Linus Toria

Chapter 4

Gaspard was hurting. Everywhere. Especially his head. It was almost as bad as the one time when he got buried under a skyscraper. Back then it took him weeks to get back on his feet. He had a hunch that this time it wouldn't be much different. And something was tirelessly vibrating in his pocket. Probably his magicometer warning him that something dangerous was near.

He debated opening his eyes but that would surely only increase his headache. What had happened? Where was he? Where was his team? Instead of surveying his surroundings he decided to take a trip down the memory lane.

There was sand. Lots of it. Right, he had persuaded his leader Mathieu to follow the woman who had saved him during his last mission in the Great War. He had never forgotten her grace back then and spotting her in Johannesburg only fueled his interest. Yet, at first he wasn't sure if she was the right person.

After all, everybody had told him that he had hallucinated due to blood loss. Even on the mission's video footage had been no trace of an other person but him. But he never truly believed the others. He knew what he saw that day.

And Gaspard was grateful. He had been supposed to die back then. That's why he was determined to follow that woman and return the favour. Then he considered himself to be a man of honour and had a debt to repay. Still, he was surprised that Mathieu went along with his wishes and didn't question him once.

At least not until they had set foot in this exhausting desert. To appease his worrywart of a leader he went scouting to prove him that the desert wasn't a huge setup of a trap. As if his saviour wouuld ever lead him into one.

But he had to admit that this desert was a little strange. He didn't encounter any animals, not even some traces. And the most unsettling was the complete lack of magic. He had never seen anything similar and the desert had started to creep him out. The bad feeling he had gotten kept on getting worse and worse.

When he had finally heard noises from a living creature he couldn't help rushing over. Stopping in short distance of the noises' origin the sight of a small, sobbing child took his breath away and his instincts went into overdrive.

Gaspard hated himself a little for being so heavily influenced by the way he was made and raised to be. The drive to protect any human from harm was deeply engraved in his mind. It couldn't even be diminished by his actual hate for the human race.

Seeing that the one in need was just a kid not causing any reaction from his magicometer at all, he decided to be generous for once. Although his experiences during the war should have taught him better, he let his guard down and approached the child with the words: „Hey brat, do you need help?"

But the child kept on bawling and wasn't reacting at all. Not until he was an arm's length away. It suddenly raised his head and said „Thank you" with a bright smile, tears still running down its cheeks. Before Gaspard could figure out what was going on, he was already falling. After that he rembered nothing. Where was this child now? It had obviously led him into a trap and he would make sure to get even.

Having wasted enough time, he pried one eye open. A warm, flickering light belonging to a bonfire greeted him. The cold seeping into his back made him believe that he was laying on the ground. He was right. And it was a pretty uncomfortable position.

His headache had yet to disappear and he wished to strangulate the chimera dancing around the fire. Its singing didn't help his head at all. It also appeared to be quite tone deaf. Trying to move his limbs he was met with a disturbing numbness. Had he been poisened?

Now he began to panick a little as no poison should be able to affect him in any way. His genetic modifications should have immunised him to anything exsisting. Was this a new poison? Or was this his body finally failing him?

Struggling hard he managed to untangle his limbs from each other and shift into a better position after turning off his magicometer that was starting to get on his nerves. Shortly happy with his situation he decided to give himself a short break and took another look at his environment.

He was in a square room with a too bright bonfire and a chimera which seemed to belong to the manticore type. He had only heard of those and never encountered one himself. Those manticores had made only two appearances during the war: The first sighting was on the same day as the start of the war.

No, that description wasn't accurate. It was safe to say that the first manticore ever seen was the cause of the war. Back then during an interracial congress a mysterious witch entered the scene together with her chimera, introduced herself and the beast as „Manti" and „Kor" and launched into the masses. Later chimeras with a similar appearance were therefore called manticores.

The worldwide community was outraged by the attack and blamed the humans for not keeping track of their witches. All covens claimed to have no affiliation whatsoever with Manti. Nobody believed them and before they could make amends the Great War had started. It was one of many incidents and while this one alone probably wouldn't have made much impact it came at a delicate time and the history books or whatever was left of them recorded that as the starting point.

The second sighting was near the end of the war where a different witch with a group of over 50 manticores under her command tried overrunning the city of Medina. The city under the possession of orcs managed to ward off the attackers but received heavy damage and a lot of casualties.

Long story short, nobody liked manticores. Nobody but Gaspard. Sure, they were ugly. He would admit that much. And their unsatiable desire for food and for sex didn't make them the most pleasant beings to wander the earth. Nevertheless, they reminded him of the arrangements he and his group of friends had grown up in. Like them the manticores were just puppets for their masters and had no say in their own fate. Created for the purpose of murder and destruction until a stronger being put them out of their misery.

Still, Gaspard wasn't foolish enough to believe that the manticore in front of him shared his pathetic sentimentalities. And when it came down to a fight where only one of them could survive he wouldn't hestitate to kill the being he just pitied. After all he was made to be that way.

Getting rid of the last of his depressing thoughts by a head shake, he noticed that his rifle was gone. At least his luggage was stored away safely inside the storage tattoo on his forearms. Furthermore, he was not alone. Somebody else was laying next to him, immersed in a deep slumber. Letting his eyes wander over the body he recognized his saviour!

How did this happen? Why was she here? Did she also get captured? Deciding that the why's and how's didn't matter for the moment, Gaspard was happy to finally be in talking distance. And to add a cherry to the top, this time he could save her. Even more so he could finally ask her the questions that have bothered him for the last 29 years.

Like, what's your name, why did you save me, who are you working for, how did you avoid the video footage, why did you let the glory of ending the war be accounted to me, what have you been doing all those years, would you like to travel together, and the list went on. He was already looking forward to the endless conversations they could have while travelling the world and searching for Ciel.

Okay, he should stop getting ahead of himself. They were after all still in a room with a manticore who considered them his lunch, he had yet to regain all feeling in his limbs and his saviour kept on sleeping. Time to formulate a plan to save both of their hides.