The Lion of the North and the Warrior of the East
They had no chance of winning and she knew it from the beginning.
What was the Organization’s idea? Sending her, the number 8, together with the 22, the 27 and the 34 to hunt something like that…something so powerful… was utterly suicide.
That male Awakened Being was simply untouchable.
He moved faster than her Phantoms, his claws were deadlier than her claymore and he had broke through their formation every time. Not only was he strong and fast, the son of a bitch had to be intelligent too.
The number 27 slashed at him pointlessly. Fingernails were stretched, flesh was pierced and blood was spilled. She moved no more.
One!
“You bastard!” cried the number 22. Her luxurious long hair flapped beautifully when she leaped into the sky, her sword aiming for the beast’s head. Sadly, the Lion seemed immune to that beauty, he accompanied her in the air and the woman could only look helpless at him before his right claw tasted blood again. A legless body fell in the ground.
Two!
The Phantom’s eyes were resolute and yet fearful. Her gaze travelled from her surviving comrade to the monstrous humanoid lion that stood in front of them. His claws soaked in the blood of the other two silver eyed women.
A lion…that could mean only one thing.
Their foe was none other than the lieutenant of the Silver King Isley; the warrior whose name had been feared ever since the first war between her Organization and the Awakened Beings. The former number 2, the Silver Eyed Lion King Rigardo was their opponent.
That was bad!
The number 8 and the number 34, standing proudly (or not so proudly because the number 34 had just peed on her pants) against the former number 2…it seemed like a joke. A bad one for that matter.
Was it all a mistake? Didn’t the Organization know about who their enemy was? Or it was an intricate plot to murder her? After all, Rubel didn’t seem trustworthy…
However, the Phantom didn’t have the time to consider those possibilities. She had to focus on the problem at hands and that was the fingernails that the prince sent against her. The Phantom was stabbed by those Awakened nails but no blood was shed.
“I see.” spoke the Lion for the first time. His voice sounded surprisingly human “Fitting movement for a commander.”
The Phantom swung her claymore against him, he blocked it. Metallic sound filled the air as claws clashed against steel. The Phantom didn’t gain her name by chance but then again…neither did the Lion.
He parried a strike that came for his head and felt a sudden pain on his left leg.
The number 34 had decided to enter the battle?
And she had dared to wound him?
Bad move.
“No!” cried the Phantom.
The purity of the white snow was tainted by red blood.
Three!
The poor Claymore never truly understood what had wounded her. She just felt pain and saw the Lion retracting his bloody claws.
And then there was only darkness.
The Lion slowly turned to the Phantom “And then, there was one.”
* *
Night fell in the North and the habitants of the town of Sonja slowly exited their houses. Their destination was “The Pirate”, one of the only bars in the frozen plains of the North. The sign on the door shows a feminine figure, a good indication that in that bar, one could buy not only food and drink but also entertainment and even a company for the night.
“Everything has its price, it seems. Even the human honour.”
Those where the thoughts that filled Rigardo’s mind when he entered in the bar. It was noisy like any other bar, the men that filled the place where not being exactly polite nor did they tried to. The North was probably the harshest place of the Continent and those were men whose lives had been anything but easy. Having to toil from sun to sun, constantly suffering from the cold and the wind and with the always-present threat of hidden Yoma…Rigardo would always be astonished by how weak humans could endure so much.
Those hours at the bar were the only time that they had to enjoy themselves and the men did their best to make each night a memorable event.
“Even so, they could be a little more restrained.”
He ignored all of the stares that his unusual outfit was providing him with and purposely avoided to look to where a group of ten or so men were betting on dogfights (it would make him hungry). His silver eyes travelled along the large room until he found them.
Hunkering down on a table there was a young man and an even younger woman.
The man was Rigardo’s monarch and his reason for being at that bar; the woman was the only woman that the Lion King could never lay a hand on, his King’s concubine.
The monarch had long silver hair and was wearing a blue cloak that, among those poor dressed men, could really make him look like royalty. The concubine was a brunette with short hair; she also used a cloak, a pink one. She was clasping the hand of her liege and seemed to only have eyes for him.
Those were Rigardo’s masters and they were the most powerful beings in the world.
“What took you so long?” Isley asked, his right hand resting on Priscilla’s while his left hand raised a bottle of wine to his lips. Rigardo signalled an barmaid to bring him something to drink “We have been waiting, Rigardo.”
He grabbed a chair, allowing himself a moment to rest. His silver eyes closed for the first time in four days “I was hunted by a group of warriors. Their leader was quite intelligent, I tried to loose them but in the end I had to fight.”
If Priscilla had heard him, then she gave no signs of it. “The Organization needs a new single digit…” said Isley. His tone indicated that it was a question. A barmaid appeared and gave Rigardo a bottle with beer. It tasted bad, even for his unrefined taste. The barmaid would certainly be a much tasteful meal…
“I couldn’t kill them.” Rigardo tried to control his Awakened instincts.
Isley unintentionally raised his eyebrows “The Lion King couldn’t finish off a prey? The world is certainly changing.”
“Please, do not address me for that name.”
He saw a smile appearing on his King’s lips “That was a long time ago and you still haven’t forgotten it.”
Silence was established amongst them and Isley used it to finish his own drink. Wine served only to give some flavour his mouth, the aftertaste that it left was bittersweet and it disappeared with such an ease. It was not the first time that Isley lamented his inability to get drunk, one of the things that Awakening had stolen from him.
It didn’t matter tough, before that night was over, he and Priscilla would drink another kind of red liquid, a much sweeter one.
“What do you think about love, Isley?” Rigardo suddenly asked.
The King was taken by surprise; he caressed Priscilla’s hair before answering.
“A futility at the best and an impossibility at the worst. Something I’ve never truly experienced nor do I desire to.”
“Why do you want to know? Have you fallen in love for one of the Claymores that attacked you?”
“Sort of…” he said, drinking the beer again.
“Just take her to your bed. It’s just another one.”
“No…this time is different…”
Isley sighed; he looked at his brother in arms like an adult would look to an ingenuous child “Have you forgotten what I told you, Rigardo? If they are Awakened Beings, then they are servants. If they are Yoma, then they are slaves.” Isley’s voice turned to a whisper “If they are humans, then they are food and if they are Claymore, then they are enemies.”
Rigardo shook his head, looking down “I know that!”
“Also, never do anything for woman that she wouldn’t do it for you.”
The Lion’s eyes narrowed, he looked angrily at Isley “And that comes from the man that will challenge the Empress of the South for the sake of a woman!” Rigardo signalled the cuddled Priscilla.
He felt the King’s gaze stabbing at him. Yoki was instinctively raised. Some people at the bar felt suddenly sick. Rigardo feared that maybe her had gone too far this time but it didn’t took long for Isley’s expression to change to a calm one. He stood up with Priscilla by his side.
“Whatever, you can take care of yourself. But believe me, there is no love on this Continent.” he said, placing a hand on Rigardo’s shoulder “Just remember; you can sing about love, you can write poetry about love but in the end, it all comes down to you penetrating her.”
“Also, what I do with Priscilla and for Priscilla in none of your business.”
Isley slapped him friendly across the face and left, oblivious to the luxurious look that Priscilla was receiving.
Rigardo didn’t watch them leave as he was deeply lost on his thoughts.
He also didn’t consider love as something that should be raised to the level of poetry or fantasized about, but the raw logic of Isley also didn’t please him. Certainly, in love, real love, there was more than simply some genitalia action.
However, Isley could be right.
Could there be love on that Continent?
Could there be love on a land where Yoma disguised as fathers and mothers preyed on little children and those who were unlucky enough to survive would have their flesh mixed with those same Yoma?
And could he, an archdemon who delighted himself with the taste of human flesh, feel any kind of love at all?
Rigardo didn’t had the answers to these questions so he simply raised the bottle to his lips again before making an signal to the joyful girls who wandered around the bar, ready to satisfy the needs of its clients.