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Юный русский мангака.

So I decided that my Jaegerlady and Rerich were friends. Dana gets news she didn’t want to ever hear.

Dana was in the canteen when the decoys they’d sent to throw Wulfenbach off their Lady’s trail came back. There’d been seven grinning, joking Jaegers leaving that morning. There were six now, and none of them were smiling.

As little warning bells of dread went off in her brain, she did a quick head count and stood up, setting her current project (a quick study of Miss Domnica doling out soup) aside. “Hoy! Vhere’s Rerich, vot’s dot lazy arse doink?”

They looked at each other for a moment. Finally, Bogdan shoved Karl forward; the unfortunate newly-elected spokesJaeger couldn’t look her in the eye. “…He…von Blitzengaard found him. He died a varrior’s death—killed six ov dose Sparkhunds before dey took him down. De bastard shot him, didn’t eefen let him get to his feet. Ve buried him.”

She sat down hard. Rerich had been over a century older than her, a fully-grown warrior when she’d taken the Brau. She thought he’d live forever. They’d sacked Pest together, stormed Frankfurt. She’d shoved him out of the path of spears and arrows; he’d bought her beer afterwards and didn’t try too hard to one-up her when she showed off her fresh scars. When she’d decided to leap on top of a Norwegian war drake and lost her grip, he’d caught her before she hit the spiky ravine below. He’d never once called her tiny. “…Rerich iz dead?”

Karl cleared his throat awkwardly. “Ah…yah. Hy know hyu two vere friends…”

Rerich was dead. She stared at her empty hands.

“Eet must haff been a hell ov a fight, dere vos blood effryvhere, Hy tink he ripped zum ov dem apart before he fell—“

Von Blitzengaard hadn’t even let him die on his feet like a Jaeger. She’d seen Sparkhunds, could picture their corpses in a ring around him as he struggled—he hadn’t even been allowed to stand. Had it been quick? Or had he been struck somewhere slow, a blow a man could linger with for days and hours before dying? Her mind’s eye was filled with snow and blood, von Blitzengaard laughing like the madboy he was over Rerich’s corpse.

She stood up abruptly, slipping her sketchbook into the satchel she carried. “Thenks for tellink me.”

“…Do hyu vant a drink, Hy haff zum vine Hy tink iz only a leetle vinegary…”

Dana shook her head sharply, already moving out the door. The training rooms would be mostly empty this time of night; good. She knew she’d need to be better than she’d ever been.

Martellus von Blitzengaard was going to die.

#girl genius #dana #rerich #paladin writes stuff