masterofgunfu: (A-I will kill you)
[personal profile] masterofgunfu
The gray, false light of predawn found us standing and staring at the gray bubble of the druidic ward. It filled the valley, or Gap as the locals called it, below the Honeycomb--a maze of a trailer park infused with magic--and was solid yet translucent. Cracks were beginning to form and we could see the faces of the monsters within; snouts, heavy lips, mandibles and more were squished against the bubble as the Fomorians stood shoulder to should, packed tight like mints in a tin.

We had ridden buses to the Honeycomb above and walked the trail down to the Gap where we spent the next few hours clearing the floor of the Gap of all the trash tossed down from the trailers above. Anything sharp or dangerous we pushed up against the bubble. Now we waited.

We stood in ranks, all hundred of us. Well, one hundred plus me, Kate and Curran. The plan was simple. We hold the line, keep the Fomorians from leaving the Gap while Bran, Kate's honey from the Mists, and a group of vampires snuck in a backdoor to swap the lid of the cauldron, turning it from a cauldron of rebirth to a cauldron of plenty. Unlimited food is great but not when you are fighting for your life.

As we stood, a group of women strode through, witches. Each was wearing leather and chain mail, carried bows and swords, and their faces were painted blue. With a grim determination, they pushed their way to Curran and spoke with him for a few minutes before climbing up the walls to take positions on the walls of the valley.

Witches, vampires and the shape shifters, all putting aside their differences to protect the city. This was where the Order belonged not out fighting some other battle, I found myself thinking before I shoved the thoughts aside. I had no idea what the Order was fighting and as long as I breathed, the Order was here.

Raphael stepped up beside me and offered a smile and a nod. I remembered the last few hours with him, laughing as we ate and sparred. There were worse ways to spend the hours before an apocalypse. I offered a slight smile in return.

A loud crack interrupted my reflections and my head whipped around to see a chunk of pale gray, like dirty ice, break from the top of the bubble. It plunged towards the ground with an eerie whistle, where it pierced a rusted garage. It hissed and fizzled, evaporating into tin air. Silence filled the valley and we trembled with anticipation.

"We have a job to do," Curran shouted, his voice clear in the pale light. "Today we avenge our own! They came here, onto our land. They tortured a child. They killed our Pack mates. Nobody hurts the Pack!"

"Nobody!" Screamed the shape shifters.

Curran pointed to the bubble. "They are not men. There is no human flesh on their bones."

My mouth gaped at what Curran was saying. Was he really going to go there?

"What happens here, stays here. Today there is no Code. Today you can let go."

Holy Shit. The Pack lived the Code. They followed it with fanatical discipline. Obey, perform, account for yourself. Ever diligent. Always in control. Never let go. But Curran wasn't done.

"Remember: it's not your job to die for your Pack! It's your job to make the other bastards die for theirs. Together we kill!"

"Kill!" breathed the field of shape shifters.



"Go home!"

"Kill! Win! Go Home!"

"KILL! WIN! GO HOME!" We chanted over and over, our voices merging into a unified avalanche of sound. Despite myself, I felt tears in my eyes and didn't bother to hide them. I wondered what it would have been like to grow up with the Pack before I realize it wouldn't have changed anything. I was still beastkin.

More of the bubble cracked and fell. The Pack stripped off their clothes and I followed suit. An ear-splitting shriek split the morning and the gray dome fell, revealing the sea of Fomorians. They shifted forward a few steps and stood silent, a chaotic mass dappled with green, turquoise, and orange. A Dali or Bosch painting come to life.

"TURN!" Curran roared and fur burst along our ranks as we let the monsters slip free of the shackles of humanity.

The Fomorian's bellowed and a hundred and one defiant voices answered back; wolves snarled and howled, jackals yipped, hyenas laughed, cats growled, rats screeched, all at once, and through it all, unstoppable and overwhelming, came Curran's lion roar.

The Fomorians hesitated, unsure but their commander screamed and thrust his battle axe into the air. The front ranks started forward, first slowly, trudging, then faster and faster.

"HOLD!" Curran bellowed as the witches started chanting. Vines sprung up from the ground and wrapped themselves around the demons legs. The sky came alive with glittering shapes. Stymphalean birds took to the air and plunged at the demonic horde. But the attack only slowed them down and any deaths were pointless as the dead would rise from the cauldron in a matter of minutes. We needed to maim, not kill.

Next Kate ran forward, away from the front line and towards the Fomorians. What the hell was she doing? She stopped and threw her head back as some sort of seizure took her for an instant before she dropped her head back down to scream at the Fomorians. I couldn't hear her but the wave of magic that hit was unlike anything I had ever felt. The ground shook as the front ranks of the Fomorian army fell to it's knees, crippled as bones snapped with the force.

"Bring your army, little god! My sword is hungry!" Kate called out as she took a fighting stance, both her swords raised.

The flood gates opened and the battle began.
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masterofgunfu: (Default)
Andrea Maria Nash

August 2014


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