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The Path to Heroism	By : cyberdemon107 Category: +S through Z > WAKFU MMORPG Views: 1823 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Wakfu, the characters or anything related to the show. This is a nonprofit fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
A hush fell over the massive white marble temple. The pews lined the central expanse, with great red granite statues decorating the walls, practically holding the colossal stone ceiling. Most of the crowd were Iops, and simple, cheery gazes converged on him. Many regulars as well, some Xelors, Ecaflips, and a Feca here and there. The silence was deafening. The entire building seemed to be made just to focus attention on him. Left hand felt warmth. He turned and met the deep, dark brown eyes of Eliandra Tedenkim. The tunic was replaced by a short, white dress that generously hugged her curves and exposed her long, luscious legs, clad in white sandals. White ribbons adorned her gorgeous hair, splitting it and combining several times in an orange waterfall. Elbow length white lace gloves covered her arms, and a small, crimson cross... or maybe sword-pendant hung from her neck. She squeezed his hand in reassurance, blushing and smiling.
"Zell, I'm Yours" she proclaimed warmly "I give you my..."
A gasp came from the crowd, echoing in the stone masonry. Colour drained from the beautiful Iop's face and she stepped back, breaking contact. Her gloved hands went to her mouth, an expression of shock passing across her face, eyes wide. Zell, wanted to ask what's wrong, to reassure... but something cold felt in his right hand. He turned, and met a pair of blood-shot grey eyes, belonging to a child. Her dirty hair stained with blood, lips trembling silently, as his fingers gripped her larynx. LET GO! The hand refused to listen. Her eyes began to roll back, lips spelling out a word. Quick, what is she saying? Two syllables.
"MURDERER!" The crowd converged, steel scraping on leather as hundreds of lethal blades separated from scabbards. Eliandra was gone, blocked by the mob. Or maybe just gone, for good. Zell frantically tried to dislodge his hand. The girl dropped to the ground, not moving. A deafening roar from all directions, footsteps rumbling closer. Something hit him from behind. The floor.
With a gasp he woke in cold sweat, sawdust sticking to his face. He rose, rubbing sore joints. Even seeing his lover didn't dislodge the vivid memory of the nightmare.
"Good morning, sweetie" she blinked. Blink. Brown. Grey. Gasp. "Murderer!" He shuddered.
"What's wrong?"
"Just a bad dream. Nothing serious" the dark eyes followed him across the wagon as he poured a glass of milk and took a slice of pie from yesterday. His right hand trembled, picking up the cup. The first rays of dawn pierced the canopy through the dodgy stitching, making the weapon rack behind him shine.
"You're worried" she said, sitting up and holding a blanket to her chest.
"Just a really bad feeling. Like I did something horrible and couldn't stop myself"
"From repeating?" Zell almost choked.
"N... no. I don't know. I don't dabble in parapsychology. I'm good at tracking, stalking... killing, hiding. " she just stared back in silent concern. He knew why. He couldn't hide it. But he couldn't just blurt out "yeah I dreamt I killed a child amid our wedding". She would never... Kiss.
Her bare breasts touched his back as she leaned in from behind and kissed him on the cheek. She squeezed his shoulders in reassurance.
"Don't worry. Es... pe-ci-ally about things that aren't real." Then her quiet footsteps retreated across the wagon. The creek of floor was replaced by fluttering of cloth, as she was getting dressed. She's right, sighted Zell. No sense losing sleep over what...
Is not there
Silence. There should never be this quiet on a caravan. Either the wheels are creeking or the people are walking around, gathering oats, feeding cattle... what the hell is going on? Hastily dropping his food, the Sram drew steel and made for the entrance. A single jump cleared the puzzled half-naked girl, he slipped past a rack of armor, through the curtain and saw... nothing. Just an empty road.
A crash from behind, and Eliandra smashed past the vitrines, brandishing a broadsword. She was still barefoot, but the tunic was on. They jumped out and started scanning around. The gobballs were gone, leads cut. Nothing on the road all the way to the horizon. Something... a dagger, pinning a note. To great dread he recognized his old ropedart, a bloodied hunk of twine still attached. He yanked it loose and opened the paper.
"I know you'll hate me ..." Oh no
"...villagers get killed, but it's a price I'm willing..." Oh Sram, no
"...cannot hope to win. So this is my sacrifice, to you..." his fingers began to crumble the paper, seething anger building
"Better all of us than you. It's the only way I can be sure you will be safe. I'm really sorry." The siding of the wagon splintered under his knuckles. Zell cried out in bitter hatred. Dumb Sacrieur! Ellie looked him over, saw the note and dart. She knew. Without a word they both ran inside the wagon and, scant minutes later the two flew through the dust of the road. Steel shone menacingly amidst a stream of the Iop's orange hair. Her eyes were white, lips pursed. Zell was always ready, his attire stayed the same. A full scabbard of knives decorated his back, like ribs for the skeleton pattern. The bleached bone cowl radiated murderous intent. Someone was going to pay. But minutes stretched into hours. Trees flashed by endlessly, with nothing in sight. Could they have gone off road? No, the wagons would stay behind. They were near exhaustion, slowing down. Gonna have to take a bre-
Slap! A hand hit his back. "This will be our finest hour!!!" screamed the Sentinel. Energy returned out of nowhere. He looked over, his companion's eyes white as eggshells. But the same grin was still there. She was still Eliandra. Stupid Iop magic. So corny, yet so simple in it's effectiveness.
A smoke rose in the distance. They picked up the pace. In bright sunlight, Zell's vision was sub-par, he counted on his partner. But even he could see 20 or so shapes. As they got closer, features set in. All wore brown, all had weapons. One was on his knees. A bandit swung a stick and the kneeling shape tumbled over.
"That's Rian! I saw it!" yelled the Iop. What was this sickening feeling in Zell's gut? He hated that bitch. She raped him and tried to break him and Ellie up. She tried to outsmart them and lead them into an ambush. He kicked her ass in combat. He made her swear loyalty in blood. He... shoehorned her into giving up her life for him. Her blood is on his hands. Whether it was selfish or not, she was suffering at the hands of crooks, because of him. Unacceptable. Unforgiveable.
Zell's heart matched the wingbeat of a dragonfly. In a plume of dust he exploded forward. Each step took him five, no ten yeards. The bandits were getting close. Not one raised their heads. Two clicks unhooked the scabbard, and with the fingerstrokes of a virtuoso pianist, an even dozen of deadly blades filled his hands. Step. Jump. Spin... a flick of both hands and a whispered "Fan of Knives released the rain of steel upon them. A whistling hail, then a staccato of piercing impacts. Then screams. Too late to run now. A flourish and like a bird of prey he came down hard, shattering vertebrae of the first bandit underfoot.
A second crook almost cleared leather, before cruel steel opened his stomach in a swath of gore. Third, dagger in the neck. A creek of rope under tension. Without looking, a dagger flies and finds it's mark between the eyes of a masked Cra. Next! A backkick liberates a saber and a handful of teeth from another bandit. The Sram took a stance between the tied up Sacrieur and the remaining Bandits. They're shaking.
"GET HIM!" None obey. A thunderbolt from behind, and an orange blade of rippling energy cuts a path through the remaining bandits. The Sentinel's colossal cleaver rends flesh and steel like dandelions. One turns with a last shot of courage. Turns his back. He is dead in a heartbeat, skewered by the Sram. As fast as it began, it is over. Both of them run to the Sacrieur's side.
She is covered in dried blood and dirt. A delicate swing of the dagger frays the ropes, first around the arms, then the one on her mouth. Zell reached in and pulled out a damp cloth from between her sharp teeth, trails of drool leaving her mouth. Rian started coughing and opened her pale grey eyes. She smiled and caressed the bone mask with a dirty hand.
"You came for me. I'm so-"
"What the hell did you do that for? These bandits were nobodies! We wouldn't have broken a sweat if all three of us fought. Now..." he motioned to the wagons "people are dead. All because of you!"
"But you're not. I kept my promise. And I let them get me. The leader is on a whole another level from everyone else." Zell cradled her head, dirty hair in his fingers. "But at least we can still get away"
"Like hell! After all this?" Yelled Eliandra
"She's right. How could you possibly put so few before so many? That's just... incredibly selfish!" Rian winced like she was struck.
"How could everyone put themselves before me? I had a family once. Not anymore. You know what it's like growing up an orphan?"
"Yes. A Sacrieur killed my father, and I was disowned." said the Sram coldly. Rian was tearing up.
"I... I'm so sorry. I had no idea. How?"
"Not important. He was once a great warrior. Now he is in a ditch somewhere in Dark Forest." The words had an unusual effect on the Sacrieur. Her eyes widened, like when she lost a part of her tattoo. She looked positively broken. Like a part of her was just... taken. She whispered a word, two syllables. Daddy. Oh no. Rope snapped like twine and in an instant, her sharp fingernails dug into Zell's throat, lifting him off the ground.
"MURDERER!" she wailed like a child. The Sentinel came in a moment, pinning her arms. Rian tried to wiggle free, but to no avail. She pulled at the Sram, every ounce of muscle under tension, teeth bared. She thrashed for several seconds, then calmed. Tears returned, leaving streaks on her dirty cheeks like running makeup." You mean my whole family is dead because yours wanted to do some shopping?!"
"I did not kill him. And they disowned me. I couldn't kill him." He ripped his shirt open, showing the scar. "I heard you cry and stopped. I was not ready to kill a-"
"LIAR!"
"I swear"
"Aren't you blood bound, Sacrieur? You can't kill him." Rian looked at her captor, eyes overflowing with contempt.
"Then kill me now. Mortal sins or not, I am not keeping that oath. I will hunt you from the gates of Brakmar to the top of mount Zinit. I will never stop."
This is all your fault, said the voice. She would have listened reasonably if you didn't use her. Use her like the bandits did. Now she will never forgive you. Unless, you take responsibility.
"Rian please. If you give me one minute, I will let you kill me right here and now. Let her go" With a look of beguilement, Eliandra obeyed. Rian immediately got him by the collar, other hand forming cruel talons on her fingers with the tattoo ink.
"I'm listening."
"I swear I didn't kill your father. And I don't blame you for my father's death. You don't believe my words. But earlier, in the grotto... you controlled my mind. Can you do it again? Find the answer. And if you can't, have your revenge. I owe you that much."
The Sacrieur stared right into his eyes. She puckered her lips and something sounded like tearing flesh. She must have bitten her cheeks, thought Zell. She bent, gripping his chin and forcefully kissed him. A protest from Eliandra was drowned by a torrent of blood that forced his way into his mouth. He tried to swallow, but began to choke. The sky turned crimson, the sun but a sliver of red. Waves of blood seemed to converge overhead. He was drowning. The sickening coppery warmth flooded his nostrils, making him suffocate. The last vestiges of light disappeared beneath the crimson tides.
Something grabbed him. A woman's hand, clad in barbed wire. It pulled him out, towards the light. He broke through the surface of the liquid with a gasp and beheld a bloodied angel. Her naked body glistened red, painful spikes adorning her delicate hands. Her wings sent a shower of crimson droplets over the Sram's face.
"Such selfless sacrifice" she said in sing-song. Then pulled him. Through space and time. To a time he did not want to go to. But it was different! It wasn't his memory. He was inside a wagon, as half a dozen Srams converged on a Sacrieur. A young one ran at him, a child screamed DADDY. The Sram looked at him. Then, a flash of red light and three bodies were on the ground. Then they came. A legion of men dressed in bones. They checked the bodies, taking possessions. They went to the wagon, a woman screamed out. One burst through the door and stabbed the child through the chest. And all went dark.
Sobbing woke Zell. Rian Briar clung to his chest, her tears making an uncomfortable wet patch on his shoulder. She pulled back, her cheeks moist with tears. "All my fault" she stuttered. "It was all my fault" He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her.
"Don't you dare blame yourself. Don't you dare. I would have done the same as you. And I can't imagine how your childhood was, all alone. But let's make things right. Let's make some bandits pay. Who is this Sevan Bask and why are you afraid of him?"
"Was" she whispered sternly "not anymore. You don't need to worry about the Emelkans. He took them alive. He needs souls to stay young" A twinge of dread passed through Zell's stomach.
"What the hell is he?"
"A fallen Shushu Guardian"
- 10
- 11
- 12
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The Path to Heroism