to me immediately after three weeks are up. Any delay and I’ll send you to your grave. Do we have an understanding?”
“Naturally.” The rebel in me wanted to defy him, but I decided to suppress such feelings for another time and proceed with my ambition.
~Xakiah
_______________________________________________________________________________
Xakiah: If I recall…didn’t you promise sometime back that you’d shorten up these posts? TT__TT?
Me: Umm…maybe? ^_^; Hey, wait a minute! Are you being short with me because I revealed your softer, artistic side today? TTwTT
Xakiah: (*draws ninjatô*) TT__TT…
Me: (Me and my big mouth…) ^_^;…
Non-English Words of Day:
Kage no Kokoro: (Japanese) “Heart of Shadows” or “Shadow Heart”
Samhain: (Celtic—more specifically, Irish…maybe) an event that supposedly involved the world of the fairies and other creatures of Celtic lore to arrive in our world due to a collapse of the barrier separating the two
Withershins: (Teutonic—in other words the language loosely shared by the Angles, the Saxons, and the Jutes) a ritual that involved walking counter-clockwise to bring bad luck (also known as “Tuathbel” in Irish Gaelic)
Cailleach: (Irish Gaelic) Witch
Marfóir: (Irish Gaelic) Killer
Other things to Note:
Some of the quotes I have her say come from Shakespeare’s Macbeth. The references to religion are based off of Celtic Spirituality of the Christian church, not the pagan one that seems to be overly-glorified on the internet. On that same note, I do NOT claim to be an expert with regards to such and highly advice the reader—to avoid religious illiteracy—to look it up on reliable sites. (Sorry folks, due to how broad the term “Celtic” is Wikipedia ain’t gonna help you here. TTwTT ) If anyone does have any questions though, I’ll be more than happy to try and explain what I can.
Have a nice day! ^_^
