| Chapter 14 | |
|---|---|
| Series | Crossfire by Pixichi |
| Chapter | Fourteen |
| Writer | Pixichi |
| Chapter Chronology | |
| Previous | Crossfire, Chapter 13 |
| Next | Crossfire, Chapter 15 |
| ← Crossfire, Chapter 13 | Chapter Chronology | Crossfire, Chapter 15 → |
Chapter 14[]
"Connie! Oh, thank goodness I caught you!" Gregory rushed up to his barmaid. Connie turned around, halfway down the pier and heading towards the beach.
"Its Saturday Gregory, what do you want?" Connie replied coldly. She hated her boss. Gregory frowned, still half out of breath from running.
"No, it's not about that!" Connie cupped her hand around one of Lance's furry white ears.
"Then whats it about? I'm kinda busy you know."
"Banshee. A queen. She's been spotted in Wraithmarsh. Folks are worried that she'll try and come here." Connie stared at him.
"So what do you want me to do about it? I'm retired you know." Gregory stood up straight, trying to look imposing, but against the tall heroine, the short older man only managed to pull off ridiculous.
"The townsfolk heard about what happened to your house Connie. They said that if you kill this banshee, they'll give you 3'000 gold coins." Connie's eyes widened.
"What?! 3'000 gold? But most of the people around here are poor."
"They are at that, but their all willing to chip in. They all feel sorry for what happened in the fire, they all want to help, and while normally, they wouldn't share their gold with anyone, seeing as its you, and that your their only hope for survival, they want to give it to you. So what do ya say lass? Help your fellow man huh?" Connie thought for a moment. She had retired from being a hero, but if there was indeed a banshee queen on its way to Bloodstone, she was the towns only hope. A banshee had come through and destroyed the place once before, and if Connie hadn't been around to help, the town would have most likely been doomed.
"Ok, I'll do it. But just this once." She begrudgingly accepted. Gregory exclaimed triumphantly.
"Wonderful! I knew that we could count on you!"
"Yeah, whatever." Connie grumbled. "Just make good with the gold when I get back." With that, she marched off towards the winding road that led to the foreboding wastes of Wraithmarsh. Connie had since fished her sword out of the burned down rubble that used to be her house. It had been three weeks since Reaver had torched the place, and Connie was glad that it had still been there at all. As she made her way past the tavern, a voice called out to her.
"Connie! Wait." Connie whirled around to see Reaver.
"Oh, good morning Reaver. What are you doing here?" Connie's face lit up at the sight of the scoundrel.
"I came to give you this." He held out his hand, and there was a rather heavy looking sack of gold inside. "You spent a week with me and as promised, I am paying you back for that old burned down shack of yours dear." Connie took the gold and smiled at him.
"Thank you." Reaver smiled, but he also looked a bit sad.
"So I guess this is it then, you don't have to ever see me again if you don't want to." He added. Connie wrapped her arms around his neck, much to his surprise.
"Reaver. We're friends now. Don't be silly, of course I still want to see you." Reaver reluctantly hugged her back.
"I'm glad Connie." He replied. Connie and he pulled apart and then looked at each other though longing eyes and awkward silence. Finally, Reaver spoke.
"So, where are you off to on this fine spring day?" He asked.
"Oh, I'm going to Wraithmarsh to kill a banshee queen." Connie replied casually.
"A banshee queen hmmm? My dear girl you certainly know how to make a dual weekend into a lively one." He mused. Connie shrugged.
"I'm just helping people that's all. I don't even want to go, I was going to go take a walk down by the beach."
"You are retired sweetness, you don't have to go if you don't want to." Reaver purred.
"Actually, I do. I need the gold."
"Oh, so my little heroine is also a bounty hunter then?" Reaver eyed Connie wolfishly.
"I guess so." She smiled again.
"Well, I'm not really doing anything this morning, do you mind if I tag along? One needs as many eyes and ears available as possible when toddling around Wraithmarsh you know."
"Sure come on." The two heros made their way through the dank muggy quagmire. Connie hadn't seen nary a sign of life, but she kept her hand on her sword, ready for the banshee, or anything else, when the time came. Wraithmarsh always bothered her. It was was creepy enough already, knowing that it used to be a perfectly normal, thriving, farming community. But the fact that daylight never seemed to make itself prominent always seemed disturbing to Connie. Even on the most sunny afternoons elsewhere, Wraithmarsh was always dark, cold, and desolate. Other than the utter stillness and marshy smell, Reaver and Connie's journey through Wraithmarsh was uneventful.
"Such a cheery place is it not?" Reaver joked, trying to lighten the mood.
"I'm sure it was once." Connie replied, clearly in no mood for humor.
"Really dear, why can't you just lighten up a bit?" Connie turned and faced him.
"Lighten up?! Reaver, we are in the middle of a dead town, a town that you destroyed, and furthermore, one of the most dangerous places in all of Albion. We need to be very cautious and serious. The last thing I need or want to do right now is lighten up!"
"Alright, but do you mind it I hum a tune back here? This awful fog is so depressing"
"Shhhh!" Connie hushed him and motioned for Reaver to squat down. Reaver looked towards where Connie was pointing, and saw an area known as the Drowned Farm, and then he saw something else. Through the smokey fog, a levitating form loomed by an old well. Connie pulled out her longsword and slowly made her way to the foreboding figure. Reaver followed close behind, his Dragonstomper .48 in tow. But as soon as she was a mere ten feet from the monster, the banshee whirled around and screeched at her, paralyzing Connie with cold terror. Connie shook off her fear and made a lunge towards the enigmatic entity. But her sword merely went right through the incorporeal figure. The banshee laughed and with another terrible scream, she sent out five wisplike forms down into the wet bog. The small black imps rose slowly out of the drowned earth and advanced towards Connie and Reaver. Connie took some harsh slashes to the first banshee child as it came towards her, armed with shadowy sythes in each of its hands. Lance also helped by focusing his fangs on another of the implike creatures. Reaver fired a round of bullets into the third, leaving only two of the banshees malevolent offspring to deal with before the three would have a chance at attacking her. Suddenly, the ghost began to speak in its cold and raspy voice. But to Connie's surprise, the banshee wasn't addressing her.
"Look around you, you can still see everything the way it was can't you. Do you remember playing with your daughter by this well? Do you remember how she screamed as the shadow beasts ripped her apart?" Connie looked over at Reaver, his eyes were like two dark voids. He was unable to move, unable to fight. He could hear Connie calling out to him, he could feel as the little imps slashed and clawed at his flesh, but he was unable to move. He was stuck on the banshees words, it's cruel reminder of what he had tried so hard to forget.
"Did you really think that the King of Shadows would give you what you wanted? Did you really think that your wish would help your family?"
"Reaver!" Connie's voice cried through the murky fog that was slowly filling Reaver's head. He saw her lunge at the banshee a second time, her sword sliced the ghostly woman clean through. Black blood spurted out of the invisible wounds, and the banshee gave one last horrible cry before dissipating into smoke. Satisfied that the creature was dead, Connie walked slowly over to Reaver. He was starting to recover from the banshees paralyzing effects. He fell to his knees as she put her hand on his shoulder, his bloody wounds filling the swamped marsh with crimson swirls. Connie looked down at him, unsure what to say, unsure about what she had just witnessed.
"Reaver, are you alright?" Reaver didn't answer. Although the banshee's spell had worn off, he appeared to still be very much unable to move. Connie knelt down beside him, getting her dress wet.
"Reaver, your hurt. We need to head back to Bloodstone now."
"Go on ahead Connie, I'll catch up." He finally managed. Connie was shocked by what she was hearing.
"Reaver, if I leave you out here like this you'll die. Don't you understand that? Come on, your pretty banged up." She tried to reason with him as she pulled on his arm. But he pushed her away.
"I'm the Hero of Skill Connie! I think that I am more than capable of taking care of myself." Reaver snapped. Connie backed away.
"Reaver...I'm sorry. This must be very hard for you. Seeing your hometown like this all over again. I didn't know that you had a daughter..." Her words were cut off by Reaver. He had his pistol out and aimed at her. His eyes were full of madness and rage.
"I told you to leave, now go!" He roared. Lance stepped in front of Connie and gave a low threatening growl. Connie put her hand on his bristled back and the wolfdog looked up towards his beloved mistress.
"Come on boy, he wants to be alone." She then turned and walked away. Lance followed, keeping a watchful eye on Reaver. Connie did not leave the marshes however. Instead, she hid under the dilapidated bridge and watched Reaver from afar. He barely seemed to move. He just stayed on his knees in the cold muddy waters of the Drowned Farm. Connie wondered if he was still unable to move. Luckily, no hollow men or balverines appeared to be taking an interest in the lone man who was bleeding out into the mire.
"Poor Reaver." Connie whispered to Lance, who gave a whimper. "This was his hometown, and he was the one who caused its doom. If he actually had a family, I wonder why he did what he did?" She tried to think up a reason why someone who already had a good life would ask for an eternal one, but she just couldn't think of a convincing story. The morning dragged on into afternoon, and Reaver still remained motionless in the wet and gloomy water. Connie had shifted her position many a time, but Reaver, who looked far more uncomfortable, had stayed perfectly still.
"His knees must hurt so much. He's been kneeling on them for hours and their already wounded. Maybe I should try to go and get him again." She started out from her hiding spot, but she felt a sharp tug on her dress. Connie looked behind her and saw Lance with a mouthful of green material in his maw. Connie smiled sweetly at him.
"I know your worried that he might shoot me, but if I don't convince him to get up and treat his injuries, he's going to be in real trouble when night falls." She knew that they had been lucky. One banshee was extremely rare in Wraithmarsh. The ghosts were usually accompanied by hordes of flesh-eating hollow men and ferocious balverines. And while it was still only afternoon, Connie was well aware from her last trek through the haunted mire, that once the sun went down, the monsters attacked in droves. Reaver would be an easy target, especially if he was already exhausted from kneeling and dizzy from the blood loss. Connie carefully confronted him again.
"Reaver. You have to get up now. We don't want to be caught out here after dark." Connie reasoned. Reaver continued to watch his reflection in the cloudy water.
" I thought you'd already left actually, why are you still here? Are you anxious to see me get ripped to shreds then?"
" I can't just leave you here to die!"
"And why is that? Is it because your a benevolent little pure angelic heroine off on your quest to do the right thing?" Reaver snapped sarcastically.
"No, its because I care about you. Your my friend now remember?" Connie replied. Reaver finally looked up at her, his head swimming.
"You heard what she said too didn't you?" He asked in a strange tone. Connie nodded slowly. "I deserve to die for what I did to them. All of them. I deserve to be torn asunder."
"Reaver. Please, get up." Connie put her arm around his shoulders and pulled up. Reaver locked eyes with his brave little heroine, and the reluctantly allowed himself to stand. The two waded through the water and onto dry land. Connie pulled out her satchel and retrieved her guild seal. Reaver looked at it, curiously.
"I don't like to do this, but you've lost a lot of blood. We need to get you home right away." With that, Connie turned the circular seal clockwise. In a flash of blue light, Connie, Reaver and Lance were teleported back to Bloodstone.