She snapped. Rosuka seethed with such anger that she violently shook. She struggled to stand as every muscle in her body flexed, tightened, and strained against some invisible force. Still, she stood up and reached for the only weapon in sight, a nearby axe. There was nothing special about the weapon, it was a remnant of some past war. It had a simple, weathered wooden handle and a rusting, blunted double axe-head. It was built to strike through heavy armor; however, now it was intended for a different target. Though with the same purpose in mind.
A heavy growl brewed in her throat until she could not hold back her anguish and words and blood spewed from her mouth, they rained down blessed like an unholy aspergillum. The words were volleys of poisonous arrows.
“I have overcome my fears, darkspawn. I have faced the turmoil of being a stranger in my own body. I am not bound by the chains of uncertainty; I am fueled with knowledge of my own self and the reality is that I am a fucking monster."
Rosuka beat upon her left breast in blind rage, denting the already-damaged plate armor, and charged toward the Womb-Tearer. She closed the gap in two strides, nobody thought she could move so fast. It shouldn’t have been possible, she had taken so much damage.
The Womb-Tearer realized two things in that instant, the first was that Rosuka’s eyes had clouded over and were marred with red. She had finally allowed herself to give in to the rage that had boiled under the surface for so long. The color began to trickle down her cheeks and onto the floor as she soared toward him, axe leading the charge. The second thing he noticed was his overwhelming sense of fear. Something he had not felt since before he had become Anuctila the Severed Promise’s vessel.
He tried to react. Tried.
He never even got a chance to scream; skin was split, muscle was torn, ribs were splintered--his lungs were hewn by the axe-head and exposed to the biting winds of the eastern coast. His right arm flew a dozen paces before slamming into the charred, curled remains of a burnt tree, the victim of a missed fireball. The howling wind screamed in place of the Womb-Tearer as he unceremoniously slumped to the ground, released from the prison of his existence. Alone, as he had been born.
Mahnya released the furies of Uut, allowing the fire that surrounded her to die out and leaving them in darkness. Geis quickly reacted to that by illuminating the room before sitting on an overturned barrel. There he wiped away the sweat that clung to his neck and forehead, this was all too much for the aging Stotian. Furthest from them, Reinta leaned against a crumbled wall, her gauntlets long gone or destroyed and the chains snaking behind her like the past she sought to abandon. She heard the scuttling of feet and a lone whispered word beyond the wall and grimly smiled.
Though the life of the Womb-Tearer was finally ended, his body received no peace. Rosuka's axe kept biting into the corpse as she continued to hack into it. The wailing of the winds became a dirge that surrounded the survivors, accented with the crunch of bone and chipping of stone as the axe now struck the floor under the body.
*Chink*
The others still could not believe it was finally over. They expected to die and a few of them had come to terms with that, now they watched from a distance--unable and unwilling to do anything more. Reinta and Mahnya because they knew so little of Rosuka; they thought she might attack them if they interfered, and Geis because he knew exactly what she would do. They looked on, helpless and guilty by association. A small part of them understood the arguul’s anger.
After a while, the axe broke under the force of the blows but still she continued, unfazed. She began using the handle like a pestle, determined to hammer away the remains of her kill.
*Thump* *Thump* *Thump*
The handle too splintered under forceful blows as wood cannot pulverize bone as much as one might wish. Rosuka continued to bash at what remained of the body. The splintering of the wood scratched at her hands as they began to bleed. Rosuka’s face was obscured by her locks as she peered over the butchered remains of her foe. She was blind to everything but the red. She did not see how nearly all her companions had looked away. She did not see them shudder in fear. She did not notice their empathy turning into disgust. She only saw the red.
*Squick*
*Squick*
The splintered handle soon fell away to nothing and fell from her grasp. The arguul's fist clenched—and she continued to beat at the bones and remains on the ground into a thick gruel. The dull crunching of bone against the stone caused those who had looked away to flinch and cover their ears. They did not know if this would ever end. The wind howled in protest, the only sound beside an atrocity being committed. How long they stood there in evil they did not know, but eventually there was no evidence of this ever having been a body.
Geis, the only one to keep looking on, wondered if it was possible that she had lost her mind. It was the only reason for her behavior as even the most barbaric arguuls would keep enough of their senses to realize they were hurting themselves.
Finally deciding he had seen enough, Geis took a step toward Rosuka, but stopped just as suddenly when her body began to heave and it seemed that she may become sick; instead, she reared her head back and exposed red-tinged tears that began to readily fall while her lips stretched across her face in pain.
“Why! Was this all that was dreamt for him? He was a good soul and you didn’t listen. You never listen to me, you’re never there. I begged you and you promised you would protect him. I hate you, I hope you never come back. I hate you!”
Rosuka screamed at the heavens until she was breathless. She folded over and inhaled greedily, her breaths were short, quick, and labored. She suddenly collapsed to her knees and held her palms skyward. Blood and bone and flesh covered them—they had ceased to look like hands. It seemed that she was done with the Womb-Tearer, though not much remained of him except memories and those would never be erased.
Somewhere in the distance, heavy thunder rolled through the valley, the lightning illuminated places that had not seen light in years. A change was coming. The screaming wind had suddenly ceased, becoming a soft breeze that pushed Rosuka’s hair across her face. Geis looked on in shock as her hair fell from her head in clumps. The midnight-blue hair fell to the ground and shattered like a dropped porcelain plate. Rosuka made no hint of noticing and continued to look skyward, waiting for an answer she would never understand.
Mahnya slowly approached Rosuka, unsure of how close she would allow herself to get to the fearsome destroyer, but eventually she shook her head and walked up to kneel beside the arguul. She placed a gentle hand on Rosuka’s forehead, who turned her face away and attempted to clear her throat, a squelching of saliva and blood caused her to spit out the concoction. Snot clung to her upper lip and she attempted to brush it away with the back of a hand, but only succeeded in smearing blood across her mouth. Such is life, the arguul thought to herself.
Mahnya meanwhile recalled a similar situation in which her youngest sister had gotten a hold of a bowl of raspberries before their uncle’s inauguration. Mahnya wished she could smile at the memory. It had been a good one, but Atrina was dead now and it only succeeded in souring her heart.
So much death, so many undeserving of the darkness.
Mahnya looked upon the arguul and observed the countless cuts and bruises that covered her thick skin. Rosuka’s chest still rose in short, powerful bursts, but her breathing was calm. Mahnya could sense the change inside Rosuka, this was not the same individual that had first fought to protect Kristos and her; even so, Mahnya could also see the pathetic state she had left herself in. Some of these wounds would never heal right.
They dwelled in silence for a moment before Rosuka whispered so only Mahnya would hear,
“I don't hear her anymore. She has released me. I am alone.”
Mahnya made to lay a reassuring hand on Rosuka but thought better of it and shook her head,
“Brightflame, you are-“
Rosuka’s voice cracked like a whip and Mahnya flinched as Rosuka looked up at her from the ground.
“I AM ALONE. I lost this child, I lost his father and I lost my oldest friend. Three loves in such a short span, my heart is broken, I no longer wish to feel. I hurt so much more than any wound!”
Rosuka’s voice wavered at the end. She immediately felt really tired and could hear all the protests her body had made during the last few hours renew their cries at once; she was overcome with exhaustion and fell on her ass. Rosuka looked around, lost and confused as to how to proceed. Her body, her sight, her God had betrayed her.
Maybe Iao Chal had been right.
She buried her face in the remains of her hands. The others slowly and carefully made their way to Rosuka.
She was a terrifying sight, but Mahnya had unfortunately seen worse. Now was not the time to dwell on them.
“ I don't know what to do…,” the slayer admitted to nobody in particular.
Behind Mahnya, Geis’ throat began to ache as a long-buried memory pulled at his mind. He began to pet Azi on his head and hum to the wind. The song was one Azi had heard many times. Memories accompanied the song, both good and bad. Geis looked down at Azi’s wiggling nose and empathized with Rosuka, he had once felt as lost as her.
“You can say goodbye.” A squeak arose from behind them all.
Rosuka’s head snapped in Lemma’s direction with renewed vigor. Lemma’s small body was a giant in the blood-vision. Rosuka began to crawl on her bloodied hands and knees to try and get to the thief. Reinta quickly jumped up and swung the chains at Rosuka, they whipped around her arms as the Iron Lord ran in the opposite direction, hoping to pull her back. Mahnya pounced on the arguul as well, wrapping her long arms around her neck and digging her feet into the ground.
Rosuka’s breaths were once again short and ravenous, the veins on her neck were visible as she strained against her allies. It was over as quickly as it had begun. Try as she might, she could not get through them and for the first time in a long time, the berserker who had slain a Colossi bare-handed, gave up. She stopped trying and fell to the floor, Mahnya falling on top of her. Still, she glared at Lemma.
“Do not test me, plague. I will kill you for abandoning us, you piece of shit. You don’t deserve your children, it would do better for them to grow up without you.”
Rosuka’s reply was charged with as much disdain as she had mustered for the Womb-Tearer, but it lacked bite, laden with the kind of tiredness that comes from a broken heart asked to work again so soon.
Lemma showed no sign of her fear, an altogether impressive feat, and could only sigh in annoyance and admission,
“Yeh, you’re right and they know this, but Kristos…”
“No! Say his name again, I dare you.”
“... He knew that I wasn’t the bravest. It's not like he had options. If that had been the case none of us would be here. Look, I ain't ashamed of what I am and I don’t plan to change. I just want to do this for him.”
“I've lost my sight, the red is all I see,” murmured Rosuka, her face turned away to be illuminated by a growing blue light that was breaking through the darkness of the sky. The second moon of Iloveth, Iknaron, had finally broken through. The land of Gostalo was alit for the first time in a long time.
Geis glazily stared up at the sky as well before he shook himself from his stupor and began to recite a lesson of old,
“A berserker who fully commits is sometimes known to contract blood-blindness or blood-vision. The blood overwhelms them. Whatever you wish to show her will not be seen. She only sees pain.”
“Uut could cure-,” Mahnya began to whisper in Rosuka’s ear before she was cut off again.
“No, no gods! I will not crawl so low again. I must head eastward still. I can smell the coast. I will walk into the sea until I cease to float.”
Mahnya was not used to being interrupted, and being cut off by a groveling berserker was a shock the first time, but now she had reached her limit. Mahnya pushed the arguul into the floor and stood to her full height, easily overshadowing the arguul. She rolled Rosuka over with a push of her foot so that she was on her back, and placed her boot on the arguul’s chest then looked down at her with her piercing yellow eyes.
“No. You will not head south, because your job is not done. Your life is not done…”
Mahnya turned around and addressed the other three. She stepped off of Rosuka and quickly surveyed the land. It was strange, probably devoid of life and not one to grow a kingdom. She turned her mind to the matter at hand as it required her full attention, she was not used to speaking to such a small and uninspired crowd and was forced to change her demeanor. The pride and the fury were gone, instead, she looked solemnly at them and lowered her voice.
“...I realize that you have all traveled far and been through so much, but… I need you. All of you. Rosuka. Geis. Reinta. Lemma. For a little while longer. Kristos is dead and that means there is nobody to avenge Old Killasser and its people. I’m a Lantern Knight of Uut, but I was also a good friend of Kristos. I must right the wrongs I witness. You say that he was poisoned? Well, I have learned that the Womb-Tearer was corrupted. I cannot let these injustices go unanswered, but I cannot do it alone right now. Kristos accepted you into his company because he did not have any other options. I want you in my company because you have all proven yourselves to be better than what one could hope for.”
Iknaron now drowned the valley with her blue light. The rocky terrain of Gostalo created many shadows and things that did not want to be seen had many options to still continue to hide, but on this hill, atop of this watchtower, truth was traded freely and openly.
Lemma was the first to speak.
“No. I’ve got better things to do than to fight another lost cause. My offer stands, berserker. If you should ever see again…”
Her tail cracked behind her, opening a ripple in the air and she stepped back into it. They would never see her again.
Geis merely nodded. The old Stotian had nowhere else to go and he had a promise to keep.
Reinta stepped forward and looked up at Mahnya. She was beautiful; the long thin horns that accented the sides of her head made her appear regal, while the roaring burgundy curls cradled the angular face like magma spewed from a volcano. Then she got to her eyes. Damn those bright, yellow eyes. Reinta was nearly enthralled, but the eyes contained a brutalness that would have to be watched. It was a cold brutality, the opposite of Rosuka’s. Reinta wondered if it was the best thing for these two to be paired.
“Kristos was a good meir. It would have been interesting to see him grow in these trying times. It’ll be interesting how I grow in these trying times. I will help bring justice to Kristos. I do not have the stomach for vengeance.”
Reinta bowed and turned to look at Rosuka, she watched the arguul with deep interest.
Rosuka did not stir from her position on the floor; instead, she stared off into the horizon, toward the unseen coast. She might’ve been blind but she could see her companions clearly and that made her hate them. She did not want to be around those like her. She did not wish to be reminded. She slowly stood up, legs still buckling beneath her, and made her way to the ghastrobak that she had first killed by the stairs. Her cleaver was buried in its sternum. She looked down at her hands and chuckled. Rosuka could not close her hands. She could not retrieve her favorite weapon.
Another loss.
Mahnya stepped up behind her and clasped her hands together. She inhaled deeply to feed the flame inside her, she felt it stir and fed it all the anger, guilt, and pain she felt. The flame gladly consumed it all. A roaring flame consumed Mahnya’s head and ran up the side of her head with her horns. Her yellow eyes shined through the flame and she reached out to touch each of her allies shoulders.
Her companions were instantly warmed, they felt the weariness of the long journey dissipate and saw small scars fade and wounds stitch themselves closed. They were captivated by the power and ease by which she had done that for them.
She saved Rosuka for last and hugged her tightly and whispered in the arguul’s ear.
“You will die when I let you, Rosuka. Don’t expect that to be anytime soon. Let us go, Brightflame.”
The arguul felt the smallest bones in her hands snap and meld back together, skin that had been pierced and flesh that had been torn also healed up. She couldn’t make a strong fist but, as she discovered when she picked up the cleaver, it was enough. She looked at ubslopen’s edge. The blessing runes were gone, it was merely a cleaver. Rosuka smiled.
A new name is needed for such a plain weapon. Akkisl. The Great Shame.
Rosuka faintly smiled and sheathed her weapon before turning to look at the others. Geis nodded at her as he released Azi into the air to scout ahead. Reinta greeted her gaze with a jovial smile. Mahnya had already begun to head back north, to the gates of the Screaming Tower. The rest followed, unaware that they had traded a doomed leader for a damned one.
