The thickets Ambrose and Giovani endured on the way to the clearing only seemed to be more bothersome on their way back to the main path. They didn’t have time to complain; their hearts racing and minds hellbent on distancing themselves away from the monster of a hog. Giovani hadn’t seen, but Ambrose had been able to catch one last glance before his feet sent him to flight, seeing yet unbelieving as the pinned beast had not died instantly from another deadly impalement. It had continued to fight, and the bastard sword loaned to Ambrose did not have the girth to keep his mind at ease as he raced away from the horror.
Branches and thorns stabbed at both his exposed flesh and through the cloth of his gloves. Both men shrieked and pained but did not break stride, and when it seemed to Ambrose that they had lost the course back, he tripped on the thick root of a protruding tree. Able to just get his forearms in front of his face in time, his scalp became victim to one final bush, the branches reaching, scratching his head as he dived through. Rising from the ground, relief swept over him, as they had made it to the path.
Towering over them on top of the chariot, Veronica looked down at him curiously. She had just finished latching the holding cell, her whip returned to her hip. A moment later, Giovani mirrored Ambrose’s arrival, falling through a bush only a few yards to Ambrose’s right.
“Well, what the hell happened to you two?” Veronica said.
Both men caught their breath, inhaling and exhaling quickly and laboriously. When Giovani could, he replied: “A beast...a monster...good God I don’t even know what we just saw sister! It wasn’t natural!”
“Is that what caused the tree to fall?”
“What tree?” Giovani said, picking thorns from his hands.
“Are you daft and deaf? Surely you heard it! A great elm fell onto the path just up ahead. Sebastian is figuring out what to do about it. The chariot will be useless should he fail.”
Ambrose and Giovani turned their attention to the path ahead; a bend in the road fifty yards away was concealed by the overgrowth of bushes and thick, congregated trunks. But what they could see was a small flurry of leaves being blown like tumbleweed coming from the hidden path. As their breathing calmed, so too did the pounding in their ears brought on by fear and flight. In the budding quiet, they could hear hacking and grunts in the distance.
“Do you see that bizarreness ahead sister?” Giovani said.
“I see it right in front of me, but not up ahead.” Veronica hopped down from the chariot.
“Truly I am serious! Something is off…” Giovani trailed off, still staring down the path. A moment later, he sprinted down the path.
Ambrose almost moved to follow him, but instead, he stayed where he was. Presently only one other person was impeding his rescue operation, and while that person made his knees rubber with a single look, he still believed in both his chances and his coin. As he reached into his pocket, Veronica moved to his side, leaning on his shoulder.
“Finally some alone time,” Veronica said cooly, her arm reaching now to the small of his back, sending a chill up his spine, “We could sneak off to the side here, I’ll make sure it’s quick.”
“You are incredible to the point and forward, aren't you? Isn’t there more important-”
“Mind your tongue, soldier. You do not tell your captain what is important. Don’t let my brother fool you, for he is the same way as I am. You see, Visconti's take what we want when we want it. And I want you, now.”
“And should I decline?” Ambrose was hot, trying to distract himself with his coin flipping between his fingers.
“Decline? Oh, you surely can decline. Then, when we make camp later, I will tell Sebastian that I want your head as a gift for our consummation.” Veronica reached from his back to the side of his hip, and Ambrose looked at her with horror in his eyes.
“I was going to tell him today, right after the battle. Sex and jealousy seem to have hardened him well, that Sebastian was just a boy not even two weeks ago. But he was an incredibly talented boy, and already now he is an incredibly strong man. I saw it in his eyes this morning, the same eyes my son or daughter will have. But now here you are, a stranger, positioned by the Gods to save my life. I owe it to find what kind of man you are. After all, it’s quite simple to suspect that you are not of High Hillford. And do not protest - for I am more impressed than I am alarmed.
“Visconti’s aren’t of High Hillford either, never did I expect to dawn gold armor and pray to an almighty spirit. But here I find myself, by pedigree, infamy, and destiny. And yet even with this, my inclusion and command was a process. Now here you are; a nobody, a loose end, an imposter, so unlike and beneath. Yet you stand next to me now, and I do owe you my life. Size and strength are simple, barbaric pursuits. Strategy, however, is tantalizing to me.” She had one hand wrapped around his waist, reaching down to his groin. The other came and mirrored it, her whole body stationed behind him, her breasts pressing on his back. Her cold nails were at his pubic hair, and by the cunning and slyness of her voice, she was well aware of his excitement growing.
“Even in strategy, there’s a chance, correct?” Ambrose said.
“There is always chance, like this encounter, like this-”
“Well then to chance we go! Can I have sex with you? Heads say yes, tails say no!”
“Wait what?”
Ambrose flipped his coin, the silver reaching high into the air where both he and Veronica watched it from its apex to its descent. The coin landed in Ambrose’s open palm. Veronica’s hands ceased their invasion, and she stood on her tipped toes as Ambrose slapped the coin onto the back of his left hand.
Ambrose grimaced at the result; another skull appeared, this time its jaw hanging open, and what appeared to be a snake moving between the inner parts of the mouth and resurfacing through the empty cavity of the right eye. It continued this loop, moving from the outer skull to the inner with the skull statuesque.
“What the hell kind of coin is that? What is it doing?” Veronica said, on tippy toes and peering over Ambrose’s shoulder, her hands slipping from out of the front of his pants.
Ambrose could only turn his head to her in response; studying her darting and wide eyes, he was left without the ability to speak. For her and himself, this was a first. As Veronica's fixation finally wavered and she matched Ambrose’s gaze, their faces but inches apart, their attention was once again captured. They both turned fully around with the sound of cracking and splitting.
It started out like the sound of rain falling, increasingly growing to the sound of a hammer beating on wood. But then the splitting became evident, and as they both found the tree causing the ruckus, they both saw the trajectory of its inevitable collapse. Stationed next to the chariot, the lean of the elm began to move then, causing the splintering to double in sound before the pinnacle of both their fears came to a thunderous reality. The roots of the tree exploded then, peeling back bark and bursting from the inside to expose the light sapwood. Neither Ambrose nor Veronica could do anything, the former horrified as Elenor began to scream.
The intact part of the elm’s trunk found home in the middle of the chariot, crushing the floor between the two wheels. A great many branches teemed both the landing sight and the path alike, causing the other side of the chariot to fall out of view. Both sides of the chariot were moved, the back half wheeling away from them before the rear fell and dug itself to the ground, where it would remain. The other half with Elenor’s standing casket came towards them, and as its rear dug into the ground the abrupt end to its momentum caused the metal holding to be ripped and launched from its base. It landed with a bang just a few yards away from where they stood.
“This is madness! What in God's name is happening today!” Veronica shouted, steaming and nearly frothing with annoyance as she took a step away from Ambrose, “Soldier on me! We need to secure-”
Veronica’s knees and legs went weak as she began to fall to the ground. She may have tried to say something, at least it looked that way to Ambrose, but the words never came from her mouth. She was able to turn her head, her eyes looking yet unseeing at Ambrose. She finally fell with a loud thud to the ground, the air escaping her mouth as she went limp.
It was all the result of Ambrose bringing down his gauntlet onto the back of her head. He stood over her, frozen with eyes that spread disbelief over first his victim, then his own hand. He felt an out-of-body experience then as if he was someone else and not the Ambrose Nola of yesterday or even this morning. He couldn’t come up with an answer to the newfound courage and action that seemed to come more from instinct than from a sound decision, wondering if somehow someone greater and more qualified had forced his bravery. Reality returned to him a moment later, as he ran to the metal chamber on the ground.
“Elenor! Are you alright!” He yelled, trying to pull back the bolt that wouldn’t budge.
“Oh, I think I’ve been better! What is happening?”
“Your escape - ah!” Ambrose said as he succeeded in pulling back the bolt. As he pulled the door, Elenor pushed with both legs and between both efforts, Ambrose was sent from the chariot to the ground as the metal door came to a loud opening and hung over the ground.
Elenor’s head popped out as she sat up, her hair wild and breathing heavy. Parting her hair, she looked once in one direction, then to the other to find Veronica still knocked out on the ground, her face buried in the dirt. Ambrose popped up, surprising her from the other side of the hanging door.
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“Ambrose! My word, I do believe you’ve done a great deed today! I had thought I was doomed for sure!”
Ambrose’s smile became a half-one before he shrugged a shoulder, “Well I suppose that makes two of us, but here we are! We’re not out of it yet I fear, for that one, there is only one half of the killer psychos. We need to stop the big one now, I’ve seen him move and I fear a quick escape will only prolong our demise.”
“Aren't there three of them? And what of the soldiers pulling the chariot?”
“Oh...bugger me. I forgot about those four. They could be back here any second now, with that big-bladed bastard not far behind. You got any ideas?”
Elenor rolled her eyes at him, “You ask the captured for ideas! Some rescuer you are - but I do. Help me out of here!”
<><><><><>
Giovani turned down the path, and immediately was given the serene sight he had half expected; thousands of leaves fell listlessly in the scattered light of sunshine that leaked through the branches high above, the path changing from soft, quiet ground to the bristling of leaves underfoot as he ran, with his target the substantial man slashing through a large, fallen trunk from a tree with a sword near his height at the center of it all.
“Willcott! Stop what you’re doing!” Giovani said, his footfalls now not crunching as mostly stems remained the closer he got.
Sebastian turned to him, his face questioning, “Are you mad Visconti? This downfall of this tree could very well coincide with the downfall of our mission! We need-”
“Don’t you see around you! Something is very off, and I think we’re the cause of it! Stop for just a minute and see for yourself!” Giovani got to Sebastian's side, jutting an arm out across the stomach of the taller man.
They both looked up; bright green leaves filled the air, listlessly floating down and around them amid the overarching branches that blocked most of the sky. Sebastian’s sword fell with a soft thud to the earth, his face stuck with the look of stupidity he had given Giovani. It wasn’t a minute longer that the plethora of leaves began to diminish substantially, leaving less to block their vision of the empty branches they had come from.
Sebastian whistled, and before he could comment Giovani changed the path of his arm from blocking Sebastian to extending in front of him. Whistling through the air, Giovani’s ebony dagger returned to his grasp, the blade dripping with blood. As his fingers clenched it, the trees let go of another bounty of leaves, once again filling the air with slow green raindrops that fell at them.
Sebastian shook his head in disbelief, “Well, admittedly that is unusual. I suppose you’re right then, though I am unsure why we should fear some leaves falling from trees.”
“There’s more, look to the ground,” Giovani said, pointing to a few green leaves that were lightening a few inches away from Sebastian’s feet. They both saw as the leaf, which had come down as a dark green, expedited its foliage; the light green was transforming to a bright sun yellow, before being corroded with the apple red of fall, and finally, the red died and became a withering brown. Sebastian lifted a foot and stepped on one, hearing the crunching sound of the leaf bristling and breaking, and when he lifted his foot his eyes widened at the lack of nature left. All that remained around his foot, and decorating the path he now realized, were dried stems.
“Alright Giovani, I’ll give. But I am not sure what you’re expecting, as I said strange leaves should not halt our progress. I’d argue the forsakenness of this country is to blame, which means we would do better to increase our haste! I’m nearly halfway through this tree and could use a hand. So how about it? It just needs to be wide enough for the chariot to pass, start on the other end of the path.” With a shove, Giovani stumbled out of Sebastian’s space. The bull of a man raised his sword once again, bringing it down and cutting through the incision he had been working on before Giovani arrived. Pulling the blade free, the hard job task seemed to not affect or dull the blade at all.
Giovani looked up, seeing the new onslaught of leaves headed his way, “Sebastian I don’t think-”
“No Giovani, that’s your problem. You do think, far too much!” Sebastian said, sweat glistening his forehead yet his breathing still even, “That’s your issue, what is holding you back from greatness! Instead of overthinking everything, appreciate the destiny you have. You stand there with one of the finest and most powerful items in the known world, blood flowing through your veins that make you legend, and the key to everything we want to achieve blocked by a mere tree in the road. How don’t you realize how lucky you are? If I had half the thoughts you do in your head, I would've never made it to the age of nine with my mother! Do you believe I didn’t have days where I could think of a better, more fun use of my time? That I didn’t think my youth was being usurped? Of course, there were days like this! And guess what I did? I persevered, and because of that, I am the man you see today! On the verge of saving this doomed world, and already the strongest to walk it with my blade in hand! Now stop thinking for once and just do as I say!” Sebastian brought his sword down heavily with two hands, the blade singing as it ripped completely through the new section of the trunk and found dirt. Sebastian laughed, satisfied and thrilled as he pulled the blade from the ground.
All expression from Giovani’s face was lost, his eyes seething in the direction of Sebastian who continued to the next section. With his blade in hand, Giovani threw it at the shadow cast by the trunk in front of him, where it did not make any sound as it was absorbed in the darkness. Still looking hellbent on Sebastian, Giovani lifted an arm, beginning to wave his wrist up and down. As he did, the trunk near him was cut vertically in either direction, the ebony blade hissing as it rose from the shadows point first before spinning its point down and returning. He continued this, making progress on the bark much slower than Sebastian. Between the two of them working, and the ill thoughts Giovani mused in his mind, they both were slow to hear the rustling coming from the brush where the tree had fallen.
It was Sebastian’s expression that brought Giovani back to reality, and the man had a split second to react to the growing noise coming from behind him. Giovani jumped on top of the fallen tree, his blade following and finding his hand before he saw the boar. Coming from the brush was not only an animal but a black smoke that rose high over the overgrowth. Exploding onto the path was the same boar, Ambrose’s bastard sword still caught between its black pool of eyes, crossing where Sebastian had stood as it accelerated at Sebastian.
Sebastian went into a stance, his sword gripped in one hand with his offhand close and floating near. As the boar neared, it lifted its chin, exposing both the deep wound cast by Gio and the tip of the dirtied, matted blade stuck in its neck. Sebastian’s eyes went wide with surprise, but his strategy remained the same. Only a yard away, Sebastian gripped his greatsword with his other hand, swinging it down at the ground. The boar passed through the apparition that was his clone, but the blade seemed real, as behind the boar stood the real Sebastian. Cutting the beast at its back legs, the beast shrieked and squealed with agony. As it writhed in pain, more black smoke seemed to emerge from its mouth.
“Good lord! What was that? How was that? I told you this place was forsaken Giovani!”
Giovani was looking beyond Sebastian, his jaw hanging open. The man was looking incredulously at something, and Sebastian turned to follow his gaze. Passed the tortured yet still alive boar, more black smoke grew from the other side of the path. Pushing passed the bushes, a gold-armored gauntlet exposed itself, and a man of High Hillford came forward. Joining him was another, and then two more came into the fold. They were the four soldiers assigned to the carriage, and yet they were changed to a horrifying degree; their previously tanned skin was reduced to a pale color as if they had never met a day in the sun, their veins incredibly pronounced and protruding across their foreheads and neck. His eyes stayed at one of their necks then, and a moment later realization swept over him in a crushing wave as all four of his soldiers brandished the same wound to the jugular, as if part of their uniform. Dark blood was matted there, still dripping onto each of their chest plates. He looked to their eyes then, seeing the same intensely dilated pupils that the boar had. Each of them drew their respective longswords from the hilt on their hips, two of them pointing to him, and the others pointing over his shoulder where Giovani stood.
“My men?” Sebastian started, and as the first man charged with the point of his blade bearing down at him, the boar let out a wild squeal, sending his spine to tremble for an instant.
He had plenty of time to regroup, even with the headstrong charge the first man came at him with. Sebastian breathed deeply in through his nose, thinking; that he knew that wound anywhere, the calling card and trademark for a supposed ally that never earned that title in his worldview. Though his breathing did well to focus his warrior’s concentration, it did not fare to qualm the new rage igniting within him.
“Giovanni Visconti! You traitor!” Sebastian cried out. The possessed soldier was but three yards away, his sword set to stab but a single yard from Sebastian, and that was when the behemoth of a man gripped his greatsword with his offhand. The soldier stumbled and fell forward, his momentum devastated by the lack of physical presence in the clone that he forced his blade into. The true Sebastian brought his blade horizontally across his body, the blade singing as it sliced through the neck of the other soldier who had yet to move.
His new perspective, facing the path like the dead soldiers were when they emerged from the brush, gave him a new reason to be angered. Making great haste was Giovanni, running back in the direction of the chariot, his blade sheathed and eyes unlooking behind him.
“You fucking coward! I will kill-” Sebastian brought his blade up to defend himself as the now headless soldier whirled on him, his blade aiming for Sebastian's throat. He blocked it easily enough but was left with a stupefied expression as he looked at his opponent's face or lack thereof. Blood jutted from the man's spinal cavity, a small volcano it spitting and only worsening the mess of blood that trickled down its golden armor. He did not have another moment to marvel at the impossible, as the two men who had aimed at Gio turned their attention to him as well. Letting out a cry of frustration, Sebastian turned the blade of his immediate opponent easily with the turn of his own, forcing both their blades to aim at the ground. With his infamous speed, Sebastian moved the heavy blade as if it were a paintbrush, slicing up high and through the inner armpit of the arm that held the sword. Quickly, he gripped his blade once again with his offhand, turning his current position into an apparition of himself once again that the other two soldiers stabbed at to no avail.
The true Sebastian stood now on the trunk of the tree, almost falling as the section he stood on was cut by his hand. He was panting, yet he attributed it to the anger that he had for Giovanni more than his efforts. He looked to what his effort did accomplish, and found more aggravation as a result; the headless and single-armed soldier was prying his blade from his arm and own dead fingers, while the other three turned and locked on to him.
He readied himself once again, feeling his breathing and floating his left hand over the hilt of his sword, “Come at me then you demons! I’ll purge the lot of you, even if I have to cut through you bit by bit! If this is the trial God has asked me to endure, then he challenges not only my skill but my faith! Have mercy on those who try me!” Sebastian jumped from the tree, his whole body positioned to come down hard with his blade on the first attacker. The unliving soldier brought his blade up, ready to stab through. But once again, the blade found no home as it passed through the clone of Sebastian. On one knee and stationed just behind, the true Sebastian brought his sword up through the groin of the dead man, tearing through the entirety of its body.
Each half of the body fell to the ground. Sebastian stood there with cool satisfaction on his face, readying once again to do the same to the other dead soldiers. Abruptly, everything became interrupted as he breathed in deeply, and he choked on his breath as if he had swallowed something the wrong way. He hacked and coughed, placing a second hand on his sword and fleeing twenty yards to the other side of the tree, where his fit raged for another few seconds. He spit, finally catching his breath. He felt disoriented, his vision slightly blurred, and tried hard to snap out of it as quickly as possible. Everything was blurred for another few seconds; the green of the forest gave no details to the bushes and trees, the brown bark of the fallen tree could have never been guessed, and shapes were moving from the other side and onto it that were bright as the sun.
He turned, gripped his sword again, and was carried away another twenty yards instantly. He used the new distance to wipe at his eyes, blinking feverishly and finally was able to take back his impaired vision. He could finally see as the intact soldiers passed over the tree, clumsily he noted, and the third that he had beheaded struggled yet followed. He finally saw then how that third soldier was emanating a black smoke, which seemed to be its blood dissipating from his golden armor. What seemed like a lot of dark smoke was really but a little, as he realized the brunt of the afflicted air was resonating from still behind the tree.
The body I cut in two! Is that some sort of poison? It was as far as his thoughts could go on the topic, as the trial he faced only provoked him further. As the three soldiers charged at him, a part of the forest seemed to explode back in the direction of the chariot. Sebastian ground his teeth, looking back in that direction, and yet honed his senses on the enemies charging at him. As he placed his offhand on the hilt of his sword, he prepared to end all the various forms of friction impeding his destiny.