"Fragments - The Broken Bonds" - Chapter 10 - Spilled Blood

The reputation of the Forest of Mists is well known, often used by elders to scare unruly children to obedience. That night, the fog was unusually thick, and one might conclude the intervention of spells to conceal the cloaked figures gathering about in a small circle within the heart of the said woods.

"Where is Nathaniel? Giorno asked Sera, standing amidst the gathering. "He is unusually late. Will we have to start without him?

"Nathan won't be joining uss. The old hag replied in her usual hiss. "I sent him on a quest of power¦a quest that will be the envy of every mage of the Carithe'.

"Truly? That is very good. Giorno smiled, glad that they were getting along well after these past few weeks of having nothing but bad words to say about each other. "So, where did you send your foster son?

Sera's brows narrowed. Foster son he is to her, since she took it upon herself to raise the infant after mercilessly killing his parents when she razed an entire village to test a witch fire. Yet he had plans for Nathaniel, grand plans which would benefit her quest for power. Love? There was no space for foolish things in the old hag's heart. "The Lake of Souls. After the Skull Orb of Kimohr the Chosen. She answered warily.

"The Lake of Souls? A dark elf exclaimed from behind. "What kind of a fool are you, Sera? No magic works within the influence of Kimohr! You have sent Nathaniel to his doom!

"What do you know about it? Sera's voice was almost a hoarse growl, pointing a crooked finger at the dark elf. It was no spell but her attention already held a power in itself, putting the former into silence. "I sent Nathaniel to gauge the enemy. After we have ascertained the true expanse of Kimohr's power, we shall gain the coveted Skull Orb from his grasp! We will have dominion over spirits as the Elemental Eye in my possession grants me dominion over elements!

"And in so thinking, you have sent one among us as a sacrificial lamb? Giorno asked, almost in a rage. "We are a brotherhood, Sera! If we cannot trust each other we would all sooner die stabbing each other's backs!

"I am only being loyal to the Carithe' cause, master Giorno. Sera replied in a lower tone. "¦the acquisition of power until we become strong enough to be the catalysts of change in all Asperah.

"I shall go and fetch him. Giorno said, storming out in a billow of smoke and fire. "I shall deal with you anon, Sera¦until then, pray nothing has happened to the boy.
"There goes the party¦ Paris' voice whispered from behind the bushes. Galen was on her stomach, frantically motioning to keep Paris silent. Apparently, he did not know the gravity of their situation. Already she had felt the aura of the eye within the gathering.

The knight crept in slowly. It had been a long trek from Jurom to the forest, not to mention having to avoid the gate guards, but Galen made it quite easy with a few confusion spells. He was definitely not in the mood to sit around and wait. Clutching the Xeno blade, he invoked its power, making himself faster, stronger, but less and less lucid.

"Paris!...Stay back! Galen called out in a loud whisper. "Oh damnit! She cursed as the soldier paid her no heed. The elf sighed. At least he was not getting scared. "It's the witch-woman. She pointed Sera out.

The arguments were still at height among the mages. Sera was definitely enraged at the clan's reaction and was busy exchanging shouts with the dark elf and another druid in gray when Paris came within range.

There was a stifled scream then the sound of a body fall lifeless to the ground. The mages scattered in surprise and frantically fumbled about their minds for appropriate spells. Before the first incantation could be uttered, another was skewered to a tree, causing more confusion among the group. "This is entirely your fault, Sera! A druid cursed, illuminating the area. Sera's immediately invoked the Elemental Eye to wash away the fog, revealing Paris on his third kill. The rest of the mages were running off in all directions and others have spirited themselves away. Only three remained.
The dark elf had his arms raised, calling up a tanglevine on Paris' feet, pinning him to the ground. Galen was quick to make a counterspell, drawing the earth upon itself, swallowing the threatening plant before it could attack anyone. With all the spells flying around, she had hoped not to get noticed.

The druid, however was on his second spell, summoning a mimic from the woods and setting it upon Paris. The knight lunged, rolled on the ground and struck, stabbing right through the dark elf's midsection. "Sera!- It called out for help, wallowing in its own blood while Paris faced the shape-shifting mimic.

Seeing an opportunity, Sera stopped her incantations, letting the druid take care of Paris. "Well, well, well, night elf. Sera snickered. "In need of my attention?

"Help me¦ The dark elf groaned, struggling to stay conscious. "I'm losing blood.

"I would¦and I will accept the scrolls and items of power you have gathered as a fee for my services. The witch replied, kneeling over the wounded mage.

"Curse you old hag¦ The dark elf whimpered, yet knew he had no choice. Power can be gathered again, but life is only lived once. An elf's life too, is doubly precious. "Take it. Get me out of here¦

"Well decided. Sera said in victory, casting a transport spell that would spirit them away.

"NO! Galen bolted from her hiding place, mouthing a displacement spell upon Sera, hoping that in mid-spell, she would not notice, or have enough time to counter her pilfering.

The druid turned, noting Galen's presence. "An elf of Iluin! He pointed, noticing only now that Sera and the dark elf were already shimmering from sight. He turned to face her alone, confident that the shapeshifter would be sufficient to kill the soldier.
The mimic was a formidable enemy for anyone indeed. Already it had studied Paris' moves, and was taking his form by stages. Soon enough, they were exact duplicates, in appearance and skill. Paris attacked and plunged with his sword to no avail. It was like attacking himself, and the mimic knew the move before it could be executed, easily avoiding his blows.

A sharp elbow to the chest sent Paris backwards a few feet, losing the elven blade. His sanity snapped back in place, and now, he felt fear as the mimic drew closer. His mind now groped for possible ways to escape, but there was none. It was as fast as he is, with more endurance. He will have to settle it there.

The mimic lunged forward, putting them both in a tangle of limbs. Paris kicked himself free, but not without a parting blow which almost broke his jaw. He spit blood. It was not good. He was down and the mimic was already marching towards him for another round. "Damn you Galen¦where are you? He grumbled, hoping that the elf could be of assistance.

There was the whistle of an arrow being fired. It made its way to the looming figure in front of Paris and he watched the mimic fall. Its neck was punctured through from one side to the other.

"I got him! There was the shout from somewhere in the woods. "Ironheart is dead!
Paris rolled away quickly. Assassins. Definitely someone had him followed all the way here. Highlord Troy was definitely a man of vast resources. He probably even consulted Gaul as to his whereabouts using the Black Sword.

"Secure the body! Another voice called out. "Make sure he's dead.

"Not with a couple of mages shooting spells. Wait until later. I'm not tangling with magic types. Came the reply. Paris breathed relief. It was easy to see that the disfigured shape on the ground was no longer looking like him.

The druid's spell fired off, and a deadwood behind Galen animated, locking her with its branches as Sera and the Dark elf vanished from view.

"A pretty little elf. The druid snickered. "This is such a pleasant surprise¦I did not have any dinner before I came here¦you would serve well to sate my hunger¦.
Galen tried to utter another spell, yet the druid was faster. Immediately, the deadwood sealed her lips with another crooked branch. She looked at the mage with fear, knowing there was nothing more she could do, physical, or magical.

"The fighter is dead. The voice said from behind, making the druid turn.

"Ah you have done well, mimic. The mage replied, making a gesture. "I shall handle the elf woman from here. You are dismissed.

"And so are you. Paris said with a sly grin, running the Xeno blade effortlessly through the druid, letting him struggle a bit before falling to the earth. He smiled, enjoying the surprised look upon the mage's face upon realizing he was not the mimic the former summoned.

"So the witch-woman got away. Paris said, hacking off the branches which bound Galen. "I guess we will have to track her down some other time?

"Not necessarily. Galen smiled upon getting loose, holding a crystal in her hand. "I managed to displace the Elemental Eye from her hand to mine while she was in the process of casting a transport spell.

"Is that it? Paris looked at the gem with awe. It was truly magnificent, radiating power from within, life, force, and all which is the power of the land of Asperah. "Then I get to keep the sword? He asked.

"Well done, my fair knight. She said in a mock salute. "True to our agreement, but let me give you an escort back to Jurom¦something about a dungeon?

Paris shook his head and made a face. One trouble after another was certainly his life. "We had better hurry. I do not wish to be late. He said jokingly. A bargain was a bargain. It was the same thing with the thieves' guild he concluded, and he intended to keep his part. "Besides¦I have just been killed, and I would prefer to keep the news of my death as it is.

"Excuse me? Galen asked, confused again.

"Never you mind. Paris replied, motioning for her to keep silent. "Just cloak us with a spell. There are assassins about and I believe they will be circling around anytime now.