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Mariwa: An Ivian Tale
2 - The Children of the Lake 10

2 - The Children of the Lake 10

Foroca II focused on moving.

She didn't need to look to feel the other presence silently following at an even pacing. The labyrinthine grounds of the Floodlands should have been the perfect place to lose the traitor, every junction bringing its own camouflaged sinkholes, scum infested stagnant ponds, walls of wood and gnashing ivies that should slow anyone not used to the region, her unfortunate acquaintance of some time now.

Things were never so easy for her. Beliar III, if that was their real name, kept up with such leisure she was starting to worry she might be the newbie of the situation. Her supposedly eximious body, once a source of endless pride even after she learned her skills weren't quite to match, was starting to feel lackluster and sluggish in comparison.

Who was this, who managed to catch on her lies so quickly, who couldn't not know she was searching for a way to escape and strike from ambush, and yet refused to engage her in battle?

If felt humiliating. Why couldn't fortune and logic be on her side for once?

Worse, the Traitor's words were ringing true in her head: for a mere scout as her to be the sole survivor was a shame worse than death when every lesson imprinted on her spelled out who ought to have actually escaped. That she was captured, locked in a tight container like some sort of object, and abandoned without harm or use milked out of her? Worse than a costly embarrassment, that was the point her story got suspicious.

And she had been honest, recalling that particular snag on her journey. Had an inkling of it pierced through that treacherous mind, or was their focus entirely on how to take her down? Why hadn't they struck yet?

All she had needed was an easy to raid group, A merchant or a mildly well off family or a caravan of deserters too. All she had needed was enough nutrition to last until she found her way back to the Tunnels, the only safe way inside the Gale's walls for their kind. Was this some kind of cosmical joke? Punishment? A test?

"How long now?" the Traitor suddenly spoke, almost scaring her out of balance as she stepped on an arching root. "Night will fall soon, and it's way past an hour."

She didn't stop, but threw a furtive glance over her shoulder. "My apologies sir, I got lost for a moment. We should be there in less than ten minutes."

Under scrutiny, she had to recognize the Traitor had been careful with their image: Nel Salazam leather with padded underclothes, tastefully unadorned and subtly enchanted steel cuirass, standard field work cloak with veiling enchantments to avoid disturbing any Gale forces they might have to engage with; all things she had seen her superiors bear.

Not that she would ever recognize them as such, that would be an insult to those warriors who had once believed in her potential. Beyond their small, weak body, somebody in their place would know better than naked treachery! For all she knew, they might a particularly adroit and aged Face wearing stolen equipment, otherwise why would they have gone to the trouble of removing the Sigil of a bunch of other Faces, when that made them harder to keep track off and make accountable?

That weapon hadn't escaped her notice either. The guardless hilt, the spiral blade of demonium, she had only glanced at it, but she was sure of it: that had been a Rava. the Ivian Horn, the kind of instrument the more barbarous of the Mountain Tribes liked to use for their rituals. That is, not only the worst possible instrument for engaging a Faceless in close combat, but potentially the worst material too. What were they thinking? if they could waste space inside their Mark with that kind of trash, they had space for something more effective, if they had a Mark at all.

Considering that show they had made of handling it to their subordinate... could that really have the only weapon they had to arm themselves? No, she doubted it, yet then why use it against her at all?

Nothing about this situation made sense. How had they removed their Faces' Sigils in the first place? That was supposed to be impossible, even if you fully cut it out of their skin. She didn't have access to the right Receptacle to make an informed assumption, but she doubted they hadn't removed their own too. And also, why were they merrily crossing through Tyrian Bellfort as if it wasn't enemy territory? On a damned old model Oke too, of all things?

A guess came to mind, one that chilled her to her core, one that changed the entire situation. No, she berated herself, it couldn't be, they shouldn't even know it existed or where it had been hidden, so how would they-

Then again, it was possible exactly because it was illogical. She had been missing something, and this corner made the puzzle fit perfectly, didn't it? Beneath notice and human enough to get through the lax borders, meanwhile walking away with one of the Remnants most precious treasures, no need to fear the foes they might already have a deal with.

She had never relished lacking a face as much as this very moment. There would have been no way to hold her delight from showing! This was exactly what she needed!

Though, assuming she was right: what next?

She couldn't lower her guard just yet. They couldn't have accomplished the heist without some powerful backers after all, and by the end of the day she might have to enter conflict with the Tyrian's very own Heirs.

Not that it mattered. Her plans had always involved slaying the Traitor and their band of turncoats, which is why she was luring the idiot in a long circle; she had slightly more time to explore the Floodlands than she might have told. Sadly, a crucial part of her plan had involved the now impossible ambush, so she would have to improvise a little, and thus sacking that Oke for her goal and craved nutrition would have to wait.

She shouldn't underestimate her opponent too much, even if they were a Face. Under the Remnants wings, only seasoned warriors got to fly out of the nest. She wanted to avoid a direct, or worse, prolonged conflict when she still had at least half a dozen others to cull later. She had enough Mush to last her for a few days of activity, not a drop she could willingly waste if she wanted to come back alive.

How unfortunate then, that was certainly the way the evening was heading. So long as she caught them unaware, she would have the advantage no matter how old or well trained they were. The usual Faceless long range maneuver might be expected, so it would work as an opening, but perhaps as a follow up to the initial charge, or a distraction...

She tried not to reminisce on the state of her equipment. Her axe had been her best weapon and the vermin probably had stashed it for themselves by now; her armor could have been worse, which to the Faceless essentially meant in tatters; on top of it all, though she had practiced hard after her change, her skills still didn't go past reasonable.

By the books, it was a hopeless scenario.

Not like she had anything else to lose, however.

And so, she decided to-

"You never told me how many of you survived." the Traitor said, breaking her chain of thought.

"I didn't? Apologies, sir. Four of us survived, all scouts. We were kept behind to solve an incident and arrived too late to aid the main unit in any significant manner," she said, mood darkening. "They broke fast. Once we realized all executioners had fallen and the situation couldn't be salvaged, we decided to retreat and report."

"... You also refused to tell me the nature of your assailants."

She shivered in a way that repulsed her, fists clenching to stave off the shaking. Faceless shouldn't be able to feel like this. Still, she was helpless against that wave of despair and dread that washed her common sense every time she remembered the way those executioners she once craved to equal had been slaughtered like cattle, the way comrades she had spent years fighting besides screamed as they were turned into bloody meat toys. She doubted this faker would have been so eager to talk about it too if they had been there to see it.

"... It was a dark night, sir, even for us," she forced herself to say. "They hit us from nowhere, and the situation quickly grew chaotic. All I remember were flashes of plated armor and large two handed weapons."

"Nothing else? Not the language they spoke, their style of fighting, anything?"

She tried not to lose her composure at the disbelief in their voice. They had laughed, they had howled, they had jeered; animals needed little else. "As I said, it was a chaotic night. Sir."

The next few seconds of silence were precious. Her patience had been exhausted, and things would need to move forward. Reaching through the folds of her Mark, she pulled her last javelin towards the surface, keeping it ready to eject the moment it became of need; now, she just needed the right moment.

"... You suffered a lot, didn't you?"

The words caught her by surprise. So much so, she nearly slipped, having to awkwardly brace herself for footing as she stumbled right into a murky pond. The loss of momentum affected her more than anything as she scrambled out of the water. She had been operating under the assumption that they hadn't believed a word out of her mouth, and if-

"I understand your pain. But I'm afraid that no matter how much you've suffered, I cannot let you go."

She had expected it. She knew the farce would only last so long. That she had been taken unaware, even for a second, was her mistake alone.

By the time she turned around, the Traitor was already gone.

The sound was so soft she almost ignored it. A reflex born out of years sparring among her unit was all that saved her life.

She felt the wind of the blow as she threw herself down, a shade quietly disappearing in the corner of her Mark. She fell grasping for the ground, pushing herself off the edge of a small drop into a bed of solid roots, turning again just in time to see the enemy overtake her. Her javelin flew wild, disappearing into the darkness above, not remotely close to even glancing.

No time for fine tuned plans; no time for traps or deceit; it was kill or be killed.

She needed distance. Putting all her strength in her legs, she launched herself the opposite direction, shattering the roots into a cloud of splinters. Her next projectile was made ready, the precious short sword she had earned when she first joined her unit, a gift she had chosen herself from the Remnants armory.

The world, however, would not have it. In the haste of her flight, every moment was a different struggle against the Floodlands itself, its gnarled, barbed limbs snagging at her step, tearing at her armor, curling at her neck! With each distraction, each obstacle, the soft steps approached, wooden shrapnel buffeting her armor with muffled explosions.

"Comrade, I will not give you the chance to surrender." The Traitor's voice echoed from close by, "I will not insult you so."

"Insult!" she said, the forest turning to a blur around her. "Your existence insults our very way of life, you-!"

There was no pain when her she left the ground. She hit a tree, her shoulder immediately dislocated by the impact, and she fell like a rag-doll. Instinct kicked in again as she hit the floor, evading the following blow of grace that cracked the tree to its middle by a quarter of a second. She didn't wait; she was on her feet and running the next second, only to turn around and let loose as she heard her target pursue.

The aim was true this time, it were her expectations that failed her; the Traitor had been expecting the projectile, dodging without pause as if they had seen its trajectory before its release. Her gift flew away beyond reach, and she knew there no running any further.

She realized she was paralyzed. Why wasn't she moving? Had she not been drilled, reminded, brought before her peers with every failure and taught what it meant to disappoint her birth duty? The First Mission had no place for failures. The Faceless had no use for fear. She knew this with every fiber of her being.

Then why was she afraid?

No, she wasn't, she couldn't be. That was beneath her!

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She had a final trick up her sleeve. Her halberd, her de facto weapon against the Tale Heirs, double headed, one side demonium and the other steel. Her right arm wasn't moving well, her back flaring in agony every time she tried bringing it to bear. but her left still had more than enough strength to cleave that piece of shit in half.

"Glories to Eligor." They said as she pulled the halberd out with a silent squelch.

She had one opportunity, and she wouldn't miss it. She couldn't miss it! The Traitor came homed in, swerving at the last moment to her left. She didn't miss it, they way their body lowered to nearly a crouch, a tactic she had seen a thousand times before, practiced even! She swung low with all her might-

And so, when she realized she had missed, that the Traitor had dropped to the ground like snake, a level even the executioners of her unit wouldn't dare try, a though crossed her mind.

She didn't want to die.

The serpent bit, twisting in the filth with unbelievable strength. An elbow met her right above the right breast with such cold precision it had to be deliberate. Time slowed down as her ribcage gave under her many layers of protection, something deeply precious and previously unknown bursting beyond repair, the intense burn left in the wake of its destruction accompanying her in her flight.

Her back hit something, her spine shattering to pieces. This time, she didn't get up.

The spams began not a minute later. Her entire body contracted, from the muscles of her fingers to the impossible tendons of her Mark, arms and legs trying to retracted inside the safety of her torso as they stiffened. Her vision blurred as her inheritance, her sole pride and sign she had been chosen by the cause began to reverse, her ability to perceive reality crippled as her control over her body disappeared.

This couldn't be happening. She had survived, she had escaped, all she needed were a few meager supplies so she could tell her comrades what awaited them on the other side of the wall. What kind of sick joke was this?!

A blur closed in, slowly. standing over her quivering body.

"Glories to the Peaceful Night. May you finally rest well, comrade."

At the name, her death recoiled, her sight sharpening for just an instant.

Its how she saw it. A ridged shade, limbs like sticks keeping it steady on branches far too thin for its bulk as it stalked down towards her killer, just waiting for them to finish the task.

Its how she realized she had been played all along. She had been let out with a purpose, after all.

She tried to laugh, in vain as her weapon cleaved through her neck.

Such rotten luck!

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With Agare's exit, came a desperate scramble to get the Oke out of the hole.

Strong of body, Holly had rather immediately been asked to help with the physical labor. To her surprise, as she tried to lift the trunk out of their path, Furfu joined her instead of standing guard, Blades and Rosen taking the role instead and patrolling their surroundings while Lilly joined Aleh inside, their purposes unknown.

Furfu was amazing. Stronger than her, probably, diving into her tasks with a gusto even her trembling hands couldn't stop. The rotting tree laid in the woods, Furfu began to dig the corners of the sinkhole with mechanical precision, already having identified the ramp too frail and narrow to handle the Oke.

Holly would have loved to say the work took her mind out of the situation, but every time a blade of grass was rustled and Rosen took stance with that strange silver knife he had pulled out of nowhere, or Blades rapine vigil caught notice of something no one else had, her heart would catch in her chest.

Perhaps, however, that nothing happened was worse.

Dusk Arrived. Agare did not return.

It was wrong to say the work was harder than she expected, she had expected nothing, but certainly not to be worn to the bone like this either. Caving in the walls to create the base of the ramp was simple enough, cutting through the underground jungle of roots, fibrous fungi, and unknowable substances left to ferment and harden in abandoned critter dens, however, was the real challenge which Holly had to handle the brunt of, her nails about the only thing that could do it with ease. The battleaxe that Foroca had left behind, alas, did its best but proved lacking.

"It doesn't need to be perfect," Rosen had said, piping in from nowhere. "Oke's were created with rough terrains in mind. So long as there's enough road it doesn't topple back in, we'll make it out."

"I-I guess!" Holly said, tearing through a net of hair-thin offshoots. "Are you okay, Rosen?"

"Me? Ha! Can't you see these muscles?!" Rosen said with a mirthless chuckle and a half-hearted pat of his bicep. "I am not a Faceless, but neither am I a garden flower, girl."

"I know, but you were right there when she appeared... She didn't hurt you or anything, did she?"

"No, don't worry, nothing that we couldn't handle!" The pensive look he threw towards nothing in particular, however, spoke of a different opinion.

"W-why did she treat you both like that in the first place?! So mean! Aren't you supposed to be friends? O-or comrades, anyway!"

"Ha, a Faceless, alone, around these parts? Probably having a rough week, I'd wager. Don't quote me on that, thought: remember, I don't like guessing what my superiors think."

She stopped, turning in his direction. "I-I... Not that I disagree your mindset or anything, but..."

"But you think I should start, right?"

the glance he gave her was meaningful, and not in a way she wanted to unravel. She went back to the job at hand.

Night arrived. Agare did not return.

Aleh managed to coax the Oke into making the climb out and some several paces away. The poor thing felt worn out, the vicious swarm of shredding Merurgy that once protected its shell now thinner, pliant, and so passive it could barely bother with the reaching fingers of her Will creeping its way. Once she did press, however, it turned vicious like a cornered animal, leaving a few hands several fingers lighter, a wound that wouldn't bleed but did leave her light headed for some many seconds.

"Agare said we should only wait one hour past sundown," Almalilly said, closing a small round device with a copper shell and a thick line of thread around her hand. "That was thirty minutes ago."

"Lucky him," Aleh, who had just climbed out the cabin and now dangled his legs down towards them, commented. "In my professional opinion, this little darling won't be moving any time soon, unless you mean to cripple its security measures for the foreseeable future."

"Young sir, I don't think you should stay this exposed," Rosen said. "And If the sir thinks-"

Aleh clicked his tongue, jumping down with an elegant twirl. "Rosen, get this through your thick head: 99% of all Faceless don't care about enchantment beyond which side of the blade it sharpens best, and I would not put my hands to the flame arguing your little 'sir' is any different in that regard."

"What I mean, young-"

"Or if you would prefer: we rode the Homunculus dry with prejudice this past week, keeping its defenses and speed at such high outputs all times of the day. If it were an older specimen there wouldn't be any problems, but mine is practically a juvenile, if it gets pushed any further it will be break long before we get to the last legs of the mission, that is, the most difficult segment we must face!"

"Can't we compromise?" Lilly said, rubbing at her chin with a frown. "Keep the security up and move as slowly as possible?"

"A-and what's a Homunculus?" Holly said.

Aleh opened and closed his mouth a couple times, then sighed with a shake of head. "I promise I will explain it to you once we are out of this mess, Holly, but please wait for now. And as for a compromise, depends on if you assume the worst case scenario, and that tattered urethra won somehow and is going to bring her buddies for the next wave. If you do, I wouldn't recommend it."

Rosen and Lilly's faces darkened. Holly looked on to Blades and Furfu, who were busy watching the woods, but neither seemed like they had something to say.

"Can't Say I like the idea of staying either," Lilly said. "The whole thing stinks something fierce."

"No shit." Aleh turned, giving their vehicle another once over. "Wish I could say we are having a string of bad luck, yet can't blind myself to the undercurrent of purpose behind it."

They could see it then.

"I don't enjoy the idea of being a sitting duck, but I will defer my decision," Rosen said. "With your leave?"

"Think we can get at least a little further from that pit?" Almalilly followed suit. "Would help me sleep tonight."

Aleh clicked his tongue. "I suppose I can-"

"Get inside, now."

Blades' words hushed the party.

"Explain yourself, at least?!" Aleh said.

"Listen." Blades whispered, taking a step back.

Holly had to strain her hearing to understand, the first thing to alert her not any particular sound but the absence of them. The jungle was growing quiet, the once exuberant insects and birds distancing themselves little by little, until they were completely enveloped in silence.

... No, not silence. There was another noise, or several even, faint and distant yet picking up speed with every second, coming from the left of the road, a strange sort of constant friction, trickling and dripping and-

She realized the answer just as the first stream broke through the vegetation, some six or seven paces away from her, bringing a thin line of debris on its back. Water, too much water, slithering rivulets quickly surrounding them until the road began to fill with pools, some clear, some murky and ridden with frightened pests.

"Shit!"

The sharp cry broke their collective awe. Furfu jumped back as if the flood was toxic, Blades following quickly behind.

"Blades, Rosen, take arms now!" That would be Aleh, screaming behind her. "I want you both watching from above, kill anything that approaches! Asshole, what are you staring at?! Get one of your Faceless tricks out, any of them, now!"

"I-I-!" Furfu babbled, somewhere besides her.

"Hopeless fucking thing! Almalilly!"

"On it!"

A hand grasped her fingers, trying to pull her out of her daze. The unusual gesture did bring her back, for an instant.

"Holly, we need to get inside!" Had she ever seen Aleh this panicked before? "Something is coming, something exceedingly bad, something-"

"I know."

He stopped moving, staring at her in confusion. It was a nice, to be reminded she wasn't alone anymore.

Still, for all they could see it, they couldn't see it the way she did. They couldn't see the inferno laying beneath the water, about to devour the entire world as she knew it. She hadn't been entirely alone back then either. Maybe if she had told them, they would have a solution at the tip of their tongues. Maybe she would come to regret not having said more.

One of the streams rushed towards her feet, turning into a puddle around her toes. The wet cold that seeped into her she didn't feel with her body.

"Mariwa, I have come for you."

To say she shivered would be an understatement of the repulse that wracked her body. That Will was like God, like hers, real and solid in a way nothing in the world used to be, yet so different she would rather experience that starved boulder crushing her again. It was slick, smooth, soft in a way she could only guess was meant to convey some sense intimacy or gentleness, yet the way it branched and wrapped itself around her pushing limbs made her feel like she was sinking into a ball of worms.

"Cast away your parasites, Mariwa, the misshapen degenerates who would dare pull the magnificent into the muck of vermin. Let the lice flounder and drown into the grand blue depths of the Lady's domain!"

"Get away from me!" Holly screamed through her Will, arms that were not arms in a frantic battle against the foreign body crawling over her. It was hopeless; where she scratched, the skin resisted, and were she plucked the worms branched, disappearing as if they had never been there where she ambushed to tear apart. "My name is Holly! Holly Seneschal!"

"My Mariwa, why would you fight so?" the pity that was injected right into her, like a bloated burrowleech piercing through the skin of her thumb, almost made her gag. "Why would you deny yourself so? Could these animals have erased the beauty of your blood from your eyes?!"

"You are the animal!" she tried to escape, in vain; her body could step back, yet the grip holding down her will was stronger than steel. she pushed and fought the only ways she knew to. "You child! Loser! Traitor!"

"Can you not feel your own purity, my gorgeous Mariwa?!" She realize with a start she was helpless. They spoke, and the venom grew more potent with every word. "Blinded to the blood, to the crimson beauty from the Lake Mother and the Brave Father! No, blinded by the filth of the mud crawling beasts! Disgusting!"

This wasn't good. She could feel it, the wrath and vicious bloodthirst, eagerly searching for her companions, ignoring her every rebuke as if she wasn't even speaking.

"Holly!"

Perhaps it was the way she was moving, or the way she couldn't take her eyes off the water.

What happened next occurred too fast for her to react. Aleh jumped right in front of her, his sleeve pulled back and his wrist crawling with twisting distortions, plunging his arm into the puddle around her feet. injecting himself in the midst of the battle. A mass of predatorial intent crawled over her, prickling legs moving at dizzying speeds, savagery carved into every smidge of its body, tearing into the foreign body like a gale of knives while doing her no harm worse than a caress.

"Holly, I will distract it for a second, pull yourself out!" he yelled, never breaking his focus,

"N-no, Aleh, stop!"

"Now! I can't hold against it for long!"

Aleh was admirable. Nothing like the mist she had once felt, this was sheer aggression, a desire to harm that belied human nature condensed like a blade. For that brief fright, it dominated the conflict , an unbidden and feral creature lashing out with endless fangs and countless claws.

In the end, it was too hollow, too fake. For all its quality, it was a projection, a sensation with no depth. The moment she caught on to it, so did their enemy.

The retaliation came swiftly, a scourging mass of tendrils that struck without discrimination, tearing the illusion to pieces like paper. Memories from her conflict against God prepared her for the attack, allowing her to brace herself against the worst of it, but Aleh had no such experience. The puddle exploded around them, And Aleh's head snapped back with a strangled gasp.

Knowing it wouldn't stop there, she pushed Aleh away. In her panic, she didn't measure her strength, and Aleh was thrown. The sound of him striking the Oke's side sank her heart. She watched as he dropped to the ground, limp, as if through a window. For a moment, she even forgot she was there at all.

"Young sir!" Rosen's voice woke her from the stupor, as he jumped down and rushed to Aleh's side. "Hold on, I'm getting you out of here!"

"Lilly!" That was Blades. "Fuck the Homunculus, we need to leave now!"

"I'm trying, it's not answering me!"

"So this is the level of their depravity," the other Will said, frighteningly placid. "Impudent scavengers, host of foul divine mimicry. To think they would interfere in this holy moment..."

"Please, stop!" She begged, wrapping herself around them to hold them back, and quickly finding how little it did as the worms slipped through her embrace. "Leave them alone!"

"Mariwa, my Mariwa, I have come to rescue you from this. Await me, for no pest shall stand between you and your freedom."

It was happening all over again.

Regular humans were not built for this, no matter how Marquise insisted otherwise. Lesser Hollow had defied God, and they had paid. Her comrades had tried to protect her, and they would pay for it too.

That was why Elder Seneschal had entrusted their safety to her.

That was why Holly Seneschal took the decision she took, whatever may become of her in the morning.

"Let not the tainted get a hold of you," The other Will said, water flooding all around her legs and quickly reaching for Rosen and Aleh. "For the ancestors-"

"Stop."

She didn't know what she had reached for, but the strength behind her command gave pause to the enemy. She took a deep breath.

"I'm free. I'm coming to you."

"My Mariwa, have you seen the light?"

"Yes. I'm coming to you."

"Praised be! For the Given Blood, for Old Vetara!" Happiness flooded into her, and she struggled to not let it settle. "Follow my Divine Intent! Force me to wait no further! Let us be reunited"

"A-Aleh," she tried to say, but the words came frail even to herself. "A-Aleh! I'm sorry! I-I shouldn't have... no, doesn't matter, we can talk about this later. I-I'll be right back, okay? I'm not giving up on the Marquise's mission! Please tell that to Agare if he comes back before me!"

"Holly!" Blades called.

"B-Blades! I-I'm not giving up on Lilly's dream either, alright?! I-I'm going to deal with this really quick, and then be right back!"

"No, don't-"

Too late. Holding to the foreign Will like a hand offered, she broke into a sprint, leaving them behind.

She wouldn't let things reach the point they did on the Lesser again.