Dark Astrology
The Juggernaut

"Hammer on at molten gold
Staying young and never getting old
Strength fades as fast as the shine
Bright tarnish, thou art mine."



Another fight had broken out.

It was like the last one -- words said in the heat of anger, spiteful and cutting. Meant to do damage that would later be regretted. Meant to but not meant to.
They say words can change a man. They can and most often, they do.
Tonight, another fight had broken out.
And tonight, words would again be the weapon.

--------------------------

They had been at the market gathering cloth and dyes for the tannery when it happened. Honestly, they'd rarely ever fought and when they did, it was resolved quickly. This was just another fight between Sahib and Rongar.
Sahib spoke louder than usual as words escalated.

"Damn you mout' ahnd burn you! Allah, you dishonour me!"

Rongar spat back with a verbal blow of his own and promptly turned his back. For all he cared at that moment, the whole tannery could go under and he'd not bat an eyelash.

"Den do dis on you own, you tuh-ban wearin' --- !"

Sahib stood and stared at Rongar's retreating back. He didn't cry nor did his face betray the emotions held inside but he was no automaton. He stood there and felt his heart pound within his chest. He felt his breath quicken and no longer could he stand still. Sahib started walking briskly to follow Rongar's path.
He ran when he heard a woman scream.

-------------------------------

The Tradition was fulfilled.
Justice was delivered.

The dark-skinned, broad-chested barrel of a man lay dead on the ground near the market's borders. His face was a cold mask of primal horror made eerie by the lack of his eyes.
Sahib nearly bowled the screaming woman over as she pointed and cried.

She had not seen the blue streak from the shadows. She had in fact, been procuring honey for her latest baklava order when Rongar's shadow passed over her then suddenly fell away. She knew he hadn't merely walked by.
She screamed when she turned and saw the eyeless face.

Sahib didn't calm her down.

He found no calm within himself when she turned and pushed him nearly onto Rongar's body.

"By Allah..."

The woman and Sahib stared at the thing crouching on top of a corpse at least three times its size. It seemed to stare them right back, baring its transparent teeth.
Sahib was numb. He and Rongar had rarely fought and when they did, always came to amends. He was always confident in their resilience to adversities from the outside world and from each other.

Reconciliation was taken away.

And now, Sahib would have blood for it. Somehow.

---------------------------------

The creature knew he was being stared at. And he didn't care.

He was delivering justice. Karmic justice.

The creature had been drawn to the sounds of angered words, drawn to the rage and by the rage. It had followed the two as they fought with words. It listened as words became like blades. It struck at the right moment.
Once, it had failed to do anything.
Once, it was useless to heal wounds caused by words.

Now, it delivered a harsh justice to those who delivered words so carelessly.

It knew Rongar felt what it delivered -- the tactic was simple. Smooth and quick, the beast pounced upon the man like he were prey. Smooth and quick, it unleashed a sinister, invisible torture until this behemoth of a humanoid fell dead.
It didn't stop until this vile creature's own words had slain it.
Words are indeed a most successful weapon.

It was a lesson the beast ruthlessly taught again and again.

The beast took Rongar's eyes without a trace. It took the eyes by dissolving and drying them into nothingness.

Justice is blind, after all.

Dark Astrology
Wielding the Hammer

"Forge from gold and forge from steel
What I cannot produce of thread
Unravel and come down
The anvil set, match and made
From ideals struck dead."



Two were slain this night.

One earlier in the hours and now, another.

She had spoken whispered howls of deceit and twist. Now he spoke the same, denouncing that which he had stood close to.
The predator had followed them both.

----------------------------

Brandon didn't care to hold his tongue. He didn't think of what the wise of old had said about comeuppance or Karma, or even justice. All he knew was that he aimed to hurt. And he did.
He had been at first skeptical of Jake's idealism. It had been dashed tonight. Tonight, he'd chosen to thrust his younger brother's dreaming mind into the real world. He was old enough and he'd have to learn hard lessons to survive in this world called hell and home.
He'd have to learn to stand on his own.
So Brandon lashed out as calm words escalated into a full-blown battle.

The creature followed them as it had its first prey.

It listened to the scathing words that were painted with red betrayal.
The dance began again.

It let the heat-cold wash over its mind. It heard the words as they shot like bullets from one voice to another. The beast listened until it heard enough. It listened until the silence and the cacophony grew deafening.
Scarlet met with ice. Thunder met with quiet strategy.
The Orient danced with Europe in ages past and ignited the fire.
The hammer struck a frozen anvil.

Brandon had turned his back on Jake, fully intent on letting him go it alone. It was a harsh lesson but one to be learned. He loved his brother, truly, but both were no longer children. No longer could idyllic dreamworlds prevail.
Brandon got his wish.
He never saw it manifest.

-----------------------------

Justice was blind. Justice was harsh.

It always rang true in the end.

The creature didn't linger this time at its kill. It slew the selected prey, served it justice, took its eyes and then fled.

It never knew nor cared that a throng was slowly growing.

It never knew nor cared that once again like in years past, it would be hunted down.

Justice was blind.

And always, Justice somehow prevailed.

Dark Astrology
The Torn Prince

"I heard a cry on the wind and I listened.
I heard a cry across the sea and I heard.
I heard a cry inside and I knew.

Were I to cry, 'twould come unheard.
Were I to call, 'twould go unknown.
Were I to fall, can one such as I
Still land softly?"



Another midnight hour had gone by. The Tradition was fulfilled again. As it always would be.

Another midnight hour had gone by and the rage came again.

Another midnight hour.
Another rise of the hunter.

--------------------

Jack Sidwell didn't know what hit him.

All he knew was that he was angry, didn't care at that moment what happened to Quentin Rhys. All he knew was that he was angry and lashing out.
He lashed out at the wrong time.

Jack was dead before anyone could get to him. However, the creature was not to escape without some decent pursuit this night.

Quentin didn't understand it. All he knew was that Jack had told him -- no. He couldn't repeat the words in his head. all he had left was the anger and the pain of Jack Sidwell effectively severing their decades-long partnership. Friendship.
And all for a misunderstanding.
All for a damsel.

Jack Sidwell was dead before he could mend what he'd broken.

----------------------

He was dreaming again.

No. Not dreaming.

Analysis.

He didn't initiate this but something had.

He was within Analysis again and it frightened him.

The bone-white halls stretched infinitely before him in their twisting, winding ways. The rain had begun almost instantly and he knew where he was.
He was standing upright again.
The Hunter followed too close behind.
And the hunter spoke as the rain fell.

Renne started running with all the power he could put in his steps. He ducked his head against the steady, drizzling, cold rain. He flattened his ears to try and deaden the sharp calls of that which was behind him.
The silence only augmented the angry, stinging words.
"Running again, are you?! Yes, abandon him! Abandon them like you did last time!"

"I abandoned no one!"

Renne kept running as the rain grew torrential in its force. The hunter lifted his left hand and held a spear to ready.

"Why did you leave that place you call Home?"

"I fled. I believed they did not have need of me. They -- "

"Were right, you fool! They do not have need of you! You still abandoned them!"

He turned onto a split in the bone-road. The terrain of smooth, sickeningly smooth surface changed. The stones were round and nearly uniform in shape. They were slick with rain and something thicker.
They weren't stones.
What stones had eye sockets and empty, grinning teeth staring up at you?

The hunter threw the spear like a javelin.

It soared over Renne's head and landed, driving itself into one of the skull-stones merely feet in front of him.
He cried out as the shaft snapped in two under his running momentum.

"This is Home! Family! I love them!"

"You left them. They had no need of you. What are you to them, occasional laughter? A joke?"

"I learned from them. I guarded Home for them!"

"And you did nothing when they separated ways, did you?!"

"What could I do? What could I say?"

"Nothing. It is why they left you behind."

"They did not leave me behind! They believed they protected me!"

"Did they?"

"Yes!"

He tumbled and threw the broken spear shaft away. His ears flattened to their lowest along the sides of his head. He cried out -- anything to drown the hunter's words.
Anything.
And he kept running upon a road made of skull-stones. He kept turning and twisting on the downward path.
The Hunter laughed a howling laugh.

"You wronged them."

He didn't respond to that. He careened down another path; ended up tumbling down its incline. Nothing stopped him except a great bone door.
A bone door with chains locking it.
And the hunter smiled.

The hunter stalked closer to his prey.

Renne scrambled to his feet unable now to hide the terror in his useless, prismatic eyes.

"You wronged them. You did it, didn't you?"

"Did nothing! I did nothing."

"You found the maker-of-thunder, did you not?"

He cringed.

"Yes."

"You took it, did you not?"

"I -- "

"Answer me."

The hunter drew closer and pinned his victim against the cold, skeletal door.

"Yes. I took it to keep it safe for him."

"And you gave it back."

"I did."

"And then he disappeared."

Renne said nothing. He felt the tears burn in his eyes. He felt the doors crack under the Hunter's increasing pressure.

"You failed them. It is why you are Justice now."

"You make the rage, Hunter! It is you!"

"You still hear her, don't you?"

"How can I not? She was the Catalyst!"

"You were right alongside her."

"I was not!"

"You said nothing to help them, did you?"

"What could I say?"

The Hunter pushed against him. He had his victim pinned already but there was something he wanted. Something his victim didn't deserve to have.
With one hand free, he turned Renne's head to the left side. It was a smooth, quick motion but the mark wouldn't be so quick to disappear.
The Hunter's thin blade was effective. His words were more effective.

"You let them down. You killed him."

His voice didn't mask the soft hiss of long hair falling to the bone-ground.

------------------------------

He came out of the involuntary Analysis screaming. Tears fell down his face and he trembled from head to foot. His scream stopped short when he lifted his head.
One hand came up behind his neck.
The other felt soft, long hair fibers piled on the Maritime's floor.

In the distance somewhere, Kaori Hotaro laughed victoriously.

Dark Astrology
Thirteenth Wheel

"I saw a man with a sword. He slew thousands.
I saw a man with a pen. He destroyed a world."




Malcolm listened to the creature until he could stand it no more.

He crept out of the old building with an odd feeling in his gut but somehow it strengthened his resolve. He slung his trident across his back and carried his net over one arm. His mind was whirling.
What to do? How to do it?

He knew one answer. Now the other had to come to him.

----------------------

It was the bright of day. The warmth he so loved within these walls had returned. For hours he did nothing but let his memories go where they would and let his body bask in the heat that most were calling too hot.
Hey, Mamela

It was the bright of day and his mind was in its darker shadows.

He had put all of his treasures away except for one more now. The first written note was replaced with another. One that spoke of faith.
Faith in oneself.
Faith.

Faith he didn't have in himself.

Still, Renne let his mind go over the message and the memory.
If it was all he was destined to have, so be it. Home was here. Home was still here and yet it wasn't.
It was empty.

Something was missing.
Someone was missing.
Two someones were missing.

But he was gone. Archie had said so. Then he too disappeared.
They were both gone.
He had failed them.

For the day, he stayed inside these walls, holding onto what memories he had that had yet to be tainted by the unknown thing in his mind.

Again, he prayed.
And again, he vowed to pay whatever price asked of him to...

To what?

He wasn't entirely sure what.

----------------------

Malcolm was thinking.

He'd heard of the killings, seen quite a few of them. It made him think all the more clearly in his goal. He was no cop and he had no knowledge of legal matters.
Malcolm still felt he could do something in this.
So he'd do it.
Trust you gave, a child to save

He weaved through the marketplace to find what he sought. He wanted it to be in top condition.
It wouldn't do to have this goal unfulfilled.

Malcolm Atsedes found what he was seeking.

And now, he turned and left the marketplace for another, much quieter location.