#dc#dc comics#batman#tim drake#bruce wayne#batfamily#dick grayson#batfam#dc fanart
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From picrew here 🦆
Ok, so I decided to make duck Gerald because he is the ultimate mother duck and his little family of ducklings keeps expanding XD
Of course, the one sat upon his head is Simmons, the one on his back is Ghali, Rahas is the lone ducky to his right, while Kerri and Tiffany are the other two ducklings. And yes, Tiffany is the one with her mouth open as that poor girl can only communicate by yelling.
Shiki is the one taking the picture, of course XD
Axel/Lynus & Simmons/Rahas
Axel, Lynus, Simmons, and Rahas belong to @theshatteredrose. Art belongs to the artist oWinTer on DeviantArt. I didn’t draw these, I just commissioned them as a birthday present.
@theshatteredrose here’s Part 2 of your b-day present from me. I hope you like these smol children Q--Q Happy Birthday <3
The Dark Guardian (Chapter 5) - Etrian Odyssey Fanfiction
AN: THIS IS IT! RAHAS IS FINALLY DONE WITH BEING A SPECTATOR! This chapter was satisfying to write, if I am to be honest. One more chapter to go! After this, I’ll probably take a couple of weeks off, maybe write some oneshots and such. But I’ll definitely be plotting and scheming for my next project.
Anyway, hope you enjoy~!
Warnings: Violence and murder
Ao3 | Wattpad | FFNet | Inkitt
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Chapter 5:
“What’s wrong, Shiki? Can’t you break through the paralysis yourself, Shiki?”
Ahimoth continued to taunt. Continued to mock. Continued to find sheer joy in the pain of others. His laughter was that of insanity. Damn sicko was getting off on all the pain he was inflicting upon Shiki, Gerald, and poor Simmons.
But…not for much longer.
With a silence, with a confidence he didn’t know he possessed, Rahas walked up behind Ahimoth. His footsteps were silent against the grass. He hadn’t heard him. Hadn’t seen him.
But soon he would. He had ignored him. Dismissed him. And he was going to regret it.
Rahas’ stare, cold with distain, was to be the last thing that man would ever see.
“Well, Shiki, maybe if I threaten dear ol’ Gerald’s life a little bit more, you’ll-” Ahimoth’s threat abruptly halted when a knife broke through the clothing of his right shoulder. The silver blade stained a crimson red.
As he turned his head to look at it, muted surprise on his face, Shiki’s eyes also widen. Rahas, however, ignored both men. He tightened his grip on the handle of the knife, his knuckles turning a ghastly white. And dragged the knife downwards. Through the muscles and tendons. Through the bones. Through the flesh and his clothes.
Ahimoth’s arm immediately dropped down to his side. Limply and utterly useless. Unable to keep the hold of his sword, it, too, falling uselessly to the forest floor.
Hm, the knife was quite sharp. Likely by design. Though, this knife in particular was probably crafted for the final blow. After he had his fill of his ‘pleasure’.
As Ahimoth grasped his shoulder with his left hand, he lurched himself away from Rahas and staggered back a few steps. He looked at Rahas with utter astonishment on his face. Surprised. Appalled by his actions.
“Looks like Lynus’ ramblings of bodily anatomy finally paid off.” Rahas leaned down and casually picked up Ahimoth’s dropped sword with his free hand. “Hope you can wield a sword with just your left hand there, asshole.”
Blood seeped through Ahimoth’s fingers, coating his clothing, staining the green grass a crimson red. Ahimoth glowered at him, truly furious at having been caught off guard by that dark hunter boy, let alone actually being attacked by him.
The sheer audacity of it all.
Rahas ignored him, however, and spared a moment to glance at his surroundings. He tapped the sword idly against his leg. He didn’t want to do the deed, as it were, in front of everyone. Especially not with Simmons there.
“Who would have thought that Taksony’s kid would be the one.” Ahimoth bit out a mocking laugh. “You're no different than me.”
Rahas rolled his eyes in clear distain. "That's cute, but your manipulations won't work on me."
He had heard it all before. Nothing new. The same drivel. Touching on a person’s insecurities. On their natural fear of doing wrong. Of being seen as a monster. Of being like them.
Just lies.
Better to shut him up. It was getting annoying.
Hm. That bruise on his face. Ah, it was when Axel punched him. That must have hurt. He should make it worse.
Before Ahimoth could bite out some manipulative remark in a desperate attempt to regain control over the situation, Rahas lunged forward. And stabbed the knife into the hinge of Ahimoth’s jaw. Severing the muscles and tendons on the side of his face. Maybe even badly injured that vile tongue in his mouth.
Ahimoth lurched himself backwards, instinctively rather than in reaction to his attack. The knife remained in his head, the sharp tip glinting clear through to the other side. After staggering backwards, he stared at him, eyes deranged and slacked-jaw. He reached up with his only usable arm and wrapped his fingers around the hilt of the knife. His gaze remained absolutely unhinged and narrowed in on Rahas as he ripped the knife from the side of his face.
And his mouth dropped open further.
Rahas stared back at him. “Try blowing on that whistle now.”
Ahimoth was going to have a hard time uttering any of his curses and spell, also. It didn’t take Ahimoth long to realise that, too. His grip tightened on the knife, so tight that his whole body was beginning to shake.
He then turned and fled down a narrow path.
Running, huh? Couldn’t say he was surprised. An appropriate response from a murderous coward. Still, worked in his favour; he didn’t have to drag the bastard away himself.
“Rahas!” Shiki called out to him.
But Rahas dismissively waved a hand over his shoulder at him. “Sit tight. I’ll be right back.”
He moved to follow, but paused in his steps a moment later. He then half-turned, looking directly over to where Simmons was, slumped, possibly unconscious against Axel’s chest. The redheaded supporting him as he stared at Rahas, clearly torn on what he should feel, what he should do.
“Hey, Axel? Protect everyone here.”
Axel opened his mouth, likely to protest something about him not going alone. About him being foolish to follow an obviously dangerous individual into a dangerous labyrinth. Yet, he held back. Possibly seeing the determination on his face. Or maybe he had come to the same realisation that Rahas had moments ago.
“Sure,” was all he said.
If there was one thing that redhead could do well, it was protecting others. So, Rahas turn and headed deeper into the labyrinth. He didn’t need to rush. Not really. The blood laid a trail for him to follow.
“Why are you running, Ahimoth?” Rahas called out, unable to prevent himself from using the bastard’s words again him. “You were talking a big game just moments ago.”
Of course, he didn’t expect an answer. Not anything more than an incoherent gurgle of blood through an unhinged jaw.
Whoops.
Tracking him down wasn’t going to be difficult, either. Not the way he was bleeding all over the place. That was going to catch the attention of some of the monsters, too. He had better find Ahimoth before the monsters did. Just so he could ensure that the bastard was dead.
And he found him, not a few moments later. Ahimoth leant against a tree, his right arm useless and still by his side. He had his working hand clutching his chin, likely attempting to use his war skills to heal his injuries enough to attempt to fight back. The curse he would spit at him would be diabolical.
If he could heal himself.
Ahimoth, with his wide and deranged eyes, soon noticed Rahas’ approach. He desperately staggered away from the tree and raised his only weapon, a single knife, in his direction.
Idly tossing Ahimoth’s sword to his left hand, Rahas grabbed the handle of his whip with his right hand. He quickly unholstered it from his side, and with a rapid flick of his wrist, in a motion that Shiki had taught him long ago, he unfurled his whip. And wound it around Ahimoth’s wrist.
"I know how bastards like you think,” he muttered as he pulled harshly on the whip, pulling Ahimoth off centre. And with another sharp tug, threw him to the ground. “How dare you treat me like this? I only brutally murdered and killed, stalked and tormented the ones you love. But now you're attacking me? You have the audacity to treat me with the same murderous, violent disregard that I treat others? That your inner monologue, hmm?"
Ahimoth tried to roll onto his back, to attempt to scurry away from him. Probably in the same manner that he forced his innocent victims to endure as he laughed and jeered at them.
"I hate bastards like you."
Rahas snapped his whip on Ahimoth’s thigh, paralysing the muscle. Causing his leg to drop in a dead weight. Greatly inhibiting his attempt to escape. Ahimoth would no doubt growl in frustration, or maybe spit out more manipulative insults, if his jaw was in working order.
He did utter a gurgled, hollow sound when Rahas planted his boot harshly in the centre of his chest, pinning him on the labyrinth floor. Stabbing Ahimoth’s own sword on the ground, a hair’s breath away from his throat, Rahas leaned forward. To look down at him. Into his wide, deranged eyes with his cold, dismissive ones.
"I am going to kill you. And when I do, when your rotten, worthless corpse is torn apart by monsters and scattered to the winds, know this; you are meaningless. After I kill you, I will waste no further thoughts on you. Your victims, your would-be victims will live their lives. Be happy. Be content. Move beyond this. Move beyond you."
He raised the sword and pressed the tip against the Adams apple of his throat, his hand tightening with white knuckles around the hilt.
"When you cross paths with Taksony in hell, tell him I sent you."
He brought the sword down, cutting through Ahimoth’s throat, and embedding the blade half way into the ground beneath him. A loud rush of air escaped his lungs as back arched off the ground and his eyes somehow widened further. But the air did not return to his lungs and his body went slack as his beady dark eyes stared unblinkingly back at him.
The sword severed the spinal cord and cut through the bones and tendons of his spine.
Rahas breathed a loud sigh as his shoulders released the tension he hadn’t realised he had been carrying. He unfurled his fingers from around the sword’s blade, leaving it where it stood.
It…was over.
Huh…Relief. That was all that he felt. Nothing else. Just relief.
Was what he had done 'right'? No, probably not. But was it necessary? Yes. Yes, it was. It was the only way.
“Rahas…”
Shiki. Figured the old man would break out of his own paralysis long enough to follow him.
Rahas idly wiped his hands on his pants as he turned to look behind him. There, using his sheathed blade as a walking aid, was none other than Shiki. How long he had stood there, Rahas didn’t know. Probably long enough to know what Rahas had done. What he did willingly. If the look of…guilt on his face was any indication.
Better than fear and shock, he supposed.
“How’s Simmons?” he asked as he casually coiled his whip and placed it back to his hip.
“He’s…slowly regaining his senses.”
Good.
“Rahas…” Shiki tried again.
Rahas uttered a purposely loud sigh and rubbed the back of his neck, purposely looking annoyed and defiant. "Jeez, stop with the guilt. I made my decision.”
He paused for a moment and allowed his arm to drop to his side. He stared up at the darkening canopy above their heads. “And you're free now. You, Simmons, Gerald. Everyone. He said that only death would stop him. I just helped."
Turning his gaze back down to Ahimoth, he found himself passive, disinterested. He was dead. He was beyond dead. He wasn’t a threat anymore. No point in wasting any more time and energy on him.
He leaned forward and picked up the whistle that rested against Ahimoth’s still chest. He easily snapped the string that tied it around his neck, and clutched tightly in his hand as he stood back up.
As he did so, he heard the familiar sound of rustling of twigs and fallen leaves. The distinct sound of scurrying of a certain large caterpillar monster that liked the hunt around the stairs to the second floor.
Annoying bastards, they were.
“Let’s go. Monsters are coming,” Rahas instructed to Shiki.
He then stepped away from Ahimoth’s battered corpse and didn’t grant the man a second glance. He instead walked over to Shiki, grabbed his arm and holstered it over his neck and shoulders to help the older man walk. Shiki’s gaze lingered on the bloodied corpse before he, too, turned away and didn’t look back. Even as the scurrying of monsters increased. Even when the monsters began to bicker and fight amongst themselves over a free meal.
There was no point in looking back.
The journey back to re-join with the others was done in silence, which Rahas was grateful for. Shiki no doubt had a lot he wanted to say, but either couldn’t find the exact words or he was more drained than he was letting on. The old man will no doubt pull him aside for a serious conversation at a later date, but it didn’t matter. Rahas held no regrets.
It simply had to be done.
Helping Shiki into the clearing where it all began, Rahas wasn’t surprised to realise that there were a couple more figures. Jhon, Tobyn, and of course Hamza. They must have been alerted when Tiffany and Kerri returned to town with Ghali.
The three newcomers were spread out in a clumsy circle, inspecting their surroundings for threats while Axel and Gerald were gathered around Simmons. Gerald had his arms around Simmons, practically cradling him against his chest while Axel remained crouched nearby, blood smearing the front of his armour and clothes.
Simmons appeared listless as he allowed Gerald to hold him.
After ensuring that Shiki could stand under his own weight, Rahas stepped from him and made his way over to Simmons. He crouched down in front of him, Gerald leaning back slightly in order to allow Simmons to tiredly lift his head to regard him.
“Here.” He raised his hand and unfurled his fingers, revealing the wooden whistle in the palm of his hand. He allowed Simmons a moment to take in the sight and register it in his mind. The very thing that caused him to endure “It”.
He then curled his hand tightly around the whistle, breaking it clean in half.
“It’s over now,” Rahas said as he allowed to shattered pieces of the whistle to fall from his hand and onto the grass. “You’re safe. Everyone is safe.”
He took the same hand to curl his fingers against the back of Simmons’ neck, pulling him forward so that their foreheads touched, and he looked him straight in the eyes. Eyes that were still tired, but glistening softly with unshed tears.
“No one is going to hurt you again. Not with me around. Alright?”
Simmons closed his eyes, a single tear slipping down his cheek. And he nodded his head.
… … … … …
Lynus stood on the landing of the hospital steps; his gaze directed toward Yggdrasil. Toward the road leading to the entrance of the labyrinth. Night had fallen, casting the sky into an inky blackness, allowing for the sparkling stars to shine brightly.
At his feet rested Farley, the blue-furred wolf quiet and still. His head rested upon his paws, releasing quiet, sullen whines periodically as he, too, stared out at the large tree on the horizon.
The fear, the torment he had felt earlier was not his own. And it had dissipated. A strange calm had fallen over him. He knew not of what happened, what was possibly still occurring in the labyrinth, but he knew that the danger had passed.
A time of recuperation was upon them. And it was his turn to be useful.
Footsteps behind him pulled Lynus from his vigil. He turned his head to the side, to glance over his shoulder. Although, he didn’t necessarily need to do so to know it was Darrell who made his way over to him.
“They back yet?” he asked simply.
Lynus turned his gaze back toward Yggdrasil and stood silently for a moment. Soon, the comfort of an all-too familiar aura touched his senses and he uttered a small sigh of relief at the knowledge of several more presences. “They’re on their way.”
“I suppose I need to get a couple of rooms ready?”
“Close to each other if possible.”
“Right.”
Lynus remained at that top landing as Darrell turned on his heel and walked back into the hospital. He stood silently; eyes trained on the long path before him. Sensing their presences was reassuring, but what he truly wanted was to lay his eyes upon them. He needed to see them.
And, he hoped, they’ll be relieved to see him, too.
From the corner of his eye, he was as Farley suddenly perked his head up, his ears straight and facing forward. A moment later, he was up on his feet. His tail gave a half wag, moving slowly.
Lynus smiled.
Finally, moving slowly but steadily along the path, a group of familiar figures. At the forefront was Axel. With Simmons slumped over his back, chin resting on the shoulder next to his head. A mere step behind them came Shiki being aided with Rahas. And behind them was Gerald, supported by Jhon and Hamza.
They bore injuries and he sensed a couple of stubborn curses. But, they were alive. There was no relief greater than that. Their injuries, their scars he could help. And with the safety of being together, they can heal.
As a few other medics and nurses exited the hospital, prompted by Farley’s excited barking, Lynus moved down the stairs and stood before Axel. He stopped in front of him, still carrying Simmons on his back and made no attempt to pass him off to someone else. Lynus framed Axel’s face with his hands and looked into his eyes. Axel returned his gaze with a soft look of his own.
Guilt. Worry. Concern. Relief.
So much had occurred in that labyrinth, didn’t it?
Lynus rubbed a thumb over Axel’s cheek. Silently promising him that they can talk when they find a quiet moment to themselves. Axel would tell him everything that happened. And Lynus will comfort him, should he need it.
“Take everyone inside,” Lynus instructed as he reluctantly stepped away from Axel. “I’ll be there shortly.”
As everyone moved inside the hospital, Lynus stood on the stairs with Rahas. He took a moment to simply take in the sight of him. His hair was pulled from his face, revealing two golden clear eyes. Though blood smeared his hands, his clothes, it…wasn’t his.
And he carried it willingly, without pride. No.
He…wished it didn’t have to come to that. But, sometimes, it was the only way to ensure the safety of others.
Lynus walked straight up to Rahas and looked into his eyes. Rahas returned his gaze. He didn’t look away, like he had done many times before. His gaze was unflinching, but not hostile with untold guilt.
He…
“The suffering is over,” Rahas said simply.
“And healing can finally begin,” Lynus finished. A small smile spread across his lips, but it held a tinge of sadness and guilt. Yet, pride, too.
Rahas had pushed past the guilt, the desire of revenge. Instead, his actions were that of necessity. He knew…he knew it was the only way. The only way to end the suffering. For Simmons. For Shiki and Gerald. And for Ghali.
But…he had more important roles to play.
“They still need you.”
Rahas didn’t answer immediately.
Lynus reached up and gently touched the side of Rahas’ face. “Do you really think Shiki will allow you to become some shadowy vigilante after all of this?”
That caused the corner of Rahas’ mouth to twitch into a half smile. A small one, but it held a genuine warmth. And relief.
“Let’s head inside,” Lynus urged. “Simmons will need comfort when he awakens.”
The Dark Guardian (Chapter 4) - Etrian Odyssey 4 Fanfiction
AN: It was oh-so tempting to unleash a bunch of fluffiness family goodness in this chapter, but I restrained myself. Those scenes can be for the book of oneshots. Best remain on track with this fic. I’m thinking five chapters with a short epilogue. Also long chapter, ahoy! Well, anyway, hope you enjoy reading!
Warning: A LOT of violence in this chapter. Proceed with caution.
Ao3 | Wattpad | FFNet | Inkitt
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Chapter 4:
Rahas crouched down in front of the fireplace, busying himself with lighting a fire as evening was fast approaching. Gerald had been released from hospital and sent home to rest. And to watch over Ghali.
Yet, the older gunner mustn’t have been listening to the medical instructions of taking it easy that Lynus had spouted at him. Instead, as soon as they got home, he set about creating a place for Ghali to sleep. He and Shiki agreed that, for the night at least, Ghali will sleep in their bed with Gerald, while Shiki slept on the couch with Rahas.
Simmons, of course, offered his bed to Rahas, but he declined. The guy himself had a rough night last night. It would be better for him to try to get a good night’s sleep, too.
Speaking of Simmons, he currently occupied the couch, busy entertaining a babbling Ghali.
Their introduction went as smoothly as everyone had expected. Lynus had introduced Ghali to him, and being the gentle guy he actually was, Simmons knelt down to his level. And introduced himself as Ghali new big brother.
That immediately put the kid’s anxiety at ease. And he latched on him nearly immediately.
Rahas had to admit that it was…cute. He thought he would be annoyed with the tooth-rotting cuteness. But he honestly found it, well, endearing.
With the kid kept busy, and Gerald busy himself getting the bed suitable for a young kid, Shiki had slipped out the back with Farley to gather more wood for the fire. And to rummage around the storage shed back there, silently searching for the clothes that Simmons had when he was a kid.
Even so, he had sent Tiffany and Kerri on a quick errand to buy some kiddie clothes for Ghali. At least pyjamas for the night. The clothes he had on him had…smears of his father’s blood all over them.
With the fire sparking to life, Rahas sat cross-legged on the floor and simply stared into the flames. Everything was moving rather quickly. Unfairly so, honestly. It felt to him that Gerald and Shiki hadn’t had time to properly mourn the brutal murder of an old friend and teammate. They certainly hadn’t been given time to fully comprehend that they had a dependent to take care of.
Though, maybe it was for the best that they didn’t have time to dwell on it?
Rahas had no clue of what to say. What to do. If anything. It was incredibly frustrating.
An unexpected noise caused Rahas to raise his head to listen.
Was that…a whistle…?
Shit!
Rahas snapped his head around in a flurry in Simmons’ direction, and watched as the blue-haired landsknecht’s usually bright eyes became dull and vacant. He was unnaturally still before his body jerked forward.
Where he snatched Ghali up off the couch.
Rahas felt his heart leap into his throat as Simmons wound his large arms around Ghali, holding him firmly against. The little blond was obvious to the potential danger he was in.
Simmons would never, ever hurt someone as small and fragile as Ghali. But “It”, that thing he turned into after the sound of a certain noise, just might.
He had to do something!
“Simmons!”
But before he could do anything, Simmons twitched and backed away from him sharply. With one arm wrapped around Ghali, he snared his sword with the other. He didn’t even look for it. He instinctively knew where it was.
And a split second after that, he was out the door.
Fuck! God damn, shit!
“Shiki! Gerald! Simmons in that trance again!”
That might not be the right words as he was acting differently than how he had been the other day. But from the thousand-yard stare and the unnatural movements, there was no other way to put it. It wasn’t Simmons that was in control.
It was “It”.
Gerald was the first out of his bedroom, staggering slightly because of his still tender injuries. He immediately searched for Ghali with his eyes and soon became panic-stricken when he couldn’t find him.
“Where’s Ghali?” He demanded, though didn’t wait for an answer as he was already out of the front door as Shiki stormed through the back door, having heard Rahas’ yell.
Not bothering to waste time or energy demanding what had happened, Shiki snatched up his katana set by the front door and followed Gerald out. And Rahas himself was hot on his heels.
As the trio followed Simmons through the gradually emptying afternoon streets, it soon dawned upon Rahas where Simmons was heading; into the labyrinth.
Skidding around a corner, nearly stumbling over his own feet in the attempt to keep up, his gaze fell upon a familiar redhead.
Axel had appeared from a side path, axe resting on his back and his attention turned toward the path leading into the labyrinth. He no doubt had seen either Gerald or Shiki and was wondering what the hell was going on.
“Hurry up and follow!” Rahas shouted at him as he sped past him.
“What the hell was going on?” Just as Rahas had predicted, but thankfully the redhead had asked that while sprinting after him.
“Long story. Simmons is in a trance. He has Ghali. And I think that Ahimoth bastard is involved.”
It was no coincidence. No other explanation. That bastard was responsible. He somehow knew of Simmons’…affliction.
Axel didn’t ask any more questions after that, causing Rahas to briefly wondered if he had some knowledge about “It” also. But he pushed that thought aside, instead concentrating on getting into the labyrinth.
The situation was not in their favour. Especially not if that bastard was involved. But what choice did they have? Both Ghali and Simmons were in danger.
Following the fleeing images of Shiki and Gerald in front of him, the two older men surprisingly nimble on their feet, they soon reached a small clearing in what Rahas estimated to be the far corner of the first floor.
There, stood in the centre of the clearing, was Simmons. With Ghali still in his arms. Alive and unharmed. And before them stood…Ahimoth.
Rahas skidded to a halt, next to Shiki and Gerald and gritted his teeth. He knew it. He just knew that bastard was responsible!
“Ahimoth!” Shiki snarled and unsheathed his blade violently. His voice was so filled with hatred that it honestly shocked Rahas for a moment. He had never heard the man utter anything with such rage before.
It wasn’t a surprise, however.
“Hello, Shiki. Long-time no see,” Ahimoth said, sadistically cheerily in response. “A ronin now, I see. What a career change! And Gerald, looking spritely for someone your age. I’m impressed!”
Such a patronizing asshole.
“Give Ghali back,” Gerald all but pleaded as he took a step forward. “He’s…he’s just a child.”
Ahimoth, however, smirked. He reached down into the collar of his cloak and revealed…a whistle.
Rahas felt a chill race down his spine as Ahimoth brought the whistle to his lips. And blew into it.
Immediately, Simmons staggered forward a step. And then another.
“Already attached to the kid, Gerald? I think I might keep the kid myself then,” Ahimoth jeered.
Gerald took another hasty step forward, only to land roughly on his injured leg and he abruptly crumbled to his knees, landing heavily on his hands. Shiki instinctively dropped down by his side, hand on his back to help him.
But Gerald frantically shook his head and tried to push himself to his feet himself. “No. Stop him. He’ll-”
Ghali suddenly let out a terrified cry, everyone immediately snapping their attention back to the small kid, expecting the worse. But Ghali was still sat in Simmons’ arms. He had his hands grasping at Simmons’ muscular shoulder, clutching onto him, so afraid.
“No! Bad man! Bad man hurt mummy and daddy!”
Simmons stilled suddenly, though his gaze remained vacant and distant. He then equally suddenly dropped down to one knee. And set Ghali down onto his feet. As he pulled his arm back, and with Ghali looking up at him with watery eyes, he…patted the small boy on the head.
His touch was…tender.
Ghali stared up at Simmons as he pushed himself back to his full height. He then turned and ran toward Gerald, whom of which had dropped to his own knees and held open his arms toward him. To which the boy immediately raced into, snuggling his face against Gerald’s chest as he wound his arms tightly around him.
Simmons…he was still in there. Somewhere.
Ahimoth was less than pleased, however. That sadistic smirk was replaced with a sneer of distain. “Rather unexpected,” he murmured quietly to himself. “Had it weakened?”
…Had what weakened?
Ahimoth quickly picked up a whistle from hanging around his neck again and blew sharply into it. A loud and piercing sound was immediately heard, so sharp that Rahas instinctively winced. That sound was similar to the one he heard when Simmons first…
Simmons became ridged for a second. Then, in a flurry of movement, unsheathed his blade and launched himself in the direction where Rahas stood with everyone else.
A hard shove from the redhead next to him pushed Rahas aside. He somehow managed to stay up on his feet, and he spun around in time to watch as two landsknechts clash – sword against axe.
Simmons’ movements were swift, brutal. He wasn’t holding back. Yet, Axel was able to counter each attack. Deflecting, hindering, pushing back – but never actually attacking. Was he unable to due to the volley of Simmons’ attacks? Or…unwilling to do so?
Shit, it didn’t matter. He was keeping him busy. That was enough.
“Gerald, get out of here!” Rahas ordered.
Gerald seemed to have entertained the same thought as he was already up on his own feet, arms wrapped securely around little Ghali. However, before he was able to turn and flee, an unstable war magic circle appeared right in front of him. And in a flash of light, he was down on his knees once more.
“Gerald!”
Shiki instinctively tried to make it to Gerald’s side, only for him, too, to endure a sudden magic circle. And, just like with Gerald, he dropped to the ground. While remaining upright on his knees, his body twitched violently. His movements were unnaturally sluggish as he stabbed his blade into the ground and leaned heavily against it.
“Shiki!”
“N…no,” Shiki murmured, peering over at Rahas through one eye. “Stay back. Protect Gerald.”
Rahas hesitated for a moment before he did a half turn and hurried to Gerald. He knelt down by his side, hand on his shoulder in an attempt to learn what was wrong. “What is it? What happened?”
Gerald rubbed hastily at his eyes, a subtly panicked expression on his face. “I…can’t see a thing. It’s completely black.”
Shit, a blindness curse.
That meant, Shiki…
“Oh, a blinding curse for Gerald and a paralyse curse for Shiki, hm?” Ahimoth commented idly, dismissively at first. But he soon chuckled menacingly. “The wonders of the Random Disease spell. Though, I would have enjoyed watching you hack and slash at yourself to remove a poison curse, Shiki.”
Shiki released a low hiss as he glared in Ahimoth’s direction. “How did you know about that?
A wicked smile spread across Ahimoth’s lips. “Oh? You already did that? Ah, maybe your arm, hm?”
What…?
Ahimoth suddenly and defy stepped to the side, mere seconds before a gunshot rang out. However, one of his dreadlocks exploded in a flurry of matted hair and drop to the ground at his feet. Far from annoyed or baffled, he smiled manically. He reached into his robes, pulled out a silver knife and with a oh-so casual flick of his wrist, threw it to his left.
Where it was promptly followed by a scream that was a mix of pain and surprise.
“Try aiming for the chest next time!” Ahimoth laughed.
Rahas whipped his head around toward the source of the noise. And was honestly surprised that it was Tiffany. In her right hand was her handgun, and a knife sticking clean through her wrist and forearm. She…had been the one to take that shot at him.
From the angle…was she aiming for his head? Or was it a warning shot?
Tiffany clenched her jaw in an attempt to hold back the tears as she grabbed the handle of the knife – and ripped it out of her arm. She attempted to stifle a scream of pain, but ultimately (and understandably) failed. Blood gushed out of the wound and she dropped the knife to clasp her hand around the injury.
As Tiffany tried to stifle the blood, a bristling and honestly angry Kerri slipped in front of her. Her robes bristled protective, the bell ringing around her neck. She appeared ready to unleash a curse or spell of her own, only to suddenly still.
What was she-?
Shit, right; war magi’s have the ability to dispel a curse or physical ailment onto something else. Usually aimed toward monsters, but this bastard would not hesitate to inflict another person’s curse onto human victims.
With another bristle of her robes, Kerri sunk back to stand by Tiffany’s side. And with one of the snaking tears of her tattered clothing, wrapped a make-shift bandage around the heavily bleeding injury to Tiffany’s wrist.
As Rahas began to wonder how to the two girls found them, he heard a low, mournful whine. He snapped his attention back to Gerald, only to find a certain blue-furred wolf by his side, tail between his legs and uttering low whines as he scurried in a skittish, unsure fashion around Gerald.
Farley obviously led the way.
With one arm still holding Ghali close, Gerald flailed out an arm and placed a hand on Farley’s head, momentarily stilling him. “Tiffany, Kerri; don’t fight him! Take Ghali and get out of here!”
He then unfurled his arm from around Ghali and settled him on his feet. With Tiffany still clutching her arm, she staggered toward them. No objections were uttered from the blonde-haired gunner. But little Ghali didn’t want to leave Gerald. Crying and reaching out to him with his tiny little arms as Gerald tried to push him toward the staggering blonde.
“It’ll be ok. Be a good boy and go with Tiffany.” It clearly hurt Gerald to have to push a needy child away from him. It hurt him so much when all he truly wanted to go was to hug the child. To comfort him.
Despite her bleeding hand, Tiffany knelt down and gathered Ghali into her arms. She held him tightly, her expression heartbreaking as Ghali continued to cry and reach out for Gerald.
Gerald then reached out to wrap an arm around Farley’s neck and pressed his forehead against his. “Lead them home.”
Farley released a low, mournful whine. He obviously knew what Gerald had asked of him. He obviously didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to leave him, Shiki, and Simmons. Yet, he had been given a purpose. A goal.
He licked Gerald’s face before he turned away from him, dutifully doing as instructed. Wordlessly, Tiffany pushed herself to her feet. And with her head down, blood splattering across the green grass, she ran. With Kerri by her side.
As their footsteps, and Ghali’s cries faded away, Gerald uttered a sigh and his shoulders dropped forward. In relief, perhaps. Or in defeat.
Gerald was…quite the gentle guy, huh?
He had already lost Shiki once; he would not be able to survive losing Shiki and Simmons. That…was one of the reasons he stayed, wasn’t it? If they left him, he’d…
He’d follow.
Rahas gritted his teeth. No. He couldn’t let that happen.
“It’s always so much more fun when they run,” Ahimoth purred once more.
Shiki stabbed his blade into the ground and with his body jolting and trembling randomly, he managed to push to his feet. “You. What did you do to my son?”
“I’m so glad you asked!” Ahimoth whirled around on Shiki, overly and mockingly dramatic. “I cursed him. Yup. Not just any curse, oh no. But one that took me a whole five minutes to inflict upon him.”
Five damn minutes? To think that child Simmons was forced to endure being under that man’s hold for that long…
“It’s akin to a fear spell, I suppose you could say. Whenever he hears a certain sound, even one similar to this whistle, will put him into a frenzied state where he will attack anything and everything. What a lovely little gift for dear ol’ Gerald and the residents of town to endure, hm?”
“You…” Gerald murmured; his voice low, almost breathless with shock. “You did it on purpose?”
“Of course I did! Did you think I left him alive by accident?” Ahimoth threw his head back in laughter. “Oh, no no no. I truly did that on purpose. I wanted you, dear ol’ Gerald, to stumble through the entirety of the murder scene in search of the brat.”
Gerald’s eyes widen as his breath hitched in his throat and he sat back on his heels. Virtually slumping to the ground in disbelief.
Rahas, himself, felt his blood burn with anger. That bastard…was unbelievable! Demented. Evil. To cause so much suffering and mayhem by himself? He needed to be stopped. For good.
“You…” Shiki growled, his whole body trembling ever so slightly. Before he snapped his head up, snared his blade, and lunged at Ahimoth. “You bastard!”
Ahimoth, however, just laughed as he raised his own sword and countered Shiki’s attack. “I’m not done explaining. Because, best of all, breaking the curse will cause the memories to return in a violent rush. And, well, it might just kill him~”
C-could it? Could a curse, a spell truly do that to someone?
Wait…Lynus was able to inspect auras. He was the leading expert in discovering and removing curses. Did he…know about Simmons’ curse? If Ahimoth was telling the truth, then Lynus would have figured it out on his own, right?
That ointment…
“So, what will you do?” Ahimoth suddenly asked, ripping Rahas from his thoughts. “The precious brat won’t stop until he either hears another whistle, or has killed everyone here. Of course, there is a third option. One that involves someone killing him first…”
No, that wasn’t an option!
Swiftly turning his attention back to the battling landsknechts, he watched as Axel planted a foot against Simmons’ stomach and pushed him back, causing the two to separate. He took that moment to re-establish a fighting stance, while Simmons unexpectedly stilled. Axel was rightly panting from exertion. Anyone would in his situation. But not Simmons. He showed no signs of tiring.
That had to be by design. Simmons pushing himself beyond his limits. That was the fourth option, wasn’t it? Simmons fighting himself to death…
God damn it!
Slowly, Simmons raised his sword, grasping it with two hands, prompting Axel to tense. He didn’t immediately move forward to attack him once more, however. He stood stock still for the longest time, prompting Axel eye his surroundings suspiciously. And for Ahimoth himself to arch a curious eyebrow.
Simmons suddenly loosened his grip on his weapon, twisted it around so that the sharp blade was angled directly toward his own stomach.
Rahas stopped breathing when Simmons’ tightened his grip around the handle and hilt once more.
As Simmons moved to stab himself, Axel lunged forward, dropping his axe as he did so. He reached Simmons just seconds before the blade was seem jutting out clean through Simmons’ body.
Blood seeped along the glistening blade.
Yet, it was Axel who wore a grimace on his face. It soon became apparent why and the realisation unexpectedly made Rahas start breathing again. In an act of sheer desperation, Axel had grabbed the sharp blade, angling it in such a way that the blade passed by Simmons’ side. Close enough to cut at his armour, but preventing more fatal injuries.
Preventing the sword from hurting Simmons.
Preventing Simmons from hurting himself.
Axel gritted his teeth as he unfurled one of his hands from the blade. He then curled it into a fist and delivered a sharp jab to the sword. And broke it into several pieces, snapping it clean at the hilt.
The sword…was completely useless now.
Axel staggered back a couple of steps, panting slightly as he held up his bloodied hands, which were trembling slightly. He wore his armour, but the blade was still so sharp it sliced through the metal and into Axel’s hands. He still had movements in his hands, with him flexing his fingers by curling and unfurling them. It appeared that the cuts were only flesh wounds.
Something Axel himself was relieved to realise.
He still ripped off his scarf, hastily tearing it into two pieces and wound them around his hands. All the while, Ahimoth stared at him, sadistically impressed.
“Again, very impressive!” Ahimoth congratulated, as he kicked Shiki in the stomach to push him back, momentarily winding him.
An expression of hatred and anger appeared on Axel’s face as he side-eyed the bastard. And his hatred only grew (as did Rahas’) when they both realised that Ahimoth had oh-so casually reinstated a paralysed curse on Shiki once more. This one more vicious than the first.
“But, you know; landsknechts aren’t any less dangerous without a weapon.” Ahimoth idly trailed a finger over the scar marring his left cheek, still grinning that wretched grin of his. “That bitch certainly wasn’t.”
So, Sandra managed to land a scarring blow, huh? That would explain the brutality of her death; his form of twisted, self-serving justice.
“Your eyes are just like hers,” Ahimoth continued, the sadistic glee in his eyes taking on a decidedly more crazed expression. “Oh, how I will have fun with you later. Alas, for now, I’ll leave you with the brat. Unless, of course, you’re willing to let him go murderous on everyone else here while you try to defeat me?”
Without giving Axel the chance to bite out some kind of response (likely a bitter and violent “Fuck you!”), Ahimoth picked up the whistle tied around his neck. And blew into it sharply.
Prompting Simmons to jerk forward, staggering into a brawling stance.
“For fuck’s sake!” Axel hissed as he ducked a punch and slipped around behind Simmons. Where his experience dealing with drunkards at the bar paid off; he grabbed Simmons by his arms, locked them behind his head, restraining him surprisingly efficiently.
Rahas would never admit it aloud, but he was glad for Axel’s presence and strength. Things would have gone a lot more…fatally if he wasn’t involved.
“I’ve got him. Do something about that asshole!” Axel barked.
Doing something about that asshole was obvious. But do what exactly?
“God damn it, Simmons!” Axel hissed as the blue-haired landsknecht twitched and convulsed under his grip. “Stop fighting yourself and instead focus your attention on freeing you own damn mind. I can handle whatever you throw at me; it’ll be karma for the times I’ve beaten you. Just focus on yourself for once!”
Simmons still for a moment, as if responding to Axel’s words. Before he suddenly, and violently pulled an arm from Axel’s grip, plunge his hand into the pocket of his pants, and pulled out a small glass bottle. It looked vaguely familiar to Rahas, but before he had the chance to ponder that thought further, Simmons tightened his grip on the bottle.
And smashed it against his forehead!
“Make it stop!” he screamed as blood and golden liquid seeped through his fingers and down his face. “I don’t want to hurt anyone!”
Simmons lurched forward unsteadily and out of Axel’s hold completely, where he then stilled before swaying. Axel instinctually stepped forward to catch him should he fall. And he did, straight into Axel’s arms and chest. The sudden weight must have startled Axel as they both fell to their knees, with Simmons’ arms around him and his face pressed against Axel’s chest.
Where he proceeded to cry.
“I never…I never wanted to…hurt anyone…”
Axel was clearly dumbfounded as he allowed Simmons to sob against his chest. His shock and surprise were something Rahas himself had felt; it was the realisation that the goofy, dim-witted Simmons was a lot more complex than first thought. That his carefree smiles hid untold pain.
He…knew more about himself and his surroundings then he led on.
“Tch.” Ahimoth made a sound of annoyance and displeasure. “I don’t know what the fuck was in that bottle, and I will admit that I am mildly frustrated. Nothing should have been able to interfere with my curses.”
He truly believed that, huh? Did that mean he hadn’t a clue about Lynus?
It had better stay that way.
A twisted, wicked smile soon returned to Ahimoth’s lips. “However, perhaps I should see this as a blessing, hm? That means I get to kill you all with my own hands…”
Rahas instinctively moved to stand in front of Gerald. Out of everyone involved, Ahimoth had paid Rahas little to no attention. He…didn’t see him as an interest. As a threat. Probably didn’t even know who the hell he was.
That was mildly insulting, though…it might be true. Shiki and Axel were both…stronger than he was. They were more of a threat, weren’t they?
Rahas was just a spectator.
God damn it…
Ahimoth’s eyes flickered over in Rahas’ direction, but looked clear past him. To where Gerald was, still suffering from a blindness curse. “Maybe I should start with Gerald. He’ll never see it coming, you could say.”
Before Ahimoth could do anything, though, he stepped swiftly to the side. Just as a flash of steel was seen. Shiki, while still enduring the effects of another paralysing curse, had managed to gather enough strength to unleash another attack, purposely drawing Ahimoth’s attention toward him.
“Oh, you want to fight me yourself, Shiki?” Ahimoth let out another haunting, violently sadistic laugh as he raised his sword. “You better win. Otherwise, well, I’m sure you can imagine what would happen. After all, I won’t stop. Only death itself will be able to stop me.”
…Death, huh?
Rahas thought back to Lynus. To his regret of having taken a life. No, forced to take a life. It was the only way. Evil, like the one that Taksony possessed, would not have been stopped any other way. Nothing would have convinced that old bastard to simply let go of all the power he possessed. All the fear he held over others.
Only death.
Yet, knowing all that…Lynus still felt regret.
He was…innocent. A healer. A pacifist. A carer. He shouldn’t have had to do something like that.
No one with a pure, innocent soul should have to do what someone else, someone capable, could do. Should do. Innocence. Evil. And the morally grey. That was what he was; not innocent, not evil. Someone who protected the innocent from the evil. The grey. Should justice fail, they were the ones who did the dirty work. So the hands of innocents wouldn’t be stained. So the hearts of innocents wouldn’t be burdened.
Just like those of legend written in that book.
Rahas reached down and picked up the carelessly discarded knife. He gripped it tightly in his right hand as he deftly raked a hand through his hair, pulling the white strains from his eyes.
He had made his decision. No going back.
Justice wasn’t moving fast enough. So, he had to.
The Dark Guardian (CtS Side Story) - Chapter 1 - Etrian Odyssey 2 Fanfiction
Summary: When the past comes back to haunt Simmons and his family in the form of a violent, psychopathic murderer, Rahas learns the truth of what it means to be a Dark Hunter. He will protect this little family, no matter what…
Pairings: The usual
Warnings: Violence, death, murder, an irredeemable antagonist. It won’t be gory with unnecessary descriptions of injuries and copious amounts of blood, but it will be dark. Far darker than other sagas, so if that troubles you in anyway, you are most welcome to skip this saga.
AN: I know I’m on hiatus; I couldn’t help myself. A short saga, only 5 or 6 chapters long. And I’ll get straight to the point of the story. Fluffy goodness that NEEDS to happen will happen in oneshots and such.
In other words; prepare for PAIN :’D So, enjoy~
Ao3 | Wattpad | FFNet | Inkitt
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Chapter 1:
The first floor of the labyrinth was the same as always; bright greenery, fresh air, chittering bugs and birds, and the occasional scurrying of hidden monsters.
Rahas supposed he should be grateful for the usual monotony, especially after recent events. The hex plague had largely been dealt with, with only a few reparations. But some of the mental scars still remained. Mostly the utterly uselessness many of the skilled and talented explorers felt during those times.
And, damn it, Rahas was one of them.
Trying hard not to allow his frustrations to show, Rahas turned to look over at the blue-haired landsknecht that had followed him into the labyrinth. Ugh, that sounded wrong as he had practically told the guy to follow.
Simmons turned his gaze away from staring at the foliage around them and looked over at Rahas. He wore his usual carefree expression as he tilted his head questioningly. “Are we going to train here?”
Yeah, might as well. Not like he had anything better to do.
A sharp, high-pitched noise caused Rahas to tilt his head to the side, instinctively listening. It was a sudden noise, not entirely out of place in the labyrinth with its grating bug noises and twittering birdsongs. And yet, it didn’t seem entirely natural.
It sounded like a whistle.
…Meh, probably another guild or something.
Rahas glanced over at Simmons, musing about whether he should ask him if he had heard that sound with him, only to abruptly pause. Because Simmons himself had suddenly frozen to the spot, his eyes, although not wide, stared at the ground. Completely still and silent.
It…was unlike him.
“Hey-”
The question died the second Simmons pivoted, leading with his right foot as he unsheathed his blade. And took a swing at him!
Rahas immediately leaned back, dodging the attack by the skin of his teeth. The fleeting thought of that blockhead was taking training too seriously today immediately disappeared when he found himself ducking and dodging several slashing attacks.
“Hey, what the hell!?”
Ok, so that wasn’t the first time someone swung a sword at him. Certainly not the first time someone pulled a weapon on him. But it was the first time Simmons did either of those things!
As Rahas dropped to the ground, forced into a rolling dodge, another thought flittered into his head; not only was the guy before him not acting like Simmons, he wasn’t attacking like him either.
The attacks were vicious, violent. Served to…kill? Talk about a one-eighty! And it all started after that bloody whistling sound.
Wait…
Hadn’t Simmons mentioned something about hearing noises before? About how…certain noises caused him to do…stuff? Come on, think!
‘It’. He called it ‘It’. A sound caused him to do ‘It’. Attack? Was that it? Attack with ruthless abandon? That had to be it!
Ok, but knowing the cause wasn’t going to do shit unless he can figure out a way to break him out of…‘It’.
Another high-pitched whistle cut through the air before Rahas had the chance to formulate a plan of his own. And Simmons immediately stopped his assault, the sword in his hands dropping to the ground heavily.
Instead of looking confused as to what had happened, a look of absolute horror appeared on Simmons’ face. Eyes wide, face pale. Pure horror. At what he had done. What he tried to do.
He…wasn’t in control. He wasn’t ‘present’, as it were. As if the ruthless assault wasn’t already proof of that!
Still crouched on the ground, Rahas stared back at Simmons. “H-hey-”
Simmons suddenly turned on his heel and fled. Away from him, but toward the entrance of the labyrinth. Practically fleeing in horror.
Rahas stared, dumbfounded, only able to watch him until he was out of sight. It was like…Simmons knew what had happened. But he wasn’t present, was he? He couldn’t have been. The Simmons that he knew, that everyone knew, wouldn’t just randomly attack someone.
…Don’t just stand there, dumbass, follow him!
Leaping to his feet, Rahas retraced Simmons’ path and quickly skid through the entrance. He mildly noted that the guard that usually stood by the door to aid rookies had their attention transfixed toward the city. Simmons must have barrelled in that direction.
But where could he have done after leaving the labyrinth? Damn, there were several places he could have snuck off to. Did he go home? Head to the forests located on the other side of the town? Rahas hoped he didn’t do anything…reckless.
As Rahas moved along the main path that led through the town and toward the labyrinth, his gaze fell upon a somewhat unexpectedly sight. After the so-called Hex Plague, Lynus had been forced into a state of rest and recovery. Dressed in his purple woollen poncho that Matron had made for him, he obviously wasn’t on his way to the hospital.
Regardless of where he was going or what he was doing, Rahas was glad to see him. His empathic abilities were just what he needed!
“Where’s Simmons?” Rahas asked the second he reached him.
Lynus jumped, clearly startled. “Wha-?”
“I’ll explain later,” Rahas cut him off abruptly. “Just tell me where he is.”
Lynus continued to look at him with an expression of surprise, yet there was a hint of curiosity in his eyes. He soon snapped out of his shock. “I’ve been on my way to meet him. He’s there.” He pointed to the south. “Outskirts of town.”
Rahas immediately ran off, probably startling Lynus further. Yet, probably not. Those empathic abilities of his where something that was well above Rahas’ intelligence. And probably knew a lot more about the situation than Rahas himself.
But none of that mattered.
After several minutes of running, Rahas reached an expanse of trees. Not unlike the ones found within the labyrinth, just a lot less dense. And far emptier. Other than the blue-haired figure sat at the base of a tree. Head down, knees pulled up toward his chest, and arms wrapped around his legs.
He looked so…vulnerable.
Ok, ok, he had to be careful. Yelling and making demands weren’t going to do shit. Just scare him even more. He needed comfort, not confrontation. But, shit, comfort wasn’t exactly his forte!
Maybe he should have dragged Lynus along with him.
No, no, that wouldn’t do any good. Lynus hadn’t a clue what happened. And Rahas was the one that Simmons had attacked under the influence of…something. He had to do it himself.
Somehow.
Ngh, ok, first thing’s first; don’t yell. Got it. Keep voice calm and soft. And show concern, but not fear. Not easy, but he’d try. The concerned part. He wasn’t scared of the guy. He was…he was Simmons, for crying out loud.
“Hey, are you ok?”
Rahas winced when Simmons tensed. Shit, did he not lower his voice enough? No, the guy was probably just startled. Surprised even. After all, Rahas wasn’t exactly known for being…comforting.
A touch was comforting, right? Lynus gently touched people all the time when he comforted them.
Slowly, as not to startled the obviously frightened landsknecht, Rahas walked over to him and crouched down in front of him. He raised his hands and rested them upon Simmons’ shoulders. Lightly, at first, before carefully adding pressure by resting his hands fully upon his shoulders. “Are you all right?”
Simmons didn’t move, let alone answer him verbally. Just kept his forehead on his knees and his arms wrapped around his legs. And Rahas figured that he would have to stay there, crouched in front of him with his hands on his shoulders until he finally chose to answer. If Simmons thought (or hoped) that Rahas would just get up and leave him, in such a vulnerable state no less, he had another thing coming.
Finally, after a drawn-out silence, Simmons shook his head.
Ok, alright. An answer. And an honest one. Good.
As Rahas mused about what he should say or do next, he took a moment to simply study the usually boisterous man in front of him. And felt a frown tug at his lips.
He…looked like what many of the hostages did, back in the day. Cowering. Scared. Unsure of what to do. Too afraid to move. But it was also…different. He wasn’t scared of those around him. Simmons was scared of himself.
And that was somehow worse.
“Was that ‘It’?” he asked, tightening his hands on Simmons’ shoulders. “Was that what happens when you hear a certain sound?”
Simmons didn’t move. Was he surprised that Rahas remembered? Or cared enough to remember? Or was he too ashamed to answer, still horrified by his own actions? In front of him, no less.
After a moment, Simmons finally nodded his head, still unwilling to pull his face away from his knees.
“You know I’m not scared of you, right?” Rahas asked, though he did not wait for a response. “If I was, I wouldn’t be here. I’m not that nice.”
Ok, so that was an awkward joke, but it was true. If he was scared of the guy, or hated him, he sure as hell would not be crouched in front of him trying to offer some awkward, cringe-worthy comfort.
But it seemed to have worked. Slowly, Simmons raised his head from his knees. His face was pale, though his eyes were bloodshot red. It was evident that he had been crying, and that fact stirred a sense of protectiveness within Rahas. His first instinct, his only instinct really, was to ask who or what was responsible and take care of it himself.
That wouldn’t work here, though. Unfortunately.
“That…happens every time I hear a sound,” Simmons quietly began to explain. “Like that one. A whistle. Everything turns…grey. Like a dream.”
“Do you remember what…happens?”
Simmons nodded his head as his gaze slowly drifted to the side. To stare listlessly, ashamedly at the ground. “I see what I’m doing. But I can’t stop it. I want to stop it. But…I’m not strong enough.”
No, that wasn’t right. There was more to it. Something that Simmons himself didn’t know.
“I’m scared of hurting someone.”
Rahas tightened his hands on Simmons’ shoulders. “I’ll make sure you don’t.” The words fell from his lips suddenly, surprising himself.
Yet Simmons continued to look dejectedly toward the grass, his eyes half-lidded. Was he…about to fall asleep?
“Besides, I now know that if Axel comes at me with an axe, I can at least dodge,” Rahas said as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. Was that a bit of comfort for Simmons? He didn’t know. He wasn’t used to…to this sort of thing, ok?!
That, however, brought a small grin to Simmons’ lips.
Before Rahas could say or do anything else, Shiki suddenly hurried into the clearing with them. He didn’t look frantic, but was obviously concerned as he focused his gaze onto his son.
Dutifully, Rahas took to his feet and stepped aside. He did all he could, so it was time for his father to comfort him. There were no doubt hundreds of questions racing through Shiki’s head, but he didn’t ask a single one of them.
“How are you feeling?” Shiki asked gently as he crouched in front of Simmons much like Rahas had.
“I have a headache,” Simmons murmured, his voice slightly slurred.
“That’s ok,” Shiki immediately soothed as he helped Simmons to his feet. “We’ll have Lynus over and he can fix you all up. Let’s get you home.”
Shiki slipped an arm around Simmons’ waist as he lifted Simmons’ arm around his neck and shoulders, aiding him as he slowly stumbled forward. It was pretty clear that he was suffering from more than a headache. Could his muscles also be affected? After all, some of his attacks were quick and brutal; a strained muscle or two wouldn’t be unexpected.
Knowing that he would likely have to explain what happened to have placed Simmons in such a state (and because he was feeling protective, he’d admit that), he followed the father-son duo as they slowly made their way back to town and through the streets. Shiki didn’t ask a single question during their journey and Simmons didn’t utter a word either.
Finally, after a few minutes, they reached their home. Rahas moved up the front steps to open the door, to allow Shiki to all but carry his son inside. In the living room stood Gerald, with Farley by his feet, likely having been instructed to stay home to prepare for Simmons’ return.
Lynus was definitely the one responsible.
Wordlessly, Gerald reached for Simmons and he helped Shiki lead the listless landsknecht to his room. Again, Rahas felt the need to follow, but held himself back. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest and dropped down to sit on the couch. He kinda did so in a huff, allowing for some of his frustration at his ineptitude to show.
Wolf Farley had no issues in following, though. The usually overly excited beast companion silently trotted behind the three men, tail still and ears folded back.
He could hear the quiet fussing of the two men towards Simmons, both speaking quietly as if not to bother or concern Simmons.
Finally, after a few minutes Shiki and Gerald walked out of Simmons’ room, leaving the door slightly ajar behind them. The two men soon turned their attentions toward Rahas, and he knew what they wanted.
So he told them what had happened, simply and to the point. He also made it clear that he knew that Simmons’ didn’t want to hurt him, never entertained the thought, and he sure as hell wasn’t afraid of him.
He was more afraid of Lynus’ disappointed parental stare than of Simmons’ swinging a sword.
Shiki frowned at Rahas’ explanation, clearly displeased while Gerald did little to hide his worry. Which indicated to Rahas that Gerald had also witnessed Simmons in such states before. Numerous times, no doubt.
“How long has this been going on?” Shiki asked.
Gerald sighed, his eyes flickering toward Simmons’ bedroom. “It was shortly after…what happened with Sandra. Derek says it’s likely trauma. Born from helplessness of the situation.”
That sounded plausible. And yet…
“It…has only really happened in the labyrinth. Not in town.” Gerald frowned. “Not yet.”
A soft knock at the door put a halt to any further conversations. After Shiki stated that the door was opened, Lynus stepped inside, still dressed in his comfortable purple poncho but with his medical bag also.
The mood shifted slightly as Lynus smiled reassuringly at the three of them before he quietly made his way toward Simmons’ room. He gave a soft knock at the door before he pushed it open, announcing his presence to Simmons.
Unable to help himself, Rahas ventured toward the room also. But he stayed outside, leaning his shoulder against the wall as he peered into the room. There was protectiveness in his actions, but it wasn’t because he was afraid that Simmons would do something to hurt Lynus. He wasn’t worried for either of them.
He just felt…protective.
Simmons laid haphazardly on his bed; one leg dangled over the side while he rested his forearm over his eyes. Farley was by his bedside, front paws on the mattress with his head resting on Simmons’ chest, whining softly as Simmons idly ran his fingers through his fur, scratching his ears in an attempt to ground himself.
He slowly rolled his head to the side. Looking toward Lynus as he fussed with his medical bag. “Are you scared of me?” Simmons suddenly asked, cutting through Lynus’ reassuring prattling.
Lynus immediately paused in his work and turned to give Simmons’ a wholly confused look. “Hm? Scared of you? Now, why would I be?”
Simmons’ didn’t reply and Lynus returned his attention to his bag, not showing an ounce of unease.
“Now, Dr Stiles scares me more,” Lynus said as he pulled out a couple of blue bottles from his bag and as he moved toward the bed, Farley dutifully, but reluctantly, slipped his head from Simmons. The wolf didn’t move far, however, choosing to lie on the floor as Lynus on the edge of Simmons’ bed. “And he’s not that scary to me. So, either I’m a lot bolder than my appearance reveals, or its proof that you are no threat at all.”
That brought a small smile to Simmons’ lips and he readily sat up in bed, drinking the medicine after Lynus instructed him to. As he dutifully drank the two bottles, Lynus rested his hand against Simmons’ forehead, relieving his pains further.
It was understandable that Lynus was just so…good at offering comfort. He naturally eased Simmons’ worries, as well as his ailments. It was understandable. It truly was. He did it so effortlessly, giving Simmons the comfort he so desperately needed. Comforting him in a way Rahas never could.
And that…frustrated him more than it had any right to do.
“Oh, yes, I have something for you,” Lynus suddenly announced as he pushed himself to his feet and quickly made his way back to his bag. After a short moment of fussing, he pulled out a clear glass bottle with a yellow, oily liquid inside.
As he moved to sit on the edge of Simmons’ bed again, he presented the bottle toward him. “You have many headaches, don’t you? And bad dreams? So, I made this for you. It’s an ointment of sorts. Whenever you get a headache, or wake up from bad dreams, put a drop of this ointment on your fingertip and rub it against your forehead scar, ok? It should help.”
Huh…so that was what Lynus had been working on in the seating room. During his recovery period, no less.
But, why the scar?
“Don’t be afraid to use it whenever you like,” Lynus continued. “I can easily make more, so keep that bottle with you always, ok?”
Simmons dutifully nodded his head. “Ok.”
“Good boy,” Lynus said as he ruffled Simmons’ hair slightly. “Now, you get some sleep.”
Some of the colour has returned to Simmons’ face and he even managed a real smile toward Lynus. Albeit a tired one, but a true smile nevertheless. “Thanks, Lynus,” he said as he settled himself down into bed once more.
Lynus granted the landsknecht a smile of his own. His usual gentle caring smile. “Of course. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
After reassuring himself that Simmons was indeed comfortable, Lynus picked up his bag and quietly exited the room.
As Lynus spent a moment reassuring Simmons’ two fathers, Rahas glanced over at Simmons’ bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, allowing him to see him on his side, eyes closed, hopefully sleeping. He then glanced back over to Lynus. Should he escort him back to inn? He didn’t exactly want to leave, but-
Lynus unexpectedly tapped the back of his hand against the centre of Rahas’ chest. “Stay. Simmons will feel better with you here.”
For a moment, Rahas wondered if he should deny Lynus’ suggestion. Bristle, like he usually did. Maybe even shout something stupid, like what was expected of him. What he was known for. It was his metaphoric armour.
But he didn’t have the energy. He also didn’t want Shiki to go all ‘dad’ on him again. “Fine.”
Lynus smiled. Not a bright, large smile. A soft one. Clearly relieved and pleased. Causing Rahas to briefly wonder if he has somehow read his thoughts. With his empathetic abilities, it wouldn’t be a surprise.
“I’ll be back to check on Simmons in a few hours,” Lynus went on to say as he headed for the front door. “I know he’s in good hands, but I’m just fussy.”
At least he was no longer denying his smothering tendencies.
As for Rahas? He might just have to indulge in his own protectiveness.
Also that Rahas Tangent QwQ that poor boy. I hope he can feel securely at home and like he belongs soon. He must be so lonely and depressed, I'm gonna cry *holds him gently in my hands* bby boy QwQ
Now, don’t you worry, Rahas will eventually find his way to Guild Cosmos, seeing them as family, of which he will be intensely protective of~
As thankful as Rahas is to Lynus and Hamza for having him part of the Guardians, his heart lies with Cosmos. It starts out as guilt because of his connection to a certain Taksony, he feels responsible to all that the little family of Shiki, Simmons, and Gerald have been through.
But as he grows closer to them (slowly because he’s still so new at this bonding thing), his guilt turns into protectiveness and then fondness. He knows their pain is not his fault, but he’s determined that they’ll never be hurt again. Ever.
And god help anyone who dares to hurt them again…
GHAAGSGAFSHS I THINK TIFFANY IS MY FAVORITE PART OF THAT!!!! I love themmmm! Plz I'm gonna cry they're so cute!
Okay, so what does Farley think of Lynus and Rahas (aka Shiki's other kiddos!)
And what does Chi-Hung think of Simmons?
Ahaha, they are~!
Farley ADORES the heck out of Lynus! Shiki keeps telling him to take it easy as Lynus is, what he says “smol and fragile”, so he can’t play as roughly with Lynus as he does with Simmons. Lynus is nice, however, and fixes his wounds and gives him headpats. He can’t help but greet him enthusiastically. Lynus has gotten a few bumps and bruises, which Farley immediately and apologetically licks.
Rahas is quiet. Silent, but always watching his pack. He’s not threat, though, and Rahas keeps telling him to stay with Simmons and Shiki whenever Farley tries to engage with him. He knows Rahas wants to be part of pack; he watches him and Simmons play! So why isn’t he join them? Doesn’t make sense to poor Farley.
Now, Chi-hung doesn’t mind Simmons’ presence. As far as he’s concerned, the boy is truly and completely harmless, despite his sword and axe, even when he tries to goad Axel into battling and sparring with him. He’s not a threat at all, so when Simmons comes around, he’s just this goofy and friendly boy. Though, he is also strange. Vulnerable in a way…
Heyy, how tall/short are your lovely folks? Who's the smallest and who's the tallest of their respective Guilds?
I’m abysmal at measuring someone’s height and everyone is either shorter or taller than me. And that’s as far as it goes! So for this I’ll list my boys from shortest to tallest. Feel free to add in your own height measurements XD
Guardian Guild: (including Untold2 boys)
Chi-hung (Kinda~), Lynus, Macerio, Lirit, Rahas, Magnus, Mahogany, Topaz, Cedric, Shen (Hrothgar), Tobyn, Axel, Jhon, Hamza, Zeryn
Cosmos Guild:
Farley, (Benedict :3), Kerri, Tiffany, Gerald, Simmons, Shiki
Phaedron Guild: (There are a LOT of tall boys in this guild~)
Zoran, Fletcher, (Baldur), Blayden, Miach, Mahalah, Kalan, Varuna, Nitish, (Ciaran), Bryce, Falkner, Durriken, Isiah, Telem, Roxbury, Achyuta, Zesiro, Xander, Logre, Biast
Angelward Guild: (I’ll do the ones that have been introduced so far~)
Fiorello (shhh), Nashoba, Faelen, (Ramus), Kamali, Caelem, Blayke, Drayce, Shashi, Ashton, Zohar
