11-20-2009, 04:37 AM
(This post was last modified: 11-20-2009, 04:38 AM by Belle Hibiki.)
Sleep, when it came, came fitfully. Two of the women, Ashe and Sophia, had already left the bunker, and Kaden had accompanied them. That left the population at one man, one woman; and although Belle doubted that Sage would jump him in his sleep, he didn't like the odds.
Belle lay on his bed with his back pressed against a wall, facing the row of rumpled beds and the open door to the adjoining kitchen where the girl still sat. Hopefully he would sense her approach and wake up quickly enough to do something about it. His alertness kept him awake, but as tense seconds stretched into minutes, his tension eased, and his thoughts, muddied and dim, drifted.
It had been a long time since he had thought about Chickie. He had assumed he was over it, but memories floated before his mind's eye as he dozed. There was no pain in the remembrance of his friend; just a hollow sense of loss.
It was, he thought, little better.
That day, and the days that had followed, had been some of the darkest in Belle's life. Afterward he had sworn to control his power so that he could never again cause harm to the people he cared about. And it worked; in all the time that he had spent searching for the Dragonballs, and even when he was fighting for his life, he - perhaps unconsciously - had held back. From that day forward, he had handicapped himself.
Belle had convinced himself that testing his true strength was only a small part of the reason he had come. Now, however, he wasn't so sure.
Master Long had once confided to Belle that he was unsure whether Belle would be able to collect the Dragonballs. He was too kind hearted, the master had said, to walk 'the path of broken dreams.' Maybe he was right.
A short time ago, Belle had come very close to losing everything. His dragonball stolen, another nearby, he had joined up with Kaden, then a relative stranger, to take back what was his; and he had nearly died for it. His memories of those fights were hazy, and there were parts near the end that he seemed to have lost entirely, but he remembered how hard it had been.
If he hadn't held back, would it have been easier? Did shedding his limits mean he would have to shed part of himself?
Questions continued to trouble his mind as darkness slipped around the outer edges of his consciousness. Sleep came, but only briefly; soon the games would begin, and he would have to find his answer.
If the darkness made it hard to see, the fog made it practically impossible. It felt as if Belle were tumbling through darkness, and there was a momentary sense of falling, as if from vertigo, before he stamped his foot and reminded himself that he was, in fact, on solid ground.
Whatever had come over Sage, whatever she thought he was, it was clear that she wasn't going to hold back. Belle would not have guessed that anything could make the shy, demure girl into a cold blooded killer; but obviously, he didn't know her whole story.
Taking a hesitant step back, Belle yelped as the back of his foot collided with the edge of the barrier. There was the sharp snap hiss of electricity, followed by an intense burning sensation in his foot. Belle jerked his heel away from the field as it glowed and rippled from the contact, spreading diffuse light through the nearby mist. "Uh oh."
"I said you can't run from me!" Sage suddenly screamed as the light pulsed brighter.
As the sizzle from the field faded, Belle slowly became aware of a new sound. Soft, cracking, it reminded him of the way frozen ponds broke apart in spring.
Belle had the impression of glittering lights in the distant mist, growing ever closer and multiplying rapidly. A subtle prod from the back of his mind urged him to duck, and he threw himself to the ground just as the cracking sound rushed overhead. Half-masked in the darkness, the misty air above him congealed, and with a sharp crack, solidified into long, barb tipped shards of ice.
Dozens of them; hundreds. The space that Belle had just left was perforated by at least twenty different wicked points. Fortunately, the mist hadn't yet had time to settle to the ground. Belle lay flat on his belly, the tip of a particularly large floating spike nudging him in the back of the neck.
Reaching up, he grasped the length of the barb, so cold and dry that it felt like it was gluing itself to his skin, and threw it aside. The icicle bounced across the grass before abruptly shattering in midair. Following swiftly into oblivion, the remaining needles either broke apart, crushed together, or simply fell to the ground.
Sitting up, Belle kept his ears perked. He peered into the mist. Sage's attack, though vicious, had taken a lot of the moisture out of the air. For now, at least, he could see. Once she realized that her attack had failed, she would no doubt rush to smother the area again. Belle didn't intend to give her that opening. What he needed was more time; he needed to think.
As if on queue, someone started muscling their way through the foliage, heading in his direction. It struck him as odd that she wasn't just slicing her way through anymore; Sage either didn't want him to hear her coming, or her attack had exhausted her.
Exhausted or not, she was still a threat. It would only take one swipe of Sage's claws to ventilate his chest. Before he could work out a plan of attack, he would have to get her off his back.
There wasn't much to work with. The trees around him had already been shown to be nothing more than mere annoyances to her. Rocks, too, seemed too clumsy to catch her. He didn't think that throwing her own ice at her would work terribly well, which left him with - what, exactly? Grass? Dirt?
Belle paused and examined the ground more closely. A moment later he straightened up as a sudden idea occurred to him. Yes, he thought. Dirt would do just fine.
Sage pushed through the final layer of branches and looked around. The small clearing in front of her was still partially shrouded in mist, but she could see enough to confirm that her target had disappeared. She pursed her lips. She didn't understand how Sol had gotten there, nor why he had taken on the form of Belle Hibiki, but she wasn't going to let him get away. Not this time.
She was angry - angrier than she could remember being in a long time. The thought that it was Sol, not Belle, who had said such nice things to her just a few hours ago made it even worse.
Whatever his sick, twisted reasons were for this little game, she would find him. He could not have gotten very far. She took a few steps forward, then abruptly stopped, cocking her head to the side. There, next to a nearby tree, was a small, shallow basin of grassless ground. Roughly circular, perhaps no more than four or five feet across, it almost looked like the entrance to a collapsed tunnel.
Sage barely had time to register the singular oddity of what she was seeing before the ground underneath her suddenly heaved. Two hands broke through the soil, grabbed her ankles, and then violently pulled down.
Suddenly she was falling. Down, down, into the rabbit hole she went. The feeling of strong hands vanished as she dropped. Her feet hit bottom with a bone shuddering halt just as her neck fell to around ground level. Earth collapsed around her, pressing in from all directions, pinning her arms to her sides. She struggled, biting off a savage curse, and quickly ran through a mental checklist of her powers. Although many of them had the potential to kill, none of them were particularly useful for excavating ground.
Five meters from where she was trapped, the ground surged up again. Two hands ripped themselves through the grass with the soft crunch and snap of breaking roots, followed by the shape of an all-too-familiar body. Sol.
The man brushed himself off, then leveled his gaze at her. "Whew," he breathed. "That was close." He looked at his hands and grimaced. "I'm not going to get a disease off you or anything, am I?"
"Sh-shut up!"
Sol looked up, curious. "You're stuttering again," he observed. "How come you only do that when - "
He never finished. Stiffening abruptly, Sol jumped into the air just as a spike of ice ripped out of the ground underneath his feet. How Sol could have known the attack was coming, Sage couldn't even begin to guess. He landedly lightly on both feet, threw one very annoyed look at her, and sprinted off into the forest.
Sage watched him go, quivering in impotent rage and wondering why he hadn't bothered to finish her off.
Belle slowed to a trot once he was outside of Sage's visual range. The wet ground would hold her for a while, but she would eventually find a way out of the trap. Ten minutes, maybe fifteen, and she'd be after him again.
Gathering his energy, he leaped into the trees and landed on a branch. Steadying himself with one hand on his perch and another on the trunk, he peered into the forest. Navigating through the treetops would be rough without his tail, but he thought he would make good time. The only question was what his destination would be.
And what he would do once he got there.
Belle grimaced. Why did it have to be a girl? He didn't have a problem fighting other guys, but girls were different. On top of it being against his code of honor to hit a girl, they just made him feel... icky. There was something inherently wrong about them. He didn't even want to get close to her, let alone touch her. But how else was he supposed to win?
Belle brooded as he began to swing through the trees. It looked like he was going to have to be clever.
It took Sage maybe twenty minutes to finally figure out how to extricate herself from the ground. Doing it, however, was another matter entirely.
Sage took a deep breath, held it, and then slowly let it out. She was painfully aware of how long it had been since she had had any Valium. Pushing the thought out of her mind, she took another breath, closed her eyes, and focused her mind. Most of her powers worked on instinct. This time, she would have to call them out herself.
She felt something in her stir, then recede. The redoubled her efforts, knitting her brow and biting her lip. She felt the sea approach, but then, very slowly, start to pull away from her. I have to find him, she thought. I have to. I have to! I will! I must!
All of a sudden it was there. She opened her eyes as the mist around her drew inward, gathering together and seeping into the ground. She waited until the moisture was fully saturated before, with a stupendous effort, she flexed her mind, willing the water to harden into ice. A thin, frozen barrier pieces itself together before her eyes, rising up and piercing through the soil, wrapping around her in every direction.
When she was satisfied that the barrier was sturdy enough, still somewhat marveling that she had managed to do it on her own, she bit her lip and shifted her attention to the next stage.
Concentrating with all her might, still trying to hold onto that tenuous feeling of power that was rapidly slipping through her fingers, she reached out to the subsurface waters that ran through the ground. Egging them up, she brought the disparate drops together, hardened them, and brought the ice surging upward. Roots of ice sprang out of the ground, tearing through the soil and seeming to flail like a host of writhing tentacles before plunging back down and making their way towards her. Wrapping around the egg, hard tips shearing against the barrier, their passage nudged it upward, inch by inch, until with a sharp pop, she came free.
Sage dropped the barrier, dirt falling away from her as she rolled onto the upturned soil. Panting hard, feeling as if a massive headache was coming on, she fumbled in her clothes for the bottle that she knew was there. Taking it out, she unscrewed the top and tapped out a dosage that any doctor in their right mind would have known was far beyond the safe limit.
Popping them in her mouth, she swallowed and nearly choked. She swallowed again, forcing the rest down, and closed her eyes.
She would have loved to have stayed there forever. To have waited until she was ready. But Sol was out there, and every minute that she tarried meant the chances of her finding him grew dimmer and dimmer.
Forcing herself onto her feet, she staggered forward and leaned against a tree. She wouldn't have imagined that forcefully using her powers would take so much out of her. When she used them naturally it came so easily, so effortlessly. It was, like Belle had said, something that she had to tame.
She frowned, then shook her head. No, not Belle; Sol. Why was she still confused?
Blinking twice, scanning the darkness, she set off in the direction that she had seen him run.
An hour later the pills had more than kicked in, but her prey was nowhere to be seen. Sage felt as if she had scouted every inch of the battlefield that there was to see, and was just about to backtrack and retrace her steps when something moved in the branches above her.
She acted without thinking, throwing her hand up and sending a rapid fire series of icicles into the canopy. There was a small screech, and a moment later a small shape tumbled to the ground. A squirrel, stabbed clean through by a jagged shard of ice, writhed on the ground before suddenly going still.
Sage put a hand over her mouth and stepped back. She closed her eyes, shook her head. No; she couldn't get upset about it now. She had to find him. She had to find Sol.
She turned to go, but paused, and then swung back around. Healing the squirrel was going to waste more precious time - time that she really didn't have - but she couldn't just leave it. Pulling the ice out of the small mammal, Sage pressed her hand over the suddenly open wound and once again dipped into her fledgling abilities. The animal's legs twitched, and she hoped that they were merely unconscious flutters, that it wasn't still awake.
A minute later she pulled her hand away. The mark wasn't gone completely - there was still a cut - but it would live.
"Didn't really peg you for an animal person."
Sage whipped around. There, standing with his hands in his pockets, was Sol. A smirk was on his face, a familiar smile that was an all too familiar reminder of better days. "Tired of running away?" she snapped, letting her anger smother the ache in her chest as claws of ice formed around her hands.
"Running? I've just been, uh," he paused, then scratched his head. His mannerisms were completely different from what she remembered. "Coming up with a plan. It's... like... a strategic retreat, you know?"
Sol's image suddenly flickered.
"What's going on?" Dukes demanded.
"It's Sage," Audric replied tensely, his hands flying across his board. He had rarely been so pressed. "The program is having trouble keeping the sync with her memories."
"I thought you said you could do it."
"Under normal circumstances," Audric gritted his teeth, watching the readouts. "But her brain chemistry is way out of whack. Kind of happens when you dose that hard."
"But it's not real," Dukes pointed out.
"She thinks it is. That's all that matters."
Damon rubbed his temples. "Just make sure this doesn't fall through," he muttered. "This is one of the only good cards we have this round."
"You want to fight me, right?" Belle asked, turning. "Come on."
He was off like a shot, leaping over a short scrub of pushes that had tangled together over the years. Sage paused for only a moment before giving chase; he could hear her crashing through the undergrowth. Some of her rage seemed to be back, and she was slashing through anything that she couldn't just overrun.
Good, he thought. That would make this a little easier. He kept his eyes peeled for the small markings that he had made along the path he had taken. A small gouge in the side of a tree with a trunk split like a wishbone. That meant he had to turn left.
He did so, sending out a kick as her passed and snapping a thick tumble of branches to the ground just behind the tree. He landed at a run, and a few moments later heard Sage's frustrated grunts as she ran headlong into them.
The air around him was rapidly dropping in temperature. Even with a good lead on the ice princess, her influence was growing so rapidly that, if he didn't make it soon, he was going to be trudging through snow. He could head into the trees, of course; but he didn't want to lose her.
A gash in the ground. A right. A pattern of five leaves on a dirt mound. Straight. He was getting close, but he could hear the pounding of Sage's feet right behind him.
He turned sharply at another marker, gathered his strength, and vaulted over a high wall formed by the intermingling roots of two massive trees. Sage was hot on his heels, and sliced straight through the ancient wood like a furious, hungry blizzard.
This was the spot. Belle landed, ran a few more paces, and then screeched to a halt. He turned around, shielding his eyes as frigid air and stinging snow pelted at his exposed face and arms. Emerging from between the twin monolithic arbors, air howling through the narrow space, Sage's shoulders heaved, her cyan hair sticking to her face.
"I will," she breathed, "make sure you never... Again..."
Her eyes shifted, flickering with doubt as she seemed to see something that Belle could not. Then they hardened again. "You won't hurt me," she whispered, and then charged forward, "ever again!"
Moment of truth. Please, let this work!
Twenty paces. She was fast, alright, but slower than Jun had been. Powerful, but without the finesse or control that Kaden had. Elemental in her fury, but nothing more than when he had fought the Ancient. Watching her carefully, he gathered his power. He would have to time this just right. "If you really think you can beat me," he called, "just try and hit me!"
Sage lifted one clawed hand. Belle smiled to himself ... and then sucked in a breath as her other hand lifted. A sudden blast of icy wind slammed into him and knocked him, so strong that he rocked back onto the balls of his feet. His eyes widened as he struggled to keep his balance, seeing her sharp fingers flex and then dive straight for his heart.
Sol's mouth fell open as her hand effortlessly plunged through his chest and emerged out the other side.
For a heartbeat, the world seemed to move in slow motion. Sol stared down at her, and she lifted her eyes to meet his. For one, single space of a fraction of a second, it was all over. She had won.
Strange, she realized absently, that he felt so cold inside...
And that's when she realized her mistake.
Sol's shocked image tweaked as she helplessly continued her charge, unable to halt her momentum. She breezed straight through him, his afterimage as intangible as a ghost.
Her hand hit something solid, and the next thing she was aware of was indescribable pain and the sound of crackling electricity. Only one thought penetrated the thick, ruddy haze of agony blinding her thoughts.
The barrier. She'd hit the barrier.
Belle blurred back into shape high above the battlefield, knee raised. The front of his shirt had been torn, but he thought he was otherwise okay.
Too close.
There was a loud, electric snap from bellow. Sage screamed as the energy from the barrier coursed through her hand and flowed into her body. She seemed paralyzed, unable to push forward and unable to pull back, twitching on the spot as crimson arcs of power raced up and down her trembling frame.
It was, he realized, now or never.
Letting out a roar that shook the newly birthed snow from the trees, he plunged through the air towards Sage's distant form. Every fiber of his training, every day he had spent pounding martial arts into his body, screamed for him to finish it there. Every part of him told him that it was right.
Every part, except one.
Sage's face contorted as she tilted her head back. He wasn't sure if she was even aware of him. Maybe she still thought he was this Sol guy. Or maybe she was already unconscious.
He was nearing. He could take his shot now. A blow across the side of her head would surely do it.
But then... what would happen to her? Would she die? Would she be able to continue fighting? Would she ever find what she was looking for? She had been nice to him at the bunker, or at least had listened. Was he really going to hit her?! What if he caused permanent damage? Sure, they said it was impossible, but ... But... !
He clenched his fist, squeezed his eyes shut, and bunched his muscles. Just do it! Do it! DO IT NOW!
"I...!"
DO IT!
"I ... can't!"
Belle swung, his fist whizzing by Sage's ear and missing by millimeters. He slammed into the snow with the force of a charging bull, his vision blurring with pain as he felt his shoulder pop out of its socket. He turned end over end, skidding, and then came to an ungraceful stop, sprawled with all his limbs in different directions.
Belle lay on his bed with his back pressed against a wall, facing the row of rumpled beds and the open door to the adjoining kitchen where the girl still sat. Hopefully he would sense her approach and wake up quickly enough to do something about it. His alertness kept him awake, but as tense seconds stretched into minutes, his tension eased, and his thoughts, muddied and dim, drifted.
It had been a long time since he had thought about Chickie. He had assumed he was over it, but memories floated before his mind's eye as he dozed. There was no pain in the remembrance of his friend; just a hollow sense of loss.
It was, he thought, little better.
That day, and the days that had followed, had been some of the darkest in Belle's life. Afterward he had sworn to control his power so that he could never again cause harm to the people he cared about. And it worked; in all the time that he had spent searching for the Dragonballs, and even when he was fighting for his life, he - perhaps unconsciously - had held back. From that day forward, he had handicapped himself.
Belle had convinced himself that testing his true strength was only a small part of the reason he had come. Now, however, he wasn't so sure.
Master Long had once confided to Belle that he was unsure whether Belle would be able to collect the Dragonballs. He was too kind hearted, the master had said, to walk 'the path of broken dreams.' Maybe he was right.
A short time ago, Belle had come very close to losing everything. His dragonball stolen, another nearby, he had joined up with Kaden, then a relative stranger, to take back what was his; and he had nearly died for it. His memories of those fights were hazy, and there were parts near the end that he seemed to have lost entirely, but he remembered how hard it had been.
If he hadn't held back, would it have been easier? Did shedding his limits mean he would have to shed part of himself?
Questions continued to trouble his mind as darkness slipped around the outer edges of his consciousness. Sleep came, but only briefly; soon the games would begin, and he would have to find his answer.
~+~+~+~+~
If the darkness made it hard to see, the fog made it practically impossible. It felt as if Belle were tumbling through darkness, and there was a momentary sense of falling, as if from vertigo, before he stamped his foot and reminded himself that he was, in fact, on solid ground.
Whatever had come over Sage, whatever she thought he was, it was clear that she wasn't going to hold back. Belle would not have guessed that anything could make the shy, demure girl into a cold blooded killer; but obviously, he didn't know her whole story.
Taking a hesitant step back, Belle yelped as the back of his foot collided with the edge of the barrier. There was the sharp snap hiss of electricity, followed by an intense burning sensation in his foot. Belle jerked his heel away from the field as it glowed and rippled from the contact, spreading diffuse light through the nearby mist. "Uh oh."
"I said you can't run from me!" Sage suddenly screamed as the light pulsed brighter.
As the sizzle from the field faded, Belle slowly became aware of a new sound. Soft, cracking, it reminded him of the way frozen ponds broke apart in spring.
Belle had the impression of glittering lights in the distant mist, growing ever closer and multiplying rapidly. A subtle prod from the back of his mind urged him to duck, and he threw himself to the ground just as the cracking sound rushed overhead. Half-masked in the darkness, the misty air above him congealed, and with a sharp crack, solidified into long, barb tipped shards of ice.
Dozens of them; hundreds. The space that Belle had just left was perforated by at least twenty different wicked points. Fortunately, the mist hadn't yet had time to settle to the ground. Belle lay flat on his belly, the tip of a particularly large floating spike nudging him in the back of the neck.
Reaching up, he grasped the length of the barb, so cold and dry that it felt like it was gluing itself to his skin, and threw it aside. The icicle bounced across the grass before abruptly shattering in midair. Following swiftly into oblivion, the remaining needles either broke apart, crushed together, or simply fell to the ground.
Sitting up, Belle kept his ears perked. He peered into the mist. Sage's attack, though vicious, had taken a lot of the moisture out of the air. For now, at least, he could see. Once she realized that her attack had failed, she would no doubt rush to smother the area again. Belle didn't intend to give her that opening. What he needed was more time; he needed to think.
As if on queue, someone started muscling their way through the foliage, heading in his direction. It struck him as odd that she wasn't just slicing her way through anymore; Sage either didn't want him to hear her coming, or her attack had exhausted her.
Exhausted or not, she was still a threat. It would only take one swipe of Sage's claws to ventilate his chest. Before he could work out a plan of attack, he would have to get her off his back.
There wasn't much to work with. The trees around him had already been shown to be nothing more than mere annoyances to her. Rocks, too, seemed too clumsy to catch her. He didn't think that throwing her own ice at her would work terribly well, which left him with - what, exactly? Grass? Dirt?
Belle paused and examined the ground more closely. A moment later he straightened up as a sudden idea occurred to him. Yes, he thought. Dirt would do just fine.
~+~+~+~+~
Sage pushed through the final layer of branches and looked around. The small clearing in front of her was still partially shrouded in mist, but she could see enough to confirm that her target had disappeared. She pursed her lips. She didn't understand how Sol had gotten there, nor why he had taken on the form of Belle Hibiki, but she wasn't going to let him get away. Not this time.
She was angry - angrier than she could remember being in a long time. The thought that it was Sol, not Belle, who had said such nice things to her just a few hours ago made it even worse.
Whatever his sick, twisted reasons were for this little game, she would find him. He could not have gotten very far. She took a few steps forward, then abruptly stopped, cocking her head to the side. There, next to a nearby tree, was a small, shallow basin of grassless ground. Roughly circular, perhaps no more than four or five feet across, it almost looked like the entrance to a collapsed tunnel.
Sage barely had time to register the singular oddity of what she was seeing before the ground underneath her suddenly heaved. Two hands broke through the soil, grabbed her ankles, and then violently pulled down.
Suddenly she was falling. Down, down, into the rabbit hole she went. The feeling of strong hands vanished as she dropped. Her feet hit bottom with a bone shuddering halt just as her neck fell to around ground level. Earth collapsed around her, pressing in from all directions, pinning her arms to her sides. She struggled, biting off a savage curse, and quickly ran through a mental checklist of her powers. Although many of them had the potential to kill, none of them were particularly useful for excavating ground.
Five meters from where she was trapped, the ground surged up again. Two hands ripped themselves through the grass with the soft crunch and snap of breaking roots, followed by the shape of an all-too-familiar body. Sol.
The man brushed himself off, then leveled his gaze at her. "Whew," he breathed. "That was close." He looked at his hands and grimaced. "I'm not going to get a disease off you or anything, am I?"
"Sh-shut up!"
Sol looked up, curious. "You're stuttering again," he observed. "How come you only do that when - "
He never finished. Stiffening abruptly, Sol jumped into the air just as a spike of ice ripped out of the ground underneath his feet. How Sol could have known the attack was coming, Sage couldn't even begin to guess. He landedly lightly on both feet, threw one very annoyed look at her, and sprinted off into the forest.
Sage watched him go, quivering in impotent rage and wondering why he hadn't bothered to finish her off.
~+~+~+~+~
Belle slowed to a trot once he was outside of Sage's visual range. The wet ground would hold her for a while, but she would eventually find a way out of the trap. Ten minutes, maybe fifteen, and she'd be after him again.
Gathering his energy, he leaped into the trees and landed on a branch. Steadying himself with one hand on his perch and another on the trunk, he peered into the forest. Navigating through the treetops would be rough without his tail, but he thought he would make good time. The only question was what his destination would be.
And what he would do once he got there.
Belle grimaced. Why did it have to be a girl? He didn't have a problem fighting other guys, but girls were different. On top of it being against his code of honor to hit a girl, they just made him feel... icky. There was something inherently wrong about them. He didn't even want to get close to her, let alone touch her. But how else was he supposed to win?
Belle brooded as he began to swing through the trees. It looked like he was going to have to be clever.
~+~+~+~+~
It took Sage maybe twenty minutes to finally figure out how to extricate herself from the ground. Doing it, however, was another matter entirely.
Sage took a deep breath, held it, and then slowly let it out. She was painfully aware of how long it had been since she had had any Valium. Pushing the thought out of her mind, she took another breath, closed her eyes, and focused her mind. Most of her powers worked on instinct. This time, she would have to call them out herself.
She felt something in her stir, then recede. The redoubled her efforts, knitting her brow and biting her lip. She felt the sea approach, but then, very slowly, start to pull away from her. I have to find him, she thought. I have to. I have to! I will! I must!
All of a sudden it was there. She opened her eyes as the mist around her drew inward, gathering together and seeping into the ground. She waited until the moisture was fully saturated before, with a stupendous effort, she flexed her mind, willing the water to harden into ice. A thin, frozen barrier pieces itself together before her eyes, rising up and piercing through the soil, wrapping around her in every direction.
When she was satisfied that the barrier was sturdy enough, still somewhat marveling that she had managed to do it on her own, she bit her lip and shifted her attention to the next stage.
Concentrating with all her might, still trying to hold onto that tenuous feeling of power that was rapidly slipping through her fingers, she reached out to the subsurface waters that ran through the ground. Egging them up, she brought the disparate drops together, hardened them, and brought the ice surging upward. Roots of ice sprang out of the ground, tearing through the soil and seeming to flail like a host of writhing tentacles before plunging back down and making their way towards her. Wrapping around the egg, hard tips shearing against the barrier, their passage nudged it upward, inch by inch, until with a sharp pop, she came free.
Sage dropped the barrier, dirt falling away from her as she rolled onto the upturned soil. Panting hard, feeling as if a massive headache was coming on, she fumbled in her clothes for the bottle that she knew was there. Taking it out, she unscrewed the top and tapped out a dosage that any doctor in their right mind would have known was far beyond the safe limit.
Popping them in her mouth, she swallowed and nearly choked. She swallowed again, forcing the rest down, and closed her eyes.
She would have loved to have stayed there forever. To have waited until she was ready. But Sol was out there, and every minute that she tarried meant the chances of her finding him grew dimmer and dimmer.
Forcing herself onto her feet, she staggered forward and leaned against a tree. She wouldn't have imagined that forcefully using her powers would take so much out of her. When she used them naturally it came so easily, so effortlessly. It was, like Belle had said, something that she had to tame.
She frowned, then shook her head. No, not Belle; Sol. Why was she still confused?
Blinking twice, scanning the darkness, she set off in the direction that she had seen him run.
~+~+~+~+~
An hour later the pills had more than kicked in, but her prey was nowhere to be seen. Sage felt as if she had scouted every inch of the battlefield that there was to see, and was just about to backtrack and retrace her steps when something moved in the branches above her.
She acted without thinking, throwing her hand up and sending a rapid fire series of icicles into the canopy. There was a small screech, and a moment later a small shape tumbled to the ground. A squirrel, stabbed clean through by a jagged shard of ice, writhed on the ground before suddenly going still.
Sage put a hand over her mouth and stepped back. She closed her eyes, shook her head. No; she couldn't get upset about it now. She had to find him. She had to find Sol.
She turned to go, but paused, and then swung back around. Healing the squirrel was going to waste more precious time - time that she really didn't have - but she couldn't just leave it. Pulling the ice out of the small mammal, Sage pressed her hand over the suddenly open wound and once again dipped into her fledgling abilities. The animal's legs twitched, and she hoped that they were merely unconscious flutters, that it wasn't still awake.
A minute later she pulled her hand away. The mark wasn't gone completely - there was still a cut - but it would live.
"Didn't really peg you for an animal person."
Sage whipped around. There, standing with his hands in his pockets, was Sol. A smirk was on his face, a familiar smile that was an all too familiar reminder of better days. "Tired of running away?" she snapped, letting her anger smother the ache in her chest as claws of ice formed around her hands.
"Running? I've just been, uh," he paused, then scratched his head. His mannerisms were completely different from what she remembered. "Coming up with a plan. It's... like... a strategic retreat, you know?"
Sol's image suddenly flickered.
~+~+~+~+~
"What's going on?" Dukes demanded.
"It's Sage," Audric replied tensely, his hands flying across his board. He had rarely been so pressed. "The program is having trouble keeping the sync with her memories."
"I thought you said you could do it."
"Under normal circumstances," Audric gritted his teeth, watching the readouts. "But her brain chemistry is way out of whack. Kind of happens when you dose that hard."
"But it's not real," Dukes pointed out.
"She thinks it is. That's all that matters."
Damon rubbed his temples. "Just make sure this doesn't fall through," he muttered. "This is one of the only good cards we have this round."
~+~+~+~+~
"You want to fight me, right?" Belle asked, turning. "Come on."
He was off like a shot, leaping over a short scrub of pushes that had tangled together over the years. Sage paused for only a moment before giving chase; he could hear her crashing through the undergrowth. Some of her rage seemed to be back, and she was slashing through anything that she couldn't just overrun.
Good, he thought. That would make this a little easier. He kept his eyes peeled for the small markings that he had made along the path he had taken. A small gouge in the side of a tree with a trunk split like a wishbone. That meant he had to turn left.
He did so, sending out a kick as her passed and snapping a thick tumble of branches to the ground just behind the tree. He landed at a run, and a few moments later heard Sage's frustrated grunts as she ran headlong into them.
The air around him was rapidly dropping in temperature. Even with a good lead on the ice princess, her influence was growing so rapidly that, if he didn't make it soon, he was going to be trudging through snow. He could head into the trees, of course; but he didn't want to lose her.
A gash in the ground. A right. A pattern of five leaves on a dirt mound. Straight. He was getting close, but he could hear the pounding of Sage's feet right behind him.
He turned sharply at another marker, gathered his strength, and vaulted over a high wall formed by the intermingling roots of two massive trees. Sage was hot on his heels, and sliced straight through the ancient wood like a furious, hungry blizzard.
This was the spot. Belle landed, ran a few more paces, and then screeched to a halt. He turned around, shielding his eyes as frigid air and stinging snow pelted at his exposed face and arms. Emerging from between the twin monolithic arbors, air howling through the narrow space, Sage's shoulders heaved, her cyan hair sticking to her face.
"I will," she breathed, "make sure you never... Again..."
Her eyes shifted, flickering with doubt as she seemed to see something that Belle could not. Then they hardened again. "You won't hurt me," she whispered, and then charged forward, "ever again!"
Moment of truth. Please, let this work!
Twenty paces. She was fast, alright, but slower than Jun had been. Powerful, but without the finesse or control that Kaden had. Elemental in her fury, but nothing more than when he had fought the Ancient. Watching her carefully, he gathered his power. He would have to time this just right. "If you really think you can beat me," he called, "just try and hit me!"
Sage lifted one clawed hand. Belle smiled to himself ... and then sucked in a breath as her other hand lifted. A sudden blast of icy wind slammed into him and knocked him, so strong that he rocked back onto the balls of his feet. His eyes widened as he struggled to keep his balance, seeing her sharp fingers flex and then dive straight for his heart.
~+~+~+~+~
Sol's mouth fell open as her hand effortlessly plunged through his chest and emerged out the other side.
For a heartbeat, the world seemed to move in slow motion. Sol stared down at her, and she lifted her eyes to meet his. For one, single space of a fraction of a second, it was all over. She had won.
Strange, she realized absently, that he felt so cold inside...
And that's when she realized her mistake.
Sol's shocked image tweaked as she helplessly continued her charge, unable to halt her momentum. She breezed straight through him, his afterimage as intangible as a ghost.
Her hand hit something solid, and the next thing she was aware of was indescribable pain and the sound of crackling electricity. Only one thought penetrated the thick, ruddy haze of agony blinding her thoughts.
The barrier. She'd hit the barrier.
~+~+~+~+~
Belle blurred back into shape high above the battlefield, knee raised. The front of his shirt had been torn, but he thought he was otherwise okay.
Too close.
There was a loud, electric snap from bellow. Sage screamed as the energy from the barrier coursed through her hand and flowed into her body. She seemed paralyzed, unable to push forward and unable to pull back, twitching on the spot as crimson arcs of power raced up and down her trembling frame.
It was, he realized, now or never.
Letting out a roar that shook the newly birthed snow from the trees, he plunged through the air towards Sage's distant form. Every fiber of his training, every day he had spent pounding martial arts into his body, screamed for him to finish it there. Every part of him told him that it was right.
Every part, except one.
Sage's face contorted as she tilted her head back. He wasn't sure if she was even aware of him. Maybe she still thought he was this Sol guy. Or maybe she was already unconscious.
He was nearing. He could take his shot now. A blow across the side of her head would surely do it.
But then... what would happen to her? Would she die? Would she be able to continue fighting? Would she ever find what she was looking for? She had been nice to him at the bunker, or at least had listened. Was he really going to hit her?! What if he caused permanent damage? Sure, they said it was impossible, but ... But... !
He clenched his fist, squeezed his eyes shut, and bunched his muscles. Just do it! Do it! DO IT NOW!
"I...!"
DO IT!
"I ... can't!"
Belle swung, his fist whizzing by Sage's ear and missing by millimeters. He slammed into the snow with the force of a charging bull, his vision blurring with pain as he felt his shoulder pop out of its socket. He turned end over end, skidding, and then came to an ungraceful stop, sprawled with all his limbs in different directions.
![[Image: Bellesig6-1.jpg]](http://i238.photobucket.com/albums/ff137/catseye543/Bellesig6-1.jpg)