Saving Hibreon Ch. 02

This chapter is coming through a bit later than I had hoped. I'm not trying to make excuses, but life has been overly brutal lately. I will try to get the next chapter out before the end of March, provided I still have a home to write from and a computer to write on.

Enough of that. On with the story...

-Guin

***

Saving Hibreon: Chapter 2

Wyfrost returned to the main room, and Lost was right behind him until a movement in her periphery drew her attention. She turned in the dimly lit hallway and saw an amorphous cloud drift though the wall. It was neither Ay'niki nor ylf'nim. It didn't cast a shadow and had no substance save the mist form which it was formed.

For a second, she thought about calling out to Wyfrost, but then she recalled his superstitions when they'd been in the Sacred Grove. Though it made sense to Lost that the ylf'nim palace housed spirits, that knowledge might upset Wy. She would investigate on her own.

Lost walked down the hall to where the mist had appeared. Placing her palm on the wall it had passed through, she opened her senses to explore whatever was there. She found not one energy, but several that had combined themselves into one presence. It disapproved of the invaders, and had been doing everything in its power to torment the Ay'niki.

Lost spoke softly but clearly in her ancient ylf'nim. "They'll be gone very soon. Kytia's home now, and we'll put things right again. You don't have to stay here anymore."

From back the way she'd come, she heard Wyfrost ask, "Sweetie, what are you doing? Who are you talking to?"

She turned to him and shrugged her shoulders. "Walls," she answered.

"'Walls.' Ooooh-kay. Tell you what, let's take your crazy back into the throne room, and we can let our blue buddy out of the floor. Sound like a plan?"

She returned to Wyfrost. "If I cray-see, you cray-see more."

"Oh yeah, and how's that?" he asked with a smirk.

"'Cause you love me."

"That I do." He paused, peering down the hallway to where he'd found her. Then he just shook his head and followed her to the throne room.

Lost knew that Wyfrost believed she was out of her mind. That was fine with her. She reasoned that she probably was a little off-kilter. In her experience, those who were right in the head were often extraordinarily dull. Wy and Kytia both had a weirdness that fit her own, and Lost was glad the gods chose to spit her out at their feet.

***

Wyfrost stared down into the shadowed hall, but he couldn't see anything there. It certainly wasn't beyond the lunatic witch to scold inanimate objects for not functioning properly. There was nothing wrong with the wall that he could see.

Wy was more worried about the floor. Kytia was deeply concerned about maintaining the palace and the city. She wanted things to go back the way they were before the invasion. Wyfrost knew that could never happen, but Kytia needed her reality to come in small doses. If Lost couldn't put the floor right, there was going to be an argument.

As soon as Lost entered the main hall, the alien in the flooring pleaded with her. "Look, you guys are clearly not interested in killing me. And this is really uncomfortable. Besides, I have to piss."

Lost shook her head and released the spell. As soon as the Ay'niki was free from the stone, he made a break for the doors. It was a maneuver that Wy fully expected. He grabbed a fistful of the back of the alien's shirt and tossed him on his backside.

Once Wy had the prisoner bound properly, he joined Lost to have a look at Kytia's floor. "Shit," he muttered. "Can't you make these stone tiles look more like those?"

"Pfft. Yeah, yeah, 'kay." Lost moved glowing hands over the floor, adjusting the pattern in the stone. She tried several times. No matter what she did, it just didn't look right to Wy.

At length, Lost popped up with a bright smile. She pointed at her head and said, "I got this!"

With grand sweeping gestures, Lost swirled about the room. While stirring up controlled whirlwinds of debris, she opened one small portal after another and swept it all away. The Ay'niki gave voice to what was in Wy's head. "Where's she putting all of that?"

"Yeah," Wy added, "Where's the debris going, Lost?"

She looked at him as if he was the nut job, and she gave a little shrug. "N'savoe." It was ylf'nim slang she'd picked up from Kytia. It was the equivalent of a noncommittal "I don't know" with a heavy dose of "Who cares?".

Wy imagined some perilous landscape covered in all the cast out detritus flung across the multiverse by people like Lost. The vision lasted only a second, for the witch was on a tear and headed out of the room. While she was gone, he examined the floor again. As far as Wy was concerned, cleaning up only made the discrepancy more noticeable. However, Lost had only just begun.

She returned with a rolled up carpet. She stooped and scooched backwards, lugging the thing as best she could. Even while wondering why she didn't just magic the rug into the room, Wy moved to help her. With the rug to cover the spot, he thought they were done, but Lost was off again for more décor.

From a safe place in the risers, their captive exclaimed, "By Fera's first coin, this is stupid. Please, tell me how you three ever managed to pull this off?" Wy turned to regard the prisoner, and the blue-skin continued. "It's got to be the redhead, right? This must be all her, because you two are fucking morons."

Lost snapped back, "Na'i. You face es fooking more on." She abruptly turned away from the Ay'niki and went back to work.

Wyfrost snickered as he moved to help Lost decide where to hang a couple of tapestries. Her plan wasn't half bad. If they were going to hide a bad spot in the floor, they might as well make a grand show of it.

In time, a suggestion rang out from their reluctant audience of one. "The green one clashes with that shade of blue. It would look better over there." At a second glance, Wy had to agree with him.

***

Kytia had behaved herself during the fight in the throne room. It was a performance she might have been proud of if she didn't have better things to do. Neither of her companions had the same desire for payback that she did, and that was something she could respect. Once out of their sight, however, she dropped all pretense at civility.

She disarmed the first Ay'niki she came to and turned his weapon against him. Armed with an energy weapon, Kytia waded into the fray with relish. She was determined to cleanse Raelinholm of the filth that had taken hold. Even her allies were shocked by the bloodlust in her vindictiveness. The Sil soldiers gave the raging elfess support, but they also gave her a wide berth.

Her fury grew the further she went into the city. The Ay'niki had turned people's homes into laboratories and testing facilities. They violated the sanctity of the church by turning it into a holding pen for the people they treated like animals. She and the Sil let them loose. Those who could stomach a fight took up weapons and joined in.

Growing careless in the thick of it, Kytia took on injuries. The Eloua suit she wore absorbed much of the damage, and her ability to regenerate (the only good thing the Ay'niki had ever done for her) was enough to keep her on her feet. She didn't even register pain until the battle slowed, and she'd run out of blue-skins to fight.

She found herself alone in front of what had once been the municipal center of town. Now the large stone building was used as a sort of alien supply warehouse. Disgusted, winded, and beginning to feel the aches of her endeavors, Kytia sat down on a bench to give herself some time to recover. She lifted her visor to get a breath of air, only to gag on the sharp metal tang of alien blood that assaulted her nostrils. In the moment of quiet, she observed the chaos that was on and around her, and she shut her eyes against it all.

Revenge, she'd thought, was supposed to be sweet. There was nothing sweet about the gore that coated and congealed on her armor. The Ay'niki had ruined her beloved city, and it would take months or even years to put it back the way it should be. She still hated them, and this bloodletting was supposed to make her feel better. Now that she had time to think about things in a moment of quiet, it only made her sick— sick of them and sick of herself.

She looked up toward the castle. Wyfrost knew what she was doing out there, and on some level even Lost understood. Still, she couldn't go to them dressed in the carnage of her rage. She believed that they were good, and with just as much conviction, she believed that she was not.

She heard heavy footfalls come up behind her and thought it was Wy. She was about to turn and ask him how he had gotten back in his suit after his drugs wore off, but then a massive hand closed around her neck and shoulder. For a second, there was crushing pain, then she was airborne.

Kytia was hurled across the street where her body rudely slammed into a solid wall. Crashing to the sidewalk caused further insult to her injuries, and Kytia groaned in response. There was no time for self-pity, because she could actually feel the vibrations in the ground now as her assailant quickly advanced.

A mad ogre in makeshift pieces of Ay'niki armor was coming for her. He laughed in anticipation of the mauling that was about to ensue, but he was big and slow. Kytia rolled under him and got to her feet just as his fists pounded the pavement where her body had been.

"Shit," she croaked and spat blood from where she'd bit her lip. Her entire spine felt like it had been twisted the wrong way. Her head and neck sang with an impending headache of doom. On top of that, it hurt to breathe, and she knew she had some cracked ribs. Her modified body would heal itself with unnatural speed, but broken bones took longer to heal than bruises. She offered a bloodied smile for her opponent and assured him, "All I got to do is stand up long enough to kick your ass."

Then the ogre pronounced the magic words: "You little bitch."

Kytia was sure this phrase had the same effect in any language on any female of any sentient species. It was a galvanizing epithet that coated all pain with an unyielding layer of indignant fury. Kytia dropped her fake smile and said, "Yeah, now you're fucked." During the brief exchange she noted that his castoff pieces of Ay'niki plating didn't fit him at all. He had nothing to fight her with except his bare hands. Clearly, he was confident that would be enough.

Her staff had since burned out of charges, but she still had her combat knife. Kytia shrugged and beckoned. "Well, come get me."

The ogre charged her, and she waited patiently. She watched the way he moved, took note of his gait and the way he slightly favored one foot. When he came in close for a swing at her head, she ducked inside the blow. Though her injured ribcage screamed in protest, she slipped between his legs. She spun around behind him and kept low to the ground. She winced when he shattered the wall with his fist. First, because it could've been her face, but also because that was yet more damage to the city she wished to preserve.

With two quick motions, Kytia cut at the tendon on the sore ankle and at the back of his knee. Getting him off his feet and down to her level was the only chance she had, but tendons were tough, and ogre tendons might as well be steel. She'd bled him, but only enough to make him angry. That was alright, for in her experience, big and dumb only got dumber when it was mad.

He turned on her and tried to kick her. She tilted back out of the way, then rolled to the side. A spray of hot ogre blood made her wish she'd kept her visor down. He tripped himself up when he missed his landing. The ogre was momentarily off balance, and it was the opportunity she needed.

Kytia got to his other leg and drove her blade home. She zeroed in on the small target of soft tissue between tendon and bone and managed to get the knife to pass through. With the grip in one hand and the end of the blade in the other. She wrapped her legs around the ogre's foot, and he did most of the work for her in his rage and agony. All she had to do was hold on and pull.

It was a brief and wild ride as he tried to kick her loose. She took a few blows to the head while he swatted at her, but as soon as she broke through his tendon, the ogre was howling on his knees. Kytia moved quickly before he could recover. She drove the blade under the base of his skull to sever his spinal cord.

Letting the knife clatter to the street, Kytia dropped to her own knees. Every breath she took drove a splinter through her side. She imagined she could just lie down right in the middle of the road beside the dying ogre. Along with the physical pain came a deep regret for having had to kill him. Ogres came from Hibreon, after all. He'd been a slave to the Ay'niki, just like her. In a way, she felt as though she'd just killed one of her own kind.

The sun had begun to set, and she heard the Sil soldiers coming her way. Kytia wiped her knife clean and pushed herself up. No alien would ever see her kneel again, and she greeted them on her feet in spite of pain and exhaustion.

Commander Lem, leader of the Sil troops who'd accompanied them to the surface, was among them. The Sil's serpentine body was thick with muscle, and his scales softly hissed as he slithered forward on his massive tail. The turtle shell like covering that protected his torso was decorated with his rank and awards. Though they were physically more alien than the Ay'niki, or even the Eloua, Kytia felt alright among the Sil. Perhaps because they thought more like her. She gave him a respectful nod and addressed him, "Lem."

"Kytia, glad you're still with us." He frowned then and added, "Are you hurt?"

He began to reach for her, extending his weird snakelike fingers. She couldn't stomach the thought of those gross things crawling across her flesh. Kytia suppressed a shudder, and took a swift step back, "No, I'm good, thanks."

"It's okay," he said. "I get it. But you should at least let the Oracle have a look at you."

He waited for her reply, but all she could think about was the blood on her armor, on her face, all the Ay'niki she had slaughtered, and the poor ogre. Kytia felt like a killer, and it wasn't something she wanted Lost to see.

"I can't go to them like this." He tilted his head in curiosity, but he didn't interrupt. "Look at me. I'm covered in gore. I look like a fucking monster."

For a second, Lem reached for her again, an instinctive desire of one sentient to comfort another. Knowing how she felt about his hands, he withdrew the offer. His voice was softer then, almost as melodic as the Eloua who employed him. "Does the violence improve your spirits as you believed it would? Did it make you feel... better?"

"No," she admitted, "I feel sick."

With a smile and a nod, he said, "Good. Then you're not a monster. Ambassador Araquies would say you're an evolving sentient. Now, let's head up to the palace and fetch your prisoner, hmm?"

They made their way up the road in a companionable silence, followed by a small handful of Sil soldiers. Lem didn't complain or argue when Kytia stopped at a fountain that still had a trickle of water flowing. In three years, the Ay'niki had neglected its maintenance, and it was overgrown with weeds, the water slick with algae. One of the Sil passed a rag to her, and she was able to wash her face. She took off her armor, allowing the soldiers to collect the pieces. Lem instructed them to take Kytia's armor to their shuttle to have it cleaned and repaired. Stripped to her underpadding, and with a clean face, she felt a little more ylf'nim than monster.

She and Lem set off again, but they were stopped by a group of freed slaves. With their pilfered weapons still tightly gripped, they were all understandably on edge. They'd been in the fight, and they had to know that the Sil were on their side. Still, their paranoia showed on their faces and in their stance. One of them called out to Kytia, "What happens to us, now?"

Perhaps, all they really knew was that another invading alien species had come to take the place of the first one. Kytia took a painful breath and firmly announced, "I am Captain Kytia De'Gallyn of the Queen's Elite Guard." She was shocked at how good and natural it felt to use her name and rank once again. "These are our allies, the Sil and the Eloua. The fight's over for now. So if you have a home that's still intact, go to it, if you want."

"Are they allies?" The freed ylf'nim persisted. "Or are we cut loose just to be put back in chains?"

Lem spoke up, "There will be no more chains. Raelinholm is free, and soon all of Hibreon will be so."

Somebody else in the crowd asked, "Who's going to lead us?" That began some bickering back and forth between people, and Kytia was appalled to hear her own name shouted more than once.

"Hey!" she barked at the crowd. "I'm nobody's queen, so you all just stow that shit right now. This is a time to celebrate, so go home, get drunk, and get fucked. We'll figure the rest of it out in the morning. Okay?"

She turned away from her people then and moved with purposeful strides for the palace doors. The last thing she needed was a gods damned political debate when her pulse relentlessly hammered on the inside of her skull. She could actually feel the minute maneuverings of her body's rapid repairs, and the work on her cracked ribs was more painful than the original injury. She might have wanted to punch something, but she was just too damn tired.

"Whoa," Kytia gasped upon entering the throne room. The place had been a wreck when she'd gone out. Now, it was cleaned up and furnished nicely. None of the stuff was where it used to be (where it was supposed to be), but it was still good.

"Prize, Kytia!" Lost's smile was irresistible, and Kytia grinned along with her.

Lost's eager expression yearned for Kytia's approval. Kytia said, "You two have been busy. I don't think it's ever looked so good in here."

"Nice," Lem commented. He approached the Ay'niki on the risers and continued. "I'll just get this guy out of your way. I'd heard you had him stuck in the floor. I sure would've liked to see that." The Sil chuckled, but Lost was already raising her hands, powering up her magic.

Kytia immediately situated herself between Lost and her, now wailing, target. She took the softly glowing hands in hers and held on to them. "No, no. That's enough of that."

The Ay'niki babbled, "Keep her away from me. She's crazy!" He seemed almost grateful to be hauled away by the Sil.

Wyfrost muttered, "Buddy, you don't know the half of it."

Kytia asked, "What was that, Wy?"

Wy spoke up, "I said he doesn't know how good I got it."

"Mm-hmm," Kytia smirked. "That's what I thought I heard."

Lost tattled, "Na'i. He not say that."

Wyfrost put his arms around Kytia's waist, and he didn't miss her flinch when he did it. He studied her face for second and said, "Guess you took a hit. Still on your feet though, huh?" He didn't wait for an answer. Softly, he asked, "You get it all out of your system?"

"Yeah, I think so." She stood on her toes to kiss him. When they parted, she cracked a grin and asked, "Did you get it out of yours?"

"Ha!" Wy laughed and shrugged. "Maybe just took the edge off a bit. Where's your armor, by the way? You're not getting a little serpentine action on the sly, are you?"

Kytia said, "Gods, Wy. Don't make me puke. The Sil took my suit for repair."

If Kytia's custom Eloua-made armor had suffered damage, it meant she did as well. Wy stepped back and held her shoulders at arms length. With more scrutiny, he scanned her body up and down. "What kind of hit did you take, anyway?"