The man who had led Ronnie here seemed profoundly disturbed on all levels, and cowered in a corner near an aged bookshelf with odd brownish spots on it and its books, sniffling.
"You look," the old woman draped in yellow before her noted sadly, "As if you have just seen a ghost."
Ronnie found her voice.
"It...it feels like it." she said bluntly. Gathering steam, she asked the question that first popped into her mind, annoyed. "Why haven't you ever spoken to me before?! What are you playing at??" Despite her mind's panicked voice shouting in her ear, 'Shut up, you fool! Ten years and you insult the woman? She'll just leave again, that way!', Ronnie's temper got the best of her.
"I will not disappoint you in either respect this time, then, Ronnie." the old woman replied simply.
"Er... either respect?"
The woman got to her feet without much labor for the age she appeared to be, gazed straight at Ronnie, and said, "I am not of the living, you see. Not anymore." The bandit leader detected more than a hint of regret in those words, which elicited a loud sob from the man in the corner.
The outline of the old woman shimmered suddenly, as if to demonstrate her unearthly qualities. Her shape continued to melt away, until a young girl in her mid-twenties, wearing a blue dress and stockings, with black slippers was standing where the old woman had been. She had chin-length purple-black hair, and sad green eyes. Realization slapped Ronnie in the face.
"Y-you...you... I saw you at my mother's grave!" Ronnie cried, her eyes widening as she backed up a step. "W-who ARE you?!"
"Please don't be afraid, Ronnie." said the girl, who had a very pretty voice despite being a card-carrying member of the undead. She took a deep breath, or appeared to (did ghosts get nervous?) and stared Ron in the face once again. "You will be told everything, but you must relax."
Ronnie did so. She sat in an ugly armchair with fringe opposite the ghost girl, who also sat back in the chair she had been in before.
"My name is Alani. Alani Marceel." she began. "I'm sure that doesn't mean a lot to you, but it will. Trust me." She smiled confidently, though for some reason Ronnie sensed that this spirit was somehow more jumpy in this new form. Well, new to her.
"Go on..." Ronnie said. Her mouth was dry. Hope swelled up within her. Finally, she would know everything.
"For ten years, Ronnie, I've been trying to lead you here, to this very room. You have to understand, I'm very limited by the form I'm in. Ghosts aren't all-powerful." Alani said, apologetically. "You see, I wanted to help you as much as I could. For both of us."
"W-what happened to you? I'm not sure I see the connection here." Ronnie said, uncontrollably butting in. Alani nodded, clearly anticipating this.
"It happened sixteen years ago. In this house..." Alani said. Ronnie suddenly felt very cold. To her horror, she saw the house changing before her very eyes. The old bookshelf with its spotty complexion was abruptly newer, clear of dust and mold. The chairs were revitalized. The walls changed from that deep blue to stark white, with family portraits hung upon them. The carpeting also melted away, and a roaring fire appeared in the now-defunct fireplace.
Ronnie jumped up, noticing that her seat was now occupied by an older woman, probably somewhere in her forties, knitting.
"Oh, sorry--" Ronnie blurted apologetically before realizing the woman couldn't hear her. She was just an image of the past.
The girl, Alani, now stood both in a corner and in front of the fireplace---there were two! Ronnie realized the girl by the fireplace, though identical, was also a non-responsive picture-girl.
The biggest surprise came when she looked at the whimpering man from before. Now, he appeared to her as a boy of fourteen, chipper and carefree. Unlike she and Alani, however, his present form was not in the room with them---only his past self. That puzzled her.
"Where is he?" she asked.
"I would not have Ralloric relive this." Alani explained. "He is just a part of the image, now. When this image fades, he will return to consciousness." Something else was bothering Ronnie now.
"Is he...?" she began. For some reason, the question now seemed rude, halfway out of her lips.
"My brother isn't a ghost. He is the only survivor." Alani said sadly, shaking her head.
A young girl bounded into the room, clutching a doll. She was swept happily into the arms of a robust, strong-looking man, obviously the father. Ronnie watched with interest... what had happened to this family?
She soon found out. No more than a minute passed before the peace of the room was shattered as the door was blown off its hinges, splintering into a thousand pieces. Tendrils of dark energy, the remainder of the spell that had broken it, snaked in before vanishing. Two figures entered, and Ronnie sharply inhaled despite herself.
Grinning sadistically, Klift sprang upon the poor mother, her knitting flying through the air. Sturdy but expressionless as a wall, Kranach followed his partner in. They were clearly saying something, but Ronnie couldn't hear anything. Klift pointed at Alani, drawing his sword and holding it to her mother's neck.
The father came to life suddenly, hiding his youngest daughter behind one chair before lunging at Klift with all his might. He was too late.
Kranach raised his hand; the husband, focused on Klift, did not see. Ronnie's gut wrenched as the dark magic shot through the man, rendering him instantly lifeless. She stopped herself from crying out, appalled though she was. She was having trouble reminding herself that this wasn't happening in the present. Klift was dead. He was dead.
She watched, helplessly. The rest of the Marceel family cried out in horror. Alani thrust her palm towards the vampire duo, and suddenly Kranach's arm was encased in ice. What kind of rune was that? Perhaps a Water Rune? Ron was unsure.
The teenage boy, Ralloric, was visibly shaking. Another moment passed, and the mother's throat was slit. Kranach chipped away at the ice on his rune-arm hurriedly. Klift, grinning like some kind of sickened maniac, once again addressed Alani. The girl sobbed some sort of response, but it apparently wasn't what the vampire wanted to hear.
In a move that stunned even Ronnie, the vampire swordsman abruptly beheaded the youngest girl, Alani's sister. Intangible blood sprayed right through Ronnie, hitting the ...bookshelf. That was what the marks were. Blood. She screamed, that time. It was too horrible.
Klift pulled off one of his red-soaked gloves and gestured at Alani. There was some kind of rune emblem Ronnie didn't recognize emblazoned on his hand. White light flashed all around the room. In perhaps the most horrifying spectacle of all, Ronnie watched as Alani withered, aging a hundred years in seconds before her very body dissolved into dust. Some kind of red light absorbed into Klift, and then the room was dark once more, save the fire in the fireplace.
She had seen enough.
"S-stop. Stop. I can't watch any more of this." Ronnie said, looking away. She had no idea how the boy, Ralloric, could have survived after that, but she didn't need to know. She wanted answers.
Obliging her request, the Alani standing silently in the corner nodded, and the vision faded away, leaving the musty old house, empty and lifeless except for Ronnie and Ralloric, who was his thirty-year-old self, rocking back and forth in the corner, a far-off look in his reddened eyes.
"I want to know what this has to do with me." Ronnie said as firmly as she could muster. To her surprise, the ghost wiped what appeared to be a tear out of her eye.
"Of course..." she said, with the air of someone who doesn't want you to know they've been crying, though Ronnie felt the girl had every reason to, for goodness sake.
"Why...why did they do that to you?" Ronnie asked more gently, feeling that was a bit less abrasive way to get her answers.
"The Rune..." Ralloric mumbled, speaking for the first time since they had entered the house.
"It's our common link, Ronnie Bell..." Alani said, pointing to a faded mark on her own palm in the shape of a snowflake. Of course, it was a mere memory of her past self--ghosts didn't carry runes. "I was born with a rare rune embedded in my body. It was christened the Frostbite Rune. A wise man determined that there was only one existing in this world. And I had it."
"But--" Ronnie spoke up, but the girl held a finger to her lips. Ron wanted to tell her that SHE didn't have any in-born runes of any kind, so there must be some mistake, but... something else held her back. She knew she had to trust this.
"A wealthy man in Antei called Mercurius de Valognes desired the Frostbite Rune." Alani explained, her eyes darkening at the mere mention of this man's name. "Of course, as I was born with it, to remove it would have been death for me. But he would not let up."
Ronnie sensed where this was going.
"Oh no... he set that up?" she said, referring to the vision they had both just experienced. Alani nodded.
"He began to threaten my family..." she said tearfully, "I ran halfway across the world, but I had to go back to warn my family. By that time... it was too late. Mercurius was done negotiating, and he sent those vampires to get the Rune from me." That reminded Ronnie of something else.
"W-what was that horrible thing he used on you? Another Rune?"
"Yes... the Pale Moon Rune. Only vampires can wield it, and only once per full moon. It drains a person's life energy, causing them to age rapidly, and die..." Alani choked.
"That's awful... your whole family..." Ronnie said. She could really empathize with this girl. Still...
"I'm still not sure what this has to do with me." she said as gently as she could. Alani nodded, composing herself.
"Haven't you noticed? Your Hate Rune is also one-of-a-kind. The only difference is that I was born with mine, while yours is an heirloom. Isn't that right?" the ghost-girl said.
Her words rang true. The Hate Rune Ronnie bore WAS a family heirloom, passed down from ages past.
"But..."
"Ronnie..." Alani said, taking her hand. To her shock, she could feel the touch of the ghost girl. "Klift and Kranach killed your father, and your fiance... for the rune. I saw it happen."
Ronnie felt sick.
"But...but... no... that's such a silly reason... who would kill someone for a stupid piece of glass? Who??" she rambled. Alani steadied her.
"Mercurius would. Runes are the only thing he cares about. He's a raving fanatic." Ronnie's head was still spinning. Some nutjob killed off her life's dreams for a RUNE. It was incomprehensible.
"So...so..." Ronnie got out, "You told me this so I could go kill him, right? Is that it? Revenge for both of us?"
"First and foremost, Ronnie, I told you... to warn you. You may not have noticed, but Mercurius is after YOU now. Because you have the Hate Rune."
Her heart fell. Tigerlily's death, though the woman was despicably obnoxious, HAD been her fault. The vampires had thought Lily was... Ronnie. They had thought she had the rune. That, also, must have been why they took Clara and kept her alive. To trade for Ronnie, and her Rune. Her insides boiled with a surge of fury. She would DESTROY all responsible for this. Finally, she had her answer.
"Ronnie, I know this is difficult, but there's one more thing I have to tell you." Alani said. "You won't like it. But I think it's best if you hear it from me."
The bandit leader steeled herself for more horrible news. What, had her mother NOT died of pure grief? Suppose she had been poisoned. Or, perhaps the ghost had some omniscient senses---had one of her companions been killed while she sat here, learning the truth? What could it be?
She never learned it from the ghost's lips. Just then, there was a horrible, forceful rapping on the front door. The silence was ripped apart just like in the vision of sixteen years ago. Ralloric screamed and shrank into a fetal position as the banging came again, this time, louder.
The door was kicked open. Alani's gaze snapped to the doorframe.
Ronnie's heart stopped.
******
It was a painful scene in front of the Song Sprite tavern that attracted such a crowd. Antei residents gawked at the sudden violence that had erupted just a while earlier.
Norman could no longer stay standing without assistance, and was sprawled all about on the cobblestones. He was shaken, his clothes torn, and his vision blurred from the blow to the head he had received. But he fought against his rapidly failing body to go on. Whoever their assailant was, he had fought dirty, dispatched them with efficiency, and then had abducted Jaoullin.
Blinking several times, Norman caught glimpses of the staring bystanders, but he was mostly concerned with his only remaining friend in sight: Cornelius. The bounty hunter was crying out in agony and clawing at his eyes. The memory jumped back to mind; Norman remembered seeing their attacker toss some kind of powder into his face before getting hit himself on the noggin.
"Help... we need some help..." the aching poet blurted, still groggy, as he climbed to his feet. He winced. It had been foolish to send away most of his companions---many of whom WERE capable fighters---but in the spur of the moment, spreading out to avoid capture had seemed the best thing to do. Norman just hoped that wherever they were, Ronnie, Clara, Pauline and Eyesoar were safe.
Norman found his cries answered swiftly. A squad of Imperial guards, apparently on patrol, scurried right up.
"Oh, thank the gods. Can you please get us some medicine?" Norman coughed, looking them over. On second thought, they didn't look too generous at the moment.
"Disturbing the peace, I see." said the leader, shaking his head, "I must say it was easier to find you than I thought."
"What are you talking about? We were just attacked!" Cornelius bellowed, though he couldn't see who he was talking to.
"Mr. de Valognes will be most pleased to hear that you lowly thugs have been caught at last." said the Imperial firmly. "First, you rob a nobleman at knifepoint, then you start a brawl in the streets? You people have some balls, but surely you knew we'd catch you sooner or later, right?"
Something was definitely amiss. Norman, due to their profession, couldn't be entirely certain they HADN'T mugged some Valognes nobleperson at knifepoint sometime in the past, but certainly not recently. He did know, however, that they were not at fault for the supposed street brawl.
"Someone's been lying to you, sir. We were attacked." Norman said as firmly as he could muster without sounding threatening. His head was spinning from the pain, and it was all he could do to stay upright.
"They're on the wanted list we received from Major Lione, too, Captain..." another solider put in.
Oops. Couldn't deny that.
"That's right, thank you for reminding me, Robbins." the captain replied. He gave the two injured men his most contemptuous glare. "According to that, there should be more of you, though. No matter---you'll have plenty of time to tell us where they are."
"You're making a mistake." Norman said through clenched teeth, as the soldiers surrounded them and bound them.
It wasn't enough. They were swiftly captured and led away past the wide eyes of the many onlookers. But there was one thing the crowd and the soldiers didn't notice...
******
Hovering above the rooftops, unseen, was Eyesoar, ever the fly-on-the-wall. However, as much as he wanted to play the hero and swoop down to the rescue, he knew it would be suicide to take on that many Imperials single-handedly.
Helplessness was a feeling Eyesoar despised. But already he was formulating a plan.
"I guess if a massive assault is what it takes to get them out, then that's what I'll do. But first I have to find everyone else!" he said aloud to himself.
Unfortunately, even with his bird's-eye-view, he failed to see anyone else he knew out on the streets below.
Figures. he thought. But if I can't find my friends, who can I count on to help me out? Surely there's some Street Thug With a Heart of Gold in Antei. SOMEWHERE!
His confidence renewed, Eyesoar descended to search for such a person.
"I am looking for a criminal," he announced loudly, walking into the seediest, most run-down looking tavern he could find, "with a Heart of Gold. The weak-stomached need not apply."
It was like fresh meat had walked in to say 'hello'.
"Lookin' for a date, sweetie?" grunted someone who had surely just killed his mother, by the looks of him.
Eyesoar steeled himself and just glared at the guy. Hopefully, the eyepatch helped his case.
"Wait! Wait! It's you!" shouted a mass of wiry black hair and glinting weaponry wrapped around about six hundred pounds of something that may have once been a man. Eyesoar gawked.
Despite this mancreature's size, he was out of his seat and next to Eyesoar in seconds.
"That messy hair! That face! That scar!" the mancreature gasped for all to hear. "It's YOU! I've been waiting for you! You're the ONE!"
"I... don't have any scars---" was all the Winger could get out.
"Nonsense, lad, you are THE CHOSEN ONE!" replied Manthing ecstactically. Eyesoar decided to just use this guy's mentality to serve his own purpose.
"If I am, would you help me by risking your own life in a dangerous and illegal jailbreak?" he asked bluntly.
"CERTAINLY!" Manthing bellowed, grabbing Eyesoar's arm and nearly ripping it off as he shook the Winger's hand.
"Um, you are?" Eyesoar asked.
"They call me Bagrid. Sneakiest thief in all the Empire! And now, your humble friend and escort to a world you NEVER KNEW EXISTED!" he said, spittle flying from the tangle of hair somewhere where his lips would logically be, his eyes glinting.
"Hoo, boy..." Eyesoar mumbled as they left the tavern, jeers and cat-calls echoing behind them.
******
The man framed in the doorway of the Marceel home glanced unblinking at all the room's inhabitants.
The silence was such that one could poke it with a fork and watch it jiggle like gelatin. No one moved for an eternity.
Ronnie vaguely realized that she wasn't breathing and resumed doing so to avoid passing out on the grungy carpet. It was hard not to.
She just stared. Words flew to her mouth but were lost. Her breath was gone once more.
The intruder gazed at her, a suspicious look upon his face. His features were etched into her memory, though they were paler now. His dark hair remained as it had in her thoughts. The air was even flavored now with that familiar scent she had always remembered.
Alani Marceel knew something was terribly wrong, but couldn't bring herself to say it. It was too late, anyway---Ronnie already walked towards the young man.
Tristan stood in the doorway, sword in hand. After ten years, Ronnie had found him. She had found him!
Tristan! her mind urged her forward. But Tristan was not himself. He had not aged a day, and that wasn't right.
"Ronnie, stop! He doesn't know you! He---" Alani cried.
She didn't hear the ghost-girl's words. They floated soundlessly past her ears, as she glided into her lover's arms. It was not a loving embrace, however.
"I didn't think you'd come along so eagerly." said Tristan in that husky voice of his. But this time, even Ronnie noticed the difference. She loosened her hold on him and stared him in the face.
"..What...?"
"I have my orders, lady. Let's go." was his reply. Then she noticed.
No...no, no, no! Not my Tristan! Not... him too... her mind screamed. He had fangs. He was a vampire. He wasn't even alive
"I tried to tell you..." Alani said meekly from the shadows. "He was turned, he was turned..." The ghost began wringing her hands.
Ronnie did not know what to do. For the first time, she was truly helpless. What could she do? Numb, she fell to her knees.
"Don't you remember me, Tristan?" she whispered.
"...Should I?"
She said nothing. It was over. The thought idly wandered over her consciousness--perhaps if she willed herself not to breathe, she would just die. This... this was worse than her father and Tristan merely having been killed. Tristan had been ravaged, his body broken, transformed, his mind erased...
"Well, I'm glad you're not so standoffish anymore, lady. I wasn't looking forward to hurting you. If we can get on with this, peacefully, then let's go." Tristan said from miles above her.
No. No, not yet. It's not over yet. she thought. Somewhere inside of the monster beside her was Tristan, and he would remember the life they had had. She would make him remember, and she would kill the one who did this to him. To her father. To her.
"Yes." Ronnie said, getting to her feet. She dulled everything boiling up inside her. She avoided looking at the one person she'd waited years to gaze upon once more. If she was to get through this, she had to stay strong until the opportune moment.
"My master will be quite pleased. This way." Tristan said with a hearty nod, taking Ronnie by the wrist and leading her out the door.
Behind her, she could sense the despair of the ghost-girl and the relief of the shriveled-up shell of a man.
Inside, Ronnie was dying rapidly. But on the outside, she was ready. Time to end this.
"It's not like that woman to give up so easily, but in all fairness, she was caught off guard..." Alani murmured once they had gone, shaking her head sadly.
"She's going to fight him, you know. She's going to die." Ralloric said without feeling from his corner. Alani reconsidered. Perhaps Ronnie had not given up yet.
"I think you're right... she will fight Mercurius. But..."
"She's going to die. They're all going to die." Ralloric's words jarred Alani's memory.
"Oh no... she doesn't know, Ralloric! She doesn't know about Mercurius!!" Alani gasped, putting an ethereal hand to her mouth. With that, she vanished. Ronnie had to be warned.
"She's going to diiiiie..." Ralloric hissed to the empty darkness.
******
"This is no time to be searching for school supplies, Bagrid. We've got a prison to bust open!" Eyesoar protested. The massive thief had led Eyesoar to a back-street so rancid even the scum had scum, and was now tapping at bricks in a wall of a building. The Winger had long since second-guessed his skills at choosing a capable partner in this caper. He didn't have TIME to go on some weird quest! He had to save Norman and Cornelius from the Imperials!
"Come now, Airy, it's time to go!" Bagrid chuckled, tapping at more bricks with his giant fingers.
"My name's not really 'Airy.' You know that, right?" Eyesoar noted.
"Nonsense. You're the legendary Winger Boy, Airy Blotter. That's whatcha told me! Now come. Into Irration Alley!" Bagrid insisted. He tapped a final brick.
To Eyesoar's complete surprise, the wall slid away to reveal a secret passage leading underground. He stared.
"What're ya waitin' for? Hurry!" the thief grumbled. Now, Eyesoar knew if he had any sense at all, he would never have entered that dank, inky black tomb of a passageway with a nutjob who would just as likely molest him and take all his belongings than help him.
But he did, anyway.
The tunnel was dimly lit by torchlight, and the Winger stumbled more than once in the dark, catching his wings on cobwebs and other non-nice things. He wondered how on earth Bagrid even managed to FIT down here, let alone manuever, but the massive thief seemed to be doing just fine.
After several minutes of walking, Eyesoar felt something slither across his foot and let out a yelp.
"What?? What?? You all right, Airy?! Is it your scar?? Is it the Dark Winger? It's the Dark Winger, isn't it?" Bagrid sputtered.
"N-no, there's just a---"
"I'll save ya, Airy! Runnnn! It's VULTUREMORRRRT!!" Bagrid bellowed hysterically, diving on Eyesoar in an attempt to save him, but nearly crushing him to death instead.
"Just...a...rat..." the Winger gasped from beneath the mammoth criminal. After a bit more convincing, Bagrid got off of him and pulled Eyesoar to his feet.
Brushing himself off, Eyesoar took it upon himself to raise an important question. "Where does this lead, anyway? This...uh... Irration Alley?"
"Probably right up next to the holding cell where the Imps keep all the folks what they caught." Bagrid revealed in a moment of stunning soberness, shrugging. The maniacal glint soon returned to his eye, however.
"Come on, Airy. The Enemy has eyes everywhere!" he cried, charging forward and leaving Eyesoar no choice but to continue to run or be crushed again.
******
Jaoullin woke up. He shivered. It was cold. Then he noticed that he happened to be mostly naked, and lashed to some kind of unpleasant pole. He was just about to inquire where he was and when the topless babes would proceed to pour and rub oil over his entire body when he abruptly realized he was not, unfortunately, taking part in a sexual fantasy.
Curses. Just once, I figured...
An elegantly dressed man came into his line of sight. It was hard to determine his age, but he seemed to be a very well-to-do gentleman indeed. Dressed casually in a smoking jacket, he still looked quite impressive. The man was well-built, and had slicked back black hair and cold, dark eyes. He seemed pleased with himself.
He also wore oversized metal gauntlets on his hands, of a very unpleasant nature. They didn't really seem to go with the rest of the ensemble. So, he looked impressive... and also formidable.
"Welcome." he said. His voice was deep and rich, and he gazed at Jaoullin with those pools of darkness.
"What's all this?" Jaoullin demanded. He wasn't really in the mood for games. If his memory served him correctly, he, Norman, and Cornelius had been in some real trouble with a vampire before he had landed in this S&M fantasy gone horribly wrong.
"Clearly, you are confused. Allow me to explain." the gentleman offered reasonably. "I am Mercurius de Valognes, of Antei. I'm something of a collector."
Jaoullin's eyes narrowed. "A collector of what?" Mercurius didn't look happy at being interrupted, but continued.
"You have something I want. For my collection."
"I don't care what the hell you collect. Let me go, or I'll rearrange your face so badly the only thing you'll collect is masks, buddy-boy." Jaoullin threatened. He was really in no position to do so, but that had never, ever stopped him before. Mercurius struck him across the face with one of the gauntlets. His nose was bleeding, now. Clearly this man was not used to people talking back to him.
"When I first saw you, I thought perhaps I could make some use of you yet. At this rate, I think merely making the extraction and letting you die would be the best thing to do." Mercurius said in that deep voice. Extraction? That sounded awful.
"Extraction." Jaoullin said, trying not to sound too fearful or let his imagination wander too far.
"In the past, with your predecessors, I may have asked your opinion on the matter. Let you volunteer. As it is, no one likes to give up what's theirs, so I end up just having to take it. The same goes for you. Your Rune is now mine." Mercurius said, preparing something Jaoullin couldn't see behind him. His words hit Jaoullin upside the head.
"Rune? What rune? Are you nuts?" Jaoullin sputtered, "I'm not carrying any RUNES. Besides, rune extraction isn't fatal."
"When we want the 'donor' to disappear, it is." Mercurius said with an air of finality.
To Jaoullin's surprise, Kranach stepped into view. Things clicked in his head.
"You jerk! You're playing with my head! This is about Ronnie, isn't it? You have me all done up like this so she'll give herself up, don't you?" the Sunshine Knight shouted, rattling his chains as it were.
"Don't be foolish. Though using you as bait might work for the run-of-the-mill tart, as I'm sure you're accustomed to, that woman wouldn't fall for it." Mercurius said, disgusted, "Besides, who would save your worthless skin?"
"Lots of people." Jaoullin lied. "Ever heard of THE EMPEROR?" Mercurius shot him a humorless look.
"I'm not stupid." he said dryly. He turned to Kranach with a distasteful look on his face. "Don't just stand there like a fool, Kranach. Honestly... I've already had to send Maroux to do YOUR job."
"Deepest apologies, my master." Kranach said, kneeling. But the vampire's voice was strained.
"Prepare the tools for extraction of the Solar Flare Rune." Mercurius boomed, raising his gauntleted hands skyward. The room, once darker than the inside of a cow, came to life with eerie, supernatural light.
Jaoullin cringed as the two men moved closer to his vulnerable, nonrefundable body. But before the sinister rune collector could even touch him, he stopped. Swooping in close, the man examined Jaoullin's body and then stepped back. He howled with rage.
"What's the problem, master?" Kranach inquired calmly.
"The rune... is NOT in this man's body..." Mercurius fumed, through clenched teeth. "WHERE IS IT?!!"
Jaoullin's eyes came to rest on a table a few feet away from where he was bound. There was a sword on the table.
His sword... The Star Ostrich Sword...
Suddenly, he understood. There really was a rune, and it was in that blade. Now, a sticky dilemma arose. How was he to keep Valognes' attention away from the sword---but also deter the madman from dicing him up like a holiday dinner? What he needed was a distraction.
A huge crash echoed from elsewhere in the mansion. Well, that worked.
"What was that?" Mercurius said sharply. Comprehension crept across Kranach's face.
"Leave this to me, Master." he said simply, departing from the room with his hand not far from his massive sword.
******
It occurred once to Ronnie as she walked mutely through secret ways off the main grind towards her doom that she could save herself a lot of trouble by just visiting the local runemaster and removing the whole reason for this conflict. After all, she didn't face the same choice as Alani---if the rune was removed, nothing would happen to her. But somehow, she knew that even so, it was not an option. To merely hand over the rune would be to forfeit. The bastard behind all of this would win, and continue to hunt down other innocent people. Ronnie wasn't about to give him the satisfaction.
"Did your master tell you why he wanted me?" she voiced, speaking for the first time since they had left the house. Still, she didn't look at Tristan. She wanted to hold onto him, so badly, but it wasn't to be. Not yet.
"It's not my place to question his motives. I assume he wants you for the same reason he wants everyone else." the swordsman replied, still keeping one hand on her wrist as they walked.
"Then you know what will happen..." she said sadly, "He's going to kill me."
"If that's what he wishes, I can't stop him." Tristan said. She could sense his resistance to become emotionally involved.
"Killing someone over a rune? That's completely despicable! Doesn't it make you angry??" she said with a hint of her old fire. Whoa, Ron... get a hold of yourself. Don't give away your hand too soon...
"You know, you remind of somebody." Tristan said, glancing thoughtfully at her. She allowed herself to glance at him, knowing that at any moment she could lose what little control she had over her emotions. He shook his head. "But I don't remember who..."
"You will." was all she said. She faced forward once more and found herself being herded towards a vast, dark mansion. The sun was starting to go down behind it; its jagged spires and unwelcoming outline silhouetted against the deepening orange-red of the sky. "Is that it?" Ronnie asked.
"Yes."
Bring it on, she thought miserably. Tonight, it would end one way or another.
******
Pauline looked at her reflection in the puddle behind the Red Rabbit Casino and willed herself not to start freaking out. She had gone and done it, now. If she had ever had doubts about joining Ronnie's crew of bandits, it was too late to back out now! Now she was...
A HARD-CORE CRIMINAL!
Having watched Norman and Cornelius get carted away by Imperials, not to mention poor Jaoullin abducted by that creature, Pauline had been desperate to take action. However, she was not exactly a pillar of physical strength. She knew that without Norman and Cornelius to help her, there was no way she'd be able to rescue Jaoullin.
And so, that was what brought Pauline to where she was now: behind the casino, dressed like a complete slut, a blunt piece of wood in one hand, a nude, unconscious casino dancer sprawled on the ground beside her. She quickly practiced her best come-hither looks in the puddle, trying not to gag as she did so. Her outfit was a brazen display of bad taste---it was actually made in odd-sized seperate pieces, buttoned together at random places, thus creating a tear-away-dress, the ultimate in skanky-chic.
Pauline hunted down the tag, wondering... ah, yes. It was a Scantia Broad dress. She remembered wearing a few of Ms. Broad's skimpy numbers when she was younger, to shock her father. She sighed. It was probably just as well that he was dead... if he could see what she was up to now, he'd probably have died of heart failure.
She was READY.
Wasting no time, she avoided the lecherous stares of passersby as she scampered in too-tall heels over to the building she had seen the men taken into. The fact that she had not really thought this plan entirely through didn't deter Pauline. Taking one last deep breath, she flung open the door and posed so that just one bare leg was in view. To be honest, it was an uncomfortable pose, and being uncomfortable was not something Pauline liked.
She failed to hear any wolf-whistles, and so risked standing at full attention in the doorway.
"Are you lost, miss?" an Imperial she had earlier seen addressed as Robbins said to her. The other soldiers in the room turned to look at her. With her audience, she put the act into full swing.
"Hello, boys," she said in her most seductive voice. She ran her hands through her long black hair, taking her time, desperately looking around for any kind of holding cell or room.
The men had taken notice, but she was losing them fast. They obviously thought she was some destitute drug-addict who had lost her way, or something---she needed seduction!
Her mind raced. Finally, she decided to just take cues from what she did when she was with Jaoullin (which seemed to work pretty well) and if all else failed, What Would Rodney Hard Do? The resulting mental image of Rodney seducing Jaoullin caused her to laugh out loud, which surely looked odd to all the Imperials. Pull it together, Pauline! she willed herself.
What she needed was something thoroughly distracting and also enticing, perhaps complete with a sexually arousing catchphrase. Yes! Yes!
"Mmm..." she murmured. She ripped off part of her tear-away-top, flashing the entire squadron.
"Whoa, lady..."
Catchphrase, Pauline! Catchphrase! You have them!
"GOT BOOBS?" she said, wiggling her tongue. Sloppy, but serviceable.
The last thing she saw before the squad closed ranks around her was a fat, balding clerk at the desk in the corner look down self-consciously and say, "Yes I do."
******
The feeling down in Kranach's gut was a particularly unpleasant one. What was it about this time that made it different from all the other times?
Klift was gone, for one. He was sure he would never get used to that. But it hardly mattered. He had a sinking feeling that he wouldn't last the night, anyway, so no worries.
His footfalls were the only sound in the empty corridor of the Valognes mansion. Thick, musty carpet lay beneath his boots as he crept forward, investigating the disturbance he had heard. Pausing to listen, he heard nothing, but knew where the initial sound had come from.
...Master Mercurius's rune vault. His body tense, the vampire rounded the corner, drawing his blade in the process. There was a high-pitched scream, and a massive blue vase fell and shattered.
"What are you doing, Cherrie?" Kranach demanded. He had expected an attack! The song sprite from the tavern, still dressed in all pink, whimpered meekly and shook her head.
"I was just visiting Master..." she lied. She was not very good at it, either.
"What are you up to, Cherrie? Tell me." Kranach said, using not-quite-his-sternest tone. Anything beyond a firm voice sent the elf into hysterical tears, anyway.
"The t-tall woman said that..." she paused, looking scandalous, "Master is BAD!" Before Kranach could cut in, the elf continued her explanation. "I know Master isn't as nice anymore, but I don't think he's bad! So I came to show the tall lady that he's NOT!"
"What tall lady?" Kranach asked, his eyes widening. "What do you mean you came to show her---"
The vampire's interrogation of the elfin girl was cut off as a young woman with pale lavender skin and a skintight black bikini swung from the ceiling suspended by her whip, and kicked him in the face.
"Lady Nikita!" Kranach fumed, an uncharacteristic grimace upon his face. "I told you, this does not concern you. Please leave."
"Leave? Before I put an end to this? Don't be ridiculous." Nikki said, glaring gravely at the hulking swordsman.
"Then I shall be forced to fight you." Kranach said without moving. Obviously, he hoped the threat would scare the vampiress into fleeing. A whipcrack splitting the air told him it wasn't to be.
"Go ahead and fight me, then. I thought better of you, but vampires like you are the reason our kingdom was attacked by humans!" Nikki said, advancing a step.
"I will ask you once more, and then..." Kranach said.
"Please don't do this, mister Kranach... don't start fighting..." Cherrie begged tearfully. Nikki didn't budge. The vampire swordsman shook his head.
"Truly regretful that it's come to this, Nikita. But I know you won't back down." Kranach said. In a microsecond, he was in the air and descending on her with his blade. She had anticipated this, however, and moved aside.
Wood splintered and the elf's screams split the air as he cleaved the former vase's stand in half.
"What are you trying to prove, Nikita?" Kranach asked as he attacked her again. Once more, she gracefully dodged, this time by floating in the air away from the blade's range. "Are you on the humans' side, now?"
"I'm on the side of common decency." Nikki spat back. She nodded towards a bolted door down the hall. "I've seen what's in that vault. I know what goes on here, now. It's despicable." She swung her
whip at his legs, tripping him. He fell to the floor with a thud.
"There's still a chance to surrender." she said smugly, standing over him. Before she could continue, however, a gong-like bell ringing echoed throughout the house. Kranach seemed to stop struggling, and allowed his head to rest on the carpet.
"He's got her."
******
"Stand back, Airy." Bagrid grunted. Eyesoar obeyed. They had come to the end of the secret tunnel, the "Irration Alley." There was a simple ladder leading upwards, but no visible trapdoor leading back to the outside world. Eyesoar simply assumed that like before, the massive tangle of hair known as Bagrid would just poke around until a secret door opened.
"Forget the password?" the young Winger chuckled.
"Duck!" Bagrid said all-too-cheerfully, rolling up his sleeves and pointing a finger upward.
"That's a funny passw---" Eyesoar began.
The ceiling exploded in a fiery ball of blazing inferno DEATH. Eyesoar nearly lost his head due to flying debris. Oh. DUCK. He realized sheepishly, more than a little shaken. Bagrid grabbed the Winger by the arm and literally tossed him up through the hole.
Eyesoar suddenly found himself in a room of very bewildered looking Imperial soldiers. From the looks of it, they had just gate-crashed the front lobby, and if it wasn't too spacious before, when filled with rubble it was even more cramped. The Winger cleared his throat.
"Ahem! This is a highly organized----wow." The fourteen-year-old's train of thought hit bare breasts and derailed into a tangled mass of wreckage and drool.
At the moment, all the soldiers were staring at Eyesoar, though he wasn't quite sure why they weren't admiring the very ample----lordy, that was Pauline!
Somehow, the Winger started thinking with his brain instead of his other organs and realized that she must have been staging some kind of jailbreak just as he was. He took charge, and created a sufficient distraction.
"Suckers! Your mothers are obese and unappealing!" he crowed, making a face at them.
As expected, the Imperials attacked en masse. Pauline tackled several from behind, easing the workload a bit, but Eyesoar was still outnumbered. Hell, wasn't this exactly what he had tried to avoid from the get-go?
Bagrid fixed this by breaking the rest of the floor, mostly by sticking his face through it as he ascended into the building.
"GET YER HANDS OFFA AIRY BLOTTER!!!" he bellowed. The fat, balding desk clerk in the corner promptly wet himself. Eyesoar was astounded---when provoked, Bagrid was like some kind of giant, hairy mandragon. Bodies flew left and right! Flashes of bare breast could be seen! The adrenaline was pumping!
It was a triumphant day for testosterone and its loyal subjects.
"What the hell's goin' on out there?!" shouted a familiar voice from the next room.
"Let us out, or I'm warning you, we'll take legal action, Imperial scum!" cried another, even more familiar voice.
"Legal action?? I'll rip their testicles off!!" the first voice bellowed. Eyesoar took it upon himself to slip away during the fracas, filching the keys from a ring on the wall.
"Eyesoar!" Norman said, sounding relieved, as the Winger entered the room. He and Cornelius were in a small barred-off area of the room, luckily unguarded at the moment---everyone was obviously busy getting their asses kicked in the lobby. "What's going on out there?"
"We're busting you outta here!" the Winger said, grinning, as if that explained everything. He stuck the key into the door hurriedly, glancing his friends over as he did so. They were pretty beat up. Cornelius's eyes were horribly reddened and bloodshot, and Norman was in a poor state as well.
In no time at all, they were free, and hurrying back out through the lobby. Pauline, it seemed, had escaped through the front door. The three of them slipped by virtually unnoticed. Bagrid, oblivious, continued to pummel the Imperial forces like a hurricane.
Outside, the scattered companions regrouped. It was starting to get really dark outdoors, but that didn't mask how tired and broken everyone appeared. Eyesoar noticed that Pauline had somewhere managed to conjure herself another top (a pity, really) since he last glimpsed (okay, ogled) her.
"Let's get this straight, right now," Norman said, taking charge. "You both came to rescue us?"
"Yes." Pauline replied. "But, er, seperately."
"All right..." Norman continued. "What about Jaoullin?"
"We came to save you first. I'm not sure where Jaoullin is now..." Eyesoar said uncertainly.
"I watched him get dragged away right before you, but from where we are now I couldn't place the direction if I tried..." Pauline said, embarrassed.
"That's a big problem, then. If we don't know where to look then--" Norman said gravely.
"Eeee!" Pauline squealed, interrupting him.
"What?"
"Sorry, but... didn't you feel that? The most incredibly frigid chill just went right up my spine. Brrr!" the aristocrat-turned-bandit said with a little shiver.
"I did kinda feel it, too..." Eyesoar said with a shrug.
At that moment, Scotch came running up with a weary, average looking man who had a blank look on his face. They almost seemed to come from nowhere.
"Guys! Guys! I'm so glad I found you!" Scotch shouted, coming to a stop in front of them. The other man stayed back a ways.
"Scotch! You'll never believe what happened!" Eyesoar started to tell him.
"This guy already told me everything..." Scotch puffed, pointing to the man he'd arrived with. "But listen. I don't know how he knows all this, but he told me Ron's in big trouble---Jaoullin, too. We have to hurry, right now."
Most of that information was news to the rest of them, so they listened intently.
"Come on," Scotch continued, still out of breath, "he's gonna lead us to the place..." They took off at a run.
"Scotch, have you seen Clara...?" Norman voiced as they ran.
"She's with Margie. Should be fine." he gasped in reply.
Their silent informant kept pace with all of them despite seeming somewhat out of shape. Eyesoar noticed as he flew low alongside him that the guy had tears running down his face, but wasn't making any sound, nor did it seem to be affecting his vision. Gad, the man gave him the creeps.
"Full moon tonight." the man noted dully, though he shuddered visibly. "Someone's going to die."
After that, everyone ran just a little faster.
******
Tristan entered the vast mansion without bothering to knock, and pulled a cord hanging from the ceiling just inside the foyer. Ronnie half-expected to fall through some kind of trap-door, but instead a resounding bell rang throughout the house.
"This is wrong." Ronnie repeated for the sake of repetition. By that time, she had nearly given up on getting through to her undead soulmate. Too much time had come between them, it seemed.
"Come on. He's expecting us." he replied, ignoring what she had said once again. He led her to an ornate looking staircase, but before she had gone more than two steps, a booming voice greeted her from the top.
"Ah. My other guest of honor has arrived safely, I see." said the man at the top of the staircase. "Well done, Maroux. Well done, indeed."
Ronnie found herself hating this man even more in person. That introductory sentence alone started the pilot light of her temper.
"His name is Tristan, you sick fuck." she said, looking up at him. He nodded appraisingly, looking her over.
"Oh, so you do have the temper everyone's been raving about. I find people like you to be quite rash most of the time. Easily make mistakes." he said with satisfaction.
"You want rash? How about I kill you where you stand?" Ronnie said darkly. The words were no sooner out of her mouth than she heard the swish of a cape as Tristan came forward to stop her. The aristocrat held up his hand.
"Steady, Maroux. There will be plenty of time for that." he said. "First, I would like to educate Miss Bell." He gestured towards the rest of the mansion. "Come along, now. And Maroux---bind her hands."
Tristan did so obediently, and they climbed the stairs to the second floor. Ronnie couldn't even see straight, she was so angry, so it was probably best that Tristan was guiding her. His hands on her were gentle, despite everything. That brought her a great deal of comfort, at least for the moment.
"If you think I'm going to go along with your little game quietly and politely, you're out of your fucking mind, by the way." Ronnie snarled at the back of the man's head.
"Miss Bell, do you know who I am?" he asked, without letting her answer, "No one does. That is because excluding vendors who willingly sell me their Runes, no one is alive who could tell a tale of what I do here." He stopped, turning to look at her arrogantly. "No one goes quietly and politely. But that won't change things."
The anger rose to a boiling point. Ronnie suddenly broke from Tristan's grasp and lunged at the smug collector. Her arms were bound together in front of her at the wrist, but she didn't care---two fists were better than one any day. Smoking jacket, poised appearance and all, the villainous man leapt aside without a second thought. Ronnie found herself over-momentous and hit the opposite wall of the dark corridor, crumpling to the ground. The man laughed heartily.
"You see? Such rashness. Does your Hate Rune contribute to your ill attitude, I wonder? Ah, well. I shall have to find out myself, when I wear it." he said with a wide smile.
"I know who you are, Mercurius." Ronnie grunted from the floor, looking up at him with malice. "But you're right. It won't change things. Because I'm going to kill you." The smile faded from Mercurius's face, twisting into an ugly sneer.
"It will give me the utmost satisfaction to do away with you, Miss Bell. I've spent too much energy trying to get your particular rune, and it has caused me far too much irritation." he snapped.
Irritation...? she thought. It caused him irritation?! Like some kind of RASH? Like a bug-bite? That was irritation!
"You killed my whole family!! YOU KILLED THEM, FOR NO REASON! IT'S NOT YOUR PLACE TO PLAY GOD!!!" Ronnie screamed at him as loud as she could. He turned and walked away.
"Bring her. Now." he called back coldly to Tristan. Slowly, the vampire obeyed, but it took all his strength to drag Ronnie down the hall and into the room on the right. She kicked and screamed and clawed and scratched and bit and fought dirty, but to no avail. The one person she had never been able to get the best of was Tristan---and she didn't really feel like truly harming him. Still, she continued to struggle.
"Miss Bell, really. You should quit wasting your own time with this. You aren't going anywhere." Mercurius sighed, donning massive metallic gauntlets.
"You have no feelings at all. You may have a million runes locked away in this mansion, but you'll never know what it feels like to care about something real. You're a monster." Ronnie spat, hoping to chip away at his ego and perhaps give herself an opening to truly attack.
"I know what matters most to me." Mercurius said casually, chinking the gauntlets together and taking a step towards her. She lunged again, but was held back by Tristan. "REALLY. Miss Bell, are you aware that I currently carry three runes that could end your life instantly? You're really no threat at all." the vile collector proclaimed, unimpressed.
"Runes you undoubtedly murdered to get." Ronnie said with disgust.
"Only one." he replied, flashing a grin, "The others are mine to begin with."
Ronnie knew she needed to buy time. She was being guided by Tristan over to what looked uncomfortably like an operating table. She scrambled for something to momentarily distract Mercurius with, and decided his favorite topic would do.
"Which runes might those be?" she asked, trying not to sound too interested. A sudden change in attitude would tip him off too obviously. Unfortunately, though he gave her an answer, its brevity revealed that he had already thought of what she was up to.
"The Pale Moon Rune, the Rabid Fang Rune, and the Frostbite Rune." he rattled off. A light went off in Ronnie's head. Something was terribly wrong with that list of runes.
"The Pale Moon Rune can only be..." she breathed, as Tristan laid her on the table. She barely noticed.
"Attached to vampires? That's quite right." Mercurius said with a sadistic grin. Oddly, he had no visible fangs.
"And the other... I know I've heard it before...." Ronnie said, wide-eyed.
"The Rabid Fang Rune keeps werewolfism in check." he replied, clearly enjoying her spreading fear.
"You're..."
"About to kill you. Goodbye." He said. Tristan held her down as the rune-fiend descended on her with the gauntlets.
Ronnie's whole body filled with pain. Whatever he was doing, it was killing her, there was no doubt. But she felt her mind and soul fill with something quite different altogether. It was anger. Rage, fury, malice, loathing. Purest hatred filled her to the brim. She was ready to burst.
She lifted her arm. It was filled with flowing power, strength like she had never felt. Tristan was tossed off her like a rag doll. She sat up, looked the man who ruined her life in the face, and activated her Hate Rune.
Mercurius was blasted across the room by a squealing bullet of fire. Tristan's entire face contorted, and just from a mere glance at him, Ronnie could tell something had stirred deep within him. The rune had jarred his memory. She fired again--the bullet screeched across the room and blew out a window.
"DEYMON!! NO! NO!!" Tristan screamed. Ronnie's heart jumped into her throat, hearing her father's name. He was reliving it--he was reliving his own death.. Convulsing on the ground, the swordsman became still for a moment. Ronnie was torn between going to him and continuing on with her mission of revenge. If she didn't act soon, Mercurius would regain his stride.
"...Ronnie...? Ronnie!!" Tristan gasped. He remembered!
But this was not good for her assault on the enemy. Frozen by indecision and spurred into momentary happiness at her lover's return, her surge of negative emotion subsided, causing her to lose all the extra powers her rune had given her. Worse than that, Mercurius got to his feet. He raised one gloved fist, and white light filled the room.
It was that horrible white light Ronnie had seen in the Marceel home. The Pale Moon Rune---the one that had sucked the life force from Alani. The full moon outside was powering it, and she knew if he used its energy on her full-force, it was over.
"That rune is mine." snarled Mercurius, advancing, his features illuminated in the blinding light and making him look truly terrifying. The closer he got, the weaker Ronnie felt. She felt her energy slipping away.
Tristan stood between her and grim death, his sword drawn.
"Stand aside, Maroux." Mercurius commanded. Tristan ignored him, and took a defensive stance. The rune collector caught on quickly. "I see. So you remembered. Regrettable, I must say. This rune may not work on vampires, but I can still kill the girl." He merely thrust his hand in Ronnie's direction, and she felt as if she had taken a physical blow.
"Aaah!"
"Ronnie!" Tristan cried, turning. Mercurius clubbed him in the back of the head with a gauntlet, and stepped forward. By some kind of providence, a small cloud in the sky drifted just over the moon outside. Abruptly, the light faded---and Ronnie's confidence was bolstered.
As long as the moon's not in sight, he can't use that rune on me! she realized. Acting quickly, she dove from the room. Leaving Tristan behind was like putting a fork in her eye, but she knew he would be safer the farther he was from Mercurius, anyway.
Fighting in the corridors would neutralize the Pale Moon Rune, she knew, but it was also quite cramped. Mercurius came right after her. She turned once more to face him.
"This has gone far enough." he growled at her---literally. His voice was changing, deepening further, becoming more... feral. Hair grew all over Mercurius's body, sprouting up like spring grass. He himself sprouted up several more feet. His smoking jacket lay in tatters behind him. He had transformed into a werewolf.
Ronnie realized once more just how much trouble she was in. Initially, the thought of combatting a werewolf-vampire was merely frightening, but just now it occurred to her just how hard this man would be to kill. She quickly fired another fireball at him before he could get his bearings and scrambled down the corridor.
Even without looking back, she could hear the shredding of carpet and the tearing of wall paneling behind her as the monster destroyed everything in his way just to reach her.
Now, Ronnie was most certainly in a life-or-death struggle like no other she had faced. But still, when she came upon a door to her left that was rattling and vibrating, practically off its own hinges, she had to pause to investigate. She didn't get very far before Mercurius appeared, however, barreling along at top speed. Ronnie rolled to the side just as the door splintered and shattered outward, followed by an explosion of light, the brunt of which hit Mercurius full-on. He broke through the opposite wall, and was buried in rubble in whatever room was across from the one that had just exploded.
The light had just faded when Ronnie heard a terrible scream of agony. She went through the doorframe and looked around the room. The walls were relatively undamaged--stable enough to hold for now, at least---and the door, of course, was gone. She saw Jaoullin doubled over on the floor in his undershorts. He was hurting badly.
To buy herself some time, Ronnie took the huge armoire by the doorway and pushed it in front of the opening, blocking the way. She hoped Mercurius was still navigating his way out of the collapsed wall in the other room.
"Jaoullin! What's going on, why are you here?!" she cried.
"R-R-Ronnie...aah!" Jaoullin moaned. He made a horrible retching sound, and vomited. "I...I... did a bad thing... ohhhghh..."
"What happened to you?! What's wrong??" she demanded frantically. He pointed weakly at the Star Ostrich Sword, which was laying not far from his outstretched arm. She noticed also that the injured knight was wearing the same kind of gauntlet Mercurius had been, on one hand.
"I...took it... I took the rune from the sword..." he coughed. He made a vague gesture to his body, and then screamed loudly, writhing in sudden pain. Ronnie stared in shock.
"Wait a minute... you did this??" she hissed, aghast. He let out an agonizing sob.
"I put it on me... I put it one me to get out of here..."
"Jaoullin, you don't know anything about rune attachment! You could've killed yourself!"
"OhgodRonnie, ithurts..." Jaoullin said, tears squeezing out of his eyes. "I think I did kill myself..." Determination cemented Ronnie's will in place.
"DON'T say that. Don't ever. I'll get you out of this." she promised.
The armoire shuddered suddenly, under intense pressure.
"Waaahhnnnngghhh..." Jaoullin groaned, convulsing. "Keep...keep it back..."
Mercurius was coming in.
******
A few clouds had blotted out the full moon over Antei as the bandit crew and their guide ran along through the streets, plunging their path into darkness. It was not too dark, however, to see that a group of men had assembled straight ahead. Men in uniform.
"Hold it right there!" commanded one of them. "You're the escaped criminals!"
No one slowed, not even Ralloric.
"Hey! We said STOP!" shouted another Imperial soldier. The groups got closer and closer, about to collide. The Imperials drew their weapons just as Cornelius raised his palm into the air.
"Why don't you cool down for a bit, hmm?" he groused, casting Breath of Ice on the entire group with his Flowing Rune. Several soldiers dove out of the way to avoid being frozen. These remaining few attacked with a vengeance.
"We don't have time for this..." Scotch sighed, producing daggers in a hurry. Eyesoar flew straight up, grabbed a gutter on a house, and swung himself off, kicking over two or three of the soldiers at once. Pauline sank her teeth into the arm of one trying to put her into a headlock.
"Look!" Ralloric gasped, his head snapping up. A brilliant light split the sky from somewhere in the city, accompanied by a loud 'crack'. While the Imperials gaped in confusion, most of the bandits had a good feeling that light had come from their destination.
Quickly taking advantage of the distraction, Cornelius bashed the heads of several soldiers together, and the rest of the bandits mustered all their strength to render them unconscious as hastily as possible.
Kicking up speed, the bandits resumed their dash for the dark mansion once more.
******
Ronnie was just pushed an overturned table up to the door when the armoire fell over completely, busting the table up and essentially dashing any more plans of keeping the mad collector out. She took advantage of the broken table by picking up one of the legs to use as a club. Mercurius entered, his wolf-face twisted into a snarl.
She swung at him with the club. It didn't seem to do much, but no one liked getting smacked with a blunt object, so it served the purpose of keeping him somewhat at bay.
Tristan, apparently conscious again, appeared behind Mercurius and put his sword into the monster's back. That was a blow that could've killed a man, but for this man, it just made him more angry. He whirled on Tristan, knocking the undead swordsman to the ground and beating the bejeezus out of him.
"Stop! Stop that! You don't even want him! I'm the one you want, aren't I? Come and get me!" Ronnie shouted desperately. Mercurius ignored her, landing blow after blow on Tristan.
Unsurprisingly, this made her quite... agitated. Her temper flared once more. This time, she found that the Hate Rune powered up even greater than before. This time, also, something had changed.
Jaoullin cried out behind her. She turned to find that his entire body was engulfed in light. But where was the light coming from? Wait... it was coming from inside of him! From his rune...? The angrier she got, the brighter he got. The runes were connected! As much as this revelation could have helped, Ronnie found herself concerned for Jaoullin's safety. What if she somehow hurt him?
"Ron...don't... don't stop..." Jaoullin cried. "We can beat him..."
She knew that wasn't true. Vampires were notoriously difficult to make expire, and only silver could do it to werewolves. But she could certainly blast the living fuck out of the bastard.
"AAAAAHHHHH!!!" she raged, as she released the pent-up fury within the rune. The Hate Rune and Solar Flare Rune united, and the combined force was too much even for Ronnie.
The roof and the walls of the room turned to ash and fell away from the attack. Mercurius received a holy beating like none he'd ever experienced. Ronnie was tossed towards the outer wall like newspaper, and due to that wall no longer existing, she nearly fell off the edge. Gripping a toppled writing desk, she anchored herself until the magic subsided. Even then, a tangible crackle, a static energy--this remained, thickening the air.
Mercurius stormed over to her, livid. He had clearly not expected her to put up this much of a fight. He raised his fist, snarling in an animalistic voice.
"I will freeze your heart, and RIP IT FROM YOUR BODY. You cannot defeat me, even now!" He pointed at her chest. Ronnie felt the room get colder as the Frostbite Rune began its work.
Suddenly, the cold air just faded away. The magic of the rune... fizzled out.
"W-what's this?! Why isn't it working? Accursed thing!" he gasped angrily. A smoky light behind him coalesced into the shape of Alani Marceel.
"It doesn't work" she said coldly, startling the monster, "because it isn't yours." With that, the ghost-girl plunged her hand into Mercurius's body, taking control of her rune one las time. Ronnie could see flakes of ice forming on the beast's fur.
She looked around for something, anything. A sword, a knife, a---- YES. Scrambling on her hands and knees through the rubble over to where the contents of the writing desk had spilled everywhere, Ronnie's hand closed on a letter opener. It was sharp. And it was silver.
She climbed to her feet. The rune collector was writhing and struggling against the powers of Alani's rune. A thousand thoughts flashed through Ronnie's mind. This was the man who had killed her father. He had killed her fiance. He had killed her mother. And he had killed Ronnie. Her only chance for a normal life had died ten years ago.
"Why...why did you... come back?" he choked at Alani. She remained silent. He forged on. "Y-you can't kill me this way. I'm more powerful than both of you---"
"Do us a favor." Ronnie said icily. "Shut the fuck up, and die." She plunged the letter opener into his chest, and he gasped in horror. Her arm moved more swiftly, and she stabbed him again. And again. And again. A decade's worth of frustration and loss went into each strike, and she quickly lost count.
Mercurius de Valognes, malicious rune collector, fell dead, in a pool of his own blood. Ronnie finally let herself exhale. But she wasn't out of the woods, yet.
The crackling magic energy left over from her own rune attack was swirling around Alani, who shot Ronnie one of those apologetic looks again.
"I'm...I've lost control... get out of here...!" she whispered, her image flickering like a candle. A chill wind blew Ron's hair back suddenly, blasting the entire room with frigid air. Ronnie looked skyward, and her jaw dropped. Spiraling out of control, the Frostbite Rune's last gasp had summoned an icicle the size of a tall building, which was plunging towards the mansion.
There was no time to lose.
*******
Nikki glanced at Kranach, puzzled. The vampire had suddenly stopped attacking, as soon as that unearthly roar had ripped through
