Rise (War Witch Book 1)

by Cain S. Latrani

  "I'm just trying to be realistic," he replied.

  Giving a sharp snort at that, she stalked to the dresser and jerked out a cotton shirt and a pair of leather slacks. "Realistic. Whatever. To even suggest that, I don't even know what to say."

  With a heavy sigh, he reached for his pants and began tugging them on. "We need to face it, beloved."

  "I don't know what you mean," she barked, yanking her pants on in outrage.

  Esteban watched her for a moment as she fumbled with the fasteners, her hands shaking. "What we faced the other day, it's likely just the beginning. If we stay with her, we'll see worse."

  "Oh, so that makes it okay to just bail on her?" Chara yelled. "Leave her to face it on her own?"

  "She won't be on her own," he said, trying to keep his own voice calm. "Izra is likely to go with her."

  "No," she told him hotly.

  Nodding to himself, he admitted he'd known she would react like this. "We're not soldiers, Chara. Nor are we warriors, or Blessed. We have no training for this. To continue on with her after this is foolish."

  "Stop talking," she ordered, pulling her shirt on, finger stumbling over the buttons.

  "I won't," he snapped back. "You have a blind devotion to her that clouds your judgment, and I have an obligation to you to at least try and make you see reason."

  The look she gave him was pure fury. "We both swore, Esteban. That day, in the library, when we saw how many Blessed Draco had killed, we swore to stand by her, no matter what, to the bitter end. We made a promise, dammit!"

  "We didn't know what we were doing then," he bellowed. "How could we have? Now, however, now we really have had a taste of what we were vowing to stand by her through, and we need to rethink our choices."

  Growing ever more irate, Chara finally managed to get at least two buttons on her shirt fixed, and left off the rest, storming towards him. "She's our friend!"

  "Yes, she is, but how are we supposed to do anything but get in her way as we are now?" he shouted. "We're lucky to be alive. Don't you see that? We barely got through that in one piece! Next time, we most likely won’t be lucky, much less have an assassin, a Blessed, and an Ascended there to keep us from getting killed!"

  "I will not listen to this," she hissed. "I will not turn my back on her, after everything she's done for us, just because it’s suddenly gotten hard!"

  "We have done enough!” he retorted, his temper getting the better of him.

  "Enough?" Chara gasped. "How have we done enough? I'd be dead if it wasn't for her, and you would be the slave of a Demon sorcerer! At best!"

  "So that makes it acceptable to lay down our lives on her quest for revenge?" he retaliated.

  "Yes!" she screamed back at him. "It makes it right! It makes it fair! It makes it our obligation to do!"

  Esteban seized her by the shoulders. "I will not lay down your life, or mine, for her, or anyone else!"

  "Then you really aren't who I thought you were," she told him, shoving him away.

  Desperately trying to regain control of his temper, he balled his fists, grating out, "This isn't our fight, Chara."

  She paced away from him, hand to her face. "It's everyone’s fight. This whole thing is everyone’s fight. We can't just walk away, not now, not after seeing what she's up against."

  "What about our lives?" he demanded. "When do we get to start living our lives? Have you even considered that?"

  "No," she snapped. "I haven't. Not even once. Not until that son of a bitch is dead."

  Grabbing his vest, Esteban shook his head. "Then you aren't who I thought you were, either."

  "No, I really am not," she snapped. "I'll be leaving with her when she goes."

  "Good luck to you both, then," he grunted, slamming open the door and storming from the room in a rage.

  Chara stood for some time, staring out the window, trying to understand what had happened to her life. How it had gone so far away from everything she knew. When Esteban didn't return after a few minutes, she buried her face in her hands, finding she still had tears after all.

  They didn't last long, just enough to remind her she could feel something besides numb. Pulling herself together, she pulled on a pair of boots, laced them quickly, grabbed her gun belt from the chair in the corner, buckled it, and headed across the hall to speak with Ramora.

  The warrior opened the door after Chara pounded on it twice. She looked as if she hadn't slept in days. Too worked up to notice, her young friend pushed past her, missing the welcoming wave to come in the Blessed gave a moment after.

  "You won't believe what Esteban just said to me," she told her, pacing the room.

  Ramora figured it couldn't have been good as she went to sit back down on the bed, trying to sign to the other woman. She gave up after a moment when she saw it was pointless. Realizing she'd never seen her in such a state, the warrior settled back, letting her get it out.

  "He said we should stay here when you leave," Chara bit out, the disgust thick in her voice. "I mean, actually stay here, as in, not go with you. Can you believe that?"

  When Ramora didn't respond, Chara ranted on. "How could he even suggest such a thing? I mean, seriously! And he meant it, too! That's the part that really gets me. He actually, seriously, meant it! Like it was a good idea! Can you believe that?"

  Raising a hand, the warrior started to answer, then dropped it as her friend continued to storm about the room. "What in all the Hells is he even thinking? Abandoning you. Like that's going to happen. Which it isn't, so you know. It's just that he would even say it, much less think it! I don't even know where to start with how wrong that is!"

  Ramora bobbled her head a bit, noticed Chara hadn't seen that either, and pursed her lips in annoyance as the other woman kept shouting. "Not like he owes you a debt of gratitude or anything, am I right? You just saved his ass from a lifetime of horrific slavery, you know? Why, oh why, would anyone ever feel obligated to stand by someone who'd done that, right?"

  Heaving a sigh, Ramora stared around the room, waiting for Chara to blow off enough steam to remember she was there. It looked like it might take a few minutes.

  "Then he walked out on me!" she shouted. "Actually walked out! Like he's the injured party! As if he had some kind of a right to be upset, after what he'd said! So, fine, let him go! Let him hide! I don't give a shit! Whatever!"

  Chara stopped, standing in the middle of the room, staring at the floor. "I don't think he's coming back."

  Nodding, Ramora stood and moved to stand before her distraught friend, signing at her that maybe she needed to think about what her lover had said. She didn't tell Chara that she'd considered it as well. Somehow, she didn't think that would go over well.

  "What's there to think about?" Chara retorted. "Of course I'm coming with you. Especially now!"

  Seeing she needed to approach this carefully, Ramora suggested that maybe she should just hear him out.

  "Why?" Chara asked, voice torn between hurt and anger. "I couldn't do that to you. Not after everything that's happened. I wouldn't. I don't care what he says."

  He just wants to keep you safe, the Blessed told her, same as me.

  "Safe?" Chara huffed. "Where is that? Where's safe? I saw it, Ramora. A flying citadel! I was inside it! I saw them smiling at what they were doing! I saw what they can do! Tell me, where in this world is safe from that? Where could anyone go to be safe from them?"

  Maybe Rheumer, Ramora replied slowly.

  Chara's face twisted in pain. "You agree with him, don't you?"

  Struggling to find a way to answer that, Ramora hesitated.

  "You do," her friend whispered. "You think I should stay here. Why? Why would you ever think I could do that?"

  Chagrined, Ramora told her she was fearful for her safety. When they'd had the team, they'd maybe stood a chance, but now, she knew, they didn't. When she faced Draco, the best she could hope for was to kill him as he killed her.

  Chara jerked back from her in horror. "So t
hat's it? You've given up? You're just going to go die?"

  Shaking her head, the warrior tried to explain, wanting her young friend to understand it wasn't what she sought, but her hands stumbled, and she cursed her silent voice again. It would've been a lie anyway, she knew. It was exactly what she sought.

  "How could you?" Chara got out past the lump in her throat. "How could you even... Ramora, why?"

  Her hands fell to her sides. She could never answer that question. Not in a way that would make sense. Grimacing, she looked anywhere but at the young woman. Even if she had the words, she doubted Chara would understand.

  "I don't believe this," Chara said slowly, wrapping an arm around herself as she stumbled away from the Blessed, her stomach knotting. "You really are planning on dying, aren't you?"

  Slowly, Ramora nodded. She couldn't beat him, she knew. Even Collette hadn't been able to. Sixty-eight Blessed, all dead, by his hand. She had no hope of winning. At least, not while living. Maybe, though, she could end him with her last breath. That would be enough. It would make the world a better place, with such a small cost.

  Chara slapped her. "How dare you? How the fuck dare you throw away your life like that? Like it's nothing? What about the people who care for you? What about all the people who love you? What are they supposed to do? Just go on with life like everything is fine?"

  Ramora rubbed her cheek, the sting from Chara's hand painful. Seeing the grief-stricken look on her face, Ramora signed to her that she would be leaving with just Izra, unless the Elf chose to stay, in which case she would go alone. She wasn’t going to endanger Chara's life, or Esteban's, any further. It was the only way she could protect them now.

  Chara watched her fingers make the words, her expression growing more agonized by the moment. "I don't need you to protect me!"

  You do, Ramora insisted. She didn't know what it was really like, even though she thought she did. She should never know the real horrors the Demon Seed capable of. No one should.

  "I don't want you to protect me," Chara shouted back at her, slapping her hands down. "I don't need you to run off and die! I don't want you to just give up! What I need from you, what I want from you, is for you to live! With me! I just need you!"

  Shocked at her reaction, Ramora stared, eyes wide, as the young woman hitched back a sob, curling in on herself. Painful though it was, the warrior knew there was only one thing she could say now.

  We can't have that. Not now. Not ever. I'm sorry.

  "Go to the Hells," Chara yelled, pushing past her to get out of the room.

  Ashamed of what she'd done, she reached for her, trying to catch her, wanting to say she was sorry, make it right, hold her, dry her eyes, and kiss away her pain. Chara jerked away from her and staggered into the hall, her heart torn apart.

  Desperate, Ramora raised a hand, only to have it batted away.

  "I don't want to hear anything you have to say right now," she grunted. "Just, leave me alone."

  Chara stumbled down the hall, to the stairs, then vanished from sight. Ramora stood alone, hand still reaching out for her. She'd done the right thing, she was sure. It would be better for her, in the long run. She would be happier. She would live, long into the future.

  Slumping against the wall, she kept telling herself that in the vain hope she would believe it.

  She felt empty.

  Chara wandered the streets of Lansing, lost and alone, devastated beyond anything she'd ever imagined. Esteban had walked out on her because she refused to abandon Ramora, only for her to learn that was just what the Blessed wanted, so she could go die. The twisted feeling in her gut wouldn't stop churning, and she felt as if her very heart was bleeding.

  She paid no mind to the rain, or to the people going about their business in it. She passed homes and stores, ruins and craters, without ever once seeing them, letting her feet carry her, her mind too overwhelmed to be in control.

  He wanted to get away from the war between the Gods. She wanted her friends to be safe. Chara had seen, though, there was no getting away from it, and nowhere was safe. She had seen it, and couldn't unsee it. She wished she could. She wished she could go back to being blind to it.

  There was no going back, though. She knew that, too. No more than there was a way to undo what had been done. It wasn't possible. Leto could not be brought back from the dead, no more than Tanna, Flick, Sabra, Rick, or Bit could be. They were gone. Soon, Ramora would join them.

  Wrapping her arms around herself, her eyes vacant, she wandered with no destination, turning blindly, following the streets without ever once looking up. Ramora wanted to die. She wanted to try and slay Draco, at the cost of her own life. She couldn't even see how much she mattered, how important it was for her to live. She didn't even care how many people cared for her.

  She didn't care how much I love her, Chara thought.

  Like a knife passing through her, she thought of Esteban, and how much she loved him as well. It bothered her still, even distraught as she was, that she didn't remember falling in love with him. She remembered falling for Ramora, knew the exact moment it'd began. Not just her fascination with the Blessed, but the moment she had first felt her heart swell with love for her. She could count every single moment that had made her love her more.

  With Esteban, she felt as if she'd simply woken up one day in love with him. It wasn't rational, or reasonable, but she couldn't deny the emotion was there, either. She was in love with him, every bit as much as she was with Ramora, possibly more.

  Yet, that made no sense, either. What was it about him she was in love with? What was their common ground? Their shared experiences? Why did she feel guilty every time she was with him, as if she were betraying Ramora? Why did she feel guilty, as if betraying him, every time she thought of Ramora? The way her hands had felt, touching, caressing, it pained her as much as it fulfilled her, as it did with him.

  Choking down a sob, she floated, a ghost in the rain.

  Nothing made sense anymore. The whole world was just chaos. Guilt at loving one, guilt at loving the other. Pain, sorrow, regret, mixed with love, passion, and desire for both. A wretched world, filled with monsters that could rain destruction from the very sky, atop their flying mountains, and both of them wanted her to feel safe where there was no safety to be found.

  She felt empty, and desperately wanted it to stop, to feel at least half full. To feel something, anything, besides the awful, aching nothing.

  She wanted to close her eyes, and wake from this nightmare.

  She wanted to fight till every Demon Seed was dead.

  She wanted to scream until the world stopped moving.

  She wanted a world free of evil.

  She wanted to stop being.

  "Chara?"

  She stopped, turning to the sound of the voice that had said her name. Nerec looked back her, his face a mask of concern. Slowly, she remembered him. The Deep Elf shopkeeper who sold barbarian fashion. She had beaten him at a game of Masters, the two of them discreetly flirting.

  "Hey, are you all right?" he asked, stepping out from under the awing.

  "I... yeah..." she mumbled.

  Tugging her back out of the rain, he shook his head. "You're soaked to the bone. Gonna catch a cold like that. Come on inside. Let me get you warmed up. Maybe find something dry for you to wear."

  "Okay," she replied distantly, allowing herself to be lead into the store.

  The warm scent of leather greeted her, as she chilled, not realizing how cold the air outside had turned with the constant rain, much less that they were in the middle of spring, the days still often cold. Shivering suddenly, she wrapped herself tighter as Nerec stood her by the counter, hurrying into the back to get a towel.

  She looked around, only half aware of what she was seeing. The last time she'd been here, as she'd played against the Elf, she'd thought how good it would feel to bed him. Esteban had been standing right behind her, and she'd still thought it. What made he and Ramora think she had any r
ight to feel safe?

  What made them think they even knew her? She didn't even know herself, so how could they?

  Nerec returned a minute later with a large, soft towel, draping it around her before guiding her towards the back of the shop as he said, "I've got a fireplace back here. You can warm up by it."

  She nodded absently as he held the curtain back, letting her into the storeroom. Turning her, he guided her through some stacked crates and into a small apartment, where a fire burned warmly across from a small bed, a wide rug covering the floor between the two.

  "Here, sit," he encouraged, motioning to the rug.

  "I'm okay," she replied, wrapping herself in the towel as she hovered before the fire.

  "You don't look okay," he said softly. "What happened?"

  She shook her head. "Nothing."

  Nerec hesitated a moment. "If it's about the attack..."

  "I don't want to talk about it," she managed, not sounding angry, just tired.

  He nodded a bit. "Did you lose somebody?"

  "I think I lost everybody," she answered, staring into the fire. "I don't know."

  He pulled the towel up, drying her hair. "Well, I'm glad you're okay."

  "Yeah," she said slowly. "I'm doing great."

  Uncertain, he pushed the towel back, looking down at her with sorrow. "If you need to talk, or anything..."

  "I don't even know what I'd say," she replied, then sighed, slumping.

  He caught her, worried she was about to pass out. After a moment, he saw she was just worn out. Likely scared, too. He couldn't imagine how frightened she must've been.

  "If it helps, that sort of thing doesn't really happen often around here," he offered.

  "What sort of thing?" she asked.

  "Demon attacks," he told her with a soft chuckle. "Pretty rare. Doubt we'll see another any time soon."

  She nodded, a bitter smile playing across her lips. "Probably not."

  He rubbed her arms through the towel, trying to both dry and warm her. "Where were you when it happened?"

  "At the castle," she said offhand.

  Nerec paused, staring at her in surprise. "That's where the attack happened."