06-25-2009, 04:31 AM
1)
It was no good, the souls around him were too overwhelming making it almost impossible to think.
He tried anyway, tried to block out all the sound and focus. The ring, why had he remembered the ring?
It wasn't the same one that he saw on Robin's finger when Balthus completely took over; that one was gold and had some kind of stone set in it. The one in his vision was a simple silver band, like a woman's wedding ring. Did Robin still have it? Could she have lost it? He fought to remember something, anything as the spiritual assault continued.
There was a string, Robin always wore it around her neck, always hidden under her clothes. Could that be it?
His head felt like it was being torn apart from the outside. He could feel a maelstrom of fear and anger and sorrow and loss growing stronger to the point where he could almost make out words.
Someone or something was coming.
"Always figured you for a soulless bastard," Marcus remarked, shifting his grip a little on his only weapon. "Nice to see you agree with me for once."
"And only once."
"And Balthus is just going to roll over and die at your feet? Ha! You're even more dense that I thought."
"Unlike you, traitor, I won't let him read my thoughts. He'll never suspect a thing until it is far too late."
"You sound sure of yourself."
"The boy isn't doing well is he," Tiberius oozed. "Pity, I had hoped to study him further. Looks like he won't even last the hour."
For a mere moment, Marcus' gaze flickered over to the fallen half-elf.
Tiberius' eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "So, you have a soft spot for the boy? You surprise me Marcus again. What could possibly mean to you."
Marcus shrugged. "He means one less corpse in this place. Not like you'd understand, Tiberius. You said yourself, you have no soul."
"True," the old man said and drew his hands and the crossbow they held from behind his back. "I don't." He quickly aimed, not at the Guardian, but at Daniel's helpless body on the floor, and pulled the trigger.
It was no good, the souls around him were too overwhelming making it almost impossible to think.
He tried anyway, tried to block out all the sound and focus. The ring, why had he remembered the ring?
It wasn't the same one that he saw on Robin's finger when Balthus completely took over; that one was gold and had some kind of stone set in it. The one in his vision was a simple silver band, like a woman's wedding ring. Did Robin still have it? Could she have lost it? He fought to remember something, anything as the spiritual assault continued.
There was a string, Robin always wore it around her neck, always hidden under her clothes. Could that be it?
His head felt like it was being torn apart from the outside. He could feel a maelstrom of fear and anger and sorrow and loss growing stronger to the point where he could almost make out words.
Someone or something was coming.
* * *
"Always figured you for a soulless bastard," Marcus remarked, shifting his grip a little on his only weapon. "Nice to see you agree with me for once."
"And only once."
"And Balthus is just going to roll over and die at your feet? Ha! You're even more dense that I thought."
"Unlike you, traitor, I won't let him read my thoughts. He'll never suspect a thing until it is far too late."
"You sound sure of yourself."
"The boy isn't doing well is he," Tiberius oozed. "Pity, I had hoped to study him further. Looks like he won't even last the hour."
For a mere moment, Marcus' gaze flickered over to the fallen half-elf.
Tiberius' eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "So, you have a soft spot for the boy? You surprise me Marcus again. What could possibly mean to you."
Marcus shrugged. "He means one less corpse in this place. Not like you'd understand, Tiberius. You said yourself, you have no soul."
"True," the old man said and drew his hands and the crossbow they held from behind his back. "I don't." He quickly aimed, not at the Guardian, but at Daniel's helpless body on the floor, and pulled the trigger.