IV. He Still Lived

Siegfried says, "Looks Huang'."
[16:56] Siegfried asks, "You built this?"
[16:56] Ashalle says, "Mhm."
[16:56] Siegfried says, "Weird. Reminds me o' back home. I didn't think you'd care about foreign architecture."
[16:57] Siegfried says, "Figured you'd live somewhere...Gehenna-y."
[16:57] Ashalle says, "It's a mixture."
[16:57] Ashalle seats herself upon the cushion, simply dipping her feet into the waters with a soft hum.
(Ashalle)
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[16:58] Siegfried knows that Ashalle is one who is quite...pragmatic. That side of her that dabbles solely in what is amusing or what is fitting or poignant also seems to be there, at times, but largely, she seems just to do things that make the most damn sense.

So he'd come here to make some sense.

"That was my dad's sword," he says bluntly, cutting right to the chase. "I have a better one. I'll give it to you for it."
(Siegfried)
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[17:00]
"No." She finds herself beginning to shift in place. A slow - gentle smile appearing upon her features. "And I won't say no twice." It is a flat warning. Her hand dipping into her pocket...Her gaze narrowing into fine, fuchsia daggers.
(Ashalle)
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[17:06] He's...

Genuinely confused. The blade that he wields is certainly better in combat, as Taiga himself had professed to him upon giving it to him. Weighty, and bejeweled with an orb that besets Drakanites with prophetic visions, Siegfried wields Ryuujin's Might, and presents it before her, in all it's splendor.

The enormous blade is over six feet long, orange crystals running down it's groove, wrapped in leather and baring golden, draconic wings on either side. The orb lodged into it thrums with fire.

"A gehennen artifact, claimed from a Chieftain."

Something she should care infinitely more about.

So why?
(Siegfried)
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[17:13]
"You know, I never really liked Taiga." She says rather flatly. "For someone who was supposed to be about honor and things of that nature...He most certainly lacked that bit." She shrugs her shoulders, her legs kicking back and forth...Not interested within making the trade, clearly. "Perhaps, if I were Ahmir...I would've decided to trade with you. But I don't really care much about the physical value of a weapon. Honestly."

"Either way...If that's what you're here to talk about, then you can turn around and leave. I've no interest in giving something to someone who..." She says, sizing him up. "Is like you." For now, she remains very uninterested. "Good bye, Siegfried." To cut their meeting rather short is rude. But, she's not a very nice person either. For the moment, she rises once more- slipping her feet back into her sandals before nodding.
(Ashalle)
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[17:25] I never really liked Taiga.
I've no interest in giving something to someone who is like you.

Something in him is set off.

It's that very same thing that was set off when Isaac Shimasu had insulted his status. It's the very thing that has dictated the outcome of his entire life up to this point.

Anyone who has followed Siegfried's story up to this point knows of the dozens of ways that he has snapped in situations like these. How he'd risked his life countless times doing nigh-impossible things, and how his body is adorned with scars, how he's lined with the marks of every suicidal thing he has ever done.

---

Taiga allows Siegfried to hold Blessings of Nadir in his hands.

He stares at in awe, at it's sheen, at it's splendor.

---

"Taiga Rowan wasn't lacking in anything, Ashalle, and y'know, I findthat laughable coming from you."

If she wanted to detest his nature, and his father's before him, then he could detest her in equal part. The sword that he'd tried to sell to her is spun once, twice, and then pointed at her, throwing down the gauntlet. Pale blue eyes seem to come to life, color bleeding into them that wells from the soul itself. Pure mana, honed in it's most raw state, is expertly channeled throughout him, elevating his speed to otherworldly proportions.

While she's slipping on her sandals, Siegfried decides to speak the only language that people like Ashalle understood.

In the same way that Taiga Rowan had flung his sword at Emily Bell in Levengard's square, so now does he hurtle Ryuujin's Might at Ashalle, throwing it like a javelin. But he's swift to follow up, and right in its wake is him, otherworldly fast, a fist coming up in a bid to strike her gut.

"You know, everybody deals with grief differently. Some people, they fuck at funerals. Me?

I fight."
(Siegfried)
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[17:31]
Perhaps, she should've taken such a thing seriously. But at this particular moment, she was a little lost within her own grandeur. Her gentle smile beginning to widen into a Cheshire grin. A soft - child-like laugh showing both sincerity and the sadditty that rolls off of her frame. In the worst ways, she couldn't help herself but to laugh at that...To think that she would be lacking. To think that she would lose something such as 'honor' when she was all about that. But Taiga Rowan, on the other hand, never understood what that was like. He didn't possess tact. Nor did he have any understanding to how this world worked.

He was a puppet.

Nevertheless, upon him throwing the blade within her direction - She'd lift the blade of Nadir to block...And the presence of another would've appeared. "Ira." It absorbs the strike that was meant for her as she makes distance...Sandals clicking in tandem with the tumbling body of her small daemon..

"Now you're getting interesting. But let's see how much that mettle of yours pays out." She doesn't miss a beat. Instead, she could already be seen rocking from the balls of her feet to the heel...The sword of Nadir becoming encased in marble as she switches to her own, favored weapon.

"Let's see if you're worth having this."
(Ashalle)
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[17:32]
{LOAD GAME}

[17:41] Fast...

Too much.

He's buffeted by a constant maelstrom of attacks from all sides, being slammed into by a seemingly nonstop onslaught of attacks that leave him rattled, trying to just stay on his feet. Ashalle wields the elements like they were her plaything, encasing him in stone and launching a volley of otherworldly attacks at him that showcase just how vast the gap in strength between them was.

But that doesn't stop him for trying. It doesn't stop him from trying to turn the fight to his advantage, backpedaling, leaping off of furniture and rock and vanishing and reappearing within her blind spots...

But it just doesn't seem to matter.

She's too much for him.

Dropping to one knee after a particularly brutal volley, he slides back against her tile, Ryuujin's might embed into the hardwood floor. His eyes alight with a devilish look, and there are no words exchanged.

Siegfried remembers atop the mountain, with Tobias.

---

There is nothing for one who hesitates, Tobias.

If you'd gain aught, use fear as the compass. Run not from fear, but to it.

---

And so, he continues to fight.
(Siegfried)
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[17:42] She's on fire. Mana circuits burning into her flesh when she's at play. The feverish laughter spilling from her lips only proving the side effects of her own preparations. If it weren't for the swell of pride - she would swear that her body would be torn into two for housing such legendary mana. Within it's own right...It is both devastating and shaking, but not as surprising as the male that she had seen. After all...She had felt this power before. She had seen this speed before...But it most certainly was not something that she could handle.

"..."

Even when the hilt of his blade crashes against her features. When lips are bloodied and her porcelain features may seem to break from contact....All becomes healed. All remains perfected save for the blood the stains her mocha flesh. "...I would say that we've got...Something in common.." What is meant to be gentle gasps comes out in heaving breathes. The amusement flourishing within her own weakened frame...Her trembling form soon coming into a full stand once more..

"But you're too pathetic. You're just like him...Lost. Weak. Alone." And yet, even with these words...She still moves forth...The promise of darkness and dread found within the way this pride swells within her body. The dress-like kimono billowing from the heated mana that rolls through her frame..

"This blade doesn't belong to your family anymore. From here on out, it's mine." She stands tall once more...The very building rumbling...Her smile turning into a dark, sadistic grin.

"Kneel."
(Ashalle)
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[17:54] Stand. Fight. Bleed. The throttle of her heart is the one thing that keeps her standing in moments such as this. Where a single blow would cause her vision to flutter and tunnel...Where she stands carefully, brilliant light shielding her frame - the sheer impact of his blade sending cracks through it...Until it finally shatters like glass, opening her guard once again. And yet...Despite such a thing, there is happiness. Fuchsia eyes widening in excitement before he clashes with her frame once again - bodies tumbling, the world shifting about as she makes her way through the dividers of the room..

"Haah...haah...haha!" Heaving breathes turn into gentle laughter...Bloodied fingers grasping upon either side as she suddenly launches herself once more. But this time, she would capture himwithin her trap. When he moves too close - hands of marble would flourish from the wooden planks...Wrapping around his being as she twirls behind him. A single - thorned vine would wrap around his neck....Her sandal pressing into the square of his back as she pushes him harshly into the daemon's waterblast..

Here...He would begin to be drowned...The woman choosing 'this' method of torture rather than what she'd normally deal with. "Don't ever think of that fucking insect as anything close to me." Venom spills from her lips. "Out of all of the times I save his pathetic, worthless life - he thought that it'd be a good idea to fight me and my own." Vicious. Sick. Her heel grinds against his back as she pushes him forward.

"Even claiming him as a father makes you just as much of a selfish failure as he was. After all, what kind of 'father' would abandon Niklaus like that? What kind of 'father' would go and fight a battle he knew he could not win?" After all..

Men in this world could not compare to her trained soldiers. They were trained from the ground up to fight- they were built for this...But despite such, in the midst of her speech...He'd be able to feel her grip upon her whip growing weak. He could easily slip out of it and make his escape as she taunts and 'verbally' berates him.

"Pathetic."
(Ashalle)
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[18:10] And yet, he opts not to.

There is nowhere for him outside of this room. There is no world in which he could allow the woman who claimed his father's murderer as one of her own to taunt him, berate him, belittle him, and continue to fight. He tugs at his neck as he struggles, desperate to breathe, desperate to move, desperate to fight.

His eyes close, and his world fades to black.

---

Siegfried is drowning. Water fills a room of pitch blackness, and Siegfried wades through the tides.

Even now, he still tries to fight.

---

"Shut...UP!!"

The lad slips just free from her grip, and then balls up his fist. His face is a mess, as is his body, blood, bruises, and contusions lining it. Siegfried tries to swing at her, one last time...

But his arm fails him, and the blow that he lands on Ashalle wouldn't even be enough to move her head:

https://66.media.tumblr.com/d853dd21f49c23b3630bb85f416c998f/tumblr_mgxzy1NIgY1r72ht7o1_500.gif

The boy knew all along how this would end. He'd held no illusions that he could win this battle.

So why?

---

Taiga's face was cemented into his mind. Whenever he closed his eyes, whenever he tried to move on, he was unable. To thing that they touted about the one symbol of Taiga's will, that which he'd prized, that it would fall into their hands...

Siegfried had run off, toward Briar, unable to even sleep, knowing that he had to do something.

---

"I won't...leave...won't..."

When they meet eyes, she'd see in his that even though his body had failed him, his magic did not respond to him, and there was nothing he could do...

He was too much of a Fool to bow down and accept his fate.
(Siegfried)
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[18:18]
This reminds you of someone, doesn't it? Images of Cordelia flicker within her mind. Moments - where she imagined how the dhampir would've begged for her family heirloom back. Moments - where she would've imagined that perhaps, in some way, she'd beg to have something so small in value to be like this. In the end though, what more could possibly be done about the Fool that does not move against this threat. What more could be said about the boy that poses as a Stalwart despite being so small in comparison.

Even when he lands hits against her form...She cannot help but to smile briefly. Her hand reaching upward - lightly pressing upon the heart of the man. "Then I'll have to make you leave." In the end, hands of marble slowly climb up his features once again-tearing the house apart, ripping it into shambles as she aims to step out of the room.

"I don't have much patience for this. Unlike Ahmir and his situation with Cordelia...You'll see that I..Actually can't stand it." But she doesn't seem to mind. Where his body failed him. Where his magic would take him...It might be far. But it won't be enough.

"No more games, Siegfried." Her voice says while the earthen magic carries him from inside of the house.
(Ashalle)
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[18:23] He is removed from the home. He is taken outside. Siegfried, for the first time in a very, very long time, is defeated so utterly, so totally, that he can't even muster up a resistance. It's like a child fighting their parent.

The divide is so great it was like he'd just attempted to rip the sun from the skies and hold it in his palm.

Fighting Isaac Shimasu had put him at the brink of death.

Utterly failing to reclaim his father's sword made him wish for it.

And yet...

As always, pathetic as he was, he still lived.
(Siegfried)
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