CHAPTER THIRTY

THE STORM (PART II)

A servant erratically runs through the castle, clothes covered in blood as he fumbles and falls; cold sweat flowing from his brow and fear etched deep in the knees.

He bursts into Lord Belmon’s quarters, struggling for each breath.

“My Lord, murder!” the servant yells loudly.

“Calm down and tell me what happened,” Lord Belmon says placing his hand on the exhausted servant’s shoulders. The man takes a few deep breaths to compose himself.

“My lord, the Kushien has betrayed us. He has killed the nobles! Duke Embro, Dutchess Emna, Lord Obul and Mayro even the lesser nobles, all but the Prince,” the man says with eyes of worry.

“The man has served me for years. How do you know it was he who did this?” Lord Belmon asks.

“I saw him. I’ve walked in to deliver tea and I saw it, my Lord. I saw a room painted in red with the blood of the nobles. You must run, Lord Belmon,” the man says.

“I see,” Lord Belmon says as Rash-An appears at the entrance to his quarters holding a bloodied sword.

“No! I will not let you hurt the lord, traitor,” the man says as he quickly takes a sword from the small ornamental weapon rack in the room. He awkwardly holds the sword with shaking hands.

Suddenly, the man gasps as if something took all the air away from his lungs; the sword drops as he grabs his chest, falling on his knees.

“I am sorry, but you have seen something you shouldn’t have,” Lord Belmon says as he appears in front of the servant holding a bloodied dagger.

“It is done?” Lord Belmon asks as he approaches Rash-An.

“It is. Are you sure about the Prince?” Rash-An asks as the dying servant watches the two men converse with blood dripping from their weapons.

“I am. He is a dimwit. There should be enough things to occupy his mind,” Lord Belmon says as he smiles.

“We won't be able to hold on much longer,” Rash-An adds.

“It should be enough for the reinforcements to come here. I did not want to lose Lord Mayro but he would have been the first to realize the timing of the reinforcements and the attack were...questionable,” Lord Belmon says as he sighs.

“Almost as if people were sent ahead time to get reinforcements. Almost as if the feast was planned to fit in with the invasion. Almost,” Rash-An says as he smiles.

“It is their fault, to be honest. If we told them about this, they would flee the city and leave us to fend for ourselves. They have become too complacent. The city would have been destroyed by the Northmen, and we would have lost everything or be dead. But now!” Lord Belmon says as he smiles.

The servant desperately struggles trying to hold on to his life.

“But now the Kingdom of Ferro will want revenge. What better place to focus their resources than the city closest to the Withering Lands,” Rash-An adds with a smile.

“Exactly. It is their fault for abandoning Union after everything. In its time of need and a time of peace, they discarded it like an unwanted child. But this child has survived and it will grow stronger than ever,” Lord Belmon.

yells.

“What about him?” Rash-An asks gazing over to the dying man.

“Kill him,” Lord Belmon says as he walks away.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Rash-An adds as Belmon turns to him.

“What?” Lord Belmon asks.

“He is already dead,” Rash-An says.

“A shame,” Belmon adds.

“Should I go and protect the Princess?” Rash-An asks.

“No need. We have things to do. We are still at death’s door,” Lord Belmon says as the two men walk leaving one corpse in a circle of red.

Two cloaked figures walk through the castle with strands of white hair sticking out from their hoods.

“Excuse me,” the white-haired man asks a strolling servant girl.

“Um... yes?” she responds, baffled by his beauty. He leans towards the girl as going for a kiss; the girl remains motionless as watching herself from the distance. She shakes as blood pours out of her mouth. The man takes a step back. He laughs.

“This is no time for games,” the white-haired woman says as she passes, hitting him with her shoulder.

“It was merely a jest, dear sister,” the white-haired man says as he smiles.

“Who are you?” a guard yells as he stumbles upon the situation with three of his companions. They notice the dead servant girl.

“Leave if you value your life,” the white-haired woman says.

“Intruders!” the guard yells as they charge.

The white-haired man smiles as he steps forward; dodging the flurry of spears as if dancing through them. Standing at the back of the four guards, he smiles as he slaps one of them; knocking the guard to the wall with dominant force and killing him on the spot.

“Devils!” a guard yells at the sight of such an unreal display.

Two guards come charging in as the white-haired man appears in front of them, grabbing them by the throat and lifting them in the air; their weapons fall as they try to wrestle his grip.

“You are mine!” the fourth guard says as he goes to impel the white-haired man. He stops!

“Quickly, stab him. Stab him now,” one of the strangled guards yells as loud as he can. The fourth guard remains motionless.

“Stab him. Help,” another of the strangled guard whimpers.

Suddenly, blood pours from the fourth guard's mouth as he falls to the floor. The white-haired man shatters the necks of the two guards and drops them. They smile overlooking the bloody mess.

Outside, at one of the castle entrances.

“Hello. My name is Melione,” a woman says as she smiles.

“What in the...?” the guard blurts out as he notices a young woman with a bloodied white dress.

Before the guard can act he gets hit on the head with a sword hilt; it dazes him but he remains standing. Big Pete appears behind him as he puts him in a choke hold. The guard struggles before finally falling asleep.

“Sturdy dat one,” Harry says as Big Pete nods.

“I thought I would knock him out with a single blow,” Ulric adds as he inspects his weapon.

“People dun easily fall ancus like dat,” Little Pete adds with a self-righteous smile.

“Unconcious,” Harry says correcting him.

“Wat?” Little Pete says as he scratches his head in confusion.

“Ya say it properly, ya uncultured swine. It is un-con-cious,” Harry slowly spells it out.

“Dat wat, I say. Ancus,” Little Pete says as he shrugs.

The battle outside continues as the Northmen seize more and more territory. Slowly retreating and holding off every point of advantageous ground they can the remains of the city guard and the noble’s soldier fight on. The citizens of Union help by throwing rocks and everything they can find, backstabbing, shooting arrows from afar as they struggle; they must, for kill or be killed is the only fate available to them. The blood slowly spills from those that failed as the death wave continues reaping.

Noname walks through the castle hallways as her two maids, Sara and Layla, follow her; her right eye twitches at the annoyance of always being chaperoned, but she learned to deal with it.

“This is tedious!” Noname yells in frustration. She almost learned to deal with it... it is a process.

Two figures appear in front of her, some distance away. The two white-haired mystics from the lands of the North. Blood drips from the man’s hands.

“It is her!” the white-haired woman says.

“Yes! I can... smell her,” the white-haired man adds as he takes a deep smell.

“Wolf! Wolf! Wolf!” Noname blurts out as her ticks intensify.

“Who are you?” one guard yells as he notices the bloodied figures.

“Stay back, Princess,” another guard yells as they move to defend the Princess.

“You cannot save her. She must die,” the white-haired woman adds as she maliciously smiles.

“There is no reason to throw away your lives. Leave and you can keep them,” the white-haired man says as he laughs.

Noname knows these looks; she experienced them on the faces of cutthroats in Union, whether personally or as a bystander. It is a look of a murderer. Noname draws out her dagger.

The guard draws his sword and attacks. The white-haired man moves towards him as he grabs the striking sword in his hand, leaving the guard with a shocked expression. With a single punch, he shatters the guard's skull with stalwart brute force. The horrific sight weighs heavily on the onlooker's courage.

The remaining guard plunges towards the white-haired man in a desperate attack as he quickly moves behind him; entangling the unfortunate guard in his grip. He strangles him like a snake its prey.

The white-haired woman moves closer as she extends her hand.

“Die,” the white-haired woman gently says with a faint smile.

Layla runs in front of Noname, desperately trying to protect the Princess; she shakes as blood spurts out of her mouth.

“Layla!” Noname and Sara yell as they grab the falling maid.

“Ya bastard!” Noname yells as she grips her dagger tightly.

“What a waste,” the white-haired man adds. The mystics approach.

Suddenly, a bolt flies. The white-haired man’s instincts take over as he quickly moves. Almost evading the bolt, but not quite. The bolt strikes his left arm.

Ulric appears in the company of Harry, Little Pete, and Big Pete. He shoots two more bolts, but the mystic evades them.

“Can ya even aim?” Harry asks, combat-ready.

“He can aim, dat bastard is nat human. Me thinks,” Little Harry adds with his dagger out.

“Dat was a joke, Little Pete,” Harry says as he sighs.

“A joke?” Little Pete says as he looks at Big Pete, who nods. Big Pete never did say much with words, but he did with his fists; he tightens them.

“Harry, Pete?” Noname yells.

“We’ve come to see you,” Little Pete says as he smiles.

“Ya look weird,” Harry adds.

“Shaddup baldy!” Noname gives the joyful insult back.

“Yep. Dat is her,” Little Pete adds as the three thieves smile.

“Those that seek death shall find it,” the white-haired man says as he turns his attention towards them.

“Kill them! I shall deal with this one,” the white-haired woman says as she turns towards Noname, Sara, and the dying Layla.

“Hello! My name is Melione,” Melione says as she appears in front of the white-haired woman.

The voices whisper.

“They are the ones?” One asks.

“They are, but they are not. The extensions they are,” Two adds.

“What do we do?” One asks.

“What we always do,” Two says.

“KILL!” One and Two say in unison.

“KILL!” Melione repeats.

“Begone!” the white-haired woman says as she extends her hand. Melione slowly walks toward the mystic as blood pours from her eyes, mouth, nose, and ears; she does not stop. She will never stop. This is her way.

The three thieves and Ulric attack the white-haired man with a relentless flurry of blows. He dodges Ulric’s sword as Big Pete punches him in the face; the white-haired man looks at him, amused. Harry and Little Pete stab him in the back; the daggers don’t go in far. He hits them away with the back of his arms as they fly away some distance. Ulric continues his fight with the white-haired man as he struggles for his life, slowly being pushed back. Little Pete grabs the enemy as he holds him in a clinch.

“You should realize your limits,” the white-haired man angrily says as he grabs Little Pete’s arms, almost breaking them with pure strength.

Ulric appears as he slashes him with all his might and stabbing him in the stomach as the last attack. The wounds are superficial. The mystic punches Little Pete, breaking his right arm and knocking him to the ground. Noname appears near him as she backstabs the unaware mystic. He slaps her away; she tries to avoid but the impractical dress constricts her movement. With a bloodied face she punches the ground in frustration.

“To hell with dis!” Noname yells as she cuts her dress quickly; she removes all the unnecessary elements. Making the long dress look more like a short skirt. Ulric continues attacking as the attacks make the mystic bleed, but he does not last long; the white-haired man knocks his sword as he lies on top of the lying man. Suddenly, Noname jumps him from behind as she mercilessly starts stabbing him in the neck. The dagger pierces more and more.

“I WILL KILL YOU ALL!” the mystic yells.

Big Pete grabs the mystic by the legs as he knocks him and Noname down. Little Pete and Harry join in as they jump him with their daggers.

The mystic screams. In the chaos of this unseemly battle, Ulric joins in with his cold steel. The attacks continue as the white-haired man covered in blood stands and throws them all away; he looks at them with fury as he closes his eyes and falls to the ground.

Melione covered in even more blood continues her way towards the white-haired woman.

“Why? Why won’t you die,” the white-haired woman yells.

“Dead like bunnies in the fields! Dead like bunnies in the fields!” Melione sings as blood pours from her every orifice.

“No! Stay back! STAY BACK!” the white-haired woman yells as she retreats, trying to hold off the unyielding nature. Melione’s bones crack, but she moves on as she stands in front of the white-haired mystic; she puts her hand on her shoulders as she hugs her. The mystic shivers and after the shivers come the screams of pain. The crackling of the bones, the screams of anguish all combine in one symphony of horror.

“I know what you are! I know!” the white-haired woman says as she dies; the two fall upon each other as their bloodied and broken bodies intertwine in a grotesque spectacle.

Prince Takon arrives to witness a horrific scene like no other; blood covers every one of them and Noname is no exception.

She walks to him placing the bloody dagger in his hands. The Prince looks with utter shock.

“Can ya get me something to drink?” Noname asks.