[center][b]Joy & Christopher[/b][/center]

Joy didn’t like the thought that Cyril was going to face Gartian alone, even though she believed that perhaps her riling had something to do with his decision to face the dog alone—or perhaps it was this belief itself that filled her with unease. She had failed to protect two Serios already, and the idea that she wouldn’t even be near the third, let alone that perhaps she had stirred up his lust for revenge in the first place, weighed heavily on her conscience. Yet she refused to speak up her dissent. For one, she didn’t want to dampen her King’s spirits before his battle. Likewise, she knew that he was going to win. It didn’t matter how good of a fighter Gartian was; Cyril had been trained by one of the best damn sword fighters in the world, and he had a few more talents to cover the areas where her training couldn’t. 

Okay, so maybe she didn’t like it because she wanted to be the one to cut Gartian down. She knew it was a shameful thought; Cyril deserved the right more than her. She would be with the others as they attempted to destroy the Advisor. She would make certain that their attempt did not end in failure. It had been the Advisor’s creation that had devoured Kori, and Joy’s own desire for vengeance would serve as her fuel for the fight. Yet they did not have much to fight, at least not until they made it to the Oasis. A blessing, certainly. She wanted to Gartian and the Advisor dead; she felt no need to shed the blood of soldiers whose only difference from her was being born on the H’kelan side of the border. 

Yet not all soldiers were content to surrender, and Gartian still had a strong force surrounding him when their armies engaged. Blind loyalists, guilty by association; they had seen the dark forces Gartian was mingling with and had stuck with it. Repulsive subhumans, completely without moral, or at least that’s what Joy told herself as she pierced through them with her blade like a needle through cloth. It made things easier that way, instead of realizing them for the fools they likely were—would she have stood with Olain if he had used tactics that were so reprehensive? Now she was uncertain, but back then the answer was as clear as day; she had been a fool, too. 

She felt no pleasure in cutting down the foot soldiers. Fighting in battles versus fighting in duels was completely different. In a battle, it was largely nothing but uncoordinated chaos and brutal animalistic instincts. Joy reasoned that luck (be it good or bad) was the largest outcome in who walked away at the end of the day once the fighting shifted from the grand scale of formations and outmaneuvering to direct conflict and hand-to-hand. It was unlike a duel in all ways. Duels were personal and success was determined by pure skill, but physical and mental. It was an artform, whereas this was taking paint and flinging it like a toddler in the middle of a tantrum.

But it was her duty to a cut a path to the Advisor, so she did just that, twisting and turning like she was performing a well-choreographed dance of death and destruction. Her speed was back, and she was thankful for that, but she could tell that reflexes alone were not going to be enough to deal with the Advisor and that deadly whip of hers. It was an unconventional yet clearly effective weapon, although Joy doubted it was any ordinary whip. She saw as Christopher and Jinn traded blows with the Advisor, each one dealing blows that would’ve killed an ordinary human twice over to the Advisor, who seemed to merely shrug them off as she repeatedly bested Christopher and incapacitated Jinn. Joy could do nothing for the elf even if she made it to him. [i]Where’s Diane when you need her.[/i]

Joy took to studying the Advisor’s movements as she dipped between friends and foes, deflecting blows and returning them almost mechanically. She doubted she was quicker than the woman’s whip, and although she would probably be able to get a hit in she knew that she would not be able to take it. Unlike Christopher, she didn’t have a Divine stitching her together every time she made a misstep and got wounded. Personally, she thought it was a good problem to have; it forced her to have some self-preservation. 

[i]Still, I wouldn’t mind being immortal just this once.[/i]

She sighed in frustration. These kind of fights were simply beyond her. Place her up against a person with a sword and ninety-nine out of a hundred times she would probably best them now that her knee was fixed, but the Advisor was no normal person. Even up against a mage she still felt that she might have an edge (they always seemed to be so full of themselves, those spellweavers, with their hand waving and their mumbo-jumbo), but the Advisor was no normal mage. She gritted her teeth. She was in over her head; she was outclassed. It was as simple as that, really: her foe was just too strong for her to be of any use. It’d be suicide to fight her.

And then she remembered Karin’s words: [i]"This is not a blade meant to be used while skinning animals. It is not a blade to be used when you are fighting your lessers or your equals. Only resort to using this blade when you fight someone stronger than yourself, and it might be able to keep you alive."[/i]

Her hand fell onto the hilt of the dagger the Lady of Demon’s had bestowed upon her and she drew it from its dark sheath. She had yet to truly examine the blade that was as dark like onyx, but she knew it was the only edge she had on the Advisor. She knew that she probably only had one chance to strike the Advisor with it, so she had to make it count. For that, she was thankful for Christopher, knowing that she could count on his reckless assault to distract the Advisor. She edged herself closer to the two combatants, trying to keep herself out of the Advisor’s direct line of sight. To telegraph her movement’s would be fatal; she had to catch her by surprise. Once Christopher moved, she would strike.  

Christopher happened to be straightening as Joy approached, and both he and the Advisor didn't seem to be aware of her approach. However, when the strange dagger was drawn, his eyebrows furrowed slightly, as if he realized that something had been done, somewhere, even if he didn't know what it was. The Advisor, however, visibly tensed, and her eyes flicked back and forth, actively on the search. Christopher's gaze happened to be the one to find Joy first, and when he did so his eyebrows rose slightly; a mistake he realized quickly, one he tried to rectify by immediately rushing forwards, no matter how disadvantageous it may have been.

Unfortunately, the Advisor had already been alarmed. As Christopher charged her she whirled, lashing out with her whip in Joy's direction. It lashed the ground a few yards in front of her, striking in a long lash that carved through the earth and left jagged teeth pointing upwards as fragments fell from above, and black screamed upwards in tall pillars. Her next move was to bring the whip back forwards, towards Christopher, and the weapon wrapped around his waist, carving deeply as he yelled.

In the next moment he was yanked off his feet, brought towards her with ease as her free hand lashed out, striking him across the face when he reached her, taking him down to the ground as she brought the whip up to begin striking at him repeatedly, even as he struggled to block with his gauntlets; in response, she began to focus her strikes upon his legs, where he couldn't properly block.

Joy hadn't seen the look that betrayed her sneak attack to the Advisor, but she did see the woman twist around and whip the ground in front of her. It gave her enough time to retreat from the shower of rocks and the pillars of black that cleft through the earth relatively unscathed, but it put her further away from her adversary. By the time she closed the distance the woman in black was already shredding Christopher's legs with her whip; immortal or not, Joy felt for the boy's suffering. Maybe if they made it out of this she'd teach him how to properly evade an attack, because she knew that Paladin sure as hell wouldn't bother with any useful lessons. Clutching her sword in one hand and Karin's dagger in the other, she dashed at the Advisor as her whip fell on Christopher again and again.

The plan was a simple one, but sometimes simplicity was all you needed. She was certain that the Advisor would turn around on her and try to stop her assault; for her part, Joy would make a feint with her sword to try and keep the woman's whip busy and give her enough of an opportunity to close the gap so that she could bury the dagger in deep. If she had to take a hit to do it, then she'd have to take a hit. It wouldn't be her first scar, although she felt that it could perhaps be her last. 

Joy's plan was quite sound, but unfortunately the Advisor was someone (or something, at this point) that would continue to defy reason. Even as the Barcean woman continued her approach, the Advisor continued to strike at Christopher despite his best (and failed) efforts to scramble away, and it was only when Joy got surprisingly close did the Advisor strike at her.

The sword was ignored entirely; instead, the Advisor lashed out with her foot towards the hand that held the dagger. Catching Joy behind the wrist with her heel, it was a simple matter to lock her shoe around it and twist violently, in order to send the dagger flying away; with it, Joy's wrist snapped, and from her broken wrist she was then flung to a ground, the Advisor turning her body and sharply lowering her leg to do so.

Once more the whip raised, but it didn't had a chance to fall. Waiting for a moment just like this, Christopher suddenly lunged, thrashing out with his body to grab the Advisor by both ankles, and then yanked her off them. As she snarled as she went down, he gave a suddenly, violent yank to throw his own body forwards, ending up on top of the Advisor. Once there, both fists came up, to slam down into her head, but after that burst of electricity no more came.

Instead, he suddenly choked as her hand shot up, grabbing him by the throat tightly, his face immediately going red. Back she forced him, ending up over him, and with both hands tightened her grip. The whip laid forgotten near them, and Joy was forgotten instead as she turned all of her rage upon the much younger Divineborn.

Pain. She was used to pain. It still didn't stop her from shouting or from letting the dagger fling from her grasp as her wrist snapped like a stalk of celery. Her vision went red with pain as she was tossed to the ground, defeated and ready for the deathblow that never came as Christopher dove upon the Advisor. Joy didn't waste anytime wallowing in pain, forcing herself up to her feet as she scanned the area to see where the dagger had fallen. She didn't immediately spot it, her eyes catching on another black object: the Advisor's whip. She kicked it away from the struggling pair, hopefully sending it far from the Advisor's reach, and then wheeled back towards the duo. Christopher had lost his advantage and was in despite need of help. Grumbling, Joy drew her sword back with her one good hand and drove it at the Advisor's back. 

The blade struck its mark and sunk in surprisingly easily, with the Advisor twisting around in pain and giving an inhuman sort of screech as the blade pierced all the way through. Her hand snapped up, and it caught Joy across her chest, lifting her off her feet with ease and sending her flying backwards. The Advisor's hand then went up, reaching to her own back to snap the blade in half at the point where it met flesh, allowing the lower half with the hilt to drop before she then reached back around to in front of herself, ripping out the top half with a sudden movement and preparing to throw it at Joy.

Thankfully, it never managed to reach Joy as Christopher's fist suddenly shot up, striking her across the face and sending cracks spider webbing through her mask, electricity bouncing along. Her hand suddenly shot down, swinging the broken half of the blade down into Christopher's shoulder, carving deeply as he cried out, before he suddenly choked once more as her grip enclosed around his throat fully once again.

Just to the side of Joy the dagger gleamed.

Joy saw it, the black hilt and blade, from the corner of her eye as she laid on her back gasping for air. She didn't even have to think; she was already struggling once again up to her feet. Her one good hand grabbed the dagger once she finally found her balance, and she began to, yet again, close the distance between her and the fighting pair. She could tell that she was moving slower and could hear the ragged breaths coming from her mouth, where a faint taste of copper lingered on her tongue. Her hand gripped around the dagger so hard that the hilt would leave an impression in her glove, and she held it with a reverse grip. There would be no flashiness to her strike, nor any finesse; she just hoped that she was right about the peculiarities of the blade. She was within reaching distance of the Advisor now. She rose her hand high and then dove the blade down, all of her body weight behind the strike. Joy intended to knock the Advisor off of balance, hopefully off of Christopher, and then she would rip and tear with the dagger until one of them stopped moving. 


The plan worked, just not in the way Joy expected it. With her focus so intent on Christopher, by the time she realized that Joy was standing once again and right on top of her, it was too late to properly defend herself. As her eyes widened and she released Christopher's throat, all she could do was turn slightly as Joy's hand came down-

And then met no resistance, sending Joy falling down to the ground next to the two Divineborn hard. In her hand she held no dagger, just a hilt; the blade was gone, and wasn't even broken. It had simply detached upon sinking into her left shoulder, the blade slowly beginning to sink in even further as red cracks suddenly appeared through the blade.

There was then an explosion of red energy, not unlike the one Cyril had released at the site of the execution before, but on a much smaller scale and in a concentrated pillar. Shrieking, the Advisor staggered back, trying to grab at the blade as the energy began to crackle along her shoulder, slowly dissolving it even as the blade sunk further.

With no other choice, the hand on the opposite side of the Advisor's body clenched, black suddenly enveloping it before she slammed it against her own shoulder, where the blade had disappeared. There was a screech from the black itself as, suddenly, the blade tore from her body out the back of her shoulder blade, still spewing red as it clattered along the ground and began to break into pieces. A gaping hole towards her back accompanied the smaller wound she had made with herself on the front, the black sticking there, clinging...

And then, as Christopher began to sit up and then stand, her gaze snapped towards the both of them. The black around her hand suddenly grew exponentially, and Christopher swore as he suddenly flung himself towards Joy, even as the Advisor thrust her hand forwards:

[b]"FUCK-!"[/b]

A wave of black roared forward, washing over any soldier of either side unfortunate enough to still be nearby the brutal combat. It crashed into Christopher as he threw his arms out, which sent him flying directly back into Joy with a nasty crunch before the two of them were taken off their feet, sent flying back yards. When they landed (with him more than a little on top of her), he quickly rolled away, tearing away his jacket and shirt with the black that clung to it like a dead flame, and trying to claw away what still clung to his torso with his gauntlets.

[b]"Shit, fuck- Vesta you still alive?!"[/b]

"If she is," she muttered, trying to claw herself into a sitting position. Thanks to Christopher, none of the viscous black goop had clung to her body. She had heard a second crunch after landing; it had been the sound of her bow snapping in two. Not that it mattered, really. She wasn't going to be doing any shooting with one good hand. 

"Bitch broke all of my weapons."

Already her eyes were scanning for another weapon; any dead soldier's blade would do. She saw the reflection of steel and pushed herself up so that she could walk to it, but instead of standing she fell to the ground once more and rolled onto her shoulder. Still, that wouldn't stop her, and she tried again with a similar result. Fine. She'd crawl then; excruciating inch by excruciating inch. Her hand wrapped around the hilt of the blade, half of the sword dissolved away by the black; a broken sword for a broken soldier. It didn't matter. She forced herself to stand and managed to hold herself up this time as she limped slowly towards the Advisor. She knew it was a suicidal idea, but she'd fight until she was red of tooth and nail if she had to as long as that was what it took to avenge Olain's daughter. 

The moment for revenge wouldn't come then, unfortunately, at least not for Vesta. The Advisor was in a fury of her own, so angry that she was gasping for air with each breath. He shoulders were hunched, her entire body tensing, and Christopher only had a moment to shout, "WATCH OUT!" before the Divineborn threw both of her hands out.

Her scream was loud, and more screams rose in a chorus to join her as a pillar of black erupted around her, stretching high into the sky. With the screams came a blast of air, so strong that for yards around her it flattened the ground, crushing it into a smooth disc all around her. Beyond the circle that was around ten or so yards in diameter, everything loose on the ground was sent flying backwards; weapons, rubble, bodies, and the still living.

Christopher and Vesta were among those, and once again they were sent even further back, crashing along the ground, Christopher coming to a slumped over stop afterwards.

Joy felt her body slam against the ground, a wetness on her face that she couldn't determine if it was the mud or her blood. Her vision was fogged by darkness on her peripheries, occasionally dipping into pure black before she forced her eyes to reopen. She clawed at the dirt in an impossible effort to drag herself towards the Advisor, her fingers of her one good hand no longer responding to her will. Darkness overtook her vision again as her body went limp and she slipped out of consciousness.