Blade and Soul

by C. M. Estopare

  She snatched her dagger from her belt.

  She had to help them.

  “Marceline!”

  Kiran's voice. Marceline hesitated.

  One of the spider creatures stopped. Turned and eyed her from afar. Crept forward with human-like limbs, hands grasping broken stone. Eyes glassy. Staring up at her without recognition.

  It sprinted. Bounded forward like a wolf.

  Marceline stood her ground as above, the dragon roared. Calling out to the night as it belched flame and cinder.

  The creature sprinted. Jumped.

  Talons erupted from its fingers.

  And it sailed—spittle flying from its maw as Lucius head-butted it in midair. His fox form stronger, more lithe. Deadly.

  The creature rolled. Sputtered as it hit the ground and sprang back up to standing.

  With a whimper, it rushed away. The creature a blur of black fur.

  Lucius cocked his head at her. Staring at her quizzically.

  Marceline bit her tongue and broke into a run.

  With a huff, he followed her. Racing past her on all fours.

  Dilapidated buildings zoomed past her, the carnage and destruction becoming a blur of black and red and pulsing scarlet.

  Their group became one again as Marceline and Lucius returned, the citadel's makeshift gate squarely in sight as they ran.

  Reine pointed, “Do you see that?”

  Marceline squinted. Nodded. Saw a literal hole in the citadel's wall.

  “That is our target.”

  “Right.”

  They kept at it, the dragon flying overhead. Curving through the air as it spied something. A screech erupting from its massive gullet as it burned a group of scattering undead. Snatched a writhing body from an adjacent alleyway, the highscale flung it into the air with ease.

  The gate became larger. Started to loom over them as they got close.

  A twang shook the world and Marceline brought her eyes to the sky.

  The twisted steel of a ballista’s black arrow sailed through the sky, the weapon flung from the neighboring eastern citadel.

  It pierced the dragon's underbelly, sliding between thick scales. The beast screamed. Dipped low in the sky only for it to beat its gargantuan wings and take off. Spinning towards the moon before curving towards the countryside. Disappearing.

  More blackened spider-like creatures began to emerge from the woodwork as they ran.

  Another twang pierced through the night sky.

  Marceline narrowed her eyes—there goes our only way of making it out.

  Reine threw her a look, as if reading her mind, “He'll survive.” she hissed, “He always does.”

  She nodded.

  But will we?

  They weren't far from their exit—a mile. No more.

  They sprinted. Labored breaths coming out as white puffs.

  The blackened creatures howled. Raced after them with clicking nails and hungry growls.

  Marceline didn't dare look back.

  Lucius sprinted forward, racing past them all.

  Kiran's face hardened as they pressed on. Racing faster. Spurred by Lucius.

  The dragon's roar came again.

  Reine looked to the sky as they skidded to a stop before the gate. She gasped, “He's not ours anymore—we need to leave!”

  Marceline threw her a crazed look, “What do you mean!?”

  “Just trust me!”

  A rusted portcullis sat closed before them, reaching down through the hole cut into the citadel's massive wall.

  Behind them, the blackened creatures amassed. Circling them. Eying them as prey.

  “Merde.” Marceline hissed as she sprinted at the portcullis. Wrapped her fingers around the bars.

  “Someone find a way to open it.” Kiran snapped, snatching the bow from his back and an arrow. Slowly, he aimed it at the creatures, “Quickly.” he added.

  Marceline could see no way. No lever.

  Merde.

  Reine shook. Stared.

  Another twang screeched. A blackened arrow sailing.

  It missed the highscale by a long shot.

  Screeching, its eyes maddened, the highscale belched flame upon the western citadel. Hellfire rained down in an explosion of fire. Scarring buildings. People.

  Screams littered the night like stars.

  Marceline turned. Flattened her back against the portcullis. Looked to the left.

  The great bridge.

  She looked to Reine, then met Kiran and Lucius's eyes.

  Cocking her head towards the great bridge's remains, she raced away.

  They followed—unsure of her plan as the dragon belched flame from above. Burning a handful of the blackened creatures while ten others scuttled after the group. Ravenous.

  Zigzagging through alleyways and winding streets, they came to the remains of the great bridge. A yawning gorge filled with rubble and steel debris opened up before them as another ballista freed an arrow from its mechanical bow.

  “What's your plan?” Reine screamed over the wind.

  Marceline took Reine's hand, “The highscale and you are bonded, correct?”

  Reine's gaze wavered. She nodded.

  Marceline tugged at her hand. Looked down into the gorge.

  Jumped.

  They fell. Gravity yanking them down.

  “Are you insane?!”

  “It won't let you die!” Marceline screamed back, “If you die, it'll die!”

  Reine's face fell, “I won't die!”

  “...what?”

  “I'm already—,”

  Kiran and Lucius watched over the edge, the elf's eyes wide as the fox changeling simply stood. Unnaturally calm.

  “I'm already dead!”

  Hair ripped past her face. The ground was coming fast. Faster than she could fathom.

  Reine is already...

  A shadow engulfed them. Gargantuan wings beat. A massive arrow sailed through the air.

  Marceline looked down.

  A muscled tail connected with her back. Scales biting into her skin. Air escaped her lungs with an oof.

  Reine's face smacked into the beast's tail and she gasped.

  Marceline scrambled to turn. To raise a hand and call her people.

  Immediately, Kiran jumped. Lucius took a running leap and sailed into the air.

  “He—he came for me.” Reine buried her face into the dragon's massive scales, “Friend, you shouldn't have...”

  Marceline threw her a pointed look. Hissed at her. Threw out her hand and caught Kiran's before he smacked into the dragon's tail.

  The creature curved its massive body.

  Lucius caught the bony end of the highscale's tail. Pawed at its scales and tumbled backwards.

  Fell.

  “Lucius!”

  Reine grabbed hold of Marceline's collar. Forced her to stay put.

  Silently, Reine shook her head.

  Marceline closed her eyes. Felt the dragon sail away, its muscles bunching under her.

  She expected to hear a crack.

  But nothing came.

  Curving around the gorge, the dragon soared higher—screaming. Screeching as it evaded another ballista's arrow.

  It dove downward and they held tight to the creature's scales as an angry wind threatened to rip them free from its back.

  Marceline looked down.

  Lucius landed. Stood on all fours. Bounded to the edge of the gorge.

  She gasped, what are you?

  Beating its wings, the highscale fled from the yawning mouth of the gorge. Met the Safranian countryside in an instant.

  “He won't let us stay on him for long,” Reine warned, eyes straight ahead, “get ready to jump.”

  As the dragon's shadow widened, Reine eyed the ground. Marceline watched grass blades wave in the distance.

  Clinging tight to the dragon's hide, she crept to its side. Close to the grass. The land.

  It flew close to the ground. Around five feet.

  S
wallowing air, Marceline jumped. Spun through the air. Hit the ground and tumbled. Rolled to a stop.

  Two more bodies hit the ground. Kiran and Reine.

  Untangling her arms from her torso, Marceline pressed herself up from the grass.

  THIRTY-THREE

  Marceline

  They returned to Fort Endure without much fanfare, arriving under the cover of night.

  As the portcullis rose, Kiran faced Marceline and Reine. Inclined his head slightly, “I'll report to Ludovic.”

  Marceline let out an audible sigh, she had been dreading the consequences of this venture. Knowing well that Ludovic knew nothing, but greatly disproved of her shoving off on her own. Nodding, she let the elf stride into the dark courtyard first.

  “So, this is where you live now.” Reine drawled as she followed Marceline beneath the portcullis, “Do you know who these people are, Marceline?”

  Marceline stopped. Paused in the haze of the courtyard, “Reine,” she snapped, “shush.”

  Walking the bridge to the alchemist's tower in silence, Marceline led Reine to her bed chamber and allowed the other woman to take over her bed. Finding a cool spot on the floor, Marceline curled up and passed out almost immediately.

  Now, she dreamed of gods—the Fates. She saw dragons and sparkling stars hurdling towards the earth.

  She woke with a start—gasping, clutching her chest.

  Morning had come too soon.

  Reine was already up. She sat in Marceline's bed, her head turned. Her eyes glued to the window at her left.

  “Do you have a change of clothes for me?”

  Marceline held her head.

  Do you even sleep?

  Motioning with her hand, she gestured for Reine to follow her as she stood and flung open the door to her chamber. Two women jumped up from the ground and regarded her with her title. Marceline simply grumbled. Told them to fetch a bath and call her when the water was heated.

  Marceline took Reine to her old chambers, a study now. Directed her towards the late alchemist's massive dresser and told her, “Take what you like.”

  Marceline took a chair and sat. Listened to Reine rummage through the dresser.

  It hit her that she should be questioning the woman. That she should be learning all that she could.

  But for a moment, a mere second, Marceline wanted to pretend that everything was as it should be. That she was an Agent again and Reine her charge. That the Savatiers still lived and that Lucius wasn't...whatever he was.

  She imagined a dragon hadn't helped her escape the calamity in the western citadel. That the dead weren't coming back to life and that there weren't strange creatures with black fur settling in the western citadel as if they belonged there.

  I haven't seen the Fates. I haven't met a djinn.

  Marceline snapped her eyes open.

  The time to pretend was over. This was her reality, and she refused to back down from it any longer.

  “Reine,” she began, finding her voice, “back there, you said you were dead.”

  It was more of a statement than a question. But it got the reaction Marceline wanted.

  Reine visibly stiffened.

  “What did you mean?” Marceline asked.

  “You shouldn't ask questions you already know the answer to.” Reine snapped, “It's impolite.”

  “Are you like those creatures in the citadel?”

  “Obviously not!” Reine shook her head, “Look at me—there's no distinguishing how alive I am in contrast to you. I'm alive—in a sense of the word—but my soul...” she stomped her foot, “...that damned djinn took my soul!”

  Did that mean she couldn't die? “Why ask me to kill you then?”

  “No,” Reine took a step forward, approaching Marceline slowly, “I made you promise. I know how you are with promises and contracts. Marceline, you promised!”

  Marceline's upper lip twitched.

  “This is no way to live!” Reine said, throwing up her hands, “My heart is empty, as if there were a gaping hole in my chest. Silk feels like hay against my skin. When a man touches me, it means nothing. I am all but indistinguishable from those creature's in the citadel! In death—the only thing I retain is my beauty! And in time, even that will fade, Marceline.” she paced. Brought her hands to her face and shook her head, “I was meant to die on that scaffold! I should be dead!”

  Reine sank to her knees and Marceline sank with her. Wrapped her arm around her shoulder and listened to her tear up.

  “I can get it back.”

  Reine twisted. Shoved Marceline away, “Don't you get it?! I don't want it back—I want to die! But without my soul—death is pointless! Besides, you can't face a djinn, Marceline.”

  She set her jaw, “Don't underestimate me.”

  Reine barked a laugh, “The highscale could have easily killed you—a horde of those undead would've ripped you to shreds—and here you are, believing you could take on a creature that steals souls?” she laughed again, throwing back her head before facing Marceline once more, “You haven't changed a bit, Agent. At least something is right with our world.”

  Marceline stood. Fists clenched. Could this be the same djinn that has tormented her? That threw her into the realm of the Fates?

  “You only need its name to summon a djinn.” Marceline said.

  Reine's face blanched. She stood and crossed herself, crossing her arms over her torso.

  A soft knock rapped at the door, “It's ready.” called one of the tower staff.

  Marceline and Reine exchanged glances, nodded to each other.

  Reine hesitated as she grasped the door handle. Slid Marceline a sidelong gaze, “When I'm ready, I'll tell you everything.”

  And she left. Giving Marceline no time to respond.

  Marceline simply stood there, staring at the door. Fists clenched. Thinking. Wondering how she'd kill a damned djinn.

  MARCELINE GAVE REINE space. Leaving the alchemist's tower, she embraced the cold morning air and exercised with her recruits and agents in the courtyard.

  She let her mind wander, concentrating on throwing knives and hitting targets. The clamor of daily life died away as she concentrated, her mind solely fixated on wood and steel. Even the whispers of her people became murmurs. Died away to a cold nothingness.

  She knew what was going on. That things were coming to an end.

  That this was the quiet before the storm.

  Kiran broke her concentration. Forced her to face the truth of matters, “I'm sure you've noticed how empty the courtyard has become. Absent Severin's forces.”

  Her knife hit the center of her round target with a twang.

  She went to retrieve it, but stopped as Kiran grabbed her shoulder.

  “The Soliel is mustering his forces for an attack against the highscale tomorrow, Marceline.”

  She shrugged her shoulder away, “That's suicide!”

  “Is it?” Kiran smirked, a hint of amusement in his tone, “I'm pretty sure we have an ace.”

  He meant Reine. Of course—they didn't know that she cannot be killed. Not yet.

  Merde.

  Marceline couldn't look at him—knowing the Spears were doomed if she didn't retrieve Reine's soul from the djinn.

  “If we don't get rid of that highscale soon, it will destroy what's left of Safrana.” he stepped in closer, “We have no time left. We need to act.”

  “I know.”

  “Then will you do it?”

  Again, the courtyard faded. The cold, the frost, the song of weapons as they struck their targets.

  Can I do it?

  For a moment, she met Kiran's eyes.

  Is he...pleading?

  She wanted to tell him the truth—that she wasn't sure she could.

  A djinn...how in the world do you kill a djinn?

  “She's your friend, Marceline...” he was getting there. Becoming more blunt. Losing all decorum. Beneath his breath, she almost heard a please.

  Marceline sighed.

>   She had no choice.

  This was her duty. Her problem.

  Marceline met his eyes then. Set her face, “When the time comes, you know you can count on me.”

  His face grew softer, he nodded slowly. Shot his hand out to clasp hers, “You've got until sundown tomorrow.”

  She breathed.

  “Right.” sundown tomorrow.

  “I haven't told him about her.” he said suddenly, sliding his hand away.

  Marceline smiled. Shook her head and looked up at him, “Merci, Kiran. You are a good friend. I'll tell him immediately.”

  He returned the gesture, prepared to leave but hesitated, “You've changed things here. You've given the people hope—it's all thanks to you that we'll actually have a chance against this highscale. And a chance at taking back our homes. On behalf of the Scyllah, Marceline, thank you.”

  Two elves stood to either side of him, curtsying low as he bowed.

  Marceline watched with wide eyes—unsure of what to say. Of what to do.

  Have I truly brought hope to these people?

  It was too soon to guess—to assume.

  But now, she knew that if she failed she forfeited the lives of hundreds. Maybe thousands.

  The mantle fell to her now.

  Everything fell to Marceline.

  And it settled heavily upon her narrow shoulders.

  RESTING HER KNUCKLES against the door, she took a breath. Rapped once. Twice.

  Nothing. Heat crept from beneath the door, warming her ankles.

  She brought her fist up again. Shook her head and sighed heavily before letting herself inside.

  The room was dimly lit. Small candles flickered upon a low table before a heavy oaken bed. Out of the three sconces jutting from the left wall, only one was lit.

  Despite the low light, the large chamber was sweltering, the heat hitting her as hard as a mallet as she entered. Shrugging off her coat, she searched for Ludovic.

  Shouldn't he be here? She couldn't find him anywhere else, searching the fortress high and low only gave her nothing. He couldn't be anywhere but here.

  Taking a few steps forward, she searched. Eying the deep brown walls with suspicion as a large shadow danced from her far left.

  Following the shadow, she found him bare chested. Hunched over a deep brown desk with white steam emanating from the muscular planes of his back.