I ask of you. WHY?!

[Guest]

The tongues of flame lit up the sky, the world around him crumbling down. He would cough, stumbling over fallen buildings and the like, looking around at the flaming houses--places where his friends would be living, had been living, were now filled with licking fire. The frames were blackened and slowly degrading, falling to the earth. "Mother... Father..." He coughed, tripping over and landing on the ground, throwing dust up around his slim form. He didn't know where they were. Streets that were once familiar to him were now burning up, distorted into alleyways of horror and destruction, desolation and death. He got onto one knee, slowly getting to his feet and continuing on. The 9-year old turned his head to the side as he trekked past a small field, buildings at the back-end burning up as his own small school crumbled towards a final resting place. "Why... WHY?" His question went unanswered, but his feet would keep moving, awkwardly placing steps into cracks and holes, but using them to keep his body steady. His clothing was covered in soot, black marks over his white shirt, blue jeans. It had started quickly, and people had started to run. His mother and father had tried to get him out of the house, preparing to follow as fire swallowed the wooden building whole. He didn't know what happened to them, whether they were alive or not--just that they were gone right now. As he continued to breathe in the fumes, he found himself slowly growing weaker and weaker, falling forwards and landing on the ground, turning onto his back and staring into the sky with tear-stained eyes. "I..." He was going to die. Not only was he going to, but this child had almost accepted his own death. The light... the light was there, and he would go into it. He would go into it... no, something was blocking his way. The light is there, but something is in its way! Stop! Get out of the way! STO--

"It is okay." Reaching out a thin yet muscular arm, a gauntlet gripped the boy's hand and pulled him upwards, lifting him into the air so he would be cradled by the girl in blue. "Come. I will take you to the survivors." The child's face lit up, and she could not help but smile at him as she slowly carried him through those burning streets, passing by ghosts of buildings with people long gone from their wrecks. It had been difficult, but they had coordinated themselves into reaching an escape point, long before the fire had truly spread. This child was unlucky, having been unable to escape in time. Carrying him to the outskirts, a group of people were standing, huddled together. A few were mourning over the dead, though two were standing from the side of the crowd, mourning on their own. A husband and wife, looking for their lost child and giving up hope. Slowly opening his eyes, the boy looked forwards, seeing the man and woman there, recognizing them without a moment to spare. "Mother... father..." Climbing down out of the woman's arms, the boy ran forwards, stumbling over dirtied grass and snow, running into the arms of his loving parents. Smiling softly, the girl turned away. As he pointed towards the direction that his savior was, he saw that there was no longer... anyone there. She had already disappeared from view...

[Guest]

'No. No, no, no. NO!'

His metallic fist collides in the face of one of the thugs that had come after him. It takes considerable restraint on Hei's part to make sure the force doesn't cave the poor fellow's skull in, but some form of a fracture was inevitable.

'This wasn't supposed to happen!'

Another one, clearly out of bullets, was rushing him now, using his rifle as a club. Or trying to. Hei didn't even bother dodging, instead his clenched left hand released its grip for a moment to catch the swung weapon and firmly grip on it. There is only a slight pause for this fool to gape in fear, as the light in his eyes begins to dim due to despair overwhelming him. Fortunately for him, he comes off lightly for his foolhardy charge at the madman, instead receiving a knee to the gut followed by a rough shove onto the ice-laden earth.

'Then again. There was no way I could have known they'd do this . . .'

His thoughts are trailing, as his crimson eyes gaze upon the homes. The poor homes engulfed by flames. The Xingman can't help but halt a moment, grief swelling up in him as he knows that these homes were all suddenly torched. He knows that this whole place would burn to the ground. He knows that not every civilian here got out safely. He knows . . . and now he knows something else.

'This is all my fault . . .'

For a moment, he collapses onto his knees. Before him was where he had haphazardly jabbed his greatsword, a sword of black, into so as to avoid using it on these Drachman troops. But now, his choice to fight without bloodshed had brought devastation to this small town. His desire to avoid bloodshed brought ruin and death ... the irony here was hurting just too much.

About him, four still standing Drachman soldiers were calling in for reinforcements. Cowards, the lot of them, not wanting to even draw close to Hei, despite his current position of prayer, as though mourning for the ruin that was right before him. His hands are resting upon the hilt of his blade, and his head tilted down looking away from the roaring flames before him.

'Why did it have to turn out like this?'

[Csilla Angelis]

{BUMP}

[Guest]

And with that, a sudden wind blew past the woman, as if causing her to become wary of an impending storm. Throughout the sounds of crying children, something new was amiss. As she turned her head to the side, the elephant chimera's face twitched somewhat, staring into the distance. Within a few hundred meters of their position, there was a scuffle going on between a group of people. That was all she needed to know. Turning on her heel, the girl made a sharp bow, facing away from the people of the town with a steeled expression. "I shall leave the rest to you. Godspeed." Suddenly pushing forwards off of the ground, Sablya Pendragon was now on her way, blazing downwind in order to check out the source of the sound with a worried expression. The fighting that she heard; it was going on within the town--that meant that there was still someone there. Would they be hurt? Would they be the one who caused this tragedy to occur? She had to know. It was within her rights to know, as of now. Streaming through flaming wreckages, the girl gripped the golden sword on her left hip with a gauntleted hand and a solemn expression. "Let us hope that there is not a fight to be had."

However, the scene that greeted the girl once she arrived caused her to step back slightly, staring with a somewhat incredulous look on her face. "Wha...what?" Men. Men all around another within a suit of armor. They were watching, waiting, and that man was praying. The way they were standing... it meant that they were, at the very least, somewhat scared of him. This meant a lot of things to Sablya, and it was at this point that she realized: it was he. He was the one who had... That man, Hei Jin. It was at this point that... Sablya felt all semblance of calmness leave her. Her hand gripped tighter around the hilt, slowly sliding one of the two golden swords out of its sheath. Being within the radiance of light, it shone slightly--the visible blade meant that she had drawn Caliburn, the Sword of the Victorius. "You..." Looking down somewhat, the girl shook her head slowly as the first tear dropped to the earth. Her face was risen back at him, the grief-stricken expression shadowed by the fires themselves. "YOU BASTARD!" Without any further warning, the girl was off on a charge, heading straight for Hei with sword drawn and eyes full of fury. A soldier tried to get in front of her, telling her to slow herself down, but she did not heed his warning. He then found himself ten metres away, having slid across the ground. Running faster and faster, the blue-clad woman raised her sword into the air with a hefty shout, swinging it down for the first attack...

[Guest]

"Wha...what?"

That voice. Her ... voice. Yes, that's right. The Sekretar had promised him he would meet his ends by her blade, didn't she? That this pure soul ... well, pure to his mind's eye, would be the one that cuts him down. Still, now that she was here, this was no time to mourn or rest . . . in one smooth action, he rose up from his shamed position, left hand delicately curling about the hilt of this blade, a nameless greatsword he had acquired from years past, and gently removing it from its place in the frozen earth.

"... So, that bitch Vanity DID send you after me." For those who knew his nature, these words were hollow beyond belief. But for these soldiers and the poor Rook who knew nothing about him, the hollow core of his words resonated with a plausibly sound truth.

"You..." These words came as a whisper, compared to the cacophony all about them ... screams of terror and anguish from those yet to be saved, the crackling of the devouring flames, and a couple sickening . . . noises coming from the bodies of the injured about Hei, as they tried to move away from him but merely complicated their injuries.

"Yes, you poor blind lamb ... yes, me." The words are just coming out from him. Really, there's no cause from them, but something in those eyes of the girl who claimed to be king ... baited him into trying to strike her, physically or mentally. Somehow.

"YOU BASTARD!" Well, to be honest, this was not the reaction he was expecting. Given the positions of himself and this one, the sword swing would cleave down his left and given this Rook had proven to have ample strength, she could very well cut him in two. His response? Block. Sort of.

A swift adjustment and now he was holding the greatsword one-handed, reversed, just a moment before the King would slice him. He had already brought the sword up, so a clash was now inevitable. The question now, was whether or not she was able to do anything else after swinging down the blade. Unless Hei was mistaken, her stance was such that she was using both gravity and her full strength to bring down this blade, such would be devastating should it land and still unsettling even if it didn't hit his flesh directly.

The Clash. His grip is not a major concern. The blade of the Rook strikes at the lowest point of his actual blade, his left hand spared due to the sturdy guard at the topmost portion of the hilt. For a brief moment, he can hold the blade there, which places their bodies at awkward positions as one attempts to carry on the attack and one attempts to hold it back.

Moment after the clash. His right hand was clenched. And already ready to go. The moment that the blade came down and his arm went up, he took a step forward. If this had failed, the blade would not have cut through his shoulder, it would have split his head. But now this was an opportune position, for him. True, he could not do much, but what little he could do would have a nice effect, since the Rook's upper body was now completely exposed to a direct punch from his chimeric arm. The blow comes as a blur, attempting to bury itself into the armor that she donned, at this close a range, a complete dodge was impossible, but a full-force attack was also unlikely since she was a skilled combatant.

Still, despite injury to himself that he did not forsee, since his mind was too focused on trying to land his first strike, the attack carries on.

[Guest]

Their blades clashed, and Sablya felt a slight shock as her entire bodily force was stopped by his attack. Gnashing her teeth slightly, she started to push onto the now-deadlocked blades with somewhat wild eyes. She did not know why this angered her so, though she had some understanding as to why in other ways. As she continued to push, she felt the defence of the other breaking. Each second onwards that she continued to push, the blade of Caliburn bore down onto Hei with ever-increasing fury. The heat of the flames pressed against her face, and she stared at wherever she thought his eyes may have been with a fury that was unbecoming of the usually-calm Knight-King.

Moments after the clash, she felt the change in weight balance as the blade was thrown up with surprising force. Her arms were raised into the air; her torso revealed. Without warning, however, she felt something hit the armor that she called her own. She looked down, staring at the mass of flesh that had collided with her chest. A single split-second passed, and the girl's eyes widened with the sudden impact that threw her backwards. The sound of wind whipping past her head caused her to try and break her fall as quickly as possible, hitting the side of a smouldering building and sliding to the ground with grit teeth. She placed the tip of the blade into the earth and slowly pulled herself up, staring down at Hei with eyes that spoke droves of the rage that she was currently feeling. Rage... and sadness.

"Ma'am ... with due respect, what are you trying to do?!" Suddenly, a voice. The image of the destroyed Kremlin came up in front of her face, and she saw the sword on the ground next to her, and she wondered. That man... that man that she was about to fight, had he not convinced her of her own foolishness? "This world ... this life can be full of agony and despair. Such things corrode the soul . . . we are all fragile and broken souls in this reality, but we mend ourselves and our worth by resisting those two things in life, and therefore bettering ourselves with every chance. Please. Please. No matter what it is that you have done, or failed to have done, know that your life still has value, that it is precious and meaningful in the world." He had given her advice. Comforted her. Told her that she still had value. She was a wreck that day; she had lost everything, and everything was lost to her. That was why she had tried to kill herself... but she had failed, even at that. ". . . Emotion is . . . the greatest mark of a living and thinking being." And right now, she felt a bittersweet mixture and anger and sadness... Was that really a great mark of a living and thinking being...?

And then, the face came into her vision. Pushing up off of the ground, she lunged forwards and drew out the blade of Caliburn once more, charging directly for the man with a shout of rage. She had to do this. If she did not do this, she would not be able to atone for this man's sin. This man's sin would define the world that she stood in! Holding an arm out to the side as she ran, Caliburn was suddenly gripped with both hands and brought down upon Hei with a single shout. Steel clashed, sparks flew, and the attack was parried. Pulling back, Sablya attacked again. And again. And again. With each attack more and more strength was put into the blade itself. "Bastard!" Clash. "Bastard!" Clash. Sablya wasn't giving him any room to move, trying her hardest to keep him at bay. But eventually, she would slip. A leg moved into her vision, and she barely managed to move backwards. It wasn't enough, and the kick sent her sprawling, the blade of Caliburn flying into the distance and landing on the ground about a hundred feet away. Groaning from her place on the ground, she slowly got to her feet and looked at Hei with eyes of pure anger. Reaching down to the side, she gripped the hilt of the second sword that she carried on her person.

"Upon my sword, I promise victory." The weapon was pulled back, revealing... nothing. "The legendary sword of King Arthur... EXCALIBUR!" Suddenly pushing off on the ground, the sword was drawn from the hilt with a singular shout, brought down towards Hei Jin with a staggering swing. The weapon itself, though solid, was completely invisible to the naked eye, meaning that range was impossible to discern from this distance...

[Guest]

It was a ferocious clash between the two, but Hei was least concerned about the battle between their swords. He was more worried about at least knocking back the Rook so he could get some breathing room, since she was being ... unusually aggressive. Did he really provoke that much hatred in her?

His first punch had been successful, but that seemed to have barely slowed her down. Instead, she rushed once more, swinging with forceful strikes to either break his guard or cleave him, and he trying his best to bring the fight into close-quarters so that he would have the advantage. Unfortunately, her assault, coupled with harsh expletives wasn't letting up, if he tried to make a move, he could very well be cut to pieces. Until her form fell apart, a result of her rushed attacks meant she hadn't quite set herself on firm ground, causing her to stumble for a moment. And he was an opportunistic bastard when it came to a fight, so much that he practically threw out his kick as though on reflex, a straight front kick meant to land squarely into her chest, while to maintain balance, he drove his sword into the ground vertically to provide a post while his right leg moved.

Since this was on reflex, he hadn't put thought into where or how hard he was placing the attack until too late. If it had been successful, it may very well have caved in her armor and damaged something else ... but, as she was a skillful combatant herself, she managed to pull back to minimize the force of his strike. He instead struck her blade, which she managed to hold in place due to her arms attempting to block his leg while pulling back. Overally, the damage to her should be minimal, but her sword was now some distance away, plunged into the frozen earth before a structure completely engulfed by flame.

While she was down, even if it was a moment, the four remaining soldiers (including the one who had been knocked aside by her initial charge earlier) attempted to engage him. At the moment, only one of their rifles had any ammunition left, but that didn't stop the other three from try to use them as clubs against him. It would take him a second or two to draw his blade again, considering he had jammed it into the ground, and these men had drawn closer while he was too focused on blocking against the Rook's attacks. So he opted to take them down empty-handed.

The first, giving a brave yell while charging him directly, was immediately taken down with a swift right punch into his face. He had been too concerned with trying to swing the weapon with downward force that Hei merely paced forward to get within arm's length and cleanly strike him. The other two attempting to strike him came simultaneously, while he had been striking down the first, each to his sides and attempting to strike him from the front or back with horizontal swings. The man of his left found his weapon, which was trying to strike Hei in the face, gripped by the left gauntleted hand waiting there. The one on his right was trying to strike him in the back, ordinarily, this attempt would be effective (and especially considering he wasn't just swinging the rifle, but rather using it as an extension of himself while attempting to strike him) if Hei's right arm was already drawing back from the earlier punch and he was beginning to turn to his side dragging the poor fellow on his left with him. What resulted is the soldier on his right now seeing him eye to eye while his right arm was swung about backhanded and impacted sharply against his head. The last man standing next to him found himself single-handedly swung aside sharply aside into one of Hei's waiting legs, causing his left hand to successfully wrench the weapon aside ... and leaving the target falling forward as he simply shifted his legs, now turning from his back into a forward stance with the poor man ahead, abruptly followed by a knee into his neck. All this, in about a few seconds, while the Rook was standing back up.

(The fourth was then taken down by a flying rifle with the force of flying brick smashing into his chest.)

"Upon my sword, I promise victory." She called out, anger clearly present in his voice while she drew her other sword. This weapon was pulled from its sheath to reveal ... nothing. "The legendary sword of King Arthur... EXCALIBUR!"

"That's right ... you were convinced that you were named after the legendary king ..." Hei simply responds, as his memory reminds him why she would possess a 'legendary sword of King Arthur.' This was a highly disturbing fact to him, as he wasn't fond of people having a fate thrust upon them ... in fact, this whole situation for Sablya was practically god-damned tragic to him.

The battle was to resume, once more, as the swordswoman rushed him again. This time, though, her weapon was impossible to discern. Was this a joke? Or was this a serious threat? He could not tell, so his course of action was unclear. So, he did the next best think he could in these unfavorable conditions. He attempted a block. While the blade of his opponent clearly wasn't visible, that didn't mean the motions of his opponent were invisible. It was a downward swing, and it was easy to judge the angle based on her posture ... but nothing else was certain. Still, it was worth a shot.

As the stroke came down, his arm lashed out intending to push aside the blade's approximate location based upon the position of Sablya's arms. The more sensible thing, now that he reflected in mid-action, was to retreat and retrieve his own weapon, but to step back in this fight would be an insult ... that and it would still leave him clueless as to the properties of 'Excalibur.' And boy was he in for a shock.

The first sign that something was wrong was that 'Excalibur' had easily cut through his armor and was slicing into his flesh. This sudden presence of damage caused his next reaction, an immediate jerk of his arm ... a recoil back from the source of the pain. This had the benefit of dragging the blade a little bit off course, away from splitting his head into two, and instead shifting it slightly to his right. This had the unfortunate effect of, due to his lack of knowledge, of letting 'Excalibur' slice cleanly into his body armor and cut into his right shoulder. The only thing that saved him from having 'Excalibur' practically lopping his arm off was his reinforced skeleton. A brief pause was present, as the blade met the metal embedded inside his flesh, and that paused was enough for him to pull back, suppressing the pain and fear that this sudden injury had caused the best he could.

'What in the world?!' was the only thoughts in his mind as he retreated a few meters back in one motion. At this moment, there was a large enough gap for him to avoid being struck by that blade (assuming it was as long as the scabbard suggested) right at the moment ... and enough that the Rook would have to take a moment to draw close. That moment was spent removing the bracer on his right arm in one motion (simply ripping off the restraints the kept them bound) and then retrieving his blade before him, still stuck in the ground. At the moment, the only thing that gave away his opponent's blade was the blood that had caught on it. Not that there was much, but at least he had a guess as to the length of Excalibur ... meter ... two meter ... gah, he was bad at estimation. Not that it mattered! The blade was sharp, so the solution was to avoid getting hit at all costs. A hard goal, but possible.

"Why?" He shouts this time to her, while he begins to morph his arm into it's true form, allowing the wounds to mend rapidly (even the one upon his shoulder, for the chimeric arm was joined there), "Why do you still believe in such lies? Why would you let yourself be deceived?! Led about like some mongrel by a pack of wild lies, the likes of which built this damn country!!"

[Guest]

"That's right ... you were convinced that you were named after the legendary king ..." Staring at him through rage-fuelled eyes, the youth stood with a powerful stance, holding the blade in the air and pointing it forwards, watching Hei Jin with a quiet fury.

And so, the battle would resume. Sablya charged quickly and powerfully, not aiming to give Hei any part of this battle to win. She would end this quickly--here and now--avenging the villagers who died this day. It was obvious that he was the one who had performed the act which drove this village into flames. He was surrounded by soldiers. He fought back. He didn't try to explain anything. It was all so obviously clear. The first attack was an obvious one--a downwards swing, aimed to cleave through the skull of the other. The man raised his arm into the air, blade colliding with armor. 'Come on...' Sablya continued to push, threatening his skull still as the estimated tip-of-the-blade approached Hei's head. Something gave, and the sword pushed into the armor that surrounded Hei's arm, cutting into the flesh and letting warm blood flow free. The obvious surprise from the man caused him to move something out of the way, avoiding the head-strike and instead hitting the armor on his shoulder. It cut through the armor once more, and entered into his shoulder with a quick slice. Obvious pain was shown as Hei pushed back from the girl and moved off, dark blood flowing.

"Your skeleton... steel... На колени, сука." Gritting her teeth, Sablya aimed to give Hei no time to react. He was already preparing himself--the flow of blood was even being stemmed. Regeneration? No... "Why?" He spoke... stopping in her tracks, Sablya gripped her blade in two hands with grit teeth. "Why do you still believe in such lies?" Lies? "Why would you let yourself be deceived?!" Deceived... by what? "Led about like some mongrel by a pack of wild lies, the likes of which built this damn country!!" A sharp intake of breath, and Sablya looked down to the side, watching the ground and swallowing back a minute amount of bile. Shaking slightly, she turned back to Hei and pointed the blade at him, the sharp end aimed with intent to kill. Though... was there really any intent for this? She was reacting simply; what if he wasn't...? No, no, NO! There was no time to doubt herself. Doubt was not good... "Why do you do such things? I trusted you..." Looking down at the ground now, Sablya felt her cheeks grow wetter.

"I... I trusted you. Why repeat that statement? "I trusted you... and..." Her head was raised at him, and she looked straight at the man. A fire burned in those eyes, staring directly into whatever foolish shells remained of Hei's 'soul'. Her body was shaking profusely, but she was not cold--there was enough heat. She was scared. Lonely. Doubting. All she wanted... was someone to listen. All she got... was a never-ending fight. "A knight is always alone... But I never wanted to be..." Looking down once more, Sablya swallowed back tears; swallowed back sadness... swallowed back regrets. "I am... deeply sorry. You were the closest thing I ever had..." The last teardrop fell, hitting the ground and melting whatever snow remained in that spot, "...to a friend. Goodbye."

With that, her original calmness returned. The girl let everything flow properly. No more words. No more tears. Time to end this. Suddenly sprinting forwards, Sablya ran for Hei with a loud shout. Her body glowed slightly red in the shadow of the flames, and she turned up dirt with each step of metallic boots. The sword was brought backwards quickly, Sablya turning three attacks--one to each side and then one down the middle. All three were blocked, sparks flying into the air and outwards. However, that was not all. One watching from the outside would only see a blur. A blur of blue colliding against a blur of black, the pair moving away and forwards once more, clashing with sparks and then moving away again. Sablya had the advantage right now; attacking the man with strikes that were at a range he could not understand. However, this would not last long. She needed to finish this now, otherwise Hei would manage to understand the sword and get around it. Pushing a few more times, she made a quick feint motion. Down, up, left, right, FORWARDS! The sword was quickly thrust forwards, cutting through armor, flesh and into the stomach, penetrating out the other side.

Blood. Although the sword was invisible, it still had shape. The blood of the other, that dark and warm liquid, flowed down the invisible piece of weaponry, making red marks on the armored gauntlets of the youthful Chimera. Seconds passed, and Sablya sighed softly, raising her face to look up at Hei with a kind smile. A hand was raised into the air, and she gripped the helmet, removing it with slight ease and throwing it away into the fire. Instinct took over, and she slowly moved her head closer to his, still not sure what she was doing. Warmth met warmth; Sablya putting her lips softly against his and holding for a half-second, pulling away once more and smiling again--this time with a solemn look upon it. "You know... I think I'd fallen in love with you. Not much... but certainly a little. Pity. A Knight must... always be alone... So you will be burned. In the pyre of your own creation. Goodbye... Hei. Thanks for at least understanding me." The sword was quickly pulled out, and Sablya gripped the man's form, pulling him and dragging him over relatively quickly. She gripped his body and threw quickly, heaving him into the building she had thrown his helm into with all of her strength. Excalibur had been left on the ground nearby--she walked over to it and picked it up, planting the tip into the earth and placing her forehead upon the hilt. Closing her eyes... Sablya's emotions were finally truly poured out into the ground.

And with that... a horrific scream of the utmost pain... pierced the air...

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[Csilla Angelis]

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