Malefactor Redux

[Gildarts]

Gildarts, noble and mighty prime, left Ambrosia yet again. He had waved farewell and again traveled down the path less taken. It spiraled into the many trails of the forest, and the rich scents of the earth enlivened his senses.

He wondered if the plague that had once taken the edge of the forest had been cured. Much time seemed to have passed since his last venture here, but it was always refreshing to walk through the forest and be reminded of his many travels, and that of home.

In Ambrosia, they had informed him of a creature that was wreaking havoc and chaos among the rest of the Tangled Green. Gildarts decided he was the best option to go out and stop it. Molly had been reluctant to see him go, but Gildarts was not the type to stay where he did not feel needed. Out there, he had thought, beyond the safety of smiles and family, there is glory when one faces fear, and death when one battles to their last drop of blood.

Out there, was where Gildarts belonged.

Though he had mentioned to the young girl, that he would stop by again on his return, if it was formidable to him. He had also promised to stay in touch, but there was a nagging in the back of his mind on this promise, for he had felt Molly’s definition of this was quite different than his own. Still, he let the tickling of worry pass through his mind smoothly, as he continued on.

Dusk settled into the cracks and crevices of the many branches of the green leaves above, meanwhile darkness grew out of the sudden shadow of night and leapt to overcome the very path in which he stepped. Luckily he did not have to be a cat like Piqui to see in the dark, for the little pebbles lining the path began to glow bright blue as the first star emerged in the night sky.

Piqui slept dormant in his rucksack as Gildarts traversed the land, hoping to find someone who could point him in the general direction of where he was going, because, well, iconically and ironically, the oblivious prime didn’t have a clue. A soft hum came out of the exceed’s nose as she snored. He remembered Molly’s reaction to the kitten that was from his home realm too, and a sentimental grin broke out on his scruffy cheeks.

Not much rattled on in Gildarts’ head as he had traveled across his world at home, and not much had changed. Now that the moon had risen, beaming its beautiful rays on the supple leaves as a sheen of light bounced beautifully off of them. The Fairytail wizard’s eyes softened at this, as he drank in the crisping air. The crickets had started to sing and play in their mini symphonies all while enchanting the other nocturnal creatures of the forest into the tenderness of their lulling hum.

Gildarts remembered the many exotic creatures he had encountered on his last journey through this verse, and kept a watchful eye out for anything haunting within the shadow of his very footsteps. His posture was straight, and well aligned, and he noted the slight chaffing he felt in his shoulder, probably due to the new weights he had applied to his inorganic appendage. Behind, carrying in a gentle flow by his swift pace was his cape, black and flowing as the very night he was submerged in.

Wind carried the whispers of many rumors and lingered close to his ear. Stories washed over the land, carried by word of mouth and texts in the Dataverse. Stories of the orgosynth. Great monster that dwelled in both ghastly form and grew on the mind like a creature straight out of nightmares. To Gildarts, no one deserved to be hunted by such a beast, creature, or whatever form it chose to take. Innocent people like those he had left in Ambrosia did not deserve the heartache that he had endured again and again for reasons he had long since forgotten.

But the fact remained, he had been given a task, and it was up to him to stop this before it got out of hand. Gildarts rarely gathered irrelevant information when he went off on a mission, but it was not to his knowledge that the orgosynth had been closer to him than he knew. During Dante’s Abyss, when he was fighting on that island, the monster was inhabiting someone there too. It had given its host power in exchange for a gamble that would some day shake out in the creature’s favor.

A lantern beamed towards him, a few feet in front of his path. Gildarts suddenly halted, the motion that was sure to stir the resting cat, and the prime responded to the voice that called out, “Who goes there?”

“Gildarts,” his gruff voice sounded powerfully through the night air, “Of Ambrosia, and Fairytail.” he listed his guilds, in hopes that one of the names be recognized by the man who held the lantern high, as though to ward off evil spirits.

“Oh!” the voice seemed to recognize one of them, and the lantern was brought down to below the level of each of their faces, “Ambrosia you say? Oh, I apologize for the lantern in yer face, these are dark times, dark times indeed.”

Gildarts nodded his acknowledgement to the old man, whose skin had been revealed in wrinkles which were cast in longer lines due to the way the flickering light happened to fall. The prime remained stoic for a moment, casting an air of charisma throughout the little cove they stood in. The man struck him as a little odd, if times were so dark, then why would he risk going out at night? It was a question worth asking, and so he did, “It’s not safe out here alone at night, where are you from? Do you need an escort home?”

“Ah thank you for your kindness,” he turned his head, revealing a sharpened ear, “But I am a night elf, this is when we thrive. As for this,” the elf shook the lamp, “My eyesight isn’t what it used to be, he-he! However, I would like to mention you strike me as a bit of peculiar. For you, yourself are alone out here, and I do not believe I have seen you around these parts before. I would hate for you to get lost.”

“I see, but I am in no way lost, you see, I’m searching for the truth and location of a certain creature that has been causing problems in this verse,” Gildarts deemed the elf worthy, and hoped that his new friend could shed some light on the situation, “But you see, it isn’t the kind of thing you’d usually see in-”

The elf hushed him, “Shhh! Do you know that the darkness does not like to it when you speak of its enemies? Come, come with me, inside, we shall talk where it is safer.”

Gildarts and Piqui, who had now arisen from her nap as they were led indoors. The night-elf seemed to live on the edge of his village, he preferred to be nearest to the trees and savored the night air, while his people lived in and among the trees, some even swinging from hammocks and crossing bridges of branches high above. The old elf was not as nimble as he used to be, he explained, and lead them inside an old, hollowed out and withering tree.

He left the lamp aglow and set it in the corner of the room, and closed the door behind his guests. “Oh and who is this little ball of sunshine!”

Piqui sneezed softly and rubbed her eyes with a paw, trying to wash the blurry shapes away. “I’m.. Piqui...” her voice muffled, and the night elf became both startled and delighted.

“Oh she speaks! How interesting, for she is not native to our tongue...” The elf looked up to Gildarts, as though for an explanation, but was given none, “I still get amazed when I meet creatures in the Omniverse who are from all over the galaxy and many different worlds. Oh! I forgot to introduce myself, my name is Eldren. I’m an elder here, but, like I said, my eyesight is failing me so much I only really keep the scrolls now. Y’see, night elves can see in the dark.”

The elf offered a smile that crawled up his rosy cheeks, while Gildarts nodded in noble acknowledgement, “It is nice to meet you Eldren,” the depth to Gildarts voice came off as genuine sincerity to the elf, “I’ve come across the forest in search of the creature that is said to be terrorizing the towns.”

The elf’s expression suddenly grew grim, while the flicker of the freshly lit candles of the room animated the lines on his face, his eyes danced as he spoke, “Yes, and it was here. Within our very village. It possessed our very best! The son of our village’s chief. He was...”

The old man had choked up, Gildarts felt his brow compress with compassion as his eyes grew concerned, it sounded as though... “The creature killed him. From within, that’s the way it works. He started to go mad, said he was hearing whisperings. Then, he’d have violent fits, as though outraged, in his eyes there was nothing but fire, and our doctor said she could not find the herbs to cure him, for they did not exist within these realms. Even a prime may have had trouble saving him. We are still mourning his death, dear Gildarts, I hope you will excuse my hushed voice. Not to mention... There is another thing.. On the day of his death, the creature sprung forth, as though shedding the skin of our beloved brother, tossed away as though his use to the creature had expired! Oh it was dreadful, truly and simply dreadful. Gildarts, you’re a prime, right? You’ll do something about it, won’t you?”

The elf’s eyes pleaded with the same desperation of his voice, and Gildarts bowed his head, “I will do what I can. I’m doing this for Ambrosia’s protection, but from the sound of it, Ambrosia is not alone. The entire Tangled Green is at this being’s mercy.”

“Aye, Gildarts, it is pivotal that you fulfill that vow, I will never forget your face. If you do not, then I will always remember the lie that comes with your name.” Eldren of the Elves took their promises very seriously. For them, it was an act of betrayal to go back on their word. They would rather die than dishonor the code they lived for. “It is now that I finish telling you what happened to the boy, you see in his final moments, he could not control himself. The madness in his eyes grew explosive with power, power he himself could not manage. Nor could his body take it. You see, some monsters seek prey, and other monsters, villains, if you will, seek vengeance, power, and unending war. So they do not hesitate to wage it, to it, the casualties mean nothing.”

The elf spoke around the event with a riddle. One that Gildarts quickly solved. “There are seven candles lit. They’ve been burning for a few days now. That is the number of the people he killed before your people were forced to put an end to the killing.”

“Yes,” the withered voice said slowly, as his eyes caught with tears and his voice broke with sorrow, “His own mother leapt out in front of the arrows to save his life, her last words claimed that we should not kill him, he couldn’t control his actions, and that he was not himself.”

Silence hung heavier than the humidity in the air. The old man slouched in his chair as his eyes made their way over to the candles of vigil. All seven were lit, but Gildarts had a feeling he was thinking about the last woman who had been slain. She had died nobly, and for her son. Depriving the leader of the village of not just his son, but his wife, on that day.

Gildarts extended his organic hand and placed it on Eldren’s shoulder, “You are a friend. Death is not something that will be forgotten, but is a memory with hold in our hearts forever. What we do with this memory, gives them an opportunity to live on within us. I am no stranger to death, but it has always been my choice, to walk on the side of life.”

[Gildarts]

Gildarts departed from the village, as Eldren waved his farewell to the prime. Gildarts left the grief-stricken village with new purpose, and new direction, as Eldren had told the prime where the creature had been suspect to go next.

A village of Ogres.

The directions the elf had given him were simple enough: “Follow the winding path until you reach the giant rock, then knock on the rock three times. There, you will encounter a guard. He will ask your name, and possibly even test you by asking you a riddle. Be prepared for this, for Ogres are temperamental creatures and can often be very distraught, and are easily angered. But you’ll be fine, I’m sure of it.” the elf had said.

Just like that, there was the rock, blocking his stone-lit path. It smoldered in the blue light as though it were lit with fire, as though it were surging with life. Gildarts looked around, sensing in his keen instinct the onset of an ambush, and he slowly brought his hand up to the rock and knocked three times.

“Knock, knock, knock...”

Suddenly the rock exploded into bits and pieces of broken rubble that flew in every direction and splattered against his face. One nearly missed his eye as his cheek was nicked by the sharp-edge of the stone. Gildarts hadn’t realized it, but the darkness of the night had set him on edge, an edge that had caused him to unknowingly release his energy on the rock, instead of an attack he thought was being waged on him, the orc guards thought the same on their end.

They had been standing near and behind the cover of the large boulder, and when they suddenly heard the knock they knew so well, they began to turn toward it, spears, rocks, and clubs in hand.  It burst back in their faces, leaving them confounded.

“ATTACK!” one shouted, and the bumbling beasts charged forward.

The fall of rocks from overhead battered the two orcs, and one mage. The two ogres grunted and shielded their heads and eyes, thinking it was an arial attack, though a few of the rocks hit home and the ogres’ eyes clouded with stars. Meanwhile, Gildarts’ magic managed to crackle and disintegrate the rocks in the air, as an aura around his shoulders.

The ogres, out of the corner of their smallish eyes, compared to their flat, squished-looking face, saw the Prime’s magic, and were immediately mystified. One grunted, “You’re a wizard!”

Gildarts nodded as if to say, “I know.”

The other ogre, much shorter, called to the tall one saying, “Hey Fred, iffin’ ‘e is magic ten these are useless!”

George threw his club down and then scowled at Gildarts, who now stood there looking both bewildered and exuding his lack of aggression in every way possible. Apparently though, these ogres had some pretty thick heads. “Well, alrigh’ there ain’t no use puttin’ up a figh’ when ya know yer gonna lose. What d’ ye what?”

Gildarts felt his ears perk at the sudden question, “What do you know about a creature... That has caused havoc and chaos in many villages? I’m looking for any information, any at all-”

“They won’t be able to help you,” A gruff voice grunted from behind him, and as Gildarts turned, his eyes widened ever so slightly, as he took in the massive figure who’s height rivaled even his. An orc, who stood at least a head above Gildarts, sauntered through the darkness and in the pale shadows, his skin was dimly lit and had a similar hue to that of a leaf. His stature was rough, wide, and wrought with rugged sinew. Protruding just above the admirable figure’s maw, were two long tusks, spearing the air in front of him with a sort of brutish pride. A grizzly smile emerged on the orc’s face, as he flashed his sharp, crooked teeth in the direction of first Gildarts, and then whom he regarded as the two runts.

As the legendary orc grew near, the ground shuddered in his step. The ogres trembled in their skins as the tusked stranger suddenly stopped, a few feet away from the three of them. As he paused to size Gildarts up, Whompt’s foot fell on a large mound of rocks, which he stomped into the dirt and didn’t think twice about it as he stretched out his gait. Over his shoulder, lay a giant axe, almost the size of the orc’s body. As he turned to the Prime to meet him in the eye, he nearly swept the two ogres off their feet.

“Greetings there, I’m Whompt.” the orc didn’t offer a hand, nor a foot to shake. He simply stood there, squishing the remainder of pebbles below his foot as his savage eyes clashed with the wizard’s in the depths of the night.

“Gildarts.” the prime said, politely, yet made it clearly obvious he was neither friend nor foe.

“Nice to meet ye’ Gildarts, and if it’s the Orgosynth you’re after, you’d best travel north of here, no use askin’ these runts which direction that even is.” Whompt exuded his knowledge rather plainly, and still kept his intentions of sharing this information hidden.

“Hm.”

Before Gildarts could say more, the two ogres spoke up, “A-actually m-mister Whompt sir...”

“Wait, you can’ be the great orc from the legen’s can ye?” George interrupted, stupefied.

“What’s that?” his eyes bore down on them like lasers and he directed his question to Fred, the tall one. “You got something you wanna share?”

“I do,” Fred looked at both of the Primes, and couldn’t hide the mystified awe he felt as he explained the story, “We had some foul creature come ‘n ‘ere bout a month back. ‘Orrible thing it was, said it was searchin’ searchin’ for its next master.”

“Did it now?” Whompt’s face suddenly grew dark, as if anger had struck a match and it so suddenly had made light to his face. The orc leaned two inches from Fred’s nose and sniffed and snorted, as though his search to confirm this truth would come in breathing in the ogre’s rank breath.

“Aye, it did.” George seconded this, and considered continuing the story, “The mons’er came in ‘ere and took our own. For a while ‘e seemed to be the same ol’ ogre, but then one day, as if ou’ of th’ blue, he went berserk. Suddenly our brother keeled over and died, and then the monster, looking like green slime and sludge, fled cursing the weakness of ‘im.”

A grunt of acknowledgement came from underneath Whompt’s tusks. Meanwhile a question was forming on Fred’s lips as his eyes glinted over the polished shine of the orc’s axe, “So did someone hire you to kill it?”

“Hire me? ‘Fraid not. I’m actually curious. Of quite a few things. I want to see what this creature is made of, the Malefactor’s legend has been around for quite a while now. I’m interested in taking it on.” Just then, Whompt offered Gildarts a glinting smile, as if he had just proposed an offer and expected the prime to take it.

Gildarts remained silent as the information lingered like a heavy cloud in the air. The ogre guards seemed to be less fearful of the two primes and more or less impressed. Whompt now continued, revealing his ultimatum plainly, or at least, plainly stating what was on his mind, “Gildarts, I know you from Dante’s Abyss. While I didn’t participate, I’d say you made it pretty high. Though you did have a couple of blunders, you could’ve easily won, had you not gone and gotten yourself killed. I recognize you from the tournament though too... I saw your incredible power. And now, it just so happens that we seem to be after the same thing,” that glint in his smile was back, “So how’s about it then? Care to join me?”

Fred gasped.

George gaped, “You’re going after the Malefactor together?!”

Fred chimed in, “This is going to make history.”

“Hang on, hang on, he hasn’t decided yet!” George looked eagerly at Gildarts, in fact, they all did. It was only Whompt’s eagerness who held a bit of menace in his gaze.

All sets of eyes were on Gildarts, who procured a bit of a smile.

“You know, I usually work alone.”


...
Whompt’s hearty laughter filled the pathway, “Har har har, that’s the spirit. Hey, thanks for your help boys!” the mercenary tipped them a smile and then strolled right by them.

The crunch of his heavy step had faded into the gentle stir of the night, and while the orc did rouse some impact when he walked, it seemed his intention now was to be shrouded in stealth, so hidden and silent he was. Gildarts waded through the pool of black beside him, his mission would be a lot easier with a guide, however, he knew better than to just trust people who suddenly announced their names and asked him if he wanted to join forces. The prime, while not untrusting, was very loyal to his gut instincts. His instincts told him there was something more to the orc than just what he said. His instincts also told him that Whompt was a lot like him.

Whompt was a mercenary, and by the sound of it, a damned good one. Gildarts was a mage, he was hired to do missions by his guild, and while the only Fairytail there was in the Omniverse was the one who’s memories he carried with him, Gildarts also had Ambrosia, which had quickly become a good home for him. “Home” was indeed what he would call it. He had friends he considered family there, and a princess he admired with all his heart, leading good people to do very good things. Whompt had an edge. He had grit. He wanted to fight. And while Gildarts only fought when he had to, he never minded sharing a punch or two with friends or enemies.

Whompt’s intentions, though vaguely unknown, didn’t strike the wizard as a particularly immediate worry to have. Instead, Gildarts inquired about the Malefactor.

“Eh? Yer going after this monster and you don’t know what it is?” the mercenary seemed to hold a questioning look on his face, one that wrinkled with limited accusation towards his newest ally.

“I know what it’s capable of.” Gildarts and the tusked orc walked at an equal pace side by side, but both of them seemed to scan their half of the woods keenly and cautiously. There as no denying that each of them were unrivaled in what they did, however there was a subtle feud growing in their dynamic, one that became more and more evident as it was tangible in their taste of words.

“Aye, perhaps that’s most important then, the rest falls second. That why you’re after it? After all, to take down this creature will be no small task.” the sound of a challenge ebbed in the Prime’s ears.

Gildarts fell silent for a moment, and the more it stretched out, the more charismatic he seemed. For below the veil of the words Whompt had chosen not to use, there was a mystery that hung, Gildarts displayed this same quality, yet less brashly. His silence told both ears that he had control, and this guarded sheen of capability was one that met formidably with that of the orc’s challenge.  “Yes. It was mentioned to me by a few of the Ambrosians, which prompted me to depart once more and see if I could go find it.”

Suddenly, Piqui, the creamy kitten exceed, poked her head out of the bag, “Gildarts, what’s for breakfast?”

Whompt nearly gave a start as his beefy hands wrapped around the handle of his axe, when he saw it was merely a cat, his eyes still slants, relaxed as he found Gildarts recognized the cat. The legendary orc knew that there were a great many dangers in this forest, but Gildarts didn’t seem to think Piqui was one of them. Her ears perked at the stranger, and her voice squeaked, “Who’re you?”

“I might ask you the same question,” Whompt spoke, guarded.

“My name’s Piqui.” the cat’s voice glimmered as it sliced through the darkness, “You’re clothes are strange.”

The talking-cat had examined with her big-moon shaped eyes the orc’s leather armor, it was ragged and not in such good condition, it was evident they had been worn heavily, if ever even taken off.

“Uh well- Shhh...” Whompt slowed to a stop mid-pace, causing Gildarts to do the same. The mercenary squared his stance and drew his axe, Piqui, intrigued, angled her head out of the bag to see what the orc was looking at, her night vision gave her the best optics of the three, but Piqui assumed everyone had night vision, so when she saw a giant, slimy, floating kraken she thought everyone saw it.

Gildarts remained silent, as his narrow eyes tuned in on the sound. It was sickening. Branches cracked as though they were bones being broken, while an oozing gooey liquid was drizzled onto the floor of the forest and left a sleek path over the leaves. The kraken, though well over eight feet tall, looked more like a large squid, yet it was out of water, and instead of swimming it floated like a ghost in the night.

It was only a feet in front of them before both Primes saw what it was. Piqui had disappeared to her place back in his bag, meanwhile Whompt and the kraken seemed to have seen each other at the same time. Squeals from the little ghostly beast could be heard coming from its dangling spread of tentacles. It fled almost immediately, and as it increased its speed it began to glow, but this pale blue color was quickly lost by the stump and branches of the trees.

Whompt growled, “Shit. Those things are bad news. And that was a small one.”

Gildarts frowned, size didn’t mean everything, but if Whompt said that this eight-foot tall creature was small the mage couldn’t help but to theorize what he was comparing it to. Before the pair could run, dart, or do anything, Gildarts found his question answered. Hovering in the sky like a giant, ominous, low-hanging cloud, was a larger form of the squid they saw, however this one had a few notable differences. It had many more tentacles, it was at least ten times the size, and this kracken’s eyes were glowing red. As though with a blood-thirsty rage. Its many appendages thrashed vehemently in the air, it moved and swayed above the trees of the forest, wildly uprooting clumps of trees at a time, as though they were weeds.

This unearthing shook the ground, Gildarts and Whompt wobbled on their feet as the scent of fresh soil filled their nose. The Kraken frantically searched and suddenly- Suddenly, it had him. Its sweeping grasp coiled around Whompt like an anaconda and the orc was stolen into the air. The kraken seemed satisfied with its trophy, and appeared to begin to wander off, lifting Whompt higher and higher into the air.Without hesitation, Gildarts felt the magic condense in his heels, crush the ground, and launch him into the air with a remarkable swiftness. The prime landed on the arm of the sky-dwelling beast.

Gildarts tried to gauge whether or not the coiling was strangling the orc, however now they were far too high in the air for Gildarts to simply refer to “punching” it, because Whompt would surely fall as a result. He had to think quickly, he had to think...

Gildarts shouted to the orc while the creature’s mighty tentacle swayed with its movement, gliding over the air. “Give me your hand,” Gildarts plunged his own in after the orc, and finally, grasped a shape covered in ectoplasmic slime. Whompt was able to wriggle his way out, with the mage’s extra hand, and almost immediately the mercenary as free. Quickly Gildarts scrambled his way up the silky sea-creature’s pearl shaped back, meanwhile Whompt seemed to have a debt to pay, and took his mighty axe to the single arm of the beast.

A roar of pain thundered in the air, sounding like an army of pterodactyls, while the arm itself slithered as it fell heavily to the ground. Whatever was causing this remarkably huge creature to fly, was not attached to any of its limbs, which probably weighed tons in themselves. They probably had a force that could crush a man in an instant, Gildarts, had he had the time, would’ve questioned how Whompt was even still alive, however, the answer had been the remarkable width of the orc’s axe, it had sliced through the slimy flesh of the thing and the harder the suctioning tentacle coiled around the orc, the further its arm was sliced.

Whompt was still catching his breath and recovering, though his mind was sharpened by the quick pace of battle. He caught Gildarts out of the corner of his eye, and saw what the Prime was doing. Eyeballs were bursting one by one, splattering red all over the prime’s garments. Another punch, the burst of an eyeball, while the Kraken howled, it quickly lost its sight and billowed and swayed in the sky as though it had no particular place to be.

Whompt hopped onto the Kraken’s planet sized back, but since it could no longer see where it was going, its sense of gravity seemed to falter, and the crackle of broken trees could be heard the beast crash landed, Gildarts and Whompt were thrown from the beast and fell into the deep canals of a river.

A cold rush of water enveloped Gildarts and caused his mind to buzz with the numbed feeling of ice. As he resurfaced, spewing bubbles of air, and shaking out the droplets that had soaked in his hair, he noticed through blinking and blurry eyes that the eight foot Kraken was amidst the now sea of twisting and turning snake-slithering tentacles. It seemed Gildarts had punched the eyes and blinded the kraken that had been the mother, now the child, dwelling in the safety of her arms, was safely tangled.

Though the creature howled with pain, the Kraken’s kit was there in its arms, and neither had been injured to the point of death. Gildarts was relieved, until he heard the silent mewings of Piqui below the surface of the water, “Mwrrrrrewwww!!!”

He lifted her up immediately, as Whompt, who had delved a little deeper into the river, had finally come up to breathe the air of the living. With Gildarts’ help, Piqui joined him. Her wings were damp so she really couldn’t float like she tried to. Instead she fell with a watery ”SPLAT!” right back into the running water she had attempted to flee from. With an extended hand, Piqui finally made it back in towed on the wizard’s arm at first, before finally climbing to the very top of his head and sitting there as though it were her perch, and she began to quickly dry after that.

Meanwhile, through Piqui’s swimming struggle, Whompt and Gildarts were having their own issues. The river, in this particular section, did not want to be fought. The current was rough, and its waves had sharp edges as they flowed over rock and merged with other conflicting waves.

The orc seemed to be having a lot more trouble. He, unlike Gildarts, toted his weapon on his back. The river was as wild and savage as the beasts that dwelled within it. Little did Gildarts know it was known as monsoon season when it rained a lot here. Both of them were coughing now, and struggling to stay above water. For the river had caught their fall, but what was to stop them from drowning?

Further and further down river they were cast. Whompt at this point was gargling as he attempted to stay afloat, his large feet paddled as his arms extended and squirmed in the water, but nothing would combat the sinking panic he had in his stomach. Would he lose the axe that carried such sentimental value? Sure he could summon another one, in exchange for his life, and death by drowning didn’t seem like it was that good of an idea. But it wasn’t looking like he had much of a choice, and even Gildarts seemed to be having a rough time.

The Fairytail wizard didn’t like to swim, simply for the fact that he had lost two limbs since he last did it. His inorganic appendages weren’t aerodynamically designed for this kind of warfare, and even though they were full of magic, that didn’t give him the ability to combat these shredding, grating waves. He struggled to stay afloat, much like his orc-companion, and every gasping, desperate breath he would attempt to take, would be met with another swallow of water into his lungs. Gildarts growled now, the flood water was overcoming him, overtaking him. And suddenly, like a dam bursting within him, Gildarts growled, “I’ve had enough of this!”
An eruption of water flared into the sky, and the river’s water immediately ceased its flow. Instead the water was relocated upward about forty five feet and gushed along the sides of the giant island that Gildarts had made. Whompt’s feet suddenly met soggy sand, and each of the prime’s tumbled to a stop as they recovered the breath in their lungs and kicked out any excess gulps of river they may have taken.

Finally the orc came to his senses, and he felt the weight of weariness drag on his back, along with the rest of his suddenly fatigued muscles. His dark eyes looked up to see what had happened, what had caused them to be touching the riverbed, and Whompt recounted what had happened in his mind. Gildarts had caused a massive explosion in the water, which had suspended all the river’s momentum into the air. It was as though he had parted the red sea, the orc’s eyes remained widened as the rush of water thickened in his ears.

Whompt was still on all fours as Gildarts offered his hand to the green-skinned orc once more, “There isn’t much time left, let’s get to land.”

Gildarts had helped the mercenary up, and then quickly set a pace as he trudged through the sand. Whompt followed, as he stared at the kitten’s soaked tail dangle the same length of Gildarts flame colored hair, all the way down his neck.

The pair approached the wall of water, raised high and completely in a circle around them. Hell, Gildarts didn’t even know if the direction he had chosen was one that was near the banks of the river. The water and drowning had been very disorienting.

The mage’s cape was sticking to his skin, and the edges of his brawn could be seen poking out of the layer of fabric now seemingly glued to him. “Now here come’s the tricky part.” Even Gildarts couldn’t get out without breaking the initial spell. They’d have to time it just right...

A surge of water came up over the dwindling wall, their shoes squished with water as they ran and the tsunami was just at their heels as they were chased out of the last part of the riverbed by the substantial, girth of the towering wave. Gildarts and the Orc awkwardly dashed to their escape as a shower of water sprayed them from above. The taste of the air was water, and it seemed that it was surrounding them once more. The tumbling tsunami rumbled with an ominous echo as the two primes suddenly ducked out of it’s way, and not a moment too soon, as the tremendous force of gushing water surged by them with enough impact to take down three dragons at once.

After passing enough trees, Gildarts and the orc caught their breath. Then, Gildarts started laughing, Piqui fell off of his head at the rapid jerks and ample sliding, so she settled for his shaking shoulder and then, after hacking up another burst of stuck water from her throat, began laughing too. Whompt then chimed in, his own hearty laughter echoing and bellowing with a tremendous amount of sheer power to it. The three of them had narrowly escaped death, only to have the grave moment dissolve into laughter, the next minute, they felt a sudden dark gust of wind haunt and pierce their bones, so they tore off their unnecessary clothing and huddled around a fire the resourceful Whompt had made for them.

Each found their perch on a comfortable bark-encrusted log and extended their hands to the fire, except Gildarts, who only extended one.


...

Glowing eyes crept up over the shoulders of the Primes after some time. Piqui was lapping her fur and had made a bed on some leaves, feeling protected under Gildarts’ watchful eye.

The eyes grew closer, as did the pricking sense on the back of Gildarts’ neck that he was being watched as he sipped his hot cocoa. The silence was filled only by the crackling of the fire, where were the sounds of the many creatures in the forest? The crickets? The river, even?

Gildarts felt his eyes move to Whompt, who had become unusually still and stiff. Underneath the leather armor, the orc’s pale green skin was stained and stitched with many battle scars. It told of his brutish nature, and the fact that he sat tall with these marks, told Gildarts that the mercenary was proud of each one.

Their eye shined in the fire, while they said nothing, but each exchanged a feeling of dismay to one another. Gildarts’ eyes had appeared as though they had said ’do you sense that?’

Meanwhile Whompt’s expression was a silent warning, ‘Yes, and they’re about to introduce themselves, you mustn’t make a move.’

Gildarts did as he felt was requested of him, prompted by the nonverbal cues of the tusked orc, which had began to say, ‘We’re in their territory now.’

One crept up behind Gildarts slowly, silently, so soundlessly that Gildarts remained oblivious to even the being’s existence, and he was just about to find out exactly who “they” were.

...

“Make no sudden movements,” Whompt advised in a low voice, and Gildarts complied accordingly.

Slowly his next breath was sucked into his lungs until he exhaled with great relief through his mouth. Another gulp of air was dragged in, and gushed out. The eyes in the corners of his own shimmered and danced in the fire, as Whompt and Gildarts waited for their leader to emerge.

Donned in black, Gildarts could barely see the outline of a man come to the light. The glow of the flame flickered and hissed as he approached, as though he were the epitome of darkness and that he and light should not mix. Gildarts raised his eyes and nothing more, to meet the man of stealth, while Whompt grunted, holding back his snort of annoyance and amusement to see the man approach with no weapons drawn. Gildarts of all people would know that he did not have to wield a mighty axe like his companion, to slice his enemies down in an instant, with little to no movement.

“Greetings,” a silent voice welcomed them. Gildarts could only see the slice of his eyes while the rest was covered in a layer of sheer black fabric, but wearing black was not what made the ninja so mysterious. Something about the way he walked - the soundlessness - left Gildarts awe-stricken.

Whompt took the lead but offered his greeting rather curtly, there was no offer of warmth in his orcish voice, “Hello.”  

Gildarts let his eyes fall on the man swathed in shadow, earnest, yet containing a silent warning. The ninja seemed to appreciate the silence, and took a second look at the Prime, taking a long time to appreciate his brandished silver limbs as they glistened in the sparks of light. Suddenly, his eyes narrowed, as if prompted by some unknown enemy.

“You are Whompt, are you not?” the ninja said, turning to face the orc and at last moving his eyes from Gildarts.

“Aye, I am.” The Prime agreed, his interest piqued, the skin around his eyes turned into a nasty scowl, showing his wrinkles of age. The orc, as though in a staring contest with the ninja did not blink, as though daring him to test this truth. Whompt’s fingers twitched for his axe, which was propped right beside him, against the log he was using as a bench.

Gildarts sat motionless next to Piqui, who’s resting eyes blinked open when her ears twitched at the grizzly sound, and then she blinked them closed again.

“We need you to come to our village right away, there’s been an attack.” the ninja concluded, suddenly the desperation in his eyes became so apparent, so powerful, that even the shrouding black mask could not disguise his pain.

“An’ what, ye don’t even introduce yerself?”  But Whompt was not one to waste time, he quickly stood and swung his giant axe over his shoulder, and the ground below his heels indented with the added weight.

“Come, let us go, and I am sorry I forgot my manners in my urgency. I am Nekui, an apprenticed ninja of the village Kimicha. It is an honor to meet you, Whompt, your reputation is well known.” the ninja began to lead them in the dark, it was evident that he was able to see in the dark, however he carried the torch for Gildarts and Whompt as they walked with some haste along the well-trodden path.

“That’s m’ current partner, Gildarts. He’s got a good amount o’ skill, I meself think we can take ‘im on, whatever this ‘im is.” Whompt continued, though he let his voice be cautious as though it would draw out whatever they were hunting, “So what is ‘t?”

“All of a sudden, my master’s face got red, his blood vessels surged to life, and it was as though anger overtook him. He waged war on our village. It was not until we immobilized him did we see the true threat that caused him to go mad, and it was able to escape.” Nekui briefed them and both Primes felt their eyes widen.

Neither of their eyes had to meet for the two to confirm that this case sounded awfully similar to the one they were currently investigating. Whompt’s pace quickened, “Did y’ happen to see which direction the bugger went?”

Suddenly there was a roar of distress, however, it echoed over the land of the forest as though it were being howled from a gigantic mouth. Gildarts thought that it sounded reminiscent of a creature he had once encountered here, but in the dim light he could barely see his own shoes, not to mention confirm the beast that could’ve been miles and miles away.

“A friggin’ T-rex?” Whompt shouted out of outrage, not caring if he woke up the entire forest, “At this time of night? Something must’ve....”

The ninja stayed silent, as though he had realized it too. Somber eyes fell upon the prime warriors, and the ninja offered his aid, “I will offer you my help the best I can to slay this beast, after all, this village is my home, however, many have died, and I would like to voice it is my wholehearted wish to return to them in once piece, so that I may fill my master’s shoes.”

“Ye’ ye’ enough with the sen’iment you’re botherin’ me eardrums, got it?” Whompt grumbled.

[Gildarts]

Gildarts paused a moment, and extended his steely hand outward, onto the young ninja’s shoulder. With this gesture, that of a friend open to console with, it also acted as a passing of courage. The Prime had nothing to fear, or so it seemed, in Nekui’s eyes, for when he looked up at the strong man who stood so boldly upright, there could not have been anything less than limitless confidence streaming through him. Though slightly on the stoic side, Gildarts offered the apprentice a smile as the Prime looked him in the eyes like an equal.

“I want you to be able to go home and look after your village when all this is over, because they will need you. You can provide support, even from the trees, it will make this battle easier.” Gil’s words were a decent summary, and in them, subtle strategy, for the Prime above-all-else, valued the treasure that was held within every aspiring youth.

Suddenly, the ninja felt a flourishing of hope sprout wings and fly off into the future where his freshly shattered hopes seemed to have once been stored.  It returned to him now. Nekui could not wipe the admiration from his face, and Gildarts was either too oblivious, wrapped up in their current endeavor, or too full of honor to let even an epidemic of veneration inflate his head.

Whompt saw this little exchange and found himself scoffing, first out of amusement, then at the fact that he might have done the same in another scenario. The orc’s gruff voice broke the silence, and freed Gildarts from the enwrapping expression of the youth, “Come on, we haven’ got all night.”

Black night flooded over every crevice that they looked, the moon had set, and there was nothing illuminating their path, save Whompt’s uncanny sense of sight. It didn’t need to flow off anyone’s tongue, for it was on each of their minds that the creature of their nightmares had delved into the body -or brain, for that matter- of the T-Rex. Nekui followed the path created by the two leaders swiftly, and without trace of his presence marked by any amount of sound. Neither Gildarts nor Whompt looked back to see if the lad was still there. Instead, their eyes were set forward, Gildarts found him fist balled together, his white fingers clutched in anguish. He had felt a surge of power explode within him, and he was fighting to keep it down.

Whompt too, noticed the disquiet in the Prime’s demeanor, and grunted his concern, “Y’right there?”

But by the sound of it, they were almost upon the location of the mighty carnivore. Immense thrashing and crashing of the branches could be heard shaking the mere air of the night. Brilliant crackling, louder than any thunder Gildarts had ever heard before, roared from high above and radiated outward over them. Waves of the creature’s immense, ear-shattering screech collided with that of the heft of its step, and the seemingly endless domino of trees from the beast’s rampage.

With newly adjusted eyes, Gildarts could see through the dark. And what he saw in the beast, caused his eyes to widen still with revelation. The beast’s eyes were lit with a torturous red flare, as if enflamed from within. Of course, the rest of the pale green monster towered over them, and the stalks of many trees, most of which had been torn down in the T-Rex’s wake. What Gildarts saw, through the darkness, as his eyes fell on the creature, was himself.

Gildarts saw the explosion in Camelot. He saw the destruction, the senseless devastation, the lack of muse in the Rex’s eyes. Not that the dinosaur had any idea it’s body was being used as a puppet, vengeance for the simple crime of boredom that had gone on for too long. Gildarts wasn’t sure how he knew, but he had the vague sense that there was another desire fueling the Rex’s bout of unending rage. Some thirst for power that would not be quenched by the means of a creature that was simply stumbled upon, and weighing its feasible size, had been chosen simply for show.

That which had invaded the dinosaur had its own problem. The beast was too tame. There had been no challenge, because the emotions of that of an animal or monster, were not complex enough to serve as anything the orgosynth would view as victory. This took the fun out of the invasion’s success, so in the monster’s form, two as one, they released their primitive wrath all around them.

“RRRRRRRAAAAAGHHHH!” The T-Rex roared, sounding almost as though it could form words of its own.

“May the gods have mercy...” the young ninja muttered to himself. It did not reach the ears of the two more experienced fighters, for now, their stances had turned to that of chiseled stone. Bodies with only rippling muscle and pure steel could be seen rushing forward, they were actually going toward that terrible beast. They left the apprentice in the dust, who now blinked the plume away from his eyes, and after a moment, aided by his experienced stealth training, the last of him was erased with a single gust of invisible movement.

...

With all the commotion, Gildarts nearly forgot about the sack he had balanced evenly over his shoulder. Within this sack, was Piqui. He wouldn’t need her odd powers of serenity to soothe his own, not for a battle that was looking more like a blood thirsty war, on both sides. The orc was already going in with his axe held high and blazing, ready to hammer through the thick ankles of the beast’s legs.

Whompt’s speed was quick, and he didn’t bother to look over his shoulder looking for his comrade, this told Gildarts, that the orc usually worked alone. There was no time to be wasted, and Gildarts made haste as he set down the bag with Piqui and said, “Stay here, be safe.”

Following those words were the fast trod of a quickened pace, urgency in his stride as he too made his way toward the monster that brought only annihilation to those who fell prey to it.

The monster known as The Malefactor.

Gildarts executed his speed and was launched into the night, leaving Piqui alone and shivering as her ears popped out of the bag curiously and her nose raised to the air. It didn’t take long for her cat eyes to slice through the darkness and see the glory of the beast the two primes would be facing alone. It was who knew how many times their height, and already Whompt had been slapped aside by it’s tail and his spine met the stalk of a very hard pine tree.

The orc clenched his teeth as the bolt of pain struck his entire body and his two tusks shook along with his head as the tornado of dizzy disorder dissipated from his eyes. He was brought back to the reality, no matter how bleak. Gildarts on the other hand was facing this beast in the same way he faced many of his challenges, sheer force, a little wit, and a whole lot of luck. Gildarts had known where to aim his first blow, and the well-delivered punch at the ankle had thrown the towering beast off balance. The Prime was quick to avoid the sweeping motion of it’s tail, which had thrown his comrade in arms off to the side.

The beast’s tremendous weight could have stomped the life out of Gildarts then and there, the punch was no more than a splinter to the great tyrannosaurus, who had thick, reptilian scales to protect him from blows such as this. Gildarts found his keen eyes looking at all the different pressure points that would be fatal to the beast. Most would be upward, one on the stomach, one in the chest of the torso, ribs, enabling an arm would be a good idea, though they were small and didn’t seem to have much use to the beast. Then there were the jaws. Massive, immense, jaws.

The colossal maw of the monster had spiking teeth so large not all of the creature’s scaly lips could fully cover them. These fangs were nearly the size of him. Gildarts made no effort to go anywhere near them, and decided that the shots closer to the beast’s head would have to wait until he was wounded or immobilized. All these predictions, the pinpoints of the creature’s weakness, had been done before the legendary Prime could even blink. Gildarts was good at that, seeing the weakness in people, and perhaps in himself. It was this that helped him hone his own skills through the many years he had lived, fought, and tested himself. That was what made him such a formidable fighter, not what seemed like sheer force, but how he appraised the enemy for the best shot. It didn’t hurt, having a well-rounded set of skills, either.

As though the movement was nothing to the craggily heap of scales and bones, its gigantic head swooped down from above. With the little light Gildarts did have, he easily saw the sharp silhouette of doom descend on him. It was as though a shadowed hand, garnished with varied spikes, with length akin to a tall blazing fire. The wizard was startled by the swiftness in the creature’s motion, and only by a fraction of an inch did the jaws manage to miss him. A part of his flowing black cloak was torn off, and the beast, though he had small snake-like nostrils, caught a whiff of Gildarts and blew out some steam in fiery disgust. The shred of black fabric remained wedged between the teeth, representing what would have been if Gildarts had not acted quickly.

In the creature’s small, glinting eyes, there was intelligence. A voice that spoke through the reptile’s colossal head. A voice of faulted reason. At least, however, the thing could taste the truth, the orgosynth knew what it was dealing with now, and summarized to his host’s body, “Ah, so there are two of them...”

”Blood, blood...” the T-Rex thought in a frenzy as the predacious beast was so keen on finding its prey this way. It was laden with the musty scent of the orc, where was he, anyway?

Whompt had used Gildarts near decapitation as a distraction, and used it to wham his axe right into the base of the giant’s ancient spine. It was almost like he was getting revenge on the body part that had overwhelmed and defeated him, but that was last round, this time, the orc had swung with monumental force, and nearly chopped the entire thing off.

A ferocious roar of rage and agony bellowed into the air, Gildarts had to stop and cover his ears, for the force of sound would have shattered his eardrums. Meanwhile Whompt, who had notably smaller ears, carried on as though he was cutting lumber. Blood splattered and coated the orc, who paid no mind to the fresh scent in the air, nor the taste of the splashes that landed in his mouth. In Whompt’s eyes, he had seen weakness, and taken his shot. Gildarts wanted to look out for his ally, so he did not have any more deaths on his hands and noticed the T-Rex was already swooping around toward the pain, however his jaws were no longer that of a predator hunting, instead, they were that of a beast that knew only war.

...

“Watch out!” Gildarts warned the second the creature’s loud howl had ceased, and not a moment too soon. Whompt was mid-swing when his axe came up into the fossil’s nose and the jaws, bigger than a room of a large house came down and nearly surrounded the orc. Somehow, Whompt had evaded the jaws of death, but the axe had not been so lucky. The sickly dinosaur chomped down like it was a toothpick, and no more could be seen of the axe or the mighty blade’s vanished handle.

“I ca’ look out for m’self,” the orc grunted, his words said one thing and spoke from pride, but his eyes said another. They had reunited on the far side of the beast, but reflected that they must look something like ants from his birds’ eye view.

“He can’t see us from this angle, but he can smell us,” Gildarts thought out loud. Then with the slight of his amber eye, Gildarts caught sight of the down pouring of blood from Whompt’s shoulder. The white of Gil’s eyes burst with new life, perhaps even a modest concern for the orc, “Can you still fight?”

“ ‘Tis but a scratch,” the orc muttered, and more or less meant it, spoken from a warrior’s pride or not. Gildarts made note of this, who was he to doubt the orc’s will or conviction. Gildarts too, would have laid down his life for his cause. Whompt seemed the same, and yet slightly different in motive, but a fighter was a fighter. The wizard saw the slow dribble of black blood onto the ground. Already they were in bad shape, Gildarts could no longer rely on the orc for aid, instead, now he had to consider looking out for double his weight. This burden, heavier than his own life, always hung over Gildarts, which might be why the wizard usually went off alone, a nomad of adventure and harbinger of peace via his own war.

Gildarts now had to end it quickly. Now, because of the sad state of his comrade in arms. There would be no telling the orc to hit the bench, or recover. He knew his limits, it was now Gildarts’s responsibility, to decide who would live and who would die. The T-Rex at the price of his own neck, or his friend. Gildarts didn’t like these decisions, and frankly preferred not to even exercise the thought of doubt, for that was the core of all fear...

“Decisions... decisions...” Gildarts thought he heard a whisper in his ears, and instead found that the dinosaur’s eyes had met his own. The reptilian’s head had cocked to the side, and if the anachronistic beast were able, Gildarts would have sworn he saw a sly smile slither up on those broad jaws.

It was in that coy slip that lead Gildarts to believe that the antediluvian creature had spoken to him. Its eyes were laughing in triumph now, and before Gildarts could make a move, the mighty monster swung it’s still-attached tail over at Whompt, who was creeping around the back, this time, the fresh scent of blood was too detectible to be missed by the dinosaur’s radar, and the injured orc was batted back as easy as a well-pitched ball.

Where he went, Gildarts could not see, only that it was far, especially in the scape of things. A crinkle now firmed around the reptile’s eyes as it swung is enormous head back in Gildarts direction, who had moved closer to made an attack, yet had stopped at the increasing threat of those gaping jaws.

“What ever iss the matter...?” the snakelike sound of the sustaining "s" rattled in the Prime’s ears.

Whatever it was, it was speaking to him.

Gildarts recalled, due to the serpentine expression in the beast’s eye, a man he had once met. One who spoke in lies and had the illusions to prove them, to the eyes that were unwilling to see. Illusions could be the most volatile thing in a fight, Gildarts thought about what the young ninja had said ‘he suddenly went mad...’ what if Gildarts... had already been under it’s spell?

Amber eyes traced the outline of the enormous enemy. It was taller than the stars, or just about, and dawn was soon approaching. Nothing of his surroundings told of a mirage, but every lie was believable, if the seer saw what he was looking for and nothing more. There were no seams, however, to this well-crafted reality, bet that Omni’s quality of craftsmanship, or that of his new foe. The thing that worried Gildarts the most, was the all too corrosive thought of, What if I am already possessed?

...

Would he even know it? Would he ever be able to face it? Would his eyes still see what his fists were destroying? If this were the case, there would be few able to bring him down. Gildarts’ body had spent years facing the most capable of foes before arriving here. Now, it could be him demolishing the young ninja’s village, or worse, some stray route had taken him back to Ambrosia, an the carefully placed veil of illusion that he himself were fighting a colossal-sized dragon, with no wings.
He could control his fists, or at least he thought he could. This could have been a hallucination too. The doubt rattled him, and stirred the broken cage that kept his power in and sealed away. If it was an illusion, but he had control of his fists, there would be purpose to lower them. Yet, Gildarts relied on his gut now, and it told him to simply keep on fighting.

It was rarely wrong.

“OI, GILDARTS! WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?” his ears recognized the familiar tune of the ninja’s voice and the fire of determination in the prime ignited fiercer than any titan-sized challenge that the extinct could pose. Gildarts felt his willpower rekindled and it took him a single moment for his steel fist to collide with the tyrannosaurus rex’s massive nose.

The bone was as hard as stone, which generally shattered when Gildarts applied enough crash magic and pressure, but next moment, the dinosaur had not even uttered pain, instead, the Prime saw the long trickle of blood streaming from its nose. Shards of bone had mangled and contorted the amphibian’s once shapely face. The underlying skull had been broken, but not crushed. This was Gildarts chance to exterminate the threat in front of him.

The Gildarts felt his right arm tense with magic, and soon his feet were moving to deliver the explosion of light into the monstrous beast. One snap from the dragon’s maw and that was all it would take... Gildarts couldn’t help but feel the chill of where his current missing appendages made contact with his skin. It was the same. Nearly everything. Except this time, he would win.

Several punches exploded on the green, slimy scales of the T-rex, however they were aimed low, in order to dodge the maw of the great beast. The blows were imprecise on the sturdy creature’s base, and they had little effect on him. Gildarts, however, was now panting, and he felt a layer of fatigue tracing shadows along the corners of his eyes.

Heavy breaths heaved from his gauss wrapped diaphragm, yet his muscles were strong and held him upright, though the fatigue tempted his mind to sway.

“Getting.... Tired?” the voice slithered in his ear...

Gildarts smirked, as though fatigue were just another challenge for the Prime to overcome. The dinosaur was overconfident, or rather, the malefactor inside him. Gildarts would use that to his advantage, after all, a good strategy was the best way to bring down a beast of such modest size. He couldn’t shake the feeling though that it seemed to want to toy with the Prime, rather than deliver decisive blows as he had to the orc. But there was the possibility that the orgosynth within had sensed the man’s magic, and kept his slight distance while the creature itself derived a plan for the best course of action.

Suddenly, another bombardment of fist met raw scale, and Gildarts slammed his blows into the flank and ribs of the reptile. Quite literally, he had knocked the wind out of the beast. However, instead of characteristically thrashing with its tremendous jaws, stomping with its earth-shattering feet, or swinging it’s sweeping tail to knock down a forrest of trees, the beast grew violently unchained.
Its master had let it off its leash, it seemed, and the tyrannosaurus rex was screeching in pain. The fresh blaze on Gildarts’ eardrums made him wince in pain, yet he had other things to worry about than his eardrums bursting. An enormous, condescending foot was coming at him from above, the beast’s jaws snarled on the other side, and on the side which Gildarts could have escaped, he was cornered by the massive scaly tail.

The Prime’s expression greased to that of certainty. His eyes fell on the parts he would have to be careful when maneuvering through. A lapse of judgement and it would be over, but Gildarts had little time to think about losing his life. Instantly he as flung forward, away from the step of the monster’s heavy gait. Next, he would dodge the jaws, with a loud SNAP! Gildarts could feel the chill of fate on the back of his neck. Freshly sharped blades, a guillotine meant for him, his beheading had been evaded once more. Lastly, the steamrolling onset of an immense wave of thick flesh. It came at him, but Gildarts’ strategy told him to brace himself.

The Prime readied a punch into the tail, and the two forces collided, steel for steel. A shockwave of energy burst all around the Prime and the remnants of the stray streaks of energy shot out into the air, their locations, unknown. The tail of the beast was nearly broken, yet even in its deadweight it had girth. Gildarts’ body was sent into helplessly into the air. He was flung in the direction of a rather large rock, which cracked with giant crevices on his impact.

Pebbles from above clattered on the bridge of his nose, rousing him awake. He felt the heavy steps of a stampede coming in his direction, but Gildarts was still seeing stars. The man’s steely body, with sheer sinew rippling with every crevice, now felt like the rock behind him. Shattered. Broken. Immovable.

“Gah...” the prime could not even tear his arms away from the place they had fallen, like they had been meshed with the same stone that riddled his body with the unending strikes of pain.

Eyelids, weighed like curtains until he ripped them from the dark. He reasoned to himself If I do not move, I will die, and if I fall here, there will be far too many consequences. It was like that of a domino, a single man, then a village, then an entire verse would fall to the destruction of a single tyrant. This creature should not be allowed to live. If only, if only his body would allow him to fight.

“NO!” the ninja appeared, valiantly in front of him. Apparently, he had been throwing ninja stars all along, yet, on a creature this size, the twigs of metal would only stick out from the first layer of his skin. A ninja verses a giant reptile was not a good match, for one was meant for stealth, and the other, sheer and utter force. Yet still, they faced.

“Don’t worry Gildarts, I won’t let this thing get you,” the ninja’s powers of observation were keen, for he had seen, when Gildarts had been unable to flex even the tip of his finger, the slow, labored breaths of his lungs rising and falling, “You nearly nicked it back there, and I commend you for this fight, but now, it is my turn, to defeat the monster that murdered my master and destroyed my home.”

The dragon-sized monster was already upon him, and it towered over the ninja, clothed in black, with the dark silhouette of an immense skyscraper, reducing the threat the secondary posed to that of a pea. Still the boy had fight, and executed a few of the moves he had mastered, as well as the courage given to him by the same man he was defending.

Clouds of smoke would have no effect on a beast that saw better with his nose, so Nekui simply pulled out his katanas and in an instant, they were lit with a curious blue flame. With a few slashing blows, the scales of the beast resembled butter, and gashes soon opened where the flash of blade met with the shimmer of green scales.

It wasn’t long, however, that the boy grew tired. With each blow, there was an equal amount of weariness delivered to the ninja. It was apparent that the attack was taking a lot of out him, and soon enough the boy lost the only thing that was keeping him alive, speed. The fatigue of a single human against the unending resources of a giant was something that was damned near impossible to overcome. If that of the orc and the wizard had barely lasted a few rounds with the beast, it was only courage and blind rage that had given the ninja the hopeful chance that he would be the one to deliver the killing blow to the monster and slice open its neck.

Gildarts had willed his eyes open. The rock had formed an arch around where he had landed, and he was nearly smothered by the stone, which was growing up and around him. A curious happenstance, that the Prime had fallen on a stone that had regenerative powers, but now, it looked like he would grow into the wall of stone, and his voice cracked as he applied the pressure to ask for aid. No, his eyes told him the boy had nearly been chomped to death a second ago, it looked like Gildarts would have to face this threat solo.

The rock had nearly devoured him, creeping up like quicksand, filling in and solidifying in crevices in its congealing sedentary form. The weight of rock coiling against his legs, arms, and diaphragm made it harder for him to breathe than the fatigue that weighed in his bones.

The Fairtytail wizard’s faith was wavering, again and again he willed himself to be stronger than the rock that was now zapping his energy, whatever reserves he had had left, it was almost like the last had been sucked up for the giant boulder to grow where it was broken.

Clenching muscles and veins popped out of place, struggled against the limits of bone and the sheer density of the stone made it nearly impossible for him to carry on. He coaxed himself, “Come on..” but he had not even the energy to complete the words. With a grimace, Gildarts concluded that this was nearly the end. He could not move, his joints were immobile, and soon enough whether it was the pressure of stone that wrapped around his ribs like an anaconda, or the final sealing up of stone around his mouth, sooner rather than later, he would take his final breath.

Sooner, it seemed, that the ribs around his lungs were snapping like twigs. Crack! Crrrack! Gildarts was not only engulfed in rock, but now consumed by the pain. It was torture, for he heard the breaking of his bones, felt the twist of his lungs around the mangled shards of bone, before he felt the sharp stabbing of pain pierce every thought and every memory he had held onto that was good. All of this, and he could not even scream.

He was being eaten alive, and was helpless to emancipate himself. He, Gildarts Clive of Fairytail, had fallen once more to the throes caused by that of a dragon. How was it, that the bitterness of fate could be so cruel? The Prime, had no idea, and instead, the snap of his ribs fought his ability to think. He would soon lose his ability to breathe, and that, would be the end.

“No.” he told himself. But that was not enough. He himself, no matter how much rebellion he could muster to wage within himself, would never be enough to overthrow the deliverer of death.

...

“Help!” a voice squeaked.

“Where’s Gildarts?” the ninja asked to the the kitten, Gildarts, remembered now, Piqui, that beautiful little cat had been over the ninja’s shoulder when the boy came in to save Gildarts’ life. Both of them would be killed. Murdered. Slaughtered by the monster he had not had the strength to defeat.

“Gildarts, help!” Piqui squeaked again, Gildarts could not see it from the dark shroud of his Vitruvian sized cave, but he could imagine the two youths helpless below the chomping jaws of death.

Gildarts found he had two options. He could give up, he could tell them, “I cannot, I am not able to fight any more,” with the little strength he had left, that which he had been using to retaliate against the slow agony that came with his body’s fragmented destruction. Or he could do the easier of the two, and used the only thing he had left to fight with. He would convert the very blood in his body to liquid magic. And if that wasn’t possible? It didn’t matter, he’d be dead anyway, so why not try?

Boiling water heated his veins, and may as well have melted the blood vessels used to deliver oxygen to his muscles. The fight came to him once more, the whims of agony that his shattering ribs had caused him were nothing to him now. Instead of small splinters of anguish, something more akin to misery swamped his body in a massive upheaval of magic. Energy pulsed in his ears, and his eyes became slants of red. Gildarts felt his haunches move, his skin combatting the rock around him, and winning.

Magic pored from every part of him, including the steel appendages he called his left hand and foot. It took no time at all for the ‘detonator’ button to be pushed, Gildarts saw his body burst with light, and suddenly, there was a crackle of rock. The man eating stone was no more than shards and atoms, flung into the sky and dissipating into sand. Now however, even the ground broke around him, crash magic as flung everywhere, and well, it was a bit out of control.

The T-Rex had been reduced to primitive once more, and it did not acknowledge the man’s puny magic as a threat until it was too late. The ninja had been holding onto the dinosaur’s back, gripping his ninja stars that had once been thrown as thorns into the giant’s massive scales. On the boy’s back, Piqui was slung, cradled by Gildarts’ sack from the home he had known before. The archaic beast roared and attempted to shake them off once more, yet, he could not reach, for they were well located, and the function of the dinosaur’s tail had been nearly cut off, assuring that if the ninja held on -though at the cost of his own, bloodstained hands- the two would survive in the last crevice that the monster could not reach.

When the ninja and the cat’s eyes saw that the man emerge from the litter of pebbled rock, was unmistakably Gildarts, they sighed a breath of relief, though they still found themselves swaying with the beast’s jolting movements. “Gildarts!” both sang in chorus, but he could not hear them, because the roar of crash magic was laced in his blood, and continuously pounding in his ears.

“Uh-uh-oh..” Piqui muttered to herself, as though she had a vague sense, told by instinct, of the Gildarts they were looking at, for she could only partly distinguish that he was not entirely in control.

His eyes were blinded by red shards of light, mirroring the fierce shape of rhombus-shaped diamonds. Suddenly, it was Gildarts who did not see the very people he had come back from the dead to protect, and Gildarts threw a mighty punch into the dinosaur’s torso, pushing the beast from his legs and onto its scaly back. With a loud crash as he had fallen into the protruding stump of a large tree, it was almost ironic, had the ninja not nearly met the same fate.

They jumped from their perch, certain that the large stake wedged in the ancient fossil would be enough to keep it down. However, it was a primitive beast, not persuaded by pain, nor reason, for it could not see the large protruding gash in the side of it’s back, not did it have any knowledge that it was this wound that had punctured its lung.

Wheezing, curt breaths came from the vicious beast, meanwhile Gildarts body was swelling with power, though both knew it was only short-lived. The T-Rex got to his feet, and Gildarts let it, the power he felt already in his boiling blood spoke of chaos and rage, he felt the crash magic coursing through him, as it wished to consume him and do what it did best. Destruction.

However there were still shards of humanity left in him in the swirl of thickening madness. And though, Gildarts was but a hair away from the abyss that could never be returned from, a warrior always knew who his enemy was. This time, it was the monster, and though he could not see the others with his tunneled vision, he hoped they would have gotten out of the way by now, for his fists were moving on their own, and could not be stopped.

Tier 2 power up used! SP -2

[Gildarts]

Blood, blood. There was. So. Much. Blood.

Of course there was, with a beast this mighty, with feet that large, to command jaws that had such immense strength. Even in his haze of white fire, Gildarts could taste it on his tongue, he could feel the excess energy warring inside him, wishing to be let out with the next blow of his fist. War. Destruction. Power.

Blood.

Gildarts could no longer see the lump of mashed scales nor the movement of his own fists as he pounded into the raw meat. The beast’s throat had been broken, and Gildarts had no idea in his fit of destruction whether or not it was still alive. There was a throbbing in his head, and Gildarts vaguely heard two distinct slicing motions, as well as the collapse of a large corpse.

The orc was here now, good, he would not have to fight alone. Bad, he would have to share the prey receiving this far from unwarranted demolition. Whompt’s gleaming battle axe reminded Gildarts that he did not have to fight alone, it also reminded him, slowly, of the curved arch of death. A scythe. Suddenly it all flooded back to Gildarts and the power still flashing in light around his body, wavered and subsided.

Gildarts found his thoughts pulled to the action that had just occurred. Whompt had cut off it’s head. Then it’s tail. Gildarts only now noticed that his arms had frozen in one final punch delivered to the creature. Blood was everywhere. Black, hardened from its original bright crimson. How long...? He could only guess.

“Oi, don’t tell me I’m gonna have to put you down too,” the orc had meant it as a joke, but with his blood spattered blade propped high up on the tall being’s shoulder, Gildarts had felt like the beast would not have hesitated.

The wizard shook himself out of it, and now it was the pain, that took its chance to come rushing back to him. The Prime fell to one knee, and did all he could do not to collapse on himself completely, meanwhile the ninja rushed to Gildarts side, almost out of protection after hearing what the orc had said.

“Well, where is it?” the orc asked the boy. Whompt was quite smart, and it seemed he had realized the boy’s powers of observation were greater than they could have guessed.

“Where is... What? Where were you the entire battle?! We needed you, we nearly died...” the boy was pleading, though he was an apprentice, there was something about the suspicion in his voice that was true. This allegation, however, did not sit well with Whompt, whose menacing tusks grew close to the boy.

“I was flung back nearly a thousun’ meters by that ruddy beast, you outta be lucky I didn’t take long’r than I did or...” the orc’s eyes fell on the other prime. His companion, with strength more notable than any prime he had met before, who had lost control and was now covered in blood. Some of it Gildarts’ own blood, and the rest, well, from the beast he had beaten to near death.

It had seemed that the orc had come back just in time for the end festivities. How convenient, was the perspective the ninja took on it, as he scented deception in the orc’s eyes, “Ye’ outta be lucky th’ I did come back, it was me own choice to come ‘ere in the first place, don’ be ungra’ful to yer elders, kid.”

The orc had a point, but it tasted bland and stale, like it had been an excuse prepared ahead of time, rather than one that was truthful and that the boy’s words had been actually taken as a disrespect.

“Hmph,” the boy strode off and began searching in the mess of flesh for what he knew to be the orgosynth, a parasite that lived inside man and creature alike, hopping from host to host until it found its way into someone particularly special, “Shouldn’t it be in here?”

Whompt growled, “Yer’ wastin’ yer time.”

“The... Creature hasn’t been in the dragon for half of the battle,” Gildarts’ protesting lungs made the struggle of speech much more difficult than the simple flavor of fatigue after a battle.

“WHAT?!” the boy exclaimed, aghast by the mage’s observation. Meanwhile, the orc did not seem surprised. He scoffed to himself and took a guiltless seat on the side of one of the many broken trees. Nekui’s eyes were bulging with curiosity and tainted with a little fright, “How do you know?”

“Because... I fought something intelligent at the beginning, and by the time I was in the rock, the dragon had once again been reduced to a mindless beast,” the wizard clutched his side, and now took the time to notice just how many parts of his body had slivers of skin taken, or deep gashes embedded on the sides and all over his muscle-toned flesh.

Now, the orc was looking at his fellow Prime with beady, intrigued eyes. There was something hidden behind their gaze, something vindictive and aggressive, though perhaps that had simply been the creature’s demeanor all along,“Wow...” Nekui the ninja muttered, “Hey Gildarts, you shouldn’t be-” But the wounded wizard was already teetering off-balance.

A dark curtain had fallen over the Prime’s eyes. Probably, one might look back on it, from oxygen deprivation. Gildarts did not wake up from his fatigue induced coma for what seemed to be a very long time.

...





A weight of a ton of bricks crushed against the Prime’s horizontal body. Immediately, his instinct, still tracing the tail ends of won battle, caused him to bolt up, his eyes burst open like fireworks that had laid dormant until their moment to shine in an explosive blaze of light. Meanwhile, there was a heavy thumping in his chest, Thud-thud. Thud-thud. Thud-thud... It was so strong, so loud in the wizard’s ears, he was nearly nauseous, and despite all this, the stubborn man began to stand. As his torso came past his knees, a woozy feeling overcame his ankles, and his knees began to wobble.

Gildarts grunted, one that alerted whoever was stirring outside of his tent. It was Nekui, the boy ninja had removed his balaclava and underneath the shade of the fabric, to Gil’s surprise, there was a bright and youthful smile. Immediately the boy’s arms wrapped around the Prime, “Gildarts! I thought you were dead! Thank goodness...”

The boy started to ramble on about a few things, which Gildarts heard and the ringing in his ears allowed him to tune out the majority of the fluff. Information, however, sifted in and was welcome. Instead of sleeping for weeks on end, the Prime had only been out a day and a half, this shouldn’t surprise him though, because he was no longer as weak as he once had been when he had arrived in the Omniverse. Then there was the matter of the village, its inhabitants were safe, and had been rejoicing at the slaying of the giant dinosaur which he had been credited with. Since then, they had been celebrating non-stop, as ninjas did, but with the custom sharing of a feast and ale.

“I am glad that your village has more or less recovered.” Gildarts offered with wholehearted sincerity, “Where’s...” What was his name? Empty thoughts rattled in his mind, he had only known the companion for a short amount of time, less than a night, battled by his side, but Gildarts had never been one for such specifics such as names or appearances. As it stands, if Natsu, a boy he had watched turn into a man, were before him, the oblivious prime would more or less identify a pineapple that looked more akin to the dragonslayer, rather than matching his actual face to the name. Even still, Gildarts didn’t have to complete his sentence for Nekui to know the question the Prime asked.

A grim shadow fell on the hollow contours of the ninja’s face, “Oh the orc, he stayed a bit for the festivities, and seemed content that you were still breathing, and has since moved on. He left this morning.”

“G-ahh, what time is it now?” he struggled again, and was pinned back effortlessly against the pillow by the boy’s index finger. Gildarts looked outside the crack of the tent, it was mid-afternoon, meanwhile the boy ninja insisted.

“You must rest some more, you’re not in top condition, and the forest has many horrors, especially if you were to travel through the night.” Nekui was concerned and seemed he wanted to spend time with the Prime that had saved his village, or at least delivered vengeance on the creature that had destroyed it. The secondary also seemed to want to make Gildarts feel at home, welcomed, and free. This however would never be achieved, for Gildarts was a nomad of air and sea, he traveled far and wide, and searched for battles to better himself, and those he encountered, like this very boy.

Gildarts blinked, only once, as if warnings like this did not apply to him, especially where he came from and to those who knew of his name and formidable reputation. People wouldn’t really bother, however, Gildarts did note that the Omniverse was almost a level up from the world of magic which he had come from. Magnolia and the way the magic shimmered practically in the air, made him feel a bit nostalgic, but not enough to convince the Prime to stay. Instead, he began gathering his things, which he saw had been set beside his chair.

The kitten was not inside his back, and he remarked on this. Nekui nodded, “She’s in our makeshift dining hall, we served her milk in a saucer and she’s really drinking it up.”

An elbow was gestured in Gildarts’ direction, but the pun fell over his head so blatantly, it made the boy laugh, “Gildarts, you’re something else.”

A slow smile grew as Gildarts, still drowsy, as they ventured across the makeshift camp. Smells of fresh food loitered near his nose, people stopped to greet and thank the Prime, who offered a modest greeting and continued on his way. He had seen almost the entire hamlet before making it inside the food hall, which was one large tent full of the taste of food that made his stomach ache.

“Piqui!” Gildarts said as he spotted the exceed’s quivering ears, she was nibbling on a piece of fish and lapping her chops, her eyes were shaped like the gentle arch of a rainbow. When she caught sight of Gildarts, her joy, while it remained in her eyes, had turned to concern for the not-so-responsible wizard.

Gildarts had been cleaned up, one of the elders or doctors of the village had even bandaged his wounds, and the Prime, who had once been covered nearly head to two in blood, was now dressed in clean clothes that resembled his old ones -he also found himself wearing a shirt, which was quite uncomfortable for the shirtless marauder- and appeared glossy and glistening, despite having just battled a monster that surely weighed over a ton and had been a heck of a feat to defeat.

“Gildarts!” the exceed squeaked and the two embraced. He rubbed her behind the ears, which made her purr with delight, “What took you so long, are you okay? You took down that big bad guy like pow-pow, pow-pow!” her paws balled into little fists as she simulated the gestures that if he did them in his very room, could very well activate a magical blizzard and send the whole room sky high. He did his best to keep a good pokerface as his mind dared him not to think about this possibility, and the three talked until they heard the carnivorous growling of the Prime’s stomach.

Nekui smiled pridefully, “You must be famished, here, sit down and eat!”  

...

The wizard wracked up a good sized stack of plates before his sitting bones finally rested idle in his chair.  Piqui’s moon-sized eyes showed curiosity in Gildarts, who, while Nekui was talking, found his eyes quite absent, staring off in the distance as though consumed by another, more dangerous thought. Of course danger to this man, was his seduction.

Nekui continued his conversation, and Gildarts and Piqui prodded his words at the right spots, until finally, the mighty Prime was ready to stand. And in turn, ready to go. The lively expression on Nekui’s face fell, almost pleadingly as he looked at Gildarts lead his way out, “You don’t have to go, do you? You can stay as long as you want in order to regain your strength.”

“The offer is appreciated, however I find when I stay in one place too long, I wear out my welcome. The hospitality your village has given to me, is appreciated, here, take this, and rebuild your village to be large and thriving once more.” the Prime held a hefty sack of gold out to the boy, who had extended his hands unknowingly before protesting.

“I couldn’t-”

Gildarts saw himself in the boy, young and free as he once had been. The Prime stooped down to sit on one knee, and placed his hand once more, on the boy’s shoulder, “Your village may need this later too, and do not discredit yourself, you fought hard, the scars of your fight still show on your hands, but they will never leave your heart. Take this as a reward and fill your Sensei’s shoes.”

Nekui’s eyes widened, Gildarts had noticed the bandages sprouting from underneath his black gloves. Gloves the boy had been careful not to promote, itch, or show any agitation, in fact, he had hidden it from the man he had admired, so as to not shoe weakness. The Prime seemed as though he looked at the boy’s extended hands, and instead opted to put the pouch of heavy gold in the boy’s pocket, and better still, for he nearly doubled over at the sudden brick in his trousers.

Tears welled up in Nekui’s eyes, who, after waving good-bye to Gildarts, and watching his cape disappear along the path, brought the money immediately to the chieftain who was second in command.

“This, this will rebuild the entire village, and we can finally have more than enough housing for everyone, our feud with the Menchi will be over, and we can finally live a peaceful life...” The woman gasped, a feeling of immeasurable fulfillment overtook her, and after hearing the story of generosity, she demanded to know where this Prime was now, so that she could thank him herself.

“He has left, he is searching for three things now. The mercenary orc who left him this morning, the malefactor beast that had evaded his capture last night...” Nekui informed.

“And the third thing?” the woman’s low voice inquired, almost hoping that the answer would not be given, for perhaps it would be best to remain that of a mystery, for even now, the possibilities grew in her mind with a flourish of vibrant imagination.

“The third thing, is something that Gildarts will never find, because it cannot be attained. Even by a man as great as he...” the boy’s eyes looked a bit distant now, “Since he can’t look the one place he will find it, and that is, within himself.”

The boy reflected on the courage the Prime had given him, a gift, greater than any he had ever received, and one that would last him the rest of his life. In this treasure, the legendary Prime had bestowed his own greatness, Nekui cherished the steely sensation on his shoulder, like a pat on his back from that of a paternal figure he had never known. It was true, the boy was an orphan, but he was a ninja, and the deeply embedded sense of community never left him. Nor would the weightlessness of the Prime’s confidence in him, for courage was one thing that summoned strength rather than depleted it. This invincible feeling of triumph and pride would dissipate, however its source would never be far from his mind. Of that, the ninja was sure.

The woman was silent now, pondering this and that of the Prime’s charitable character. At least she had a name to remember him by, though the woman wished she had seen his face, she imagined it vividly resplendent and donned in a smile that could only be full of life. The calm soundlessness in the air buzzed with the gentle fervor of invisible life, and it did not matter if the boy ever answered her question, because it had taken her only a single moment to found her own answer.

[Gildarts]

Time rolled along with the gentle breeze that stirred the branches of the surrounding trees. The heavy CLUNK! that sounded in the air every time Gildarts left foot touched the ground, made the weary Prime only more aware at the fatigue reaching his feet. The auburn-haired magus decided it was time to rest, and glanced at a sideways log not too far from the path. Dodging a few trees, and their respective trunks, Gildarts made sure he could still see the path from where he was, before relaxing his mighty gait into a restful sit. He leaned back, and felt the bark of the tree that served as a back to his makeshift wooden chair, itch against his tough skin.

There was a lot to think about. Whompt had ditched him, but this only made Gildarts think that he had a secure lead on the creature they were both seeking to destroy. And then there was that, how did Gildarts know Whompt wanted to destroy it? From what he had seen, Whompt seemed like the mercenary type. The orc had made himself hirable to do jobs, even the dirty ones. Perhaps he had a contract to capture it alive.

There were a million different possibilities all streaming and fleeting consecutively from the Prime’s mind. He never much let it bother him though, since he had a responsibility to first assure that he was not at risk for causing another crash magic cataclysm. At the idea of this, Gildarts felt his face visibly twitch into a hardened glare. The memory in his ears was silent, they had all died so suddenly, there had been no time for them to scream.

A steamy breath came from Gil’s mouth as he exhaled a sigh. The Prime didn’t seem bothered that the air had now chilled to a brisk thirty degrees, but perhaps he was too distracted by the fluent flow of thoughts forming and taking shape with the suspicion he felt from the look in Whompt’s eyes. Piqui, who had been quiet for the most part of the journey, now plopped her head out of the bag and looked kindly at the man. Her kitten eyes glistened despite how the sun had gone missing, and had gotten lost in the clouds.

“Gildarts,” she squeaked, her voice, high-pitched and accompanied by a cat-like purr, “We’ve walked for three days straight looking for this guy, how can you know where you’re going? All the trails coil together, it’s like a maze in here.”

The Prime grunted and stroked the cat behind her chocolate-colored ears, the rest of her fur, was the color of cream, and sometimes when Gildarts looked at Piqui, he thought only of chocolate-chip cookies. “More like a labyrinth, I daresay. But, it’s like I told you Piqui, I am not following Whompt, a Prime like him would be much too difficult to track. He tracks people for a living, you see, but instead, I’m going straight for what he and I both seek.”

“Oh, the orgo-sith?” Piqui’s still kitten-sized teeth prevented her from pronouncing it correctly, “But how do you know where it is?”

Gildarts felt a laugh tickle in his throat and let a smile broaden his cheeks, “Well, if I knew where it was, I think we’d have found it by now, however, I have this hunch...” He was not going to reveal to the youth exceed -one who depended so much on his already unsteady condition- that he actually had spoken to the creature, albeit, through its mind. Gildarts could not mention that he now, still, thought he heard traces of it’s calling. All he could do was chase those traces, for Gildarts had an odd feeling that they had been left for him.

“Gildarts, why don’t we go back to Guu’s place, she might have a lead on it, it’s better than walking around aimlessly in the forest, plus I don’t want to encounter one of those what’s-its again, that was scaaaarrrry.” Piqui wriggled her whiskers and scrunched her nose out of displeasure.

“Hmmm?” his mind had fallen into the ever-calling abyss once more, “Oh you mean the snake? Come on, it wasn’t that bad... Especially compared to that T-Rex. Curious monsters, aren’t they? So very similar to the dragons from our realm.”

“NOT SCARY? Are you blind?! SNAKES ARE TERRIBLE! You just don’t think so cause you’re all big and tall! What about us small people? Huh! D’ya ever think about us? Sure I’ve got wings to fly away from danger, someday, but I can’t yet. Standing next to you makes me feel... Protected, sure, but what if you got trapped in that man-eating rock again? Without you, facing that dinosaur with Nekui, I felt very, very small.”

Gildarts blinked at the exceed’s woes and looked at her earnestly. His hand had stopped stroking her behind the ear, but instead, had clamped firmly on her shoulder, “I’m sorry you feel that way, but you must know now, exactly who I do it for, don’t you?” the charismatic Prime’s gaze never wavered, “Piqui, without your help and courage, I would’ve died in that rock, not to mention, who can imagine what would have happened to some of the surrounding villages near Nekui’s if we hadn’t fought against the monster’s rampage. It wasn’t just me, Piqui, you helped save them too. And look, you’re not even a foot tall, yet you have such a big impact, I’d say that compares quite sizably to that of any person here. Also, Guu isn’t so tall, but you don’t see her complaining about being short.”

“Huh, I never thought you even noticed Guu’s height Gildarts. But, she doesn’t count cause she can get all stretchy!” Piqui protested and extended her arm, willing it ti shoot out as far as Luffy’s had whenever he would punch someone.

“Oh so now you’re saying Guu doesn’t count!?” Gildarts raised his eyebrows, quite shocked, “I think she’s won more battles than I have since I’ve come here. There’s one video on the Dataverse, Molly sent it to me. She sent that fellow off on on his way, though he was as tall as I am.”

“Wait... That’s not fair either!” Piqui had snatched his phone and was gazing at it, though she couldn’t quite type yet, her paws and their pads were much too small and uncoordinated to actually press the keys cleanly.

“I’d say, not fair for that other guy. I think I recognize him though, not sure where I saw him though...” Gildarts pondered and realized he had gotten a bit off topic.

Piqui thought that he was simply being forgetful, like always, and wanted to know where Gilgamesh had met Gildarts. The answer never came, and instead, Gildarts seemed to have crunched his brows together in anguish. “What’s wrong?” she mewed upwards at him, but it was as though the words never fell on his ears.

The man’s deep charcoal eyes looked distant, yet, it was as though he were listening to the sounds of the forest, far beyond what even Piqui’s cat ears could pick up. Her own ears sharpened keenly, though as she steadied herself on the bark, claws extended to better grip the tree, her footing was suddenly lost and she clattered to the ground. A helpless mew came from her as she realized what happened, and unlike a cat, she had not fallen on her four-paws. Still a kitten, her moon-sized eyes wobbled, and she huffed out a gravely somber breath as she attempted to claw her way back up the tree’s grooves.

When she finally made it back up, she saw Gildarts’ expression hadn’t moved an inch, and he had not noticed her shame or sorrow she felt during the fall. This was unacceptable. For the same reason human children cried if they fell to the ground, it was not for the pain, but simply to feel the flush of utter failure consume her. For that fleeting and helpless moment in the fall, Piqui could have died, and it was a mistake that could have cost her this. So she would whimper until the sensation of buzzing fear went away.

Gildarts seemed vaguely aware that the young cat was borderline crying, and suddenly held her close in his arms. Piqui feared she would surely be crushed. The steel one wrapped around his organic one, and pulled the soft fur ball close to his chest. Gildarts had never before resembled a father, comforting his child. Though, if he had stayed just a few minutes longer in his homeworld before he was snatched by Omni, he would have found out the truth, that he had a single daughter, who had grown up without him or his deceased ex-wife.

Instinct however, told him to release with the pressure of his arms. Piqui’s ears quivered as she felt the pain go away with his accepting embrace. Her eyes looked admiringly up at the stubble on Gildarts’ chin. Only one thought was strong enough to shake her away from her whimpering, Piqui could not help but notice that Gildarts was so strong, yet, he had somehow hugged her so gently.

Finally, when Piqui was feeling stronger, as though she had absorbed some of Gildarts’ strength along with his warmth, she wriggled free of his loose cuddle. She looked up, expecting some wise words to come from his stoic mouth, and to see his eyes looking into hers, only to find that his eyes were closed. Gildarts was fast asleep.

Piqui huddled into a little warm ball on his lap, and together their heartbeats fell into the same pace.

...

The dark curtains cast by his eyelids were only opened as he felt the cold chill of water dribbling down the bridge of his nose. Piqui was hissing at the rain, and had taken shelter underneath the back of his cape. The Prime, however, found himself assuming she was in his bag, so when he stood up to grab it, she let out a frightened caterwaul. “GILDARTS!!!”

“Oh, huh, sorry ‘bout that,” was all he could really say, as he lifted up his cape and saw her hanging at the last foot of it, her claws sinking into the fabric and tearing itty-bitty holes in the already frayed edges.

She freed herself, though, it took much longer than either of them expected and then Gildarts began to walk again. Piqui had settled for a place on his shoulder, however, on her perch, she evaded the rain by snatching a little leaf as an umbrella. Had anyone been traveling in the downpour of rain, they would’ve found the pair to be quite the sight.

A tall ginger Prime with a glossed over cloak, soaked in water, and weighing heavily on his shoulders, and on one of them, a cat with wings, using a small leaf for an umbrella. His foot squished with the water in between his toes, and his joints squeaked as they moved. Gildarts’s hair had gotten sloppy, usually it was very well kept -though with all the action he gets into, you’d think the only thing that could possibly keep it that way was magic- yet, now, its color had darkened considerably. It glistened with water, and was nearly as dark as the famed Aragorn’s. It even looked like it a bit too, since it was not straight, but wavy due to the moisture. This did not take away from the Prime’s appearance however, and the chestnut hair rather suited his face and looked very flattering framed around his coffee-colored eyes.

They kept onward, Piqui was feeling rather chilly after an hour’s time, meanwhile Gildarts looked as though he had forgotten about little Piqui, not that she was heavy on his shoulder, however, the way the Prime was walking so diligently, with such smoldering determination in his eyes, would’ve made anyone believe that he had taken no notice of the rain whatsoever, even though it trickled down the back of his neck icily, and had freed his hair of its familiar style.

Piqui wasn’t surprised when this obliviousness worked in his favor -in fact, more often than not, it actually did- and receded back into the only dry place in the rest of the forest, save a few dampened and hollowed out tree trunks and the underbelly of a few dozen, well protected leaves. She huddled in his bag, shaking for warmth, and started to preen the taste of water from her fur.

Meanwhile, Gildarts glided onward, suddenly quicker, as though he was once again onto something...

Onto the Malefactor’s trail.

[Gildarts]

Soon after the rain had stopped, the roads entertained again before leading to a large, muddy fork. The Veteran’s eyes darted from side to side, yet, it seemed neither of the little pathways lead in a satisfactory direction. Gildarts wanted to go straight, and about ten feet up the roads, both split off into ninety degree turns, each leading the opposite way. Between the two parting roads, stood a large tree. It was prolific with spiked purple fruit which weighed heavy on its boughs. Gildarts drew close, as though he were going to pluck one himself. Then, it seemed as though he had found his answer on one of the branches, for he walked away looking quite certain that he should follow the path on the right.

Above the branches on the right side of the the tree, there was a single barren spot, one left by a traveller plucking a fruit as they passed. They had taken it from a place almost taller than his own reach, and Gildarts concluded, though he was not entirely certain, that Whompt, the great orc mercenary, had trodden on the same path.

A bird sang a somber song in the distance. It was black, and looked down rather mournfully at the traveling Prime. “Caw-caw,” it called to the empty forest air. None of its friends seemed to want to respond to it.

Gildarts looked up at it, and paused. There was not a single sound stirring in the dense thicket of trees, yet, every time he had ever heard it rain, and then cease, there was always a thrill of new life brought to forests or deserts or oceans that he had traveled. Yet, the land full of life was as still as the puddles on the ground. The prime fished out his bag, and his hand moved past Piqui’s slumbering form as broke a piece of bread from his supply and set it on the branch next to the bird.

“Thank you, caw,” it purred and its beak snatched around the savory crumb. Gildarts, like any other sane individual, was quite surprised that the animal could speak, however, he was from a land of magic, so he was not about to ask the creature how.

“Say, you haven’t happened to have seen an orc pass by here? He has two large tusks, and uh...” Gildarts had more or less forgotten what Whompt looked like.

However, it seemed this explanation was enough for the raven, who blinked and directed its beady eyes toward the prime with new purpose. It flapped its wings nervously, and its head twitched, “Yes, I saw him, but I hope you aren’t looking for him... Tha’ one’s a mercenary, very, very strong. Well known throughout the land, particularly that of Camelot. Ca-caw.”

Gildarts was no longer looking at the raven and muttered, “I knew he had gone this way...”

“Wait!” the bird squawked and straddled on his still-damp hair, it pecked at him persistently, but not with enough force to draw blood, “The orc... He was... He’s dangerous. Caw. He had an axe mounted on his shoulder, and well... Frankly, the poor brute looked mad. Madder than you, walkin’ about in the rain, though I wouldn’t coun’ him out either. Caw-Caw.”

Gildarts didn’t seem to mind his hair being mangled by the bird, and it sat complacently perched, as though his head had become its new nest. Both their heads bobbed with the sway of Gildarts’ step, and Gildarts offered no response. His eyes tore through the brambles that had grown over the path, and his avid focus practically sliced through the entire messy tangle.

“Didn’t you hear me? Caw-caw! A madman!” the black bird flapped its wings as though it were going to lift Gildarts up with the strength of its wings and its knees, but Piqui finally poked her face out of the bag to see what the commotion was about. A smile curled on her lips as she greeted the new friend, yet the bird’s feet got tangled in its frenzy of trepidation, “C-Cat!? A cat? STAY BACK FOUL BEAST!”

The raven’s wings extended outward and its talons freed themselves from the nest of auburn hair, just in time for cat to have wriggled out of the bag completely. Its sleek black feathers vanished beyond the canopy of leaves and Piqui tilted her head and waved her own wings on her back dismally. “What was that about, and why didn’t he want to stay?”

“I believe, it is because cats and birds are mortal enemies, it didn’t see your wings and took off before you could pounce, I think it assumed you were hungry,” Gildarts finally said.

“Cats... What is..? I’m an exceed, Gildarts, you know that,” Piqui pointed this out, but went back to wiggling her wings. She even managed to float for a few seconds before stumbling to a fall on Gildarts’ shoulder and gripping into his shoulder with talons of her own.

“Now Piqui, I’m going to need you to keep your distance for a little while, I can’t risk you getting hurt, not when I don’t exactly know what is coming next. I can only guess...” Gildarts had that old, wise look about him, one that extended beyond even his forty years of life.

“Y-you’re going to leave me? In the forest... All alone? It’s going to be night soon...” her eyes became very large as she gazed up at him. The day before, they had just talked about weakness and strength. Now, it seemed like Gildarts did not care about the feelings in her heart after all.

However, Gildarts set down his bag and sat down right in front of her with his legs crossed, “What would make you feel safe, then?”

Piqui looked confused, “Uh...”

“Well, I can’t bring you where I’m going, because I don’t know what will happen, but my gut is telling me I’ll soon meet the Malefactor that we’ve been chasing. But it’s also telling me, there is something I must face before I am able to get there. Piqui, when I was in Camelot, there was a magical buildup in my body, and it still continues, yet for some reason, it is slower when you are around. I may need the buildup this time, in order to use it to my advantage.”

“What happened... In Camelot, Gildarts?” Piqui whimpered.

Gildarts’ expression looked as though he had just been pricked with a blade, “Before I knew it, an entire village had been destroyed. This has happened before, but on much more minor scales. I’m probably more dangerous than half of the things in this forest. So, does that make you afraid of me? I could slip at any moment. This is why I travel alone. It is why Ambrosia is my home, but I cannot stay.”

“You... You...” the cat couldn’t find the words, and he wondered how much she had actually pieced together, since she was still quite young and rather naive.

“I wield crash magic. It is incredibly dangerous,” he picked up a deadened branch from the floor of the woods and held it in his palm for a moment. When he was sure her eyes had fixed on it, he let a white light flash in his palm, and suddenly the branch was no more. Instead, cubes an inch in length littered the ground around him.

“Gildarts...” the exceed sympathized with him, “How long have you wielded crash magic?”

“Hm, long enough,” he muttered mostly to himself.

“Wait... Did you ever... Y’know, have a family? A mom an dad? A wife?” Piqui may have thought that Gildarts was only a marauder since his arrival here in the Omniverse.

It seemed, however, that he had some discomfort with one of the words she had said, “I have been traveling and honing my skill since I was young. You can’t exactly stay and grow up in a village if, at any moment, you could cause something very bad to happen. Plus, people would know it, expect it, and I don’t much like it when others think they can know and judge you based off of only a part of you.”

“A box.” Piqui said finally.

“Hm?” Gildarts had risen to a standing position now.

“Will you summon me a box? I also want this box to be able to turn invisible.”

“How will I find you, then? After this is over?” Gildarts asked, looking rather worried, both about his magic, and the well being of the kitten that he had met in the dunes not too long ago.

“You needn’t worry about that, because I’ll find you.”

Gildarts didn’t think about how a kitten exceed was going to find him in a huge forest, and contemplated this for a moment. He could summon a vehicle to bring her back to Ambrosia, but he did not know if this was wise, he didn’t trust transportation usually, and preferred to use his legs. Someday, her wings would carry her far, but for now, they were too small, and they would not be useful in this situation.

He had no choice but to believe her, and despite his better judgement, he had summoned her supplies and gave her a map, “If I’m not back in a few days, you should go back to Nekui’s village, it isn’t very far if you take this route,” his steely finger pointed and Piqui nodded up and down, yet she did not seem like she would have to resort to this, in fact, she seemed certain of it.

“Good luck Gildarts.”

The Prime looked down at her bulletproof enforced, invisible box as she suddenly disappeared from sight, in it he had summoned her a track phone, emergency supplies, and a few other things. Each of them would now part until Piqui, in her mysterious ways, promised to find the Prime once more. As he stepped away, he had an uneasy feeling of doubt squirm in his stomach as he contemplated leaving her, and tried to memorize the spot. He concluded only one thing as he took his first step. This was wrong.

Gildarts picked up his phone now, and decided that Piqui could not be left alone, and if that meant calling someone to find her, and look after her, that is what he would do. “Hey, Piqui,” Gildarts knocked on the box, “I just called Nekui requesting he send someone from his village to get here. His fastest ninja. If I wait a couple of hours here with you, he’ll be here to take you back to Kimichi Village.”

“Hmm. So no box?” Piqui surmised.

“Oh you can keep the box too, I just think this is best, that way you can spend time with the villagers and you don’t have to worry about getting lost in the forest, it’s not a hard thing to do, after all.”

[Gildarts]

Finally the time had come, he met a ninja who had the most marvelous amount of speed, Gildarts could not help but to take notice. Then they were gone in an instant and to Gildarts relief, he was sure Piqui would be safe. He didn’t have to think about the possibility of a dinosaur coming close to stomping on her bullet proof box, and that gave his focus now, to finding Whompt, and to make up for two hours worth of lost time.

It took a while, and by a while, surely the sun had risen and set again before Gildarts finally caught a whiff of food trickling through the trees. With food, there would be people, with people, perhaps there was a village, and if there was a village, there might be information. The prime sauntered into the small hamlet and let his eyes glide throughout the deserted homes of whatever beings had gone on living here. There were little shacks and tents, fires cooking food. Meanwhile, the scent of burning and overcooked food, as well as flames that licked at the stones inhibiting their leap from the pit, onto unburnt earth.

It wasn’t long before Gildarts finally realized the entire place was deserted. The air however, still buzzed fresh with life, and Gildarts felt as though he had just walked in on a disaster in the making. With balled fists, he marched through the scene, his shoulders tensed and his stance appeared ready for any challenge. Yet nothing could have prepared him for this.

A towering shadow was cast over one of the tents, its silhouetted shape was vaguely familiar, it had hefty clothing on it, yet smooth bare arms. Over his shoulder, a mighty axe, and protruding from the creature’s face, were two dark spears.

The orc’s movements were rigid and starchy, his muscles flexed and convulsed at odd intervals, leaving Gildarts to believe that there was something happening within his body. Even in the circumstances, he would not have guessed that the source lay in the mind. Beyond the shadow of the orc’s shape was plastered against the flickering fabric of the abandoned tent, and within the confines of the warrior’s skull, there was a faint whispering. It was ominous, and spoke of temptation to act on the darkest sin.

Grunts of rage and ruthless bellowing howled from the beast. Gildarts did not immediately jump in front of the beast, an orc’s brute strength was one that rivaled his own crash magic, and Gildarts was not eager to clash with a situation he did not fully understand.

Meanwhile, past the orc’s ears, Whompt was feeling a struggle like nothing he had ever experienced before. Turmoil, chaos, devastation, each churned within the orc all at once and spread immense vexation throughout his entire body. Rage that the warrior was all too familiar with, for he harnessed only previously during battle and used it advantageously with adrenaline, to fight and to win. Yet now, it was battling him. Within, the swirling of emotion and thick stirring of blood, hissing with the whispers as insanity coated his insides with fire and set him ablaze with ideas of war.

“SHUDDUP!” the orc howled and clutched his head, his hammer had fallen from his grasp and sliced a gaping hole in the ground. The orc continued to growl and release all the anger that continuously built up within him as the Malefactor spoke words that appealed to him, death, murder, and endless massacre formed in his mind. It was not long before war became less horrible than murder, and blood-red became the ideal paint of pleasure.

A roar erupted from his curled lips, and bellowed out into the empty sky. There was no one to attack now and the brute knew it. Though, the orc searched frantically, he had scared them all away, somehow, they had escaped his clutches and left the town with the clothes on their backs; now he was thrashing at the empty tents of the village, “WHERE-ARE-YOU?!” Whompt’s familiar voice carried over the flat land, however, there wasn’t a particular person he was searching for, now, it became a deep and unquenchable craving within him. The sensation to wreak havoc would not die, his darkest and most deadly desire was to draw blood, to feel the heat of battle, to become the essence of war, and to experience the newfound power the monster had given him. “Well... This is a start...” Whompt’s voice sounded different now. Something about his voice had turned less savage and more dark.

Suddenly, the thrashing of tents had stopped, and the wizard heard a terrified scream, “Mommy! Help me!”

A child had been left, or strayed back into his home, hoping to collect his most prized possession. The boy had green skin and pointed ears, much like the orc towering above him. In the time it took Whompt to raise his axe, Gildarts had moved between the orc child and Whompt. The malefactor had not left the axe-wielder’s eyes glazed, like that of a bewitched man or T-rex, but instead, tainted scarlet with anger. The vessels in his sinewy body bulged outward, and Gildarts had narrowed his eyes, while his steel hand had been raised up, stopping its descent high above their heads.

There had been almost enough momentum on the swing down that would have cut through the Prime’s metallic arm, an eruption of scrapes clawed at each of their ears. Gildarts winced, while Whompt was too influenced by chaos to notice, and the child was covering his ears, cowering in fear as he shivered and realized he was inches and but a swing from death. Gildarts had placed himself in the way, and against the seething blade of the axe but the weight was becoming extremely hard to bear, Gildarts heard his own gruff voice cut through the climbing shrieks and command the green skinned boy to, “Go.”

The child scampered off, teddy in hand and tears still in his eyes, while the two Primes were left in the tent, “I always knew it had to be this way, Gildarts. E’er since I firs’ laid eyes on ya, I always knew I’d have t’ fight ya,” slowly, a smile grew from below the orc’s tusks, “And now... I can put this power to the test.”

It was strange hearing Whompt’s familiar voice pronounce such an intention, Gildarts kept his lips sealed. More pressure was applied to the axe, which had the better angle, slowly bearing down on the mage’s steel joint, with the force. There was immediate pain. It was as though his appendage was now no longer smooth as it met his skin, but serrated as though the joint of his shoulder had been sliced by a rusty knife, and had drawn blood.

“It does not have to be this way, you can fight the creature, there’s no need to let it win. No one has to die today.” Gildarts sounded wisely determined, yet his voice was stern, careful to let out any words that sounded like weakness, he did not want to give Whompt any reason to keep going or spark his unsound mind further.

“Let ‘im win? Fight ‘im? No Gild, it is I who has won today. I’ve never fel’ this way in my entire life, and now you want me to [i]renounce it? No... No I think not. Instead, I think I’ll beat ye to a pulp, an’ then I’ll find m’self someone bigger than a scrawny lil human. Always wanted someone worthy to test m’own strength on, ‘is almost fitting that you ended up bein’ my first after I fought by yer side.” Whompt’s crooked teeth boasted an excited smile, “Oh and that’s where you’re wrong, Gil’arts. Today i’s your turn to die.”

Gildarts did not protest, and nearly felt his own anger and magic swell. There was a small moment in this pause, one where their eyes clashed and static seemed to fly. The world around the two fighters grew soundless and dim, letting even the light of the fire fall away, and only these two men existed in their connected fury. One who had the will to fight and the means to destroy, the other who desired nothing more than a bloody, bloody massacre. He who had lost control of his own will. Whompt and the Malefactor wanted but a single thing, and that was a challenge. By the fierce look in Gildarts’ eyes, Whompt knew that was one thing Gildarts could offer, that he would put up a fight. At least, before the wizard’s inevitable demise.

The tent flickered in the darkness around them, yet to their eyes, their surroundings had all fallen away. Instead, Gildarts felt an increased sense of gravity pricking in his toes, there was added pressure and weight in the places where the treads of his boots slid as they met the next layer in the ground. Somewhere in Whompt, there was an obvious overflow of untapped power. His strength was only now just being summoned, and already, Gildarts felt overwhelmed. Within a blink, the world had been brought back into the light, the clash of their eyes had shifted to that of flesh, and the world was given orange-tinged color once more.


As Whompt let the power follow through in his swing, Gildarts let his magic burst forth, from him, the rock beneath the mage’s feet crackled and began to fall away. Whompt saw an opening and took it. Instead of using his axe however, the brute saw Gildarts had been struggling with holding himself upright under its force, and went in for an easy shot. Ivory tusks rammed into the wizard’s good shoulder, who felt his teeth chip in his mouth as he grated them too harshly together. The jagged slice of his flesh ripped away some of the muscle and tendons, the tusk clashed with bone before the orc tore it away. A jagged wound was left pouring from the wizard’s shoulder and pristine ivory, once clean, was now stained with wine-colored blood.

Instead of letting Whompt have the upper hand, Gildarts rammed a head-butt right back into the orc’s psychotic expression, hoping to wipe the smile of gore-induced satisfaction right off his face. Gildarts felt himself stagger back, yet Whompt seemed well planted on the ground, and did not back up, though his expression wrinkled with acute disgust.

There was grease in his eyes now -or was that blood?- Gildarts blinked and attempted to escape, it was now no longer sustainable for him to attempt to hold the axe upright against his own muscle, for, the wizard feared, that his own strength would not be enough to stop it from falling. A sudden burst of speed erupted from the bleeding man, who now lurched out of his position with a quick bounce. He let the axe fall, slicing a few hairs from his head and tearing a gaping hole in his cloak that had not caught up with his speed, then his coiling muscles thrust a heavy blow into the Orc’s leather armor.

Not so much as a struggled breath was taken from the mercenary, meanwhile Gildarts felt the knuckles of his hand throb. This enemy, Gildarts was already finding out, would be one of the strongest he had ever faced. Compared to the dragon, which had stolen two of his limbs all those years ago, the orc paired with the Malefactor would prove to be worth two.

A flash of fist burst into his line of sight. The air in Gildarts’ lungs had gone, evaporated with the delivery of a single blow, yet his body had gone flying, steamrolling into tree after tree. Thuds of hollow noise followed as hardwood smashed against his head. In the flicker between wincing blinks, Gildarts saw the orc intended to follow up on his attack, but his rampage was a bit heeded by the slow shuffling of his legs.

Gildarts clenched his teeth and tasted blood on his tongue, he had bit it, and not felt anything aside from the blaring ebbing throbs from his head. Seeing no other option, the prime launched himself from the ground into a decent sized leap and took the time to really look at his opponent. A balled fist formed in his hand, it grew with a hue of white magic as his astute brown eyes decided where to aim. His well-trained eye chose, and his body was influenced by gravity, pulling him quickly down. The wizard used this excess force to his advantage, and pulled it swiftly above his head as the fistful landed heavily on the orc’s upper torso.

A grunt of dissatisfaction came from the orc’s mouth as immediately, the thick-skinned foe did not even stagger, and Gildarts felt himself picked up by a single one of the brute’s hands as though he were nothing more than a sack of flour. The auburn-haired prime was flung into the ground with a rippling of shattering earth beneath him. “Wot is the matter, Gildar’s? Have you lost yer will to fight?” Whompt sneered as Gildarts’ torso was stomped into a few times, grating the earth below the mage’s spine into rubble.

Gildarts drew heavy breaths, and had felt the snap of a few of his ribs, which proved to  be nothing but twigs to Whompt and his newfound power. Gildarts found it within himself to grasp the orc’s ankle out of protest, for he was pinned and could to little else. But Gildarts could not lift the orc, no matter how much force he put into the point on his ankle, nothing would buckle him. “Is that all you got?”

If he didn’t do something soon, Gildarts would be the first of many of the Malefactor’s victims, at least in Whompt’s form, where the creature was nearly indestructible. The wizard attempted to lift up Whompt’s foot which was causing his broken ribs to poke into his lungs, the leaden stench of blood was all Gildarts could smell as he attempted to lift the foot upward. After a moment, Gildarts found he got about six inches upward before Whompt brought another blow crushing down on him,  a savage grin erupted on the fiend’s face, “At this rate, I won’ even need m’axe!”

After this beastly thrashing, Gildarts deliberated even standing back up again. He had been backed into a corner before, but nothing quite like this. Yet, part of Gildarts, even through the pain, felt thrilled and he too chose to rise to the challenge. Immediately a faint glow poured out from Gildarts, and it would soon take its effect, in order to stand, Gildarts had to use both of his hands on the single leg that had pinned him like a bug, one clasped on the orc’s ankle, the other, forcefully just below the knee. Due to the pressure applied to the points with perfect trajectory, the orc stumbled forward and had to readjust his footing. This gave Gildarts the time he needed to stand, and as he wiggled free from being deeply embedded in the rock, vibrations now coursed through the air.

The effect it had on the orc was not one Gildarts anticipated, Gildarts however, did not waste any time. Whenever Gildarts let his magic flow from his body, there seemed to be some kind of influence on his opponent, however, while Whompt did seem effected, the fiend’s gaze stayed steady on Gildarts while he pounded into the orc with a barrage of knuckles.

“You may have scared the orc, but you can’t trick me, now however, I’ll have to bring out the axe,” a sly grin coated the enemy’s face, and there was no mistaking the intelligence in the Malefactor’s control over the orc, who still seemed vapidly immobilized. It wouldn’t last much longer than this, but at least Gildarts stood a chance. The auburn-haired prime braced himself, and there was another crashing blow upon him. In his ears he heard This is a fight you can not win yet Gildarts knew that this was a battle that he would have to either win or die.

A shockwave of force slammed into the wizard’s scruffy jaw, it probably would have shattered, had the Prime not already been in the process of jumping backwards to avoid it. Now, however, Gildarts had given Whompt enough space to draw his axe high above his head. Gildarts had no choice but to parry this attack, and with this, a wave of energy erupted from the prime and sent Whompt hurtling backwards. Trees crackled loudly around the orc who grunted, “Good ‘un,” and took a fierce stance once more.

Blows exchanged for five minutes, and the number of trees and houses they had trampled increased exponentially. The whole village was in ruins, and fire had caught on a few nearby pine trees. The scent found Gildarts’ nose and the fire blazed with orange behind Whompt, there was no denying that Gildarts was slowly being worn down by the sheer power of the mercenary, who had a symbiotic creature at his disposal. Each had years of experience fighting, battling, and winning. This was the duel of all duels and Gildarts soon regarded the orc as nothing but a hasty ruffian, nothing like a dragon. This small hope kept the doubts of his demise at bay, and Gildarts found he could use this animalistic tendency to his advantage.

Now the two fighters danced on the flames, Whompt yelped and jumped back as the flames bit into his flesh. He as particularly angered by the fire, and Gildarts used this to stomp a few blows into his foe. Beats of sweat stung into his wounds and cluttered his eyesight, already blurry from fatigue. It was a wonder how the prime was even standing, in the face of certain devastation. His body had been ripped and mangled, tears of blood splattered most corners of his visible skin, and his cloak had been lost in the throes of battle. He could dodge some of the orc’s hasty movements, but not all of them were as predictable as Gildarts would have liked. A few slices of flesh had been nicked too close to the bone, the only part of Gildarts body that wasn’t stained with crimson was his metallic arm, which seemed to be the only one still functioning. The other laid limp at his side, a tendon had been sliced by the axe -though Gildarts was lucky the whole arm hadn’t been torn off- and it would not move. Armless, standing on a single leg, Gildarts fought through the blood and sweat that leaked into his eyes. Whompt cackled with amusement, though it seemed he was growing tired of the cat-and-mouse game that it was all too evident as to who was winning.

The orc’s laughter resounded over the fiery backdrop and once again Gildarts saw the silhouette of pure evil, and was reminded of the orc’s attempt to murder a helpless child, “As long as I’m around, I won’t let you kill any more people.” Gildarts spoke directly to the Malefactor who was possessing Whompt, hoping, maybe, to reach the orc’s logic, though that had gone out the window.

“Oh? You won’t? Mighty Gildarts, doomed to fall. Well, I’ll just have to end this quickly then, and I was having so much fun smashing your face in.” The voice, as Gildarts noticed, was once again coherent from start to finish, less of Whompt’s accent had been left behind. Leading Gildarts to believe that the Malefactor had swallowed up the individual completely.

“No,” Gildarts offered a weakened smile as the red light of fire shined on the silver mirror of the axe, “You’ve already lost. Whompt’s not an ideal candidate for you, even you know his body won’t last. It’s like the dinosaur, the ninja, and the elf chief you already took over. You consumed too much, and now once your time is used up in him, you’ll have no where else to go.”

“Is that what you think you’ve been doing this whole time, Prime?” the creature spat, too disgusted to say Gildarts’ name.

Gildarts found himself revitalized in spirit, and watched the curtain of fire grow at Whompt’s. It had been a minute, when suddenly the orc felt a punch, one that was well-centered in the middle of his chest cause him to stumble an inch backwards. Whompt’s toes caught fire, and an enraged face smoldered with more vehemence than the flames licking his feet. Meanwhile, Gildarts measured his time dearly, and hadn’t hesitated to thrust his fist into the bark of a sizzling pine. Immediately it collapsed in the direction the wood had split, and Gildarts added a little kick to steer the timber on course. Whompt was pinned to the inferno by the flaming tree. Gildarts, thought he had enough time to stop and ask, “Stop this. Now!”

Mistaken, however, Gildarts was flung back by his own log of fire and Whompt’s eyes resembled what had caused his skin to so deeply burn. “HOW DARE YOU MARK MY NEW BODY?!” Gildarts felt the soft sizzle of his blood against his skin, however he threw off the log as soon as he could, narrowly avoiding any deep burns.

Heavy, irrationally aimed swings came flying forth at Gildarts in rapid succession. Some shaved off strands of his arm hair, others drew more blood, but none were fatal enough to end the battle. Gildarts was on defense, and kept leaping backward, only invigorating the orc’s rage like a waving flag of red in front of a bull. “YOU. WILL. PAY. WITH. BLOOD.” his nostrils flared with steam.  

The swiftness of the battle had caught up to Gildarts, who was heaving in breaths just so that he would avoid the slice of the axe through the air, swings that spanned just inches from his vitals. Sure, he had caught up with the steady flow of battle, and found Whompt’s movements had become unstable and predictable, even using the fire to his advantage. But his body was reluctant to keep up. All it would take was one miss-step and-

A cliff.

Gild’s foot teetered on the edge, and his eyes slid down to their corners to catch just how far he was prone to fall as his body swiveled to avoid gravity’s nagging pull. He was forced to realize that it would be too far for him to survive, it had to be a hundred... Two hundred or more feet to the ground. The trees of the forest below looked like bushy specks of green. A knot tied in his stomach and crumbs of rock clattered past his heel.

The Prime’s organic arm reached outward, only to block a solid swing from the orc’s axe. It was enough to push Gildarts back, right off the edge his toes had grasped for dear life. Suddenly, he was all too aware of the weight of his body, and his silver fingers felt for the rock in front of him before his skin could get too comfortable with how the gust of death had brushed against him. His stomach still fluttered as he dared to open his eyes.

The curtain of black had opened to a craggily surface of stone. Gildarts got his bearings by simply looking up, and seeing by what a narrow save it had been. The gleam of silver reflected only by the moon, and yet, just beyond his fingertips, he saw Whompt’s tall beastly form towering over him. His smile too, shimmered in the moonlight, while his eyes still appeared crazed with energy for battle. The axe raised threateningly over the fingers Gildarts could not feel, and Whompt could not resist sending Gildarts off with a bang. “Looks like you’ve met your end, I would’ve liked to hear your neck snap between my hands, but, bloodshed is bloodshed, and it doesn’t matter if I kill you, or the ground does it for me.”

Gildarts felt his eyes plead desperately for Whompt to come back alive, and perhaps fight the creature that had taken over, yet, there was nothing, not an ounce, of the orc left in the  beady black eyes that reflected back at him. A sigh escaped Gildarts’ lips as he spoke clearly so that Whompt could hear him, “Sorry, friend.”

The puzzling expression on Whompt’s face was the last thing Gildarts could remember, for when Gildarts had willed his other hand to move, it agreed, and delivered a crashing blow to the rock all around them. The shaking of the earth below Whompt’s feet had thrown him off balance, but the swoop of destruction was too quick and suddenly Whompt was flung with other cube-sized rocks over the magic-wielder’s shoulders, and plunged into the abyss.

This was the least of Gildarts’ worries, and while he was sure Whompt wouldn’t be waking up from this fall any time soon, Gildarts had also blasted away his only foothold on the cliff. Luckily, he had released his grip just as the rock exploded, so that he fell and avoided being thrown from the cliff as Whompt was. There was little hope for his friend, who was falling too quickly to his death, Gildarts saw over his shoulder, that the orc and his axe had been enveloped by the distinguished branches of bushy green trees.

Gildarts was now thankful his metal arm remained intact, for it was the only thing that would stop him from falling with the rocks that clattered against his shoulders. Scrapes of metal, much like the ones that he had started his battle with Whompt, filled his ears once more. This time, it was never ending, Gildarts heard the rock slowly chaffing against his metal hand, and eroding his last usable appendage. The ride was rough, but he had slowed his speed down quite a bit, now, he would risk losing his arm by punching his fist straight into the stone, for the ground was turbulently spiraling into his gaze.

Rock was smashed and more or less, Gildarts had hooked himself into the stone of the wall. Propelled by force, however his face was smashed straight into the cliff. He heard the popping ”crack” of his nose breaking, and blood spewed down from his face as he dangled but fifteen close feet into the ground. The Prime’s face was numb, shattered by the rock, but not broken enough so that he could not move his eyelids up. Torturous agony rippled through his body, and the adrenaline that was roaring in his ears so violently had slowed, bringing back his awareness to the gentle, dulcet tones of birdsong as the morning sun began to break on the horizon. Sunlight shimmered on the victorious Prime’s arms, and was immediately consumed by the black soot and dried blood that covered nearly every inch of him.

Too weary to move, he merely shifted his eyes around and saw the ground, covered in rock shards and evenly cut cubes. Such was the destruction of his magic. He had nearly died, the idea of the though rattled him. Had this cliff not been here for him to grasp onto, he would have died. Which reminded him, with a sudden pang of guilt flourishing in  the pit of his stomach, Where was Whompt?

That also begged the question, where was the orgosynth? If the only way to get the creature out of Whompt was to defeat him, surely, Gildarts had done it. Whompt, if he was still alive, could be healed, if there was time. Gildarts soon wiggled free of the wall, though his inorganic hand nearly had to be pulled off of his shackled joint in order for this to happen. He felt his wounds slowly healing, however, this made them throb even more, since the sealing and regrowing of flesh could only be compared to molten flames resting inescapably on his skin.

The world thundered as his feet met with the ground, and wobbled beneath him. Gildarts let his eyes take over, as his body would only be forced to take a few steps forward at a time.

“Whompt?”

No answer.

But the feeling was coming back to his other arm. Gildarts searched for quite a while, tossing about the underbrush, tearing through tangled vines, and overturning rocks that looked like they could have pinned a man below. Nothing.

“Tch...” Gildarts eyes were getting foggy again, and though the sun was already high in the air, he felt as though the world was dimming. Through the mess of darkness and trees that cluttered his sight, Gildarts saw a small pile of clothing, which, as he neared, he found that it belonged to a lumpy form. Gildarts recognized him immediately, and looked at the sore wound that had been caused by a falling rock, it had caused a deep wound into the orc’s thick skull. There was too much blood, Gildarts felt his voice quiver, “Whompt.”

...

An ear had been pressed to the orc’s chest, and with the steady rise and fall of his diaphragm, Gildarts found that the orc was unconscious, though badly injured in several different areas. It was a miracle that he survived, however, now Gildarts had to think of two things, Where was the Malefactor? and if it was in him, Would it even be worth it to get him treated?

Such were the thoughts of a man who had had no choice but to battle his ally on their mission to defeat the malefactor, little did Gildarts know, that a parasite could not be defeated so easily as its host.

There was a blur of motion, which sprung from nowhere and a rustle of bushes that was left in the speedy dust of the creature. A blob of black covered Gildarts face, and soon, Gildarts found his ears filled with a whispery voice, it spoke to him of conquest, of power, of glory. It spoke to him of wars worth fighting and the immense value of friendship that it could offer by being by his side. It spoke of power, devastating power, one created by Omni himself, “All this an more.... Iffff you let me in...”

Gildarts growled, disgusted by the thought of taking a handout, he had experienced enough power for a lifetime, and he had faced the consequences a hundred times before, “You. Evil. Monster!”

“Evil? No, ambitious? Yes, of course, why wouldn’t I have them? You could have ambitions too you know, set astray by fear of your own power, fear of setting it free. You could finally live. I can abolish that fear you hold onto too tightly and give you the glory you’ve dreamed of... I can also give you control, for I too have wielded immense power, and know just how to control it. You see Gildarts, I see your secrets now, I’ve known them for a long time. You heard my voice calling to you in the forest, you’ve longed to be free of your cursse, which keeps you on the move, black sheep, running for your life, for fear of taking others down with you.

Well, you nearly killed your friend over there, and would have, had I not been inhabiting him. You might even say I saved his life... But the others you have killed, more innocent than he, they will not have suffered in vain, for you, Gildarts, are the most eligible host I have met in a long time. Don’t you see, you can’t kill me? I am immortal just as you are. But you can shield me, and use me for whatever purpose you seek. Who’s hands would you rather me be in?”

Gildarts clenched his teeth, and remained silent. The stoic man shook his head, but was directed to look at Whompt’s body. He thought of the rash spread of stories throughout the forest, of the villages devastated, and he did not think it was intentional that disaster had struck with the orgosynth’s travels, but, like the symbiotic creature had said, merely a case of misguided ambition. He thought of all the death he could prevent by just simply biding the creature’s time, and felt his head hang heavier than ever. It was still a choice. It was his choice.

A chorus of chaos called to him.

And he plunged into the darkness. [/i]

[Gildarts]

Darkness, it was murky and yet somewhat bleak. Suddenly, it felt like his inside were shaking, Swish-swish... Swish-swish. The man shivered and suddenly his body felt lighter, the sense of fatigue lifted from his shoulders, and the gauntness of his skin from the amount of blood he had lost during the battle had started to shimmer with pigment once more. It wasn’t an instant cure, however, it was enough to take notice of.

So... Are you ready to have some fun... Gildarts? The voice called to him, practically snickering, and this time, from within his own head. Gildarts shuddered, he didn’t like having to share the same space with such a distraction. He grumbled to himself and assured himself this is what had to be.

He did not respond to the Malefactor.

It seemed disgruntled in its silence, but did not protest, perhaps it was flexing its own space from within the confines of the Prime’s mind and Gildarts had since regained his sight. A flood of green wavered in front of his eyes. Bright sunlight bore down on him and Gildarts was reminded again of the stinging of rubble that had stuck into his wounds. Beyond his shoes, lay the body of Whompt, who was fatally injured, but not dead.

The Fairytail wizard heaved himself up on two legs and wobbled as his foot extended his balance onto the flat ground. Next, the Prime tossed the mighty orc - who was, in fact, even larger than Gildarts - right over his shoulder, and with another sigh, the wizard was on his way, and strode off in a random direction, but not one that would clash with the mighty cliff he had fallen from. Eventually the Prime made it to a road, which carried him, with the diligence of his feet, to the nearest village.

“Greetings, I need... Well my friend here needs...” his brow crinkled in thought, his voice sounded suddenly, so different, or perhaps it was his ears that were blocked with blood that made things

A black-clothed villager swiftly took off and appeared to go and get someone who had the training to treat the orc, “Yes, we’ll get to him right away.” Gildarts was too caught up in his own thoughts to realize that he had strolled right into the makeshift village of Kimichi, the home of Nekui, the boy ninja Gildarts had met earlier in his mission, and perhaps most importantly, where Piqui was staying until further notice.

“HEY EVERYONE, IT’S GILDARTS!” the boy rushed over, and then stopped about a yard away from the crimson-painted prime, “Oh uh... D’you need medical attention? Since that donation you gave us, we were able to start building a hospital in addition to the other buildings...”

The words the ninja had spoken hadn’t been fully absorbed by Gildarts, whose mind was still buzzing from the events, but it didn’t matter, because the doctor came back not a moment later. “This way, please...” the woman wore more magenta themed attire, and lead the way to the building, it was just a couple of brisk strides to his right. The doctor woman did not offer Gildarts a stretcher to place the orc, and instead lead the both of them straight inside, Nekui followed too, intrigued.

...

“D’ya think he’ll be alright?” the ninja’s eyes were on the green-skinned orc, but he asked no one in particular.

“He’s a prime, he will live, but somethin’ out there gave him a good thrashin’ I’d say,” the doctor spoke and appeared to be watching the hesitancy of the orc’s breaths. “Now, onto you.” her gaze was directed at Gildarts, who appeared flummoxed. He looked over his shoulder and his eyebrows raised quizzically.

“Yes you, I can see that you have at least two broken ribs, how’d you manage that?”

Gildarts blinked. “Well...” Suddenly putting what had happened into words, and not scaring the boy in the room, seemed like an impossible task.

“I know how he did it! He was fighting the Malefactor! Well Gildarts, did ya win?” Nekui’s eyes wobbled and shimmered with the hope of a child.

Gildarts felt a nagging in his stomach. How could he say that he won? Not when...The threat was still there. Not out in the forest, but this time, within him, he had perhaps even given the creature the key to infinite massacre, however, the more Gildarts thought about it, the more he was convinced that the Malefactor had the means to seize control of him. It was better that he bide his time, until at least, a more permanent solution could be found.

A prodding at his ribs caused Gildarts to wince instinctively. “Sorry, and don’t pester the man Nekui, he’ll need to be bandaged and I doubt he’ll want you to have to watch and see the gore of his battle that he must now wear on his skin.”

“Uh... Oh I see. Would you prefer if I come back when you’re bandaged?” Nekui asked, disappointed.

“Have you seen Piqui?” was all Gildarts said, his mind had moved off once more, and he was looking at a corner of the room as though they were distant clouds.

“Yes, actually, I’ll go get her.” the ninja scampered off, soundlessly.

[Gildarts]

A few days rest did a man and -particularly a Prime- wonders. His wounds had sealed, his ribs had more or less healed, and any day now the pain would finally yield.

On the bed to his left lay the orc, who had had take a gnarly rock to the head. He had only just awoken this morning. He had slept so long and deeply, his slumber resembled that of a coma. Whompt had risen while Gildarts was gnawing on a small bite of bread and steak. The scent had stirred his senses and sparked the hunger of his stomach. A meal was sitting next to him, which he took reluctantly. The two Primes broke their bread in silence while the Orc huffed down his plate.

After the slurping sounds had passed with the final close of the orc's chomping jaws, he flexed his fingers, muscles in his hands to the tendons in his toes and grunted as though to say, "good enough" before the other prime in the room finally caught his eye. "Oi."

Gildarts looked up, he had finished his meal much quieter, and much faster than the Orc who had not eaten for days. By the look in the mercenary's dark eyes, Gildarts could tell that Whompt remembered what had happened. The burns on is green skin had been covered with ace bandage and gauss, which he was now unraveling with ambivalence where little to no traces of pain touched his face.

After the rolls of white had been removed, and the last shedding of his mummified wraps lay in a mound in the ground, Whompt wordlessly sized Gildarts up, and put two and two together. Based on the serene yet bracing expression that hung between the lines of the Fairytail wizard's face, Whompt knew that after Gildarts had driven the Malefactor from the orc's infested body, that he had taken possession of it. And it was not the other way around. It was not as it had been for the Orc, for Gildarts wasn't transformed into... Well, a bloodthirsty monster that was no better than a nameless fiend.

A few steps carried Whompt over to Gildarts' stretcher, but now, he too had risen. The warriors' eyes met, their shoulders stood stern, as their confidence's static met man to orc, filling the room.

On Whompt's lower lip, a curl pulling downward was formed, it resembled dissatisfaction, and just as Gildarts seemed like he was about to say something regarding what had happened, the Orc shoved his hand out and took Gild's good one, seizing it to deliver a powerful handshake. "We will meet again, wizard."

The words were not a threat, and Whompt bounded out of the room after collecting his gleaming axe. His steps seemed to be weighed slightly with a heavier pride, for his wounds managed healed a bit faster than Gildarts' had.

"What was that all about?" Piqui's head shot out of the pillow case as Gildarts moved into a stretch.

"Ready to go?" He asked her.

"Sure but I was ready three days ago, there's this other cat here who thinks she owns the place!" Piqui squeaked and made her way up to Gildarts' bandaged shoulder, "And you were ready too, what kept you? Or was it because you wanted to see Whompt off? He didn't even say good bye to me, I-"

She was silenced by the telling look in his eyes. "I know," he began but never seemed to finish.

"So shall we go?"

"Let's."



... After a long creeping silence, the nurse came in and exclaimed a shriek of terror, "BOTH MY PATIENTS ARE GONE!"

[Gildarts]

Epilogue.

Whompt grunted as he made his way through a path that parted through the forest. It was partly a disbelieving scoff to himself, and another part a relief as he looked down at his once-deep wounds and his still-moving body, which told the orc that he was alive.

As far as the mercenary was concerned, the chapter in his life involving the Malefactor had closed in that hospital room, it’s newest host, Gildarts. Whompt saw the way Gildarts fought, honorably, with power, and even the orc could not doubt that Gildarts had something that could not be taken away easily. Still, Whompt had wanted the Malefactor for himself. As soon as his ears had heard the first leak of its emancipation, he could not help but to go after it. To have more power as a mercenary might just guarantee a better pay, and more nameship throughout the verses. It was only a matter of luck that the orc had been hired along the way, while he was investigating the Malefactor, that he encountered an elf.

This elf’s village had been destroyed, so Whompt, passing through and gathering intel on the creature, had conveniently pronounced his profession when the elf had said the ringing phrase, “I wish I could find someone to go after it.” Even the orc found himself grinning at that point, for it was all just too easy.

Now, however, Whompt had to deliver the news, however, he could assure to the elf, what was his name... Richard? That it was at least in the hands of someone who might hold it with better, more sparing care. As far as Whompt knew, Gildarts was across the verses by now, one traveler to another, the orc knew how a single mission could take a man far away from his home. In some respects, the merc’s mission was completed, since the Malefactor would do no immediate harm. Whompt reflected on Gildarts, who sat relaxed, but restlessly in the hospital bed. Then, the orc thought about their journey across the ‘Greens together, and found himself smiling under his ivory tusks.

The wizard, he thought, was a good man. There was however, a bitterness on his mind and licking at the orc’s gut when he thought about how Gildarts had retained the treasure he had so diligently worked for. Finally, the orc sourly concluded that if he could not have it, (after too, reflecting on the near-immediate rampage where the orc had no control over his body), Whompt was glad Gildarts did, for he was, indeed, worthy.

How had the orc come to this conclusion? There was still a pang of defeat when he thought of the rival Prime’s name, yet, Whompt knew how to judge a warrior as well as any, and in a battle of life and death, he would take no other Prime for his partner.

The face of the cat flashed into his mind, and he was reminded that Gildarts already had a partner, no matter how small. A strange thought, that such a mighty warrior would choose such a small... Creature, to accompany him on his travels. Whompt preferred the sound of solitude, which rattled and buzzed with the call of the forest, much more than he liked a companion’s nagging voice telling him which road to take, which food to eat today, and which job that he would be best suited for. The orc grunted and blew air through his bulging nostrils passionately. Gildarts, had been an amusing partner, for the short duration he had had him. Somehow, Whompt could not keep the idle thought from his mind, that those were the days...

The orc trudged on, and as he did, his wounds shimmered like fairy dust, and dissipated in the wind. Whompt knew the many avenues of the Tangled Green, very well, made it back to the elven village before the sun dipped below the horizon, and the stars had yet to be covered in a blanket of black.

Sparingly, the nomad summoned some water, and guzzled as he drank gallons from the leather canteen. Ahhhhhhh. It was refreshing, however, when the orc opened his mouth to breathe a sigh of release, and thought that he would be glad to be done with this entire ordeal, it came out more like an angry howl and silenced all of the nearby nightbirds, “ARGGGHHHH!”

This call, alerted the guards outside of their makeshift gate, for the Malefactor had used someone’s body as a host, to destroy his home’s village. It was a sad thing, the tragic stories, the creature’s own existence, for he could never ascend to what power he wanted most. The power of man.

“W-WHO GOES THERE?!” the elvish guard readied an arrow on the brow of his bow.

“It’s jus’ me. I’m here returning from the quest you hired me fer.” Whompt wasn’t going to reveal all his cards, out in the open, that wasn’t how good business was done.

“H-have you brought it?” there was sudden fear sparking in his eyes, he lowered his bow slightly, but not all the way, it was still trained on the orc’s shoes when Whompt growled.

“Yeh gonn’ let me in or wot?” the orc’s face looked mighty terrifying in the shadows of the dark, flickering flames of nearby torches cast some dramatic pools of darkness in the hollows of Whompt’s beady eyes, making them more strikingly carnivorous than normal.

“Yes sir, I’ll get Richard.” Humph, an elf named ‘Richard.’ The gate made of... huh, vines and brambles, however very sharp with intertwined thorns, rose above the orc’s head.

The orc’s tongue had gone dry, despite all the water he had just swallowed. It had been a long, long time since he had so drastically failed a mission. He would deliver the news, straight and outright, and hopefully be on his way, he did not want to be in the Tangled Green, for it reminded him of his arduous journey, that had reaped no results.

Soon the orc was brought to a small meeting room, and Richard, a shorter elf with long, well-kept, silver hair was gazing back at him from a chair, across a too-small table for the orc. Whompt shifted uncomfortably in the seat that did not fit his ass. Then, responding to the patient yet eager look on Richard’s stony face, Whompt delivered the news in the most straightforward manner he could, “I didn’ get the job done.”

Richard narrowed his eyes analytically, as though hundreds of calculations were going through his mind at once, it gave him a very powerful presence, suspicions rose to his face, but he voiced them in a most stoic way, “And yet you are here, does that mean you encountered the creature?”

Whompt explained what had happened in a few sentences or less, yet, surprisingly, grew a bit more detailed when he explained he had been possessed by the monster itself, and had to be defeated by Gildarts to regain control. He described it clearly, how what Whompt had felt during the Malefactor’s takeover and how very cognizant he was throughout his battle. After a while, the story hung on the elf’s spiked ears as he computed in silence.

“And this... Gil...Darts you say he was perfectly normal when it was in him, for an entire day in the hospital as he recovered?” The elf was smart, and could infer the details from Whompt’s journey though the effects that his action had caused.

“Tha’s right,” though Whompt did not say it, (it was not his information to tell, and the mercenary did not deal in information, nor trade another man’s secrets without a good price) he himself reflected on the his companion, a little cat named Piqui, who seemed to have the ability to calm him. Richard’s sharp, grey eyes speared into the orc’s flesh. It was almost as though the elf had read Whompt’s mind, but if he had, no one would have known it.

“... I see.” Richard concluded finally, “It seems, that though you were unsuccessful in bringing back the orgosynth here to us, you have caged it for a good time, within a man who may not be so easily shaken by the madness that it causes to stir. We, as a community, commend your efforts.”

A pouch of gold was set on the table. Followed by a heavy “Clunk!”

The orc’s eyes bulged with anger. It was almost a dishonor to see the money offered to him for a job that had not been completed to the orc’s satisfaction. Still, Richard seemed to expect this result, it had obviously streamed through his head that though the orc may not take the reward they had to offer, it would be, to them, disrespectful not to offer it. Not to mention, dangerous.

Whompt was an orc, and a very strong prime mercenary. Recently, he’d been thrown off a cliff on his journey, and on the mission they had sent him out to do, the prime had nearly died. It was only fair to compensate, but no... There was something more hiding behind the shield that Richard had for eyes. Whompt could not see it, for his own were clouded by anger of the highest dishonor, but surely, had someone with a clear mind been peering at the room, the scene would have been very easy to read.

Whompt’s chair had crashed into the ground, nearly breaking the shambles of wood it was crafted with. The elf started, yet remained in place, with his eyes trained on the angry orc, with careful precision to watch the Prime’s axe over his shoulder, and the power that came with a single movement of the beast’s hands. Yes, behind the veil of Richard’s eyes, it was not hard to tell, that the elf had offered this gold not simply out of obligation, but of fear.

Richard said nothing, quivering in place, yet with the spasms to his elven muscles undetectable to the eye. The enraged orc looked down at the gold, then to Richard, and spat in disgust. Yes, he was a mercenary, but even mercenaries only got paid when they were due. This was not due. The orc knew that much, there was an aggressive look in his beastly eye, and Whompt surmised how he was feeling in a single sentence, for it seemed now, that even through the orc’s thick green head, he knew why the money had been offered. Whompt spoke with his words littered in accented anger.

“Tell anyone tha’ passes t’rough tha’ I’m look’n for a job.”

It was a fitting, and almost just notion, for Whompt had, in way of his own services, advertised his need for a new job, and should the elves do that, collected his payment in a form that was not money. In a way, each benefited from the transaction, yet the money was left on the table.

Whompt had stomped out, leaving Richard and two other onlooking elves in silence, each who’s shoulders fell as the orc left the hollow, wooden room. Whompt, left this village as another chapter closed. Whompt left this village, with no where to go but the road.