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AN: It was oh-so tempting to unleash a bunch of fluffiness family goodness in this chapter, but I restrained myself. Those scenes can be for the book of oneshots. Best remain on track with this fic. I’m thinking five chapters with a short epilogue. Also long chapter, ahoy! Well, anyway, hope you enjoy reading!
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Chapter 4:
Rahas crouched down in front of the fireplace, busying himself with lighting a fire as evening was fast approaching. Gerald had been released from hospital and sent home to rest. And to watch over Ghali.
Yet, the older gunner mustn’t have been listening to the medical instructions of taking it easy that Lynus had spouted at him. Instead, as soon as they got home, he set about creating a place for Ghali to sleep. He and Shiki agreed that, for the night at least, Ghali will sleep in their bed with Gerald, while Shiki slept on the couch with Rahas.
Simmons, of course, offered his bed to Rahas, but he declined. The guy himself had a rough night last night. It would be better for him to try to get a good night’s sleep, too.
Speaking of Simmons, he currently occupied the couch, busy entertaining a babbling Ghali.
Their introduction went as smoothly as everyone had expected. Lynus had introduced Ghali to him, and being the gentle guy he actually was, Simmons knelt down to his level. And introduced himself as Ghali new big brother.
That immediately put the kid’s anxiety at ease. And he latched on him nearly immediately.
Rahas had to admit that it was…cute. He thought he would be annoyed with the tooth-rotting cuteness. But he honestly found it, well, endearing.
With the kid kept busy, and Gerald busy himself getting the bed suitable for a young kid, Shiki had slipped out the back with Farley to gather more wood for the fire. And to rummage around the storage shed back there, silently searching for the clothes that Simmons had when he was a kid.
Even so, he had sent Tiffany and Kerri on a quick errand to buy some kiddie clothes for Ghali. At least pyjamas for the night. The clothes he had on him had…smears of his father’s blood all over them.
With the fire sparking to life, Rahas sat cross-legged on the floor and simply stared into the flames. Everything was moving rather quickly. Unfairly so, honestly. It felt to him that Gerald and Shiki hadn’t had time to properly mourn the brutal murder of an old friend and teammate. They certainly hadn’t been given time to fully comprehend that they had a dependent to take care of.
Though, maybe it was for the best that they didn’t have time to dwell on it?
Rahas had no clue of what to say. What to do. If anything. It was incredibly frustrating.
An unexpected noise caused Rahas to raise his head to listen.
Was that…a whistle…?
Shit!
Rahas snapped his head around in a flurry in Simmons’ direction, and watched as the blue-haired landsknecht’s usually bright eyes became dull and vacant. He was unnaturally still before his body jerked forward.
Where he snatched Ghali up off the couch.
Rahas felt his heart leap into his throat as Simmons wound his large arms around Ghali, holding him firmly against. The little blond was obvious to the potential danger he was in.
Simmons would never, ever hurt someone as small and fragile as Ghali. But “It”, that thing he turned into after the sound of a certain noise, just might.
He had to do something!
“Simmons!”
But before he could do anything, Simmons twitched and backed away from him sharply. With one arm wrapped around Ghali, he snared his sword with the other. He didn’t even look for it. He instinctively knew where it was.
And a split second after that, he was out the door.
Fuck! God damn, shit!
“Shiki! Gerald! Simmons in that trance again!”
That might not be the right words as he was acting differently than how he had been the other day. But from the thousand-yard stare and the unnatural movements, there was no other way to put it. It wasn’t Simmons that was in control.
It was “It”.
Gerald was the first out of his bedroom, staggering slightly because of his still tender injuries. He immediately searched for Ghali with his eyes and soon became panic-stricken when he couldn’t find him.
“Where’s Ghali?” He demanded, though didn’t wait for an answer as he was already out of the front door as Shiki stormed through the back door, having heard Rahas’ yell.
Not bothering to waste time or energy demanding what had happened, Shiki snatched up his katana set by the front door and followed Gerald out. And Rahas himself was hot on his heels.
As the trio followed Simmons through the gradually emptying afternoon streets, it soon dawned upon Rahas where Simmons was heading; into the labyrinth.
Skidding around a corner, nearly stumbling over his own feet in the attempt to keep up, his gaze fell upon a familiar redhead.
Axel had appeared from a side path, axe resting on his back and his attention turned toward the path leading into the labyrinth. He no doubt had seen either Gerald or Shiki and was wondering what the hell was going on.
“Hurry up and follow!” Rahas shouted at him as he sped past him.
“What the hell was going on?” Just as Rahas had predicted, but thankfully the redhead had asked that while sprinting after him.
“Long story. Simmons is in a trance. He has Ghali. And I think that Ahimoth bastard is involved.”
It was no coincidence. No other explanation. That bastard was responsible. He somehow knew of Simmons’…affliction.
Axel didn’t ask any more questions after that, causing Rahas to briefly wondered if he had some knowledge about “It” also. But he pushed that thought aside, instead concentrating on getting into the labyrinth.
The situation was not in their favour. Especially not if that bastard was involved. But what choice did they have? Both Ghali and Simmons were in danger.
Following the fleeing images of Shiki and Gerald in front of him, the two older men surprisingly nimble on their feet, they soon reached a small clearing in what Rahas estimated to be the far corner of the first floor.
There, stood in the centre of the clearing, was Simmons. With Ghali still in his arms. Alive and unharmed. And before them stood…Ahimoth.
Rahas skidded to a halt, next to Shiki and Gerald and gritted his teeth. He knew it. He just knew that bastard was responsible!
“Ahimoth!” Shiki snarled and unsheathed his blade violently. His voice was so filled with hatred that it honestly shocked Rahas for a moment. He had never heard the man utter anything with such rage before.
It wasn’t a surprise, however.
“Hello, Shiki. Long-time no see,” Ahimoth said, sadistically cheerily in response. “A ronin now, I see. What a career change! And Gerald, looking spritely for someone your age. I’m impressed!”
Such a patronizing asshole.
“Give Ghali back,” Gerald all but pleaded as he took a step forward. “He’s…he’s just a child.”
Ahimoth, however, smirked. He reached down into the collar of his cloak and revealed…a whistle.
Rahas felt a chill race down his spine as Ahimoth brought the whistle to his lips. And blew into it.
Immediately, Simmons staggered forward a step. And then another.
“Already attached to the kid, Gerald? I think I might keep the kid myself then,” Ahimoth jeered.
Gerald took another hasty step forward, only to land roughly on his injured leg and he abruptly crumbled to his knees, landing heavily on his hands. Shiki instinctively dropped down by his side, hand on his back to help him.
But Gerald frantically shook his head and tried to push himself to his feet himself. “No. Stop him. He’ll-“
Ghali suddenly let out a terrified cry, everyone immediately snapping their attention back to the small kid, expecting the worse. But Ghali was still sat in Simmons’ arms. He had his hands grasping at Simmons’ muscular shoulder, clutching onto him, so afraid.
“No! Bad man! Bad man hurt mummy and daddy!”
Simmons stilled suddenly, though his gaze remained vacant and distant. He then equally suddenly dropped down to one knee. And set Ghali down onto his feet. As he pulled his arm back, and with Ghali looking up at him with watery eyes, he…patted the small boy on the head.
His touch was…tender.
Ghali stared up at Simmons as he pushed himself back to his full height. He then turned and ran toward Gerald, whom of which had dropped to his own knees and held open his arms toward him. To which the boy immediately raced into, snuggling his face against Gerald’s chest as he wound his arms tightly around him.
Simmons…he was still in there. Somewhere.
Ahimoth was less than pleased, however. That sadistic smirk was replaced with a sneer of distain. “Rather unexpected,” he murmured quietly to himself. “Had it weakened?”
…Had what weakened?
Ahimoth quickly picked up a whistle from hanging around his neck again and blew sharply into it. A loud and piercing sound was immediately heard, so sharp that Rahas instinctively winced. That sound was similar to the one he heard when Simmons first…
Simmons became ridged for a second. Then, in a flurry of movement, unsheathed his blade and launched himself in the direction where Rahas stood with everyone else.
A hard shove from the redhead next to him pushed Rahas aside. He somehow managed to stay up on his feet, and he spun around in time to watch as two landsknechts clash – sword against axe.
Simmons’ movements were swift, brutal. He wasn’t holding back. Yet, Axel was able to counter each attack. Deflecting, hindering, pushing back – but never actually attacking. Was he unable to due to the volley of Simmons’ attacks? Or…unwilling to do so?
Shit, it didn’t matter. He was keeping him busy. That was enough.
“Gerald, get out of here!” Rahas ordered.
Gerald seemed to have entertained the same thought as he was already up on his own feet, arms wrapped securely around little Ghali. However, before he was able to turn and flee, an unstable war magic circle appeared right in front of him. And in a flash of light, he was down on his knees once more.
“Gerald!”
Shiki instinctively tried to make it to Gerald’s side, only for him, too, to endure a sudden magic circle. And, just like with Gerald, he dropped to the ground. While remaining upright on his knees, his body twitched violently. His movements were unnaturally sluggish as he stabbed his blade into the ground and leaned heavily against it.
“Shiki!”
“N…no,” Shiki murmured, peering over at Rahas through one eye. “Stay back. Protect Gerald.”
Rahas hesitated for a moment before he did a half turn and hurried to Gerald. He knelt down by his side, hand on his shoulder in an attempt to learn what was wrong. “What is it? What happened?”
Gerald rubbed hastily at his eyes, a subtly panicked expression on his face. “I…can’t see a thing. It’s completely black.”
Shit, a blindness curse.
That meant, Shiki…
“Oh, a blinding curse for Gerald and a paralyse curse for Shiki, hm?” Ahimoth commented idly, dismissively at first. But he soon chuckled menacingly. “The wonders of the Random Disease spell. Though, I would have enjoyed watching you hack and slash at yourself to remove a poison curse, Shiki.”
Shiki released a low hiss as he glared in Ahimoth’s direction. “How did you know about that?
A wicked smile spread across Ahimoth’s lips. “Oh? You already did that? Ah, maybe your arm, hm?”
What…?
Ahimoth suddenly and defy stepped to the side, mere seconds before a gunshot rang out. However, one of his dreadlocks exploded in a flurry of matted hair and drop to the ground at his feet. Far from annoyed or baffled, he smiled manically. He reached into his robes, pulled out a silver knife and with a oh-so casual flick of his wrist, threw it to his left.
Where it was promptly followed by a scream that was a mix of pain and surprise.
“Try aiming for the chest next time!” Ahimoth laughed.
Rahas whipped his head around toward the source of the noise. And was honestly surprised that it was Tiffany. In her right hand was her handgun, and a knife sticking clean through her wrist and forearm. She…had been the one to take that shot at him.
From the angle…was she aiming for his head? Or was it a warning shot?
Tiffany clenched her jaw in an attempt to hold back the tears as she grabbed the handle of the knife – and ripped it out of her arm. She attempted to stifle a scream of pain, but ultimately (and understandably) failed. Blood gushed out of the wound and she dropped the knife to clasp her hand around the injury.
As Tiffany tried to stifle the blood, a bristling and honestly angry Kerri slipped in front of her. Her robes bristled protective, the bell ringing around her neck. She appeared ready to unleash a curse or spell of her own, only to suddenly still.
What was she-?
Shit, right; war magi’s have the ability to dispel a curse or physical ailment onto something else. Usually aimed toward monsters, but this bastard would not hesitate to inflict another person’s curse onto human victims.
With another bristle of her robes, Kerri sunk back to stand by Tiffany’s side. And with one of the snaking tears of her tattered clothing, wrapped a make-shift bandage around the heavily bleeding injury to Tiffany’s wrist.
As Rahas began to wonder how to the two girls found them, he heard a low, mournful whine. He snapped his attention back to Gerald, only to find a certain blue-furred wolf by his side, tail between his legs and uttering low whines as he scurried in a skittish, unsure fashion around Gerald.
Farley obviously led the way.
With one arm still holding Ghali close, Gerald flailed out an arm and placed a hand on Farley’s head, momentarily stilling him. “Tiffany, Kerri; don’t fight him! Take Ghali and get out of here!”
He then unfurled his arm from around Ghali and settled him on his feet. With Tiffany still clutching her arm, she staggered toward them. No objections were uttered from the blonde-haired gunner. But little Ghali didn’t want to leave Gerald. Crying and reaching out to him with his tiny little arms as Gerald tried to push him toward the staggering blonde.
“It’ll be ok. Be a good boy and go with Tiffany.” It clearly hurt Gerald to have to push a needy child away from him. It hurt him so much when all he truly wanted to go was to hug the child. To comfort him.
Despite her bleeding hand, Tiffany knelt down and gathered Ghali into her arms. She held him tightly, her expression heartbreaking as Ghali continued to cry and reach out for Gerald.
Gerald then reached out to wrap an arm around Farley’s neck and pressed his forehead against his. “Lead them home.”
Farley released a low, mournful whine. He obviously knew what Gerald had asked of him. He obviously didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to leave him, Shiki, and Simmons. Yet, he had been given a purpose. A goal.
He licked Gerald’s face before he turned away from him, dutifully doing as instructed. Wordlessly, Tiffany pushed herself to her feet. And with her head down, blood splattering across the green grass, she ran. With Kerri by her side.
As their footsteps, and Ghali’s cries faded away, Gerald uttered a sigh and his shoulders dropped forward. In relief, perhaps. Or in defeat.
Gerald was…quite the gentle guy, huh?
He had already lost Shiki once; he would not be able to survive losing Shiki and Simmons. That…was one of the reasons he stayed, wasn’t it? If they left him, he’d…
He’d follow.
Rahas gritted his teeth. No. He couldn’t let that happen.
“It’s always so much more fun when they run,” Ahimoth purred once more.
Shiki stabbed his blade into the ground and with his body jolting and trembling randomly, he managed to push to his feet. “You. What did you do to my son?”
“I’m so glad you asked!” Ahimoth whirled around on Shiki, overly and mockingly dramatic. “I cursed him. Yup. Not just any curse, oh no. But one that took me a whole five minutes to inflict upon him.”
Five damn minutes? To think that child Simmons was forced to endure being under that man’s hold for that long…
“It’s akin to a fear spell, I suppose you could say. Whenever he hears a certain sound, even one similar to this whistle, will put him into a frenzied state where he will attack anything and everything. What a lovely little gift for dear ol’ Gerald and the residents of town to endure, hm?”
“You…” Gerald murmured; his voice low, almost breathless with shock. “You did it on purpose?”
“Of course I did! Did you think I left him alive by accident?” Ahimoth threw his head back in laughter. “Oh, no no no. I truly did that on purpose. I wanted you, dear ol’ Gerald, to stumble through the entirety of the murder scene in search of the brat.”
Gerald’s eyes widen as his breath hitched in his throat and he sat back on his heels. Virtually slumping to the ground in disbelief.
Rahas, himself, felt his blood burn with anger. That bastard…was unbelievable! Demented. Evil. To cause so much suffering and mayhem by himself? He needed to be stopped. For good.
“You…” Shiki growled, his whole body trembling ever so slightly. Before he snapped his head up, snared his blade, and lunged at Ahimoth. “You bastard!”
Ahimoth, however, just laughed as he raised his own sword and countered Shiki’s attack. “I’m not done explaining. Because, best of all, breaking the curse will cause the memories to return in a violent rush. And, well, it might just kill him~”
C-could it? Could a curse, a spell truly do that to someone?
Wait…Lynus was able to inspect auras. He was the leading expert in discovering and removing curses. Did he…know about Simmons’ curse? If Ahimoth was telling the truth, then Lynus would have figured it out on his own, right?
That ointment…
“So, what will you do?” Ahimoth suddenly asked, ripping Rahas from his thoughts. “The precious brat won’t stop until he either hears another whistle, or has killed everyone here. Of course, there is a third option. One that involves someone killing him first…”
No, that wasn’t an option!
Swiftly turning his attention back to the battling landsknechts, he watched as Axel planted a foot against Simmons’ stomach and pushed him back, causing the two to separate. He took that moment to re-establish a fighting stance, while Simmons unexpectedly stilled. Axel was rightly panting from exertion. Anyone would in his situation. But not Simmons. He showed no signs of tiring.
That had to be by design. Simmons pushing himself beyond his limits. That was the fourth option, wasn’t it? Simmons fighting himself to death…
God damn it!
Slowly, Simmons raised his sword, grasping it with two hands, prompting Axel to tense. He didn’t immediately move forward to attack him once more, however. He stood stock still for the longest time, prompting Axel eye his surroundings suspiciously. And for Ahimoth himself to arch a curious eyebrow.
Simmons suddenly loosened his grip on his weapon, twisted it around so that the sharp blade was angled directly toward his own stomach.
Rahas stopped breathing when Simmons’ tightened his grip around the handle and hilt once more.
As Simmons moved to stab himself, Axel lunged forward, dropping his axe as he did so. He reached Simmons just seconds before the blade was seem jutting out clean through Simmons’ body.
Blood seeped along the glistening blade.
Yet, it was Axel who wore a grimace on his face. It soon became apparent why and the realisation unexpectedly made Rahas start breathing again. In an act of sheer desperation, Axel had grabbed the sharp blade, angling it in such a way that the blade passed by Simmons’ side. Close enough to cut at his armour, but preventing more fatal injuries.
Preventing the sword from hurting Simmons.
Preventing Simmons from hurting himself.
Axel gritted his teeth as he unfurled one of his hands from the blade. He then curled it into a fist and delivered a sharp jab to the sword. And broke it into several pieces, snapping it clean at the hilt.
The sword…was completely useless now.
Axel staggered back a couple of steps, panting slightly as he held up his bloodied hands, which were trembling slightly. He wore his armour, but the blade was still so sharp it sliced through the metal and into Axel’s hands. He still had movements in his hands, with him flexing his fingers by curling and unfurling them. It appeared that the cuts were only flesh wounds.
Something Axel himself was relieved to realise.
He still ripped off his scarf, hastily tearing it into two pieces and wound them around his hands. All the while, Ahimoth stared at him, sadistically impressed.
“Again, very impressive!” Ahimoth congratulated, as he kicked Shiki in the stomach to push him back, momentarily winding him.
An expression of hatred and anger appeared on Axel’s face as he side-eyed the bastard. And his hatred only grew (as did Rahas’) when they both realised that Ahimoth had oh-so casually reinstated a paralysed curse on Shiki once more. This one more vicious than the first.
“But, you know; landsknechts aren’t any less dangerous without a weapon.” Ahimoth idly trailed a finger over the scar marring his left cheek, still grinning that wretched grin of his. “That bitch certainly wasn’t.”
So, Sandra managed to land a scarring blow, huh? That would explain the brutality of her death; his form of twisted, self-serving justice.
“Your eyes are just like hers,” Ahimoth continued, the sadistic glee in his eyes taking on a decidedly more crazed expression. “Oh, how I will have fun with you later. Alas, for now, I’ll leave you with the brat. Unless, of course, you’re willing to let him go murderous on everyone else here while you try to defeat me?”
Without giving Axel the chance to bite out some kind of response (likely a bitter and violent “Fuck you!”), Ahimoth picked up the whistle tied around his neck. And blew into it sharply.
Prompting Simmons to jerk forward, staggering into a brawling stance.
“For fuck’s sake!” Axel hissed as he ducked a punch and slipped around behind Simmons. Where his experience dealing with drunkards at the bar paid off; he grabbed Simmons by his arms, locked them behind his head, restraining him surprisingly efficiently.
Rahas would never admit it aloud, but he was glad for Axel’s presence and strength. Things would have gone a lot more…fatally if he wasn’t involved.
“I’ve got him. Do something about that asshole!” Axel barked.
Doing something about that asshole was obvious. But do what exactly?
“God damn it, Simmons!” Axel hissed as the blue-haired landsknecht twitched and convulsed under his grip. “Stop fighting yourself and instead focus your attention on freeing you own damn mind. I can handle whatever you throw at me; it’ll be karma for the times I’ve beaten you. Just focus on yourself for once!”
Simmons still for a moment, as if responding to Axel’s words. Before he suddenly, and violently pulled an arm from Axel’s grip, plunge his hand into the pocket of his pants, and pulled out a small glass bottle. It looked vaguely familiar to Rahas, but before he had the chance to ponder that thought further, Simmons tightened his grip on the bottle.
And smashed it against his forehead!
“Make it stop!” he screamed as blood and golden liquid seeped through his fingers and down his face. “I don’t want to hurt anyone!”
Simmons lurched forward unsteadily and out of Axel’s hold completely, where he then stilled before swaying. Axel instinctually stepped forward to catch him should he fall. And he did, straight into Axel’s arms and chest. The sudden weight must have startled Axel as they both fell to their knees, with Simmons’ arms around him and his face pressed against Axel’s chest.
Where he proceeded to cry.
“I never…I never wanted to…hurt anyone…”
Axel was clearly dumbfounded as he allowed Simmons to sob against his chest. His shock and surprise were something Rahas himself had felt; it was the realisation that the goofy, dim-witted Simmons was a lot more complex than first thought. That his carefree smiles hid untold pain.
He…knew more about himself and his surroundings then he led on.
“Tch.” Ahimoth made a sound of annoyance and displeasure. “I don’t know what the fuck was in that bottle, and I will admit that I am mildly frustrated. Nothing should have been able to interfere with my curses.”
He truly believed that, huh? Did that mean he hadn’t a clue about Lynus?
It had better stay that way.
A twisted, wicked smile soon returned to Ahimoth’s lips. “However, perhaps I should see this as a blessing, hm? That means I get to kill you all with my own hands…”
Rahas instinctively moved to stand in front of Gerald. Out of everyone involved, Ahimoth had paid Rahas little to no attention. He…didn’t see him as an interest. As a threat. Probably didn’t even know who the hell he was.
That was mildly insulting, though…it might be true. Shiki and Axel were both…stronger than he was. They were more of a threat, weren’t they?
Rahas was just a spectator.
God damn it…
Ahimoth’s eyes flickered over in Rahas’ direction, but looked clear past him. To where Gerald was, still suffering from a blindness curse. “Maybe I should start with Gerald. He’ll never see it coming, you could say.”
Before Ahimoth could do anything, though, he stepped swiftly to the side. Just as a flash of steel was seen. Shiki, while still enduring the effects of another paralysing curse, had managed to gather enough strength to unleash another attack, purposely drawing Ahimoth’s attention toward him.
“Oh, you want to fight me yourself, Shiki?” Ahimoth let out another haunting, violently sadistic laugh as he raised his sword. “You better win. Otherwise, well, I’m sure you can imagine what would happen. After all, I won’t stop. Only death itself will be able to stop me.”
…Death, huh?
Rahas thought back to Lynus. To his regret of having taken a life. No, forced to take a life. It was the only way. Evil, like the one that Taksony possessed, would not have been stopped any other way. Nothing would have convinced that old bastard to simply let go of all the power he possessed. All the fear he held over others.
Only death.
Yet, knowing all that…Lynus still felt regret.
He was…innocent. A healer. A pacifist. A carer. He shouldn’t have had to do something like that.
No one with a pure, innocent soul should have to do what someone else, someone capable, could do. Should do. Innocence. Evil. And the morally grey. That was what he was; not innocent, not evil. Someone who protected the innocent from the evil. The grey. Should justice fail, they were the ones who did the dirty work. So the hands of innocents wouldn’t be stained. So the hearts of innocents wouldn’t be burdened.
Just like those of legend written in that book.
Rahas reached down and picked up the carelessly discarded knife. He gripped it tightly in his right hand as he deftly raked a hand through his hair, pulling the white strains from his eyes.
He had made his decision. No going back.
Justice wasn’t moving fast enough. So, he had to.
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