The Record of the Saints Caliber (12 page)

By the time Nuriel had rolled back to her feet Ramiel was already on her. She felt the heel of his boot catch behind her own, throwing her off balance. She impacted upon the ground, her back flat against the stone earth. She looked up and saw Ramiel’s gauntleted fist coming straight down at her like a wrecking ball. Her Caliber flared as she threw her arms up to her face, but the impact came right at her chest with a tremendous crack, as if a sledgehammer had hit her.

Although her star-metal armor did not give way, the powerful blow resonated right through it and into her flesh, knocking the wind from her lungs. Her eyes went wide as the air tried to tear its way back into her chest. But down came another blow, and another, Ramiel’s fist like a wrecking ball upon her. She was vaguely aware of the ground cracking beneath her, and as the stars of unconsciousness began to pop before her eyes she could feel her body being driven into the earth.

The sound of Ramiel’s fist upon her chest was now tinny and sharp, the pain dulling as consciousness faded from her, the jolt and spasm of her body more real than the pain caused by each blow. Her eyes rolled up, briefly catching Ramiel’s face. It was twisted in anger, blood dripping from his torn chin, his one topaz eye and the other ruined one looking at her with a type of hatred she had never before seen directed at her. Her eyes continued their journey up and she became aware of Isley’s body laying upon the ground, but the vision was in a strange, obscure, duality and upside-down. The only thing that now seemed real was the voice in her mind telling her ‘just one hit to your face and it will all be over’.

But as that thought rolled in her head she became aware that the pounding upon her chest had stopped. There were voices. Ramiel was barking something, orders maybe? She was surrounded by gleaming metal and she felt her body being jerked around.

Presently Nuriel became aware of a buzzing pain in her wrists. Her arms were behind her. She tried to move them, but her wrists were bound. A vague notion that she was cuffed with runic bindings floated through her mind. She looked around, her eyes rolling in their sockets. There were bolt-throwers pointed down at her.

Suddenly she was jerked and she felt her legs being dragged. She managed to turn her eyes up. Ramiel had her around the collar of her breastplate. He had Isley in his other hand and he was dragging them both toward the tunnel. Nuriel moaned and tried to touch her face but realized once again that she was cuffed. Isley seemed to stir as well. “I…Isley…” she managed.

“Good morning, love,” said Ramiel as he dragged them by their collars. “Time for me to deal with this Celacia of yours.”

Nuriel closed her eyes and groaned. Her Star-Armor felt like a million pounds. She was winded and dizzy and fairly certain that could she remove her breastplate, her chest would be bruised up pretty badly. She concentrated on shining her Caliber, for that would hasten her healing. She was fully aware, however, that had Ramiel wanted to, he could have killed her. He didn’t have to land his blows upon her star-metal breastplate; they could just as easily been placed upon her face.

Nuriel closed her eyes and focused on shining her Caliber. When she opened them again they were in the tunnel, and a long line of knights marched behind Ramiel. The few that were at the head of the legion looked down at Nuriel with disdain on their faces. One scowled and furled his lip. Nuriel looked over at Isley. He was awash in the glow of his Caliber as well. He took notice of her stare and looked over at her, his lips pursed before he managed a faint smile. Nuriel turned her head down.

Ramiel continued to drag them through the tunnel and it soon opened up into the volcanic chamber. He whipped her and Isley around, nearly tossing them into the wall as a number of knights with bolt-throwers broke off and stood guard over them.

“You’re all under arrest!” barked Ramiel as he strode into the chamber. Celacia was standing with her back to him before the giant skull, and the Jerusan knights who had been milling about it all stopped and drew out their swords.

The cavern was strangely dark. Nuriel seemed to recall the churning, volcanic bowels having filled the entire, massive cavern with its ruddy light. Now, however, only an eerie red radiated from the pit, but only enough to discern its perimeter. Many of Celacia’s soldiers even had torches lit. The skull sat cold and encrusted with black ash, an eerie monstrosity in the shadows. However, from its mouth a hot, radiant light emitted and Nuriel realized that from its jaws molten earth still churned as bright and hot as ever.

Celacia turned around to face Ramiel as his knights flooded into the chamber, weapons drawn. Nuriel could tell that many of them were taken aback by the sight of the monstrous skull, but Ramiel alone seemed unfazed by its presence. The Jerusan soldiers began taking up spots behind Celacia with their swords drawn, but Celacia raised a hand and they began to fall back.
Way back.
At her side Nuriel noticed Isley motioning for her with small jerks of his head. She looked at him and he motioned with his eyes at Celacia. She knew what he was trying to tell her. Celacia would put a real quick end to the standoff.

“Saint Ramiel,” chirped Celacia. “So glad you could make it.” She turned her emerald eyes to Nuriel and Isley, then looked back at Ramiel. “Oh good, you didn’t kill them. I’ll go easy on you, but I can’t say the same for all these knights. I really have all the help I need right now.”

“Enough of your arrogance,” barked Ramiel. “Your little tricks might scare men, but not me. I spared your friends for you because you freed me from that pompous prick, Golden Cockerel.” He spat on the ground and then flourished his warhammer. There were a couple dozen knights with bolt-throwers all kneeling in a line with their guns trained on Celacia. The rest were forming up their ranks with their swords at the ready. “Your soldiers are all under arrest, and you, my deadly little love, are coming with me back to Sanctuary with your two little Saints to face justice.”

Celacia smirked. “Love? We hardly know each other.” chirped Celacia as she stood with her back to the giant skull, her black form silhouetted against the fiery glow from the thing’s mouth. “And a trip to Sanctuary seems awfully long for a first date.”

“Cut the crap, woman,” said Ramiel quite firmly. “You’ve had your fun. Time to come along now.”

“You really don’t get it, do you?” said Celacia. She strode forward and all the Dimethican knights drew up their weapons. The kneeling line with bolt-throwers all began to take aim. Isley cast Nuriel a knowing look and she cringed, knowing full well what was coming. She and Isley both shined their Calibers.

“I’ve already told you,” said Celacia. “I’m a foe quite beyond you and this entire army.”

No sooner had the first bolt-thrower roared to life than a powerful wave of purple-black energy exploded forth from Celacia. It seemed to rock the very foundations of the mountain and the walls and floors cracked as the stone was swept over. Like dominoes the Dimethican knights fell, their screams cut short as their weapons and armor corroded and disintegrated into puffs of rust, leaving their withered forms frozen in their deathly, mummified rigor. Neither Nuriel nor Isley were spared from the deathly wave, and despite the bright glow of their Caliber energy, they both felt the terrible pain wash over them.

Nuriel gasped and released a small cry as she cringed against the agony of death. She saw her star-metal armor haze over, as if a hot breath had passed over it. Her white leather bodysuit tightened around her as it withered and cracked ever so slightly. Against clenched eyes she managed to catch a glimpse of Ramiel. He had been brought to his knees against the deathly wave. Like Nuriel and Isley, he was protected by his Caliber energy, but having been unprepared, suffered far more.

Against the far wall Celacia’s own soldiers stood with their backs pressed tightly against the stone, but none of them had been affected. Celacia had only sent her deadly energy forward, and from Ramiel’s feet to as far back as Nuriel could see down the tunnel, was a sea of rusty armor laying motionless upon the ground.

Ramiel got back to his feet, struggling for just a moment, and shook his head to clear it. Celacia strode forward and stopped just short of Ramiel. His flesh seemed a little pale, and his eyes were now wide with an uncharacteristic fear in them, but otherwise he was unscathed.

“You still up for that date?” asked Celacia, smirking at him.

Ramiel scowled, his lip furling. “You’re no Saint. What are you?” he demanded.

Celacia sighed. “It’s a really long story, and to be honest I don’t remember all the details.” Celacia looked around at the sea of dead knights, their faces withered and pale, all of them ghastly mummies clothed in rust. “You’ve got some cleaning up to do.”

Ramiel eyed Celacia with all the fire his soul had to offer and spat upon the ground.

“Yuck!” yelled Celacia in disgust. “You really need to be taught some manners, you know that?”

Ramiel flourished his warhammer. He adjusted his stance so that his heavily armored side faced Celacia.

“Well,” chirped Celacia. “I guess I did promise you a go at me if you beat Nuriel and Isley. Here’s your chance.”

Ramiel looked upon her with contempt, his eyes shifting from her face to her pale hands.

Celacia giggled. “Oh, I don’t usually carry my weapon. It just wouldn’t be fair. Feel free to attack me any time. I’m not quite sure what you think you’re going to do to me with that warhammer though.”

Ramiel roared as he lunged forward with blinding speed, his warhammer a blur as it came down in a heavy arc. In an instant Celacia had her left arm up, catching the crook of the hammer upon her forearm. The star-metal hammer clashed upon Celacia’s armor with tremendous force and the entire mountain seemed to shudder from the impact. Ramiel kept the hammer locked upon Celacia’s arm for a moment. He pushed forward, and Celacia slid back on the dead earth beneath her feet.

Celacia’s emerald eyes beamed at Ramiel. “Is that it?” she asked.

Ramiel looked upon Celacia with a fierce scowl and spat to the side. He flourished his hammer.

“That is so disgusting,” said Celacia. The ground around her began to gray as desiccated dirt and rock spread out in crawling fingers in all directions. Even the air around Celacia seemed to somehow die, as if there was a very staleness to the atmosphere around her.

Ramiel looked down at the dying earth beneath his feet. His glassy-black star-metal boots seemed to take on some sort of haze, as if a warm breath passed over them. He shined his Caliber and a distinct golden aura encompassed him, washing away any trace of that deathly breath. He huffed at Celacia, then turned his head and spat.

Ramiel barely had time to react before the dead earth between him and Celacia cracked and split. Ramiel cried out, his back arching as he was wracked with a sudden and terrible pain. He grit his teeth as he fell to a knee, flaring his Caliber as brightly as he could against the deathly aura that now consumed him.

Nuriel gasped in horror, and felt the hand of Isley gently slip into her own behind her back. Ramiel’s face seemed to change in waves as he shined his Caliber to fight off the effects of Celacia’s terrible aura. In one moment his face was normal, the next a deathly, pale, mummified skull. His appearance rippled and changed, but it was clear to Nuriel that the reflection of death was the one winning out.

Ramiel growled as he placed both hands upon the ground, his muscles tensing in what Nuriel could only think was some hideous rigor of death. He looked up, helpless against the pain, as Celacia casually walked up to him and knelt.

“The next time you spit,” she whispered in his ear. “I might lose my temper and then who knows what might happen to you.”

Ramiel’s head bowed against the pain, her very breath seemed to suck the life from him, turning his ear a sickly purple. Nuriel could see pieces of his leather bodysuit peeling off in decayed strips, beneath which pale, deathly skin now shone. His gauntleted hands clutched at the dying earth beneath him, crumbling through his fingers. He roared out, flaring his Caliber as brightly as he could, and in that second Nuriel saw his flesh and reflection nearly repaired, but he could not sustain it and again the deathly waves rippled through his appearance.

Nuriel suddenly wanted to help him, to end the suffering he surely felt. He could have easily killed her, but instead chose to incapacitate her. Somehow she felt he deserved more than to be toyed with; to either be free from Celacia’s deadly presence or to have his life ended without so much suffering. She struggled to her feet the best she could with her hands bound behind her, and Isley followed suit.

Celacia stepped back and life seemed to wash into Ramiel. He struggled to his feet with a tremendous roar of anger and frustration as his Caliber shined a blinding white. His chest was heaving and his one whole eye pierced Celacia with unimaginable hatred, his Caliber now settling down to a more subtle glow. Nuriel could see that his body was whole and undamaged, but his bodysuit was nothing but decayed strips of peeling, brown leather. His hair and eyes which were once as radiant as polished topaz now seemed dull and lifeless; his flesh was pale and the scruff upon his face was touched with gray and white hair. His Star-Armor was unscathed, for that alone was impervious to death.

He roared out in anger again. Celacia just stood there, smiling at him; mocking him. He bared his teeth and roared out once more. He flung himself forward, his hammer swinging in fluid circles. Celacia quickly moved, ducking each blow in turn as the tremendous force of each impact upon the ground sent shockwaves through the mountain. But she was quick—far quicker than Ramiel—and as he brought his hammer upwards for another strike Celacia swung her left arm out, slicing his face open with the black, metallic fin on her forearm.