"To tell a pawn that he is a king, and allowing him to go on believing this, is cruelty of its worst form."
-Baccus
VIII. Foreigner
Surrounded by trees and very far from the other two, Gaijin felt a faint nervousness coursing throughout his body. While giving pursuit, he stopped as the man began turning around and laughing suddenly. Veins bulged from his forehead. With his arms now raised into the air, he yelled, "Yes! Keep fighting! I've been bored a very long time now."
Listening, Gaijin thought about what should be done next. Just before deciding to move, Prometheus returned to his mind. His voice was stressed and rough.
Gaijin! What is happening here?
Gaijin responded to Prometheus in his mind, Shit, you're finally back. That's good, I need you. I don't know who the hell this bastard is, but he is dangerous! Gaijin spoke with anger infused with angst.
What do you know about him so far?
He claps and a bow appears in his hands. He does not use quivers or bows. They shoot right out of the bow...I think his power comes from mien but I am not certain. He's big and slow so I've been using that against him.
Sweat oozed down Gaijin's forehead.
Suddenly, he heard a loud clap. Gaijin instinctively gave the man all of his attention again.
"Damn," Gaijin muttered bitterly.
Do you see? Gaijin thought irritatedly. Look at his hands. He's holding a bow that was not there a second ago!"
Gaijin grew nervous because of the way Prometheus voice cracked in fear and distress. Gaijin knew this man was dangerous but he was not aware of the several layers of madness and strangeness that dwelled deep within.
"He's already killed me twice," Gaijin murmured.
"Gaijin, you have the power of the Gods flowing through you," Prometheus dictated, "we must use this to defeat him."
Gaijin gritted his teeth and scoffed. He took heavy breaths. He began to perceive his surroundings much more clearly now. As soon as the man raised his bow to fire another set of arrows, Gaijin's legs broke into a crazed sprint.
He was taken aback by Gaijin's unnatural speed and quickly ceased his attacks in favor of a more defensive stance. Gaijin, with a little jump, struck the man in the thigh with his leg which caused the man to drop his bow and disintegrate into ash that rose and faded into the air. The man growled like some malign beast.
Outstanding! Prometheus encouraged Gaijin. And I understand why you think his power comes from mien. The ashes...they look eerily familiar. But stay focused. I will help in any way that I can!
It was an overwhelming feeling for Gaijin battling a man who bolstered such an intimidating bulk.
He was believing he could win with every hit he landed on the man. Suddenly the two broke out into a fierce and close flurry of exchanging fists. They punched each other with everything they had. However, the man suddenly broke out into those unnaturally fast movements and quickly overwhelmed Gaijin, breaking his knuckles and nose.
Gaijin distanced himself when he heard the man break out in a maniacal laugh. A vicious gleam radiated past those two malignant eyes. The man became still and confined himself to quietude. He smiled as he glared upon Gaijin who was wheezing heavily. The smile suddenly disappeared and was replaced with a mean scowl.
"I'm going to show you something beautiful," he remarked with a fearsome expression.
He clapped and sparked his bow back into existence, a shroud of dark ashes rising around him menacingly, highlighting his frightful features. Gaijin and Prometheus knew there was nothing good to come from this. Too far to stop him, they prepared for the worst.
Gaijin watched the man with two discerning eyes. Unaware of what he planned to do, he shook internally.
The man held the bow with his left hand and slipped the digits of his right hand along the bowstring and tugged it back. He suddenly pointed the bow at Gaijin who quickly lept out of the way into a hump of snow. He abruptly lifted the bow and pointed it towards the sky. Confused, Gaijin grew increasingly nervous. His nerves intensified and his injured throat swelled with saliva which he forced down.
The man smiled as a small ray of light exuded from the tip of the arrow. The light was lustrous and white with a faint pink glimmer. He shot the arrow high into the sky and a gust of wind scattered and propelled upward. Gaijin's long hair rose with the wind, as did his own. The branches of the trees in the region swayed and rustled against the sudden burst of rising wind that whirled like a small hurricane. The look of the man's face was like a horrid painting comprised by the darkest and most ominous of hues.
An overbearing smile was bound to his face, foul and cavernous wrinkles contorted his face into a look of happiness so horrendous. He lowered his head and exchanged intense stares with Gaijin, not uttering a word.
Gaijin, still cautious of the man, lifted his head up to the sky. He scarcely made out anything besides the slowly descending snowflakes. He tilted his head back down, confused.
"What in hades..." Gaijin said with a pounding heart. He glared back at the man whose face was riddled by that permanent smirk.
Noticing a small tinge of pink up above, Gaijin's head snapped back up quickly. The tinge was in the shape of a halo that expanded infinitely overhead across the horizon. He also noticed the man was not moving nor willing to take action, only standing there with an ominous gloom augmented by the stretch of his grin. Gaijin began to rush for him. The foe did not bother to combat him. He merely dodged and countered whenever he felt like doing so. He was quicker too.
He rammed his head into Gaijin's after catching his fist and quickly struck him to the ground. He again distanced himself. He looked up at the sky with a smile. Curious, Gaijin joined with the man's gaze towards the sky. Suddenly, he noticed that pink tinge in the sky was no longer visible.
Then suddenly he noticed that it had grown darker. The sky was blackened by what felt like millions of little, thin objects falling like raindrops. Gaijin watched helplessly with and was at a loss for words.
The man kept smiling, yet, a look a sadness still ran deep.
Staring at the darkened sky, he felt a shrill trickling down to his feet.
Gaijin! You need to find somewhere to hide now! Those are arrows! Prometheus warned emphatically, his voice thundered across Gaijin's mind.
IX. Poet
The soldier awoke to little insects crawling on his hands. Annoyed, he shook them off. He felt his swords in his hands, he had never let go. Now awake and healed, he lugged his body which felt like chilled blocks of ice from off of the snow. All was silent around him. He had slipped into unconsciousness without even knowing it. He was upset with himself for that.
He pressed his hand against his mask. It began to harden and detach itself from his face. He took it off, for it was getting too hot and stuffy underneath. He went to tie it back onto his string necklace but it was torn and worn out. So he reached down to fasten it on the special belt on his waist.
"Damn," he muttered glumly to himself. "Where did they go?"
He walked around for some seconds. He scanned the snowy ground for foot impressions and other marks. He saw a few. He noticed a pair of footprints were incredibly impressed into the snow. And he saw two different sets of ruffled footprints leading down the western direction. He still felt lethargic and light headed so he ambulated slowly and calmly while following the impressions in the snow.
He trudged against the increasing drafts and mounds of snow. His face and body were covered with dry blood and so were his torn clothes.
Even with his sight blurred and currently adjusting, he could still perceive his environment well enough to notice a sly darkening of the sun's light. Then a sudden thought dawned on him. It was much darker than previously, he thought. He believed himself to be ideating this sudden decrease of sunlight. It bothered him. So he finally decided to look up in the direction of the sky, slowly rearing his neck up to the ominous ether. He wished he had not.
He could not understand what he was envisioning. In the vast beyond was something he had never before witnessed. The sun was blot out by these tiny thin figures that seemed to impersonate raindrops at the distance, descending piercingly. They were endless, filling every inch of visible sky with darkness. He knew whatever they were that they could be of nothing good. He shivered and busted out running. He sought for some form of shelter but could find any he deemed appropriate.
He shrieked with anger and frustration. His face became redder the closer he perceived they were. There were so many. It was then that he noticed they resembled arrows. His heart shattered like ice.
IX. Foreigner
Taken to his heels, he called out for Maddard.
Damn it, Gaijin. Forget the man. Turn back and—
I can't do that. We need him. He panicked.
He yelled out for Maddard. Just then, he spotted him coming out from a snowy bush. He grabbed Maddard and dropped him to the floor, acting as a shield over him.
"What the hell?" Maddard asked Gaijin angrily. He followed up, "What the hell is happening?"
Gaijin shushed Maddard. "Look up...I don't know how but arrows are falling from the sky."
Shocked and afraid, Maddard did not respond. He maneuvered his head upward. It was dark like the sun had disappeared from the sky.
"Curl up underneath me, now!" Gaijin commanded with authority.
He felt uncomfortable with the winged stranger on top of him again but seeing the falling plague of arrows, he did not put up a struggle. Panicking, he watched as Maddard curled his body sideways underneath him. Fearing what little time they had, he stared down at Maddard whose fears were blatantly expressed through his watery eyes.
"Close your eyes," Gaijin tried to persuade Maddard to the best of his power. Each staring helplessly at the other.
X. Poet
Fearing he would not find shelter in time, he set his full attention to the sky. He could almost smell them and feel their sharp tips ready to pierce his soft flesh. The feeling of helplessness tore him the worst. He was fuming on the inside. Trudging through the forest, he feared for the others. He did not know if they were still alive so he raced down the labyrinth of trees, a mouse in a maze.
The mere sight of these objects was blood-curdling. He needed to find shelter of some kind quickly but he was only met with disappointment in the form of chilly shrubs and mounds of snow. His body bubbled with goosebumps. He thought about the cave, but he knew it was much too far. Sighing and swaying in every direction, he pressed on; as tired as he was he ran and ran some more to find a way to elude the hail of arrows.
He thought about Mad Dog and was enraged more. He knew this had to be of his doing. He sucked his teeth.
"Oh, my fucking..." He panicked while frantically gorging the immediate forest for a sufficient spot to take refuge all while swearing uncontrollably. Now, the arrows were at a point low enough in the air to make him abandon all hopes of finding safety in time.
He watched those arrows as they rushed down upon him together in one fearsome union. He sighed, almost weeping. He removed the mask from his waist, for he knew he would be needing it now more than before. He tried to calm the shakiness of his arms as pressed the mask on his face. His chilly breaths flew from his cold mouth, his lips chapped and stained with dried blood as they mingled with the rushing wind.
He whispered something under his breath and collapsed to his knees beside a large coniferous tree. He hoped that the tree's large branches and pines would at least lessen some of the impending collisions. A look of sadness conquered his already beaten countenance. The mask finally adhered to his face and took on its fleshy form. His eyes, through the sockets of his mask, were determined and stoic in appearance. While still on his knees, he dropped his arms to the ground, caressing the mushy snow. He inclined his back and curled into a ball, forcing his head underneath his torso as much as he could manage it. He placed his swords on his back and balanced them there, both swords now covered most of his spine
He held back the incoming inundation of tears and muttered something under his cold breath. His lips were trembling and so were the rest of his jittering body. He had to fix his swords back in place several times. They would not stay in place on his body which undulated and shook like rising tides in the ocean. He was powerless to stop the incessant shaking so he thought to place his swords on the sheaths on his back. The sheaths ran parallel, leaving a column of space open for his unprotected spine. Today, he had truly felt the cold touch of death and feared its ghastly presence. He was even powerless to suppress the oncoming rush of tears as they slipped past his eyelids which were shut so tight. He felt the weight of death suffocating and snapping his confidence like a twig. He had already begun to imagine what the pain would feel like, the rush of blood that would exit his body, the crackling of his bones, the pointed tips that would soon burrow inside of him. They collapsed against the tall trees, shattering and bending them underneath their unified weight.
Finally, they struck. Thousands of acute arrows bombarded the earth and all that stood upon it.
He crushed together his teeth as the first wave impaled through him. He screamed louder than he had ever done before. Lines of saliva spread long across the two rows of his teeth as gore gushed from his throat and out of his mouth. Suddenly his whole body became relatively numb as dozens of arrows effortlessly dove into his body, some even tearing past his belly and poking his legs which were pressed tightly against his stomach. His cries went unnoticed under the mighty roar of raining arrows. Little cries of creatures also went unheard. Shaking, his body went into complete shock. His bones crumbled and his skin tore off like leaves from their trees in the autumn seasons.
His blood splattered in every direction: on the side of the tree, the snow. He continued to scream until he lost the energy to continue, falling into shock. They fell for what felt like a lifetime. But as quickly as it began was as quickly as it ended. He had not even noticed that they have stopped descending. Dozens of arrows had dove into his body and thousands more were impressed into the earth all around him. His mask pumped and pumped outrageously, trying to recover whatever remained of him. He did not move.