Demon Slayer

Shock. His heart raced wildly. A criminal? He was a criminal? This could not be happening, what was Jacob thinking? They had fought together in Ikana, had faced armies of the undead together, had tolerated Loft together, and this was what happened? Marcus had even saved his and his wyvern's life multiple times; the man literally owed him a blood debt. Yet, here he was, trying to make him into a convicted criminal.

Marcus' first reaction escaped his lips before he could think over his words. "That's got to be the stupidest thing I've ever heard in my life. And, please bear in mind that I spend much of my time with Loft. Aiding and abetting people who harmed Hyrule? I have no idea what you're talking about. I never signed any contract. Legally, I was not bound to the Ganon worshippers or their actions in any way, shape, or form. I also never made any actions aiding the mages. In fact, the opposite is true; I willingly sabotaged their experiment and helped destroy the demon. There was no deed, and there was no intent. The job was never explained to me, and therefore I cannot be found guilty of intending to aid and abet the mages. Without an intent, without a deed, and without any evidence, there is no case.

"Essentially, what I am telling you is that there is no legal reason for you to arrest me. You don't want to arrest me because you know that I'm one of the 'good guys.' You fought with me in Ikana, and you know that I am dedicated to the protection and healing of innocent civilians; you don't want to arrest me. If you have no legal reason to arrest me, and you know that it's stupid to arrest me, then why are you still holding my arms down?"

Phiorra shook her head when Jacob started to arrest Marcus. “W-wait Jacob!” She put a hand on Jacob’s arm, trying to soothe him a bit. Marcus had helped. He’d healed her and had never really shown any attempt to help the demon or it’s worshippers. “These people...The cultists... That’s their weapon. Deceit. They trick people to get them to do their bidding, even if they don’t know what’s truly happening. Marcus is as much to blame as this cave is. He couldn’t control it.”

She was a priestess. She knew that people who had done nothing wrong deserved no prosecution.

Jacob scowls a bit at the way Marcus spoke, but he had a point, as did Phiorra. Jacob's face softens as he closes his eyes and thinks back to Ikana. He keeps a solid grip on Marcus, but loosens it a bit.

Back in Ikana Marcus had been a great help and had even saved Eysseth's life. That certainly didn't strike Jacob as evil. Jacob didn't have any proof that Marcus had in fact joined the Ganon worshipers, so that charge was gone. Marcus did seem to be there to help with the resurrection, but Jacob didn't have any proof of that either. Another charge gone. Without the other two the last charge wouldn't go through. All the charges were null. Upon Phiorra mentioning that Marcus had no control over it Jacob's mind returned to Summer's adopted son Relerin. Relerin was a good kid, but was cursed with a demon. It wasn't his fault and Jacob would not blame him for it, so why blame Marcus for something that was out of his control.

Jacob opens his eyes. "Marcus...I don't like tha tone...but ya got a point." Jacob lets go of Marcus and steps back a bit. "Sorry 'bout that. Yer right. I ain't got any proof an' yer a good kid. This whole situation reminds me o' a friend's son. Anyways. Sorry again. Ya ain't under arrest. I will however have ta explain this ta the Guards though. I'd like ya ta come wit me alright?" Jacob picks up his sword and shield, sheaths his sword, and hooks his shield on his armor. Jacob then feels where the pentagram used to me and sighs a bit.

Marcus stepped away from Jacob, wincing and rubbing his arms. He rolled his shoulder back, grimacing at their stiffness. He very much wanted to snort at Jacob's first words. He didn't like his tone? Well, Marcus didn't like having his arms twisted and being threatened with an arrest. Marcus resisted the temptation, though. He knew he Jacob could still arrest him for his unintentional involvement in the resurrection. There may not have been a case, but that may not protect him from being locked up until trial. Marcus had absolutely no desire to go to prison, so he kept his mouth shut.

Despite his desire to keep Jacob happy, however, he could not agree. "That's alright," he said, accepting his apology. "I'd rather not go with you to the Guards, all the same. They would ask me for my side of the story, and I would be forced to either tell them the truth or lie outright. I'd rather not do that, and somehow I doubt that they would be as understanding as you are. No, you can handle the Guards. I'm sure that you'll think of some way to keep me from being public enemy number one. All the same, though, I think it's time I moved on from Impa."

Now that he thought about it, there was something he had wanted to do since he had arrived in Northern Hyrule. Hyrule Castle Town had libraries that held vast stores of centuries' worth of knowledge. Southern Hyrule didn't have anything like that. Marcus had had a brief chance to go into one of the libraries during the Great Freeze, but he couldn't call that a real trip. It had been freezing cold, and he had only been there long enough to research the Wizzrobe causing the Great Freeze. Yes, he decided, he would visit there. But first...

He walked away from the group, heading over to the large platform in the center of the cave. One of the mages, the old man, had tried to attack him with a magical rod. Marcus had reflected the attack back at him, and it had sent him flying back. The old man had slammed his head into a stalagmite with an audible crack!, and Marcus was heading over to check on his status. If he was still alive, and they left him here, he would either die or resurrect another demon. Marcus stepped past the bleeding body of their young guide and crouched down to the old man. The young mage was dead; no one could survive such massive blood loss. But the old man... he pushed his fingers gently against the carotid artery. He placed his other fingers in front of the man's mouth. After twenty seconds, he sat back on his haunches. No breathing and no pulse for twenty seconds. Definite major head injury. The man was dead.

Marcus breathed in deeply. The man was dead. He himself had reflected the spell that had ended his life. Did that make him a killer? Marcus bit his lip, staring at the man's empty eyes. He supposed that in the technical sense of the word he was. He had had a direct involvement in the death of another, and that technically made him a kill-er. However, he thought, frowning, did this make him a murderer, or indeed guilty of any sort of crime? He pondered this, then shook his head. No. No, it was illogical to hold himself at fault for this man's death. The old man had proved himself capable of mass-murder. Moreover, he had been threatening Marcus' life. The watery grenade he had lobbed would have doubtless been deadly if Marcus had not dodged. Not only was it his life that the man had been threatening, he realized, but also Feeoreuh's. No, he decided, he had not done anything wrong. Reflecting the spell had been an act of self-defence. He was not to blame. He was not at fault. He couldn't be. But if he wasn't, why did his heart feel so heavy? Why did the man's empty eyes stare into his own with blame and regret? Marcus sighed and closed the old mage's eyes. Logic could not help him with guilt.

Something glimmered to his left. Marcus looked over and saw the rod the man had used to attack him. The rod that had taken his life. He stood and walked over, his legs feeling heavy, and picked it up. What exactly was this? It was approximately a foot long, and a sparkling jewel was attached to its tip. Marcus reached down and picked it up, tapping it gently with a fingernail. It was some kind of incredibly solid crystal. Completely transparent, and probably very nearly indestructible, given that it had probably smashed against the stalagmite with the mage. He remembered that the mage had swung it, causing a ripple to fly towards him. When Marcus had deflected it, it had sent the mage flying back. Some kind of blunt-trauma? He walked back to inspect the mage. He parted the robes and lifted the tunic to examine his chest, where the deflected spell had impacted. A large and ugly bruise was spread across the skin, and Marcus nodded. Definitely blunt trauma. A simple, but strong, spell.

Marcus pointed it at the cavern wall. He channelled his magic into the crystal and thrust. The jewel concentrated the magic, shaped it into a particular spell, and sent it rippling through the air. The spell distorted the air around it as it flew and slammed into the cavern wall. The wall shook noticeably, and a rather large crater was left in the rock. Marcus nodded, and swung it again at the platform. The same distortion ripped through the air and slammed into its edge, and parts of the rock were blown off. Marcus' vision swam, and he staggered back. Once the dizzying heat spots had faded, he looked down warily at the rod. The crystal needed more energy to work the spell than he had anticipated. This was not an item that could be used repeatedly. Marcus guessed that if he tried to use it again he ran the risk of fainting.

He was about to stow the item in his backpack when he paused. Did he really want this? It was, after all, a weapon. Marcus was a Healer, committed to peace and the health of others. Taking this would mean accepting a role in combat. Marcus wasn't sure if he wanted that. Then again... he thought back to the battle. He had rushed towards the Light Priestess because she was wounded. He had used his magic to protect himself and her, deflecting this rod's magic back at the caster. He had participated in battle, but he had unarguably done the right thing. How would this be any different? He considered the weapon's effect. In and of itself, it was not generally a dangerous weapon. True, if it hit the wrong part of the body (say, the underside of a person's head), it could kill them. Those spots were rare; there were more areas that would suffer internal damage. Marcus grimaced. That wasn't good.

His mind flashed back to the Vire. That had not been a Hylian. That had been a monster much, much stronger than any Hylian. Well, any Hylian but Jacob. It was not alone, either. Marcus had faced Skultulas, Poes, Stalfos, Re-deads, Gibdos, Wizzrobes, Moblins, and other assorted monsters that would just as soon rip his guts out as look at him. He remembered back to his venture in Ikana, where he, Jacob, and Loft had faced down armies of the undead. Something like this would have definitely helped then. This rod was potentially fatal to Hylians, but Marcus hardly ever faced Hylians. He thought about the mandatory dagger strapped to his side, and wondered how this was any different. It would definitely do a better job of protecting him and the people under his care than the dagger would, and Marcus held an irrational hatred of steel.

Marcus slipped the magic rod into his pack. Yes, he would keep this. Nayru's Affection was a spell meant to protect him and his companions in combat. His arsenal of protective magics had a new addition. He wasn't like Loft. He didn't talk to his items. Yet, as he shouldered his pack (now slightly heavier), he couldn't help but say quietly, "welcome to the team."

Sayomi took a combat stance as sunlight engulfed the room in a luminous embrace. That couldn’t be part of the ritual, that could only mean… THE CEILING WAS CAVING IN! They had to get out NOW! Well, that was until she heard several voices talking about it around the corner.

‘Oh, just intruders. Well that explains the lack of falling rocks, crashing sounds and dead people.’ She thought (As much as one can call what goes on in her head “thinking”) ‘But what if they’re being so obvious because they don’t need surprise? What if there’s half a legion pouring into the cave ready to slaughter any within? What if it’s some of Hyrule’s greatest soldiers getting prepared to kill a demon!? Oh wait, that’s me. Still, it was pretty stupid of them to make so much noise.’ She chuckled to herself.

Suddenly she realized the sunlight was a deep red, the intruders were in the room and some kind of creature was climbing up the circle on the ground, one she didn’t recognize. Red, crawling out of a circle in the ground, unrecognized and barely matching any description of what she’d heard about. It then occurred to her exactly what that thing was.

Slowly she approached the being’s invisible cage cautiously, not wanting to anger it and release the great power it held. “I, uh, had a question for you mister…person…su…bei…thingy Subrosian. I’m looking for a demon that I need to destroy and you two seem to come from the ground, so, uh… do you know about demons that are coming up soon?” The girl stuttered, unsure how to address the being from the depths. In turn Vire merely stared at the knight blankly trying to figure out if this obvious falsehood was serious or a tactic. Similarly Sayomi turned her head slightly to the side, trying to find out if the Subrosian was communicating or just staring back. “You look different than I thought: you’re pretty tall, have a horn on your tail and aren’t so… Lava-y. Wait a minute…”

In another (actually correct) revelation, Sayomi realized what actually stood before her… Ya, there’s no suspense here, everyone knows what it is and if you don’t, how can you read this?

Suddenly, the thing lunged out of the glass cell and onto the leader of this nefarious scheme, hissing threats and promises in the same breath. Before she could realize what was happening the cavern was illuminated in a fiery maelstrom of magic and mettle. For once, the knight knew which side she was on and charged the demon as it fired bolts of foul magics at her once-enemies. Unfortunately for Say, one from the cult’s leader struck her in the shoulder, burning skin and sending her into a crevasse as her head spun, dazing the girl. She had no idea how long she laying there, trying to get up; yet the sand refused to hold her.

As she crawled up the wall to her feet the battle still rang out within the cavern, which seemed to howl the previous moments of the fight. Stumbling forward, only the vigour of battle and promise of escape kept her on her feet. The beast had Jacob’s neck in a stony grip, slamming his head repeatedly into the wall. Sayomi couldn’t even get close to the being, its horned tail alone proving to be a match to the injured knight. Even as her comrade’s skull became more and more one with the wall, it’s tail acted as the though it were the finest foil, parrying and countering, not letting the knight even land a single mark.

As the demon released its grip on Jacob, the tail made yet another swing toward her. Sayomi placed her sword to parry and prepared to counter; but the hit never came. Instead, its tail passed through the sword as though it weren’t even there, somehow even leaving the sword intact. With no warning, no brace, the hit stuck the girl up the chin, flinging her against the opposite rock wall.

Once again her vision swam, as if the world’s idea of itself became undone. But to one, it did. This time Say didn’t see a cave, nor a demon, she saw an old street. On it lay single broken sword, her sword, slowly being enveloped by a red tide. No matter how far she reached, it was still too far, no matter how much blood poured around it, it still drowned ever quicker. Even as blood seeped from the dead Goron child, body littered with stabs, the flow never slowed, only pulsed as if moved by the pale corpse’s heart. She cried her greatest tears, she had failed again, failed to save an innocent boy, failed her dream, failed to kill the demon. Simply failed.

She was broken, only hate remained now, a rage matched in intensity only by the fires that birthed such a monster. She had only one goal now, to be accomplished regardless of the risk, regardless of the cost, regardless of the pain it might bring. The darkness that swirled around her or within her, she couldn’t tell which was real, whether she was looking within or without, though she knew which the more bitter.

She couldn’t hear anything but the screams in her head and the cries on her lips, couldn’t see but that which only made her more blind, couldn’t feel but the pained pulsing of a dying heart. But she knew where it was, she could sense it; somehow. Fuelled more by what was lost than by what she still had, Sayomi launched her sword through the air, impaling the darkness through a pseudo-heart and leaving its physical form vulnerable.

Soon, the battle was won. For once she accomplished her mission, alone, without another HAREON member at her side against a being that few could stand against, much less overcome. The world around her seemed again filled with light, as she released her breath; it felt as though the darkness within flowed out as well.

At last the knight returned to her feet and followed her adversary-turned-allies outside, pleased to see a crimson sunset that stole the intensity of the previous battle. But not all was well, something seemed to grow inside, slowly forcing its way out. Leaning forward, the knight drew in a deep breath loosed it all in a single belch, flames red as the demon’s circle exploded forth from her mouth. “Sorry, must’ve been something I ate.”