Claymore Fanfiction Discussion

[Bikerider]

No plans right now to make a collected post with my snapshots. thx

[Blue Pentacle]

Hi there,


I am glad and very contented to bring some nice news. I would like to thank all those who read, reviewed and offered much helpful support in the past months during the thick, and thin, times . As always, your help has been of great value to me and is appreciated deeply .


Now, I am very pleased to offer the second part of chapter five of "Strange Consorts" for the forum.

Spoiler for Strange Consorts Chp. 5 (Part 2):

Claymore



Strange Consorts


Chapter 5



(Part 2)



The scene seemed to have adopted a strange, desolate serenity. The clearing a still battlefield of tree stumps, craters, fallen trees and other debris from the fierce combat of only a short time ago. The great demonic creature, the image of some great and terrible feline, still as it peered down at the small, human shape that returned its golden gaze.


The human below stood still; a effort as a hollow, icy quality seemed to seep into his limbs, and a heavy lump growing in his stomach. Even then, his head remained aloft; face like stone and eyes wide as he stared. The pain and force of revelation playing like a storm in his mind. Above the two, the moon still lingered; casting its indifferent brilliance across the world below as the night passed by.


There was silence still.


It came slowly then, after great and pained deliberation, that the jaws of the creature parted; twin veils of fangs which opened upon darkness, and from that void a voice came; tinged by instinct, great but coarsely feminine. And, shockingly, somewhat familiar. Like a slight wind, its word swept down upon the boy.


“So...it seems...that the masks have all fallen away...haven’t they?...”


Its radiant eyes seemed to narrow, as if in scrutiny, yet the boy stared on. It was after this that, with a dry, fragile voice, the human spoke. Its words frail, but clear.


“P...eh...hu...p...Please...please...you....you’re not...it’s...please don’t...please, do not be this way...”


High above, the monstrous visage did not move. Only it’s eyes shifting as its breath rumbled in human ears. Below, the boy spoke again.


“Y...you...are one of them...but...but no...you can go...go back...yes? You...don’t have to be a demon...you can be Luciela again... “


The Abyssal watched, then spoke.


“Child...Raki...I am, as I am. It is my nature...and has been for many an age...you know this...”


The human stood, but his mind laboured while his body was increasingly afflicted. His limbs were cold, and the lump inside had turned to a fiery sickness in his belly. His heart thudded in his chest and his face was hot. Tears creeping down as he still looked up into the face before him.


“Ah...n...no...you...don’t have to...I...you...can be her...again...and we can forget...and talk about herbs, and fish...and....s...stars in the sky...please...” His voice was increasingly broken and hoarse; his face crumpling, his eyes like deep marble as tears dropped from his cheeks.


The Abyssal of the South looked on; a knot of deep pain stabbing inside that great chest as a ill fortune was born out; terrible, and painful...but inevitable, it seemed.


“This...this is my truth...Raki...it cannot be changed...this is me...my soul...what has always been...”


Her words impacting, the boy swallowed in his misery. But, within, the forces of affliction were gaining. The moon seemed brighter, the pain inside was growing and a sweat had broken out; a buzzing growing in his ears while his heart was galloping. Inside his thoughts, there was clamouring; her face, her form, her touch, her voice and presence like a torrent in his memories which broke upon this awful truth above him. The world seemed too much...just too much pain, and loss and hurt for him. Still looking up, he wavered, his vision growing hazy. He stepped back, trying to say something, then stumbled and fell. Collapsing into stillness as he fainted.


The Abyssal watched this, eyes narrowing intensely, before she seemed to bow her head; some inner exertion growing as an aura grew about her, increasingly brilliant as wind tossed about and debris scattered. At last the brilliance was absolute as her shape seemed to diminish and with a last surge, it vanished.


Where the great monster had once stood, a woman now was; standing, but weak. Opening her eyes, she went forward; herself drained and empty as she went to the fallen boy. Drawing near, she went on her hands and knees, crawling to him with still eyes. Next to him now, she sat back on her heels; her flesh damp with sweat, her hands weak as she peered down. Reaching to him, she lingered for a moment before drawing back; head drooping as her long, red hair spilled forward. Pained blue eyes peered into nothing, before she spoke.


“I...am...I am so, so sorry, Raki. I am so very sorry for this...for all that has come unto you...I am sorry for all of it...”


There was silence for a moment before she took a long shuddering breath and raised her head back to the night; drawing deep from the night air before opening her eyes again. At first she stared into the arc of black sky above, before glancing at the moon then to the stars; still twinkling innocently at the stained world below. With a small, rasping groan she inclined her head stiffly and sighed deeply. Finally looking down upon the boy, she let reason purge habit and doubt. Gently, she reached under and lifted him in her arms. Standing, she peered at his silent, tear stained face. Content with the soft constancy of his breath, she started forward at a strong pace; her thoughts focused and clear.


The child’s trials were over. She could not redeem his past, she could not promise his future, but for the present, his trials were ended. Over, and finished. He had struggled long and hard, and now it was ended. And the gods help any living creature who should think otherwise...

___________


At once wrapping him in the remains of her dress, she quickly and eagerly fed her starving body. Devouring the dead bandits and the remains of Dal; human and awakened, red and purple flesh restoring her power with each piece. She could not help by take pleasure as it was done; after so long, after so little, at last she could eat and let her power grow again. Having gorged herself, and feeling better with each passing moment, she rejoiced as her power began to blossom again. But, her thoughts were other places. With speed, she washed in the stream where she and Raki had dwelt near, before searching through the bandits takings.


Her search delivering a overturned cart, the horse having long fled during the fight with the bandits, she took both clothes and other things which caught her eye. Returning to the campsite, she found Raki still then hurriedly packed away his belongings. At last ready and prepared, she gave the boy a soft smile before holding him firmly in her arms. Then with a burst of yoki, she was soaring above the trees and land; the air streaming past as the night bled, her new cloak like wings as it spread on the air. Yet all was not, compared to the precious humanity cradled in her arms.


It was not long before the lights of Salz opened on the horizon; the Abyssal seemingly materialising upon the highest of the town’s west gates, crushing ancient stone beneath her feet as she did. Eyes scouring the dim streets as she danced and swept across the rooftops, she soon found what was so powerfully needed. The innkeeper rising with a start from his drowsy perch behind a desk, the door swung back as a strange figure surged in from the night.


Momentarily caught by the odd spectacle of a tall cloaked woman, bearing a child wrapped in red appearing suddenly in his lobby, piercing eyes turned to him with chilling power. Moments later, arrangements were made, money exchanged hands and the woman was given a spacious room on the top floor. The man thinking that perhaps it was not the hour or good sense to ask too many questions of a person with such a urgent purpose...and a sword slung on their back.

___________


More activity followed in those hours of the yet to be born morning. Luciela, once secure in her lodgings, took to bathe the still silent child. Stripping away his old, stained clothes to reveal a lean but enduring shape beneath, she soon scooped him up and gently lowered him into a waiting bath; the warm water sloshing as his form sunk while the red headed woman sat to clean him. Her task a silent one, as eyes shifted between the cloth in her hands and his still face. Her concern growing, a much cleaner Raki was lifted, dried then put to bed. Luciela at last taking some satisfaction as the white sheets covered him and a thick pillow bore his head.


Unfortunately, any feeling of deliverance for the child was short lived, as the hours passed and he did not wake the next morning.


Or the next day.


For she had found a fever in him, and it was strong...

___________


That day, the Abyssal of the South lingered by his bedside; her watch compounded as her supernatural senses were specially attuned to his precarious state, his breath and heart foremost in her ears, as the boy’s diminished body struggled against his affliction. The room was held in a steady twilight, window veiled by a thick curtain, while she had taken up in a large chair beside the bed; still, silent while her thoughts plunged in worry and anxiety. She would often keep his hot brow cool with a damp cloth or wiping his mouth after a fit of coughing. All through this, she vexed; arriving again and again at the same conclusion as to what had caused this predicament.


In truth, it was so many things. His young body worn down by weeks of travel, with little sustenance, exposed to the elements; and of course struggling with the anguish and pain that lingered in his past.


Though...the terror and revelation that she had brought upon him had not helped either, seemingly the last thing which had finally broken him...no...no...not broken, not yet...he could survive this...he would survive this.


This knot of so many feelings within, Luciela was not beyond sensing the weight of her actions; realising that she of just so recently, even a few days ago, would not condescend to this...to deliver a child to safety...to scrub the sweat and dirt from his body...to nurse him in the grip of illness...surely, these had not been the marks of Luciela in the past. But, most dramatically of all, it did not matter now; for she was not the same person...not the same creature. Yes, she remained the one and only Luciela of the South...but what that meant was now so far removed from who she had been...


She sighed, turning blue eyes to the still figure on the bed; reaching forth slender fingers to rest on his brow. Such things could be wrestled with later, for the child’s recovery was first to her...

___________


The night that came was the worst she had known for decades. It was during that time that the boy’s fever intensified and his life grew dimmer; the colour and strength that had once seemed so vital now sliding away in the flickering candle light. Luciela was racked by frustration and her simple impotence; for all her power, for all her restored strength, for all her great stature in the world...she could not breath life back into his failing breast. A creature of the abyss rendered powerless. But she fought these feelings, denied them and clung to her efforts.


As the night drew on and his fever seemed to reach its pinnacle, her thoughts excluded all else. The war, Isley, her retribution, the Organisation, all the lands of the Mucha...these things seemed far off...and her world shrank to that room; herself and Raki, and the disease which tortured him...and her.


Later still, pained and feeling the first pangs of a deathly fear, she blew the candle out and undressed; drawing the silent boy close to her in a gentle embrace beneath the sheets. For a time it was like this; a maddening world painted in shades of black and blue grey as Raki’s life wavered. She had no intention of sleeping yet; her mind desperate and torn as no matter how firmly she held, his life seemed to be slipping from her.


In those twilight hours, she stared at his sleeping face, she gently drew his head to her’s; inclining a little so as to whisper softly.


“Raki...dear Raki...if...if...these words she pierce the black...and reach beyond...please, please listen...and take heed...for they are true; beyond all the lies and half-truths, these words are real. I...I know what it means to struggle...to fight...to dwell in the abyss; to be afflicted and racked...but...but, you...you must not forsake the world...do not forsake it just yet. I know too that the world seems black, and rotten and full of grief...that there is nothing to draw you back to it...that you are not wanted...but that is false, a thousand fold. For there is still one...amongst all others who would see you restored...and she lies here with you now; unmoving and dedicated.


Yes...she is a monster; amongst the high and great who would call themselves so...but...but...you have awoken something of old in her...she is changed...and continues to change...the firmament of her soul is stormy, but you could stand and see the clouds part to new skies...and it is for this that she desperately, fervently entreats your strength to endure. But...you must know this...beyond all things...now and to come...that you are precious, and you are beautiful and you are loved...and beyond all others, that is the truth that is found in my soul now, dear Raki...”


As her words ended, now frail and pained, she drew back a little. Her face wet with fresh tears, and her eyes shining gold. Sighing softly, she drew in again and kissed the boy on his forehead gently. Affording a sad smile, she embraced him again and let her senses focus upon him. Drawing her into a heavy lethargy, she closed her eyes and let the sounds of his fragile life keep her thoughts.

___________


She awoke. A spike of alarm bringing her back from the black, formless world. Her senses though seemed...distorted and warped; Raki remained frail beside her, yet the world around seemed not as she left it. She felt a curious disorientation; a sense of detachment from the physical while golden eyes found the familiar shapes of the dark room oddly twisted, the colours smeared and dilute. Not unlike those schizophrenic days after she had first awoke, when things made so little sense and her very being seemed precariously her own...


Outside, the sound of rain tapped at the window and Raki’s gentle breath was felt on her chest...but her eyes turned slowly to meet the presence, seemingly fixed by the door. Spying it out of the corner of her eye, she let a sigh pass. The sound of tired, empty frustration.


She recognised it, all too well. A familiar entity throughout the long years of life, though sporadic and random as was its nature. Her words were a harsh, bitter whisper in the shadows.


“Ah...yes...of course...this trial would not be complete...would not be true, without your appearance...”


The pale apparition in the corner did not move or speak; only watching as was its custom, silver eyes falling upon the couple on the bed. Luciela was not pleased.


“...Think I do not...do not know what you are?...You who have been there since I first awoke to my power...a milky apparition, a pallid spectre mocking me, judging me, guiding me to nothing...yes...I...I know all too well what you are. Little more than a fragment of my soul, a piece of my mind, some part of my will that broke away...and now returns to taunt me. A disgusting, pathetic reminder of those days, those failures...what do you watch so deeply?!...”


There was no answer.


Luciela sighed.


“No. You can’t speak, can you? You can do nothing. You can only watch...yet if you must watch, then watch over this child. Let no blade, or hand or plague sunder him. Preserve him from all things, and let not the world undo him...”


Her words, softer, met with only silence. As usual.


Luciela smirked.


“No...you can not do this, can you? Only to watch with those silver eyes; a perplexing, empty mystery with gives nothing. You have overstayed your welcome tonight, be gone!...”


It did not move, yet seemed to incline its head a little. Her anger sparked.


“I said, be gone!”


It remained. At last, gold flushed her eyes and lips drew back in a sneer, jagged teeth bared as she turned to look at the thing; hand thrust out as fingers became lances.


“I SAID BE GO-...”


At once, her words failed; dying in her throat as eyes were fixed upon the apparition. Finger birthed lances hanging in mid air as if frozen. There was silence.


Staring now, Luciela beheld something unimagined. It was not the familiar apparition of Raphaela from long past...but...Luciela, as she had been. Tall and clad in soft grey; throat guard bearing a half remembered crest, her familiar locks shorter and coldly blonde. Her eyes, those silver pools, locking with cold blue. Luciela did not blink as her numb mind began to dully scrabble for words. It was then that the small eternity between bitter past and new present ended; the ghostly thing looking away, then vanishing. Leaving Luciela alone again with the child. For a long time she stared; lances becoming fingers again as she mechanically sat up and squeezed her hand into a fist on the quilt.


What in the world had just happened?


What did it mean?


Why had that thing appeared, tonight?


These questions would remain unspoken and unanswered, even as her thoughts roamed for some explanation. Shaking her head, she composed herself; sinking her face into her hands silently, before looking about with a deep breath. Still for a moment, she looked to Raki again. He seemed to have improved, but he was still precarious. A slender hand settling above the boy’s heart as she took in the gentle rise of his chest. She lay down again, her eyes on him.


The night promised to be long...

___________


Between woman and child, monster and human there was surprisingly little between them in those hours. Both sleeping, they birthed dreams from afflicted spirits. Raki, more so bound by illness, found his dreams inconstant and chaotic; yet the longest and most coherent found the boy running through a great, ancient forest – running from what he did not know, simply the compulsion to push forward to find something. Out of breath, he leaned against a tree; his breath deep and heavy, though his open eyes soon found a curious site before him.


There some distance from him was a great throne of wood and leaves, which seemed to have risen from the earth. Yet even more curious, was its occupant. Seated with the dignity of a great monarch, was Luciela; her long red dress rich and vividly crimson, though her eyes...her eyes were golden and inhuman. Frightened, but drawn, Raki approached and those eyes followed him coldly. Stopping, he heard a rustling somewhere around and with confident steps, another Luciela appeared. Naked completely, she stopped beside the thrown with a easy grace, then looked to the boy. Her eyes were hard, cold blue but she wore a kindly expression and gestured to him in some greeting.


Feeling embarrassed, the boy blushed deeply, but this was soon interrupted by the trembling of the earth; the sound of trees groaning and leaves rustling getting louder until a huge shadow loomed above the canopy. Great clawed hands parted the trees effortlessly, and a all too familiar demonic visage arrived; exotically and terribly feline which peered down at the assembly below, then to the boy who drew back a little in fright.


The three beings peered at the small boy with unspoken interest, and he did not understand any of it. Things he had seen, known to be true, yet how could these things be as one...or were they?


Slowly the seated crimson queen extended and opened a pale hand, desiring the boy to approach. There seemed no other meaning to the gesture and the other two only watched silently. Slowly and carefully he walked forward, hand extended, until their fingers at last closed around each other...

___________


Luciela’s dreams held less question and more distilled purpose; and that purpose was violet. She was locked in combat with a deadly, powerful opponent. At the very peak of her power in awakened form, she fought a shadowy creature. Feeling this to be the essence of Raki’s affliction given form, her fury and wrath were unleashed upon its body; biting, clawing and piercing until it was ripped apart. Its heart torn out and eaten as tears ebbed from golden eyes...but she knew that victory was still far away...

___________


The twisting fears of the long night passed with the birth of morning, albeit grey and wet as dreary weather had swept down from the plains of Toulouse. Luciela waking found Raki improved, and hope sparked though throughout those hours he remained still. Returning to her vigil, cold blue eyes rested upon the boy again.

___________


He slowly came to realise that the world was a smear of shapes and colours. But more so, he felt so weak and his throat hurt terribly. His stomach ached a little and a biting thirst had him. He mumbled something unintelligible as his thoughts tried to compose themselves. Suddenly relief was at hand, and water splashed onto a needy tongue. Surprise gave way to instinct and he swallowed long and hard until no more came; a little cough coming next as he weakly rubbed his eyes. Slumping back, he slowly beheld the world again.


A bed. A room. Somewhere there was rain, and a figure was sat a little way from him. It was Luciela. Not the demon, nor golden eyed, but as he knew her. His eyes lit up and a garbled croak came in place of words, but she gestured for him to lie back again. Watching her, the red headed woman sat upon the bed a little way from him. After a moment, she turned and spoke in a voice he thought her would never hear again.


“It...it seems now that I am the one to lift you up, and give you water after a illness. Fate is twisting, is it not...”


Raki simply listened before looking dully about the room, then back to her. After a moment, he spoke.


“L..heh...Luciela...you...you are...you again...what...what happened..where are we...what happened to...to...”


His words faded as she listened. Luciela fearful of startling or frightening him, again...


“You must not fear, Raki. All jeopardy has passed. You are safe, unquestionably. We are in the town of Salz. In a Inn. After...after your collapse, it seemed that a fever had been brewing in you. You have been struggling against it, unconscious, for almost two days.”


Letting those words sink in, Raki weakly nodded.


“Then...those bandits?...”


“Slain, by my hand. They served a creature...a creature like me, but who was a follower of the Silver King. The Awakened Being was also slain. After...after our...encounter...I took up my human form and delivered you across many miles to this place, after restoring my strength.”


“Oh...yes...yes...that, that seems...yes....”


He grew silent again; brown eyes flicking to and from her. She knew all too well what was coming, and truly wished it would not. The boy spoke again, large brown eyes resting on her.


“That...that...beast in the clearing...the demon...it was...was real...was..it really...you?”


Folding her hands carefully, she was silent. Letting her head lower a little as if under a good weight. He answer was calm and dispassionate.


“Yes.”


There was silence again; the boys heart giving a little jump before settling again. He simply looked. A little part of the woman was happy he was not screaming, or crying out, or cowering on the floor.


“Then...then you are like those creatures you spoke of. In the forest. You spoke of the three great awakened ones. The Abyssal Ones. You...you...you are one of them, aren’t you?...”


Again, her voice was cool, but confirming.


“Yes. I am, as you speak truly. I am Luciela. Luciela of the South.”


He was again silent, trying to comprehend the gravity of the words in that room. He nodded a little.


“You were fighting the Silver King...his invasion...but you were...were...were wounded and collapsed...that was how I found you in that field. There were no bandits, or merchant business, were there?...”


She sighed softly. But answered.


“You are right. I was fighting the invasion of my dominion; that was how I came to be there. And no; there were no bandits, or merchant business. I lied to you...but....but what came in those times after...more and more...was the truth. I know you have no reason to believe...but I am honest, in that those words and actions...those were not born of anything else, save a fledgling sincerity...”


She raised her head a little and put her hands to either side, as if to steady herself.


“Raki...I am sorry for all that has happened. I am sorry for what you have seen and for what you have had to endure. I would not blame you for wishing never to have met me in that marshy field, but...but I say with a glad heart, that I am grateful to have met you; even if the hour was dark and a small respite from the trials of the world...”


Thinking what to say further to ease his mind, she was caught off guard when he suddenly pressed forward; small hands holding her nearest one as soft brown eyes, wet with new tears, looked up in to her perplexed face. His words were soft, tired but pure.


“Please, please do not leave me...like that again...I...I was so frightened...I...thought you were dead...or eaten up from inside by that monstrous form...or could not remember...I was so scared...”


Luciela could not believe what she was hearing; her eyes narrow with shock, her mind perplexed.


“What?...Raki...What are you saying...”


The boy simply squeezed her hand firmer and offered a smile to her.


“Luciela...I’m just so happy you...you’re alright...I don’t understand everything...but you’re alive...with me...I...I...”


The power of revelation had rendered the Abyssal silent in those moments as the boy weakly wept, holding her hand. It was in those moments, against all that she had believed for decades, for more than a life time, that she felt a miracle had happened before her very eyes. Silently, her eyes softening, she turned a little and lowered her other hand upon the boy’s head; her own lowering as she reflected those feelings so openly given.


Those blissful moments seemed to hold for a age until both drew back a bit. Raki seeming exhausted.


“Sorry...my head...my head hurts a bit..I’m so tired...”


Luciela silently nodded before rising in a fluid motion. Her voice calm, but warmer.


“Yes...yes...that’s fine. You must rest now, and drink much water. I must leave on a short errand, but I will be back quickly.”


The boy, slumped on his pillow, nodded and smiled.


Gathering her cloak around her and slinging the hand and a half sword, taken from that bandit what seemed like a century ago, upon her back, she slid her hood up and made for the door. Glancing back once to the dozing child before closing the door behind her. She had barely went a few steps before the tears streaked her cheeks, yet a golden song had sprung in her most inner core. The future was uncertain, but in those moments, she was truly happy for the first time in ages...

___________


The days that passed were new, but perhaps contented for both of them. Raki was still very weak, but recovered well; nourished by all the food he could want, and maybe in spirit too, at Luciela’s request. Soon, he and the Abyssal would take walks about town; Luciela newly garbed in a similar fashion to old, though now with a simpler design and long cloak; exchanging elegance for mystery, and compounded by the sword she now wore sheathed upon her back.


In the day after Raki regained consciousness, Luciela returned to the former battlefield with a firm purpose in mind. Returning some hours later, Raki found that she had taken whatever money the bandits had taken about in their loot and, rather oddly, the head of the dead bandit captain, Dren. It had seemed that Dren had quite a bounty put up for his head and though the local constabulary were surprised to find a woman bearing just that to them, they paid handsomely; that money amazing Raki as it was put on the bedside table in many swollen pouches.


During those long, sweet days Luciela told Raki all that he wished, and more. Sometimes during their walks, and sometimes when together in the room; the boy silent and awed by the incredible accounts that the red headed woman had witnessed. She told him of her past, her time as a Claymore, her sister, the organisation...her awakening and the long years of her life before these times of upheaval.


It had occurred to her that these were the first times that she could speak so openly of who and what she was...not simply as Luciela of the South, who was feared and awed as some terrible legend, but as she did before in the forest...just as Luciela.


It was...soothing...strange...yet her spirit was raised through such a thing...and by Raki...

___________


At night, and sometimes during the day, she would go abroad in the surrounding country side; passing through the land with unspoken purpose...yet it was discovered that many yoma had been found...or at least their remains were; as if something had suddenly visited instant death upon them in many places almost at once. The local Claymore, Anna of the 34th rank, had an encounter too, of sorts, close by her camp one night; a terrible power which passed by so close as to leave her gasping for breath and feverish with fright...


Also, it became a habit of sorts for Luciela to perch herself upon the highest tower in town, at night, and cast her gaze about the world; her third eye roaming and seeking as to tell of the war and other comings and goings. After a few nights, her conclusions were interesting...if rather worrying in their implication.


A new power had been born in the east, which stood to rival the Abyssals...yet it wore the cloaks and crests of the Organisation. Additionally, much of Isley’s force had been thinned by this new power and his remaining followers had withdrawn south, though scattered in number.


The passing of days continued uninterrupted though Luciela knew, with a saddened heart, that this bliss could not continue. A conclusion arrived at grimly as she contemplated her future one night. Stood alone upon the pinnacle of the tower as rain poured down from stained skies. Silently she watched the world around; white toes finding preternatural purchase on the ancient stone as blue eyes watched the past, and her mind weighed the future...though her soul was as above, in the storms aloft.

___________


It had been just over two weeks since they had come to Salz, when Luciela spoke sombrely to Raki one night. Sitting upon the bed in the quiet room, both were composed and silent for a long moment after, though Raki was not enthusiastic at the news of the woman’s approaching departure.


“I...but...but why? It’s peaceful here...and I thought you liked it?”


“Yes...I have; very much so, and...and if it were any other way I would choose to stay for much longer. But, I cannot ignore that my presence here will, perhaps, bring great danger to this town...and to you....”


“Well...yes...that...I know...but what about Isley and the war? Are...are you going to fight him?”


His eyes betrayed a deep unease at the prospect of further combat for the woman; Luciela nodding gently before going on, with a little hint of a smile.


“Those are important questions...Isley...hmm...Isley may fancy that he has won, believing me driven into exile or perhaps dead, but if he thinks he has won the war, then he is clearly mistaken. In the upheaval of his actions, he cannot win the peace either. He will fail miserably. In time, I may have to confront the Silver King...but that is not important now. The lands of Mucha will always be mine...and I fancy that Isley will find the south far removed from the pristine, cold heights of his former home. The lustre and shine of the king will be quickly stained and spoiled by the world he finds in the south. This I know...”


The boy was quiet for a moment.


“So...so where will you go?”


“I will go into Toulouse for a while. There are things there that I wish to do and see; walk amongst its people, taste its water, feel its soft earth beneath my feet...I will dwell there for a time before deciding what I will ultimately pursue, though I will call back here time and again. But, Raki...I cannot invite you to share the dangers of my life so immediately...and still, in Salz, is this not what you desired? What all the long journeys and pain was for?”


He seemed to nod a little, though evidently grim at the prospect of Luciela departing into the world, and unknown perils. She continued though, gently gesturing to punctuate her good reason.


“Raki...you could have a life here, a good life. You now have wealth and resources...you can have a home, prosperity and be amongst those like you...is that not a good thing?...”


Raki nodded again, answering softly as a dull pain rippled inside.


“Well...yes...but...but...I already found...what I desired...you see?”


He offered a small smile to her, and she nodded again with a little sigh; drawing a white hand through her hair before reaching out to pat him on the head.


“Yes...perhaps...but still...sometimes we cannot always have what we so dearly want...if it is perhaps for the best...I think Salz will be a good home for you. It sits well on the merchant’s highway, but is quiet and mostly removed from the greater goings on of northern Mucha. Its people seem reasonable...and the local population of Yoma nearby have been...purged. Also the local Claymore seems quite capable. Solid, if not spectacular...I would say. But a good girl...such things would only make this place more recommended in my eyes.”


Raki nodded, but his spirits did not lift much. Looking up as she stood, drawing her black cloak about her.


“I will be leaving tomorrow, at dusk, Raki. From there I will go north, as intended.”


The boy sighed sadly, swallowing as his throat seemed to softly burn and his face felt hot.


“Yes...yes, I know...”


Luciela nodded a little then turned for the door. The soft report of her steps came to halt not far from the door, and she was silent. Raki looked at her oddly. At last, she spoke, but did not look back.


“Raki...please know...please believe and trust that this is what I think good for you...but...but...I will not deny you choice. It will not be as before, with your fate chopped and tugged by the hands of others. You can choose. If...if you should choose one over the other...I will not stop you. I will leave by the northern gate tomorrow and be on that hill, just outside town to consider my direction. That is my plan, and I do not expect anything beyond that. Please know this.”


The boy looked and stared, eyes reflective as he considered the tall woman’s words.


“Yes...yes, I will think about that and keep it in mind, Luciela...”


She turned a little, glancing over her shoulder with dispassionate eyes.


“That is good, Raki. I have some last business in town tonight. I do not believe in exaggerations of parting, so I will slip away quietly tomorrow. But, for the moment, I will see you later tonight.”


With that she slipped her hood on and left, leaving the boy to think long and hard. It was late now, the shadows growing deep, and the old clock down the hallway marked the hour in dull, mechanical tones.

___________


The next day, as dusk blossomed in the western sky and all the world was in tones of red, orange and pink, a lone cloaked figure stood upon a hill at the mouth of a forest; a sword slung upon its back and face veiled by a heavy hood. Regarding this fine scene with cold shadow veiled eyes, Luciela looked northward and to the last hills before the plains of Toulouse opened. Reflecting for a moment upon the vicissitudes of fate, she silently turned and began on the path towards her future. She had gone someway when her sharp senses turned to find something approaching from down the hill; rapid steps and quick heart too. Those alone were enough to halt her, head bowing a little. There could be no doubt...


With deep breaths, Raki arrived at the pinnacle; wide eyes searching in hope. Then fixing upon the cloaked figure someway away, a great smile broke across his face and he jogged forward.


Luciela was silent for a moment, then turned slowly. The boy’s face was almost shining.


For a moment, there was quiet between them, before the boy spoke.


“Luciela...I thought about it; all night and all day, and I chose.”


The Abyssal of the South was silent then spoke in soft tones.


“Raki...it seems you have. But...do you understand the weight of your choice today? Do you know what it means, for you?...”


The boy nodded carefully.


“Yes. Yes, I do very much so. And I still choose to do so.”


Luciela regarded him for a long moment, as if he was a crystal ball that hid some misty future from her eyes. In the end, she nodded too; warmth creeping into her voice. In as much as she could deny it and see a hundred dangers in it, a strong part of her core was so very grateful and glad...very, very glad for the boy’s choice.


“Very well...it seems that you have found what you have desired, and made your choice.”


The boy looked like he was going to say something, then shifted back the folds of his cloak to draw forth new, sharp steel which he held with some satisfaction. Luciela raised an eyebrow at it.


“Raki...what is that?”


“It’s a sword, a new one I bought just today, I...I...eh...I would like to protect you with it.”


The words brought a gentle smile, and a surge of soft warmth, for the Abyssal, though she had her own proposition for his ambition.


“I am very grateful for your will and your strength...though, may I say a little in that the weapon you have can reach its full potential?”


“Y...yes, of course!” The boy spoke, as he clumsily sheathed the weapon again.


“Raki...I would like to recount an old saying...you might guess one that I now favour...you see, before a kitten can learn to use its claws, it must first learn to use its senses and become learned in the ways of the world. If you would be a careful, considerate student of what I will teach you and if you can learn well, then I will happily teach you the ways of the sword; in which I am very learned.”


“Yes, oh yes. That sounds good and I will listen to all you want to teach or say. I will, really, Luciela.”


With that, she smiled.


“Very well, Raki. Now... come with me, and let us see what we make of the world...”


Turning, she started off and Raki hurried along beside her with a soft smile. She returned it from beneath her hood as the road opened before them, and the last hills of the northern uplands welcomed them ahead.


End of chapter 5.


(part 2)

Thanks again,


Blue Pentacle.

[Shiek927]

It was too late last night for me to write anything large, but now I can, thanks for waiting

Ahh, the moment of truth arrived; I have to be honest, all throughout the chapter, I thought she was going to kill Raki. I just had that vibe throughout the whole thing; perhaps because we've known about her fears that no relationship could ever work out if he inevitably found out what she was, but It didn't happen, which I didn't complain about at all.

Raki fainting, I have to admit, was kind of stretched; you seem to imply if he fell into a coma after his shock because he contracted an illness; It still feels kind of pushing it. I mean, she even bathes him and he still doesn't wake up? How can a shock and/or an illness put someone in a state like that? Now, you don't really explain what exactly he contracted, but regardless, I feel like I had to use my imagination during that.

This whole chapter was full of memorable moments; my favorite, no doubt, was Luciella walking outside in the middle of the rain because she didn't want Raki to see her cry; I don't think any moment in your entire story before this one truly sums up the effect Raki has had on her.

Luciella "killing" Raki's illness was an interesting idea, a shame that's not how it works in real-life . Whereas before, I saw some similiarities for Teresa and Claire, they largely continue. New references though, like Raki learning how to fight with Luciella instead of Isley were new and I enjoyed them just as well. You imply Alicia's awakening and Raki finally hears the truth about everything. In summation, you tie alot of loose-ends in this chapter, which I feel you purposely did because the story is turning in a completely new direction.

I feel like the entire story has been leading up to this one moment....now, I have absolutely idea where the story will go, which makes me all the more excited

[revan5]

http://www.fanfiction.net/anime/Clay.../0/5043/1/0/1/

Only 10 days in and I'm up to 325 hits and 150 visitors! Holy smokes! Shiek, FYI, the latest (and greatest) versions of the chapters are now being posted on fanfiction.net. Why? Well mainly because it's a huge pain editing Animesuki posts when ff.net does the time-consuming part of separating out the paragraphs for you. Consider yourself fairly warned! I'm up to chapter 3 already (and updating weekly), so I'd wait for the updated chapter 6 on ff.net, review that, and post your review here if you like. I'm up to the 4th chapter as of this posting time.

[Blue Pentacle]

Hi Shiek927,


Thank you very kindly for having the patience to review the chapter. I do appreciate it.


You highlighted several points of importance, which are both interesting and deserve further elaboration .


In regards to Raki collapsing, I can appreciate that it seemed maybe a little far fetched, though one must keep in mind several factors before reducing it to mere convenience.


Raki had been travelling north for some weeks, with little food or sustainence, exposed to the elements and with limited oppertunity for good hygiene. This would have already taken its toll on a young body, when compounded by the fear and simple power of discovering such a awful truth; a fact which alone would leave quite an impression on a healthy human being in that position.


Also, in regards to Luciela slaying Raki's illness, though this might be a self-defeating statement, is that it is a insight into the dreams of both sleepers; suggestive of their respective states and conditions - which in Luciela's case was fear and impotence over Raki's health .


Further, I am very glad that you enjoyed the work as a whole and that it has raised questions over the future of the two; though I was initally very curious as to why you thought she might kill him, by such a late chapter? Still, I am pleased for your stance and would hope that the concept continues to compel you in the future .


Thanks,


Blue Pentacle.

[revan5]

Spoiler for "The Silver-eyed Empress" Chapter 5, part 1:

Chapter 5

Excerpt from “A History of Toulouse”

The situation in Toulouse in 3 A.L.E. (After Liberation Era) was incredibly tense. The Dominion of Toulouse, the island’s primary power, had been contacted by the world’s two superpowers, the Grand Alliance and the rising Romanow Empire. The Dominion’s leader, Lord Mayor Zaehringen, knew that to enter the world war on either side meant a certain invasion by the other superpower. Unfortunately for Zaehringen, the Grand Alliance was not offering to allow the Dominion to remain neutral. The island of Toulouse’s location and natural resources made it a great location for a naval base, one the Grand Alliance thought of global importance.

The Romanow Empire lacked the overwhelming naval power of its predecessor state, the Alliance of Nations. When Katarzyna Romanowa’s coup occurred, the navy was the least loyal of the armed forces to the new empress. Nearly a third of the navy was lost to internal fighting, as the empress’ supporters tried to take command of the navy and Alliance loyalists resisted them. Another portion defected to the Kingdom of Breton rather than their hated enemies, the Grand Alliance. By the time Empress Katarzyna secured Praha seven months into her reign, only half of the old navy was left.

Despite this, it was still formidable, and with the empress’ renewed backing, gaining strength. One of her fleets caught a Bretonese fleet in Konstanz Bay off the island of Toulouse. There they inflicted a crushing defeat on their former comrades and awoke the Grand Alliance to the deadly reach of the Romanow Empire. When the Grand Alliance found it could not decisively defeat the Imperial Romanow Navy, it turned to the isle of Toulouse as the key to upsetting the balance of power on the high seas.

The Romanow Empire for its part wished to stop this plot, so the empress sent a delegation to the island to secure its neutrality. Her lead ambassador was the silver-tongued Count Andrei Tuluzy, who conveniently enough brought his wife. Countess Audrey Tuluzy was an ex-Organization claymore, who besides being familiar with the island’s power brokers knew where the Organization’s secret archives might be. These the empress wanted, although the Dominion of Toulouse’s commanding officer, Countess Miria de Beauharnais-Malaga, was making certain the sites in question were closely watched.

Unfortunately for all concerned, an underlying current of resentment on the island threatened to wreck everyone’s plans. When the Council of Lords held a meeting with all of the Dominion’s highest-ranking officers present, those who resented the island’s change in political order had their chance. They attacked during the meeting at a most crucial point…




The Rabona Orthodox Church had never been so humiliated in its multi-century history. Since the church’s founding 605 years before the island’s liberation from outside rule, it had been the sole ruler of Rabona. Nothing had interrupted this rule; not the island’s civil war a century prior, not the presence of Yoma and the Organization, nor the political upheavals resulting from the Organization’s overthrow.

Then, two years following the destruction of the ungodly Organization, Rabona had been besieged by forces from Lautrec. To beat them off, the church had made a devilish deal with witches; silver-eyed witches. They were the horrific hybrid creations of the dastardly Organization; silver-eyed witches were one part human and one part demon. Bishop Vincent had made the deadly mistake of trusting the witches; they instead sided with the aristocrats and merchant tycoons of Rabona.

In the space of a week, the Rabona Orthodox Church had lost all political power. First the aristocratic and merchant-led Council of Lords led a revolt against church for its resistance to violating the word of God. When the Holy Council had appealed to the Holy Guards, who were technically under the Holy Council and Bishop’s direct command, they were betrayed. The Holy Guards’ commander, then-Colonel Phantom Miria, hadn’t lifted a finger to help and instead actively prevented the Holy Council’s messengers from reaching her army’s camp.

Thus it was that the Holy Council lost control of its own army; it had been betrayed from within by silver-eyed demons and the town’s wealthiest citizens. Phantom Miria may have spectacularly beaten King Charles’ armies within two weeks, but it mattered little. What mattered to Father Mazarin was that the church was stripped of all power and god’s laws had been usurped by the corruption of money and silver-eyed demons.

“Well, that’s only going to last for so long,” he remarked to himself smugly.

Father Mazarin was a partly bald, middle-aged man. He was physically unremarkable, his poor vision often causing him to squint, and wore the simple whites robes of a priest. He had been unmatched in inspiring his congregations with his fervent speeches. This had speeded his rise to a position on the six-person Holy Council, the ruling government in Rabona for the past six centuries. A body, which, now thanks to his “elimination” of all of its other male members, no longer existed.

He was standing just outside a small riverside town, Orleans, which was north of Rabona. It occupied a crucial point on the Toulouse River between the capital city of the Dominion of Toulouse and the northern lands. These lands were increasing in wealth and population as mining grew in the mountains on its border. The river was the major artery between Rabona and the Northern Lands of Alphonse, and would, with his efforts today, suffer a fatal clog.

Mazarin walked up to a wooden stage that had been set up by his devoted priestly followers. He was standing just outside the pitiful wooden town gates with some half dozen priests in white to either side of the elevated stage. Before the stage were standing hundreds of townspeople and farmers, men and women both. They had come to hear of the great holy quest he was about to tell them about. However first he needed to connect to their innermost fears, a task made tougher by the sunny weather.

“Most devoted and faithful followers of the Orthodox faith,” Mazarin said, throwing his arms in dramatic fashion, “it is indeed wonderful to see so many follow the true teachings of the church. But you’re not here to hear me talk of platitudes. Your church is in danger on all sides. We have all seen it, we have all felt it, and we all know of it. Less than a year ago we all saw the church of god disgraced before his very eyes. Some of you may wonder how this could happen…”

A man in the crowd shouted, “How could god let this happen to our church?”

A woman cried, “Why has the rule of god been ended?!?”

“I too wondered the same thing,” Mazarin answered. “It is only now, looking back, that I recognize the handiwork of demons and devils. Their horrible deeds, however, are not things that devoted children of god like you should hear!”

“We would hear it,” a man shouted.

A woman in the crowd shouted, “How else can we serve god but thwart these demons?!?”

Soon the few cries became deafening, the faithful demanding that he tell them the story.

Mazarin knew he had them where he wanted, “Very well my children, if you must hear of evil and wicked deeds, I suppose I can limit their unkind influences upon you. I will begin this story from a time we all know so well: the church’s beginning over six centuries ago!”

An expectant hush fell over the faithful as he let the silence add to the tension.

“Over six centuries ago, a pair of beautiful girls was sacrificed by the heathen lords of old. They had sacrificed themselves to protect the lives of everyone they held dear. The heathens hanged the girls, but yet they were not satisfied in their defiling of such purity. One of the lords decided he would burn their bodies for sport. Just as he touched the torch to the girls’ dresses, he found they did not burn. When he reached to touch their skin, their eyes opened!”

“They were angels!”

It was a unanimous cry from the crowd, who knew the tale only too well.

“The heathen lords were struck down where they stood by god, who at last revealed to all the true way,” Mazarin continued, his voice rising. “The angels of god walked amongst the people of this great land for twelve long years. They taught us the true path to salvation, the true teachings of god, and the true faith. One day the angels Teresa and Claire ascended to heaven together, and behind them they left a book!”

“The holy book of god!” the crowd cried together.

Mazarin dramatically unveiled a white and gold-embroidered version of the holy book before the crowd’s very eyes. A hush fell upon them as he held it aloft.

“The first believers founded the rock of god, the Rabona Orthodox Church. For four and a half centuries they spread the true word of the one god to each and every corner of this island. This island was ruled as god intended, but then a terrible menace was unleashed amongst the people.”

A number of men shouted, “It was the work of heretics!”

“No!” Mazarin shouted, stunning the crowd into silence. “Those people, those heretics, were led astray by a far greater foe. In the beginning of the world, there was one angel who fell from grace. He spread his evil influence onto this island and corrupted many of the people. I once thought he had been defeated, but when I look back now at what has happened; I see his evil influence everywhere!”

Several women cried out, “No, tell us it isn’t so!”

The fallen angel, god’s enemy here on this world, corrupted a group of men we knew as the Organization,” Mazarin explained. “A century ago these men came here, seeking a way to fight the fallen angel’s demons, the Yoma, in order to give them power. They recruited wayward sisters of our faith and made them a bargain. They would give the sisters eternal youth and great strength in exchange for them implanting the demons’ flesh into them. Then they would fight the fallen angel’s demons on the Organization’s behalf.”

Several women in the crowd shouted, “The Organization were fools to trust them!”

Mazarin made a shushing motion with his arms and the crowd fell silent, “For over a century, the fallen angel’s demons and the half-demons, these silver-eyed witches, made battle. In our foolishness, we began to relate to them as people, nicknaming them the ‘claymores’. But the whole time, behind it all, the fallen angel worked his evil influences upon his half-children.”

The crowd fell totally silent, which Mazarin knew was probably because they knew of the terrible and twisted tale that was to come.

“The fallen angel corrupted a particularly strong witch, a claymore of whom we all know: Phantom Miria,” Mazarin said, letting her name linger in the air.

A number of curses came through the crowd, the resentment of the usurper of the church’s rule very evident.

“Down with the she-devil!”

“Kill the usurper!”

“Burn the witches!”

“How could god allow this to happen?!?”

Mazarin waved his arms for silence as the shouts and threats against Miria’s life piled up, “My children, I believe god is testing us in the great battle against the fallen angel. He corrupted Phantom Miria, who swayed many of her sisters-in-arms to join her in battle against the Organization. When they triumphed against their former masters, the half-children of the fallen angel were freed from their shackles.”

“But why did the church ally itself with them?!?”

“The church was confronted by a dastardly warlord who called himself King Charles,” Mazarin hissed. “It was all part of the fallen angel’s plans. He used the threat of King Charles to force Bishop Vincent to ask the angel’s half-children for aid. Bishop Vincent was so focused on the threat of Charles he never saw the plot against his own church.”

Mazarin began to cry, letting the tears fall, knowing it could only push the crowd further down the path he wanted them to travel.

“At first we thought we had won, but we were deceived. King Charles’ forces returned six months after the witches had helped fight off his first siege. Phantom Miria and the godless merchants in the Council of Lords demanded that we use the most ungodly methods to destroy King Charles’ army. When Bishop Vincent refused in god’s name, we…”

The crowd knew only too well what happened, a number of women sobbing.

“We were betrayed, just like the fallen angel intended,” Mazarin cried. “God’s rule on this island was overthrown in a night. The church, which had ruled our holy city for over six centuries, was stripped of all power by the Council of Lords minions and the complicit support of Phantom Miria’s half-demons!”

Mazarin held up the holy book, “During the battle of Kerouac Gorge, a long-prophesied tale came true. The angels Teresa and Claire warned us of the coming of the fallen angel’s daughter on this world. Phantom Miria was seen growing black-and-white wings during the battle…the wings of a fallen half-angel!”

There was complete shock and silence in the crowd now.

Mazarin began more quietly, increasing his volume with time, “After the battle a horrible discovery was made. It seems the half-demons are breeding and producing children of their own. The fallen angel is making his move to challenge god on this world, and we must act to stop him!”

Shouts of approval rang out throughout the crowd as Mazarin held his arms out to accept their applause.

“My children, god is calling on us to put an end to the fallen angel’s kind, restore the rule of the church to this island, and bring virtue back to the world. God has called us to launch the most holy of quests; he has called upon me, you, and every of his faithful to launch the Toulousan Inquisition!”

“For god!”

“We’ll die for our god!”

“Tell us what to do Father Mazarin!”

Mazarin held up a hand for silence, smiling, knowing they were ready, “My children, god’s quest begins here in Orleans. Our restoration of god’s rule begins here today! Join me, and we will take the garrison and begin our holy quest!”

The priests began throwing out pitchforks, swords, spears, wooden shields, bows, and quivers of arrows to those in the crowd. They eagerly grabbed the weapons, and despite being dressed as mere peasants, farmers, and housewives, they would more than suffice.

Mazarin grabbed a sword and raised it high, “Now follow me to the garrison!”

The crowd, numbering almost a thousand, rallied around him and charged into the dense river town. There were no guards at the gate, which was typical. They charged up the streets past surprised merchants, who Mazarin directed the crowd to shackle. They at last reached the enclosed brick bridge that led to a small island fortress in the river.

A few Toulousan archers shot off arrows as the mob approached, a pair of peasants being felled next to Mazarin.

“Onwards children of god,” Mazarin shouted, holding aloft the angel-winged flag of Rabona. “Our god needs all his faithful to fight!”

They reached the fortified wooden door guarding the town’s end of the river bridge. With the help of several torches, they burned the door, and several of the men smashed in the smoldering embers. The crowd surged down the bridge, crushing the few dozen soldiers in their way. Within an hour, the river fortress of Orleans was in the Inquisition’s hands.




It started like the dream Miria had had shortly before the Battle of Kerouac Gorge. She found herself in a sea of endless mist. She whipped around, fearing there would be someone behind her in the dream. Abruptly a light appeared in the gray mists, and Miria decided to walk towards it.

She walked forward, glanced down and found she was wearing her finest armor. She was wearing plate armor now over her chest, back and shoulders in the form of a cuirass. Atop her shoulders was a pair of gold-gilded pauldrons, while she wore gold-gilded gauntlets as well. Gold rimmed greaves cover her lower legs and knees, while a gold-rimmed steel helmet topped with a plume of red feathers was in her hands.

She put the helmet on, even though she knew it was a dream. She reached the light; it was, just like previous, a lantern mounted atop a black iron post. Below it was plush grass that for whatever reason the mists did not cover.

“Bravo Countess,” a sinister female voice said. “You escaped the gruesome end of your family and kept your dream alive.”

Miria whipped around, drawing her sword. Standing hardly ten feet away was the visage of Miria’s former archenemy, the long-deceased No. 4, Ophelia. Ophelia was wearing an Organization uniform, standing firm and not drawing her claymore. Ophelia snickered and touched her white-haired ponytail with a flick of her hand.

“What’s the matter Countess Miria,” Ophelia sneered, “why the long face?”

“You…”

“You forget Miria that deep down I’m you,” Ophelia laughed. “I am nothing but a figment of your mind, of your fears…and of your nightmares.”

Miria asked the visage, “Why am I here again?”

“I don’t know, but perhaps it has to do with your ambition,” Ophelia chuckled.
Miria mouthed, “My ambition?”

“Don’t play innocent with me Miria,” Ophelia said, and then the visage suddenly transformed.

In Ophelia’s place was an identical twin of Miria in battle armor, only Miria knew by experience this image was composed of her darkest nature.

“Thanks to your improbable victory over King Charles,” her twin stated, “your destined fate is still in reach. Would you like to see it?”

Miria reached out a hand and then retracted it. Her evil twin visage laughed.

“I have it right here,” the twin said, unveiling a blue and gold-ribbon box.

Miria hesitated to come closer but the evil twin opened the top of the box. Coming out of the box was a blazing light, rendering whatever was inside invisible because of the blinding light. Miria walked closer and touched the box’s edge.

“You’ll have to reach inside to see it,” her ‘twin’ said.

Miria hesitated a moment, and then reached inside. There came a blinding flash, at which Miria shielded her eyes.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry, I’ll have them put the window back,” a male voice said.

Miria blinked her eyes open to find herself in the Teresian Cathedral’s sandstone interior. A ray of brilliant sunlight far above was blazing into her eyes until a worker on the scaffolding high above placed a black drape over the opening.
She blinked her eyes open again to find Cid seated beside her in gorgeous blue and gold robes. He was wearing a golden crown atop his head. Miria looked back to find Natalie and Renee similarly dressed, each wearing smaller and more effeminate crowns. Miria looked down at her own robes, which seemed grandest of all.

“Your Majesty,” a courtier said, dressed in a fine white and red jacket, “I apologize for the wait, but your crown has just arrived.”

“Merci,” Miria found herself saying.

The cathedral’s center featured a rich red carpet lining it all the way to the grand main doors hundreds of yards distant. Heavenly light shined down from the cathedral’s stained glass windows. A courtier walked forward stiffly, holding a black satin pillow in both arms with care. Atop the pillow was a magnificent, diamond-festooned golden crown.

Miria stood up to her full height to watch her crown approach. Two lines of guards in plate armor, blue and gold-embroidered cloaks, and wielding large halberds stood at attention. To either side of the central aisle were crowds of hushed onlookers, men and women both, all of them wearing their finest clothes.
The courtier arrived before Miria and kneeled. A very familiar Ruud van Willems walked from the side in fine black robes. He grabbed the crown from the satin pillow as Miria kneeled.

“Countess Miria Victoire de Beauharnais-Malaga, you have saved the island of Toulouse from civil war and united all its lands under Rabona’s rule,” van Willems stated. “The people of Toulouse wish for you to accept the throne and rule our lands fairly and wisely. Do you accept the position of queen?”

Miria hesitated a moment before answering, “I do.”

“Then I dub thee Your Royal Majesty, Miria Victoire Beauharnais-Malaga de Rabona, Queen of the Kingdom of Toulouse,” van Willems stated.

Ruud van Willems placed the beautiful crown atop her head and stood back, bowing from the knee. The crowd in the Teresian Cathedral burst out in applause and tears of joy as Miria stood up. She circled around to take her place upon the throne. Renee was wiping away tears of joy, Natalie was hugging Renee and even kissed her on the cheek in joy. Renee surprisingly didn’t even object, while Cid was beaming at her. Miria took her seat as new shouts in the joyous crowds in the cathedral broke out.

The townspeople shouted, “Vive la reine! Viva la reine! Viva la reine!”

Miria smiled at their shouts in Toulousan of “long live the queen”.

Abruptly everything went wrong, as two tremendous crashes of glass interrupted. People screamed out in alarm as two of the cathedral’s massive stained-glass windows were smashed, each opposite the other. Landing in the midst of the cathedral were a pair of very familiar claymores. One had forehead-length bangs, her hair cropped short of the shoulder, and was wearing a black leather outfit and a massive sword upon her back.

Opposite the female claymore was a much taller, strongly built male claymore. He was also wearing a male version of a black leather fighting outfit, a massive claymore upon his back. He wore his blond hair messily, and Miria had little doubt who he was, or that of his female accomplice.

“Claire, Raki,” Miria shouted at them, “what is this madness?!?”

“We’ve come to take down the new dictator,” Claire announced, drawing her sword.

People ran screaming from the cathedral as Raki drew his blade and the two faced off against the new Royal Guard. The slaughter was appalling as Miria frantically grabbed her blade from behind the throne. Renee dropped her robes, revealing a fighting outfit underneath, and drew her blade as Claire approached the throne.

Miria shouted at Natalie, “Natalie, run for it!”

There was a scream, and Miria turned to find Renee screaming out in pain. Renee had had her legs cut off in a vicious swing by Claire. Renee toppled to the cathedral floor, bleeding and screaming. Abruptly another twenty female claymores charged into the cathedral. Helen led them on, aiming a drill sword straight at Raki.

He merely dodged the spinning blade as her arm extended out. With a step back, he slashed down and Helen screamed out as Raki slashed her arm in two.
Miria lost her patience and charged Claire before she could cut down Tabitha as well. Miria caught Claire’s blade and deflected it. Tabitha, Nadia, and Nina stopped Raki from cutting down Miria from behind. The battle turned fast and vicious, Miria’s comrades being cut down by Claire and Raki despite her best efforts.

Nadia was cut down in a vicious slash, falling to the floor. Yuma and Nina soon followed, desperately clutching their bodies and moaning in pain. Miria saw Miata enter the fray with Clarice on her side, but they didn’t last long against Raki. Clarice was cut down in an effortless, lightning-fast slash by Raki. Miata, in shock, proved almost as easy to pick off.

Claire attempted an all-out series of slashes against Miria. Miria was dodging them with ease as she got rid of most of her robes. She was holding her own when out of the corner of her eye she saw Raki’s blade incoming…

Miria blinked her eyes open, breathing hard as she clutched her chest and sighed in relief. It had been a dream, just a horrible, horrible dream. She was in her command carriage, which had been traveling north from Rabona since news of an attack at Orleans. A pair of windows provided morning light upon the small bed jammed into the carriage. Miria was wearing only her navy-blue leather outfit as she flipped off the sheets.

There was a knock at the door opposite Miria and a familiar yoki present.

“Come in Colonel,” Miria stated.

Renee walked in wearing a steel cuirass, gold-gilded pauldrons and gauntlets, and a fine steel helmet. She looked a little worried as she looked over Miria.

Renee asked, “General, is there something wrong?”

Miria sat up, sighing, “Nothing you need to worry about Colonel, just a nightmare. What is the news from Orleans?”

“It’s horrible,” Renee shuddered. “The first troops there didn’t find anyone left in the town. There was evidence left behind that a number of people were burned at stakes.”

Miria stood up, her eyes wide, “Burned at stakes?!?”

“There was also this,” Renee said, handing over a note.

Miria read the note, “The Toulousan Inquisition will only end when all the silver-eyed demons are dead and the true rule of god is restored.”

“It has to be the work of Mazarin,” Renee stated. “Sister Galatea said Bishop Vincent was murdered by Mazarin. He’s launching a holy war to restore the church to power…”

Renee’s words hung in the air as they both fell into deep thought pondering the hell that was undoubtedly coming.

“General, we also found the Orleans’ armory was broken into and all the soldiers guarding the river fortress were killed,” Renee stated. “What would you like us to do?”

Miria stood up and looked at a map of the star-shaped island. Near its center was Rabona, while Orleans was marked north of the city. Both cities sat along the mighty Toulouse River, the lifeblood of the island’s economy and commerce.

Miria made up her mind and ordered, “I want martial law declared along the entire Toulouse River north of Rabona. I want Nadia’s infantry regiment to secure Orleans from further attack and to search the local area for the insurgents. The army is to be placed on immediate alert, and I want the training regimen sped up. Forward a note to Lord Mayor Zaehringen requesting a boost in the military funding and size.”

Renee had taken a notepad out and was scribbling down the orders madly. She looked up as Miria stopped.

“I also want you to take our latest infantry regiment east and occupy the old Organization headquarters at Staff,” Miria ordered. “You’ll be taking Lieutenants Miata and Clarice with you.”

Renee appeared shocked, “General, I’m in command of Rabona’s defenses. You aren’t relieving me of—“

“Relax Colonel,” Miria reassured. “I need someone to establish our military presence in the eastern lands and also secure the Organization’s archives from pilfering by our ‘friends’ in the Grand Alliance and the Romanow Empire. Secure Staff, fortify it, and we will reinforce your men as best we can. You will be my top commander in the eastern lands.”

“Yes, of course general,” Renee murmured.

“You’re dismissed Colonel,” Miria said.

Renee left the carriage and Miria stared in distress at the map. If Mazarin was smart, he’d do constant hit-and-runs against the Toulouse River Valley. While the Northern lands and much of the valley were under control and fortified, the eastern and southern lands were not. The western lands were under the control of the hostile Kingdom of Lautrec, but Lautrec was infamous for its opposition to the Rabona Orthodox Church. Mazarin would not easily be able to head west, and if he did, the Border Mountains between central Toulouse and western Lautrec were a death-trap.

Miria got out of the carriage, hopped on her horse, and headed north to Orleans with an escort. She arrived to find soldiers dousing flames in Orleans. Once inside the town she found Commander Nadia setting up her infantrymen alongside her black-haired civilian husband, Raul.

“General,” Nadia said, saluting. “We’ve found the bodies of over one hundred and fifty men, women and children. Of those some sixty men and women were burned at these stakes,” Nadia pointed in disgust.

Dozens of iron stakes were arranged in the town square. Tied to them were blackened remains Miria could not bear to look upon.

Nadia continued, “We found a large number of notes left claiming they were acting against the fallen angel’s children.”

Miria sighed, “They think were some kind of devil, do they?”

Miria spotted movement atop the houses across the square.

She screamed, “Nadia, duck!”

The twang of three different bows let loose, and Miria heard Nadia scream out. Miria got up to find a particularly nasty steel bolt embedded into the left side of Nadia’s belly. Raul was already screaming for doctors, while to Miria’s right were two soldiers dead, steel bolts embedded right through their helmets.

Miria turned, drew her blade with fury, and charged towards the three individuals who’d fired the bolts. They were all men in peasant clothing, each holding a bizarre weapon as they reloaded atop the third floor roofs they’d fired from. Miria charged across the town square as soldiers began racing into the house’s bottom. She took a more direct route, making a massive jump onto the roof.

She nearly slipped off, but managed to find her feet after scrambling foot and hand for grip. Miria ran up the roof as best she could just as the first of the attackers had begun to cock his weapon for another shot. He didn’t so much as move as she came. Instead he raised his weapon and took aim. Miria dove feet first into him, sending him off his feet and off the roof to a sudden end.

Miria turned left and barely dodged a shot from one of the fallen man’s compatriots. They were both before her, and she noticed in alarm that the third man was taking aim at her with the strange weapon. She compensated and flung her sword at him, the blade hitting him in the chest. He crumpled while the other man turned to run. Miria didn’t give him much time to do so.

The man cleared the gap between the house and another beside it. Miria jumped even further, cutting off his escape. She caught him by the scruff of the collar just as he dropped the strange weapon into the alley below.

“You’re caught, give up,” Miria said, hoisting him skywards.

“I’ll never give myself in to a daughter of the fallen angel,” the man said.

He produced a dagger in his right hand and attempted to stab Miria. To stop him she was forced to drop him with her left arm. She knocked his dagger away but also knocked him off balance. He fell backwards, hit the slanted roof once, and then fell to his death.

Miria dropped carefully into the alley below to find the man dead, his fluids spreading out around his fractured head onto the cobblestones.

“Ugh,” Miria sniffed in disgust.

A dozen of her armored subordinates rushed up.

A sergeant asked, “General, are you okay?!?”

“I’m fine, but have someone retrieve my sword,” Miria ordered.

A pair of soldiers rushed off to retrieve the soldiers as another presented the dead man’s weapon to her.

“It’s a strange weapon general,” a soldier commented, holding it out to her. “It appears to be a cross of a bow and a ballista in nature. Its frame is reinforced by crossing steel strips, and its arrows are hollowed steel bolts.”

Miria examined the strange weapon, which was unlike any bow she had ever held.

“Well, it’s shaped like a cross, and it holds arrow bolts and fires them like a bow,” Miria reasoned. “We’ll call them crossbows. Take this back to Rabona and see if we can get anyone able to reproduce it.”

Miria walked back to the town square to find Raul and a military doctor attending the curly-haired Nadia. Miria walked up to see them pulling out the steel bolt as Nadia screamed in pain. They seemed to be having trouble getting it out, so Miria pitched in. With one strong tug, the bolt came out, as did a significant chunk of Nadia’s flesh with the barbed arrowhead.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Nadia cursed, crushing her husband’s left hand.

Raul yelped, at which Nadia apologized, “I’m sorry honey, I didn’t mean to crush your hand. It isn’t broken, is it?”

The dark-haired Raul cringed as he held up his left hand, “I think it might be broken.”

Miria helped heal Nadia’s belly with a little yoki synchronization. The blood stopped flowing first, followed by the flesh forming up in the gap the arrow left. The wound finished healing when the skin formed over the wound.

Nadia breathed a sigh of relief, “Well, I hope I don’t get hit by another of those. I’ll make it up to you dear,” she told the cringing Raul, who was clutching his broken left hand.

A soldier came rushing up on horseback as Miria turned to stand, stopped before her, and promptly saluted, “General, the countryside is in flames all across the entire river valley. We’ve had rioting, acts of sabotage, hangings of merchants, attacks upon merchant convoys and claymores, and hit-and-run attacks on half our army garrisons. Lord Mayor Zaehringen urgently asks you to return to Rabona.”

Miria hissed, “Mazarin is going to regret provoking me.”

[revan5]

Spoiler for "The Silver-eyed Empress" Chapter 5, part 2:

Natalie blinked her eyes open to find the day’s light was mostly gone. It was audibly raining outside, and she was snug in her large pink bed. Atop the bed was an adorable tiger cub, Dabi, who had fallen asleep upon the bed. He’d found the bump her legs made under the pink covers perfect for resting his wearied head upon.

Natalie sighed and lovingly stroked the baby tiger’s head. A few moments later a female servant came in dressed in a plain, dark green dress. Her hair was covered by a white shawl, and the young female servant girl was looking disapprovingly at Natalie in her white nightgown.

“Lady Natalie, it is almost noon already,” she stated. “Your father and mother would not approve of such a lazy lifestyle.”

Natalie yawned as the servant girl tossed the covers off and Dabi scrambled off the bed in alarm. She was on the Ile de poires, the “Isle of Pears”. It got the name from the large pear orchards in its south, and was made an isle by the Toulouse River parting around it at its northern end. The Toulouse River rejoined at the isle’s southern end, and from above on a map it also looked pear-shaped.

Her parents, Count Cid Malaga and Countess “Phantom” Miria de Beauharnais-Malaga, had just bought the isle half a year prior. They’d developed the isle’s northern end, renovating its lone manor and the servant dormitories. Given she was Miria’s adoptive silver-eyed daughter, Miria’s marriage to Cid gave her the noble rank of “Lady”. It was a rank that came with its privileges and its annoyances.

This she was soon reminded of as other female servants entered the large bedroom. Her nightgown was taken off, she was given a bath in a wooden tub, her hair was shampooed, and then they dressed her. She wasn’t even given the chance to put on her underwear without five servant girls helping. She wasn’t happy stripping down in front of so many others, even if they were female, but it was part of the routine that came with the rank.
Thankfully, Natalie thought, due to how Miria saved her life at the battle of Kerouac Gorge, she lacked the obvious belly scarring most claymores had. It made stripping down in front of human women a lot less embarrassing. They stuffed on an undershirt on her, and then stuffed Natalie into a pair of white cotton tights. To these Natalie added a white shirt, a pink riding jacket, and also a pair of long, light brown riding boots.

They left the room once she’d finished dressing, and Natalie soon turned to suckling Dabi on a bottle of warm milk. The growing tiger cub was adorably suckling from the bottle when Renee waltzed in. Renee was wearing her usual armor, her gold-gilded pauldrons having picked up a few scratches.

“Oh hey Renee,” Natalie sighed, “how are things going?”

Renee looked wearied, “I’ve been ordered to Staff to make sure nobody sneaks into the Organization archives.”

Natalie took out one of her dozens of hidden card decks, “Hey, do you have a little time for a card game?”

“You know your mother would go ballistic if she caught you gambling,” Renee warned.
“I would stay for a game, but I don’t have time. Just remember Natalie, not a word about the Monarchist League to anyone unless Nadia or I say so. In the meantime, make certain you keep your sword close. The man who killed Bishop Vincent is stirring up trouble all over, and I hear he’s even targeting our kind in particular.”

Natalie guffawed, “He’s targeting claymores? Why, what did we ever do to him?”

“It’s because your mother condoned the overthrow of the church’s rule,” Renee explained. “So make certain you keep safe and always be armed.”

“Okay,” Natalie agreed. “You’re leaving now?”

“I just stopped by to say goodbye and to warn you,” Renee stated. “Keep your eyes on the lookout for suspicious types.”

Renee left the room and left Natalie in a melancholy funk. She decided to get out of it by visiting Claire and Raki’s house, which was a mere two minutes walk away. She arrived to find a rather plain two-story home with a black gable roof. It had red siding, and its window frames and doors were painted a rich, contrasting white. She’d left Dabi back at the manor, as Claire had been furious with her for bringing over the tiger cub while her twins were around.

Raki was out in the yard under a tree working on a wood-working project. The twins, Victor and Teresa, were playing nearby just as the rain stopped. Each was dressed in identical blue baby dresses, at which Natalie giggled.

Raki stopped sawing and looked over, smiling, “Bonjour! Are you here to play with the twins?”

Natalie was about to answer when there was a series of screams. Raki put his saw down immediately and ran for his sword. He picked it up as the twins looked on in obvious confusion.

“Natalie, look after the twins, I’m going to find out what’s going on,” Raki shouted.

Raki ran off in the direction dozens of screaming maids were coming from. Natalie suddenly found herself alone with the twins.

A maid ran by screaming, “There are rapscallions, dozens of them! Flee for your lives!”

Natalie made up her mind and picked up the twins, of whom Victor had already begun crying at the commotion. Natalie rushed them back towards the safety of the manor, or at least what she thought was the safety of the manor. There, atop its porch, Natalie saw a male servant fighting off an armed assailant with a crude spear.

Natalie wished she could help, but the silver-eyed toddlers screaming in her arms made that impossible. Thankfully the servant beat off the attacker. Natalie turned west to go back to Raki’s house when she saw another rapscallion. He was threatening to run through a terrified servant girl with his sword when Natalie set down the toddlers.

“Don’t move, okay,” she told them.

She tore off and decapitated the man before the screaming girl.

Natalie tried to reassure the girl, “It’s going to be okay—“

However the girl renewed her screaming, this time at the sight of the bloody, headless corpse at her feet.

A man shouted, “There they are, there’s the demon twins!”

Natalie felt a knot of fear rip into her as she turned. A half dozen rapscallions, armed with swords, were charging towards the oblivious silver-eyed twins. Natalie ignored the safe, screaming servant girl and charged to save the twins. It was a close thing, as she just managed to throw her sword and kill the first rapscallion right as he was about to kill Teresa.

“She’s unarmed,” another shouted as his comrade crumpled, “kill her now!”

Something whizzed by, narrowly missing Natalie’s torso. There was a yell, and Natalie turned to see the servant girl crumple, having been shot by a bolt. Natalie turned around barely in time to see a man aim a sword slash at her. She ducked underneath, and with a kick Renee taught her, kicked upwards, utterly smashing his jaw. He fell, dead, right before the screaming, crying twins.

Natalie drew a knife to deflect the downward slash of yet another attacker. Instead of kicking him, she simply flung the knife into his neck. He crumpled, grasping futilely at his throat, and hit the ground. Natalie noticed the bolt-shooter was reloading yet another lethal bolt onto his weapon. Unfortunately there were three other rapscallions to slow her down.

Natalie rolled under and through one man’s leg to dodge his attack. She scrambled and picked up her blade. This she wielded in two fluid horizontal slashes and brought down two assailants. The third held back and then turned to run. Unfortunately there was still the bolt-shooter.

Natalie heard a whistling, and suddenly felt a stinging impact in her left shoulder. The breath was driven from her, and she slumped to her knees. She tried to get up with her left arm, but it scarcely moved. It took time to scramble to her feet, and she paid for it dearly. A second bolt hit her square in the chest. It pierced her right breast, went through the lung, and its arrowhead pierced out her back.

“Aggh,” Natalie cried out.

She saw the shooter reloading and knew she’d be finished if he got a few more shots into any vital areas. She got up, all while in excruciating pain, and charged the dark-haired man. The smile on his face from earlier vanished.

The man screamed, “Why the hell won’t you demons just die?!?”

Natalie closed the distance as the man reloaded. A jolt of fear went through her as he cocked the weapon and raised it to fire. He suddenly was cut down from behind. The man slumped over to reveal Claire in her fighting outfit alongside the hairbun-wearing Valencia.

Valencia rushed forward to Natalie’s side to help her.

“Oh no, you’re a mess,” Valencia sighed. “This steel bolt shattered your left collarbone, and the other one is straight through your lungs.”

Almost as if to emphasize the point, Natalie felt something coming up her throat. She kneeled on the ground and hacked out blood.

“Hold on, I’ll pull them out,” Valencia stated.

“Wait, wait,” Natalie said, holding out her right arm, “can’t you break them in two?”

“Not a steel bolt Natalie,” Valencia stated, her navy-blue outfit covered in blood. “Alright, hold still and bite down on this.”

Natalie found a circular wooden stick put in her mouth and bit down. Valencia gave a vigorous tug on one bolt. It came out with excruciating pain, as did the other. Natalie handed back the now-smashed stick. She was slowly healing, but at least she would live.

Natalie heard Raki’s voice behind her reassuring the twins, “It’s okay my preciousness’, daddy’s here.”

Natalie turned to see the very tall Raki pick up the twins, each soon quieting their crying as he wrapped them in his reassuring embrace. Claire in contrast was barely moving, and was in fact leaning over a nearby picket fence.

Natalie walked over with Valencia to Claire’s side.

“Hey Claire,” Valencia stated, slapping Claire lightly on the back, “what’s the—“

The next moment Claire hurled onto the ground.

They both stepped back as Raki rushed up with the twins to Claire’s side.

“Claire, sweety,” he said, “are you ok?”

Claire turned her head just enough to look at her husband, “No, I’m not okay, because I’m pregnant.”

Raki’s chance to reply was stolen by the approach of over a company of Toulousan troops. Natalie and everyone else present looked over to see them rush past them.

“Secure the manor and the servant quarters,” an officer shouted. The infantry troops, wearing full armor, spread and began systematically searching the whole area.

Raki asked his wife, “Claire, why didn’t you say something earlier?!?”

“I didn’t know,” Claire stated, “that’s why!”

“Come on dear, we’ve got to get you and the twins someplace safe,” Raki stated.

“Rabona,” Claire murmured.

“Alright, we’ll go find a safe place in Rabona until this blows over,” he agreed.

The two walked off, with Raki carrying both twins and the visibly nauseated Claire leaning on her husband as they walked towards the northern docks.

Natalie sniffed in amusement as she heard Claire say, “I’ve got terrible craving for pickles. Could you get me some?”

Natalie couldn’t quite hear Raki’s response as they walked off, but she knew he was the type to cater to appeasing his wife.

Valencia walked up to the Toulousan officer, who was wearing armor and had curly, dark hair and an attractive face.

Valencia hissed, “Just where in the world have you been Jean?”

“I’ve been busy putting down these attacks,” he stated incredulously. “Come on Valencia dear, you can’t seriously expect me to be available when there’s a war.”

Natalie recognized the officer: it was Captain Jean-Paul Murat, one of the four original captains of Rabona’s Holy Guards army. He alone of the originals had not yet been promoted or elevated to a higher post. He had once been Renee’s subordinate as Natalie recalled.

Valencia huffed, poking Murat in an armored shoulder, “I’m not talking about today; I’m talking about the previous two. Where were you?!?”

Murat sighed, “Valencia, my darling fiancée, I’m sorry, but my parents demanded I show up for my granduncle’s birthday.”

This response however provoked the response opposite the one Murat desired.
Valencia huffed, “So I’m less important than your granduncle’s birthday?!?”

Murat put his hands up placatingly, “No, of course not dear. Valencia, pumpkin, I’ve got to get back to my men and my duties.”

Valencia sighed and watched him hurry back to his company, “God I love him. You know Natalie, speaking of coupling, whatever happened to that Pierre boy I heard hit on you?”

Natalie sighed, “I haven’t seen him since because Nadia thought he was behaving badly.”

Valencia smiled, “Well, if you ever get married, just make certain to follow Nadia’s marriage advice.”

Natalie frowned, “That would be what?”

“Screw him so hard he’ll never want to fuck another girl in his life,” Valencia profanely lectured to Natalie’s great shock. “Jean is going to be in for one wild wedding night, let me tell you. I’ve got a few moves planned that’ll blow his mind,” Valencia divulged.

“Uh, thanks for that,” Natalie stammered.

“No problem,” Valencia replied.

Valencia walked off someplace, leaving Natalie alone and slightly shocked.

“I think I understand what you were trying to say about Valencia, Renee,” Natalie sighed.

A maid walked up and broke her contemplation, “Are those evil men gone, my Lady?”

“Yes,” Natalie responded.

The maid ran off to tell her hidden peers while Natalie began thinking about something. Specifically she was bothered about something Murat had said about where he’d been earlier. She didn’t know what, but there was something off about his whole explanation.




The nun asked, “I just don’t understand…how can there be male claymores if you said the Organization deemed them too dangerous to create Sister Galatea?”

Galatea sighed, “Sister Ulrike,” she addressed the elderly nun, “I’m not sure, but I imagine they might’ve used different Yoma or selected cooler-headed individuals. That’s the only explanation I can think of for why the Romanow Empire’s embassy features four male claymores. I’ve talked briefly to Audrey, and she tells me they don’t even call themselves claymores. Apparently on the mainland our kind is known as slayers.”

“They certainly seem scary enough to deserve the name,” Ulrike agreed.

Galatea heard a mess of people come through the door to the Teresian Cathedral’s southwestern bell tower’s belfry. Although her vision was very poor, the gray and white shapes were generally feminine in shape.

Galatea asked, “What are so many nuns doing up here two hours before Friday services?”

“It’s terrible,” a young nun yelled.

Galatea identified the voice as belonging to the most excitable of the cathedral’s nuns, Angelica.

Galatea held up a hand, “I know Bishop Vincent is dead, but we must do our best to move on Sister Angelica.”

A whole bunch of nuns broke in at once, “But there are no priests in the entire cathedral!”

Another nun opened the belfry’s door, gasping for air, as she’d probably run up the hundreds of stairs to the belfry.

“Sister Impératrice,” the dozen or so nuns exclaimed, “why did you run up here?”

“They just found Father Mohr alive,” Impératrice gasped triumphantly. “We can do the services now that we’ve found a male priest and—“

Ulrike objected, “Father Mohr is a theological idiot. I’m sorry, but I don’t think he can manage to do the Friday services on his own.”

Galatea put a hand on Ulrike’s shoulder, “You should know better Sister Ulrike. Don’t you remember our holy book’s saying about saying slights about others?”

“I am not insulting him,” Ulrike said defensively, “I’m stating a matter of fact. Father Mohr is a terrible speaker, he gets his holy book passages confused, and he’s afraid of speaking in front of large groups. The LAST place we should put him is in front of the public!”

This statement however was guaranteed to set the other nuns’ tempers and opinions blazing. Galatea sighed as the shouts began flowing thick and fast.

“Oh, and I suppose you’re just the one to deliver the sermon,” Sister Beatrice shot back.

“I will resign the church before I see a WOMAN desecrating the altar,” Sister Angelica threatened. “There is no place for a woman before the—“

“Sisters,” Galatea interrupted, “it seems to me we don’t have a choice but to have Father Mohr involved in services. That said, I think we must involve ourselves in the service.”

“It is strictly forbidden for women to be priests,” Sister Impératrice snapped, “and it says so right here in the Holy Book!”

Galatea rebutted, “The third chapter of the Book of Teresa, verses 80 through 120 describing the priesthood never mentions that they must be men.”

“How would you know Sister Galatea,” Sister Angelica interrupted. “Aren’t you nearly blind and unable to read?”

“I read the Holy Book to her,” Sister Ulrike said, coming to Galatea’s defense. “Sister Galatea has memorized the Holy Book as if it were printed in her head.”

A new voice, that of the eldest Sister, Sabine, interrupted raspily, “Hold your arguments sisters of god. I’ve just read the passage Sister Galatea spoke of, and she’s right.”

“Thank you Sister Sabine,” Galatea replied. “Sisters it seems to me we have two choices. Either we can refuse to do the ceremony because all of the other male priests have gone on their foolish Inquisition, or we can spread the true word of god to the people. I feel not spreading the word of god would be an infinitely greater sin against god than having women spreading that word of god.”

“You’re just like Phantom Miria,” Angelica fired back. “You just want to seize power and—“

Sister Ulrike shot this statement down, “Sister Galatea fought Phantom Miria in defense of this very church. You should apologize to her now.”

Angelica instead left the belfry, slamming the door behind her.

“Whoever cannot agree with having some of us nuns delivering parts of the service may leave. I will not hold it against them if they wish to do so,” Sister Sabine stated.

Three more nuns left the belfry, muttering low things about the desecration of the faith. At last the door slammed shut, leaving what Galatea thought were roughly a dozen nuns.

Sister Sabine asked, “Shall we make Father Mohr our Bishop?”

“I have already said he is not fit for the post,” Ulrike criticized. “Since there is no male priest left, I suggest we make Sister Galatea the acting ‘Bishop of Rabona’.”

The storm of debate that followed lasted an exhausting hour and a half…




King Philippe sipped his tea with care as the Grand Alliance’s agent, the sunglass-wearing Rubel Louvre, sat down in his dark robes across the table.

“Your Majesty,” Rubel said, “why, may I ask, am I receiving reports of Grand Alliance-manufactured crossbows being used by Inquisition insurgents in the Dominion of Toulouse?”

They were seated in the Kingdom of Lautrec’s governing palace in Gonal, which sat on the northern shore of the western lands of Lautrec. Specifically, Philippe and Rubel were seated at a table in the Royal Hall, a room that featured a set of vast, arched windows looking out onto the sea. Two enormous fireplaces dominated opposite sides of the room, while tapestries, paintings, lounge chairs, sofas, bear rugs, mounted animal trophies, and fine carpets decorated the room appropriately.

Seated beside Philippe was his increasingly pregnant wife, the dark-haired beauty, Queen Violetta, wearing her usual red and gold royal dress. She sniffed in amusement at the Grand Alliance man’s line of questioning.

“You gave the Kingdom of Lautrec ten thousand crossbows,” Violetta pointed out, flicking a hand through her luscious, straight black hair, “and set no conditions upon their use.”

Rubel snapped, “The Grand Alliance demands to know why the very state we need to be strong against the empress is being weakened at such a—“

“Relax,” Violetta suggested. “His Majesty and I came to the conclusion that the only way to guarantee this island becomes a part of the Grand Alliance is to force a hard choice upon the Dominion of Toulouse.”

Rubel frowned, remaining silent for a few seconds before replying, “I’m beginning to see where you’re going with this. You know that the Kingdom of Lautrec does not have enough spare troops to conquer the Dominion of Toulouse.”

Philippe nodded, tapping the table with a silk glove, “That’s correct. The Kingdom of Lautrec’s forces currently number a little more than fifteen thousand troops, although within six months it’ll be up to twenty thousand. The Dominion of Toulouse in contrast already has twenty thousand troops at its disposal and a massively fortified capital city.”

Rubel seemed to be measuring them underneath his sunglasses, “You know you cannot win an all-out war with the Dominion, so you’ve secretly helped the Inquisition insurgents. Your goal is not for them to win, but for them to cause enough chaos for Lord Mayor Zaehringen to become desperate.”

Violetta smiled, “I do admire an intelligent man. Yes, our plan is for the insurgency to be just strong enough that the Dominion won’t have the military strength to end it. On the other hand, it won’t be nearly strong enough to actually threaten to take over the state. When Rabona finds it cannot gain victory, we’ll come to them with an offer.”

Rubel sniffed, “Let me guess, in exchange for your military help, you’ll ask that your countries be united under one flag. Even though the Council of Lords will not allow you two to become absolute monarchs, you’ll find a way to get rid of them. That still leaves the massive problem of dealing with Phantom Miria, Claire, and Claire’s husband, Raki. How do you plan to get them out of the way?”

King Philippe smiled, “Actually, we were hoping you could help us with that.”

Rubel’s lips tensed before he replied, “How so?”

Violetta smirked underneath her crown, “You wouldn’t happen to know where the Dominion is imprisoning the remaining Organization leaders, would you?”

[revan5]

Spoiler for "The Silver-eyed Empress" Chapter 6, part 1:

Chapter 6

Excerpt from “The History of the Romanow Empire”

There has been a great debate amongst historians as to who was behind the assassination attempt. Some will point to Sergei Djugashvili, allegedly the most ambitious and ruthless of “the six” stronger than the empress. Others controversially point their accusations at Sergei’s rival Wenceslaus, who they say showed signs of disaffection with the Romanow’s rule and may have wanted to usurp their power. A few historians even allege other female members of the six, including Indira and Minhe Choung-Park may have been behind the attack. The vast majority of historians attribute the attack to the Grand Alliance, which had much to gain from Kasia’s death.

According to Grand Alliance intelligence, she was part of the glue that held the imperial family together. Kasia was the peacemaker between the headstrong, militaristic Princess Bastia, and the temperamental, art-loving Crown Princess Rima. With Kasia dead, they figured the imperial family would fall apart into bitter in-fighting. They might have been right had the Romanow Empire not faced the threat of the Grand Alliance. The Grand Alliance never really gave themselves a chance to test their hypothesis, as they invaded as soon as they had news of the attack upon Kasia.

It was an invasion unprecedented in size, and given the Grand Alliance’s greater size than its rival, this invasion was surely an enormous threat to the Romanow Empire’s very existence. Two major thrusts were made on the northern and southern fronts. A third thrust was made between them a few days later, when the empire’s forces had already moved to counter the prior attacks. An army of over a million men under the command of three emperors and the chieftain of the draconic tribe rolled forward. Their target was nothing less than the new imperial capital of Praha.

The Grand Alliance also believed they had managed to cut off the empress with a small contingent far to the north, isolating her from command of the armed forces. This left Crown Princess Rima in command of the empire, a task she had never wanted nor was completely prepared to accept. Nevertheless she was competent enough, and aided by the more competent (but pregnant) Princess Bastia, she managed to rally the armed forces enough to slow down the enemy invasion.

Ultimately though the empire’s two most competent generals were engaged with the two other enemy armies and could not be spared. That left only one competent general but one Rima distrusted absolutely: Sergei Djugashvili. He was recalled to the capital, as was his rival Wenceslaus. Ultimately the only general brilliant enough to annihilate the enemy attack was in a coma: Princess Kasia. To save her life, Crown Princess Rima instructed Countess Dietrich Tuluzy to bring back a key aide of Wenceslaus’ who might be able to awaken Kasia in time…




Dietrich prodded her gray horse, Gooral, into a gallop, as she approached the red-roofed small city. She slowed down upon reaching the stone road, where Gooral’s horseshoes might come off if she weren’t careful. She passed by a small line of traveling merchants and their carts and then passed underneath the city gate. She jumped off the horse and landed atop the cobblestones and looked around. She looked very distinctive in her black and gold riding outfit. It featured long brown boots, a black top and semi-skirt, and dark gray trousers.

“Well, look at this, you’re coming back a Countess,” a female voice remarked.

A lone female slayer dressed in black leather and a few pieces of armor was walking up. This slayer was taller than Dietrich, had a more athletic build, short brown-blond hair, two strands of long bangs to either side of her forehead, and a hawkish nose.

“Alevtina,” Dietrich answered, walking up to hug her former comrade, “it is good to see you again! Where is Wenceslaus?”

“Busy like usual,” Alevtina replied, “why are you here now Dietrich?”

“I’m here because he was summoned and supposed to be in Praha days ago,” Dietrich snapped. “Crown Princess Rima started yelling at me about why he wasn’t there yet to help her.”

“Why would the—“

Dietrich started walking right past Alevtina and into the streets of Seville, Wenceslaus’ hometown. It didn’t feature many buildings over four stories tall, but it had a quaint and rustic appeal to it she liked. Dietrich led on Gooral by the reins as the sparse crowds parted and Alevtina rushed to follow.

“What’s going on Dietrich?”

“The entire empire’s being invaded by over two million men, that’s what’s going on,” Dietrich snapped. “To make matters worse, Princess Kasia was attacked by an assassin and needs our immediate aid.”

Alevtina quickly led Dietrich towards where Wenceslaus was working, looking edgy and apprehensive upon hearing of the all-out invasion by the Grand Alliance. They climbed Seville’s largest hill for several minutes to find its top a hive of construction. Everywhere they went, scaffolding, hammering, bricklaying, and mortar mixing was apparent. At the very pinnacle of Seville, sitting beside a table and working on a large map, was Wenceslaus.

He was rather unusual for a mainland warrior in Dietrich’s opinion. He was about the same height of James Havel, but more strongly built. His face featured a vertical scar across it, the slash just barely missing the right eye. Rather more unusually he had a well-trimmed beard, which was darker than his hair, which looked like brown bleached of its color.

Wenceslaus was not wearing a nobleman’s uniform, but rather the outfit of a construction foreman. He had a long-sleeved white shirt on, a sleeveless gray jacket over that, and also wore dark gray trousers and brown boots. The only clues to his hybrid nature were his hair and a pair of insightful silver eyes.

“Alright,” Wenceslaus said in a deep voice, “I want a team of workmen starting on the first dormitory first thing tomorrow morning.”

Wenceslaus was an intimidating figure up close, although Dietrich’s experience with him eased her worries as she approached. He glanced up, looking her straight in the eyes without a smile.

“Your Grace,” Dietrich said, making a small bow, “I came back because—“

“You see Wenceslaus,” Alevtina interrupted, “you leave her in the Romanow’s nest for a month and already she’s talking like one of them.”

“Do you mind Alevtina?!? I’m here because the empire’s under an all-out attack,” Dietrich snapped.

“Alright, alright,” Wenceslaus said, putting a hand up, “let’s not get over formal or snappy about this. Why does the Cesarzowa need me? I’ve already rescinded the marriage proposal after those ghastly executions weeks ago.”

“You what?!?”

Wenceslaus stroked his beard briefly, “I sent the empress my regrets, but I’m not marrying a woman who is going to kill her prisoners without giving them a proper trial.”

“Oh,” Dietrich exclaimed. “Um, Your Grace, here’s—“

“Dietrich,” Wenceslaus said, grabbing her by the shoulders with both hands, “I don’t want to be called by any honorific. You know what I told you about the Romanows, don’t you?”

“They’re just a bunch of strong claymores who seized power and gave themselves titles?”

“Precisely,” Wenceslaus agreed. “Now why are you so frantic to see me?”

Dietrich had forgotten how laid-back, relaxed, and soothing Wenceslaus’ personality could be. Princess Kasia could best be described as the opposite. Wherever she’d gone, Kasia had brought excitement, energy, anxiety, and passion to the environment. Wenceslaus in contrast was a calming presence. Crown Princess Rima liked to relax the way Wenceslaus did, but she was far more temperamental.

“It’s this,” Dietrich said, having to check her urge to add “sir” on the end.

She handed Wenceslaus an imperial message that came directly from the hands of Crown Princess Rima. Dietrich knew it told Wenceslaus in no uncertain terms he had to come to Praha immediately. It also said his help was badly needed and the empire was in a terrible crisis since being invaded. However it omitted the crucial details about the empress being cut off from the vast majority of the empire and Princess Kasia being put into a coma.

Wenceslaus asked, “Why is this coming from Rima and not Katarzyna?”

“The Cesarzowa was cut off from communicating with the vast majority of the Romanow Empire when the Grand Alliance invaded,” Dietrich explained. “So the Crown Princess is in command for the moment. The Crown Princess thinks you can help her awaken Princess Kasia from her coma.”

“Hold it,” Wenceslaus exclaimed, “since when was Kasia in a coma?!?”

“Since an assassin attempted to kill her with a sedative-tipped knife a week and a half ago,” Dietrich explained. “Rima says Kasia will die if you don’t help awaken her. She also says if you don’t agree to come immediately she’ll send Princess Bastia to make sure you do.”

“How lovely of her,” Wenceslaus said with evident sarcasm.

“Please, you have to help Wenceslaus, Kasia’s our best hope. She’s the best remaining general we have to face their main army,” Dietrich pleaded.

Wenceslaus queried, “You like this Kasia a lot, do you?”

“I like Kasia because she’d have made a great empress,” Dietrich explained.

Wenceslaus went silent upon hearing this, seeming to be in deep thought.

“You know Kasia was the one who ordered the deaths of those one hundred slayers who fought against the empress,” Wenceslaus pointed out.

“I know she’s not a saint,” Dietrich sighed, “but if it weren’t for Kasia I wouldn’t be alive. I owe her at least my best effort to save her life in return for—“

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean she had the Silver Guard protect me. The assassin who tried to kill me was the same one who put Kasia into a coma with a sedative-tipped blade. Rima thinks the silver-eyed slayer who did it was working for the Grand Alliance, but I—“

Wenceslaus interrupted, “Someone attempted to kill you and you didn’t tell me?!?”

“I meant to send you a message, but I got too busy,” Dietrich explained. “The assassin turned out to be one of my ex-comrades named Raftela. She told me I had to die because of my mission—“

“We’re leaving immediately for Praha,” Wenceslaus declared abruptly.

“Already?!? But why did you change your mind so quickly?”




“Man,” James said, looking over himself, “I look like a damn peacock.”

James was dressed in a pair of long brown boots, and a frilly white undershirt. He was commenting however on the puffy black jacket he was wearing. It had long black sleeves, but James was more annoyed about the frilly, puffy shoulder bulges. To make matters worse he was wearing a whimsical black hat with golden feathers atop it in a massive plume. It made him downright embarrassed to be walking around in broad daylight.

“Well I think you look like a gentleman,” a strong female voice interrupted.

Kasia was seated not far away at a single white table in the midst of an open meadow. She was wearing a strikingly beautiful black and gold-embroidered dress. Atop her head was the pointy ornamental hat she’d only recently gotten with a massive blue sapphire in its center and diamonds arranged in a flower pattern around it. It had two edges that pointed outwards to either side, giving her a grand, exaggerated presence.

James sighed, “If you say so Kasia.”

Kasia brought a black-gloved hand up to her left cheek’s makeup-disguised scar and sighed. The rest of her outfit was just as grandiose as her ornamental hat. Her dress featured long sleeves that lengthened as the sleeves got further out on her arm. The dress was also fairly tight against her upper body, showing her fine curves to advantage. The bottom of the dress was more flowing in nature. It featured gorgeous gold embroidery throughout that seemed to emphasize her new status.

“Why are you making this so difficult for me James?”

“I want to believe I did the right thing,” James bluntly answered.

“Why is it so hard for you to agree with what I did? We did it for Katarzyna’s sake James. You know the alliance’s High Command weren’t a bunch of saints. They created the Awakened Being program, they unleashed those horrific Abyss Feeders, they—“

“They created the silver-eyed slayer program,” James pointed out. “You and I wouldn’t—“

“You’re not angry about that James, and you damn well know it. This is about Lillian,” Kasia shouted, standing up imperiously. “I want to know right now James, do I have your love or does Lillian have your love?”

James gave Kasia his answer by kissing her full on the lips. Her hat fell off into the grass below as his hands pressed against her back and felt her long, luscious, wavy blond hair. Kasia returned the kiss with some passion, her hands naughtily grabbing his well-muscled ass. She leaned into him and abruptly he fell onto his back with Kasia atop him.

Everything went black as his mind wandered onto yet another memory…

“I’m asking for you to be merciful to her,” James pleaded, completely nude except for a white nightshirt.

He was sitting atop a massive black-and-gold sheeted canopy bed, which was surrounded on all sides by black and gold-embroidered drapes. Kasia, wearing only her short, cleavage and nipple-revealing black and gold-embroidered nightgown was sitting in bed before him. Her face was an emotionless mask for a moment as she flicked some of her long bangs out of her eyes.

Then, in one continuous, silky move, Kasia extended her right arm and delivered a hellishly strong slap to his face.

“I’m getting really pissed off with all this Lillian talk James,” Kasia hissed as he gaped in surprise. “What the hell do I have to do for you? I give you every nice gift you’ve ever wanted, I’ve been sleeping with you for the last two and a half years, and here you are not able to stop talking about Lillian…again!”

“It’s just I feel it’s my fault she’s—“

Kasia’s temper continued, “It is NOT your damn fault James. You did the right thing, so quit feeling guilty about it. She got too clever for her own good; if she’d stayed away from our coup she wouldn’t be in prison right now!”

“It’s just that you know she isn’t evil Kasia,” James sighed. “She wasn’t doing anything morally wrong when she tried to stop the coup.”

“You mean when she tried to kill me,” Kasia corrected. “She tried to turn you against me, she killed four Silver Guards, and she brought Victoria McKenzie and her entire squad on top of that to stop us! If Bastia wasn’t there I’m not sure there’d have been anyone on either side alive at the end of it.”

“Was the status quo back then so bad that—“

Kasia thundered in aggravation, “Have you completely forgotten about the amoral idiots we had in High Command? They were losing the war; they spent more time on hunting and bickering amongst themselves than directing our forces. We did what we had to James; killing them and unifying the alliance into an empire.”

“Unifying the alliance? Aren’t there—“

A new yoki presence was now very close; thankfully it was also very familiar.

Kasia turned around in bed, “Oh Commander Tymoshenko, just put it down on the bed.”

A female Silver Guard appeared near the canopy bed in the dark imperial bedroom. She was wearing a cuirass over her torso, a pair of massive pauldrons over her shoulders, partial plate armor on her legs and arms, and had a beautifully sculpted helmet that barely showed her eyes and nose. She cut an intimidating figure, even though she was shorter than Kasia. She had brown skin, and a single blond ponytail fell out of her helmet.

“Katja?”

Katja glanced over at him and then turned her eyes upwards.

Katja pleaded, “Mister Havel, can you PLEASE put some pants or covers on?”

James blushed as he realized she’d just seen him nude from the waist down. He quickly grabbed a couple of covers and threw them over his body. Katja, with eyes still staring upwards, dropped a bunch of heavy armor onto the enormous bed next to Kasia.

James asked, “What’s this?”

“Your duratium armor,” Katja answered while visibly blushing at him.

James stammered, “But that’s—“

Kasia smiled, “Well, since you protected me, I thought you deserved some greater thanks. I convinced Bastia that you would make a good second-in-command to Katja. I know each set of duratium armor is worth as much as a small city, but I think it’s worth it. You may leave Katja.”

Katja turned to leave after smartly saluting when Kasia thought of something else.

“Oh, and Katja, don’t you dare breathe a word about James and me being together to Princess Bastia,” Kasia warned.

“Of course I won’t,” Katja reassured.

Katja left them quietly and a few moments later the far bedroom door closed with a click.

Kasia grabbed a beautiful helmet and put it on his head, sighing as she smiled.

“You’ll always protect me, won’t you James?”

“I swear I’ll never you let come to harm Kasia,” he promised.

His memory faded into black again as an overwhelming number of confusing noises and sounds, none loud, seemed to go past him. One of them began to solidify around him. He was waking up in a very familiar Praha Palace bed colored black and gold. It was Kasia’s bed, and he felt fear take him as he suddenly got up. Kasia was there, not more than a dozen meters away talking to someone.

“Lillian, aren’t you dead?”

James’ heart skipped a beat at hearing “Lillian” from Kasia’s lips. He sat up and glanced over from Kasia towards where the standing Kasia was staring. There, moving with the silky silence of a predatory cat was a woman in black clothing and a mask. James frantically tossed the covers off as the intruder drew a long knife.

“I…I wanted you to become one of us, a Romanow,” Kasia stated, holding her arms out as if to hug the intruder. “But you killed four of my followers, and…”

“Kasia, no, that’s not Lillian!”

Kasia continued holding out her arms as if he hadn’t said a word. James frantically jumped out of bed and raced towards the intruder as they rushed towards Kasia. The female intruder had silver eyes, and was holding out the knife for a lethal stab into Kasia’s head. He pushed himself and jumped, intercepting the attacker in mid-air. She had lost the knife by the time they hit the hardwood floor.

He heard a surprised yelp from behind him; Kasia had just been snapped out of her attacker’s yoki manipulation. The intruder suddenly drew a curved blade and attempted to slash him. He jumped back enough to dodge, and then he rushed to the nearby sofa and grabbed Kasia’s personal claymore sword. The intruder swung down, which he blocked with ease. He countered with a vicious horizontal slash, which the intruder jumped over.
They landed behind him and were running straight for Kasia with their blade drawn. He twisted to pursue but it wouldn’t be in time.

Kasia screamed for help, “Guards, guards, there’s an assassin!”

The imperial bedroom’s bronze doors smashed down behind Kasia as a dozen of his fellow Silver Guards charged in. The intruder froze for a moment and then changed directions away from him and towards the balcony. He rushed to Kasia’s side as the Silver Guards charged past. A pair of Silver Guards rushed up to his side as he kneeled next to Kasia.
Time seemed to slow in excruciating fashion as he noticed a knife hilt stuck in Kasia’s left shoulder. Kasia’s black nightgown began to stain red around the hilt.

“Nnnnooooooo!!!!!”

James snapped awake breathing hard, his heart pounding and adrenaline coursing through his veins. He lifted his head off a large white-sheeted bed to find Kasia sleeping in its center. Her chest was barely moving as she slowly breathed. She was still in a deep coma from the strong sedatives that had been on the intruder’s blade. He was in Kasia’s convalescence chambers, which, as he was reminded a moment later, were full of others.

“What the hell James,” a familiar voice snapped, “I barely got in the room and you’re already screaming.”

He turned to find a tall, familiar female mere steps away escorted by nearly a dozen Silver Guards. She wore the armor of the Silver Guard, but did not wear a helmet. She had arched eyebrows, an attractive face with a long forehead, piercing silver eyes, long, straight blond hair, and expensive ruby earrings. It was none other than his old former squadmate, Rima.

“Your Imperial Highness,” he stammered, rising to his feet while knocking over his chair.

“Lieutenant Commander,” Crown Princess Rima addressed him, “for pity’s sake, go to bed. She’s not going to wake up any sooner even with you at her side for three days straight.”

He rose to leave Kasia’s side in the small art-adorned room, which made navigating past the Crown Princess’ escorts difficult. He was nearly to the door when the Crown Princess made a passing comment.

“Oh, and James,” Rima said.

He turned to see her looking at him without a smile.

“I know you seduced her,” she stated flatly.

“I did nothing of the sort…Your Imperial Highness,” he added, realizing he couldn’t speak to Rima like a comrade anymore.

“Cut the bullshit James,” Rima snapped. “We both know you lusted after her, and we both know she was vulnerable to it. You put the entire imperial family at risk because you couldn’t hold it in.”

“But she was the one who wanted the—“

“No she wasn’t,” Rima interrupted. “I’ll be deciding your fate later; about the only thing running in your favor is you stopped her dying in the immediate attack. Now leave us.”

He left the room nearly in tears; Rima, despite her hidden sympathetic nature, had rigidly followed the line on the political impossibility of him being involved with Kasia. He had told Rima the truth, but his past behavior was still hurting his testimony in the present. The truth was that in the week after the coup Kasia had asked that he stay by her side and sleep with her. He could hardly say no, especially to Kasia, but Rima would never believe that considering how brashly he’d pursued Kasia in years past.

He smashed a closed fist into the side of the palace hall’s marble walls in frustration. It seemed he was cursed to problems when it came to love. He’d pursued Kasia for years, but she’d shown no interest in sleeping with him. After awhile his certainty that she was “meant to be” had faltered. Then Kasia had been promoted out of the squad, leaving him in despair.

Lillian proved more than willing to give him a—

“Good morning Lieutenant Commander,” a cultured female voice addressed him.

High overhead a series of arched stained windows let in colored light into the large, expansive hall. The light fell down in heavenly rays upon the female slayer who had addressed him. She wore a black and gold-embroidered dress much like the Cesarzowa’s. James’ heart fluttered as he realized who was walking towards him.

She wore no ornamental hat, but instead had her blond hair fixed into a large, ornate bun atop her head. Unlike Rima and Kasia, her face had not even the slightest imperfection. She had perfect cheekbones, paler skin than the bronze-skinned Rima, a regal nose, and a strutting arrogance to her strides. She was considerably shorter than Rima and Kasia, but she was also less lanky and better proportioned.

She looked like the perfect princess, except for the large pregnancy bump in her middle. She also had ornate black and white pearl earrings that gave her an especially wealthy appearance. There was only one pregnant member of the imperial family: the cultured, militaristic, arrogant and ruthless Princess Bastia.

“Your Imperial Highness, Princess Bastia, it is a great relief to—“

Bastia scoffed, “Is it really James? We catch you red-handed in Kasia’s bedroom and you failed to protect her at the most crucial moment. As far as I care, you can hand in your commission in the Silver Guards today.”

“That is not your decision to make,” Rima’s voice interjected.

James swiveled to find Crown Princess Rima walking up in her armor with a number of aides. He knew immediately why Rima had objected upon hearing Bastia’s threat; Rima and Bastia were legendary for their mutual dislike of one another.

Bastia silkily left an air of menace in her voice, “May I ask why not?”

A well-dressed slayer with corn-rowed blond hair and dark skin rushed up between the two. He held up his hands as Bastia frowned and the taller Rima scowled.

“Your Imperial Highness,” he said to Rima, then turned to Bastia, “Bastia my dear, please, now is not the time to have a row over a mere Silver Guard.”

“Who will be demoted, I assure you,” Rima promised, which made James flinch.

“Why do you go easy on such scoundrels when he deserves—“

Things might have deteriorated between the two but for the exceptional timing of a messenger in a black-and-gold military tunic. He rushed up just as Bastia was saying her inflammatory words and made a quick bow.

“Your Imperial Highnesses,” he said, bowing at the waist, “Duke Wenceslaus and his aides have just arrived.”




“I hope you’re right Duke Wenceslaus,” Crown Princess Rima sighed.

Dietrich stood back in a puffy red gown her paramour, Jaroslaw Tusk, had given her. They were in Kasia’s small convalescence room, which was stuffed full of people. Rima, the pregnant Princess Bastia, Wenceslaus, Alevtina, herself, a dozen Silver Guards in full armor, and even a few nurses tending the unconscious Princess Kasia. It left very little room for anyone to move around as they got close to the Kasia’s bedside.

“Duke Wenceslaus,” Dietrich said, knowing that being informal around the imperial family would go down badly, “are you sure you wouldn’t want to do this yourself?”

Wenceslaus, wearing a more proper dark gray jacket and black trousers, scoffed, “Someone with as much Yoma energy as me would only endanger the process of waking her from a deep coma. Those who are going to enter Kasia’s mind must have much less Yoma energy than hers, otherwise we’ll only push her beyond her limits.”

Rima asked, “Are you quite sure these two are the best people for the task?”

Rima was looking at Dietrich and the less gaudily dressed Alevtina. They, due to some experience in intensive yoki manipulation in the past two years, had been assigned to the task of waking Kasia from her coma. Dietrich was less than confident in accomplishing the task, but Alevtina, who was far more experienced, was supposed to be the primary worker in the task. Dietrich would only be there to make certain Alevtina didn’t lose consciousness and soul-link into Kasia’s consciousness.

Wenceslaus, now clean-shaven after Dietrich’s advice that this would make him seem younger and less threatening, sighed.

“I cannot guarantee you that Alevtina will be able to wake her up Crown Princess,” Wenceslaus pointed out.

Rima snapped, “How long will it take to succeed?”

“I have no idea,” Wenceslaus admitted, “I’ve never had them awaken a warrior from a coma before. They’ve stopped people from awakening, helped others heal through yoki synchronization, and—“

“We can understand the hazards just fine Duke Wenceslaus,” Bastia stated, an apprehensive air now in Bastia’s voice.

It had not occurred to Dietrich before just how Bastia and Rima could stand being part of the same family. The worried looks and uncharacteristic pleading tones in both Rima and Bastia’s voices reminded her of one person they both loved: Kasia. It was possible that the one thing that kept them from having more spats was the very real possibility of Kasia’s disapproval.

“I’m going to need as many people to leave so I can enter Princess Kasia’s yoki safely,” Alevtina declared. “Princess Bastia, I’m not sure of the risks, but I don’t want the yokis of your twins anywhere in the room.”

The pregnant Bastia flinched and looked at the unconscious, brown-skinned Kasia and let out a big sigh. She left the room without an objection, followed shortly thereafter by her dark-skinned fiancée and all of the Silver Guards but one: James Havel.

Alevtina continued prodding people to leave, “Duke Wenceslaus, Your Imperial Highness,” she addressed Wenceslaus and Rima, “I can’t have people with such strong Yoma energy anywhere nearby. I need everything to be as sterile around Princess Kasia as possible.”

Rima, who was visibly biting her lips, left with an anxious look back as two human nurses stayed beside Kasia. Wenceslaus followed, and Dietrich noticed he hadn’t been armed the whole time. James Havel looked as if he were about to faint from the tension, but Alevtina didn’t object to his presence.

Dietrich asked, “Lieutenant Commander Havel, why are you still here?”

“I’m an excellent yoki sensor,” he explained.

“Dietrich, we’ll count down from ten to my mark. When you reach that mark, you’ll close your eyes with me and we’ll start intruding into Princess Kasia’s yoki,” the short-haired Alevtina instructed. “Just keep as calm as you can.”

Dietrich found that harder than it sounded, as she realized Kasia’s life was solely in their hands and she’d never done such a task before.

Alevtina began counting from ten in the empire’s tongue, “Dziesięć, dziewięć, osiem, siedem, sześć, pięć, cztery, trzy, dwa, jeden, znak!”

Dietrich closed her eyes and felt the ordinary world sweep away as she delved into the dark of the yoki world. She could sense Alevtina’s modest yoki like a light burning at the same intensity before her. Behind was the flickering, nervous light that was James’ yoki. Try as Dietrich could, she couldn’t detect Kasia’s yoki, despite the very small distance between them. Reflexively she reached out with her physical hand and found Kasia’s hand.

She detected a very faint flicker and approached it gingerly. She brushed it with a stroke of her Yoma energy, and abruptly it began burning several times as bright. She frantically used an even more delicate touch to caress Kasia’s yoki into a less excited state. It was now stronger and constant, but still didn’t show the slightest sign of being pro-active like that of a conscious warrior’s yoki.

Alevtina’s yoki grasped at Kasia’s more revealed yoki carefully, seemingly trying to open it to inspection. Dietrich saw an opening in the yoki towards a softer light in its center and made the plunge. An overwhelming amount of lights and sounds flashed before Dietrich, and alarmingly she could no longer find herself in the darkness and lights of the yoki world. She realized she had to wake up immediately and opened her eyes.

She found herself staring up at Rima, although this Rima seemed younger and less mature somehow. She was also wearing a full-body black leather outfit underneath a simple steel cuirass. To these Rima added a pair of gaunlets over her lower arms and hands, some hanging tassets over her upper legs, and a simple, open-faced steel helmet in one arm.

“Morning, Kasia,” Rima addressed Dietrich.

Dietrich tried to say she wasn’t Kasia, but the words never came. Instead she felt her mouth utter something else in a very different voice than her own, “Dzień dobry! Are we going to hit that valley fortress today Rima?”

“I don’t know,” Rima smiled, “that’s up to Commander O’Malley. Come on Kasia, up you get.”

Rima pulled her up as Dietrich’s eyes took in much longer legs than she now possessed.

Dietrich felt a raw fear rip through her conscious self as she realized she was in Kasia’s memories. She must have accidentally soul-linked with Kasia Romanowa. If she didn’t figure a way to get out in three weeks, she’d end up dying asleep right next to the unconscious Kasia…




James noticed in alarm, as he sensed the yokis of Dietrich and Alevtina, that something was off. Kasia’s yoki had just spiked and then suddenly fallen, while Alevtina’s yoki was radiating distress and concern. Dietrich’s yoki on the other hand…

The door to Kasia’s convalescence room was smashed open, with James turning to see the burly, scarred, pale-skinned Wenceslaus enter. He was followed by the squawking objections of Crown Princess Rima and every single Silver Guard he could imagine.

Wenceslaus looked in alarm over at Dietrich, whose closed eyes showed movement. They seemed to be rolling upwards under the eyelids, and a moment later the red gown-wearing Dietrich dropped face-first upon the bed.

Wenceslaus shouted at Alevtina as Rima tried to hold him back, “What’s going on with Dietrich? Why is her yoki disappearing?!?”

The pixie-haired, long-banged Alevtina snapped her eyes open, “She’s accidentally soul-linked with Princess Kasia, now get—“

“Get out of the room and let her work,” Rima shouted at Wenceslaus, struggling mightily with four different Silver Guards to hold him back. “I’m going to—“

Wenceslaus ordered the stress-looking Alevtina, “Get her out of the soul-link then!”

“She can’t do that without killing both of them,” James shouted, cutting off Wenceslaus’ approach to Kasia’s bed as the human nurses looked on in alarm. “If your yoki gets any closer they might—“

At this moment a svelte, long blond-haired man in red and yellow robes rushed into the room and yanked Wenceslaus back by the collar. Wenceslaus went flying backwards, along with Crown Princess Rima and the four Silver Guards. They landed against the far wall of the hall as the man quickly left the room.

James looked at Alevtina, who shook her head.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got everything stabilized, just keep all warriors out of the room while I work,” Alevtina shouted. “I think I can get them out of the soul-link and conscious in just under three weeks, but it’s going to be a close race.”

Out in the hallway a veritable shouting match was going on, with James having no doubt as to whom the newcomer could be.

“You sentimental old fool,” the newcomer said. “What did you think you would gain by endangering the Princess and your aide? Was it so necessary to find out what was happening?!?”

The newcomer stood a little shorter than Wenceslaus, and had his long hair flowing to just past the shoulders. He was considerably leaner than the burly Wenceslaus, who was grudgingly rising to his feet and scowling. Whereas Wenceslaus had an unrefined air to him, made especially obvious by the vertical sword scar on the right side of his face, the newcomer was much the opposite.

“Sergei,” Wenceslaus hissed in his deep, gruff voice, “what are you doing here?”

James walked out into the hall and helped Crown Princess Rima to her feet.

“Saving you from accidentally killing a princess who lays golden eggs,” Sergei sniffed, an amused smile upon his flawless face. “I was invited here by Her Supreme Imperial Majesty weeks ago in order for her to decide between us.”

Rima grabbed her imperial hat and rose to her impressive height, standing only slightly taller than Sergei and slightly shorter than his rival, the burly, unrefined Wenceslaus.

“That is not going to happen again,” Rima declared, dusting off her hat as her maids frantically combed through her now-messy hair. “Tymoshenko, if either of these two tries to get into my little sister’s chambers again, you can use force to stop them.”

The brown-skinned commander of the Silver Guard nodded and motioned to her subordinates, who lined either side of the door to Kasia’s room.

“James, tell me what the hell just happened,” the Crown Princess demanded.

“Countess Tuluzy, the Hrabina, she went for an opening in Princess Kasia’s yoki and accidentally soul-linked with her,” James explained.

“Your Imperial Highness,” Sergei said, walking forward, “I’m sorry for throwing you backwards, but if you had only waited for my expert aides—“

“Can they get my little sister out of a soul-link safely?”

Sergei bit his lip, “Well, Your Imperial Highness, if they had—“

The Crown Princess cut him off, “If they can’t help Alevtina now, then don’t bother me about it! The two of you, Dukes Djugashvili and Wenceslaus, will be helping me mobilize the empire for total war. Minhe Choung Park and Indira will be arriving tomorrow, so don’t even think about getting into a little scrap,” Rima warned.

James felt his stomach clench as he noticed Sergei and Wenceslaus had not once turned their backs on each other. It was like Kasia had long said; the idealist Wenceslaus and the ruthlessly pragmatic, sophisticated Sergei hated one another with a passion not even an invasion that promised to kill them all could quench.

[revan5]

Spoiler for "The Silver-eyed Empress" Chapter 6, part 2:

Kasia walked forward in the sunshine warily, and then rushed to the side of the wooden wall. She took a glance around the opening in the wall and found a massive creature hardly moving a mere hundred meters away. She glanced back at Lillian and the rest of the squad and made a stop motion with her hand.

The rest of squad 158 stopped and kneeled as Kasia took another glance. The Dragonkin in question was in the midst of a seemingly derelict wooden fort. Its parade grounds were littered with the stripped remains of horses, their skeletons torn apart and bare of flesh. There were no men in sight, and the Dragonkin seemed barely alive. Its spike-topped body was lying on the ground, its horribly withered sides barely expanding with breath.

The fort was in the bottom of the mountain pass, with massive, snow-capped peaks all around. Given the difficulty of resupply to the area, Dietrich could admire Kasia’s logic progression of attacking the supply lines. Of course, there was the minor problem of being trapped in Kasia’s memories while their bodies wasted away in the real world. There was also the increasing issue of Dietrich being able to feel each and every movement of Kasia’s body as if it were her own. It made it harder to observe properly when it felt like she was actually doing everything Kasia was doing.

The lone Dragonkin Kasia observed was not the only one; already she could smell the foul stench of others. A pair of weak roars echoed across the kilometer-wide camp, which had many of its numerous barracks and the central keep smashed. Kasia observed a pair of ghastly-thin Dragonkin standing up near the central keep. However they made no attempt to walk towards their barely-living compatriot near Kasia.

A fourth Dragonkin could be heard far away and well out sight, but it did not seem to be getting any closer. Kasia gave the all-clear thumbs up to the strawberry-blond Lillian, who motioned the rest of the ten-warrior squad forward. Princess Bastia ran up alongside Bastia wearing a short sword, her hair rolled up in a ridiculously complex braid. Bastia’s head barely got to Kasia’s shoulders, but that didn’t seem to slow Bastia down.

Lillian rushed up alongside Kasia and took a look around the smashed opening in the wall, “Well, congratulations Kasia, it seems your strategy was a complete success. They’re all on death’s door,” Lillian observed.

“We should kill them all,” Bastia stated.

“I am not so dishonorable that I would want to do that,” Lillian objected.

Kasia sighed, “Commander, I know it’s not honorable, but if they live and kill other warriors, their blood will be on our hands.”

Dietrich found herself not quite sure who was morally right between Kasia and Lillian. It was a moral dilemma made worse by feeling as if she literally inhabited Kasia’s body in the memory.

Lillian sighed, twisting her long, curly hair with a hand, “I know you’re right, but it just feels wrong…”

“Phtth, whatever,” Rima interjected, nonchalantly walking right by all of them, through the smashed opening, and towards the Smok. “This bastard is nothing less than a monster, and monsters DESERVE NO MERCY!!!”

The pure, raw hatred and anger in Rima’s voice was impossible to ignore.

“If you’re not going to kill them commander, then I will,” Rima stated, drawing out her enormous claymore. “Come on Kasia, we’ll finish them off together.”

Kasia stood up and followed Rima while Lillian stayed put. Bastia followed along, as did the short-haired Katherine and dark-skinned Nana. Kasia noticed the Dragonkin before them was so weak it could barely move its massive head to better see them.

She approached carefully to the left of Rima, drew her sword, and gazed upon the skin-and-bones monster. Its ribs were sticking out in horrible relief, it had lost all muscle tone, and its long arms, tail and legs were seemingly stuck to the ground. If it had been standing, its head could easily have cleared a 3rd floor window.

Kasia jumped onto the creature’s back carefully, dodging between spikes with care. It didn’t even move to stop her, so she moved onto the back of its neck. She held back her blade for the killing blow through the spine at the base of its neck.

“I’ll put you out of your misery,” Kasia stated while Rima looked on.

Gathering her full strength, Kasia swung with everything she had except using additional Yoma energy. She felt the spine resist the swing for a moment, but only a moment. Her blade severed it cleanly, a small spray of blood flinging out. Within seconds the Dragonkin’s breathing was halted, leaving Rima to smile.

“That’s one fucking bastard down. Nice job on the swing sis,” Rima complimented. “Let’s go kill the rest of them. You’re welcome to join in anytime Commander!”

“No thanks,” Lillian said, walking up to the now deceased body of the Dragonkin.

With an enthusiastic jump off, Rima charged straight for the barely standing pair of even larger Dragonkin near the keep. Ten minutes later, both were dead, as was the fourth that had tried to escape Kasia. Dietrich felt a melancholy hit her; she now knew Kasia had lied to her regarding the fate of these creatures.




Kasia sat down at the booth, a small four-candle chandelier above lighting it just enough to see by. She flicked a hand through her long, wavy, shampooed blond hair.

“You’re looking radiant as ever,” James complimented, sitting down opposite her.

James was dressed like her in full-body black leather but not his armor, much like Kasia. They were seated in a restaurant in the city of Pradesh, where they’d just arrived only a day prior from their Kagano mission. Along the way they’d also rescued Princess Bastia and killed some four Dragonkin as well. Their arrival in Pradesh was not terribly celebratory, but at least their handlers awarded some initial performance bonuses. Pending confirmation of the four Smokowcy being dead they would have to wait a few days.

James had asked her to go to dinner with him, and Kasia had agreed. Unfortunately for them both, there was one other person who had rather objected to this arrangement.

Rima slid in next to Kasia while James scowled.

James asked, “Why is it you had to come with us?”

Rima scoffed, “With a perverted guy like you, why wouldn’t I come? The last damn thing I need to hear about is how you’re trying to feel her up in public.”

“I thought she’d like it,” James snapped. “How was I supposed to know she didn’t like what Noir did?”

“Well maybe you should’ve used your pea-sized brain and thought about it,” Rima shot back. “Kasia isn’t the squad commander, and you’re NOT the only male in our squad. Just because Noir liked you to feel her up in front of everyone else to emphasize her status doesn’t mean you should try to feel up Kasia in front of the squad too. Speaking of that, why the hell didn’t you ever kick him in the groin Kasia?”

Kasia was busy trying to ignore the melodramatics her chaperone and supposed date were having. She glanced around, noticing the unique, colorful interior. It smelled strongly of curry in the restaurant, and had been full of people until they arrived. Many of the human clientele were now leaving the large restaurant. A single, petite waitress walked up just as Rima and James had finally stopped shouting at one another.

“Kasia,” Rima said, prodding her, “why didn’t you—“

“I am TRYING to enjoy my seventeenth birthday Rima, and all you seem to want to do is make me miserable,” Kasia snapped as the waitress nervously approached them.

“But,” Rima stammered.

“We’ll have the curry with white rice and chicken,” Kasia stated, flashing her ‘big sister’ an unhappy expression. “I’ll have a small beer, whatever is on tap, and so will they.”

“Yes of course,” the waitress agreed.

Kasia noticed the brown-skinned waitress was wearing a yellow Sari, and underneath it all her body was shaking in fear. Kasia didn’t comment as the waitress took their menus and left.

“Kasia, come on, I mean he’s been nothing but a sex-craving nut that has—“

“James may have been a real boor in the first few months,” Kasia snapped, “but he’s gotten better. Besides, it’s not like we’ve done anything like what you fear.”

James merely twittled his fingers and tried to act as if he hadn’t heard anything as he sat opposite them.

“So,” James said into the awkward silence, “it’s your seventeenth birthday Kasia?”

“Yeah,” Kasia sighed. “Can you guys just not argue and let me enjoy our victory?”

Rima looked as if she didn’t know quite what to do. On the one hand Rima was eyeing James with some distaste, but on the other hand Rima seemed to accept her sister’s request.

James stated, “I have to hit the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

James walked hurriedly down the aisle, past a pair of terrified hostesses, and then turned left towards the out-of-sight bathrooms.

Rima nudged Kasia to ask, “What exactly do you see in him?”

Kasia sighed and looked over with annoyance.

“Well, I’m sorry Kasia, but any other girl would’ve kneed his balls to the walls after the shit he’s pulled. He tried groping your boobs in front of the squad, he’s tried grabbing your ass a so much I’ve lost count, and he’s constantly trying to seduce you. Why do you put up with him?”

“As I said Rima,” Kasia snapped, “he’s gotten better. Do you know how screwed up Noir made him in the head?”

“I don’t need to know, I’ve seen it,” Rima sniffed.

“No, you really don’t know, and that’s why you were always giving him hell since day one,” Kasia snapped. “You don’t understand him at all!”

“Okay, I’ll fucking bite,” Rima sighed, “what is it about James I don’t understand?”

“James is three years older than us,” Kasia started.

“That’s hardly—“

“Let me finish,” Kasia snapped. “He was made an active warrior when he was fourteen, not fifteen like us. He was transferred into Noir’s squad and discovered he was the lone male soldier. Do you know what it’s like being the lone male slayer in a squad?”

“Look, I know the female squad commanders claim the guys and screw them, but honestly Kasia, him screwing Noir isn’t—“

Kasia continued, “There was a power struggle in that squad before we arrived. You remember their tracker, Liang?”

“Vaguely,” Rima said, stretching out her legs onto the other side of the booth. “Why, did Liang take a fancy to James?”

“James had just arrived and he became an object of status amongst the girls,” Kasia explained. “Noir tried to pressure him into sleeping with her, but he refused.”

Rima sat up, “Wait, did you just say he refused to screw her?”

“Obviously,” Kasia huffed, “that’s exactly what I said. Liang took it to mean he thought Noir was too weak for his tastes, so she challenged Noir to a fight to be squad commander. Liang lost, and Noir beat Liang pretty mercilessly. James tried to intervene and get Noir to be merciful. Noir instead beat him up and forced herself upon him in front of the entire squad.”

Rima couldn’t quite manage a response at first. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was opened but no words came.

Rima, looked shocked, asked, “Wait, how did you find this out?”

“James told me,” Kasia stated.

“Now Kasia, maybe you should take this with a grain of salt,” Rima suggested. “That does seem like a pretty tall tale.”

“Well I believe him, even if you are incapable of it,” Kasia gruffly countered. “Besides, do you think Noir was a saint towards him? She was obsessed with possessing him like a status symbol. Anytime a new female slayer arrived in the squad, Noir forced James to have sex with her in front of the squad. If he didn’t grope her in front of everyone, she beat him. She twisted him up inside for four years before we arrived, and you want to blame him for behaving like how Noir desired. Maybe you should be a little more forgiving,” Kasia stated in a grave voice.

Dietrich found herself sympathizing with James’ tale while experiencing Kasia’s memory.

“Alright, so it’s not so hard for me to believe Noir was a screwed-up bitch,” Rima sighed. “I just want to know why you let him hang…”

James rushed back into sight, which caused even usually blunt Rima to fall silent. He was jingling a pair of flashy objects in one hand as he giddily ran up and slid into the booth.

“Look what I got you,” James said, jingling a pair of flashy, cheap-looking earrings.

He handed them over with a pleased smile upon his face and flicked a hand over his short white hair. Rima took one look and scoffed, but Kasia sighed.

She leaned over and kissed James lightly on the lips and then sat back down.

“Thanks James, that was very kind of you,” Kasia complimented him.

James looked rather awestruck, and was too shocked for words. A smile started growing upon his face while Rima hid her face in her hands.

Kasia, with two small pricks of pain, inserted the earrings into her earlobes with ease.

James’ eager look was unmistakable, “So you like them?”

“They’re the best birthday gift I’ve gotten so far,” Kasia stated as Rima swallowed her pride next to her. “I appreciate the thoughtfulness.”

Rima snapped, “I was going to get you something but…”

Kasia could feel James hand touching her knee and begin moving up her thighs towards her groin.

“No James,” Kasia stated firmly.

Rima was less subtle in her disapproval. She promptly smashed a steel boot into James stomach in a vicious under-table scissors kick. He crumpled onto the booth and immediately began hacking up blood.

Kasia cried out in alarm, “Rima, you bitch, that’s not what I wanted to happen!”

Kasia shoved Rima out of the booth and onto the restaurant floor. She frantically rounded the table and dragged James delicately onto the floor.

“He got what was coming to him,” Rima snapped, standing up as Kasia frantically began tending to the hacking James.

Kasia stood up, turned around, and surprised Dietrich by unleashing a hellishly fierce slap across Rima’s face.

“You may fucking leave,” Kasia spat as Rima reacted with a shocked expression.

“But…”

Dietrich could tell Kasia was really upset, as Kasia was crying tears and clenching her fists at Rima, “You ruined my birthday! I don’t need you as my fucking chaperone!”

Dietrich was in shock as she experienced speaking the curses. Kasia had never struck her as particularly temperamental, but it was obvious Rima’s treatment of James on her birthday had finally caused her to snap.

Rima, looking startled at the sudden temper of Kasia, backpedaled and walked towards the front of the empty restaurant. Kasia wiped away her tears and kneeled besides the injured James. She began to use her Yoma energy crudely in an attempt to help boost his healing.

“Kasia, I think we’ve got a problem,” Rima interrupted.

Kasia looked up to find Rima flanked by two identical twin female warriors. They were wearing some sort of flexible black fabric on their arms and legs in addition to their armor, which had also been painted black. They were dark-skinned, looking to be of Bantu descent with their broad noses and large lips. Each had their blond hair arranged into nearly identical corn-row patterns. On all sides of them were hundreds of troops converging around them, their weapons pointed straight at the backpedaling Rima, Kasia, and even James.




Kasia blinked her eyes open to find herself atop an enormous plush object. It appeared to be a massive yellow bed. She attempted to get up and felt her head feel light as she got up. She fell back onto the bed awkwardly and then remembered. The freakish identical twins, who were radiating a bizarre yoki, had told them it was illegal for slayers to eat in human establishments on alliance territory. They’d tried to reason with the handler of the twins, but he ordered them to each take a yoki pill.

They were then knocked out in short order by the twins, not even being allowed to defend themselves. This was about all Kasia could remember, so she started shouting.

Kasia yelled, “James, Lillian, Rima, anyone?!?”

She tried to stand up again and found it very difficult.

“I wouldn’t try moving around too much in those restraints,” a rough male voice said in heavily accented Comnenian. “They’re made of pure duratium; the same metal your kind’s swords are forged with.”

Kasia felt a cool metal wrapping around her arms, and two separate sets of metal against her upper and lower legs. She knew immediately her arms were restrained behind her back by what felt like a full arm restraint. With great difficulty she bent her knees and sat up. She suddenly noticed she wasn’t wearing any clothing other than a small corset around her belly and lower back. She was thus providing a rather erotic view to the pudgy, balding, brown-skinned man sitting in a huge chair not far from the bed.

He was wearing hugely elaborate white and black robes, although these did not hide his advancing age, gray hairs, or big belly. He was puffing on a huge cigar and watching her with obvious interest.

“I demand you set me free this instant,” Kasia shouted.

“You’re in no position to demand anything young slayer,” the man stated. “You see, I’m the highest-ranking lord in this part of the Bengali Empire. I am Viceroy Bahadur, and this is my palace. You could say I am the administrative ruler of this part of the Alliance of Nations”

“What do you want from me?”

Bahadur, who looked to be considerably squatter and shorter, merely laughed.

The room was enormous, with all the floors, ceilings, and walls made of varying hues of marble. Numerous ridiculous-sized pieces of furniture dotted the room, which was bigger than any house Kasia had ever visited. Its ceiling stretched nearly three stories above her. At the room’s far end sunlight filtered through enormous, mostly translucent green drapes.

“I even had to dye your hair a dark brown to match her hair color,” the Viceroy stated.

The Viceroy walked forward, hopped onto the bed beside her, and reached out. Kasia tried to squirm away, but instead she merely fell over, onto her back. Bahadur fondled her right breast, at which Kasia stilled her breathing.

“My late wife was just the same in bed,” Bahadur said fondly. “Always reluctant to share herself with me, but she made up for it with a great body. In fact, you look incredibly alike, right down to your great height.”

Dietrich had never felt such a disturbing thing in her life as Bahadur’s hand roaming Kasia’s body in the memory. She could feel Kasia sweating in fear as Bahadur began to disrobe.

Kasia struggled to get away from the Viceroy as he kneeled over her with his unattractive body. His robes parted to reveal his erect lust for her.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe here dear,” Bahadur stated, leaning in to kiss her.

Kasia squirmed to avoid his lips, but shackled and drugged like she was there was little she could do but wriggle. Dietrich could feel the panic in Kasia as the Viceroy lowered himself onto her body.

“You’ll never leave me again, my eternally young beauty,” Bahadar whispered into her ear. “Just give me what I want dear.”

“I’m not your wife,” Kasia shouted.

Bahadar smiled and then kissed her neck.

“I’ll admit I never expected you to reincarnate and become a slayer dear,” he stated, “But I’m willing to look past that.”

Dietrich had never seen such a shocking and appalling abuse of authority for personal reasons, even during her days in the Organization. She almost felt as one with Kasia as she willed on Kasia to succeed in her struggles.

Bahadur rolled Kasia over onto her belly. She suddenly saw the pair of dark-skinned identical twin slayers from earlier standing in the doorway as if nothing were happening.

“Help me, goddammit, why are you just standing there and watching?!?”

“Now, now dear, there’s no reason to get so feisty,” Bahadur soothed, “my dedicated bodyguards would never interrupt us. They are conditioned to always obey their master.”

Kasia felt herself getting light headed as Bahadur pulled himself atop her, positioning himself behind her. Kasia saw an image of her dark-skinned mother being bent over a bed by a “client” in her head. This was the last thing she saw before everything went blank.




“Kasia, come on Kasia, little sis, wake up,” Kasia heard Rima say.

She felt Rima’s arms with relief and opened her eyes.

She sat up and clutched at her chest only to find it fully clothed in her regular black leather. Kasia breathed a deep sigh of relief, even though she could tell they were in a dark, dank prison. Kasia sat up and found she was still drugged, only this time she was surrounded by her squadmates. They all had their lower legs and arms wrapped by duratium restraints, with Lillian sighing in relief beside Rima.

“Oh thank goodness,” Lillian said, “we were so worried when they brought you in and we couldn’t wake you up.

Kasia looked around, “Where is he? Where’s the Viceroy?”

White-haired James came forward, “Kasia, what are you talking about? You were dumped in here with the rest of us a day after we were all arrested and processed for breaking the law in this empire.”

He tried to reassure her with a touch, but Kasia drew back.

“Don’t touch me,” she snapped.

Lillian, who had been looking at Kasia dourly, sighed, “Kasia is there some reason why your hair is dyed?”

Kasia’s chance to answer was interrupted as the clink-clack of steel boots on the cement floor of the prison hallway. A quartet of individuals was walking closer, their features obscured by the dark.

“That’s them,” Princess Bastia’s voice said, “open this door immediately!”

A jailer and another guard holding about a dozen keys apiece walked up to the cell door in coarse chain-mail armor, each armed only with a short sword. Standing behind the jailer was the shorter Princess Bastia, this time properly armed with a massive claymore and in a regular slayer’s black leather and armor outfit. Bastia had somehow gotten her hair arranged in a complex bun, which was in contrast to the somewhat taller slayer next to her.

The cell door clicked open with a squeak, and the jailer hurriedly removed all their restraints while Bastia personally removed Kasia’s restraints. Kasia felt an immense relief and hugged Bastia tight, who returned it.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to worry,” Bastia reassured. “I made sure he won’t go near you ever again.”

Kasia’s heart skipped a beat upon hearing this from Bastia’s lips. She had been hoping it was all a bad dream, but the dyed hair had already been sobering her to expect otherwise.

James’ eyes immediately narrowed, “Did someone try to do something to Kasia?”

“Don’t even think about vengeance Havel,” Bastia warned. “Viceroy Bahadur’s bodyguards are NOT for show. You’d last about three seconds until they tore you to shreds.”

“Kasia,” James said, “what did he try to do?”

“Viceroy Bahadur thought Kasia looked like a reincarnation of his wife, so he had the whole squad jailed on false charges to keep you from interrupting his time with her,” Bastia stated rather maturely for a twelve-year-old. “Thankfully he didn’t have luck go his way before I managed to pull rank on him.”

James clenched his fists, “He tried to rape her, didn’t he?”

“I wouldn’t try anything stupid in revenge,” Bastia warned as the entire squad remained in a shocked silence. “Anyways, I met the senior slayer commander in the area, and she says we’d be a great asset on a high-value mission.”

Bastia gestured to the slayer beside her as the jailer and guard left the cell and walked away. This slayer was roughly Lillian’s height, with gray hair, two parted bangs, and her hair pinned in back into a ponytail. It was a look that made her appear vaguely similar to Phantom Miria in Dietrich’s estimation. However the slayer had rather distinct features, her face a blend of the narrow eyes of a Siyamese and the pointier nose of a Khaledonian.

The athletic slayer walked forward just as Kasia got up.

“I’m Commander Katarzyna Yushchenka,” the slayer said.

Dietrich could hardly believe what she was hearing and seeing in Kasia’s memory. Even if she was endangering her life by having soul-linked with Kasia, this memory alone was worth it. There was only one person who the plain-faced Katarzyna Yushchenka could be: the future empress of the Romanow Empire and destroyer of the Alliance of Nations’ High Command.

“I would like to know which of you Rima Romanowa is,” Katarzyna stated.

Rima stood up and said, “I am.”

“Congratulations Rima, you’re now squad 162’s Commander,” Katarzyna said in a lovely, gorgeous voice.

“Eh,” Rima remarked, “But I never asked to be promoted to—“

Katarzyna shook the taller Rima’s hand, “You are the same number 3140 who killed a Dragonkin on her first mission, are you not?”

“Well yes,” Rima admitted, “I did do that.”

Katarzyna continued, “You also killed four more Dragonkin recently, did you not?”

“Well actually they were all half dead when we got there thanks to my sister’s tactics,” Rima said, pointing straight at Kasia. “Besides, Kasia killed two of them herself.”

Katarzyna seemed to be staring straight into Kasia’s eyes for a moment before she turned to Lillian, who abruptly turned from relaxed to tense.

Katarzyna inquired of Lillian, “How exactly did your squad manage to kill four Dragonkin with such ease?”

Lillian stepped forward, “We hit their only supply line and starved them for a month before we attacked their base. It was Kasia Romanowa’s idea to hit their supply lines.”

Katarzyna queried, “Kasia, would you be interested in commanding a squad?”

“No, no, no, I can’t afford to lose Kasia as well,” Lillian snapped. “She’s my best remaining fighter.”

“You won’t be able to keep her with you forever, Commander O’Malley,” Katarzyna said. “A brilliant slayer like her is destined for command. You’ll be receiving some four replacements to replace your three losses and Rima leaving by the way.”

Rima spoke up, “Commander Yushchenka, what exactly is the mission I will be leading my new squad on alongside Lillian’s squad?”

Katarzyna replied warmly, “There’ll be four squads in total, full-strength, 12 slayers per. I’ll have overall command and lead squad 53, there will your squad Rima, Lillian’s squad, and also squad 10. They recently lost their leader, so I would really like if Kasia might be—“

“Absolutely not,” Lillian hissed. “I need her strength behind me.”

“Very well,” Katarzyna sniffed. “Our mission is without precedent in the alliance’s history. We’re going to go deep into Grand Alliance territory and hit a Smokowcy nesting area.”

The silence that followed was complete and total amongst everyone present. It was, after all, one thing to go after a quartet of Dragonkin with four squads of slayers. It was quite another to purposely try to sneak into their nesting areas and kill them there.

James summed up the feelings of Lillian’s squad succinctly when he commented, “shit.”

[revan5]

"Claymore: New Era"

Prologue:http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3811

Chapter 1: http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3788
http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3789

Chapter 2: http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3791
http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3792

Chapter 3: http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3793
http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3794

Chapter 4: http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3795
http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3796

Chapter 5: http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3806
http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3807

Chapter 6: http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3808
http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3809

Chapter 7: http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3816
http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3817

Chapter 8: http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3842
http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3843

Chapter 9: http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3845
http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3846

Please note that even though "Claymore: New Era" is completed, I am still accepting constructive critiques and reviews at this time. (You can find even better versions of several chapters already on fanfiction.net: http://www.fanfiction.net/anime/Clay.../0/5043/1/0/1/) I will be updating the ff.net chapters weekly with the latest and greatest versions, so I would urge you to read them there. You can send me or post your reviews here however.

In the meantime I'll be steadily constructing "The Silver-eyed Empress" Section with new posts. The seven chapters so far come out to around 120 pages in MS Word, so be warned it is fairly epic.



"The Silver-eyed Empress"

Prologue: http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3871

Chapter 1: http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3873
http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3874

Chapter 2: http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3878
http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3879

Chapter 3: http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3892
http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3893

Chapter 4: http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3894
http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3895

Chapter 5: http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3927
http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3928

Chapter 6: http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3929
http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3930

[Bikerider]

meanwhile just as the battle for Rabona ends

Dietrich looks around in amazement at the carnage.

Helen wraps her arm over Dee's sholders; "Hey Shorty! Wasn't that fun ? You had fun right ?"

Yuma: "I had fun !"

[revan5]

Spoiler for "The Silver-eyed Empress" Chapter 7, part 1:

Chapter 7

Excerpt from “The Alliance of Nations: A Complete History”

The Silver-eyed slayers employed by the Alliance of Nations are often misunderstood to be evil or completely amoral by people in Toulouse, the Grand Alliance, or the Kingdom of Breton. However, this is an unfair characterization of the ‘slayers’, who are constantly compared to the “pure” ex-Organization claymores from Toulouse. The claymores once believed they were fighting on behalf of humanity, and their distaste for killing humans even after the Organization’s fall is often contrasted with the nonchalance that the slayers regarded killing humans.

Slayers should not be regarded as claymores; they were conscripts fighting in a global war on behalf of their countries. To slayers, a fight “to save humanity” would have sounded ridiculous. After all, there were plenty of humans killing each other on both sides of the global war. Slayers were also employed in a plethora of roles claymores were not: assassins, scouts, bodyguards, covert operatives, spies, elite support troops, and shock troops. Claymores would have been familiar with the slayers’ roles as hunters of errant awakened beings and Dragonkin however.

One of the largest differences between claymores and slayers was that slayers were not entirely female. Roughly ten to twenty percent of every annual class of slayers was male. This was made possible by using special Yoma that prevented males from experiencing intense sexual pleasure while using Yoma energy. The presence of male slayers also plays into stereotypes; claymores were “pure girls” while female slayers were corrupted by “male temptation”. Slayers who later came to power have failed to entirely shake this stereotype of moral impurity.

It was inevitability that with the presence of male warriors sex and relationships were going to happen. Until the discovery of partial awakening, both sexes were infertile, both with one another and humans. The high female-to-male ratio in slayer squads meant that conventional relationships were never going to happen. Female slayers’ aggressive nature was also a cause, as Katarzyna Romanowa famously said; they were “like men in superhuman female bodies”.

Ordinarily if a male slayer joined an all-female squad, he could expect to see fights between the commander and upstarts. Once it was determined who was commander, the male warrior was obliged to bed her unless he could prove he was even stronger. In such a case the male commander would then have the pick of the entire squad to bed. Unfortunately for male commanders, playing favorites would set off fights between his favorite(s) and the rest of the squad. To prevent such intra-squad problems, many male commanders would sleep with every female in their squad.

The wives of the Alliance of Nations’ High Command were appalled by such promiscuity. This outrage was further increased when they were informed that female commanders often defused male warriors’ rivalries for their attention via the same method. A few commanders, Wenceslaus being the most prominent example, avoided this problem by refusing to sleep with any of their subordinates. This wasn’t a perfect solution, as a squad of sexually frustrated females could be, in Wenceslaus’ words, “an especially aggravating situation”.

Slayers it must be remembered regarded sex as a pleasant distraction. Long-term relationships for them were difficult to form: they averaged 2-3 years life expectancy in the field, they were frequently transferred between squads, and they were forbidden from marrying until…




“Look James, we’re going to be on a year-long journey,” the shorter, regal Princess Bastia stated. “If Kasia’s refusing to sleep with you, there’s a burlesque hall I know where you could take care of your needs.”

It had been a few months since the four squads under Katarzyna Yushchenka’s command had left the city of Pradesh. Kasia had seemed the most relieved, as she wanted to be away from Viceroy Bahadur, who believed her a reincarnation of his late wife. In the meantime the females of Lillian’s squad were changing in ways that James had found hugely distracting.

Kasia had filled out a bit all around, no longer looking quite as lanky. Bastia had hit her growth spurt in the last few months. She was now a rival for Lillian’s previously unchallenged claim as the most beautiful slayer James had ever seen. Bastia had a regal face, her shorter height giving her a well-proportioned body, and had her golden blond hair rolled up in a gorgeous, ornate bun. Lillian had gained a little weight, but it had been in all the right areas.

It made for mouth-watering eye candy, but of course he couldn’t act on his urges to sleep with any of them. Lillian was already involved with both Ichiro and Rafael, so attempting to sleep with her would set off a two-on-one fight. He knew better than to try to sleep with Bastia, who despite her adult looks was only thirteen. She was also a princess, and he was not about to find out whether her parents were protecting her “virtue”. Kasia had been in a state of shock after Bahadur’s advances, and so once again he had spent another frustrating year waiting for her to gain a more physical interest in him.

They had just arrived in a city on the edge of the Maghrebi Desert: Najaf. Despite the supposed conservative morals of its residents, there were plenty of whorehouses and burlesque halls throughout the dusty city. He had asked Bastia, who was a well-educated princess, if it would be morally okay to visit a burlesque hall if Kasia was unwilling to bed him. Surprisingly Bastia had no problems with his question.

“I don’t see any problems,” Bastia said.

She was wearing desert warrior clothing, with silk white tights, a loose white cotton shirt, and a mere set of steel gauntlets for armor. He was wearing a similar outfit, only he had looser white cotton trousers over his legs.

James blinked in disbelief at Bastia’s response, “Are you sure Your Highness?”

“James, you’re not in a relationship with Kasia,” Bastia stated, at which he flinched. “You would not be cheating on her, and we’re going on a dangerous mission. You might not be alive in a year, so why not enjoy yourself?”

He set out; not entirely without feeling he was endangering his soul yet again, to visit a nearby burlesque hall. The hall’s madam was surprised to see him but eagerly accepted his money. He requested someone special: a brown-skinned girl with long, wavy hair. They found a satisfactory, big-breasted girl who fit the bill, although she was much shorter than Kasia. The girl had been afraid of him, but her vague resemblance to Kasia had turned him rather tender.

She had disrobed after he had convinced her he would not kill her. He took her almost immediately, and soon they were both panting from the efforts. Of course, given how sex-starved he had been for three years, once was not enough. He had intercourse with the delectable girl a further four times. He left the burlesque hall rather satisfied until he noticed who was sitting outside the hall: an impatient Kasia.

Kasia, wearing much the same desert clothing of Bastia, turned upon hearing his footsteps. James felt his smile vanish as Kasia looked over and innocently asked, “James, what in the world are you doing here?”

“Well,” James stammered, unsure how to answer, “why are you here Kasia?”

“Bastia said you wanted me to meet you here,” Kasia stated.

A dreaded cat-call came from behind him, “Mister Havel, come back anytime! I’ll give you an even better time when you come back!”

James turned ashen as he saw the brown-skinned Fatima behind him. She was wearing the outfit of a belly dancer, with a gaudy, bead-lined, split skirt, and wore a sheer, glitzy fabric over her shapely chest that left little to the imagination. James turned to see Kasia’s smile vanish as her eyes took in Fatima’s provocative gesturing.

Kasia didn’t say anything, but instead she tore off at a quick walking pace back towards their camp outside Najaf. He rushed after her, frantically running ahead of her.

“Kasia, please,” he pleaded.

Kasia didn’t even look him in the eyes but just walked right around him. He rushed to walk alongside her as she stared straight ahead.

“Kasia, I swear, I only—“

“You’re a boor just like Bastia said,” Kasia snapped, ending her silence but not even caring to glance once at him. “For a moment there I thought we could work as a couple, but then you pull this on me.”

James was left speechless as he stopped and Kasia kept walking. Kasia soon turned the corner and was out of sight. He was left alone and shocked for several minutes, his mind going numb. He turned when he heard some female laughter.

“Oh my goodness, I would give anything to see the look on your face again when that whore gestured at you with Kasia nearby,” Bastia laughed.

James should have felt incredible anger at the double game Bastia had just played with him. Instead he could not shake a horrible, creeping depression he had just ruined whatever chances of being Kasia’s man he had.

James directed what anger he could at Bastia, “What the hell did I ever do to you to deserve your backstabbing?!?”

Bastia laughed, “I’m not concerned with your feelings. Anyone with a mind more cultured than yours can see that someone pure like Kasia is destined for a greater man than a boorish idiot like you.”

James suddenly noticed Rima running around the corner and prepared for the double onslaught of disapproval with a resigned sigh. Rima surprised him however.

“Bastia,” Rima thundered, “you imperious little bitch! I know it was your doing!”

Bastia acted unconcerned at Rima’s impolite address, “I merely informed Kasia that James wanted to meet her somewhere.”

Rima’s answer was to slap Bastia with the back of her hand, which astounded James, as no one, not even Commander Katarzyna, had dared to even touch the warrior princess.

“You told James to go to a burlesque hall, screw a prostitute, and then told Kasia to meet him just outside it,” Rima snarled. “She’s bawling her eyes out back in camp because of your cruelty!”

“You’re going to regret slapping me,” Bastia silkily hissed.

“Oh I don’t think I will,” Rima snarled. “You want to go, I’m ready any time you asshole. Anyone who makes Kasia that upset is well worth beating the crap out of.”

James was left gaping at the sheer foul language Rima was unleashing upon Bastia. Bastia however took it calmly and merely unsheathed her massive sword as Rima did likewise. The girls shifted into battle positions when over two dozen silver-eyed warriors jumped over the nearest houses and into the street around Rima and Bastia.

Lillian, Ichiro, Rafael, Katherine, and Nana rushed in and grabbed Rima. Bastia was surprisingly grabbed by Commander Katarzyna.

“That’s far enough girls,” the gray-haired Katarzyna lectured. “I can’t have such promising fighters fighting when we’re about to cross the Maghrebi Desert.”

James felt a prod and suddenly woke up from the dream. He found his superior officer, the disciplinarian, brown-skinned Katja Tymoshenko, prodding him awake. Katja was the commanding officer of the Imperial Romanow Family’s bodyguards, the Silver Guard.

“Lieutenant Commander,” Katja quietly hissed, “it’s your shift to watch over the meeting.”

“Understood ma’am,” he acknowledged.

He was seated upon a large sofa alongside dozens of other dozing Silver Guards in their full armor. Since the attempt on Kasia’s life and the subsequent invasion by the Grand Alliance, security at Praha Palace had increased exponentially. The two hundred members of the Silver Guard, having nearly failed the imperial family, were now on constant duty. While half of the force guarded the family, the remainder rested nearby, weapons at the ready.

James was just outside the new imperial command hall, where he had once observed as Kasia had received Countess Dietrich Tuluzy. Tymoshenko backed up a few spaces to let him stand. He yawned and observed the candle-lit hall was a buzz of activity, military staff members, servants, courtiers, bureaucrats, and even some silver-eyed aristocrats were walking past.

With a quick stretch, he stood up as Tymoshenko made a motion towards the grand bronze doors to the hall. He quickly woke up his shift of Silver Guards, everyone having slept in their armor to protect a crucial military meeting. James waited while Commander Tymoshenko opened a bronze door, stuck her head inside, and then quickly talked to someone inside. She turned back and waved for him to enter.

He passed by Tymoshenko and walked through the door. Inside he found the hall lit by its three immense silver chandeliers far above. Each was the size of a small house, made of silver, and adorned by hundreds of burning candles. They illuminated the great hall, which stretched far above, its stained glass windows barely illuminated by the candles. Marble columns stretched down from the domed roof to the red, green, white, and black-patterned marble floor below.

It was in the center of that floor, gathered around a sizeable table, that James saw the individuals he was supposed to protect. Crown Princess Rima, now in command of the Romanow Empire in the empress’ absence, sat at the head of the table. She was wearing a grand, triangular hat adorned with numerous blue sapphires, red rubies, green emeralds, white diamonds, white and black pearls, and gold stitching. Her black silk, cotton, and gold-embroidered dress was only slightly less overwhelming on the eyes.

Seated to Rima’s right was the scar-faced, heavily built Duke Wenceslaus. Much like his rival Sergei, seated opposite, Wenceslaus was wearing dark gray trousers, long brown boots, and a fine black-with-gold lined cotton jacket. Sergei had his flowing blond hair pinned in back, while Wenceslaus had his cut short except for his bangs. They were keeping a wary eye on each other as they listened in to the war meeting.

“Duke Djugashvili,” the Crown Princess said. “You will take command of the Reserve Army and fight a delaying action until more reinforcements arrive here.”

Sergei objected, “Your Imperial Highness, while I may be a competent commander, the Reserve Army has a mere three hundred thousand men.”

“I’m asking you to delay the bastards, not to get yourselves killed,” Rima snapped.

A gray-haired man sitting opposite Rima on the long table interrupted, “Your Imperial Highness, Duke Djugashvili is speaking merely of the difficulties of delaying such a large army with a much inferior force.”

James recognized the man, who was wearing full plate armor and a fine black cloak, as the Imperial Minister of Defense, Poniatowski.

Poniatowski continued to lecture, “Crown Princess, we are facing an invasion by a one million man army, the largest ever assembled in world history. On top of that they have a full thousand Smokowcy with them and are being led by three of the Grand Alliance’s emperors, not to mention the Chieftain of the Drachenstamm himself.”

Rima grew aggravated, “Goddamn you Poniatowski, it may be the largest in world history, but it’s not invincible. If we can—“

“Crown Princess, I realize you are absolutely confident in ‘the six’, including yourself, but the six strongest of your kind will make little difference against a thousand Smokowcy,” Poniatowski sighed. “We should consider suing for peace now while we have a stronger position.”

Princess Bastia, seated to Wenceslaus’ right, hissed, “I did not help overthrow the Alliance of Nations’ High Command for us to give up on our Cesarzowa now and lose the global war. We will have the second-largest army assembled in history, a full six hundred thousand men and thirty-five hundred slayers ready for battle in four weeks. I think our chances are far better than you imagine Poniatowski.”

Rima and Bastia were stubborn like always, which James appreciated and feared now that the greatest army in the world’s history was now pushing its way deeper into the Romanow Empire. The truth of the matter was there was only one individual in Praha he trusted to win the coming battle, and she had been put into a deep coma by the assassination attempt: Kasia.

Rima stood up, “We are not going to surrender, not now, not ever! Djugashvili, you will fight the delaying action or you will be stripped of your rank. Duke Wenceslaus and Duchesses Indira and Minhe will lead warrior battalions. Overall operational command will be yours Poniatowski, but I had better see some better plans than this unacceptable plan to surrender.”

There were others at the table James noticed as he stood stiffly at attention mere meters behind the Crown Princess. Poniatowski had referred to ‘the six’, or the six warriors stronger than the empress. Rima and Bastia belonged to the group, helping to ensure the Imperial Romanow Family’s hold on power following the coup. Wenceslaus and Sergei belonged to it as well. The final two members of the group were Indira and Minhe Choung Park, both of whom were seated to Sergei Djugashvili’s left.

Indira was easily the shortest of ‘the six’, and had her hair split almost comically into two side ponytails, not unlike the haircut of the unconscious Dietrich Tuluzy. Indira, unlike Dietrich, had a lovely brown skin, not unlike Kasia’s, although Indira was of Bengali descent. Minhe Choung Park was a bit taller, and had a pair of ridiculously long blond bangs. Minhe also had a braided ponytail of waist-length, and her Siyamese descent was obvious to the eye, as she had narrower eyes, a gentler nose, and paler skin than the half-Maghrebi, half Siyamese Rima.

Indira and Minhe were both wearing the armor of a silver-eyed slayer in combination with black and gold-embroidered capes. It was a flashy and distinctive look, and their armor would have made him worry ordinarily, but they were both unarmed and Rima was most definitely still carrying her immense claymore.

Abruptly a man in an Imperial Guardsman’s black uniform walked into the room. James and nearly a dozen Silver Guards reacted instantly, converging upon the handsome, tall man with great speed.

James eyed the man as he stopped respectfully, “We’re in the midst of a top-secret war meeting Colonel Tusk. You do not have the clearance to—“

“It’s about Her Imperial Highness, Princess Kasia’s condition,” Tusk gasped, his chest heaving as if he had just run to the meeting. “Commander Tymoshenko said I could come in.”

“Havel, if it’s about my sister’s condition then let him report,” Rima’s voice commanded.

“Of course Your Imperial Highness,” James acknowledged, stepping aside.

Tusk hurriedly walked forward and made a deep bow from the waist, “I have some good news Crown Princess. Princess Kasia’s condition is beginning to improve under Alevtina’s treatment. Alevtina believes she might be able to awaken the princess in three weeks, a full week before the enemy army is on track to arrive outside Praha.”

Rima looked jubilant, “That is fantastic news. If Kasia can be given command then—“

Tusk surprisingly cut off his Crown Princess, “Alevtina regrets to say however that Princess Kasia, if she survives, will be in no condition to command anything for weeks. She will need to rehabilitate her body and mind to make up for her loss of conditioning while in the coma.”

Sergei made a slight expression and then his face was expressionless. James curled his lip; he could have sworn he had just Sergei flash a grin…




She was Dietrich, or was it Kasia? She couldn’t figure out which anymore, as she was trapped in the memories of the past. They seemed to be going on for months, possibly even years. It was a mind-numbing experience, and one that was confusing her with each passing experience. She felt the light and sounds of a new memory pressing into her mind.

Moments later she found herself yet again in her body: that of a tall, brown-skinned, wavy, long, blond-haired warrior named Kasia. Kasia blinked in the face of intense light from the sun just beginning to emerge at dawn. She was in the midst of a huge, sandy desert, or at least on the cusp of a dune sea.

Some four dozen silver-eyed warriors were around, each quickly walking towards the shelter of caves in some rocky outcroppings not far away.

“Come on Kasia,” a gray-haired female slayer said. “We’ve got to get into the caves before that blazing hot sun gets too far overhead.”

“Right, coming Commander Yushchenka,” Kasia sighed, smiling.

Commander Yushchenka rolled her eyes at Kasia as they walked into a cave, “Kasia, how many times must I insist that you call me Katarzyna?”

“Well,” Kasia stammered.

“We’ve been going through the largest desert in the world for a year together Kasia,” Katarzyna stated. “You can let down that guard you’ve been holding up around everyone since Pradesh.”

Kasia stuttered as Rima started a fire nearby, “I…I have not been—“

“Kasia, you’ve been keeping everyone at a distance, including your sister,” Katarzyna pointed out while reassuringly rubbing Kasia’s shoulders. “Kasia, I think it would do you some good if you got coupled with James.”

Kasia exploded, “I will eat excrement before I get together with that aggravating, sick man! He visited a house of exploitation, of slavery, of terrible sin and vice. What kind of woman would I be if I rewarded him for his behavior?!? You know what they do at prostitution houses? They enlist under-age girls and boys and force them to have sex! By going there James was endorsing that entire evil system of sexual slavery,” Kasia snarled.

Katarzyna closed her eyes and sighed, “Kasia, you have to let one act of bad judgment go. James has apologized every day of this expedition; why can’t you forgive him?”

Kasia snapped, “Why is my private life your concern?”

Katarzyna put a hand to her short forehead, “Kasia, Commander Lillian and your entire squad have requested that I reconcile you two.”

“Why the hell did Lillian have to stick her—“

Katarzyna interjected, “The tensions between you two have put the entire squad on edge, and we’re a mere three days from reaching the nesting area. Can you at least bury your anger towards him before we’re all risking our lives?”

“If I forgive him, I will be condoning one of the most evil institutions mankind has yet to devised to satisfy the perverted tastes of men and women the world over,” Kasia reasoned. “I might as well have condoned him bedding my mother!”

Rima, who had been listening in from a distance, countered, “Oh come on Kasia, I might not like James that much, but he was not—“

“In a different time he might have bedded my mother when she was forced into prostitution,” Kasia snapped. “I cannot forgive such a heinous—“

“Kasia, would you quit hyperventilating,” Rima snapped. “The only reason you’re behaving like a drama queen is because you like him and his actions were a severe disappointment. You should know mom had a choice in employment Kasia. She could’ve been a maid, a cook, or a prostitute. She became a prostitute because it paid well and she wanted us to go to school.”

Kasia whimpered, “You’re lying.”

Rima leaned in and looked into Kasia’s eyes, both of which were moist, “No, I’m not lying. I tried telling you years ago but you wouldn’t listen.”

“I want to be left alone for awhile,” Kasia cried.

Rima and Katarzyna respectfully gave her space to collect her thoughts as the day passed. Kasia found herself see-sawing between forgiving James and maintaining her current anger at him. Ultimately, as the safety of night finally came and they moved out, she finally made a very difficult decision.




Kasia gulped as she approached James; it was morning on the day they were going to approach the Smokowcy nesting area. White-haired James was lying atop a rocky outcropping looking down into the mountainous rock valley below. Kasia heard some distant rumbling and quickly got down. She noticed as she crawled forward to the cliff-edge that James was observing something in a small, bronze telescope.

“James, I wanted to tell you something,” she whispered.

“Kasia, now’s not the time, I’ve just spotted the first Smok on this trip,” James stated.

Kasia momentarily forgot why she had crawled besides James.

She gasped, “What? Where is it?”

James handed her the telescope. She looked into it at the rocky valley below, which was bordered on all sides by small mountains. The telescope showed the desert terrain giving way to a merely arid terrain. On the sides of the mountains were countless burned out trees and more alarmingly steaming vents. They were clearly visible under the partly cloudy sky.

“The Smok is further down, near the top of the pass,” James said.

Kasia adjusted her sights, noticing geysers, fumaroles, mudpots, and even felt a small earthquake. The valley was clearly volcanic, the stone around being mostly dark and jagged in nature. Combined with the small shrubs, cacti, and the countless dead trees, the valley gave off an almost hellish impression. Kasia adjusted the telescope’s view down towards the top of the pass between the twin jagged peaks at the valley’s end.

“He’s right past that big rock,” James instructed.

Kasia saw what seemed like a small rock. It was of an oval shape, although with numerous jagged points throughout its surface. Just above the rock, on the hill above, Kasia saw the seemingly puny Smok. It had some familiar features: a big, oblong head with big teeth, a face that looked part monster and almost part human.

Its body was long, with jagged spikes topping its long tail, its back being protected by fin-like back spikes, and its large arms were armed with massive hands tipped with three lethal clawed fingers each. Its legs were built like that of a dinosaur of legend, and even through a telescope it looked large in comparison to the plants around it. It was also, unlike the mottled red-brown of Dragonkin Kasia had seen before, a shocking, brilliant white.

Kasia inhaled, “Why is it white and not reddish brown?!?”

“Because it’s a breeding female,” Katarzyna’s voice interrupted.

Kasia turned around in surprise to find the four squad commanders behind her standing and observing.

Kasia hissed in alarm, “What are you doing, get down or you’ll be seen!”

Katarzyna was still wearing her desert clothes, with a single pair of steel gauntlets, tight white silk pants, cotton-topped, short adventure boots, and a white cotton tunic.

Katarzyna smiled at Kasia, “Relax Kasia; Dragonkin are not known for their good eyesight at distance. If the wind changed suddenly and we were suddenly upwind, then I might be worried. We have a distinctive scent, and Dragonkin are rumored to have an even better sense of smell than Bloodhounds. Thankfully we’re downwind here.”

Besides Katarzyna was Kasia’s equally tall stepsister, Rima, who was also a squad commander. There was Kasia’s squad commander, the gorgeous, strawberry-blond, long, curly-haired Lillian. Most surprisingly, standing to Lillian’s left, was Bastia.

Kasia, puzzled, asked, “Where is Commander Gonzalez? Is Leon alright?”

“Leon has agreed to relieve himself of command and step aside for Bastia to take command,” Katarzyna stated. “Although I did have one condition; Princess, I believe you have two people to apologize to for your actions.”

Bastia, who looked far older than her fourteen years, stepped forward with uncharacteristic sheepishness, “Kasia, James, I’m sorry about setting up the whole prostitution incident back in Najaf. It was all my doing.”

Kasia yelled, “You did what?!?”

James rushed over and cupped her mouth with his hand, “Oh my god Kasia, do you realize where the hell we are?”

Kasia was breathing hard, her adrenaline pumping both from anger and from her realization that the yell was echoing in the hills behind the commanders. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath as Rima rushed forward to observe the lone Dragonkin’s reaction.

Rima, looking through James’ bronze telescope, sighed in relief, “Oh thank goodness, I don’t think she heard that.”

Katarzyna was scowling at Kasia, “Kasia, that burning intensity of yours nearly cost us the mission. Bastia was apologizing; there’s no need to yell at either Bastia or James. It’s over with, they’ve both apologized, and I’m sure it will never happen again. I want you to let it go,” Katarzyna instructed.

Kasia noticed expectant and exasperated looks all around and sighed, “Oh alright, I was going to forgive James anyways. I just want to know why you did it Bastia.”

Bastia looked as if she wanted to be anywhere else, “I didn’t like James being around you so I told him to do the one thing I knew would upset you.”

“I wouldn’t be looking for immediate forgiveness Your Highness,” Kasia said unsympathetically. “I’m sure you can earn my forgiveness as much as James did.”

Katarzyna smiled in relief, “Well, that’s good enough for me. Alright, we’ve got a valley to cross and a mountain to climb before we’re in the nesting area.”

There was not much talking, as the four dozen slayers clambered down the dangerous slopes with care into the valley below. They shielded themselves from view behind large rocks as they snuck across from one side to the other. Kasia was optimistic of their chances until she saw the sheer rock face they would have to climb.

Kasia put a hand to her face, “Please tell me we’re not going to climb that Commander Katarzyna.”

Katarzyna smacked her on the back, laughing, “Where would the fun be without adding a fifty meter high cliff to the list of things you’ve conquered? You’ve already passed through two thousand kilometers of supposedly impassable desert. Not to mention we were down to our last camel by the time we got here. Alright, Rafael, Ichiro, bring up our rock-climbing gear.”

Minutes later, Kasia found herself suspended on a line suspended from the top of the cliff. Far above she could hear Lillian urging her on.

“Come on Kasia, quit dangling and get your feet back on the cliff,” Lillian commanded.

Kasia slammed a spiked heel of her rock-climbing boots into the cliff and heaved a sigh of relief. She didn’t dare look down as she used her rock-climbing picks and boots to push higher. Eventually she reached the top, where Lillian helped to hoist her over the ledge.

Lillian smiled, “What’s this, my second-in-command is more afraid of heights than Dragonkin?”

“I don’t care if I am,” Kasia gasped. “It looks like we’ve got a long way to go until we’re over the top.”

It took them over a day to top the peak, which was topped by just a bit of snow and blasted by an unforgiving wind. The other side proved a surprise, as they soon found themselves surrounded by small fir trees as they descended. In fact, as they descended, they found the area was lush, and Kasia noticed many plants and animals throughout the area. Katarzyna was leading them forward in hushed silence now.

They finally reached a bare hilltop when Katarzyna dropped down. They followed her lead and crawled forward. The view from over a small cliff was spectacular. A large, burbling valley full of geysers, steaming fumaroles, mud pots, and steam vents came into view. Surrounding the valley’s meadow and stream was a thick forest of towering fir trees. It was the dozens of small Dragonkin walking around at the valley’s far end that caught Kasia’s attention.

She crawled up alongside Commander Yushchenka and Rima.

Kasia queried, “Are…are those juvenile Smokowcy?”

“Indeed they are,” Katarzyna whispered back. “The High Command ordered this mission because the draconic tribe believed their nesting areas impossible to reach due to the Maghrebi Desert. That bit of wisdom is going to fall today, as will every juvenile and Königin Drachen we can kill.”

Kasia looked questioningly at Katarzyna, “Königin Drachen?”

Katarzyna whispered, “Smokowcy have very few females. There are roughly fifty males per every female, so they are treated not unlike ant queens; they’re the most treasured members of the draconic race. They reproduce only with the strongest, smartest, and most fit males. They lay eggs constantly, so if we kill one, we’re really killing off the equivalent of dozens or more. Would you like the honor of killing that juvenile queen Dragonkin?”

Kasia looked over to see a small, white-skinned female, who differed from the adult queen Dragonkin they’d seen earlier in both scale and a lack of protective back spikes. The little queen was playing with a bunch of males, all of whom seemed to be following her lead.

Suddenly Kasia noticed a shift in the wind, and moments later the not-so-distant Dragonkin juveniles began sniffing the wind. Several began curiously walking towards where the four squads were hiding, although their outcropping was well above the juveniles’ heads.

“We’ve been noticed,” Katarzyna noted. “Thankfully for us none of those juveniles has any clue what a slayer smells like.”

There was a pair of roars, and abruptly a pair of massive queen Smokowcy trotted into the clearing and uttered a harsh bunch of lines at their young.

“However, I don’t think the old girls are so naïve,” Katarzyna commented. “Lillian, you will take your squad and kill that juvenile queen. Rima, your squad will take on the adult queen on the right, mine will take the other, and Bastia, have your squad kill the as many juveniles as possible.”

Lillian objected, “This is dishonorable.”

“Warfare is not about honor Lillian; what matters is who wins, now let’s go,” Katarzyna snapped.

Kasia followed the squad commanders and jumped down the small hill and into the valley. The juveniles seemed shocked at the appearance of four dozen slayers, as did their mothers. The massive, four-story tall queen Smokowcy hesitated, which was not typical in combat-hardened male Smokowcy.

“Let’s go,” Katarzyna shouted.

The four squads raced ahead as the two adult queens rushed to protect the fleeing juveniles, all of whom were at least one fourth their size or smaller. The valley echoed with the tremendous crush of Dragonkin feet as the slayers rushed in. Kasia noticed the little queen Smok had just run past the big queen Dragonkin on the right. Kasia followed Lillian as they diverged out towards the valley’s forest edge.

The big female was soon attacked by Rima’s squad. Given the queen Dragonkin’s massive size, it looked to Kasia as if Rima and her squad were having trouble landing mortal blows. Lillian was running at great speed, and jumped between two rocks. Kasia followed, and noticed Lillian make a great leap off a small ledge. Lillian’s jump carried her up and onto the back of an un-spiked, juvenile male.

The male made a panicked squeal as Lillian impaled her blade into the one-story tall creature. He tried to toss her off when Kasia’s comrades Rafael and Ichiro slashed the back of the Dragonkin’s legs. The male toppled to the ground, and his struggles were soon cut short by Kasia’s slashing through the spine. She spotted the juvenile queen not far away running at a good speed down the geyser and steaming vent-filled forest valley.

Kasia shouted, “James, Commander O’Malley, there’s our target!”

James raced ahead of Kasia as Bastia’s squad rushed up and began to take down male Dragonkin at leisure. The small queen headed up a rocky slope, towards an area that looked like it was where the Dragonkin napped away from the valley. James, Kasia, and the whole squad raced after the little queen, which had been looking back and squealing in terror.

Kasia was nearly to the rocky slope’s top, struggling to find footing in the loose volcanic soil. James reached the top and then suddenly stopped. Kasia could agree with his caution when she saw what they were facing.

A full half a dozen queen Smokowcy were formed up into a burgeoning circle around more than fifty younglings and juveniles. A couple of the queens were under-size, but the rest were clearly adults.

Lillian and the rest of the squad arrived and stopped short as they got the full measure of the massive opposition facing them.

“Crap,” James commented.

[revan5]

Spoiler for "The Silver-eyed Empress" Chapter 7, part 2:

(continued from previous)

Kasia knew that even though these queens had likely never faced combat their size and protective instincts meant Lillian’s squad was badly outmatched.

Lillian snapped, noticing the adults weren’t moving towards them, “Alright, fine, if they want to protect those juveniles, we’ll kill the rest they’re not guarding.”

Lillian descended the slope, as did the rest of the squad, and they intercepted the twenty juvenile males heading towards the shelter of their mothers. Kasia slashed through the bony protrusions protecting the neck of one male. They were too small however given his youth, and her blade slashed through them and his neck with ease. The horse-sized male gurgled a moment as she slashed open his neck, began to choke, and soon fell.

Rima ran up as her squad jumped atop and soon killed two more similarly-sized males. The other juvenile and youngling males scattered in terror as the three squads cut off their avenue to safety and attacked.

“We took care of our target; that’s one queen bitch down with only casualty,” Rima smiled. “Why the hell aren’t you going after that juvenile queen?”

Lillian yelled, running over, “Where’s Commander Katarzyna?”

“The other queen is proving to be a tough one to kill,” Rima stated. She’s lost two already trying to kill the monster. Did you kill that juvenile queen already?!?”

Lillian shook her head, “No, she’s being guarded up the hill near some caves by six adult queens, along with some fifty young males.”

Rima looked up the slope and smirked, “Well, too bad, I’d love to kill some more monsters.”

Pixie-haired Katherine rushed up, breathless, “Commanders,” Katherine gasped, “there’s a juvenile queen coming being guarded by twenty juvenile males. She’s trying to get to the adult queens!”

The three squads were immediately ordered to concentrate in opposition. Kasia could hear and feel the thunder of the juveniles’ footsteps before she saw them. They made a dramatic entrance across the valley by smashing down the fir trees as they emerged. Against the juveniles almost three dozen slayers were arrayed in a loose, enveloping crescent shape.

The juveniles hesitated, as adults would not, which gave the slayers all the time they needed to charge the group. Kasia dodged the attacks of two males as she rushed in. She cut off the arm of one male at the elbow, leaving him whimpering in pain. The other male, nearly twice the size and several tons large, knocked her off her feet with a well-aimed sweep of his un-spiked tail.

She landed on her back, and the juvenile male charged as she sat up. She drew her blade, but she realized in alarm he was not going to give her the time to defend herself. Just as he was about to crush her with his feet, James ran up and delivered a nasty slash to the juvenile. It squawked in surprise, drawing back as the horizontal slash across its side began to bleed.

It roared as Kasia got up and drew her blade. She set her body into a combat stance as the juvenile drew back and roared at a volume far less than that of the adult males she had previously encountered.

James taunted in the draconic tongue, “Ist das alles? Meine Großmutter war noch erschreckender als Sie!“

This taunt did not seem to sit well with the male juvenile Smok. He immediately charged at James while roaring his fury. James dodged underneath the male Dragonkin’s slashes, rolling to one side. Kasia took full advantage of the distracted Dragonkin ignoring her and darted in. She delivered a vicious vertical slash across the Dragonkin’s face.

He roared in pain as her sword cut into his flesh and slashed through his right eye. The juvenile backed off, clutching at his bloodied head with his right arm. Kasia was readying to finish him off when a slayer nearby screamed out in pain.

The dark-skinned Nana, one of Kasia’s comrades, had fallen to the ground clutching at the bloody stump where her left arm used to be. A particularly large juvenile Dragonkin had bitten off her left arm, and with relish he inclined his head and swallowed it in triumph.

Kasia started running to save Nana, who was desperately running towards the safety of Bastia and Bastia’s former dark-skinned commander, Leon Gonzalez. Kasia ducked under the sweeping tail of one male as the engagment turned into a maelstrom of flying dirt, dust, limbs, blood and screams. She jumped over one juvenile with ease only to see Nana’s attacker knock her down.

The Dragonkin then smashed its large, three-toed foot down upon her. Nana cried out in terrible pain, a scream at which Kasia’s stomach churned. Not satisfied with partly crushing Nana underneath him, the Dragonkin slashed down with its other foot and beheaded Nana. Kasia felt a terrible fury come upon her as she closed the distance on the triumphantly roaring one-story tall Smok.

She made a jump and landed on the Smok’s back and secured herself upon it by impaling her sword into him. He roared in alarm as she held on for dear life. He began to buck like a bronco, attempting to throw her off as her abused body was whipped up and down. Abruptly his resistance was ended, and Kasia found herself flung off as he toppled to the ground.

She landed like a cat, crouched, breathing hard. James, ran up, gasping, “Kasia, grab your sword, the juvenile queen’s making a run for it!”

Kasia turned to see a story-and-a-half tall, brilliant white Dragonkin rushing past escorted by a pair of large juvenile males. She pulled her sword out of the juvenile James had felled and sprinted after the juvenile queen. Bastia and Leon attempted to cut the queen’s escape to safety off. One male engaged Leon as the queen kept moving. The other attempted to slay Bastia.

The warrior princess cut off one of his long clawed fingers for his efforts. He roared in pain and shied from Bastia’s blade. Bastia turned to attack the juvenile queen as she passed, but the male whipped his tail around. He knocked Bastia into the air, and with a hard thud, she landed mere meters away from a scalding hot steam vent.

James shouted, “Kasia, I’ll save Bastia, go after the queen!”

Kasia and James diverged, with James jumping atop Bastia’s opponent in the nick of time. Kasia turned away from this and increased her pace as she closed the distance on the juvenile queen. Her lungs felt as if they were burning and would collapse at any moment. Despite this, Kasia knew she had no choice but to push herself to the brink. She jumped over the valley’s small stream moments after the juvenile queen reached it.

The queen had almost reached the slope to the safety of the six adult females when Kasia jumped in desperation. She did not so much land as impale her sword into the multi-ton creature and hang on for dear life. The female had just reached the top of the slope, coming into full view of the adult queen Smokowcy when she stumbled.

Kasia and her sword were dislodged. Kasia landed in a daze beside the juvenile queen, which was crying out in pain.

Kasia heard Rima’s voice taunt, “That, you monster, is why you can’t outrun a slayer. Go ahead and try to run; Lillian and I just slashed the backs of both your legs.”

Kasia blinked open her eyes to see Rima and Lillian approach the head of the fallen but alive female Smok. Kasia was emerging from her daze and standing up when a quartet of roars rang out. The four fully-grown queen Smokowcy appeared to not take kindly to Rima and Lillian trying to finish off the juvenile queen. The adults charged towards the three slayers, their three and four-story tall bodies shaking the ground.

Rima and Lillian froze up for but a moment as Rima exclaimed, “fuck!”

Rima and Lillian jumped backwards and scrambled down the slope behind the wounded juvenile queen. Kasia abruptly realized as the ground shook and the roars deafened her that she was the only one left to target. She scrambled to dodge the slashes of two four-story tall queen Smokowcy. She ran towards the slope, then tripped on a rock and unceremoniously fell down the slope.

Kasia hit the slope’s bottom and felt her left ankle ache. She painfully got up with Rima and Lillian’s help, gasping for breath. A quartet of defiant roars from a few hundred meters away concentrated her attention. She turned to see the four adult female Smokowcy forming a line at the top of the slope.

“Well so much for that,” Lillian gasped, her chest heaving from her exertions.

Kasia noticed the three of them were caked in wet and dry sweat, but thankfully it appeared the battle with the twenty juvenile males Smokowcy was over. All around the male Smokowcy lay dead, horrifically wounded, or possibly unconscious. Their limbs and bodies littered the forest valley meadow as steam vents continued churning all around as if nothing had happened.

“They’re not attacking,” Lillian noted. “Let’s back off a bit and make certain of our casualties.”

The three squads, which had numbered thirty-six strong at the day’s beginning, had seen their numbers thinned considerably. Kasia noticed she and Lillian were speckled with red Dragonkin’s blood as they walked through the carnage’s results. Kasia found one slayer nearly unconscious from blood loss and waved James over to help. The pale girl, barely thirteen, had lost her right arm and the legs below the knee.

Kasia turned away in distress and then promptly bumped into Lillian.

“Oww,” Kasia muttered, holding her right hand to her head.

Lillian was tearing up; looking down at all that remained of Nana’s maimed body. Kasia could only look once at the last expression upon Nana’s decapitated head before turning away in disquiet and terrible sadness.

Rima strode up, grinning, “Today is a great day. We killed more of those horrible monsters today than have ever been killed in a single day of this war’s history. Just look at—“

Lillian hissed, “How can it be a great day when your squad lost more people than anyone else’s?”

Rima grin vanished immediately, her face soon turning ashen when she saw the girl James was helping heal.

“Oh no, Alberta,” Rima gasped, rushing over to clutch the crying, horribly injured warrior’s hand.

James head snapped up abruptly and he ran over, having only helped re-grow both of the grimacing Alberta’s legs.

“Commander Katarzyna’s running this way; she’s got three subordinates left and her yoki is really stressed out,” James told them.

Bastia walked up, gasping for breath, with her well-built second-in-command, Leon Gonzalez, by her side. He was almost James height, but Kasia noticed Leon had a more muscular frame, although he didn’t quite resemble a body builder. His dark-skinned face was not unhandsome, and he had his blond hair arranged into braided “corn-rows”.

Gonzalez commented in a smooth voice, “Well, that’s it then. We meet up with Commander Yushchenka and get—“

His words were stilled by the chilling crescendo of approaching roars in the distance.

Commander Katarzyna emerged, breathing hard, from the far side of the valley and was trailed by her three remaining female subordinates. They were sprinting at full speed, approaching the remaining squads, who seemed surprised at Katarzyna’s desperation. Everyone was keeping a wary eye on the four Smokowcy queens observing them from above.

Katarzyna made waving motions at them.

Rima called out, “Commander, did you kill the other Smokowcy queen?!?”

Katarzyna ran up, pausing for a moment to gain her breath.

“She’s dead; only cost me two-thirds of the squad to kill,” Katarzyna said ruefully. “We have to get out of her NOW! Come on, follow me!”

Kasia followed as Katarzyna resumed running, this time in the direction opposite whence she had come. The mountains sloped down in this direction, and it appeared to Kasia it was all downhill.

Lillian yelled as the squad began to jog behind, “How many are you fleeing from?”

The answer was immediately provided when only a few hundred meters away over a dozen massive red-brown adult male Smokowcy emerged from the forest by flattening all of it in their way. A particularly massive male bellowed in fury upon sighting them and shook the earth as he and his fellows’ massive bodies began to charge at their maximum, plodding pace.

“Holy shit,” James exclaimed, looking in disbelief at the literal mountain of mass charging towards them.

Kasia and the slayers picked up the pace immediately as they headed downhill, easily keeping clear of the slower Dragonkin. It was the one blessing they had, as the average slayer could keep pace with a light horse. The Dragonkin, weighing as much as twenty tons, could only manage a pace similar to that of a human male at top speed. They were however famed for their incredible tracking abilities, as their walking pace was considerably greater than that of silver-eyed warriors’.

The four much reduced squads, which Kasia estimated had taken fifty percent casualties, jumped the increasingly large stream as the ground shook behind them. Eventually they came to a fork in the road and for once Commander Katarzyna scratched her head.

“I know we’re supposed to get picked up by the Alliance of Nations’ Navy once we reach the ocean, but I can’t remember which way it was to it,” Katarzyna stated to everyone’s general alarm. “Rima, I lost my map of the area during combat, does your scout have hers?”

Rima looked horror-struck, “My scout? Oh no, where’s Vitoria?!?”

Thirteen-year-old Alberta, who was in the midst of re-growing one arm, whimpered, “Commander, Vitoria’s dead!”

A roar from behind them reminded them that the pursuit was still very much active. Kasia saw the particularly massive male Smok from earlier several hundred meters away.

“There’s no time,” Katarzyna snapped, “I think it was the left fork! Come on!”

Kasia was about to follow when Rima looked back and gasped. They were situated furthest to the right and were moving to follow. Rima suddenly changed track and tackled Kasia as a massive rock smashed into the sheer rock face behind them. A moment later Kasia felt herself sliding down a steep rock slope with Rima atop her. They landed in a painful heap in the bottom of what appeared to be a dead-end.

There were sheer rock walls on all sides but from where they had come, and if they didn’t get back up the slope in time they would surely be killed. Lillian was peering down at them in anguish.

Lillian yelled, “Come on; get up here before he throws another! He’s coming!”

Lillian, nearly two hundred meters up and even further away, ducked. A massive rock flew over Lillian’s head and smashed into the cliff behind her. Lillian ran off in the opposite direction as Kasia heard the approach of the massive male Dragonkin.

“We’re fucked,” Rima said, sure that their fate was sealed.

The massive Smok’s head came into view, and then moments later so did a pair of his smaller, red-brown male comrades. Their escape was now cut off, and Kasia could feel her heartbeat pounding.

The fork they had fallen down into was a dead end, its only exit back to where the Dragonkin were talking in low, rumbling tones. Worse, the slope back up was steep enough to make dodging past the Dragonkin, now four strong, impossibility. On every other side were cliff faces hundreds of meters tall with no notches to climb.

The massive male nodded in Kasia and Rima’s direction and made what sounded like a business-like command, “Tötet sie.“

“I never thought we would go out like this,” Rima cried, tears flowing from her eyes.

A pair of male Dragonkin began to descend the slope towards them, their expressions grim, and their voices silent. Kasia felt tears coming down as well as they made a final hug. Kasia put her head over Rima’s right shoulder as Rima did likewise. She could feel a panicked sweating come over her as their doom came ever closer.

Kasia stared ahead at a dark crevasse in the rocks, “Rima, I have a confession to make. I really do like James, but the only reason I never slept with him is I’m afraid of sex.”

Rima sighed, “Will you forgive me for being an ass on your birthday?”

“Of course,” Kasia cried, wiping away tears with a hand.

Kasia stared ahead at the dark crevasse in contemplation of her life as the Dragonkin at last reached the bottom of the slope.

“At least I can die by your side,” Rima cried. “It’s been an honor to be your sister. You want to go out in a blaze of glory or—“

Kasia’s eyes noticed in shock that the crevasse appeared as if its bottom was visible and that it might be descending. The first of the Dragonkin was holding back its arm for the killing blow when she decided to chance the crevasse. She grabbed Rima and rushed towards the dark hole in the cliff-face. A tremendous roar of surprise echoed around them as Kasia jumped, with Rima held in one arm, face first into the crevasse.

It turned out to be a slide-like tunnel, and soon they were descending, screaming, at great speed down its smooth surfaces. It was completely pitch black, so every surprise turn, twist, bump, and change in the rate of descent was terrifying. Rima found it even worse, as she was sliding down sideways atop Kasia’s body.

Suddenly, they were dumped unceremoniously in a pile of loose sand. Kasia and Rima took to spitting sand out of their mouths. They found themselves in a light-filled rocky chamber. Its ceiling was dotted with holes, through which the sun’s light was falling upon them.

Rima cried in happiness, “We’re alive, we’re fucking alive!”

There was no harshness in the way Rima had used the profanity Kasia noticed. They soon hugged, crying tears of joy, their chests heaving from the experience they had just endured. Kasia extracted herself from the sand, and then helped pull Rima free. A look around found the chamber had multiple exits. They took the largest exit to the right. They emerged to find themselves in a cave of a sort. Its ceiling was dotted with a few holes, through which reassuring light poured.

It was fairly dry, although Kasia smelled something bizarre.

Kasia asked, “Is it just me Rima, or do you smell the ocean?”

Rima sniffed, “No, I smell it too. Haha! And to think, we thought we were goners! You are the best, most caring sister anyone could ask for!”

Rima kissed Kasia in gratitude on both cheeks, at which Kasia blushed as Rima kept complimenting her. Eventually they moved on and stumbled through a number of tunnels, smiling in gratitude for being alive.

Rima asked, “Do you think they could follow us down here?”

Kasia smiled, “There’s no way; that tunnel was far too small for anything but young juveniles, and they’d never risk their young getting injured going down an unknown tunnel.”

Rima sprinted forward as Kasia heard the crash of waves. Rima smiled and waved her forward to the edge of a cliff-face.

“It’s a sea-cave Kasia,” Rima exclaimed, pointing downwards.

Sure enough there was a visible entrance to the sea beyond. At the cave’s bottom was a large, calm pool with crystal clear water. A few holes in the cave’s ceiling gave the whole place a heavenly, soothing feel as the sun’s light lit the brilliant clear blue waters. The cliff they were on the edge of was roughly fifteen meters above the water; a tad too high to safely jump.

“Come on Kasia,” Rima laughed, “I bet we can beat Lillian and the others to the fleet.”

They rushed through a series of increasingly large chambers, each with a hole at their peak. Kasia, still hobbling a little with a swollen left ankle, was lagging further behind her ever-healthy stepsister. She saw a huge opening in the rock to open sky and ran towards the last chamber. Rima had stopped at the chamber’s entrance and held out her arm to bar her way.

Kasia sighed, “Oh come on Rima, what’s the matter?”

“This opening, look at how there are large scratches all around its edges,” Rima said, a bit of fear creeping into Rima’s voice. “This opening, it’s large enough to have been scratched out by a Smok. Come on, we need to find another way to the sea.”

Rima grabbed Kasia and led her back. They took a left towards the sea into an impressive, even larger chamber. It too had a hole at the top, which looked to Kasia as if it might not be as natural as it first appeared.

A small, human-sized hole led out onto a rocky outcropping a mere meter above the sea. Kasia cracked a huge smile as she felt the sun’s rays falling upon her, felt the sea’s comforting scent in her nose, and felt the freedom of the sea’s winds upon her face. Kasia sighed in gratitude as she noticed that a quartet of warships upon the horizon was flying the blue and gold-starred standard of the Alliance of Nations.

“Rima, I can see the fleet,” Kasia laughed.

Rima however had not followed her onto the rocky outcropping, so Kasia rushed back to the chamber. Rima was standing near a massive pile of straw and tree branches, a mound that was as tall at its edges as Rima was tall, and many times as wide.

“Rima,” Kasia whispered to her still stepsister, “what’s the matter?”

“We’re in a nesting chamber,” Rima said quietly. “We’ve got to get out of here as soon as—“

Rima’s speech was cut off by a surprising squeak from something in the nest. Kasia and Rima drew their blades, looking carefully towards the massive entrance as they approached. Rima crested the mound’s top first and gasped. Kasia did likewise when she saw what Rima did.

There was a clutch of three massive eggs lying in a mat of straw below them. Each was colored a rich red, except for the center egg, which was a brilliant turquoise blue. The eggs were roughly half their height and bigger across than their torsos. The right-most egg had a crack in it, from which yet another squeak was uttered.

“Oh my god,” Kasia muttered. “They’re Dragonkin eggs. Rima, do you realize no outsider has ever seen Dragonkin eggs before?!?”

“Good, we’ll get to kill a few more of the bastards,” Rima declared.

Kasia objected, “No, no, no, do you realize our opportunity here?”

Rima snapped, “Those bastards killed my family like a bunch of animals.”

Kasia raised an eyebrow, patting the eggs for emphasis, “A bunch of unhatched Dragonkin killed your family?”

“You know what I meant,” Rima sighed. “Come on, let’s just kill them.”

A bit of eggshell exploded outwards as a mottled red-brown head that vaguely resembled an adult Dragonkin stuck out. It was busily trying to get out of the eggshell, but not making especially quick progress. Kasia noticed a pile of watermelons nearby and came up with an idea.

She rushed over to the watermelons, grabbed three of them, and lugged them back to an incredulous-looking Rima.

Rima closed her eyes and sighed, “What is it you think you’re doing Kasia?”

“They’re worth a lot more alive than dead Rima,” Kasia stated. “If we could bring them back alive to the Alliance of Nations it’d be a huge feat.”

“You want to risk bringing three Dragonkin hatchlings back to—“

Rima’s objection was cut off by the male hatchling having at last escaped the clutches of his egg, which he split wide open. The hatchling had a short tail, awkwardly large feet, and an oversize head with vaguely cute big eyes. He was licking off the slime from his egg quickly when he glanced up straight at Rima.

Rima frowned, “What the hell is it you want to do with this…’thing’?”

Rima and Kasia were surprised a moment later when the baby male Dragonkin squeaked at Rima again, this time more insistently. Rima took a step back and walked off.

“Alright, fine, you deal with him,” Rima growled.

Kasia walked forward with the watermelons, intending to feed the hatchling. It scarcely looked at Kasia despite her gesturing with the food. Instead it scrambled up the side of the nest, and then rolled awkwardly end-over-end to the nest’s bottom. A moment later it squeaked again and then awkwardly tried to walk towards Rima.

Rima, never known for her sympathy towards Dragonkin, promptly swatted the Dragonkin away with her right foot, bowling him over.

“Rima,” Kasia hissed, “come on, don’t do that.”

“I don’t give a damn if it’s a baby,” Rima declared. “It’s still a monster!”

The baby male Dragonkin got back onto its feet awkwardly. It eyed Rima again and this time approached with its head low in a submissive stance. It awkwardly walked towards her as Rima eyed the mottled-red hatchling with distaste.

“Quit following me you damn thing,” Rima yelled.

Rima was about to kick it before Kasia could stop her when the baby Dragonkin made a series of whimpers. Rima’s foot stopped, but her scorn did not.

“Stay there,” Rima snapped. “I had better not see you following me again!”

Rima walked towards the hole that led to the sea, but as she did so the baby Smok followed despite the angry threatening, alternatively squeaking and whimpering for attention.

Kasia gasped, “Um, Rima, this is just a wild guess, but I think it imprinted on you.”

Rima shouted, “It did what?!?”

“Well,” Kasia sighed as the Dragonkin approached even closer to the annoyed Rima’s feet, “birds like ducks and geese will imprint on whatever they see first as their parent. I believe it thinks you are its mother.”

“Kasia,” Rima hissed, “what have you got me into?”

“Hey, it’s your fault for being the first thing it saw. I just—“

The baby Dragonkin was busy erasing any doubts Kasia had about what had happened. It had used the distraction of them talking to approach Rima and had suddenly taken to rubbing its body against Rima’s legs while squeaking.

“Goddamit Kasia, my idea of success on this mission wasn’t mothering a monster,” Rima complained while she grabbed the Dragonkin with her arms and then dumped it back in the nest. “I most certainly didn’t sign up for this, and now look at the damn thing, it’s—“

Rima’s complaints cut off as Kasia heard a second squeak join the first. Kasia hurried over to the nest’s top to find the left-most egg had hatched, a baby male Dragonkin eagerly squeaking for Rima’s attention as well.

Kasia smirked, “Well, was that my fault as well?”

“Dammit, now I’ve got two of these things bugging me,” Rima loudly complained. “Don’t just stand there, help me shut them up!”

Kasia took out her sword.

“Woah, I thought you said we weren’t killing them,” Rima pointed out.

Kasia ignored Rima, dropped a watermelon onto the floor, and promptly sliced it in half. She picked up the split watermelon and handed it to Rima.

Rima complained, “Oh come on, why do I have to feed them too? Look at these horrible things; they’re already trying to bend me to their will with all this squeaking and whimpering!”

“If you feed them they’ll shut up,” Kasia pointed out.

“Yeah, for about one day,” Rima countered. “How the hell was it my destiny to be mama to these monsters?”

“Just give them the watermelons,” Kasia instructed.

The two Dragonkin hatchlings had once again gotten to the nest’s top, whereupon Kasia noticed each was roughly the size of a Labrador retriever. One curled its body around the annoyed Rima’s legs while the more recently hatched male clumsily fell and rolled out of the nest. Kasia laughed at the antics going on at Rima’s expense.

Rima dropped the watermelon into the nest. The male hatchling curled around her leg hurried over and sniffed in curiosity at the watermelon half. He then looked back at Rima while squeaking.

Rima asked, “Kasia, are you sure these things will eat fruit?”

“Well, someone, probably a Dragonkin, put a whole bunch of watermelons in the nesting chamber,” Kasia pointed out. “Besides, everyone knows Smokowcy are omnivores. It’s why they’re much better allies to have than purely carnivorous monsters.”

Rima sighed, grabbing half of the watermelon and biting in.

“Well,” Rima said after chewing and spitting out the seed, “If they won’t eat, I will. Man I am hungry.”

Kasia noticed the baby Dragonkin in the nest and the other one were both observing Rima carefully, and then both converged on the other half of the unspoilt watermelon. However, this was not enough to go around, and the two males promptly began biting at one another as they fought over the food.

Rima dragged them apart, “Stop that, the two of you! There’s plenty of damn watermelon. Kasia, smash the other ones in the nest.”

Kasia smiled, as Rima had already seemingly given in to the hatchlings’ expectations. She smashed the other two watermelons in the nest, which were promptly gone down the gullets of the hungry hatchlings.

“I guess we’ll need a few more,” Rima sighed. “You had better be right about these things being valuable.”

Rima and Kasia had smashed another ten watermelons in the nest and watched as they were all eaten when a distant roar reminded them where they were.

“Hell, we’ve got to get out of here,” Rima declared. “Ah come on, don’t fall asleep on me now!”

The baby male hatchlings, now stuffed full of watermelon, had curled up at Rima’s feet in the nest and promptly fallen asleep.

“Kasia, help me carry them,” Rima ordered.

Kasia grabbed the more recently hatched male, who proved surprisingly heavy and carried him in her arms. He scarcely opened an eye to see whether Rima was close before falling asleep in Kasia’s arms yet again. They had carried both of the males outside.

“Please tell me you’ve got that flare Kasia,” Rima pleaded.

Kasia took a red flare out of her belt, found a match, and struck it. The flare burned red as they waved it at the approaching fleet, a number of familiar yokis seeming to be on board.

Rima stated, “Alright, we take these two to the fleet and—“

They heard a squeak, and they both looked down to find the two males sound asleep on the rocks not far from the flare.

“Oh no, not another,” Rima sighed. “I’ll go and see to getting it fed.”

Kasia saw the fleet make a series of signals saying a landing party would come to pick them up. It was a huge relief until Rima shouted.

“Kasia, get in here!”

Kasia ran back into the nesting chamber and found Rima staring at something in the nest. Kasia clambered to the side of the nest, looked down, and gasped.




“Well, I have to admit I didn’t think they’d survive,” Lillian sighed in relief.

James smiled in reply as he hung onto the ship’s railing and enjoyed the breeze.

They were atop the wooden deck of the ANS Novograd, or Alliance of Nations’ Ship Novograd, a substantial galleon with numerous small cannons lining its sides in its lower decks. Three masts stretched far overhead, although the sails weren’t unfurled, as they were at anchor. It was a pure, sunny day overhead. There was some melancholy from losing so many slayers in the mission, with Lillian taking it the hardest.

James was not far behind in his depression, feeling he had failed Rima and Kasia and would never get to see them again. It was thus a great joy to see their flare on the shore. A couple of dinghies had been sent out to pick them up. He was watching as Kasia and Rima approached in different dinghies, each having what looked like red-brown dogs seated beside them.

He commented to Lillian, who was still wearing her white desert gear, “Why are Kasia and Rima bringing back a couple of dogs?”

“I have no idea,” the curly-haired Lillian murmured, looking just as curious as he was.

“You know Lillian, we did do pretty well considering,” James said, trying to kill time until Kasia got back. “We crossed the supposedly impassable, 2000-kilometer wide Maghrebi Desert in a year. We killed two queen Smokowcy and about thirty juvenile males, and even injured a juvenile female all while taking twenty-six casualties. We’ve never taken anywhere close to one-to-one casualties before fighting Smokowcy.”

“Don’t get too used to it Havel,” Katarzyna’s voice interjected.

Katarzyna, wearing what looked to be a red-and-white kimono, walked up to his left.

James stammered, “Um, Comander Yushchenka, why are you—“

“I made a bargain with the captain of the ship to get us back sooner if I slept with him,” Katarzyna admitted. “He wanted me to wear the customary dress of women in his homeland, so I’m obliging him.”

James objected, “But Commander…”

Katarzyna reassured, “It’s okay, I don’t mind. We’ll get taken straight to Visegrad this way in about half a year less.”

“Oh,” was all James managed to Katarzyna’s pragmatic approach to lovemaking.

Katarzyna’s eyes narrowed as she eyed the dogs in the dinghies. Kasia and Rima were nearly to the side of the galleon when Katarzyna gasped.

“Oh…my,” Katarzyna said, looking awestruck as she stared down at the Romanow sisters. “Those aren’t dogs…those are Dragonkin hatchlings!”

Nearly every crewman and slayer in earshot rushed over, and they were soon joined by others who wanted to know what all the commotion was about.

Bastia hurried up holding Leon Gonzalez’s hand and asked, “What’s going on? I know Kasia and Rima are almost on board, but what’s—“

Kasia shouted, “Alright, pull it up!”

A set of sailors tugged in rhythm as James eyes went wide as he saw what squawking thing was being pulled upwards. It was pulled clear of the crowd and then dropped gingerly onto the deck before a shocked-looking Bastia, who tripped as she backpedaled away from it. Kasia and Rima soon came up with two red-brown male Dragonkin hatchlings sound asleep in their arms. They deposited them next to the one everyone was still shocked to see.

James pointed in disbelief at what he was seeing and asked Kasia, “Kasia, is that what I think it is?”

Kasia looked down at the squeaking hatchling, which was begging Rima for attention as the crowd gathered around on deck for a better look. The pure white Dragonkin hatchling took the crowd’s attention in stride, and eagerly gobbled the fish Rima threw at its feet.

Kasia smiled, “What’s the matter James? Never seen a domesticated queen Dragonkin before?”

James snapped awake from the pleasant dream, feeling a prodding hand on his arm. A very familiar face with arched eyebrows, big silver eyes, tan skin, and a lovely feminine chin was a meter away. James jumped to attention and saluted immediately.

“I’m terribly sorry Your Imperial Highness,” he apologized to Crown Princess Rima. “I was merely resting after my shift.”

Rima was only wearing a simple black and white-lined nightgown that fell to her knees. Compared to Kasia, Rima was more voluptuous, and had plenty of stately, straight blond hair. He had gone outside Praha Palace after the war meeting, wandered into the nearby gardens, and fallen asleep on a bench. It was thus with some surprise that he found Rima in her nightgown wandering around the imperial gardens at night.

“Crown Princess, I must respectfully ask that you return to the palace for your safety,” James suggested. “There is a good chance that an assassin—“

“It’s alright Lieutenant Commander,” Katja Tymoshenko interrupted.

James noticed that some fifty full-armored members of the Silver Guard were all around, as well as another couple hundred Imperial Guardsmen.

“The grounds are now the most heavily protected area anywhere in the world,” Tymoshenko lectured. “I’m sure we can—“

James countered, “Have you forgotten who was nearly assassinated right under our noses?”

Katja did not much like hearing of her security failure.

“That was because—“

“The two of you knock it off,” Rima interrupted. “I’m not going to be out here long. Just long enough to see my girl.”

James followed along, and a minute later, lying in the midst of a fountain-bordered clearing, was a pure white, large queen Dragonkin. The female Dragonkin lifted her head and rumbled affectionately at Rima’s approach.

“Matka,” the Dragonkin rumbled in a pleased voice.

“Duchess,” Rima sighed, “How’s my favorite female Dragonkin?”

Duchess stood up, easily dwarfing her “Matka”, which meant “mother” in the empire’s official tongue. Duchess had no bony protrusions protecting her neck, making her sleeker than her male peers, Sturm and Drang. She still had the large teeth, oblong head, fin-shaped back spikes, and spike-topped tail like the males though. Her brilliant white hide was the most obvious differentiator as the two-story tall Dragonkin leaned down to greet Rima.

Rima rubbed Duchess’ throat affectionately, “Any luck with catching a trail?”

Duchess uttered a displeased rumble, “Well, we could find a trail, but those two idiots won’t stop fighting over who will mount me. I told them whoever could track down the perpetrator could do it. They’ll be stuck searching forever with that kind of motivation.”

James found his mouth open in shock at how openly Duchess admitted that her brothers were attempting to mate with her. Ordinarily such things must surely never have happened, but Duchess was coming into breeding age and she was the only queen Smok her brothers could mate with. Perhaps, James thought, they didn’t think much about the possible consequences if they didn’t have a choice in how to satisfy their innate drives.

Rima asked in a concerned voice, “You don’t look well dear. Have you been eating properly?”

“I think so,” Duchess rumbled back. “Is father still invading our empire?”

James stomach clenched at this question.

Rima signed, “Yes, as far as I know, Iron Claws is the Dragon Chieftain’s second-in-command. He’s probably still trying to reclaim you from us.”

“He’s an idiot if he thinks I’ll leave you,” Duchess rumbled in displeasure.

Rima smiled, “I’m glad you think so. You look like you’re in pain.”

“Just a little,” Duchess admitted.

James stepped forward with a scrap of clothing he wanted Duchess to sniff.

James asked, “Crown Princess would Duchess mind testing this piece of clothing?”

Rima’s eyes narrowed, “What is this about Havel?”

“At the war meeting this evening, I saw Duke Djugashvili grin after hearing about your sister’s delayed recovery,” James stated.

“Lieutenant Commander,” Rima sighed, “I may not like Sergei, but I am not as vindictive as Queen Comnenus. I’m not going to kill him on a mere grin seen by a single bodyguard.”

“If he’s innocent, then Duchess should never have encountered his scent on the assassin’s clothing,” James reasoned. “Crown Princess, please, we don’t have any other leads.”

Rima looked to be in deep contemplation as she patted Duchess’ head.

“Alright James,” Rima agreed, “but what is this clothing you have?”

“Duke Djugashvili’s laundry Crown Princess,” he informed Rima.

Rima grabbed it and put it before Duchess’ nose, “Duchess dear, did you smell this scent upon the assassin at all?”

Duchess breathed in deeply, closing her eyes for a moment and then replied, “Well…I’m not sure.”

Rima snapped, “What do you mean you’re not sure?”

Duchess rumbled, “There was another scent on the assassin, but it was very faint. However that scent is vaguely familiar.”

Rima gasped, “Vaguely familiar?!?”

Duchess nodded, “I’m not totally sure, but I think I may have smelled that scent before.”

“Havel,” Rima snapped, “You have my full authority as acting Sovereign to investigate this matter immediately. I want you to keep it small; ten to fifteen people. We don’t want Sergei catching wind of our suspicions.”

Tymoshenko asked, “Crown Princess, should we not relieve Sergei of command on suspicion of treason?”

Rima cursed, “Right in the middle of the fucking invasion! Goddamn this. No, he’ll stay in his position as the Reserve Army’s officer. I want you to contact the Deputy Interior Minister immediately. We don’t have any hard evidence, but if you find anything, contact me immediately Havel.”

[revan5]

"Claymore: New Era"

Prologue:http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3811

Chapter 1: http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3788
http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3789

Chapter 2: http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3791
http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3792

Chapter 3: http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3793
http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3794

Chapter 4: http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3795
http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3796

Chapter 5: http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3806
http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3807

Chapter 6: http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3808
http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3809

Chapter 7: http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3816
http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3817

Chapter 8: http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3842
http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3843

Chapter 9: http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3845
http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3846

Please note that even though "Claymore: New Era" is completed, I am still accepting constructive critiques and reviews at this time. (You can find even better versions of several chapters already on fanfiction.net: http://www.fanfiction.net/anime/Clay.../0/5043/1/0/1/) I will be updating the ff.net chapters weekly with the latest and greatest versions, so I would urge you to read them there. You can send me or post your reviews here however.

In the meantime I'll be steadily constructing "The Silver-eyed Empress" Section with new posts. The eight chapters so far come out to around 141 pages in MS Word, so be warned it is fairly epic.



"The Silver-eyed Empress"

Prologue: http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3871

Chapter 1: http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3873
http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3874

Chapter 2: http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3878
http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3879

Chapter 3: http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3892
http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3893

Chapter 4: http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3894
http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3895

Chapter 5: http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3927
http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3928

Chapter 6: http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3929
http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3930

Chapter 7: http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3933
http://forums.animesuki.com/showpost...postcount=3934

[FormerAbyssalone]

^Damn Revan, it looks like I've got some catching up 2 do!

[Blue Pentacle]

Hi There,


I hope everyone is well on the forum, since last time, and I am glad that the current chapter of "Strange Consorts" was enjoyed; my thanks to Shiek927 for their considerate feedback and encouragement, throughout the work .


I have a little news and something new to bring to the forum today, which might interest some .


For the moment, "Strange Consorts" will be taking a bit of a break; I have a good scheme of future stories for the Abyssal and the boy, but there are other demands on my attention and time, which will grow in the forseeable future. Later, I hope to return to the story and hopefully expand upon what has already passed between Luciela and Raki.


Also, I have been pondering a bit, as I am inclined too, and have been courting a interesting idea; which has appeared in the past, but has since subsided in the comings and goings on the forum.


Again, I would like to thank those who considered a more Yuma focused work earlier, as that is still being researched, though, for the moment, I would like to return to that old classic of pairings; in particular Raki X ?


In this case, I have been thinking of the consequences if it was not Clare who allowed Raki to follow on, but Yuma...


Any perspectives or opinions on this would be very welcome as you see fit.


Thanks,


Blue Pentacle.

[Weird D]

Originally Posted by Blue Pentacle

Hi There,


I hope everyone is well on the forum, since last time, and I am glad that the current chapter of "Strange Consorts" was enjoyed; my thanks to Shiek927 for their considerate feedback and encouragement, throughout the work .


I have a little news and something new to bring to the forum today, which might interest some .


For the moment, "Strange Consorts" will be taking a bit of a break; I have a good scheme of future stories for the Abyssal and the boy, but there are other demands on my attention and time, which will grow in the forseeable future. Later, I hope to return to the story and hopefully expand upon what has already passed between Luciela and Raki.


Also, I have been pondering a bit, as I am inclined too, and have been courting a interesting idea; which has appeared in the past, but has since subsided in the comings and goings on the forum.


Again, I would like to thank those who considered a more Yuma focused work earlier, as that is still being researched, though, for the moment, I would like to return to that old classic of pairings; in particular Raki X ?


In this case, I have been thinking of the consequences if it was not Clare who allowed Raki to follow on, but Yuma...


Any perspectives or opinions on this would be very welcome as you see fit.


Thanks,


Blue Pentacle.

Sorry for the lack of feedback, it's just that I'm a crappy reviewer; I tend to focus more on 'enjoyment' rather than 'criticism' Still I really enjoyed the last chapter.

Anyway, for this new idea, a good point of focus would be the difference in how Yuma sees herself and how Raki would see her. Yuma's unique because she's insecure in her abilities and feels inadequate, something that even Clare, or Clarice, never showed despite being considered failures. On the other hand, Raki would simply believe in Yuma's abilities, regardless of what happens, and of how she does in battle.

Another point is that Yuma sees herself as expendable and, due to this, probably doesn't care much whether she lives or not (as seen when the Ghosts leave the North). So you'd have to establish Raki as her strongest (maybe even only) reason to survive, and think of how such a bond would change her as a person.

Noy much I know, but that's all I can think of.

[Shiek927]

Dany pretty much summed up my thoughts; you're breaking new ground Blue simply by making a Yuma-centric fic since I can't actually think of one off the top of my head.

Go for it! ^_^

[revan5]

Originally Posted by Shiek927

Dany pretty much summed up my thoughts; you're breaking new ground Blue simply by making a Yuma-centric fic since I can't actually think of one off the top of my head.

Go for it! ^_^

Ahem Shiek, somebody forgot to mention a certain Dark Lord having the only fanfic on ff.net that has Renee as a major supporting character. Go ahead and check. Yep, it's the only one! Nice to have two authors breaking totally new ground for your sake. Expect ff.net version of "Claymore: New Era" chapter 6 to be up sometime this weekend btw. It'll be worth the wait, I assure you.

[Shiek927]

Originally Posted by revan5

Ahem Shiek, somebody forgot to mention a certain Dark Lord having the only fanfic on ff.net that has Renee as a major supporting character. Go ahead and check. Yep, it's the only one! Nice to have two authors breaking totally new ground for your sake. Expect ff.net version of "Claymore: New Era" chapter 6 to be up sometime this weekend btw. It'll be worth the wait, I assure you.

Your fic doesn't count Revan . Is Renee the main character of your story? Is it a centric fic where nearly the entire story is centered around her, her character and development?

You can't have an epic starring many characters and call it the same thing; regardless you do a nice job with development in your story