Inks
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Word Count [ 7008 ]
Red (Inks)
Keydis (swaswj)
Red (Inks)
Keydis (swaswj)
Hastam et Iecit
The day was hot, sunny, and thick with clouds, and Red woke feeling better than she had in months. The sunlight filtering through the glass of the inn window was pleasantly warm where it fell across her face, and awareness came to her in easy stages. She could barely remember the last time she’d had a full night’s rest; it felt good.
The redhead uncoiled herself and stretched until her muscles were trembling at the tension, then relaxed and sat up. Her sheets pooled at her waist, baring sun-kissed shoulders and the flat of her stomach to the bright morning sunlight. She blinked bleary eyes at the fresh sunlight pouring into her room. It couldn’t be too late – she only ever slept past midday if she’d gotten blackout drunk the night before – but it was at least late enough that the sun was out in full. It fell in beams across her room’s sparse accommodations – a simple writing desk, stool, and single-person bed tucked into one corner. A heavy wooden chest sat at the foot of the bed, and it currently housed most of Red’s traveling gear.
Red ran a hand through her hair, now in a bushy, disarrayed mess. The time didn’t really matter, did it? As far as she knew, there was no rush at the moment; it was a welcome change from the chaotic mess she’d made of the last few months. Her mood hadn’t been this good since – well, since before Terminus, at the very least – and the reprieve from being tired, dirty, and pissed off was more than welcome. Untangling herself from the mess she’d made of her sheets, Red planted her feet on the floor – warm where the sunlight lay and cool everywhere else – and stood.
...Wonder what she’s up to?
The thought blindsided her, and Red frowned at herself, halfway through another full-body stretch. She lowered her arms slowly, the comfortable lethargy slipping away.
Don’t, she told herself sharply. Don’t.
Like that would actually help.
Red moved about the small room, collecting her clothes and dressing while her thoughts drifted.
If nothing else, the desert caravan had made Red realize that she didn’t know Keydis. Not at all. She had little to no damn reason to be following the bounty huntress (and her partner...and that weird, tailed vagabond) at this point, beyond...well, beyond not knowing what else to do with herself.
Red jammed her feet into her boots and stamped them into place, then planted her ass back on the bed to lace them up properly. There’s an obvious solution to not knowing shit-all about her.
The thought made her stomach twist unpleasantly; so far, every interaction she’d had with Lysistrata had started or ended with a fistfight. How the hell was she even supposed to approach the woman on a friendly basis?
Fuck it, Red thought. She was already following the chick, what else did she have to lose?
.
Face freshly-scrubbed with the salt water supplied via rudimentary pump system in the inn’s common bathhouse, and breath still minty from the herbal poultice she kept in her pack, Red emerged from the inn to a faceful of sunlight. A faint smile graced her features for a moment, then she set off – coat slung over one shoulder, Sinistra and Dextera at home in their holsters on either hip. She circled the inn and struck off along a hard-packed dirt path which wound its way up a rather steep incline. As she hiked her way up, Red could hear the distant sound of waves and the various careening shoreline birds calling out to one another. As far as cities went, this one wasn’t half-bad.
The climate was probably a big part of it. The dry heat of Aridus’s deserts may have sapped the vitality from her new traveling companions, but Red had been born in a place not unlike this (sans the waterline). The sun was a pleasant heat against her skin, dark and well-freckled from the trek through the desert to arrive in Flumen Petram.
Red reached the top of the path with a slight sheen of sweat already beginning to lick at the small of her back. At the hilltop, packed dirt gave way to hardy grass and a solitary crooked tree, its trunk leaning out over empty space and its shivering leaves shading the path below. Other than herself, only one other person occupied the hilltop. They weren’t facing Red, but she recognized the woman immediately. It seemed like all Red ever saw was her back -- of course she recognized it.
For a moment, Red hesitated.
“Didn’t know ya used polearms,” she called out after a beat – better to say something now, before Lysistrata turned around and thought she was some Bell-damned weirdo.
Keydis looked over and then looked down at the spear in her hands. "I don't usually," she replied, a wry grin appearing. The brunette was lightly dressed, wearing baggy grey pants and a sleeveless green undershirt. Her hair was spiked up in its familiar style, bangs dyed red, and sunlight glinted off of a silver clasp high on one ear.
A black silk longcoat was laid over a nearby rock, her double belts and sword resting atop it. A pair of soft-soled boots rested nearby. A second polearm was leaned against the tree, this one a halberd.
Keydis had gained a little color over their journey, but was still noticeably paler than any of the residents. Already, her skin was sheened in sweat. With a thoughtful hum, the brunette did one more series of flashing movements with the spear. Though not very tall or broad, Keydis still cut an imposing figure with her tightly muscled figure, especially in the arms, cut and shaped through relentless training and long hours swinging a smithing hammer.
Relaxing, Keydis walked over to Red, enjoying the sea breeze that swept in from the east. It helped cut the persistent heat, though it also meant increased humidity. "The first weapon I was properly trained on was the spear. I had been swinging swords around for years, trying to teach myself, but when I found someone willing to train me, they suggested a spear, said it was a more suitable weapon for a guard." With a grin, the brunette lightly tossed the weapon to Red, snickering at the expression on her face. "Ever used one before?" she asked.
Rather than wait for an answer, Keydis grabbed the halberd from over by the tree. It was only slightly heavier than the spear. The weapons were relatively cheap, bought from a merchant. She was so used to using weapons she had crafted herself that it felt odd to be wielding something so loose and shoddy. The wood felt inconsistent, strong in areas and weak in others. The spear and axe blade both felt poorly attached, wobbling at times.
"I was talking to Annora about that, and it reminded me that I hadn't used a polearm in ages. Wondered if I still could."
“Annora,” Red said, quietly. “Right. ...Well,” she continued, louder, “however shitty you are or aren’t, not sure I’m gonna be much use as a sparring partner.”
A wry grin of her own threatened at the edges of her expression as she hefted the spear she’d caught. “That is to say, no, I’ve never used one before. Not that I’m unwilling to give it a go. Jab with the pointy part, whack with the stick-part, how hard can it be?” she deadpanned.
Red gave Keydis a head-to-toe once over, and opened her mouth to ask if she should be taking off her own boots for this. Instead, her eyes shot back up to the crook of the other woman’s elbows, and what came out was, “’Quila’s ass, what happened to your arms?”
Keydis looked down at her arms thoughtfully. Violet-hued metal started at her elbows and reached a little more than a third of the way down her forearm. Once, it had been smooth and uniform but as it moved further down, it became irregular, scaly in places, jagged in others. Where it met with the metal, her skin was visibly red and irritated. Like little vines or bolts of lightning, scars sprouted from beneath the metal and climbed to her wrists, growing fainter by the day but still painfully vivid.
"I'm a vistra," she explained simply, as if that said it all. "Didn't you know?"
The halberd in her hand whirled in a slow circle around her as she tested its weight and balance. "And don't worry, I'm not going to spar with you. I gave you enough bruises last time." Keydis winked with a wry grin. "You're welcome to join in or watch, whatever you want."
“Wait, hang on. A vistra?” Red blurted. As Keydis tested her halberd, Red eyed the sheen of violet metal and the lines of scars down the woman’s arms with renewed surprise. She lowered her arms, the weapon in her hands all but forgotten. “Like...vistra vistra?” the redhead stared askance at Keydis, something half-incredulous, half-defensive in her eyes. “You’re not...fuckin’ with me, are you?” she asked, uneasy. “I thought vistra were...uh...”
What did she think vistra were? Besides ‘bad’? All Red really had was secondhand information – the widespread rumors of deadly vistra in the wilds, news of bounty hunters found dead or gone missing after venturing out after trying their luck on one of the parasitic creatures.
“Monsters?” said Red, dragging out the word. “Ya know, fangs, claws? Er, wings, maybe? Horns?” she tried. “Corrupted-lookin’ things.”
With a strained look, Keydis huffed and propped her polearm up on her shoulder. "Flattery will get you everywhere," she remarked drily. "Yeah. A vistra vistra, a corrupted soul, a monster..! What of it? Going to do something about it?"
The brunette tried to bite back her sudden anger, but she felt somehow betrayed that Red, of all people, reacted like a frightened child. "Been this way since you've known me. Guess you're just lucky you missed out on my horrendous killing sprees. Need to bathe in blood once per full moon, you know."
Red blinked, taken aback for a moment, then scowled.
“I didn’t say any of that,” she snapped, her own temper spiking. “I said I don’t know what a bloody vistra is, ya don’t gotta...” Red ground whatever she’d been about to say to dust between her teeth. Her hands tightened on the spear’s haft. Why do we always...?!
Red took a breath, and exhaled. “Look,” she tried again, her voice measured. “Sorry. I wasn’t tryin’ to suggest you’re some sorta monster, I was sayin’ that’s the only sorta story I’ve heard about vistras. I don’t know what a vistra is, really. I mean, are you...”
Red grimaced.
“Ya know, alright?” she finished stiffly, embarrassment coloring her cheeks. “It’s not, like, killing you or anything, is it?”
Caught off-guard, Keydis' sarcastic retort died on her lips. She paused, lifting an arm up in front of herself, tracing the scars with her eyes. In her mind's eye, she was seeing the Desert Skull again, seeing the two idiots at the bar in Concha Litus.
I am what you will become.
"Maybe," she finally said, with a shrug. "But I'll kill it before that happens."
“Uh, it?” Red stared, somewhat lost.
Irritably, Keydis grumbled. "You really don't know shit about vistras, do you?" She let the halberd drop to the ground and then paced over to grab her sword and sit on the rock. How much was she going to tell? How much did she need to tell?
"Caeancora," she finally said, looking up and meeting Red's eyes. "That's its name. But it's also my name now. A vistra's just the host of some twisted-ass parasite that you can't get rid of until you die. The scars... I got them when I killed the original vistra." The details to that, she wasn't ready to share, yet. "When I killed it, the parasite jumped to me. At first, it was just a thin band around each elbow, but it's spreading. I don't know if this shit can think or plan or what, but it's part of me and it wants to take over the whole thing. It wants to turn me completely into a monster, just like the one I killed... except stronger."
A wry grin spread and Keydis slipped her hand into the grip of her sword. Suddenly, she sounded a lot more like her cocksure self again. "I don't intend to make that easy. I beat the real thing, why the fuck should I worry about the piddly remnant that can't accept its time is over. But hey, if it ever reaches that point, I'll make sure this thing goes down with me."
Keydis hadn’t been wrong. As much as it pained her to realize it, Red didn’t know much about vistras at all. Vistras were actually just some evil parasites’ hosts? Parasites that could jump bodies, apparently? And one had jumped to Lysistrata when she’d killed its previous host? And it was trying to turn her into one of the creatures Red had read about on bounty boards across Araevis?
Red hadn’t been awake long enough for this shit.
“Merda,” Red said. She shifted the spear to one hand and rubbed at the back of her neck. She felt every inch the sheltered noble’s daughter, oblivious to the world, at the moment. It was unpleasant. “Well,” she started, haltingly, “look. I don’t really know what I’m talkin’ about, but...” She stopped. Scowled at the beautiful vista spread out beyond the hilltop. “Ya know. You don’t seem like any sort of monster to me. So, uh, don’t talk so easily about dying, or letting some parasite kill you, or take you over, or whatever.”
A salty breeze kicked the hair back from Red’s face and sent the tree leaves dancing. She looked down at the spear in her hand like she’d forgotten it was there. “Anyway,” she said. “Weren’t you showin’ off yer jabbin’ techniques?”
For a moment, Keydis remained silent, as if lost in thought. Then she stood up and laid her sheathed sword back down. "Actually, I was thinking you could show me your jabbing techniques." The brunette laughed once and quickly waved off the redhead's protests. "No, no, I know you don't know how to use a spear, but you know how to throw a punch, so it ain't like you don't know the basics of fighty hurty time.
"Go on. Take a stab at it. See how it feels to swing it." Keydis was watching curiously, wondering whether Red would have any natural talent for the weapon. She also thought that maybe showing someone else the basics might help her remember them herself.
Red frowned, narrow-eyed, at Keydis. “Fine,” she said with a sigh, as though she were doing Keydis a monumental favor.
The redhead hefted the spear. Stupid, long, awkward jabby weapon, she thought, uncharitably. She tentatively gripped the spear how she thought she’d seen Keydis doing it, and – Her head whipped around, fixing Keydis with a glare. “Don’t bloody laugh,” she warned.
“...Don’t see how the hell this is anything like throwing a punch...” she added in an undertone.
Red sighed, again, and flexed her fingers around the spear’s haft. She widened her stance and offered Keydis a few perfunctory jabs and swings before shaking her head. “I really don’t know what yer looking for,” she drawled. “I only ever trained in unarmed fighting and, ya know,” she gestured to the guns at her hips, “...shootin’ shit.”
"Maybe I just want to watch you," Keydis teased as she walked over. She handed her halberd over to Red and then took up a simple fighting stance. "Ha, hyah, ha, ha!" The brunette punched wildly at the air, limp wrists, hips straight, feet flat. "Basics, right?" she remarked, winking at Red as she adjusted her footing, cocked her hips back, and then snapped forward with one solid, proper punch. "Ha!"
Taking her halberd back, Keydis walked around in front of Red and took a few steps backward. "It's not just in the arms, you know." She wobbled the polearm up and down in both hands. "Even something silly like this..." Holding her arms out in front of her, Keydis began spinning the halberd in front of her. "... is much more effective when you use your legs, your hips, your shoulders." She took one step back, moving her shoulder forward. The spinning weapon curled in toward her left side and then in a blur of movement Keydis whirled it behind her back, bringing it back around the front, dizzyingly fast. She didn't stop, spinning the weapon faster than before, rolling her shoulders with it, until suddenly she planted the butt of the polearm into the dirt, kicking up a small spray of sand.
"You know how to throw punches, pretty damn good ones. Same principles apply. You swing your arms forward, yeah you're going to poke something." Keydis show a simple forward thrust. "But, you know, if you commit to it, roll your hips into it..." She demonstrated. To the untrained eye, the difference was probably not that remarkable, but to anyone who had plenty of experience in a head-on fight, it was like the difference between a bruise and a broken bone. "That's the shit people need to be afraid of."
“Yeah,” Red replied, considering the spear in her hands. “But...”
The redhead tucked her bangs back on one side and adjusted her grip again. As Keydis had demonstrated, Red positioned her hands a reasonable distance apart – granting better control over the weapon’s movements. She planted her feet, flexed her fingers, then surged forward. “Hah!”
The heavy, powerful thrust extended her arms and one of her legs, and as she drew back into a relaxed stance, Red shook her head, “When I commit to a punch, I know how to adjust dependin’ on what my opponent’s going to do. With this,” she gave her spear a shake, “I overextend and you could just slap the silly thing outta my hands.”
Red shifted the spear to one hand and scratched at her chin. Thoughtful, she added, “If you’re wanting to keep doing this, let me set my guns somewhere. They’re a bit in the way.” Her eyes tracked down to Keydis’s feet, toes bare in the sandy dirt and grass. She met Key’s eyes (a dazzling shade of violet in the sunlight) with a wry smile. “...Dunno about taking my boots off, though.”
"Whatever stokes your forge," Keydis replied with a short laugh. Taking up her halberd, she started talking while Red was doing her thing. "First off, it's not as easy as you think to get a spear knocked from your hands. Yeah, someone might knock it to the side, but it's still in your hands. You're right that it's a thing to worry about, though, 'cause once someone is past the pointy bit, you're at a disadvantage.
"It's hard to explain how you get around that. I think part of it is just knowing your weapon and how to use it. But... you have to remember the pointy bit is the most dangerous, but the rest of it is still a weapon." Keydis smirked and pointed the butt-end of her halberd toward Red. "I mean, this is just a blunt piece of wood, but I was still able to rip up the ground with it a few seconds ago."
Next Keydis held her left arm out, fingers circled around the haft of the polearm. With her right, she casually slid the polearm further ahead and further back. "Also, you have to learn how to change your range on a moment's notice. Unlike throwing a punch or swinging your average sword, you can choke up on polearms to change what range you're fighting at on the fly. Shorter, longer." She demonstrated multiple times.
Then with a shrug, she explained, "You know, they taught me that years ago, but I don't think I really got it then. So if it doesn't make sense now, don't sweat it. 'Specially if you're just humoring me."
With a thoughtful hum, Keydis suddenly asked, "You ever been on a rowboat? Or seen people rowing?"
“Er,” Red straightened from setting her gun belt off to one side, near the base of the hilltop’s lone tree, and turned to eye Keydis. Her hips felt light without the weight of her guns – strange, how quickly she’d gotten used to them. “Yeah?”
The redhead narrowed her eyes. “...Next you’re gonna tell me spear-fighting is just like rowin’ a boat,” she said, not sure if she was joking.
Keydis snorted. "Not likely. Look." She held her polearm out straight, and left hand forward. With her right, she began to move it side to side, then up and down. "My left hand's not moving. It's there to hold the weapon in place, like the groove for the oars. You aim with the other hand. And thrust with it."
After a moment's thought, the brunette shrugged and clarified, "I mean, it's not completely stiff. You do move your leading hand a lot, but it's good to picture it as... the pivot? Otherwise you may as well just be chopping with an axe."
Taking up the spear again, Red imitated Keydis’s movements – using her left hand as a pivot and her right to aim and adjust. “Hm,” she said, a note of thoughtfulness in her voice. She gave the spear an experimental thrust. “That, uh...actually makes sense,” she continued, surprised.
After a pause, she grinned sheepishly at Keydis. “No offense. I’ve just, uh, never given this sort of thing any thought. It’s all guns and punches with me.” The redhead straightened, scratching at the back of her neck. “You’re not a bad teacher, actually. So, uh, what do ya do if someone with a sword does take a swing at you? Is it all duckin’ and dodgin’ if they get in close?” She eyed the haft of the spear she was holding. “Can’t really block with this thing, can ya?”
Keydis looked down at the weapon in her hands, seeming perplexed for a moment. She scrunched her face up in concentration, even. Then, her eyes widened again and her confident smirk returned. Without a word, Keydis held the polearm up and met Red's eyes.
Then she pulled down with her right hand, bringing the head of the halberd down just above her pivot hand, shortening it down to a sword's range.
"A spear haft, even made of wood, can block some sword strikes. Angle it right so that the blade doesn't dig in, and even better. A cheap piece of junk like these ones won't last long, though. You can bet if I made my own spear, I'd be using a stronger wood and might even reinforce it with a metal core. Making weapons makes too damn long to be letting them break so easily!" Keydis continued playing with the polearm as she was talking, practicing some swings while adjusting the range back and forth. It felt like she was talking to herself as much as to Red. "But if you don't have the reaction speed of a slug, you can adjust like this to deal with fuckers getting in close, and then..."
Keydis did a mock slash at an opponent right in front of her, but even in the midst of the motion, she was dancing backward, kicking up sand and adjusting her grip in the same motion. In seconds, she had separated from her imaginary enemy and had the halberd extended to a proper polearm's range, giving her the theoretical advantage against a sword user.
Red watched Keydis go through her motions, expression that of someone trying not to seem as interested as they were. Something in Key’s words – in the pauses she took to think, in her hands-on illustrations – told Red that Keydis was explaining everything to herself as much as Red. Made sense, if she hadn’t used one in a while. For a moment, Red thought back to her childhood – dragging Maris out into the yard to swing sticks at each other whenever father was away.
She chewed her lip, thinking for a moment. “I suppose so,” she agreed. Flexing her fingers around the spear again, she added, “Still feels like it’d be more, uh, tactical to have the haft be metal too – or, like you said, I guess, give it some sorta reinforced core.
“Not that I’d know,” she tacked on, her tone turning wry. “I can dismantle guns and put ‘em back together blindfolded – literally – but I’m not really one for smithing anything that doesn’t go ‘bang’. If I used one’a these, I’d probably stick to dodging, anyway. ...And that’s a big ‘if’. I can’t draw my guns if my hands are full of spear,” she said.
"A metal shaft has its disadvantages," Keydis explained. She lowered the tip of her halberd to the ground and then pressed down on the pole, letting the shaft bend slightly. "Flexibility is one. You don't want a polearm to be too flexible because that slows you down. It might be a half a second, but that can be too much. You do want a little flexibility, though, because it helps when you clash weapons or need to slip past something. Flexibility also makes it less brittle."
She planted the butt in the ground again. "Ideal is hard wood, air dried, metal core and maybe metal siding. Having most of the haft as wood reduces the weight and adds flexibility. Air drying takes forever but it's less brittle than drying by a fire -- I got that lecture when I kept the first haft for Annora's axe too close to the forge." Keydis looked at Red curiously. "Maybe you could build a gun into a spear?" She laughed and then cocked her head to one side. "What's your story anyway? I mean, I get that Terminus was too cold for you, but what'd you go up there for in the first place?"
“My story?” Red repeated, a little taken back by the question. Her eyes shifted, down to the spear in her hands, then up – out to the view from the hilltop. From here, she could make out the clusters of flat-roofed or slate-topped houses that cluttered the narrow, hard-packed roads of the shoreline. Laundry strung out on clotheslines and drying fishing nets were set up on many of the rooftops, billowing lazily in the wind. Red thought a moment, then snorted. “Honestly? It’s not much of a story. I’d just finished a contract guarding this merchant -- Barbus, that’s his name – and his cargo on their way in to Avelyn’s port. But apparently he was behind schedule or some shit, and had some sort of business deal set up, which was supposed to go down the night before that big Nocte Nil thing. Said he’d pay double the usual escort fee if I saw him the rest of the way to Terminus and double-timed it. I was hurtin’ for the exa, so of course I agreed.”
Red’s expression soured, somewhat. “He got stiffed, or fucked up the deal, whatever – so I got stiffed, which is why I went hunting after bounties.” She caught Key’s eyes, eyebrows lifted pointedly. “Your bounty.” She waved one hand as if to say ‘you know the rest.’
Unsatisfied, Keydis leaned forward and raised one bushy eyebrow. "What about before that? You're a guard for hire, but you're not that much younger than me. How'd you get to that point? I mean, I know why I started down the road for bounty hunting." She shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal. "I spent years aiming to become a city guard like my uncle, but when they wouldn't let me in, I had to turn those skills to something else.
"So, what's the story? A warped hunt for revenge? Escaping a fucked up relationship? Just always wanted to be a hero that takes down the evil vistra monsters?" In spite of her earlier discomfort, the last was said with a laugh. "Come on, spill it."
“It’s, uh, not much of a story.” Red looked down at the sand and grass at her feet and scratched at her chin while she thought. “Since I can remember, I wanted to see the world. Go out. Explore. Fight monsters and sleep at a different inn every night and – just –” she waved a hand, gesturing at the horizon, “all that, right? I used to talk about it with my brother. Ah.” Red paused, then smiled – something softer than her usual smirks and wry grins. “Right, I haven’t mentioned him before, have I? Maris, he’s, uh... Imagine me, but paler. And scrawnier. And with no scars. And as a dude. We’re twins.
“Anyways,” she hurried on after a moment, “I always thought I was gonna be a sword-swinging adventurer. Maris is more into the magic shite – especially Castus stuff. He always used to heal up the little nicks and scratches I got. Only problem is...uh, was, our father.” Red’s frown returned, then deepened, as her reminiscing soured. “He’s got it in his head that having tits means I’m supposed to become a demure priestess or something – bow my head, speak when spoken to, marry off to some ass-faced rich boy because he’s got some important last name. Also got it in his head that Maris should be the one out and about, making good of our name, before gettin’ married off to some ass-faced rich chick. Considerin’ our mother’sa trophy wife, she’s been about as involved in our lives as any of dad’s business partners.”
Red realized her grip had gone tight on the spear haft. She laughed at herself, relaxing her fingers and offering Keydis a sheepish grin. “Anyway, I wasn’t having any of that shit so I ran off in the middle of the night. I uh...” She hesitated, then shrugged. Admitted, “Maris and I write each other, sometimes, but I gotta consider that dear old dad might be interceptin’ letters, so I have to leave out locations and stuff. So, basically, aside from a bunch of family drama, I’m just a merc because I don’t really feel like settlin’ down.”
In certain ways, Keydis found herself a little envious of the story, wondering what it would have been like if she'd had a sibling or had opportunities to fight with her parents. At the same time, though, Red's frustration with her dad seemed to mirror her own with Havital. "So does that mean you're secretly a rich girl? Some kind of princess?" she teased. Those mentions of important family names and rich boys hadn't gone completely unnoticed. "Maybe you should shack up with some guy the way your dad wants to, then use his money to travel the world in a little more style." She winked so that the redhead wouldn't think she was serious.
Keydis rested her halberd across her shoulders. "I can't imagine your bro, to be straight with you. Imagine you, but not at all like you? Can't do it. You're going to have to figure out a way for us to meet in person one of these days, otherwise I'm just going to picture you with a goatee, a long pointy one that curls at the tip."
With a sigh, though, the brunette finally got serious for a moment. "Sucks that you had to deal with that. Glad your bro supports you, at least. I just had myself as far as that goes, up until recently." To avoid shifting the topic to herself, she lifted an eyebrow. "How'd you go from swinging swords to packing gunpowder?"
“Oh, uh. That’s.” Still half-grinning from the mental imagine of Maris with any sort of facial hair – much less a long, curling goatee – Red looked away again, warmth blooming on her cheeks. “After a bit, father kept a close eye on what I – we – were getting up to. Or had servants do it, more like. The whole swingin’ swords idea kinda became difficult, but one of father’s, uh, kindlier friends was big into hunting.
“The nobleman sorta hunting,” Red clarified with a scowl. “You know, giant, loud hunting parties or useless posh gatherings where everyone sits on their arses sipping wine and occasionally shootin’ at targets. Anyway, he was willin’ to teach me some marksmanship.” The woman tilted her head, thoughtful. “He was kind of a prick, but he was a great shot. Still is, I guess. I don’t think he died or anything. Anyway, I learned how to shoot what I was aiming at and how to keep my guns from shittin’ out from him, and as long as I was actin’ ladylike,” Red’s lip curled around the word in a sneer, “about it, father let it be.
“The unarmed fighting mostly came from an asshole I met maybe five months after leaving. Tried to draw on this bastard little enlil,” Red left out the fact that she’d been drunk at the time, “but he got in close and flipped my ass upside-down before I could touch my guns. We made nice afterwards, and since I was in town for a bit, he showed me a bit of what he knew. How to throw punches, when the guns ain’t gonna work.” Red chewed her lip a moment, then sighed – loudly. “What the shit?” She glared, narrow-eyed, at Keydis. “I came hikin’ my ass up here to figure out what you’re all about, not wax poetic about my lame-ass life.”
"What I'm all about?" Keydis asked, cocking her head to one side. "Don't think you ever asked." She lifted the halberd over her head and then, on impulse, threw it like a javelin at the solitary tree. The unbalanced weapon wasn't built for that, though, and instead it hit the dirt and slid. "Hm. Would've worked better with the spear."
Facing Red, Keydis sighed and then reached down to grab her sword. "Drop that, don't worry it's a piece of junk," she said, gesturing toward the spear before holding the hilt of her sword toward Red. "No lessons this time, but I want you to hold this for a sec."
“Well, no,” Red did as Keydis had requested, lightly tossing the spear to one side. “I didn’t ask. But I was going to. Or, meant to. Whichever. Why am I...?” She took the sword in her right hand, her grip loose but steady.
"Take it back twenty-some odd years. My parents meet, fall in love, get married, and go into business together. Rare pet business, small but pretty successful. Twenty-one years ago, cue me. For five years I got to live the happy life, and then they took me on an airship. A monster, a vistra, destroyed the airship and killed everyone... except me and my enlil uncle who saved me. No relation."
Keydis explained it all in a monotone, but there was something in her eyes, an emotion lost somewhere between sadness and anger. She closed her eyes and went on, talking louder to prevent Red from saying anything stupid like, "I'm sorry," or "that's so sad."
"My uncle was a guard in Terminus. Best friends with my parents, they had already written up a will leaving me in his care if anything happened. I was... kind of a messed up kid. Got into fights all the time. My uncle wanted me to follow my parents and learn to work with animals. I wanted to be a guard. He didn't like it, so I learned on my own, did everything I needed to do, and eventually I found out that it didn't matter. He had enough sway that he just had to tell them not to pass me, and I never would. So three years ago, I left home."
Here, Keydis paused, unsure what to tell and what not to tell. "I became a bounty hunter. Seemed to make sense, I had all the skills. That's how I met Annora and Eloquii. But... I found a bounty. It was a vistra, the same vistra that killed my parents. Havital couldn't talk me out of it, Annora couldn't talk me out of it. I threw myself at the thing. It had possessed the airship, lifted the wreckage up into the sky, but I fought it and stabbed it and cut it until I found its heart and killed it."
Keydis looked up and met Red's eyes. "I barely survived. I shouldn't have. Annora found me, somehow, and kept me from dying. That's a big part of why I'm here now, for her. I owe her at least that much." She shrugged and looked down at her arm and the scars running across her forearm. "The monster died, but the evil that controlled it is part of me now. 'Caeancora.'" A fleeting smile spread, though, and Keydis waved at the sword in Red's hand. "I made that sword, after, from the wreckage of the airship, and it's been enhanced by Annora. 'Promoveo,' a reminder of the fact that I beat the fucking thing before, and I'm constantly going to get better, and stronger, and improve the sword.
"It had its chance to kill me, and it fucked up. I don't plan to give it another."
Red realized, after a moment of silence, that Keydis was done. Also, she was staring.
“Um,” she said, eloquently. “I. Uh, thanks. For telling me all that.” Honestly, she had no idea what to say; that was a lot of information to digest, much less respond intelligently to. The schiavona in her hand felt a lot heavier, now. She felt uncomfortable holding it. “I did ask, I guess. Sorta.”
The redhead’s eyes fell to Keydis’s sword – Promoveo. She didn’t know much about swords, or smithing, or enchanting, but if she knew anything about her new (sort-of) traveling companions, she imagined a lot of time and care had gone into it. She turned it this way and that, watched the sunlight glint off the polished surface. The sun was a thick heat on her back, the breeze cool in counterpoint, but the air still felt stiff, somehow. It felt heavier, too.
“Did it help, at all?” she asked, abruptly. She looked up, met Keydis’s gaze. “Takin’ out the sack of shit that killed your parents? I know it’s...” she gestured, awkwardly, to Keydis’s arms, “...stuck in you, now, but you got it. Kicked its ass, all that. As long as you keep kickin’ its ass, it’s sorta like you’re makin’ sure it doesn’t fuck up anything else. Anyone else.” Red shrugged, not certain what she was trying to say. She just knew the story had conjured up memories of her parents; their faces. She might hate them, but she loved them, too.
“Look. My name’s Ceres,” she blurted. She looked away with a grimace. “Er. Ceres Arenas. But, seriously, I prefer Red. Just... I thought you should know my real name, at least. After all...all that.”
"Ceres Arenas," the brunette repeated. "You've screwed up now, 'cause I like that name." Keydis flashed a playful grin, a genuine smile unlike the strained ones she'd been showing. "Don't worry, I'm not planning to blab it to anyone, don't want to start any family drama. But when it's just you and me..." She winked and then reached over to take her sword back. "Fair's fair, though, so I guess I should tell you my real name. It is..." There was a long pause, building tension. "Keydis Lysistrata."
Of course, Red already knew that -- it was on the bounty, after all, and Keydis had never been secretive about it. In the midst of the anticlimax, Keydis sheathed her sword and began slipping her boots on.
"Anyway, I think I'm done with the polearms for now. The mood’s gone." Keydis gathered up her belongings, handing both of the polearms to Red and making her hold them. "I've still got time to kill, though, if you want to stick around. Maybe we'll grab some food." The brunette slipped her sleeveless longcoat on, shaking the dust off of it.
With her back to Red, Keydis fell silent for a moment. "And yes. It helped. I'd still be in Terminus, probably never would have left at all, except for that."
Whirling around suddenly, Keydis slammed her fist into Red's shoulder. "Now stop making shit all serious!"
“You started it,” Red said without thinking, not sure how true it was. Her shoulder smarted, but since couldn’t think of a good way to retaliate going all spears-akimbo or just dropping them on the ground again, she let Keydis get away with it – this time.
“But, uh, good. Yeah, food.” The redhead looked over to her gunbelts then at the polearms Keydis had forced into her hands. “Sounds good.” Now that the subject had been brought up – she had skipped breakfast. “...Really good. I basically rolled outta bed and up this hill, so take your stabbin’ sticks back, let me get my guns and you can lead the way, Keydis Lysistrata.”
After taking the polearms back, leaning them over her shoulder, Keydis warned, "I don't know my way around this place any better than you do. In fact, you're from Aridus, shouldn't you lead the way?" Looking over at Red as she fastened the belts, Keydis stepped closer, reaching out with her free hand to grab a conspicuous lock of brown hair on the right side of the redhead's bangs.
"Wow. I had no idea that coffee could dye your hair for this long." She lightly rubbed it with her thumb and then smirked. "Have to say, it actually looks good on you, Ceres."