V S M Civil Unrest

[Beatrix III]

“Infantry reserve into the center, Serjeant!”

The main cohort had been crushed and the front line was faltering. As the enemy infantry crested the hill Beatrix drew her sword, prompting the rest of her troops to do the same. Each moment passed in slow motion. She could see the enemy getting closer, her body willed her to sprint forward, but she waited, twirling her sword in her hand.

“On me!” She shouted, sprinting forward.

The entire battalion behind her followed suit. The ground almost shook from the number of soldiers now on a collision course with one another. The two lines of infantry slammed into other throwing the front line to the ground as each side battled it out. Beatrix recovered quickly, the 19-year-old parrying a strike and driving her sword into the attackers’ stomach.

“Step by step, men!” She shouted ducking under an incoming slash.

Grabbing the enemy soldier by the neck she drove his blade into his ribcage and walked him forward into his comrades, knocking them down. Both hands on her sword she swung wide and decapitated the man in front of her. With a kick she threw his body to ground and pushed forward. A slash from her right came through and caught her cheek. The redhead could feel the blood from the slice running down her cheek. With a growl she riposted another attack from her quarry and removed his left arm. The battalion of troops behind her followed her advance, breaking a hole in the enemy line. As Beatrix made her way to the back of the enemy line she spun around and pointed with her sword.

“Split! Company Able to the left. Dog to the right! Encircle the lines.”

Troops began pouring left and right, pushing the sections of the enemy line further apart. Beatrix double fisted her sword and swung into the nearest group of soldiers slicing into enemy troops continuing the fight.

***​

Jaina brushed unkempt hair out of her face as she read over the documents, she had managed to obtain regarding the bastard child of the King.

“Finding him is going to take a miracle. It has been 34 years since he was born. He could be anywhere.”

Beatrix was staring out of the window in their room into the rain. She fiddled with a ring around her finger, deep in thought.

“What did he look like again?” She asked.

Jaina held out the sketch her contact had given her. The redhead turned around and took the paper. After a few moment she smirked and tossed it back into the pile.

“What?” Jaina pressed, seeing her lover’s facial expression.

“I served with him in the Arcadian military. He was in my company. At that time, he went by the name Gavin Atrius.”

“Are you serious? Did he make it out!?” Jaina said slightly concerned.

“Gavin was the better swordsman back then. He was still going strong around the time I had left.” The redhead replied.

“Fuck. What are the odds he’s still in the army?” The sorceress asked.

“Very low. Regardless we’d need access to the military records of Arcadia.” Beatrix mused.

“That may not be a problem. When Arcadia and Merania were at war, Meranian spies copied a good deal of Arcadia’s records. It is one of the main reasons the war lasted for so long. Arcadia couldn’t stop the clandestine activity in their own city, so Merania was kept abreast of anything they were doing.” Jaina explained.

“So, we need to infiltrate Merania. Fucking great.”

Beatrix turned to face Jaina, who had long ago stripped herself naked to sit on the bed and look about her documents. She was beautiful. Her hair was undone from its usual braid and loose, flowing to one side. The Mistress moved her gaze about the sorceress body. She had a figure that she could appreciate greatly.

“What are you looking at?” Jaina asked, her face slowly turning red.

Beatrix approached the end of the bed and dropped to all fours onto the mattress and crawled her way to the sorceress.

“You.” The redhead whispered into Jaina’s left ear before kissing her neck.

Jaina closed her eyes and fell onto her back among the blankets as Beatrix pushed her back, kissing her along her neck. Pinning the white-haired sorceress to the bed the blood mage brushed her lips across Jaina’s. Proudmoore opened her eyes and met the gaze of her lover who had pressed herself against her body. With slight hesitation Jaina reached up and kissed Beatrix on the lips. The red-headed mistress smirked through the kiss and reciprocated. Jaina was beginning to breathe heavy with anticipation as Beatrix began to kiss her way down to the sorceress’ chest.

***​

Beatrix and Jaina emerged from the tower they had been staying in, moving through the castle town towards the center square where they were to meet Seventeen. They had bathed and gotten themselves outfitted with their usual gear. Jaina’s hair was braided once more, and Beatrix was donning her mithril plated armor and equipment.

“Good to see you on your feet.” The android said as Beatrix made her way into the square.

“Good to be back. With any luck we can get this resolved.” She replied.

“Your message sounded dire, that’s if translated Jaina’s script correctly.”

“The situation is bad.” Proudmoore added.

“It’s straight fucked. We need to infiltrate the Kingdom of Merania for their stolen Arcadian records.”

“You think they’ll tell us where he is?” Seventeen asked, staying on point.

“I’m hoping they’ll give a direction to start looking. I served with him for two years before I was discharged. We knew of each other, but he was the better soldier and had a natural knack for commanding troops. I was usually leading my squad to alternate objectives.” Beatrix explained.

“Isn’t Merania the Kingdom who was sieging Lodis?” Steve asked.

“Yep. Now you see the gravity of the situation. We need to leave ASAP. No doubt the army has told their commanders about us, so we’re going to have one hell of a time getting in.” The mistress added.

“I may have a solution for that. With a properly placed mana bomb I could breach the city walls causing a big enough distraction for us to get into the city and get what we need.” Jaina said.

“Same bomb that made your hair white, right?” Seventeen asked.

“Correct. It’s worth a shot, but we’re going to have to source the materials from somewhere. Any ideas?” Beatrix said, shifting her armor slightly.

 

[Android XVII]

Piece by piece, the plan was gradually starting to go from simply ‘a thing’ to something with steps, fail safes, and a variety of increasingly gruesome Plan Bs to pick from, should this incredibly ludicrous situation go south (which it inevitably would). Despite the lunacy, Seventeen and both of his female compatriots understood that this had to be done, one way or another.

Nearly three days after their first discussion of the topic, the trio found themselves meeting once more at a campsite that positioned them within a few hours of the Meranian border. Tucked among their supplies, the portable mana bomb lay within a metal cage designed to prevent the weapon from accidentally exploding during transit.

“You know,” Seventeen replied as the three sat around a small, carefully concealed firepit. “Back in the day, I went to this community college seminar on shapeshifting… I could probably just infiltrate this city and let y’all in, couldn’t I?”

Jaina’s features twisted up and her brow furrowed for a brief moments before she finally shook her head. “It’s not a terrible idea, and you know that I’m one who would prefer to take the path of least ‘arrows and swords in our face’.”

“But?”

“The place is still on lockdown. Even if you managed to get through one of the gates, I believe you’d still wind up having to fight in some manner to create an opening somewhere to let us through as well. No matter what way we slice it, this won’t be a simple operation. Plus, there’s no telling where the archives are located, nor do we know what type of condition they may be in.”

Seventeen scowled slightly as he glanced over at the bowling ball-sized explosive. “When it rains, it pours,” he muttered as he glanced back to Jaina.

“We will be fortunate,” she spoke softly. “At least eight of the legions of Merania are not bivouacked within several days march of the city.”

At that, Beatrix twisted herself back to face the other two and frowned. “Do you know where they have marched? To the Idrisids?”

Jaina shook her head. “It was an organized march, yes,” she began as she nudged the flames to keep them from dying down. “But it was in response to some sort of corruption that has supposedly taken root in a region north of here. They were gossiping about it in the pub last week… talking about deranged cultists ‘unmaking the world’ and summoning winged demons to assist them. I thought it was just nonsense, but I eavesdropped on a returning scout’s report to the king a few days later. The scout corroborated what I heard in the taverns.”

“So, you are saying we have demon-worshipping cultists trying to bring about the apocalypse?” Seventeen asked with an incredulous look at his face.

“I fear the truth may be worse. Your jest would be the preferred reality, but I fear the truth is the darker side of the equation. I don’t doubt that these forces, if they are as fearsome as the scout made them out to be, will be a threat to Lodis.”

“Which,” Beatrix grumbled before she took a long drink from a waterskin. “Means they’re a big threat to us.”

“Of course,” Jaina responded.

“Lovely.” Seventeen punctuated as he got up and started to stretch out his limbs. “I’m going to take a short nap before we start on the last leg of this journey. Wake me up if I oversleep.”

***​

A few hours later, the cyborg was shaken awake by Beatrix, who simply nodded her head once she was certain her colleague had his senses. In silence, the trio made the final trek toward Merania, leaving behind their camping supplies and only bringing along the mana bomb.

“We know the plan, right?” Jaina whispered as they reached the boundaries of the rapidly thinning forest that bordered three fifths of the walled city. Nearby, the gentle rumble of a river that bordered the rest of Merania could be heard, even if the wide body of water itself was shrouded in the thick dark of night.

Beatrix, who had been in a dour mood throughout the night, took this as one more chance to voice her concerns. “I don’t know why you can’t have me tend to the bomb while you create the diversion and slip back into the forest.”

The blonde sorceress smiled softly as she shook her head. “I’ve told you multiple times already. You know that I’m the only one who can properly prime this weapon. If you or Seventeen attempted, your odds of blowing yourselves to pieces would be astronomical.”

“Yea, I’ll just settle for being shot at and threatened by men in plate armor,” the cyborg whispered as Jaina pointed to a point in the walls roughly fifty yards from the tree line and awfully close to where they estimated the riverbank to be.

“I’m going to detonate the mana bomb at that spot… that’s also where the sewer drainage from the streets is held before being routinely and gradually released into the river flow. The drains and waterworks mean the wall there is a little hollower, and the blast should be enough to bring down the adjacent tower. If the sewage disaster and explosion aren’t enough to cause chaos than the collapsing tower should seal the deal.”

“Where do you want my distraction to take place?” Beatrix whispered as she started to check her equipment.

“Head about three miles around the city’s wall,” Jaina instructed as she carefully set down the large rucksack that contained the bomb. “Once we hear your distraction start, I’ll prime the weapon and send it rolling toward the wall.”

“And after the bomb,” Seventeen muttered. “You and I make a mad dash into the city amid all the haze and chaos?”

“Easy.” Jaina grinned.

“I will join you both inside,” Beatrix replied as she started away from the two. “I’m creative enough when I need to be.”

“I know you are,” Jaina whispered as the bloodmage vanished into the shadows.

Roughly fifteen minutes later, Seventeen and Jaina heard the clarion call of the town guard from the far side of town. The pair shared a final, sobering look as the blonde sorcerous retrieved the faintly glowing bomb from the bag. “Ready or not,” she whispered before she primed the bomb for its final departure.

“Ready or not,” Seventeen echoed as Jaina sent the now shuddering explosive rolling toward its destination.

 

[Beatrix III]

Four guards. Two archers in the gate house. Time to work.

Beatrix was crouched two hundred yards away from the eastern gatehouse. Her hood was up, and she had covered herself in a black cloak to hide the mithril plates on her armor from the moon light. She could hear the drunken laughter of the men at the gate. This was going to be almost too easy. Reaching behind her into a pouch secured to her belt the Mistress removed a singular crossbow bolt for her wrist launcher and with projectile in hand cranked the device. Placing the bolt in position she lined up her arm with the guard standing on the wall. The shot hit its mark and the man stumbled before falling from the wall to his death. The commotion caused several other guards to exit the gate house to investigate what was going on. Beatrix stood to make her way forward but was forced to the ground by a blind-sided hook from the left. She was thrown to her right, stumbling only for a few moments before reeling to face her attacker.

“The famous sanguine phoenix lurking outside of my gatehouse. Now that isn’t going to work for me.”

Rebekah. This just got complicated.


“You were supposed to be dead.” Beatrix spat, wiping blood from her broken lip away.

“Sorry to disappoint.” The woman said, drawing her sword.

“I always hated that my brother fell in love with you. You were beneath him. A waste of his time. Then I hear that he dies of plague shortly after marrying you. You really are nothing but a death dealer.”

“I loved him! His death was not my fault!” Beatrix shouted, alerting the nearby guards to her presence.

They began to rush over to save their Captain. However, when they got close enough the woman waived them off.

“Make sure she can’t escape, but…she’s mine.”

“Fine Rebekah. Let us end this little feud. I’ll put you in the ground just like I did my husband. Maybe you can have a family reunion.” Beatrix said, drawing her elven blades.

Rebekah let out a frustrated scream as she led into the fight with a high guard. Meeting her blade with her left Beatrix pushed the sword aside and rotated the sword in her right hand, bringing it down towards Rebekah’s neck. However, just like true Zulenka fashion the woman closed the gap and shoved Beatrix back before she could connect, making the sword pass harmless over the woman’s left shoulder.

“You’re no Zulenka, bitch. You don’t deserve to use that name!” Rebekah screamed as she threw her sword to her opposite hand and spun out of Beatrix’s guard.

The Mistress barely had time deflect the blow. She could feel the bite of steel cutting into her ribs. As good as she was at fighting, Beatrix was no Zulenka. Vladimir’s entire family were born and bred to be legendary warriors. Moving her fingers to her right side, Beatrix felt the warmth of her blood. Her eyes lit up with their usual bright red color. Leading with her left hand the two women locked into combat, trading blow for blow against their weapons.

“Just die already!” Rebekah screamed out in frustration as they Beatrix deflected another one of her strikes.

Beatrix ignored the her for the most part. She did not want to kill the only remaining family member Vladimir had. She deserved a chance to continue her bloodline.

“Stop this, Bekah. I’m not your enemy. I don’t want to kill you.” The Mistress tried to reason.

“Fuck you, Beatrix.” The other Zulenka said pointing her blade forward.

Both women charged each other, dancing around each other’s attacks. It wasn’t until Beatrix made a mistake that Rebekah capitalized on did the Mistress feel she needed to end this quickly. Another bite of steel cut into Beatrix’s left arm forcing the woman to reel backwards and drop the blade in that hand. Behind the stinging pain the redhead could feel the flow of blood from her wound begin to move down her arm. She had been trained ruthlessly by her husband. She had thought to be his equal. The reality of the situation sank in fast. She was losing and Rebekah Zulenka was the better fighter.

Closing her eyes and fighting through the pain, Beatrix picked up her second weapon and inhaled sharply. Charging forward she threw both of her blades at her opponent and as Rebekah parried both Beatrix dropped to her knees, sliding across the wet grass. Clasping both hands together the blood mage formed a lance of blood and swung upward across Rebekah’s guard slicing into her breastplate. With a swift leg sweep Beatrix brought the woman down to the ground before driving the blood spear into her waist. With a scream of both pain and frustration Rebekah drew a dagger from her belt and jammed it under Beatrix’s ribs.

The redhead clasped her hand over the woman’s dagger hand, removing it and the dagger before driving it into the woman’s chest. The two women lay on each other, holding the dagger that was now sticking out of Rebekah’s chest.

“Curse you, Beatrix. Why…why did kill him.” The woman coughed, blood running down the corners of her mouth.

Beatrix twisted the blade and replied, “I didn’t. You just blame me. Now let go.”

Blood was filling Rebekah’s lungs and she was having an increasingly difficult time breathing. She was gasping for air though mouthfuls of blood.

“Shhhhh,” Beatrix said, placing a sweat and blood covered finger to the dying woman’s lips.

Beatrix pushed the knife in deeper and as she watched the life fade away from the last remaining true Zulenka she rolled off her corpse and onto the ground. Her blood magic had already ceased the bleeding from the wound in her abdomen. Picking herself off the ground she retrieved her blades and began making her way toward the gate and the horrified guards who were protecting it, her blood red eyes glowing brightly.

I’m sorry.

 

[Android XVII]

As someone who had lived through a metric fuckton of explosions, Seventeen was still taken aback when the mana bomb detonated. He had to be close enough to the blast to allow him to teleport into the fallout right after that first wave of lethal energy, but even still, the sensory overload was a bit of shock.

And – bear in mind – this cybernetic asshole once thunder-punched an actual dragon-man through a fucking star. Once you’ve literally been the cause of a supernova, there’s just something about all lesser explosions that doesn’t hit the same. When you have literally ate a candy bar of PCP and proceeded to skydive without a parachute, there’s just not as much enjoyment out of doing a few lines in a dingy bathroom.

Nevertheless, the concussive wave nearly stole the air from the man as he laid hunkered down and waited for the blast to die down. If anything, the wobbliness in his legs and the droning noise that filled his ears were simply a glowing inditement of just how much he’d lost in the process of destroying that particular dragon.

But I’m here, and he’s probably scrambled to bits in that blackhole. Serves him right, the pompous, blue asshole.

When he reached a count of forty-five in his head, the cybernetic warrior pushed up off the ground and blocked out the aroma of burnt flesh, charred wood, and the strangely heady aroma of what almost smelled like pool water.

Ozone. Jaina said arcane explosions often reek of ozone.

As he rubbed his eyes, Seventeen glanced around what was once an empty alleyway adjacent to the large stone structure that housed the waste removal ‘facilities’ (if such a term was applicable in a medieval city whose sanitation amount to dumping their literal shit into gutters that eventually fed into a river). Glancing at his hands, the cyborg verified that his shapechanging still worked as it should, and hopefully, the shock of the subsequent waves of force hadn’t garbled his appearance.

“Are… are you okay?” Someone screamed from just a few yards away.

Seventeen looked up and saw that a guardsman was stumbling toward him, through the thick haze that now hung over the streets of Merania.

“I… I…” The cyborg continued to mumble and stare at his hands until the guard, who was likewise a bit battered himself, got within range. In a flash, Seventeen got a palm on the man’s face and melted the whole thing away with a sudden, pulverizing burst of ki that was quickly lost in the haze and the chaos of the scream-filled city block. Before the man’s helmet had crashed to the street, the cyborg snatched it out of the air and placed it onto his head, which now mirrored the mangled guard lying at his feet.

“That’s for the hat, Pal.” Before he left, Seventeen scooped up a massive stone and brought it smashing down on the upper half of the man’s body.

Now properly disguised, the cyborg went about melting into the general chaos that surrounded the site of the explosion.

***​

For her part, Jaina couldn’t miss a single step in the equation she had calculated that would bring her into the walls of the city at a minimal risk of detection. As the bomb began its thirty second travel toward the targeting location, the sorceress broke into a mad dash toward the outer workings of the ‘sanitation facility’. Counting the seconds in her head, she set her eyes on the fourth pipe and dove into the water. She came to a rest at the bottom of the deep river, positioned directly beneath that outtake of filth and garbage and held her breath as she reached the terminus of her count.

At thirty-five, the bomb erupted, and the first three feet of the river boiled away in the blink of an eye, Jaina started to count down from ten as she kicked violently off the riverbed. With her heavier cloak long abandoned, the already lithe woman darted up like a missile through the rapidly heating water, and as she breached to the surface, her eyes snapped open to reveal two pairs of softly glowing blue orbs. Hands shooting out as the numbers got smaller in her head, Jaina pulled herself into the large pipe and activated her magical barrier just as the secondary blast—a wave of pure concussive force that would shatter through anything left standing from the initial explosion of arcane energy—surged outward.

With both the stone walls, the pipe, and her own arcane shield to protect her, Jaina was able to ‘ride out’ that blast of non-magical energy, but her mad dash wasn’t finished. Four seconds of the wave expanding out to her location was followed by a literal scramble to escape from the now structurally unsound pipe, as Jaina, in a crouch, hustled forward into the remains of the sanitation facility. As much as it hurt her to do so, she spun and tossed her staff through the pipe and into the river, knowing already that its weight would get it snagged on the detritus and rubble now littering the once fast-moving body of water.

Be back for you.

For now, she lifted a hand and channeled some fire. Even as she held the burning hand up near to her face, she finally started to doubt her ability to go through with this infiltration plan.

Beatrix wouldn’t hesitate. That woman wouldn’t hesitate in the face of an army charging her down.

Jaina sent a blast of fire over her own face that scalded her forehead, cheeks, and eyebrows. More than that, it charred her distinctive blonde and white locks enough to make her a little harder to detect from a wanted poster. Despite trying to channel her inner Beatrix, the wizard screamed and lost her balance, toppling sideways onto a pile of rubble.

By chance (or perhaps by design), a group of panicked workers stumbled across a young woman with burns on her face who had seemingly fainted after escaping the rubble.

“Get her up and get her out of her!” Someone shouted as other workers rushed to flee the collapsing sanitation structure.

 

[Beatrix III]

The city guard had forced Beatrix to the roof. They had offered her zero respite since she had massacred the guards at the gatehouse and killed Rebekah, who had apparently been the guard captain. Despite her blood magic keeping her on her feet, blood was seeping through the hand she held against the stab wound in her ribs. Every so often she had to stop and cough up blood. The knife Rebekah had driven into her abdomen had done some serious damage. She put it out of her mind as she scaled the tiled roof of one of the taller cottages.

“There she is!” She could hear in the distance.

An audible thud forced the mistress sent the mistress sliding down the opposite side of the roof towards the alley. An arrow had embedded itself in her back, right at the shoulder blade. Clenching her teeth, she positioned herself as she slid towards the edge of the roof. With a push of her thigh muscles, she launched herself from the roof and through a window on the top floor. Tumbling through the glass the Mistress barely made it to her feet as she crashed through what looked to be a bedroom. Falling briefly to the floor Beatrix noticed that she had interrupted two Meranians enjoying their night. They had stopped and pulled the sheets up in fear.

“Sorry to interrupt.” The mistress said, taking a syrette from her pouch and jamming it into her thigh.

“Have fun.” She said with a grin as she broke down their bedroom door, the shouts from the city guard getting closer.

Scaling down the stairs in the house Beatrix moved into the foyer as the city guard surrounded the building. Arrows pierced through the window forcing the blood mage to dive behind a table.

“Cease fire.” A stern male voice shouted.

“Beatrix…come out. You won’t be harmed.” He spoke.

No…

The mistress pulled up on the edge of the table and lifted herself onto her feet. Moving around the furniture piece she reached for the door and opened it. As she exited the building her eyes adjusted for the series of torches surrounding her. With a sigh she set her eyes upon the one and the only…Gavin Atrius.

“Hello Gavin.” She said, sounding defeated.

“You will address the Marshall with the respect he-“ A nearby guard shouted.

“Now now, Serjeant. She’s an old acquaintance. You couldn’t expect her to know my rank.”

Fuck

“Why have you killed my guard captain and infiltrated my city?” Gavin asked, stroking his beard.

Maybe he doesn’t know…

Time to punt

“I was actually looking…well…for you, Marshall. Can we speak in private?” The mistress asked.

“I’m sorry Beatrix. You’re a wanted war criminal. There isn’t anything you could possibly say to me that would let you leave this city.”

The mistress furrowed her brow and drew her longsword which caused various grunts and growls from the surrounding guards as they all drew their weapons as well.

“You never did know how to quit.” Marshall Atrius said, amused.

“I gave you this chance to come quietly. I won’t be able to protect you from torture if you go this route.”

Beatrix’s eyes lit up with their bright magical red color as she dropped into a stance and adjusted her footing. Inhaling deeply, she exhaled her breath slowly, calming her body. Lunging left with her blade a simultaneous blood clone lunged right, both women slicing into the guards in front of them. Impressed, Gavin drew his sword and backed up to let more of his guards into the fray. Beatrix and her clone carved their way through the ranks of the poorly trained city guard until Gavin decided to join the fray and decapitated her clone. Charging the mistress, she could do nothing to stop his blade from slicing her blade in two and carving its way through her left shoulder and down her breast. With a firm kick, Gavin sent the blood mage back against a wall where the arrow in her shoulder pushed through her body, the tip now protruding from the front.

She struggled to maintain her stance; her shattered sword held out in front of her ready to fight.

“Why do you struggle so?” The towering man in glittering plate mail said as he approached her.

Tell him now or you will die here.

“Because you’re…you’re heir to the throne…” Beatrix coughed up blood that spilled down her chin.

“Lodis. You’re the…Prince.”

Gavin stopped short of severing the Mistress’ arm from her body. A slow realization spread across his face, it was followed by a stern look as a plate covered fist met the woman’s jaw, knocking her out cold. She slid to the ground and fell over unconscious, blood spilling from her mouth.

“Take her to my chambers. Send for the doctor.” He ordered.

The city guard and soldiers surrounding him dare not question their Marshall and obeyed like good peons.

***​

Jaina awoke with a start, immediately wincing from various pains all over her body.

“Hey hey. Take it easy! Maria this one is waking up!” A nurse called.

Jaina slowly sat up in her cot, her robes had been cut open and bandaging had been applied to her ribs and most of her bosom. She put an arm across her abdomen and slid her feet to the floor.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Maria said as she approached.

“Be-Beatrix. Where…?” Jaina could barely form the words she was trying to say.

“You mean the wanted war criminal our Marshall captured? You have no reason to fear her anymore, honey.”

Jaina winced as she tried to stand but found that she could not and fell back onto her cot.

“Hey hey hey, you were banged up fairly good in the explosion. We have been pulling people out of the rubble for a few hours now. Why don’t me and the girls get you something to eat?” The matronly woman said.

Jaina took stock of the room for the first time and noticed that she sat in a room full of cots filled with injured civilians.

That she has caused.

Various women tended to the care of the wounded and hurt. A nearby woman brought the blond sorceress a leather flask of water and a chunk of bread. Jaina accepted the water graciously, the cool liquid soothing her dry throat. Taking a bite of the mediocre bread that she had been given the sorceress could only worry about what they had said.

Beatrix is in trouble.

Tears began to well in the woman’s eyes. The reality of situation she was in was beginning to set in. She needed information, but not while injured. Jaina only hoped that Steve was having more luck than she was.

 

[Android XVII]

Seventeen had barely managed to settle down and gather himself when he became acutely aware of just how little time he had to pull off the remainder of this operation. By this point, Jaina should have taken her cover, which meant she’d been ‘on ice’ for the duration of their time in Merania. That left the fate of the mission up to one ‘Stephen XVII Juunanagou’, clearly the most renown spy in all the land.

“Serjeant Calhoun!” A voice barked nearby as Seventeen twisted in the direction of the man stomping toward him. “What are you doing?”

It took the machine-hybrid a moment before he realized that he was technically Serjeant Calhoun. Adjusting his posture, Seventeen snapped off a quick salute. “Uh, hello… Sir?”

The man paused abruptly and scowled. “There somethin’ the matter with you, Calhoun?”

“Got hit in the noggin’, Sir!”

“By the might of Merania, Calhoun, you’re an idiot.”

Seventeen scowled as he twitched his finger and sent a pencil-thin beam of ki through the man’s throat. Whoever he was, the man clutched as his throat as blood started to sputter up through the clean wound.

“Help!” The cyborg screamed as he rushed forward to catch the dying man and tried waving to nearby soldiers. “He was struck by something, I don’t know what!”

As others rushed to the scene, Seventeen casually stood up and vanished behind the small crowd of soldier, yet before he was out of earshot, he heard something that added an unneeded level of urgency to the situation. “You hear about how Marshal Artrius singlehandedly defeated that assassin who killed the guard captain?”

“Yea, you know that sick fucking blood mage was behind all of this.”

Kai. Damn. It.

The cyborg dipped into a nearby store that had been left abandoned during the evacuation of the handful of city blocks that bordered where the bomb had detonated. Slowly closing the door and sliding the wooden mechanism that acted as its lock, Seventeen closed his eyes. With an emphasis on controlling his breathing, he focused his thoughts on the veritable sea of ki signatures that filled the city. Even here, where the bomb had gone off, the area was rife with people—both the guardsmen and a number of anxious people waiting for words about loved ones.

“Come on, I know Beatrix is …” As he expanded his thoughts, Seventeen picked up Jaina, who indeed lay in some sort of hospital ward with other victims. He could only imagine what discomfort that woman must feel sitting at ground zero of a catastrophe she had engineering, but again, she had insisted that she enter the city as well.

“Bingo.” Seventeen whispered as he found the blood mage. She was nearly a mile away, and while it was hard for him to get a bead on where she may be, he could tell she wasn’t alone. Perhaps a dungeon? Or a torture chamber?

With his disguise still in place, Seventeen teleported to within a hundred yards of Beatrix. When he stepped out of swirl of orbs, he found himself standing between a pair of guards relaxing against a shed.

“Holy shit … Calhoun? Where did you come from?”

Seventeen punched the first man in the groin and pivoted quickly to the second. Before that soldier could process the situation, his neck had been snapped, and his corpse had been shoved into the shed. The first guard let out a grunt as he threw himself at the cyborg, but whatever half-baked scheme the young man had ended horribly when he too had his neck broken after a short but fruitless struggle.

With the door shut on the pair of corpses, Seventeen stepped back and check his surroundings. “I need to stop doing that,” he muttered as he looked back at the shed. Putting the most recent hiccup behind him, the cybernetic warrior, following his loose bead on Beatrix’s location, manuevered his way to the front of the large stone structure that loomed overhead. From the outside, it seemed to be a barracks of some kind, but once his credentials got him through the front door, he realized that it also likely doubled as the headquarters of Merania’s garrison.

“Calhoun?” A voice remarked as Seventeen twitched and promptly clasped his hands together.

“Aye?” He asked as he slowly turned around to see a much younger man looking at him from a cot.

“They send you back here? I swore you had patrol duty over by where those explosives were detonated? It has been chaos all morning, my man.”

Seventeen-as-Calhoun nodded his head and lifted his sleeve to reveal some fake burn marks. “I got scalded pretty good,” he grunted. “Couldn’t hoist any rubble or dead bodies, you know?”

The young man laughed. “A lucky wound there, if I do say so myself. You’ll probably get to sit out all the salvage ops by the sanitation district.”

“Hope so!”

“Well you take it easy, Bud!”

“Aye!” Seventeen-as-Calhoun remarked before turning and hustling his way through the rest of the barracks. At this proximity, he could tell that Beatrix was injured in some way, because even her weird blood mage lifeforce seemed to be barely a blip. Fortunately, he found little others who paused him for idle chatter as he navigated up to the next level of the structure, and while Beatrix’s holding cell was behind a checkpoint, a quick teleportation from the nearby bathroom was all the cyborg needed to bypass that obstacle.

After rematerializing a few feet from his companion, Seventeen rushed over to the cot where Beatrix lay. The woman was battered and bore a variety of lacerations, but it already seemed like her body was naturally mending the damage. Or at least the machine-hybrid assumed that was the case as his attention shifted to the admittedly loose-fitting manacles around her wrists and ankles.

“How’d you get caught?” Seventeen whispered as the disguise rippled away and he reverted to his normal appearance. Glancing at his right hand, he took a moment to generate a short, almost dagger-sized ki saber and delicately sliced through one of the cuffs. “That wasn’t part of the plan, lady!” He added with a faint snicker before the door behind him suddenly burst open.

“Assassin!” A voice rasped as someone came rushing at Seventeen, who spun around just in time to be tackled into the wall by a man in full plate with long hair. Gauntleted fingers closed on his throat as the cyborg had his head bashed against the stone surface behind him. “Who sent you?”

Rather than answer, the machine-hybrid swung his face into the man’s mouth. That was enough to buy him the space he needed to get a knee up and further shove away his assailant. Stumbling forward, Seventeen received a swift punch that send him smashing against a mirror.

When the plate-bound warrior moved in for the kill, Seventeen’s palm popped open, and he fired a lethal blast of ki through the man’s chest.

By the time the guards came crashing through the door, they saw their Marshal wheezing on the ground next to a mangled, charred corpse.

“What happened, Marshal?”

Seventeen, who hadn’t yet pieced together what the fuck had just happened, winced at that question.

Marshal? Awww, fuck my life.

“I, uhhh,” for a fleeting moment, he contemplated killing the trio, but that would only muddy the situation even more. “I was attacked by this … fire mage,” he grumbled. “I was able to… reflect his magics back at him,” he gestured to the broken mirror. “Stupid mages.”

That comment made one of the soldiers laugh, and once he started, the other two relaxed. “Should we send for the doctors? The one you requested for the prisoner is almost here.”

Seventeen-as-Gavin glanced at Beatrix and winced again. Fuck.

“Yes, but give me some time with the prisoner,” he declared as he rose up slowly, his body not accustomed to the almost ceremonial heavy plate that the Marshal wore.

“Yes, Marshal!”

Once the room was empty, Seventeen, scowl on his face, turned to Beatrix and cracked her in the side of the face. “Wake up!”

The blood mage groaned as she slowly regained consciousness. “G-gavin?” She muttered as she turned to look at the charred corpse laying in the room. “What the fuck?”

“Yes, that’s Gavin,” Seventeen rasped as he returned to his natural appearance.

Beatrix groaned as she used the hand the cyborg had freed earlier to remove the rest of the manacles. “What the fuck did you do, Steve?”

“Well you didn’t tell me he was the fucking Marshal, Trix.” The machine-hybrid sassed back as he hooked the woman’s arm around his shoulders and helped hoist her back to her feet.

“I found out ten minutes ago when his men bludgeoned me and were about to execute me. I whispered to him his true lineage … wanted to buy time and see if I could win him to our cause by playing off some of our shared history.”

Seventeen glanced back to the still smoldering sack of meat and metal on the floor. “Well, I, uh, think your plan didn’t work.”

“You killed him!”

“Oi, he was gonna kill me!” Seventeen barked. “I’m sorry I couldn’t play on my shared history with him to ‘buy time’.”

Beatrix rolled her eyes, but before she could speak, there were footsteps again in the hallway. Before the door had opened, Seventeen had already shapechanged back into Gavin and coldcocked his companion in the side of the head, causing her to collapse back onto the cot.

After a knock, the guard poked his head into the room. “I’m sorry, Marshall, but I heard shouting in here.”

Seventeen-as-Gavin adjusted his plate armor. “Yes, the prisoner here got lippy,” he remarked as a seething Beatrix rubbed the side of her face. “All is well in here, you can go back to work.”

“You want help? I know she’s an old army friend but isn’t she also a fearsome assassin and blood magus?”

With a laugh, the cyborg lifted his perfectly shaped chin. “I’m the Marshall, and we’ve all seen that I can deal with out of control ladies like this one.”

The guard chuckled once more. “Of course, Sir. Excuse me, Sir.”

“Have a good day,” Seventeen remarked as he turned back to Beatrix, who bared her teeth and seemed poised to lunge off the cot. “Hey! I didn’t want to blow our cover.”

“I hate you.” She muttered before turning back to the corpse and grimacing. “We’re fucked.”

“Love you too,” the cyborg mumbled as he walked across the room and looked out the window. The sun was rising across the city, and the look of just how massive a place Merania was immediately made him feel like they were a few hundred square feet in over their heads.

“So, what now, my master strategist?”

Seventeen spun around, slipped off one of the plate gloves, and promptly hurtled it through a window. He then stepped up to Beatrix and smiled. “Punch me in the face and get going. I’ll organize a manhunt to find you, and we’ll meet up in the sanitation ward near San Sebastian’s. It’s where Jaina’s receiving medical care.”

“You had me at punch you,” Beatrix cackled before slamming her fist into the shapeshifted cyborg’s face. As the machine-hybrid crashed backwards, the blood magus was out through the window and down into the city streets.

 

[Beatrix III]

I need to find Proudmoore.

Beatrix slid down the side of the tower wall before pushing off with everything she had at the bottom. She landed gracefully on the roof of a nearby house, causing a few of the ceramic tiles to slide loose. Before they could even slide and fall to the ground the Mistress was gone, sprinting across the roof and hopping the gap to another building. She could sense Jainas’ life force. Her blood magic acted like a compass for her lover, and she was not sure why. It was a dull ache that guided the Mistress in the right direction.

Sliding on her thigh Beatrix descended to another gap between two buildings. Forming herself into a pencil she dropped to the alley below and landed gracefully in a four-point stance. Moving to the end of the alley she peered out into the bustling street. Rescue workers were still working to remove dead and injured people from the blast radius.

There she was.

Jaina was gripping a piece of bread whilst staring blankly at a pile of dead bodies. Beatrix carefully crossed the street. She wrapped an arm around the woman’s waist which made her jump. The blood mage pulled her back across the street and deep into the alley where she spun the sorceress around. Her eyes were red with tears. She was in shock.

“Jaina. Jaina…come back to me.” The Mistress said softly.

The blonde woman moved her eyes to her lover at the sound of her name but said nothing. Fresh tears welled up in her eyes and streamed down her face. Beatrix knelt her down behind a stack of crates and took hold of her lovers’ face. Using her thumb, the Mistress wiped the tears away. At the touch of the blood mage Jaina broke down and collapsed into Beatrix’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

“Hey…It…It’ll be okay.”

Beatrix hugged Jaina tight and kissed her forehead while rubbing her back. She felt immense guilt for having put her lover through this. Something she had never felt before. Jaina had been there for her through everything. Through Vladimir dying. Through her drunkenness. Through every problem that Beatrix had faced. She had Jaina by her side taking care of her and all the Mistress did was abuse her love and take advantage of it for sex. With a sigh Beatrix rested her chin on Jaina’s head as she cried into her lovers’ arms.

“I’m so sorry, my love. This was too much to ask of you. This isn’t who you are.” The blood mage said, kissing Jaina’s head again.

She rested her cheek against the woman’s singed hair and sighed, holding her tightly. Jaina was broken. The idea of killing so many innocent people had shattered her. She was not an evil person. She tolerated Beatrix’s tactics because she loved the blood mage with all her heart and in return Beatrix barely reciprocated it. It was in this moment with the woman who, daily, gave everything she had to love her that Beatrix realized how much she genuinely loved Proudmoore. She could not imagine a life without the sorceress.

“I…killed all those people.” Jaina sobbed, muffled by Beatrix’s embrace.

This only made the blood mage hug her tighter, her hand brushing the woman’s hair.

“Don’t blame this on yourself. You did nothing wrong. This is my fault. I asked too much of you. I am so sorry, Jaina. You’ve been here for me through thick and thin and I’ve abused you every step of the way.”

Beatrix had no idea where this clarity was coming from. Something about seeing Jaina absolutely broken just…broke her heart. Something she didn’t even know she had anymore. The Mistress thought she had lost her ability to love anything as much as she loved Vladimir, but here she was loving someone possibly even more than her late husband.

“I just hope one day you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me for putting you through this. I love you with all my heart Jaina Proudmoore.” Beatrix said, her lips against the woman’s head.

The sorceress looked up at her lover, tears still running down her face. She looked shocked. Closing her eyes as fresh tears ran down her cheeks, she pressed her lips to Beatrix’s and gave her a loving kiss before wrapping her arms around the woman and burying her head into the Mistress’ shoulder to sob.

“I’m a monster, Beatrix. I’m a fucking monster.” Her words were muffled, but the blood mage could understand.

“No. No you’re not Jaina. I am the monster. I take and take and take from you.” The Mistress kissed her head again.

Beatrix felt abhorrent about herself. She sighed and ran her fingers through Proudmoore’s hair again. She had finally grieved enough over her dead husband. She felt terrible, but she felt as if a great weight had lifted off her shoulders at the realization that the woman burying her face into her arms was the love of her life.

“Listen to me Jaina. I love you more than anything. This is my fault. Those people are dead because of me. You are innocent in this.” She spoke.

Placing a finger to Jaina’s chin she lifted the woman’s head so she could look her in the eyes.

“I promise it’s not your fault. I promise to do better by you. I’m certainly not perfect, but you deserve so much better than me.”

The sorceress planted another soft kiss to Beatrix’s lips.

“You’re the one I want.” She whispered.

The blood mage embraced Jaina even further, placing her head on her shoulder and a hand to the back of her head.

“I’m never going to cause you this much pain again. By my life I swear it.” The Mistress whispered, kissing Proudmoore’s cheek.

“Now c’mon, my love. Seventeen is waiting for us. We have a plan. I’ll carry you.”

Jaina nodded, pulling away slightly and wiping the tears from her eyes. She looked a lot better than before. Beatrix got to her feet and scooped the sorceress up, draping her across her arms like a princess.

She’s my princess.

Moving to the end of the ally, Jaina buried her head in Beatrix’s neck as the blood mage slipped into the crowd of people carrying injured, making their way to the meeting point Steven had established.

 

[Android XVII]

“Find the blood magus behind these heinous attacks!” Seventeen-as-Gavin barked before slamming his gauntleted fist down onto the wooden table that housed a map of the central city of Merania. “That Lodian witch must not be allowed to walk free,” he conveniently left out the part of the story where ‘that witch’ had supposedly broke free of her restraints, KO’d him, and slipped down a third-floor window undetected. In the heat of the moment, people weren’t really asking these type of questions, as the mood throughout Merania was still one of fervent panic and unrest.

A voice spoke out next to the cyborg. “Marshal, you should seek shelter at the castle. There’s no telling how deep this conspiracy may or may not go.”

Seventeen-as-Gavin shook his head. “Nay, brave comrade,” he decreed. “I will not – I cannot – rest until this ne’er-do-well is apprehended and put back into chains.

“You are the bravest of them all, Marshal!” The man declared as he snapped off a quick salute and raced off to whatever ancillary role he was supposed to play in his operation. At this point, Seventeen had already forgotten eighty percent of what he’d rambled to the assortment of serjeants and lieutenants. All he’d known is that he’d sent them in every direction but where Beatrix and Jaina would be.

“Time to get the fuuuuck out of here,” Seventeen spoke under his breath as he took one last look at the map and headed back for Gavin’s private quarters.

Once behind the door, the cyborg made for the small desk that would have served as his disguise’s work station in happier, less dead, times. Without paying much heed, Seventeen quickly rolled up the stack of documents and slid them into a leather-capped cylinder for transport. If this guy was the Marshal of this place, this crap he had likely would hold some value to the King of Lodis. More than that, it was possible that Gavin might even have had correspondence with some of the turncoats still serving in Lodis.

“Anything else?” Seventeen asked as he walked over to the closet and threw open the doors. Inside, an assortment of various platemail bits and pieces were arrayed in a surprisingly modern fashion. Chain shirts and girdles hung in perfect repose, but aside from the meticulous amount of detail Gavin paid to his personal protective equipment, there was nothing in here of value except…

“Hello.” The machine-hybrid spoke breathily as he reached into the corner of the closet and pulled out a bejeweled short sword. As he looked over the blade, he noticed that some of the symbols etched along the flat of the blade were distinctly Lodian effigies. “Can’t hurt to bring you with,” Seventeen muttered as he opened a footlocker and retrieved a second scabbard to hook around his waist.

***​

Jaina, in part with her role in this whole scheme, seemed in both a physical and mental state of disarray, even at a distance. The woman had scalded herself to blend into the injured, because their initial plan had been less a frenetic scamper through this city and something closer to an actual string of intelligent ideas. Beneath the second-degree burns and scalded hair, the woman’s expression bore a much deeper level of distress.

All the intelligence and magical aptitude in the world doesn’t prepare you to be a killer, even one who acts out of necessity. She was held in Beatrix’s arms, and Seventeen made certain to dip inside of a nearby building, drop his disguise as a city guard, and reemerge in front of them as his normal self.

Even so, Beatrix jumped, eliciting a week yelp from her barely conscious companion. “Where the fuck have you been?” The blood magus whispered as she stepped back into the shadows of a partially crumbled building.

“Taking care of business,” Seventeen rasped as he pulled out the bejeweled sword. Initially, Beatrix recoiled at the sound of the steel scraping as it exited the scabbard. After today was over, there wasn’t a single member in the trio who could go without some time removed from the shady business of high-stakes espionage. “It’s got some type of Lodian symbols on it, doesn’t it?” He whispered as he held it up for Beatrix to see.

The woman scowled. “Do I look like a fucking scholar to you?”

A weak whisper chimed in before a scowling Seventeen could verbally retaliate.

“Those markings are associated with House Duchenne,” Jaina muttered. “An unlanded barony that was closely associated with the regnal court before the death of its last baroness. She died from unknown causes without issue, but …” Jaina paused to sputter and wheeze for a few moments before continuing. “If you believe the court gossip from nearly forty years ago, she was having an affair with the King and died during childbirth.”

“So, you think this lady was Gavin’s mother?”

Jaina, who had closed her eyes and drifted back into her semi-comatose state, offered no response, but even to Seventeen and Beatrix, the point had sunk in.

“We need to get out of here,” Seventeen replied as he closed his eyes and tried to picture the maps. “Our best bet would be to come out the way he came in. The sanitation plant itself. You know, the place where they sent all the waste and then they—”

“Yes, I remember the shit disposal building,” Beatrix groaned. “I’m not an idiot. Won’t there be guards?”

“Gavin shifted the guards closer to the royal districts to protect the queen from a vile blood mage,” Seventeen answered with a slick smile as the two started to sprint as carefully as they could down the partially cleared sidewalk.

As predicted, the ‘sanitation plant’ was mostly deprived of life. Even the construction crews had been withdrawn from the reason for fears that nearby buildings might still collapse following the explosion. The trio, with Jaina clutched close to Beatrix’s bosom, wove their way to the rear of the building and paused a few feet above the river bend.

Jaina, voice still a croak, simply lifted a finger and pointed a few dozen feet down river from their position.

“What is it?” Beatrix cooed as she followed her companion’s gesture and tried to spot something. She was about to give up when a very loud ‘Ah-ha!’ from Seventeen nearly jolted her off the ledge and into the river. Before she could turn and verbally lambast him, the machine-hybrid threw out his hand, and a beat later, Jaina’s staff came erupting out of the water and into his hand.

“You imbedded that sliver of katchin in there,” he muttered as he turned to look at Jaina, who wore a faint smile on her face despite not opening her eyes. Glancing up to Beatrix, he used the staff to make a sweeping gesture in front of them. “Ladies first.”

***​

Ten hours later, the trio had hunkered down for a respite, using one of the handful of ‘safe spots’ they’d tagged on their trip over from Lodis.

“What happens when we get back to Lodis?” Beatrix muttered. While the woman had Jaina’s head in her lap, the question was very obviously directed at Seventeen, who stood on the other side of a partially concealed campfire.

“What do you mean?” He asked as the blood mage slowly brushed her companion’s burnt hair.

Beatrix suddenly glanced up from Jaina, and with a slight tilt to her head, she outlined the obvious. “Gavin’s dead.”

Seventeen shook his head. “Nah. Is there a body?”

The woman blinked a few times. “Please tell me you’re not going where I think you’re going.”

By the time he answered, Seventeen had already slipped on his Gavin disguise. “Do you have any better ideas to ensure that old king’s throne doesn’t disintegrate the moment he croaks?”

“So what happened to ‘Steve’ then?” Beatrix asked.

“He died the most heroic death imaginable,” Seventeen replied. “He obviously rescued, let’s say… thirty virgins from a burning building.”

“Mhm.”

“Oh!” Seventeen replied with enough ‘umph’ to startle Beatrix. “And then he went back inside to rescue a puppy… no, three puppies! Then he died of like, soot in his lungs or however those people die.”

“You sure you don’t want to have him single-handedly curing a disease or saving and entire village of beautiful young women from bandits?”

The cybernetic warrior chewed on his lower lip for a few moments. “It’s a good idea, but I think it might be a little unbelievable.”

Beatrix rolled her eyes. “You are the worst spy I’ve ever met.”

Seventeen stuck his tongue out at the woman before stating the obvious. “You got captured, Lady! I’m actually the best spy here… that’s just facts.”

Try her hardest, Beatrix couldn’t help but flash a faint smile as she shook her head. “We need to move out shortly if we want to be back in Lodis before nightfall.”

“Sounds good,” Seventeen replied as his appearance shifted back to his own.

 

[Beatrix III]

They had finally made it back to Lodis and separated into their respective dormitories. Jaina had become catatonic. In the few weeks that the trio had spent decompressing in Lodis, Beatrix had to take care of her lovers every need. From bathing her, feeding her, to clothing her. Jaina spent most of her time sleeping and crying. Beatrix did her best to comfort the sorceress, but she did not know what to say or do anymore. Their mission had been a failure and she had put Jaina through such a traumatic experience. The blonde sorceress would barely look at Beatrix anymore. They shared a bed, but Jaina had started keeping to one side, crying throughout the night. Beatrix, unable to get through to her lover, turned to alcohol to cope with the fact that she had hurt Jaina so badly. Beatrix would never admit it, but she genuinely feared that she would lose Proudmoore. At the tail end of the second week Jaina would not even let Beatrix touch her anymore. The sorceress had regained enough of her function that she could take care of herself without her lover’s aid. It was not until one day Beatrix came back to their room slightly drunk did things finally come to a head.

Jaina was in her night clothes and standing by the window.

“Why do you love me?” She asked, not turning around.

“What?” Beatrix said, slurring her words slightly.

“You heard me. Answer the question.”

Beatrix leaned back against the door and stared at Jaina who still refused to turn around.

“Because I just…I just do.” The redhead replied, unsure of what to think.

“You say you love me and yet you treat me like some object you get to use. I am just this tool you use in your machinations.” Jaina had turned her head to face Beatrix, tears were coming down her cheeks.

“Jaina…” Beatrix went to comfort her, a hand reaching for her shoulder.

“Don’t touch me!” Jaina shrieked, pulling away. “Stay where you are!”

Beatrix reeled back and furrowed her brow.

“I get it, blondie. I’m the monster here. Do what you need to do.” Beatrix spat as she left the room, slamming the door.

She rested against the outside of their door, sighing deeply. She could hear Jaina break down and sob. Clenching her jaw, the blood mage left the door behind and proceeded out into the pouring rain. A fine mist floated up away from Beatrix as her blood magic sobered her up. Her irises began to glow with their red hue as she swung her fist at a stone fence post, her hand blowing through it like the material were made of glass. Making her way to the stable the blood mage tugged on the reigns to her horse and dragged him from his comfortable and dry enclosure. Pushing him into the street she mounted him bareback and kicked into his sides. The horses’ eyes lit up with the same red glow as her own irises before rearing back and galloping through city towards the gate. The woman clenched her jaw and yelled into the storm with frustration as Slepinir reached full gallop.

Another week went by. Jaina had finally gotten the courage to leave her room. She hadn’t heard from Beatrix since their fight. While she was terribly upset with her and she questioned whether she should still love her, she didn’t want anything bad to happen to her. She didn’t want Beatrix to die. So many people would love to pike the Mistress’ head on their wall. Jaina felt herself worrying and she had to force herself to stop. Beatrix had been awful to her. She had been nothing but an object and a tool to get her way. Jaina felt mortified. She had killed so many people in an attack on the Meranian capital that had been for nothing because Steven had killed their target.

She had forgiven him.

A soft knock fell upon the door to Seventeen’s room. Jaina straightened her robes and tried to make herself feel presentable. She had not seen or spoken to Stephen in three weeks. The door opened and she smiled at the sight of Gavin.

“Jaina. What can I do for you?” He asked.

“Have you seen Beatrix?” She asked, holding back tears the best she could.

He waived her in and closed the door behind her, locking it. Reverting his appearance, he motioned to a chair and sat down across from her. Seventeen could tell that Jaina was struggling extremely hard to keep herself together. It was very apparent.

“I have asked everyone I can find. I have checked all of the bars.”

“Did something happen?” He asked.

“We had a fight. I’m unsure whether or not I should love her anymore, but I haven’t heard from her in just over a week.” She said, emotion rippling through her voice.

“That reminds me. I am sorry we used you for that bomb. I should have remembered what you told me about your white hair.” Seventeen said.

Jaina ran her hand down the usual braid she put her hair into, examining her white hair.

“I forgive you, Stephen. You haven’t treated me poorly.” She said, putting a hand to her mouth.

The dam broke and a few tears rushed down her cheeks.

“I hate her for how she treated me, but I don’t want her to be dead.” She said, crying softly.

Please be okay.

“You hate her? I know your relationship was chaotic, but hate is a pretty strong word Jaina.”

She nodded, unable to speak through her emotion.

“Look. I’m sure she’s fine. We both know that woman can survive nearly anything.” He assured.

“You don’t know her history, Stephen. She’s wanted by the Arcadian Mage’s Guild for practicing blood magic. They have mage hunters which render her abilities useless. One managed to get to her before and he was a rookie compared to some of the more senior members.” She explained through tears.

“If…If they get their hands on her she’ll be executed in the main square of the Capital. Her body will be burned and disposed of.” She took a moment to compose herself.

“And that’s after they’re done torturing her.”

Jaina took out a little package of tissues and dabbed at her eyes, her eyeliner was running down her face.

He would know what to do.

 

[Android XVII]

A few weeks ago, the trio had stumbled into Lodis in virtually the dead of night. While they (meaning the two non-catatonic members of the group) had debated and attempted to arrive at dawn, it became readily apparent that neither had much mastery of the vast forests and shrublands that stood between Lodis and Merania.

‘A Jaina thing’ was what Seventeen had called it in his head, understanding well that neither he nor the redheaded blood magus really had the finer grasp of the little things like ‘study the landscape well enough to navigate without need of maps or charts’. That type of stuff apparently fell wholly under the purview of the virtually comatose wizard.

Despite neither one of them having the fine skills to figure it out, the pair arrived at Lodis nearly twenty hours after they had intended to do so. At the gates, Seventeen-as-Gavin had simply barked at the keep guards until they relented and allowed them passage. The three had barely passed through the portcullis when they were swarmed by armed guards, and while she had other responses that wanted to immediately kick in at the sight of all the swords inches from her neck, Beatrix kept her calm and flashed the small trinket secured tightly around Jaina’s wrist—a royal emblem from King Reynard.

“This injured woman and I work for your liege,” she grumbled. “You will take the three of us to him. It is urgent.”

At first, Seventeen was certain they’d have to manhandle these guards before they’d ever let them pass, but one of the sergeants, recognizing Beatrix as—‘that woman who works for the king and drinks more beer than anyone I’ve known’—granted them an armed escort from the gates through to the castle’s private quarters, where the old king was shockingly still awake.

“Countess Beatrix,” King Reynard muttered as he ushered the three of them into the room and bid thanks and adieu to the guards. Once the door was closed, the king looked at what the night had dragged back to him—an errant yet entirely sober Beatrix Zulenka, a comatose and scalded Jaina Proudmoore, and a man in plate armor with the ceremonial colors of Merania. “What’s happened? Where’s Count Stephen? And what has befallen Countess Proudmoore?”

Beatrix, who took a moment to lay the unconscious Jaina onto a chaise in the corner of the king’s private rooms, let out a long sigh. “To her? Nothing that isn’t my fault, more or less,” before the wizened monarch could probe into that, the blood mage turned away from her love and pointed over to Seventeen-as-Gavin. “Show him the sword.”

Nodding his head, the guised cyborg held up both palms to the king before he reached down to his belt to retrieve the sword. “This was my mothers,” he replied as he handed the blade to the king, handle-first. “I believe that you… ‘knew’ her many years ago.”

King Reynard, despite his weakened vision, still had enough clarity to recognize the etchings and symbols that adorned the sword. He even cracked a faint smile. “I was a younger, more impulsive man back then. My wife and I were both married when we were far too young and far too immature. That first decade and a half of marriage was… volatile. Teenagers probably shouldn’t be wed.”

The blood mage opened her mouth to say something snide, but the tiny, metaphorical Jaina on her shoulder told her to shut her trap.

King Reynard extended the blade back toward Seventeen-as-Gavin. “So that makes you…”

“Illegitimate son,” the cyborg remarked as he sheathed the sword.

“And you serve Merania?”

“Served, yes. I was their Marshall,” the man gestured to the satchel that Beatrix had carried, and the tossed it over to him. “You should know that we’ve had extensive communications with a number of your landed and unlanded nobility, King. You are in a den of vipers.”

At that, the old King laughed softly. “Yes, I’ve had this conversation with the two Countesses once or twice, but I must ask…” he paused to look back to Beatrix. “Where is Count Stephen.”

Before Beatrix could open her mouth, she was interrupted by Seventeen-as-Gavin. “Oh, he’s me.”

That comment drew the attention of both king and blood mage back to the cyborg, who gestured to the plain, golden orb earrings that Beatrix was certain he hadn’t been wearing three seconds ago. “Some terrorists set off a bomb in Merania. Stephen and Jaina risk their lives to save at least three dozen orphans from the orphan—” Beatrix stamped her foot on the ground. “Ere, yes, but they were both hurt. The count was dying when I dragged his heroic body from the rubble. I tried to get the best medical care for him, but it wouldn’t reverse the damage. He said this,” Seventeen-as-Gavin tapped one of the earrings. “Would save him. Preserve his spirit in my broad, handsome bulk… or something, he didn’t explain it well. I think it’s technology from his home world.”

The old King furrowed his brow. “Stephen’s soul resides… within you?”

A nod in response. “Yea, I think it’s probably best not to think too much about it. The process gave me all his super awesome powers,” Seventeen-as-Gavin conjured a disk of swirling ki. “‘Allow me to do more good in this world, Handsome Gavin’ … or something. He was kind of loopy.”

“Fascinating,” the king replied as he took a step closer to look at one of the earrings. “May his spirit watch over us.”

“One hundred percent,” Seventeen-as-Gavin replied as he caught a sideways glance of Beatrix’s eyes trying not to roll out of her skull.

Changing the subject slightly, King Reynard turned to Beatrix. “We will get her the finest care. I will ensure whoever comes within six feet of her is royal to the throne,” he then shifted his focus back to Gavin. “You and I will meet in the coming days to go over these Meranian documents. We will purge everyone with the vaguest hint of disloyalty, and that will hopefully drive the others deep into the underground.”

“Will that stop the intrigue?” Beatrix inquired.

The king sneered. “Likely not, but the presence of a male heir to the throne will help ensure that public support does not wane from me.”

Seventeen-as-Gavin nodded his head before the sentence actually clicked for him. “Oh, shit, that’s me, isn’t it?”

Beatrix’s right eye twitched enough that she had to twist away from the king and clap a hand over her face.

***​

Seventeen sighed as he made for his desk. “You didn’t notice the documents were gone, did you?” He spoke as he rifled through the contents of one of the drawers.

Jaina, still partially lost in thought and wracked by nerves, tilted her head in his direction. “What do you mean?”

The cyborg, whose features had reverted to his own once Jaina had closed the door and slid the bolt into place, smiled as he tossed the musty little book over to the wizard. “That’s the necromancer’s little black book… don’t you remember taking it from her lair? That and a few other things from her personal effects,” Seventeen glanced at the necklace in the drawer—that particular piece was his trophy from that little encounter.

“Yes, but there was some sort of cipher involved. I couldn’t fully discern it before we were neck-deep in the court intrigues and midnight operations.”

“Well, I guess you got enough solved, because Beatrix figured out what was left… either that or she translated what she could and read between the lines,” Seventeen handed her a few sheets of parchment with the blood mage’s distinctly terrible penmanship scrawled all over them.

Jaina’s eyes scoured over the handful of raggedy papers for a few moments before glanced back up at Seventeen. While he wanted to ask her how the hell she could read that quickly, he decided to save that conversation for another time.

“Based on Beatrix’s partial translations, it appears that the Councilwoman had a far-reaching network of liaisons and connections, even into the highest circles of Zamara. Her descriptions of some of her confidants are even in line with some of that bar gossip about the cultists who were sending demons to the Idrisids. How long have you had these papers?”

Seventeen furrowed his brow. “She left them wrapped up in a packet with a note that said not to open them unless I didn’t hear from her for a few months. I think it’s possible she went to investigate this on her own.”

“Why?” Jaina declared.

Now it was the cyborg’s time to scowl. “Listen, Jaina, you just got done pulling a full-180 from saying you likely hated this woman to crying over her well-being. Pick a fucking lane, Sister, before you try and sass me about following my friend’s wishes.”

That took some of the wind out of Jaina’s sails, and after a pregnant pause, she simply nodded her head. “I’m going to go pack my bags.”

“Where are you going?” Seventeen called as the woman made for the door.

Without turning around, Jaina shot back with a response as she fumbled with the bolt. “Zamara. Like I said, I don’t wish her dead, and if that’s where she is, I’m going to find her and get her back to safety.”

“The place that hates all of us?” As soon as the sentence had been spoken into life, the cyborg immediately scowled. “Man, I guess that’s almost everywhere we go on this rock, isn’t it?”

He looked up only to see that Jaina had already left.

“Son of a bitch.”