Original: Survival: Part I of 2
The rest of this story should be up within the week, seeing as I have it written in longhand already. I just need to edit/type it... but school work will prolly tie me up until tuesday. >.> Unless I do my usual thing and procrastinate.
Anyway:
Part 2
Title: Survival
Part: 1 of 2
Words: 2,664
Summary: The Nineko empire has fallen, but part of the imperial family is still alive and under the protection of lieutenant-general Marril. However, the Revenants are determined to eradicate the cat-people from their territory and they do not play fair.
Survival: Part I
The kits were playing in the living room, laughing and snarling as they tried to pin each other against the harsh concrete slabs. Arril, this oldest, had the pure white ears and tail of her lineage and was the referee for the good-natured brawl. Mana her younger brother had the same tinted gray tail as their father as well as his temperament, and was currently trying to fight off the twins. Born a few days before the family had to retreat from their homeland a little over a year ago, the twins were as white and fluffy-tailed as the first emperor. Since Mana was only a couple years older, there were many flailing limbs and tickling involved in the battle.
Arial the imperial princess of the Nineko watched her children from her favorite chair, a newly-mended trap in her lap. Until a year ago, she had not been allowed to do anything as common as mending; but the fall of the Empire changed a lot of things. In order to survive, she had to learn all she could from Marril, her husband's second-in-command who had taken the family into hiding after his death. Her husband, the late general Lirril, would have been appalled at the fate of his family; but Marril knew he would be relieved that they were still alive. She had long ago decided that being alive was the most important thing to her people, because the death of the royal family would be the end of hope.
The former officer had lost a lot of weight since they went into hiding. She had stubbornly refused to reduce the portions of her charges' meals, taking the brunt of short rations. Arial had tried to convince her to take more food onto her plate, but was at a loss on how to force the warrior to eat properly. However, Marril's body was still strong and limber, and whatever strength she lacked she made up for with a ruthless cunning.
"Come eat." She said once the fish she had caught earlier were cleaned and gutted. The table was set, the plates as full as circumstances allowed. Without any apparent effort, she caught the twins by the scruff of their necks as they ran to the table, lifting them off their feet for a few seconds. "Manners."
"Yes Mar..." They chorused, ears lowered in shame.
Arial sat first at the round table, followed by her children in order of birth. Marril sat after the twins had settled, not touching her food until the princess cut into the meat. Taking their time, the adults talked quietly as they ate, only paying attention to the kits' banter if addressed.
"Are you two going to play?" Aida, the youngest twin, asked her mother.
"Play what?" Arial asked mildly, cleaning Ida's face as he scowled petulantly.
"Fighting!"
"Ya!"
"Marril won't face us without lectures!"
"You haven't trained in a while." Marril pointed out, golden eyes brightening.
"Please mommy!"
"We're bored mommy!"
Arial gave a small smile and shook her head in bemusement. "If my father could see me now..." She took Marril's hand, allowing the other to lead her to the larger subunit of the basement that was covered in practice mats. The kits ran up to their favorite perch; a pile of loose stones that had once been a stairway to the storm shelter in the basement. It was now clogged with rubble in the upper portions, and the kits had a small nest of pillows at its edge.
"Poles or hands?" Marril inquired, her long striped tail swishing eagerly from side to side. It was not often that the princess would yield to her kits' demands.
"Hands. I'm not going to give you any more of an advantage than you already have."
"But Her Majesty has trained since she was a kit."
Arial sneered at the innocent look on the calico's face. "And you were the greatest lieutenant-general in the imperial army, able to take down the general." She moved as she spoke, dropping an inch from the ground before she launched herself at Marril's legs. The Nineko jumped clear, running a hand along Arial's tail as it passed, making the princess sigh. She landed in time to evade the princess' kick, the blocked the flurry of punches with her forearms. The princess' ears flicked back in irritation, smelling the other's excitement even before she was pinned against the warrior's chest. The kits cheered: Arril for her mother, Mana for the powerful warrior he aspired to be. The twins switched with each second.
"Yield?" Marril purred, nuzzling the princess' neck.
"Never." Arial flicked her fluffy white tail along Marril's, using the warrior's brief lapse of focus to throw her to the ground. Unfortunately for her plan, the veteran's reflexes allowed her to switch their positions in mid-air. The twins, too excited to sit still any longer, broke into a similar scuffle on the stairs.
"And now?" Marril whispered, brushing her lips across the princess' smooth throat.
"Same as I always told my husband," the princess hooked a leg between Marril's and pressed up, rolling them until she was on top. "I always win."
The former lieutenant did not seem to mind. This was more for the kits' entertainment than anything; true training was a lot less playful and a lot more repetitive.
A sudden crash from the collapsed stairwell made them look away from each other. Ida started bawling, a scratch running from his eyebrow to his ear. Aida started to cry in sympathy.
"That's why you should not scuffle on the stairs." Arril told her siblings primly.
Arial allowed Marril to sneak a kiss before going to her children. "Hush, it is only a scratch."
Marril turned away as Arial started to clean Ida's wound with her rough feline tongue. The kit was now protesting that he was fine, but Arial would not stop. The warrior walked over to the small window on the southern wall of the kitchen and peered out. The sun was setting, shadows stretching across the untamed cluster of vegetation that hid the window. The shadows only seemed to make the greenery seem wilder, and more beautiful to Marril. Wild, free, and able to stretch towards the sun; unlike the Revenant's gardens, which were carefully trimmed and arranged in orthodox patterns.
Except something struck her as wrong. Without thinking, she ducked out of sight as a foot crashed through the underbrush. She spun with a hiss, running to the family and grabbing the two oldest kits. "Hide!"
Arial grabbed the now-silent twins and went straight to the hidden sub-cellar. She could hear the blood pounding through her body, every breath of air being as loud as thousand fans; but she kept calm. This was not the first time Revenant's had passed by their hiding place. She pulled the door open and took a reluctant step into the inundated cellar. The water was free of disease despite its apparent stagnancy, but it still had a peculiar taste. The water would be up to her breasts in their established hiding place with provisions in water-proof containers. The twins clung to her, whimpering and nuzzling her body for reassurance. "Hush..." She breathed, looking back to make sure Marril and the other two were following.
The warrior was setting the kits down when the princess caught her eyes. She shook her head, grabbing her glaive from its place at the door. 'I'll be a few minutes.' She mouthed, closing the door behind her.
"Careful." The princess whispered, worry crawling down her spine and settling in her stomach.
Maril carefully opened a pouch of dust, and sprinkled some on the wall and the hidden latch. She then opened the door to the shelter up the tunnel and waited, hearing footsteps. Her hold on the glaive was loose, but secure, as she turned her full attention to listening.
Six pairs of feet thundered overhead, and Marril thought she heard more but could not be sure. She hoped that they would not get too curious, so many disappearances at once may arouse a Judge's curiosity.
"If you're lying to me, I'll rip your tongue out." A nasal voice that was used to being obeyed.
"Blood." Another said, sounding as if speaking that one word was a feat in and of itself, no matter its meaning. That was to be expected, semi-intelligent Revenants were rare. They usually rose to the ranks of Commanders, the elite becoming Judges if they survived the Trial. "Fresh." It added a minute later, sounding as if it were done talking for the next few weeks.
"Clear the way for us."
Marril winced, adjusting her stance. This group had provoked a sense of unease she had not felt in a while. Stones crashed against the upper level of the basement, making the makeshift shelter tremble.
"Pillows." Another crash, and the sound of shredding.
"They know we're here." The first one said.
"You lot first." A freakishly soft voice ordered, barely audible to Marril's ears. Her fur bristled, grip tightening instinctually.
Marril listened as the designated scouts made their way down the stairs, tossing things this way and that as they made their way through the basement. The dishes clattered to the floor, more pillows were torn apart, storage boxes were thrown against the walls as if they could hide a Nineko. Once those were trashed, the scouts continued towards the shelters.
"They're still here, I can smell fear in the air." The nasal voice pushed them forward, remaining at the rear of the group.
Marril closed her eyes for a moment, realizing that she could not avoid this fight without endangering the family. The former lieutenant-general kissed the shaft of her glaive as one of the Revenants stepped in front of her shelter, and kicked a level into activating. A ram burst through the door as she jumped clear, crushing a Revenant against a stone pillar as she sliced another open. Spinning the glaive over her back as she rolled out of a Revenant's lethal grasp, she brought it up and tore it open from hip to throat. A coolness entered her mind as she fought to kill as many as she could while she still had the advantage of surprise.
A Nineko team would have reacted defensively as the ram slid along its tracks, she could not help comparing.
The Revenants fell back after another fell, finally realizing that the narrow tunnel hindered their movements more than their attacker's. A squat one backed into the open sparring field, leveling its taser - a Commander if she ever saw one. Its flesh was the same painful red as the rest of its species, the cords of muscle clinging to a skeleton unencumbered by fat, a taut layer of flaky skin over it. Like the rest of its kind, the pelvic area was obscured by a grotesque layer of excess skin, hiding its gender. It had large dull gray eyes, rotten teeth in an overly large jaw, and a characteristic lack of any hair on its body made it so appalling that Marril's stomach clenched. She kept to the shadows, blending in so well that she seemed to disappear in the Revenants' weaker vision. As the taser-wielder's finger tightened over the trigger, Marril darted forward at full speed, leaping off the left-hand wall to fly over its head. She slammed the blunt end of her glaive against its neck, using the blade to destroy the taser as it fell from limp hands. The Commander fell to its knees and the other two Revenant''s charged forwards from the stairwell, swinging their clubs. She jumped again, using the kneeling revenant as a step to avoid the clubs. Twisting in mid-air, she sliced one of the Revenant's heads off. The other's club clipped her ankle, and it almost gave out on her as she landed. The following blow she stopped with the shaft of her glaive, using her opponent's weight and momentum to unbalance it. She was about to attack when it dropped the club and grabbed the glaive just below the blade. She hissed as it threw her into the overturned remains of the table. Thankfully, she missed the legs. Her glaive was still in her hand.
She quickly got to her feet, using her weapon to steady herself. Before she could do anything more, a shot came from the stairs, bullet tearing through the shaft of her glaive and clipping her in the side. She fell back, the blade-less half of the glaive still in her hand.
Thick hands closed around her throat almost immediately. Instinct made her ram the splintered shaft into the squat Revenant's gray eyes. It grunted in pain and relaxed its hold slightly. Before it could recover, Marril rammed the shaft into its eye again and again until it let go of her.
Another pair of hands caught her wrists as she rolled away. As if her struggling body was putting up no more resistance than a blade of grass, her attacker transfered her wrists to one hand and used the other to push her head against the stone floor. A leg the size of her torso pinned her lower body. Eyes blurred with tears of pain and blood from a scrape she had not noticed before, she managed to make out the wicked green eyes of a Judge. She fought against it, adrenaline giving her the strength to twist her body to reduce the pressure. Before she could break free, the Judge knocked her head back against the stone floor.
Marril struggled to stay conscious, her eyes full of helpless fury even as her body lost its strength. She could handle a common Revenant with her bare hands, a Commander with a weapon, but she needed to be at full strength to break a Judge. She did resist the cries of pain her throat ached to express out of stubbornness.
"I think I recognize you." The soft melodious voice that came from the Revenant's throat was at odds with its massive body. It bit her shoulder. Though its teeth were infected with rot, its jaw was powerful enough to break through the flesh with ease. Marril's grip on consciousness wavered. "You taste familiar." It added thoughtfully. "Grimo, bring me a light."
"Yes your Honor." The squat Revenant's nasal voice was full of loathing as it hobbled over, using its free hand to cover the unsalvageable eye. The Judge pressed the hand with Marril's bound wrists against her throat and used the other one to hold the lantern. "Can I kill it?"
"Maybe." The Judge answered, holding the lantern over Marril's head. "I think you got away from my men after I killed that general... I remember the smell of your anger. Why did he order you to run?" it nudged Marril with the lantern. "I thought you halflings would rather die than run from battle, but you killed the squads I sent after you. You must have weakened since then, or you would not have survived those first few weeks. I believe your name was Marril Okaya... one of the strongest halflings to fight in the war. The rest of the first regiment were killed the day your general told me you'd be my downfall, but I could kill you so easily now. So tell me halfling, why were you sent away?"
Marril kept her face neutral, which wasn't too hard since she could barely process what was being said.
"Grimo, collect the bodies, touch nothing else unless you want Vorlyi to smile upon you."
"Your honor? Can I kill that one? It took my eye!"
"It amuses me. I want to break it." The Judge answered with a grotesque smile as Marril clawed at its neck as it picked her up.
The lieutenant-general felt a jab to her bullet wound and lost her tenuous hold on consciousness.
Anyway:
Part 2
Title: Survival
Part: 1 of 2
Words: 2,664
Summary: The Nineko empire has fallen, but part of the imperial family is still alive and under the protection of lieutenant-general Marril. However, the Revenants are determined to eradicate the cat-people from their territory and they do not play fair.
Survival: Part I
The kits were playing in the living room, laughing and snarling as they tried to pin each other against the harsh concrete slabs. Arril, this oldest, had the pure white ears and tail of her lineage and was the referee for the good-natured brawl. Mana her younger brother had the same tinted gray tail as their father as well as his temperament, and was currently trying to fight off the twins. Born a few days before the family had to retreat from their homeland a little over a year ago, the twins were as white and fluffy-tailed as the first emperor. Since Mana was only a couple years older, there were many flailing limbs and tickling involved in the battle.
Arial the imperial princess of the Nineko watched her children from her favorite chair, a newly-mended trap in her lap. Until a year ago, she had not been allowed to do anything as common as mending; but the fall of the Empire changed a lot of things. In order to survive, she had to learn all she could from Marril, her husband's second-in-command who had taken the family into hiding after his death. Her husband, the late general Lirril, would have been appalled at the fate of his family; but Marril knew he would be relieved that they were still alive. She had long ago decided that being alive was the most important thing to her people, because the death of the royal family would be the end of hope.
The former officer had lost a lot of weight since they went into hiding. She had stubbornly refused to reduce the portions of her charges' meals, taking the brunt of short rations. Arial had tried to convince her to take more food onto her plate, but was at a loss on how to force the warrior to eat properly. However, Marril's body was still strong and limber, and whatever strength she lacked she made up for with a ruthless cunning.
"Come eat." She said once the fish she had caught earlier were cleaned and gutted. The table was set, the plates as full as circumstances allowed. Without any apparent effort, she caught the twins by the scruff of their necks as they ran to the table, lifting them off their feet for a few seconds. "Manners."
"Yes Mar..." They chorused, ears lowered in shame.
Arial sat first at the round table, followed by her children in order of birth. Marril sat after the twins had settled, not touching her food until the princess cut into the meat. Taking their time, the adults talked quietly as they ate, only paying attention to the kits' banter if addressed.
"Are you two going to play?" Aida, the youngest twin, asked her mother.
"Play what?" Arial asked mildly, cleaning Ida's face as he scowled petulantly.
"Fighting!"
"Ya!"
"Marril won't face us without lectures!"
"You haven't trained in a while." Marril pointed out, golden eyes brightening.
"Please mommy!"
"We're bored mommy!"
Arial gave a small smile and shook her head in bemusement. "If my father could see me now..." She took Marril's hand, allowing the other to lead her to the larger subunit of the basement that was covered in practice mats. The kits ran up to their favorite perch; a pile of loose stones that had once been a stairway to the storm shelter in the basement. It was now clogged with rubble in the upper portions, and the kits had a small nest of pillows at its edge.
"Poles or hands?" Marril inquired, her long striped tail swishing eagerly from side to side. It was not often that the princess would yield to her kits' demands.
"Hands. I'm not going to give you any more of an advantage than you already have."
"But Her Majesty has trained since she was a kit."
Arial sneered at the innocent look on the calico's face. "And you were the greatest lieutenant-general in the imperial army, able to take down the general." She moved as she spoke, dropping an inch from the ground before she launched herself at Marril's legs. The Nineko jumped clear, running a hand along Arial's tail as it passed, making the princess sigh. She landed in time to evade the princess' kick, the blocked the flurry of punches with her forearms. The princess' ears flicked back in irritation, smelling the other's excitement even before she was pinned against the warrior's chest. The kits cheered: Arril for her mother, Mana for the powerful warrior he aspired to be. The twins switched with each second.
"Yield?" Marril purred, nuzzling the princess' neck.
"Never." Arial flicked her fluffy white tail along Marril's, using the warrior's brief lapse of focus to throw her to the ground. Unfortunately for her plan, the veteran's reflexes allowed her to switch their positions in mid-air. The twins, too excited to sit still any longer, broke into a similar scuffle on the stairs.
"And now?" Marril whispered, brushing her lips across the princess' smooth throat.
"Same as I always told my husband," the princess hooked a leg between Marril's and pressed up, rolling them until she was on top. "I always win."
The former lieutenant did not seem to mind. This was more for the kits' entertainment than anything; true training was a lot less playful and a lot more repetitive.
A sudden crash from the collapsed stairwell made them look away from each other. Ida started bawling, a scratch running from his eyebrow to his ear. Aida started to cry in sympathy.
"That's why you should not scuffle on the stairs." Arril told her siblings primly.
Arial allowed Marril to sneak a kiss before going to her children. "Hush, it is only a scratch."
Marril turned away as Arial started to clean Ida's wound with her rough feline tongue. The kit was now protesting that he was fine, but Arial would not stop. The warrior walked over to the small window on the southern wall of the kitchen and peered out. The sun was setting, shadows stretching across the untamed cluster of vegetation that hid the window. The shadows only seemed to make the greenery seem wilder, and more beautiful to Marril. Wild, free, and able to stretch towards the sun; unlike the Revenant's gardens, which were carefully trimmed and arranged in orthodox patterns.
Except something struck her as wrong. Without thinking, she ducked out of sight as a foot crashed through the underbrush. She spun with a hiss, running to the family and grabbing the two oldest kits. "Hide!"
Arial grabbed the now-silent twins and went straight to the hidden sub-cellar. She could hear the blood pounding through her body, every breath of air being as loud as thousand fans; but she kept calm. This was not the first time Revenant's had passed by their hiding place. She pulled the door open and took a reluctant step into the inundated cellar. The water was free of disease despite its apparent stagnancy, but it still had a peculiar taste. The water would be up to her breasts in their established hiding place with provisions in water-proof containers. The twins clung to her, whimpering and nuzzling her body for reassurance. "Hush..." She breathed, looking back to make sure Marril and the other two were following.
The warrior was setting the kits down when the princess caught her eyes. She shook her head, grabbing her glaive from its place at the door. 'I'll be a few minutes.' She mouthed, closing the door behind her.
"Careful." The princess whispered, worry crawling down her spine and settling in her stomach.
Maril carefully opened a pouch of dust, and sprinkled some on the wall and the hidden latch. She then opened the door to the shelter up the tunnel and waited, hearing footsteps. Her hold on the glaive was loose, but secure, as she turned her full attention to listening.
Six pairs of feet thundered overhead, and Marril thought she heard more but could not be sure. She hoped that they would not get too curious, so many disappearances at once may arouse a Judge's curiosity.
"If you're lying to me, I'll rip your tongue out." A nasal voice that was used to being obeyed.
"Blood." Another said, sounding as if speaking that one word was a feat in and of itself, no matter its meaning. That was to be expected, semi-intelligent Revenants were rare. They usually rose to the ranks of Commanders, the elite becoming Judges if they survived the Trial. "Fresh." It added a minute later, sounding as if it were done talking for the next few weeks.
"Clear the way for us."
Marril winced, adjusting her stance. This group had provoked a sense of unease she had not felt in a while. Stones crashed against the upper level of the basement, making the makeshift shelter tremble.
"Pillows." Another crash, and the sound of shredding.
"They know we're here." The first one said.
"You lot first." A freakishly soft voice ordered, barely audible to Marril's ears. Her fur bristled, grip tightening instinctually.
Marril listened as the designated scouts made their way down the stairs, tossing things this way and that as they made their way through the basement. The dishes clattered to the floor, more pillows were torn apart, storage boxes were thrown against the walls as if they could hide a Nineko. Once those were trashed, the scouts continued towards the shelters.
"They're still here, I can smell fear in the air." The nasal voice pushed them forward, remaining at the rear of the group.
Marril closed her eyes for a moment, realizing that she could not avoid this fight without endangering the family. The former lieutenant-general kissed the shaft of her glaive as one of the Revenants stepped in front of her shelter, and kicked a level into activating. A ram burst through the door as she jumped clear, crushing a Revenant against a stone pillar as she sliced another open. Spinning the glaive over her back as she rolled out of a Revenant's lethal grasp, she brought it up and tore it open from hip to throat. A coolness entered her mind as she fought to kill as many as she could while she still had the advantage of surprise.
A Nineko team would have reacted defensively as the ram slid along its tracks, she could not help comparing.
The Revenants fell back after another fell, finally realizing that the narrow tunnel hindered their movements more than their attacker's. A squat one backed into the open sparring field, leveling its taser - a Commander if she ever saw one. Its flesh was the same painful red as the rest of its species, the cords of muscle clinging to a skeleton unencumbered by fat, a taut layer of flaky skin over it. Like the rest of its kind, the pelvic area was obscured by a grotesque layer of excess skin, hiding its gender. It had large dull gray eyes, rotten teeth in an overly large jaw, and a characteristic lack of any hair on its body made it so appalling that Marril's stomach clenched. She kept to the shadows, blending in so well that she seemed to disappear in the Revenants' weaker vision. As the taser-wielder's finger tightened over the trigger, Marril darted forward at full speed, leaping off the left-hand wall to fly over its head. She slammed the blunt end of her glaive against its neck, using the blade to destroy the taser as it fell from limp hands. The Commander fell to its knees and the other two Revenant''s charged forwards from the stairwell, swinging their clubs. She jumped again, using the kneeling revenant as a step to avoid the clubs. Twisting in mid-air, she sliced one of the Revenant's heads off. The other's club clipped her ankle, and it almost gave out on her as she landed. The following blow she stopped with the shaft of her glaive, using her opponent's weight and momentum to unbalance it. She was about to attack when it dropped the club and grabbed the glaive just below the blade. She hissed as it threw her into the overturned remains of the table. Thankfully, she missed the legs. Her glaive was still in her hand.
She quickly got to her feet, using her weapon to steady herself. Before she could do anything more, a shot came from the stairs, bullet tearing through the shaft of her glaive and clipping her in the side. She fell back, the blade-less half of the glaive still in her hand.
Thick hands closed around her throat almost immediately. Instinct made her ram the splintered shaft into the squat Revenant's gray eyes. It grunted in pain and relaxed its hold slightly. Before it could recover, Marril rammed the shaft into its eye again and again until it let go of her.
Another pair of hands caught her wrists as she rolled away. As if her struggling body was putting up no more resistance than a blade of grass, her attacker transfered her wrists to one hand and used the other to push her head against the stone floor. A leg the size of her torso pinned her lower body. Eyes blurred with tears of pain and blood from a scrape she had not noticed before, she managed to make out the wicked green eyes of a Judge. She fought against it, adrenaline giving her the strength to twist her body to reduce the pressure. Before she could break free, the Judge knocked her head back against the stone floor.
Marril struggled to stay conscious, her eyes full of helpless fury even as her body lost its strength. She could handle a common Revenant with her bare hands, a Commander with a weapon, but she needed to be at full strength to break a Judge. She did resist the cries of pain her throat ached to express out of stubbornness.
"I think I recognize you." The soft melodious voice that came from the Revenant's throat was at odds with its massive body. It bit her shoulder. Though its teeth were infected with rot, its jaw was powerful enough to break through the flesh with ease. Marril's grip on consciousness wavered. "You taste familiar." It added thoughtfully. "Grimo, bring me a light."
"Yes your Honor." The squat Revenant's nasal voice was full of loathing as it hobbled over, using its free hand to cover the unsalvageable eye. The Judge pressed the hand with Marril's bound wrists against her throat and used the other one to hold the lantern. "Can I kill it?"
"Maybe." The Judge answered, holding the lantern over Marril's head. "I think you got away from my men after I killed that general... I remember the smell of your anger. Why did he order you to run?" it nudged Marril with the lantern. "I thought you halflings would rather die than run from battle, but you killed the squads I sent after you. You must have weakened since then, or you would not have survived those first few weeks. I believe your name was Marril Okaya... one of the strongest halflings to fight in the war. The rest of the first regiment were killed the day your general told me you'd be my downfall, but I could kill you so easily now. So tell me halfling, why were you sent away?"
Marril kept her face neutral, which wasn't too hard since she could barely process what was being said.
"Grimo, collect the bodies, touch nothing else unless you want Vorlyi to smile upon you."
"Your honor? Can I kill that one? It took my eye!"
"It amuses me. I want to break it." The Judge answered with a grotesque smile as Marril clawed at its neck as it picked her up.
The lieutenant-general felt a jab to her bullet wound and lost her tenuous hold on consciousness.