Hangman Chapter 61

Chapter 61-

Sonsee’s bare feet crushed the thin layer of snow that had settled to the ground.

Two royal guards ran through the palace halls, the sound of their footsteps crashing off of the walls. They turned a corner and stopped in their tracks. A fellow guard lay at their feet, unconscious, his coat stripped from his shoulders.

She blitzed her way through the forest, the stolen coat flapping behind her; she made sure to keep off the main gravel road. Just up ahead, the light of the guard post was lit aflame. Slowing her pace, Sonsee edged her way to the barrier, so that she could see the guard’s cold face staring into the darkness.

“[VANISHING POINT]!”

Before he knew what had hit him, the watchman was on the ground. Sonsee quickly rifled through his things with a speck of guilt; she knew he’d wake up with a sore head, and she didn’t really have anything against him.

“Sorry,” she thought, pulling a key from his pocket. “Desperate times suspend your values, I suppose…”

---

Shots rang through the courtyard. Suddenly, Jericho appeared feet away from where he had been standing, crop drawn.

The rod in his hand crackled with a scarlet lightning that pulsed through its length. Jericho whipped the air, tracing a thin line from which a streak of red light launched forward through the falling snow like a wide, straight ribbon toward Gallow, who narrowly avoided it by yanking himself away with Navigator.

“I shot two bullets at him in the blink of an eye,” Gallow thought. “But he was able to dodge them at only a little over ten feet? What’s his ability??”

Gallow aimed the shaft of his gun straight at Jericho, pulling the trigger faster than the eye could see.

“There!” He’d caught something. Jericho again dodged and repeated his attack, this time throwing out two ribbons which Gallow was forced to duck under. Jericho dashed in, closing the distance between them by a few feet. His crop flew through the air with blinding speed, snapping with blood-red electricity.

“[NAVIGATOR]!!”

Gallow’s Vocation surged forth, catching the crop in its hand.

“Neat,” Gallow grunted. The contact his spirit body was having with the energy was sending the tingling sensation of pins and needles all over his body; it was all he could do to keep from falling over. “So… your little rod there is an abstract attack… But that’s not your Vocation, is it?”

Jericho maintained a flat face; if he stopped channeling his spirit through his crop, Onnes, Gallow would be able to retaliate with Navigator. For the moment, they were in check.

“I saw it for a second there,” Gallow went on, forcing a smile through the bodily pain. “Your body moved before I even shot, but that’s not what your whip does, so it’s something else, isn’t it? I saw it, I’m telling you, for a heartbeat, there was something behind you, swinging.”

Jericho didn’t look impressed. The glow of his crop and Gallow’s spirit painted two different shades across their faces and shone in the snow. “Even if you knew my ability, you wouldn’t be any safer.”

“Big talker, huh?” Gallow was more psyching himself up for what he was about to try.

Jericho blinked a few times. “I really need to subdue you.”

Gallow bared his teeth. “Fat chance!” he cried with blazing intent.

A short, “Huh?” escaped Jericho’s lips before an explosion rocked his body. He shrieked with pain as he was enveloped in a sphere of blue flame, sending him back fifteen feet.

The Inquisitor smashed his boot into the snow, pushing off of his knee to lift himself up again. His cap had flown off, his long, straight hair tossed into his raging eyes.

“[NAVIGATOR- BLUES]!!”

Gallow stood across Jericho, Navigator floating in the air beside him, five small cigar-shaped capsules orbiting its right wrist. From way off on the balcony, Ky’s hands were gripped so hard to the railing his knuckles were white, his eyes glued to the fantastic scene unraveling in front of him.

“That’s the conspirator?!” he asked, almost drooling.

“Yes, general,” by this point, the servants had given up on trying to usher him away, and merely stood by Persicho to protect the prince.

Ky had never seen anyone battle with powers like his before, none besides Leon. A thought appeared in his mind, and abruptly took over all of its space.

“Whichever of these two win, I’m going to fight him!”

Jericho’s grip tightened around his crop. “What kind of lame gimmick is that?”

Instead of replying, Gallow fired another spirit bullet in his direction; Jericho rushed forward.

“He isn’t moving before I fire,” Gallow realized. “There’s some trick to his prediction that doesn’t work with physical bullets.”

The bullet flew through the air more akin to a missile, diving and spiralling as it nearly scraped his shoulder. Jericho closed in until he was only a few feet from Gallow, who drew his revolver. Navigator rushed forward to intercept the whip, but Jericho leapt up and backwards, flinging it wildly.

A barrage of crimson streaks screamed through the air; Gallow couldn’t recall Navigator quickly enough and was forced to throw himself to the grass without its physical enhancements.

Jericho landed only feet away and lunged forward. Suddenly, something snapped into his spirit sense.

“The Pendulum is swinging back!”

Gallow was still on the ground, a flash of light erupted from his gun, and the bullet rocketed through the air where Jericho had already dived away.

“[NAVIGATOR]!!”

Navigator took shape from nothingness and delivered a solid blow to Jericho’s side, knocking him over. For a moment, he merely sputtered on the ground, again lifting himself to his feet.

“Damn it!” he thought. “I lost track of his-” He clutched his side where he’d been hit, gritting his teeth so hard he thought they’d crack.

Gallow stood up and pointed straight at his foe’s leg.

“--!!” Jericho felt the Pendulum’s swing. “It’s coming my way!!”

Through the immense pain, he smashed his foot into the earth and kicked off, launching himself at forty miles per hour to a point only six feet away from Gallow. For a brief instant, they locked eyes, Jericho’s hair swirling from the breeze, snowflakes still stuck to his red locks. A moment later, he was behind him. There was no time to react, even with Navigator.

“What-?”

A woosh through the air, and searing pain scarred itself into Gallow’s back.

“AAAGH!!”

His cry rang out through the courtyard before he fell to the ground, his face planted in the fresh snow. Jericho panted, his shoulders heaving as he keeled over, one arm propped up by his bent knee. After recovering some of his breath, he straightened himself out and looked to the darkened, cloudy sky, still dancing with snowflakes. Abruptly, he felt a sensation on his forehead, and confusedly wiped some water off of it.

“That’s strange,” he thought. “That can’t be melted snow…” A sense of relief and lightheartedness flooded him once he understood what he was feeling.

“That’s funny,” he thought, his lips loosening a bit. “I almost forgot I could sweat.”

Jericho took a step forward, grimacing as he could still feel a terrible ache from his side. Walking it off, he attached his crop to a small holster at his waist and picked Gallow up off the snow-dusted grass.

From the balcony, Ky’s grin was so manic it made the servants grateful that they had kept their distance. As Jericho vanished into the night with Gallow’s body, he threw himself back from the rail, startling the servants back.

“Alright!” he boomed. “I’ve seen enough, let’s hit it!”

Persicho took a moment to smile in the way that one only can to a friend. “Okay,” he replied, pushing through the servants. “Let’s get you home.”

---

Sonsee leaned against the wall of a deserted alleyway, catching her breath.

“Where do I go?” was the first question on her mind. Rodan and Dana were gone, and Gallow was well outside of her range of detection. “I don’t know anyone else here…” dread slowly tightened its grip on her. First, she was wanted in parts of Andeidra for murdering Fars, now she was public enemy number one of an entire country; there was nowhere she could turn that would even take her in.

“Except…” a wild guess zipped through her mind.

---

A rock bounced off the side of the hull, making a loud banging noise.

“Thornlove!”

Another rock.

“Captain Thornlove!”

…

Another rock.

“Catherine!”

A monstrous creaking sound as a door swung open; a familiar voice screamed through the night.

“What the hell do you want?!!”

Thornlove was wearing little more than a tank top and shorts, her hair was unkempt, and she looked none too pleased. Her expression melted to confusion touched by worry when she saw Sonsee’s own state of dress.

“Is something… wrong?” she called down awkwardly from the deck’s railing.

“I need a little help,” came Sonsee’s reply.

Minutes later, she was warming up in the captain’s quarters after Lyric had found her an extra blanket. Thornlove couldn’t sit down, unlike Lyric, who was still comfortably in bed, and stood in front of Sonsee with arms folded. She brought a finger to her temple, scowling.

“So that-” she whispered something inaudible but undoubtedly vulgar. “- got you involved in his little coup? And now you’re both terrorists?”

Sonsee wrung her hands together. “Like I said, it wasn’t all his fault. I got scared and…” She pondered her feelings for a moment. “I don’t know what I did… It was like I was angry, but very… calm… It was stupid, I’m out of options now.”

“So, what do you want me to do about it?”

Sonsee had buried her gaze in her lap, but brought it up to the captain. “What?”

Lamp light cast a soft glow on half of Thornlove’s face. “You came to me, so what are you asking for?”

Sonsee let out a heavy breath. “I don’t know, I’m only here because it’s a desperate situation. I don’t even know where Gallow is…”

Thornlove squinted. “Well, you better make up your mind, unless you’re planning on heading straight back to Andeidra with us.”

---

Most people shut themselves indoors at night, when those stricken with Exitis shambled through the streets. If one citizen looked up into the night sky, they might see a shape passing between the clouds.

Mara floated as light as a feather through the air, her parasol, which she called Tamar, spread over her head, angled so that she could be carried forward on the wind. She wore an annoyed expression, more so than her usual countenance.

“Jericho was so exhausted when he got back,” she reflected. “I couldn’t tend to him, though, no! Immediately it’s ‘Mara, track down the other one.’ The big one fell right into our lap and still I need to go through so much hassle to find ‘the other one,’ and of course it’s me… He can’t trust Dazey not to get lost on the way to the bathroom, and he wouldn’t dare let Shade out of his sight… Jericho looked kinda banged up, like he had some burn marks, what did that bastard do to him?!” She huffed silently, scanning the ground. “So many little people down there must be fast asleep now, I wonder if they think they’re safe?” It was terribly cold up by the stratosphere, but she had long ago dulled her sense of touch, yet still she felt the chill creeping into her through her legs, exposed to the elements by her wide-bottomed dress.

The motion of a typical night denizen was dramatically different from someone who was both sober and free of disease, and Mara’s hawk-like vision soon picked up on someone who fit the bill. There, down in the street was someone walking upright, at a stiff, swift pace. She swept in close to observe, as she became level with the roofs of buildings, however, she realized that it was just some poor soul running for water from the local pump in the middle of the night. Mara flew off without giving it a second thought. The man she’d been following stopped suddenly and looked up, hearing the sound of rushing wind above him when the night had been very still otherwise. Looking to the heavens, he saw Mara’s shadow zoom off into the sky, only visible enough to make out her dress.

“Sweet mercy!” he cried. “A witch!” and ran home to tell his wife.

Several more leads Mara went through before getting frustrated at how many people were just out and about that night. Clutching her parasol tightly, she vowed to demand the Exitis disease be made even more pervasive to scare off the citizens.

By the time she’d reached the docks, she was just about ready to return when the clouds parted. For the first time that night following the snow, the full moon was revealed above her. It shone radiantly into the ocean, stunning her for a moment. Mara was overcome by a desire to savor this moment, and gradually descended until her tall boots touched the ground covered in a small layer of snow. The edge of the docks was a surprisingly peaceful place at this hour, the crashing waves only accentuated the lack of commotion everywhere else.

Mara took a good long look at the view, soaking it in before deciding to return to the Heavensward Gladial.

Suddenly, she picked up on something; an unusually strong soul was just nearby. Her eyes darted around, trying to pinpoint where exactly the feeling was coming from.

“There!” A ship, not more than a few hundred feet away. Immediately, she reactivated her Vocation and lifted just an inch off the ground, speeding down the length of the docks, the tip of one boot closer to the ground barely dragging through the light snow. From up ahead, the spirit of whoever this was was absolutely massive, much heavier than a normal human and even more than the average Vocation user. It did not occur to her then that it may not have only been a single Vocation user.

---

Thornlove snapped to attention.

“Someone’s on the deck.” Her voice rasped with urgency.

Mara floated above the deck, not allowing her boots to hit its surface and make a single noise.

“Why is this ship so hazy?” she wondered, keeping her eyes alert for any movement. “It’s like it’s covered in fog.”

Thornlove had ensured that the fog projected by her Vocation was thin enough that her presence could not be felt, even by someone possessing an adept spirit sight. Before Mara could react, the door of the captain’s quarters flew open and she felt her body suddenly grasped by an unknown force. The world around her was sucked into blackness, and she zoomed forward at an incredible velocity.

The next sensation was a punch to the face and the hard steel ground of the deck.

“You-!!” she shrieked, blinded by rage and slamming her hand down to pop herself back up.

“[GRAVITY RIDES EVERYTHING]”

Her body was sent hurling to the ground yet again. Forced into an awkward, side-lounged position, Mara grit her teeth and looked furiously up to her captors.

“What-?” She struggled through the intense gravity applied to her body and found herself staring at not one, but three women.

Thornlove took command. “Who the hell are you?” she barked with authority. “And what are you doing on my ship?”

Mara could only gasp, so much pressure was being applied to her body that her breathing was too shallow to form words.

“Lyric,” Thornlove commanded. “Lighten the gravity a little.”

That word awoke interest in Mara. “Gravity?”

With a gesture, Lyric lessened the intensity of his ability on her, and she was finally able to speak. When Thornlove heard deeper breaths from their pursuer, she restated the question.

“Now, who are you and what are you doing here?” Her voice was icy and jagged.

Mara cast her eyes to Sonsee, looking her up and down. “I’ve come to collect her.”

Thornlove narrowed her eyes. “You say that like you can stand up.”

Mara’s mouth twisted in a devious smirk. “You don’t think I can?”

“Don’t bluff with me, tart. Do you know how lightning forms?”

Mara lifted an eyebrow through her sinister grin. “Lightning?”

“If the negative ions in a cloud and the positive ions in the ground get too big, they’ll send a charge from one to the other. It’s not too hard for me to separate those if I make a cloud right above your head.”

Mara nearly laughed. “Thanks for the science lesson, I have one for you.”

“Shut up,” Thornlove laid down her words like law.

“You said you were only keeping me down by gravity?” Mara asked rhetorically. “Have you ever seen a feather float?”

Thornlove was quiet for a moment, eyeing her up and down. “What are you getting at?” she asked carefully.

“Well, it doesn’t matter how strong gravity is,” Mara explained. “Because a feather is too light to be affected by it very much.”

“I understand that, get back on point.” Thornlove was losing her patience.

“Did you know that my parasol is made of steel?” Mara asked, only able to crane her neck slightly in its direction.

“Wha-?” Thornlove couldn’t get a word out before Mara activated her Vocation.

“[DIVA DESTRUCTION]!!”

Instantaneously, her body became nearly 200 times less dense than the average human’s, and a sudden gust of wind encircled her, lifting her up above the ship in a heartbeat.

As quickly as she’d descended, Mara zipped towards them in an “L” path. She spun around mid-air and slammed her boot headlong into Lyric, arms raised to block the attack. For a split second, she dramatically increased the density of her body, and he crashed back into the wall of the turret.

“Lyric!” Thornlove cried, losing her composure for a moment. That moment was all Mara needed to send her heel back flying towards her. Sonsee dashed forward and knocked Mara’s leg off its path before sending her elbow into her back.

The effect of Diva Destruction was instant, and Mara had already made her body as dense as lead for the single second she anticipated the strike to last, so Sonsee felt as if her elbow had collided with a solid brick wall.

“Ah!” she screamed, falling backwards, ready to cry from the pain. Before she knew it, a gust of wind blew her hair back and dried her eyes. Mara’s arm wrapped around her, and her parasol enshrouded Sonsee’s back.

The sensation of becoming light as a feather was uncomfortable; Sonsee’s entire body felt almost as if she were leaving a dream and lacked any muscle or nerve feedback.

Thornlove watched Mara soaring off the ship with her hostage and scowled.

“[THE CURE]!!” she snapped her outstretched fingers, and almost instantly, a truck-sized cloud formed above Mara’s head. Lightning burst from it within the second, and electricity surged through Mara’s body.

All that could be heard was the roar of point-blank thunder and the screech of pain which erupted from Mara’s lungs.

Sonsee was blinded by the light, and moments later felt herself falling to the ground, or, more accurately, floating. Nearby, Mara spun out through the air. Around her neck, she wore a small black stone which allowed her control over nearby wind currents. While she had grown quite skilled at using it in concert with her Vocation, it still required an amount of focus to use, and the intense, searing pain that had lashed her body was making it nearly impossible to focus the winds.

Flying headfirst towards a building on the waterfront, she was forced into a fierce survival instinct.

“Don’t split your focus, just stay light!!” flashed through her mind.

Gracelessly, she hit the brick wall of the building’s front and bounced off with little harm done.

Mara landed with both knees on the street, panting and writhing in residual agony. She heard footsteps approaching, and before she knew it, she was staring down the shaft of a spear.

Sonsee stood before her, weapon in hand and half-naked.

“You like it?” she asked, taking some relief in Mara’s discontent. “I hid it in a little spot in town.”

Mara returned only a hateful stare. If she was in fighting form, she could easily disable Sonsee, but the blast she’d suffered would require some time to recover. She edged herself backwards slightly, and felt a crack inside.

“Damn,” she thought. “I need to get out of here, I can’t take another hit!”

“Now,” Sonsee directed her. “Can you tell me what you’re here for?”

Mara couldn’t let her know she had the upper hand so definitively. “We already have Gallow,” she spat. “And the Object of Despair he was holding on to.”

Sonsee’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?” she asked, focused.

Mara smirked. “Oh, you don’t know? The little orb he was keeping in his pocket. I don’t know how you got your hands on it, but we’re happy to reclaim it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sonsee stated in a tone that told her she didn’t want any explanation. “All I want to know is why you’ve taken Gallow.”

“Well, you two are criminals, now,” Mara answered smugly. “It just makes sense that-”

Sonsee pushed the tip of the spear closer to the Inquisitor’s face. “That’s not what I mean, and you know it. You smell the same as that thing on the ship.”

Confusion dawned over Mara’s face. “What?”

“That- thing!” Sonsee insisted. “It was like some kind of doll-person!”

“Doll… person-?” Mara wondered aloud before stopping herself. A realization came over her, and she couldn’t hide her surprise.

“What?” Sonsee twisted her hand around the spear’s shaft. “You don’t know?”

“That’s… very interesting…” Mara looked lost in thought as multiple pieces came together in her mind.

“If you don’t tell me what’s going on, I swear I’ll-”

“Come to the Heavensward Gladial,” Mara cut her off. “Do you know where that is? Down below is where Gallow is. There’s no way in or out unless it’s through us, so if you’d really like to find him, I implore you to introduce yourself.”

“The-?”

Before Sonsee could finish her question, an incredible gust of wind enveloped Mara and sent her flying backwards before she rose up into the air. In a flash, she was gone, zipping through the clouds.

Sonsee looked up at the sky. “Wait!!” she yelled, now alone. When she returned to the ship, Thornlove was busy treating Lyric’s injury.

“His left arm is fractured in two places,” she muttered as she finished a quickly made splint. She was facing away from Sonsee, working under the lamp light.

Sonsee looked down at the floor of the cabin. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything,” Thornlove told her bluntly.

“Sonsee, it’s really alright,” Lyric comforted her.

“I’m sorry,” was all she could say.

“Don’t be,” he assured her. “You weren’t the one who attacked us, so don’t get it in your head that you need to feel like you did.”

She sighed and leaned back. Lyric gave her a kind smile, ignoring the pain in his arm.

“All done,” Thornlove announced. She and Lyric exchanged an intimate look before she stood up. “Get down to the same quarters you used before, we’ll sort this out in the morning.”

---

The cold night air had turned frigid, and Mara sped through the very tops of buildings to the Heavensward Gladial. She could feel her insides cracking and snapping, pieces grinding against each other.

As she touched down at the chamber of the tower’s apex, she was immediately overcome with the presence of her lord.

“Milord,” she knelt down in reverence. “I was… Unsuccessful in my mission.”

The voice from the darkness echoed. “I see that.” A footstep hit the ground, and Mara’s eyes sunk in terror. Walking towards her, out of the shadows, was her Lord, her creator, Jesua Saibit Bach. His black papal robes nearly blended him into the night, but his skin, so pale and ghostly, painted him out. She dared not look at him, his eyes were worn and grey, yet when they glowed a blood-red color his senior face looked suddenly young and blazing. His hair, long black locks that descended with a youthful glow, spots of grey speckled throughout like some kind of flower.

“Milord,” she repeated. “I directed her here; she’s a criminal, so it’s only a matter of time before she’s left with no other options.”

Bach’s stony face peered down at her, his eyes drilling into her soul. “You’re injured,” he stated.

“Yes, milord, I need repair. I’m beginning to break inside.”

He was silent for a moment before turning around and stepping back into the shadows. “Follow me.”

“Yes, milord.”

Mara stood to her feet and walked steadily into the darkness, knowing that Shade waited somewhere within.

Bach’s hands pressed to her body, and they began the painful process of repair.