Malefactor Redux

[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.