The Children of the Lake 10
Foroca II focused on moving.
She didn't need to look to feel the other's presence following at even pacing. The labyrinthine grounds of the Floodlands should have been the perfect place to lose the traitor, every turn bringing its own camouflaged sinkholes, scum infested stagnant ponds, walls of wood and gnashing ivies to slow down those unused to the region, her unfortunate acquaintance of weeks now.
How she wished it had been that easy. Beliar III, if that was their real name, kept up at such leisure she was starting to worry she might be the novice here. Her body was eximious, an example for all faceless to follow in both genetics and conditioning, but she loathed to admit they were making her feel sluggish.
No, she had been bested. The traitor had seen through her lies, through her bluffs, and now had to know she was searching for an ideal strike angle, why hadn't they engaged her yet? Why couldn't fortune and logic be on her side for once? It was humiliating!
Worse, the Traitor's words were ringing true in her head. A mere scout such as her being the sole survivor was a shame worse than death. Every lesson imprinted on her person spelled out as much. That she was captured again, locked in a box like a sack of meat, and abandoned without harm or reason? From another's shoes, she would have killed herself without a second thought.
But she had been honest! For once in this damned suicide mission. All she needed was an easy to raid group, A merchant or a mildly well off family or a caravan of deserters, just enough nutrition to last until she found a way back to the Tunnels, the only safe way inside the Gale's walls for their kind. Was this some kind of joke? Punishment?
"How long now?" the Traitor said, almost scaring her into a dangerous slip. "It's been an hour, but I see no signs of your unit, or its passage."
She didn't stop, throwing a furtive glance over her shoulder. "Sorry sir, some of the signage we left behind might have been tampered with, but I'm positive we are close!"
Under scrutiny, she had to recognize the Traitor had been careful with their image: Nel Salazam leather with padded underclothes, unadorned and subtly enchanted steel cuirass, standard field work cloak with veiling enchantments to avoid disturbing any Gale forces they might have to engage with, standard gear for veteran executioners.
Not that she would recognize them as such, that would be an insult to those warriors who once believed in her potential. Small, weak looking, and yet self-righteous while committing naked treachery? They could be a particularly adroit and aged face wearing stolen equipment, confident in their skills, otherwise why would they have removed the Sigil of a bunch of other when that only made them harder to track and keep accountable?
And their weapon hadn't escaped her notice either. A Rava, the ivian spiral blade, instrument to the barbarous Mountain Tribes famous for its ritualistic purposes, and made of demonium of all things? They couldn't have chosen a worst weapon against her, no, a bigger slap in the face to all they should represent, so why that in specific? Where did they even get it?
... Could it be all they had to arm themselves?
Nothing here made sense. How had they removed their Faces' Sigils in the first place? That was supposed to be impossible, it was firmly embedded in vital points of the body. She didn't have access to the right Receptacle to tell, but even if they were a faceless she doubted they hadn't removed their own too. Also, why were they merrily crossing through the Tyrian's Bellfort in the open? On an ancient model Oke too, of all things?
A guess came to mind. Nothing but an unfounded supposition. It struck like the blade of an axe, chilling her to the core, too foul to even consider. Such dreck shouldn't even know where the relic had been hidden, how would—
Then again, it was possible exactly because it was illogical. She had been missing something, and this piece made the puzzle fit perfectly, didn't it? Beneath notice and human enough to get through the lax borders, meanwhile walking away with one of the Remnants most precious treasures, no need to fear foes they might already have deals with.
She had never relished lacking a face as much as this very moment. There would have been no way to hide her delight! This was exactly what she needed to redeem herself!
Although, if she was right: what next?
She couldn't lower her guard just yet. They couldn't have accomplished the heist without some powerful backers, after all, and by the end of the day she might have to fight her way through Tale agents, or Heirs.
Didn't matter. Her plans had always involved slaying the Traitor and their band of vermin, which is why she had lured the idiot in a long circle. Sadly, a crucial part of her plan had involved the now impossible ambush, so she would have to improvise a little, and sacking that Oke would have to wait.
She shouldn't underestimate her opponent, face or not. Under the Remnants wings, only seasoned warriors got to walk away from the nest. She wanted to avoid a direct, or worse, prolonged battle when she still had at least half a dozen others to cull later. She had just enough Mush to last her day, the next if she did this right, but she couldn't waste a drop if she wanted to return alive.
And the less she reminisced on her equipment the better. Her best weapon was gone and probably stashed away by now, her armor was scarcely better than tatters, and the spares she carried were far from ideal to take down another close to her level.
By the books it was a rough scenario, but what did she have to lose? Now, she needed an advantage, a way to catch them unaware and bridge the gap. The typical faceless maneuvers might be too predictable, so—
"You never told me how many of you survived." the Traitor said, breaking her chain of thought.
"I didn't? Apologies, sir. Four of us survived, all scouts, kept behind to deal with a sensitive situation. We arrived too late to aid the main unit in any significant manner," she said, fist clenched. "They broke us fast. Once we realized our superiors had fallen, we decided to retreat and report."
"And in this first ambush, were you blinded too?"
It repulsed her, to have this raw wound being prodded by a Traitor. No, far worse was allowing herself to be hurt that way, faceless shouldn't be able to feel helpless. And yet, the despair that washed over her common sense when she remembered those executioners she craved to match one day were slaughtered like children, or how comrades she had fought besides for years screamed as they turned into toys of meat and blood, it refused to fade.
There were no other survivors, only she escaped to endure this shame. "It was dark, and they were fast, coordinated. I saw plated armor, and weapons too burdensome for most dashi. Beyond that... details were hard to observe."
" ...I can imagine."
If only she could still puke. Could they really? Imagine the laughter, the howling, the way those animals jeered at the dying? How bold of them. As if she needed more motivation for her next step.
Still, she enjoyed the next few seconds of silence before her move. When she spotted a position that would require a long jump to traverse, and would make evading difficult, she reached through the fold of her Mark, drawing her last javelin towards the surface and waited. Any second now.
"You suffered a lot," they said. "Know I didn't doubt that, from the moment I first saw you."
Surprised, but focused on her goal, she didn't risk more than a glance back. "Sir?"
The Traitor was already gone.
She knew the farce would never last, but she had forgotten for a moment she wasn't the only one aware of that.
Trying to halt her momentum, she stumbled into a muddy pond, quickly scrambling out of the water, scanning her surroundings for the attack. Nothing behind her, nothing in front, nothing to the left nor the—
The sound was so soft, she would have ignored it in different circumstances. Reflexes born out of years sparring with older, wittier faceless saved her by the fraction of an instant, a draft blowing past her hair. No time for proper aim, the javelin flew, disappearing into the darkness of the undergrowth, not remotely close to glancing the darting shade.
She needed distance, time! Launching herself the opposite direction, she reached inside her Mark again, pulling her precious short sword, half enchanted steel and half Demonium, a gift earned when she first joined her unit, and readying a second projectile, a hastily knapped rock. Every move of hers shattered the night, clouds of splinters and mud clouding the air, while the Traitor delighted in untouched enchantments, slipping noiseless out of view.
"I won't insult you by asking for your surrender, comrade," Their voice was close, too close, yet where?
She could feel herself boil from the inside. "Insult! How dare you speak of insult when you, defector, dared mock my fallen comra—"
Too fast, and they were there, right below her, as low as a crawling insect, lower than she had ever seen her superiors move. The rock flew, wild and far, then so did she. There was no immediate pain, not from the hit that crumbled her hip nor the impact against a tree that dislocated her shoulder. She saw the blow of grace arrive, and slashed madly before she could reach the ground. They dodged away, buying her seconds, if that.
One of her legs could still move, her arms could still drag her away, and that would have to do. She limped, pulling herself away, weapon pointing in all directions, so intent in seeking the Traitor she missed a low noose ivy, mistake of nature grown too low for its usual hunting methods, react to her.
She cut it apart before it could get hold, but the momentary snag of her wounded limb sent a jolt of agony that made a certain grab of her hand miss, slipping her into a patch of brambles.
She recovered quickly. It couldn't have been more than a second of arrest. Whirling, she swung.
She didn't see what broke her wrist, sending her weapon flying. All she saw was the second move, as the Traitor's elbow rose, then dropped above her right breast.
She hadn't had a chance, did she?
The battle ended there, on a bed of roots, a follow up blow crushing her clavicles and neck, sending every muscle of her body into spasms. Done, the Traitor stood there, watching her try to wrestle control of seizing limbs and breaking joints.
Why? Why couldn't she move? She could still fight! She had weapons, she had techniques, plans, will! She was better than this. She had been taught better than this, endured starvations, beatings, was made an example of what awaited those who failed their birth duties until she had it carved into her gray matter: The First Mission no place for failures; the faceless had no place for fear.
But when she mustered the strength to spit in their face one last time and saw her projectiles bubble out of her quivering Mark like froth, she knew she was afraid.
She had been perfect. She had honed flawless. It wasn't her fault they were taken by surprise. She couldn't die here.
"... But I can't let you go."
She didn't want to die.
"Glories to Eligor." They loomed over her, blurring and warbling as her senses, too, escaped her control. "Glories to the Senesa. May the Peaceful Night finally grant you rest."
At the name, her vision sharpened one last time, and she saw it. A ridged shadow prowling above the forest, bestial members as thin as sticks holding a bulk far too large for the branches through which it carried itself down, towards her killer, just waiting for their task to end.
Everything came together, every bit of recent luck recontextualized into pieces of a puzzle she didn't know existed. She had been played all along! What a rotten joke!
So when a foot stomped her temples into one, she wished she could laugh.
At least she wouldn't be leaving this mission alone.
With Agare's exit, came a desperate scramble to get the Oke out of the hole.
Strong of body, Holly was tasked with helping the physical labor. Besides the amazing Furfu, every bit as mighty as her, they set to clearing away debris and digging a hasty ramp for the Oke to drive up, Blades and Rosen patrolling their surroundings while Lilly and Aleh stayed inside.
Holly would have loved to say the work took her mind out of the situation, but every time a blade of grass was rustled and Rosen took stance with that strange silver knife he had pulled out of nowhere, or Blades' rapine vigil caught notice of something no one else had, her chest would tighten.
By dusk's arrival, nothing had happened, which perhaps was worse than the alternative. Agare never returned.
The work was exhausting, and by the time they managed to dig a firm enough path through the myriad roots, fibrous fungi, and unknowable substances left to ferment and harden inside old critter dens, she was worn to the bone. Her fingers were hurting from how thoroughly she had to use her nails, and the battleaxe that Foroca had left behind did its best but was dented practically flat.
"It doesn't need to be perfect," Rosen said, piping in from nowhere. "Oke's were created with rough terrains in mind. So long as there's enough road it doesn't topple back in, it'll handle the rest."
"I-I hope so!" Holly said, ripping out a net of hair-thin offshoots. "A-are you okay, Rosen?"
"Me? Ha! Can't you see these muscles?! I am no faceless, but neither am I a desert flower, girl." Rosen chuckled without mirth and patted his bicep.
"I know, but you were right there when she appeared. S-she didn't hurt you or anything, did she?"
"No, don't worry, nothing we couldn't handle," he said, staring into the distance with a pensive expression.
"W-why did she treat you both like that in the first place? So mean! Aren't you supposed to be friends? O-or comrades, anyway!"
"... A Faceless, alone, around these parts? Probably having a rough day, I'd wager. As I said, I don't like guessing what my superiors think."
She stopped, turning in his direction. "I-I... Not that I disagree with your mindset or anything, but..."
"But you think I should start."
He gave her a look that said more than a thousand words, so she quietly went back to work.
Night arrived. Agare never returned.
Aleh coaxed the Oke into making the climb out and several paces away. The poor thing felt horribly frightened, a swarm of shredding Will protecting its outside but getting increasingly thinner, pliant, and so passive it could barely bother with the reaching fingers of her own creeping their way in between. Once she did press, however, it turned vicious like a cornered animal, leaving a few hands several digits shorter, a wound that wouldn't bleed but did leave her light headed for a while.
"Agare said we should wait one hour," Almalilly said, closing a small round device with a smooth copper shell and a thick line of thread around her hand. "That would be two hours ago."
"Luck favors the faceless," Aleh, who had just climbed out the cabin and now dangled his legs down, commented. "In mine professional opinion, the Oke won't be moving any time soon, not without crippling it's defensive measures for the foreseeable future."
"Young sir, I don't think you should stay exposed," Rosen said, "and If the sir thinks—"
Aleh clicked his tongue, jumping down with an elegant twirl. "Rosen, get this through your thick head: 99% of all faceless don't care about enchantment beyond which side of the blade it sharpens best, and I would not put these palms to the flame arguing your little 'sir' bears the slightest difference in that regard."
"What I mean, young—"
"Or allow me to rephrase: we rode the Homunculus dry. Keeping at maximum speeds at highest protective settings an entire week, irregardless of terrain or cruel traps to cause severe damage, is not without cost! An older specimen would have fared better, but mine is, in essence, a juvenile, and make no mistake, push it further will break it wellbefore the most difficult legs of our mission!"
"Can't we compromise?" Lilly said, rubbing at her chin with a frown. "Keep the security up and move as slowly as possible?"
"A-and what's a Homunculus?" Holly said.
Aleh sighed with a shake of the head. "I promise to explain it in as much detail as you want once we are out of this mess, Holly, but not now! As for a compromise, depends on if you assume a worst case scenario, that is, that tattered urethra somehow won and is bringing the last of her unit to help with the 'nourishment'. If you do, I would not recommend it."
Rosen and Lilly's faces darkened. Holly looked on to Blades and Furfu, who were busy watching the woods, but neither seemed like they had anything to add.
"Can't say I like the idea of staying either," Lilly said. "This whole situation stinks something fierce."
"No shit." Aleh turned, giving their vehicle another once over. "Wish I could say we are having a string of bad luck, yet cannot blind myself to the undercurrent of purpose behind it."
They could see it, then.
"I don't enjoy the idea of being a sitting duck, but I will defer my decision. With your leave?" Rosen said.
"Think we can get at least a little further from that pit?" Almalilly followed suit. "Would help me sleep tonight."
Aleh clicked his tongue again. "I suppose a few meters—"
"Get inside, now." Blades' words hushed them all.
"Explain yourself, at least?" Aleh said.
"Listen." Blades whispered.
Holly strained her hearing trying to understand what she had heard, until she realized the problem was exactly the opposite: the Floodland's jungle, once vibrating with life, had grown almost completely silent.
Almost. First, she noticed distant chirping, fading awy with every passing moment. Then, in the ensuing absence, a faint noise, picking up speed from the left of the road, a strange sort of constant friction, trickling and dripping and—
The answer barreled down through the vegetation, some six or seven paces away, bringing a line of debris on its back. Water, too much water, slithering rivulets quickly surrounding them until the road was filled with murky pools, dirt, and struggling pests.
"Blades, Rosen, to arms!" Aleh's sharp cry broke their collective awe, making Furfu jump back as if the flood was toxic. "I want you both watching from above, slaughter anything that approaches! And you, you blundering asshole, what are you staring at?! Get one of your faceless gadgets out!"
"I-I-!" Furfu babbled, somewhere behind.
"Hopeless fucking thing! Almalilly!"
"On it!"
A hand grabbed her fingers, trying to pull her out of her daze. The unusual gesture did bring her back, for an instant.
"Holly, we need to get inside!" Had she ever seen Aleh this panicked before? "Something is coming and it might just decide you are an obstacle in its path, so we—"
"I know."
He stopped, staring at her in confusion. It was a nice, to be reminded she wasn't alone anymore. But the others couldn't dispel the familiarity, the glimpses of inferno she caught beneath the current, about to devour her entire world again. She had Elder Seneschal with her too, back then, but how did that help?
One of the streams rushed towards her feet, serpentine and purposeful, turning into a puddle around her toes. The wet cold that seeped into her she didn't feel in the flesh.
"Mariwa, beloved, rejoice, for we have come!"
Bone deep repulse wracked her. That Will was like God, like hers, real and solid in a way nothing else used to be, yet so different she would rather experience that starved, crushing boulder again. It was slick, smooth, soft in a way she could only guess was meant to convey some sense gentleness, yet the way it branched and wrapped itself around her made her feel like she was being engulfed by a ball of worms.
"Cast away your parasites! Misshapen degenerates who dared pull down magnificence into the muck of vermin! Let the lice flounder, drown in grand depths, scorn of our Lady's beautiful domain!"
"Get away from me!" Holly screamed through her Will, arms that were not arms in a frantic battle against the invader crawling across her. Hopeless; where she scratched, the skin resisted, and were she plucked the worms divided, scattering as if they had never been in her grasp. "My name is Holly! Holly Seneschal!"
"My Mariwa, why do you fight?" Pity was injected right into her, like a bloated burrowleech piercing through the skin of her thumb, sickening. "Why deny yourself so? Could these animals have erased our blood's beauty from view?!"
"You are the animal!" she tried to escape in vain; her body could step back, yet the outwordly grip holding her down was stronger than steel. She fought the only way she knew. "You child! Loser! Traitor!"
"Can you truly not feel your own purity, my Mariwa?" She realize with a start she was helpless. They spoke, and the venom grew more potent with every word. "Blinded to the Blood, to the crimson beauty from the Lake Mother and the Brave Father! By these disgusting, mud crawling beasts!"
It didn't let go, but amidst the wrath and bloodthirst she could feel the worms stray, searching her surroundings, ignoring her every rebuke as if she wasn't even speaking.
"Holly!"
Perhaps it was the way she moved, or how she couldn't take her eyes off the water. Too fast for reaction, Aleh jumped right in front of her, sleeve pulled back and wrist crawling with twisting distortions. He plunged his arm into the puddle around her feet, injecting himself in the midst of the battle.
A mass of predatorial intent crept over her, prickling legs moving at dizzying speeds, savagery carved into every smidge of its carapace, tearing into the foreign body like a gale of knives while doing her no harm worse than a caress.
"Holly, I will distract it for a second, pull yourself out!" he yelled, never breaking his focus,
"N-no, Aleh, stop!"
"Now! I can't hold for long!"
Aleh's Will was gorgeous. Nothing like the mist she had once felt, this was sheer aggression, a desire to harm that belied human nature condensed into countless blades. For that brief fright, it dominated the conflict, an unbidden and feral creature lashing out with endless fangs and claws.
Too hollow, too frail, too fake. For its quality, it lacked substance, all show with no bulk. The moment she caught on to it, so did their enemy, and retaliation came swiftly.
A scourging mass of tendrils struck without discrimination, tearing the intent to pieces. Memories from her conflict against God prepared her for the attack, allowing her to brace herself against the worst of it, but Aleh had no such experience. The puddle exploded around them, And Aleh's head snapped back with a strangled gasp.
Knowing it wouldn't stop there, she pushed Aleh away. In her panic, she didn't measure her strength, and Aleh was thrown. The hard thud as he struck the Oke's side sank her heart. She watched him drop to the ground, limp, as if through a window. For a moment, she even forgot she was there at all.
"Young sir!" Rosen's voice woke her from the stupor, as he jumped back down and rushed to his side. "Hold on, I'm getting you out of here!"
"Lilly!" That was Blades. "Fuck the Homunculus, we need to leave now!"
"I'm trying, but it's not answering me!"
"Behold their shameless depravity," the other Will said, placid. "Impudent scavengers, hosts of befouled divinity, interrupting a holy moment..."
"Please, stop!" She begged, wrapping herself around it to hold them back, and quickly finding how little that did as the worms slipped through her embrace. "Leave them alone!"
"My Mariwa, I have come to deliver you from this. Await me, for no pest shall interfere with your freedom."
No heat nor fire, It happened again regardless.
She knew now. What could Elder Seneschal have done? Nothing. Regular humans weren't built for this. Marquise had insisted they would be with her, but she had to have meant something else, her comrades couldn't protect her any more than the Lesser's villagers did.
Elder Seneschal had seen the truth. It's why he paid to entrust their safety to her. Whatever may come to happen, she decided she wouldn't disappoint him anymore.
"Let not the tainted hold you," The other Will said, water flooding all around her legs and quickly reaching for Rosen and Aleh. "For the ancestors—"
"Stop," She didn't know what she had reached for, but the strength behind her command gave the enemy pause. "I'm free now, I'm coming to you."
"My Mariwa, have you seen light?"
"Yes. I'm coming."
"For the Given Blood, for our Old Vetara!" Happiness flooded into her, and she struggled to not let it settle. "Follow my Divine Intent, Let us be reunited!"
"A-Aleh," she tried to speak, but the words came choked. "A-Aleh! I'm sorry! I-I shouldn't have... no, we can talk about this later. I-I'll be right back, okay? I'm not giving up on Marquise's mission! Please tell that to Agare if he comes back before me!"
"Holly," Somebody whispered, she didn't turn to look.
"A-and Blades! I-I'm not giving up on Lilly's dream either, alright?! I-I'm going to deal with this really quick, and then be right back!"
"No, don't—"
Too late. Holding to the foreign Will like a hand offered, she broke into a sprint, leaving them behind.
Familiar or not, this wouldn't become another Lesser so long as she lived.