Holy crap on a stick Batman did this take a long time to get around to writing. damn you Minecraft, Damn you DC Universe Online, damn you soul crushing telemarketing job and damn wisdom teeth for causing so much stress.
Well now that I'm done bitching, on with the story!
Chapter 7
Anya could not believe what she was seeing, decades had come and gone since the last time she had seen a fellow Snowdrifter. She tried to remember him; his smile, his face, anything.
The Snowdrifter smiled warmly and marvelled at the long lost child. "How many years has it been Anya? Thirty? Maybe Forty years? You don't recognize me do you?" he asked, amused at Anya's puzzled expression.
"Not even a little... But I know I must have seen your face before. I was so little then. It feels like a lifetime ago." Anya smiled back, remembering distant memories of happiness and familiarity. Nearly every memory from before the attack on her family was filled with smiles and bright eyes. Something about this Snowdrifter nagged at her mind though.
"My name is Grigory, I was your father's brother, your uncle. He and your mother both loved you very much. I can still remember how proud of you they were when you told them you wanted to be a hunter just like your uncle Griggy." He laughed and walked closer to Anya, Slowly closing the gap between them.
"I don’t remember you too well though... How did you survive the wolfman attack?" Anya asked, her smile fading as she tried to dig deep into her memory to recall her uncle from so long ago.
"Well you probably don't remember me too well because your father and I had a falling out. You see Anya, the Snowdrifters sailed the stars a long time ago in search of a new home. Their old home had reached its end and once it proved unsuitable for us we moved on. Despite our great knowledge of technology, we fell from the stars to this world and became marooned. Your father and I argued over the fate of the snowdrifters who survived the crash. I advocated that we dismantle the ship and use its materials and technology to rebuild our heritage. He insisted that our ways were faulty and that we should learn to adapt and re-examine our knowledge so that we might avoid having to find a new home in the future." Grigory's smile faded into a frown.
Grigory's frown triggered Anya's memories. She could remember her father and Grigory shouting while the rest looked on, worried. They both held small white devices, pointing them at each other. Anya's father had told her that they were things called death talismans and that she should never touch them or she might hurt herself or others.
Grigory slid open a plate on his hip and pulled out the death talisman Anya had recalled him holding. He looked down at it, remembering the argument as well. "Your father's ideal was the popular one and he commanded me to leave the group as an exile. I left into the wilderness, alone and angry. After wandering for a time I became lost and lonely but it only served to make me hate your father even more. One night, in my dreams, a dark entity found me. It listened to my story and my misery until there was no more to tell. It told me that I could build the great civilization that I had wanted with it's help. It just wanted one favour in return." Grigory paused to put the talisman back in his armor.
Even though the answer was so obvious, Anya wished it was not true. Before her was the only blood related family member she still had. "It wanted you to prove fear was greater than pain by having you defeat Pain's champion." She stated, each word spoken grew harder to speak.
"Exactly Anya. I wonder how long ago you caught on to our situation." Grigory stated as he smiled again, the air around him seemed to thicken and grow darker as Anya started to have terrible suspicions. She started to back away from Grigory who was still slowly approaching her. Anya's fur began to stand on end as her mind raced through the years. "Now you’re starting to see Anya. This did not all start with the nightmare poison. I unleashed the wolfmen on your village.
"Y-you killed our family?" Anya stammered as she watched a black haze spread from behind Grigory.
"I told them to make sure that you lived; the rest, I told them, they could do whatever they wanted with." he replied, his smile growing more sinister. "After that, your master took care of the rest."
"I went through all that because of you?" Anya's body shook as the haze spread further, obscuring the army behind Grigory.
"Yes. I have been preparing all these years to kill you while all you have done is fought against your own nature. And now I'll show you the true power of fear and how useless your master’s gifts were." The blackness spread faster, blotting out the world around Anya. To the students looking over the two leaders, Anya appeared to stand still. Anya however stood alone, weapon-less and without armor, surrounded by the vast northern army. Anya looked around herself but found no favourable directions to escape through.
"You are known far and wide as a warrior without peer. "Boomed Grigory's voice from the now black sky. Despite the lack of a sun, the world around her was still visible. Anya had little time to ponder the strange dream-like world she was in however as the army began to close in on her slowly, spears and swords all pointing in her direction. "But even so, can you really never fall? Are you really such a master of battle?"
The soldiers closed in, closer and closer until their weapons came within Anya's reach. With great speed and skill Anya charged into battle with the nearest soldier. Striking swiftly and pulling his weapon from him. Anya cut through her enemies with ease but for each soldier she struck down with her mighty blows, another always stepped in to take his place.
For hours Anya fought but the ranks of soldiers never grew thinner or less eager to throw themselves at her. Each body would dissolve into the ground shortly after falling and there seemed to be no end to the sea of opponents before her. Shouting with rage and battle fury Anya tore her opponents apart as quickly as they could come at her.
Time waned on as she fought. Hours passed by without any reprieve or pause. Anya found herself growing slower time dragged on. Eventually she began to slip up and the soldiers managed to spill her blood more and more. Though she could easily close her wounds with her flesh weaving gift, she found herself needing to do it more often as time went by.
“How many hours had she been fighting?” Anya wondered as she felt her limbs grow heavy with exhaustion. Her vision blurred as her eyelids fought for rest. Suddenly she felt a blade pierce her through from behind. As she twisted around to kill the lucky soldier, she felt a spear pass through her arm. Even though no wound could make her feel pain, she quickly became bogged down by her wounds. Her flesh weaving could not keep up anymore; she could not remove the weapons from her body fast enough. Gasping desperately for breath Anya struggled to stay conscious as her blood drenched the ground beneath her. The soldiers forced her to the ground as they continued to pierce and slice her body to ribbons.
As her vision faded slowly, Anya weakly pleaded for her body to keep fighting. For the first time she could not find the strength to rise back up and keep fighting.
"Where is the unending endurance of the southern Battle Master? Your enemies were simple, mortal, men yet now you lay beneath them defeated. You are no Master of Battle!" Grigory's voice echoed throughout Anya's mind as her vision faded to black.
Slowly Anya felt the world coming back to her. Her vision returned sluggishly as she tried to focus on what was going on around her. She was kneeling in a windswept grass field amidst a black fog. She watched as Grigory casually picked up her adamantium mace as he continued to walk closer to her. She tried to stand or even focus her eyes to see further through the black haze around her but every effort felt muted.
"Your struggles only show me how scared you are right now. What use is your immunity to pain when you’re too afraid to move? How pitiful you are..." Grigory stated with a smile as the black fog thickened rapidly blotting out Anya's sight once again. “You are known wide and far as a great thinker. But are your plans really so fault-less?” he continued.
When at last Anya could see again she found herself leaving Grigory's tent. Looking around she found herself standing in the middle of the great army's campsite. "But this hasn’t happened... This is my imagination." she thought to herself. She was jolted out of her thoughts as she felt a warm gust of wind from behind. As if it were real she remembered ordering for the woods to be torched. Turning to look behind her, she knew that not far off a wave of fire was spreading along the trees.
Anya started running towards her students at the front of the massive force, determined to escape the fire. As she sprinted towards the frontlines Anya thought it odd that she was reliving this memory. Her enemy was trapped and facing annihilation and all she had to do was get to the front and join her students with the forces of Greatwall.
Passing the old and gnarled trees of the forest as well as resting soldiers with great speed, Anya started to hear shouts and rushed commands. Moments later she saw the light. Soldiers were starting to run past her, either heading to command to report or just to get to safety. Behind them, fire was spreading along the trees.
Anya paused for a moment longer as she looked around. Had she gotten turned around as she headed to the front? She turned and began to run again making sure to keep her heading.
Minutes later as she passed Grigory's tent again. Without pausing she continued on, the light of the fire steadily following her. Tense seconds passed as Anya outpaced the fire. Just ahead she thought she could see the distant lights of Greatwall but to her dismay they grew brighter and began to illuminate the forest ahead.
Had Greatwall really tossed aside her plan and set fire to the forest from the other side? It had appeared so. With time burning away far too quickly Anya made a dash for the southern cliff face. She had not run out of options yet! As she ran south however, the forest grew brighter and brighter on both sides.
Anya gave a sigh of relief as the cliff face came into view. The forest was growing hot as fire began to spread into view along the tree tops. Without hesitation she threw herself at the rock wall and began to climb. The fire seemed to race across the tree's leaves as she climbed the unforgiving cliff. As she reached the canopy along the rocks she felt the heat of the fire along her back, the fire had caught up with her!
Despite her best efforts the fire licked at Anya's fur and before she could ascend past the flames it had spread along her tail and legs. The fire felt like being submerged into a hot bath, Anya felt no pain but the fire ate at her fur and spread along it. Placing one hand past the other, she continued to climb the steep cliff, even as the fire spread to her clothing and hair. With every foot she climbed, Anya began to lose pieces of her clothing as they burned away. With her fur and hair rapidly burning away, Anya's singed and blistered skin began to show through.
Finally reaching the ledge of the cliff, Anya's eyes spotted the boots of a soldier waiting at the top. As she looked up to identify the man, he thrust a pole against her face firmly. Surprised, Anya turned her face to dislodge the pole but it was already too late. The rocks and dirt Anya had been holding onto gave-way and she began to fall back from the cliff face. Anya felt the world slow down as her feet left the wall of rock, as she fell back she noticed the soldier was wearing the Greatwall uniform. Anya twisted around as she fell back towards the forest; she could see dozens of northern soldiers below her, their burning corpses littering the tree tops.
Anya came crashing through the canopy to land against the ground with a sickening crunch. Clutching her bare chest, Anya rolled onto her back. The fall had forced her breath from her and she fought just to breath. All around her brush, leaves and branches were burning; all competing for the air Anya desperately needed. Mere seconds began to feel like minutes as Anya struggled, finally catching her breath.
The sounds of collapsing trees snapped Anya's mind back to the matter at hand. Rising to her feet she could feel pressure in her chest. Closing her eyes for a moment she focused her flesh weaving magic inwards and felt out her broken ribs, they would take more time than she had to repair. Opening her eyes, Anya started to trek through the burning forest. She still had to try to find an escape.
Orientating herself with the cliff face, Anya headed east towards the stream she had used to start half of the hellish fire she was trapped in. Green arcs of energy traveled along her flesh and chest as she started consciously repairing her charring flesh and broken ribs. Carefully she avoided burning bushes and corpses, occasionally dodging painfully away from falling trees, Anya steadily made her way further.
Coming in view of the burning stream, Anya paused. It was several feet wide and still burning strongly but beyond it was wide open plains and freedom from the fire which was making her flesh and muscles hard and stiff. Rendered nude by flame and surrounded by burning forest, Anya decided to risk the burning oil and jump the stream. Gathering herself she dashed at the stream and vaulted over it. Her muscles fought her efforts and her lungs struggled to lift her as they fought the fires for each breath. Anya shouted her determination as she sailed over the flames towards her freedom.
In a flash, however, Anya's feet touched down two feet short of the shore. Her oil coated feet met muddy streambed and slid behind her. As fluidly as she had jumped, she slid under the water, if only for a moment. Steadying herself Anya clawed at the shore, pulling herself out of the flame crowned waters. As her body left the warm waters the oil clung to her flesh and ignited anew. Crawling onto the shore Anya struggled to clear the burning oil from her eyes and face. Blinded and unable to breath Anya's struggles grew weaker and weaker. Her flesh weaving, unable to keep up with the appetite of the flames, could not stem the damage any longer. Her body failing her Anya slowly stopped moving entirely.
"How could your best laid plans fall apart so badly? You did not count on your allies to deviate from your schemes and you left yourself trapped along with your enemy. Is that what you think a cunning manipulator is? You are no great tactician!" Grigory laughed as Anya's vision returned to her slowly. Standing before her, Girgory held her mace high. With a sweeping motion he brought the mace down against Anya's face, shattering her jaw and tossing her several feet to the side. "I was hoping you would be able to resist your fears more easily Anya. How disappointing really, we had so much catching up to do." Grigory teased as he hefted the mace over his shoulder and began walking over to a stunned Anya.
Anya's vision began to fade again as the black haze closed in on her again. For the first time in many years Anya feared for her life. If she could not shrug off Grigory's dark assault, she would certainly die.
To Be Continued!
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Actually, I feel really good about this chapter. I had planned to continue the chapter till the end of the story but it was getting long so I decided to put a chapter break there. Please leave me a comment, even if its criticism. personally I have no idea what burning alive is like but i imagine its a bit more gory and lethal than that. I envisioned it that she really wasn't burning until being coated in oil and smoke inhalation wouldn't be much of an issue because there was no enclosure really. I'm no expert though.
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Topic: Who Am I? (Read 3856 times)