Child of Death - REVIEW THIS STORY

Written by KazeRogue
Last updated: 05/13/2007 12:19:09 PM

Chapter 3

The woman looked at her handiwork, then took one of the blood red roses and moved it a bit to the right. Arranging the flowers, her accuracy was reminiscent of that needed when creating a spiderweb, as if she were a predator rather than a woman who decorated her room for aesthetic reasons. But she esteemed perfection in every part of her life, be it her rooms, her work or her appearance.

Without a preceding knock, her door was opened and she heard heavy footsteps. She didn’t have to turn to see that it was the highlord again.

"Have you heard of your protegée yet," he asked, not bothering with a greeting.

"Not yet" she answered, a smile turning her amazingly beautiful face even more irresistible.

"That doesn’t seem to bother you in the slightest!" The Lord yelled at her, untouched by her beauty. She was as untouched by his anger and buried her face in the roses she was carrying, deep inhaling their scent, still smiling. As she answered though, her voice was as cold as ice.

"No, it doesn’t. I know about my trainee’s abilities and I have faith in them."

The Highlord sighed, not having any other possibility but trusting her judgement in this case for now. If she failed, he’d have three heads instead of only the Visioner’s.

"Fine then, what about the other one?"

The woman’s smile widened.

"It is being dealt with at this very moment."

Remy LeBeau was so bored. Okay, maybe he had said that he was happy that he could stay out of the fight and thus the real action, but calling this a mission was ridiculous. For three days, he had only seen grass and trees and stones and more trees. Not to forget the blisters on his soles. And more trees. If only there had been somebody to talk to. Slowly, he even wished his enemies to show up and try another one of their tricks on him again, just for the distraction. When his thoughts had arrived at this point he heard the hounds’ wild barking.

"Me and my big mouth..." he said while running to the chasm from where the sounds emanated to see how big his lead was. When he looked down from his elevated position, he was surprised to see that the hounds and the soldiers following them weren’t looking for him. They were hunting down a kid that was running for its life, but had no chance of escaping dogs trained in the Highlord’s kennels.

Remy’s eyes followed the path in front of the boy and sucked in a breath. The crevice would end in front of a stone wall too high to climb soon! He swore under his breath. He was no hero, but he had once seen a man being torn apart by these hounds just because he had dared to steal from their master, a lieutenant from Lehnsherr’s troops, which really was not a sight he’d like to repeat.

As fast as he could he ran parallel to the kid towards the end of the crevice and unrolled the rope that Ororo had given him to complete the proper wandering equipment. When the kid couldn’t run any further and tried desperately to climb up the even rock face, he tied one end of the rope around a tree and threw the other end down to the kid, which took it quickly and climbed up with astonishing ease.

After he had packed away his rope again, he urged the kid on his feet.

"Quick now, they won’t take long to find another way up here." He winced at the deafening sound of the hounds barking after their lost prey.

"Then we should get going, red-eye." Amazed, Remy turned to see a panting but familiar face in front of his.

"The apple thief," he sighed resignedly.

It was unfair. He was supposed to be the hero, the savior of little apple thieves in peril - though he’d prefer a damsel in distress anytime - and here he was following the orders of a dirty street rat brat. But even though he hated to admit it, things were better since he had met the boy. Being a native to the streets of the biggest town in the country, there was little he knew about trivial skills like making a fire - at least in less than twenty minutes, his personal record even with the flintstones Ororo had given him - or knowing which plant was edible or even tasty. At least now, considering his food hadn’t been planned to last for two persons.

So he did what the brat told him, hard as it may be, while the kid took care of the rest. They hadn’t had the chance to talk yet, needing all their breath to flee through the deepest woods and rivers to get the hounds off their trail. But now, in front of a warming fire, it was time for answers.

"So, why were the soldiers after you," Remy asked when they’d sit down to eat.

"Creed doesn’t take kindly if you escape him," the boy shrugged, stuffing a large slice of bread into his mouth.

"You really wanna tell me that they sent an army and the best hounds after you just because you pissed off Creed," Remy asked, his natural suspicion kicking in.

The boy looked up, a serious expression on his young face. "They weren’t looking for me."

"Oh," Remy answered and it was the last thing he said for a long time.

"What’s your name," Remy asked when they started walking again. They had agreed that they’d stay together for now, because the boy’s survival skills and Remy’s superior height and strength made a perfect fit. And he couldn’t keep calling the boy ’brat’ or ’apple thief’, could he?

"Rogue" the boy muttered without looking up.

"That’s not a name," Remy snorted.

"Well, it’s the only one I have!" Rogue jumped up and stomped away, eyes blazing.

A few moments later, Remy had caught up.

"Hey, if I said something wrong, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you."

Rogue looked up and for a brief instant Remy could see a pain in his eyes that betrayed a depth in his his character that contradicted his smart-ass remarks and devil-may-care attitude - something that reminded him of himself. But the moment passed and Rogue’s expression was blank when he told his story:

"I don’t know my real name. My foster mother found me when I was an infant, my real parents seem to be dead. With her people, it’s habit to name children after their character traits. She found Rogue appropriate. I owe her my life - several times. She taught me how to survive, like making a fire or finding soemthing to eat," he added with a smirk to Remy.

"It’s a shame she didn’t teach you how to defeat Lehnsherr’s soldiers all by yourself," Remy shot back. A second later, he found himself sprawled on the floor, Rogue’s foot resting on his chest.

"A real pity I can’t handle myself," he said with an even voice, moved away his foot and turned to walk as if nothing had happened.

"I noticed," Remy muttered under his breath while standing up. Rubbing his aching backside, he followed the boy that had already disappeared into the woods.

"Do you really think this is such a good idea," Rogue asked frowning. "If you’re playing such a big role in the fate of the world, Lehnsherr will have his soldiers all over the country looking for you."

Remy shrugged. Since they had decided to travel together for now, he had told Rogue the whole story about the children and the Visioner. The boy had a right to know what he was getting himself into if he stuck by his side. Not that Remy had the impression that Rogue believed a single word of his story...

"I’ve been on the road for what seems like a lifetime. I want normal food and a room with a roof to sleep in," he answered somewhat belatedly.

"But a pub? This is the first place they’ll be looking for us," Rogue retorted.

"Not here. They don’t know that we’re heading for the mountains, since it’s the most illogical direction to head when you’re on the run. The swamps would be a way better route for criminals on the run. Now come on, or stay behind. I’m going in." Remy quickly walked through the thinning line of trees and entered the shabby hut. After a moment, Rogue sighed, then hurried after him.

Inside, the boy was taken aback by the intensity of the smell, a mixture of beer, fried fat and men that hadn’t seen water for way too long. Strangely, Remy had the ability to blend in perfectly, presumably since he had grown up in locations like this, while he was mocked due to his young age.

LeBeau had already taken a seat at one of the rotten tables, a beer in front of him. The landlord’s daughter just brought him a slice of bread and some meat, and Rogue could see him flirting with her. He strode towards the table, rudely pushing the young girl out of the way and sat down opposite of Remy.

"I’ll take the same," he ordered and waved the girl away. Remy rolled his eyes, but made no comment. Obviously, he didn’t think of it as a big loss.

Rogue eyed the jug sceptically. "Beer? Not the wisest choice in case we’re spotted. I’m not eager to carry you when I have to run for my life."

"You won’t have to, kid. These men to your left are woodcutters from nearby. Today’s payday and they want to have some fun before they return to their dull lives. That old tramp there in the corner just wants to be left alone and the peasant buying beer will leave in the next five minutes anyway." Rogue was stunned. Remy had said all this without breaking eye contact with the boy. And now that he looked at it through different eyes, he saw the excellent choice that LeBeau had made with their table. He could see the whole room without drawing attention and he was close enough to the door to leave immediately, while he couldn’t be spotted from the entrance instantly.

Remy grinned. "You may be able to survive in the woods, but I spent the better part of my life in places like this and I know what I do. And the beer, well, if we wouldn’t drink, we’d draw attention. But believe me, I can drink more than that watery piss before I lose my .. ability .. to walk..."

But obviously he had lost his ability to speak because his voice trailed off as something else caught his attention and left him staring at the entrance.

A young woman had entered the pub, the hood of her cape barely covering her beautiful, delicate features and golden hair. Her panting let her breasts rise and fall in a fast rhythm. Her full lips opened to allow a tiny, rose-colored tongue lick over them nervously. And big breasts. Delicate fingers removed her cape and showed off a silken clad dream of a female figure. And big breasts. Rogue gulped and forced his eyes off the woman.

She instead, had already spotted their table and came towards them purposefully. Her decision was presumably made not only by the fact that Remy was the best-looking man in the pub, but also the one who seemed the least drunk.

"Excuse me, Mister, could you please tell me where I can find the local farrier," she asked in a smoky voice that would have fit better in a bedroom. "My horse started to limp and I am expected at home tonight."

"I’m sorry, Mylady," Remy answered, kissing her hand, his nonchalance not betraying if he was as impressed by her entrance as the the stunned drunks around him. "But this late in the evening, you will not find any help with your horse. But if you’d like to stay here over the night, I’ll be happy to look after your horse myself in the first light of the morning."

Rogue couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Give them a little female incentive and men forget all caution. And of course, the women fell for the unexpected charms.

"Oh, I could maybe stay a little, but I should really be at home tonight. My mother worries so easily, you see?" Her smile and the hungry look in her violet eyes spoke another language, but the nonverbal flirting was rudely interrupted by the landlord. Trying to be helpful to his beautiful customer, he offered that he’d send his daughter to bring the farrier.

"Oh, that is very sweet of you, sir. Maybe I could stay here at your table to wait?" she actually mangaged to never take her attention off Remy while speaking to the landlord. The young man offered her a seat and waved the landlord away.

With a sigh, Rogue stood up. "I have to pee." With a last glance towards the woman who looked at him condescendingly before returning her eyes to Remy, he left the hut.

Outside, Rogue slumped on the floor, leaning against the shaky wall of the hut. "When are you gonna tell him, girl," she asked herself. Her gaze fell to a puddle next to her and she looked at her reflection in the now rapidly fading light. Nothing she saw was in any way comparable to the features of the woman that now sat next to Remy, or at any of the other women she knew. It was almost too easy for her to pretend to be a boy, her face too angular, her figure skinny.

She hadn’t really planned to enlighten Remy about her true gender, even though it became harder and harder to find excuses to disappear if she had to follow her body’s needs. But when she had seen him with that personification of female, she had for the first time in her life envied another woman for her looks and the attention she got with them. Not that she’d want to win back Remy’s attention, that had gotten on her nerves those last days anyways. That boy was so suspicious. She should be happy that finally something else occupied his mind. Yeah, great, she thought.

When Rogue reentered the pub, she was instantly greeted by the rich laughter of the blonde lady. Rolling her eyes, she went back to the table, but her seat was taken by the woman. Rogue grabbed her jug, careful to spill some of her beer over the blonde’s forearm, but ignoring her indignant expression.

"I’ll go sit at the bar," she told Remy, but he didn’t even listen. Frowning, she made her way to the bar and tried her best to ignore the couple in her back. Surprisingly, the beer seemed to help with that, and even though Remy had called it ’watery piss’, she started to feel it’s effects. Dizzily, she looked at the ceiling and wondered about the woodwrok there. She liked that wood, it was dark and made her feel comfortable. If only it would stop moving.

Deciding that this was the ultimate sign that she should get some sleep, Rogue turned around, slowly, to tell Remy that she would do exactly that. But he wasn’t there. The blonde was gone as well. For a moment, Rogue stared at the deserted table, not exactly sure what that was supposed to mean, until she felt hot anger rising in her. How DARED he? Their lives were at stake, being hunted by the soldiers, and this <i>bastard</i> had nothing better to do than crawl into some aristocratic pants?

The anger cleared her head enough that she could get out of the pub and over to the stable without crashing into something. She could already hear a faint giggling from inside and already expected what she saw when opening the gates. The blonde lay in a pile of hay, he dress pushed up all the way to her hips to reveal slim, ivory legs. Remy leaned over her, only wearing his pants, kissing her nack while she caressed his bare chest.

"Please explain to me again why exactly we should stay low profile," Rogue demanded stridently, anger emanating from her almost visibly. A curse, and then his head was lifted from the hay with dissheveled hair and unusual eyes blazing with fury. Surprisingly, it was the woman who spoke first

"Such a pity. And here I thought I could have some fun before going to work." Confused, Remy turned around only to be faced with a vicious looking knife. "Don’t take it personal," the blonde said with a sigh. "You were really fun." Her hand moved forward so quickly that rogue could only guess the motion, but Remy’s uncanny reflexes kicked in and he somehow managed to evade the stab.

Obviously, the assassin wasn’t used to failure. She scowled and jumped after him, but the thief had spent most of his young life on the street in fights like that: unequal and downright dirty. His experiences with knifings also came in handy now - he managed to evade every attack, while looking for a weapon, himself. The woman was to skilled with her knife that he would have dared to jump at her and try to take it away from her. He probably would have ended up dead had he tried.

But then, he was distracted from a strange sound at the next to the gates. He managed a quick look only to see Rogue vomiting on the floor. He returned his attention to his opponent only to see that she had been distracted by Rogue as well. He used the opportunity to hit her so hard that her head crashed into the stable’s wall and she dropped, dead or unconcious, he couldn’t tell.

Finally, Remy let go of the breath he had held all that time and hurried to Rogue’s side, who had just stopped throwing up.

"Are you alright," he asked, not knowing whether he should be mad, relieved or amused at the boys interference. "Guess so," was the somewhat mumbled answer, and Remy shoved Rogue out of the stable.

"What are you doing," she moaned, one hand clutching her head, the other one cramped over her stomach. "Getting out of here fast before they find the lady in there. Or who do you think they’re gonna believe?" Rogue tried to keep up with her companion’s speed while also trying to keep the rest of her stomach’s content where it belonged

"Geez, these children of yours really know how to do the good life style," Rogue commented cynically when they climbed over the sharp edges of the mountain where the child of fire was supposed to live. Remy sighed. Rogue hadn’t stopped snapping at him since the incident with Belladonna - as she had introduced herself to Remy when they had been alone. But he probably deserved that for being so stupid. He used to be suspicious, even when a beautiful woman was concerned, but since he travelled with Rogue, he had relaxed his natural caution. And since when did he let his pants make his decisions? That wasn’t like him at all! Must be his frustration with the events taking control of his life.

Just when he opened his mouth to reply, they were ambushed. soundlessly, the attackers were upon them, jumping of the branches of the few trees left in this height, leaving hideouts behind rocks or rising from the stone beneath them, shedding off the stone-imitating clothes they’d been covered with. Even though Remy was surprised that he hadn’t noticed them, even in the twilight of the rising dawn, his uncanny reflexes saved him a second time that night and he whirled his staff around to fend off the attackers aproaching him from every site.

A quick glance to the left told him that Rogue was holding up as well, crouching in a fighting stance that reflected years of practice. The two would have probably been able to hold themselves for a while, had the floor beneath them not buckled suddenly, activating the hidden traps and leaving them hanging headlong from a tree. Their attackers lost no time tying them up nicely and carrying them off.

Rogue couldn’t remember ever having been so mad. And everything was LeBeau’s fault! If she hadn’t still been fuming at his stupidity for endangering them both at the pub, and if she hadn’t been still sick from the drinking - which was his fault as well, for sure, she just had to find a reason why - she would have noticed the hidden men. That was for sure. She tried to gain some furtive glances at their attackers to be able to judge their power and develop a plan. Knowledge was a weapon if used correctly, that was one of the first lessons her mother had taught her.

The men seemed <i>strange</i>. At least they weren’t soldiers, so she was kind of relieved, although she didn’t know what she could expect from them. They were dressed in animal skins, though they covered their muscular, hairy bodies only slightly, and bore selfmade weapons of wood and stone. And they seemed somewhat primitive in their behaviour as well, they communicated by gestures and grunts, not using any language she had ever heard. The one in front of their little procession, an especially hairy and disgusting gnome, seemed to be their leader, for the other treated him with obvious respect.

There were about twenty of them, too many for her and LeBeau to take on since they knew how to use their weapons, and despite their primitive behaviour functioned better than any army she had ever seen. Also, it was getting hotter by the second, as they made their way into the heart of the mountain, and Rogue wasn’t looking forward to a fight under circumstances that bothered her a lot but didn’t seem to bother her opponents.

They stopped suddenly and tore her out of her thoughts when they had left the tunnel to enter a huge cave in the mountains inside. The heat was almost unbearable, although the cave’s ceiling was so high that Rogue couldn’t imagine a fire big enough to heat it up like that. But when the animal-men carrying her dropped her on the floor, she saw the source of the heat, and surely it was something she couldn’t have imagined.

On a throne made of lava sat a flame in the shape of a woman. Rogue sqinted her eyes when they hurt after staring at the flame-woman too long. She was all red and orange, white in the center, with long, yellow legs ending in red feet. She couldn’t discern a face in the flames, just an idea of slitted eyes that bore no soul. They had found the child of fire.

The Visioner stifled a yell when he looked at the woman in the throne. His sensitive eyes hurt badly from the intense light that the woman emanated. But he didn’t dare close his eyes entirely, he needed to know what was going on there. The woman couldn’t be anyone but the child of fire, so he needed to talk to her to make her realize that they were fighting on the same side. For now, though, he wasn’t sure he would surive the next minute in this inferno.

Through slitted eyes, he saw the leader of his guards approach the throne and talk to the woman. He couldn’t understand what he said, but he was too shocked at the view to concentrate on anything else. The man stood so close to the woman in the throne that his hair singed, his skin started to burn and finally fell off his bones. Yet, he didn’t leave her side. Then, suddenly, the heat was gone, as was the light. It took him a moment to get used to the darkness until he could see her again. A little fire was still alight in the back of the throne and lit the cave enough for him to see.

The woman had changed completely. She now had the body of a regular - if extraordinary beautiful - woman, long red hair - with flames still licking in it - framing her face. A black cape that one of the animal men had provided covered her body.

"The Wolverine infromed me that you were bothered by the temperature and the light in my home, so I adjusted to your wellbeings." Her voice was sharp and unearthy. Remy knew that she talked about the leader of the animal men. He looked at him, but was surprised not to see a singed corpse, but him standing upright and his burns healing fast.

"Thank you," Remy said wryly and returned his attention to the child of fire. She seemed confused for a moment, as if not used to conversations that included politeness, however sarcastic, then continued. "You are the Visioner, we were aware of your approach, but you weren’t alone, so you were attacked. Who is the girl travelling with you?"

"Girl?" Remy returned, bewildered, then looked around confusedly until his eyes fell on Rogue, who struggled against her captors angrily. Finally, he - <i>she</i>, Remy reminded himself - looked up and met his eyes defiantly. "You’re a girl," Remy asked, his lips twitching with amusement.

"Gee, now I know why they picked you for that destiny crap. You’re a regular genius!" In spite of her crippling sarcasm, Rogue had found it absolutely impossible to evade the persistent blush at his discovery.

"Ignore her," Remy said after turning towards the child of fire again, ignoring Rogue’s howl of outrage. "She’s just a little straggler I picked up along the way, completely harmless. I’m here for your hint." He wasn’t comfortable around this one, feeling the endless hunger of her fire to consume and spread until nothing was left but a barren wasteland. Well, not all of them could be like Ororo, he mused.

The child of fire lifted one magnificently shaped eyebrow, but didn’t comment his rush in any other way.

"I am Sheena, the child of fire, as you may have guessed. I bring you the cleansing truth of the eternal flame." Remy heard Rogue’s ’D’uh’ exclamation and could imagine her rolling her eyes. He suppressed his smirk and urged Sheena to go on.

"So, listen well, Visioner, for only the whole prophecy will allow you to set free the power of death among this world. And these are my hints for you:

It will come back

In times of need

To regain strength

The heart must bleed

What it has lost

It must refind

It’s powers back

No longer blind."

"What kind of bullshit is that," Rogue grumbled incredulously from behind and Sheena’s eyes narrowed, tiny flames shooting from the black orbs where her eyes should have been. "It is time for you to leave," she said to Remy, the coldness in her voice contradicting the heat of the volcano. Remy bowed to her curtly and then grabbed Rogue’s arm, pulling her out of the cave again. He could feel the singe in his back when Sheena flamed up again.

"Ow," Rogue yelped and freed her arm when they finally saw sunlight again. She glared at him and rubbed her arm. "I really don’t know why I put up with all this shit. But imagining that YOU would otherwise be on your own with saving the world..." she trailed off and stared at the entrance of the cave again, frowning. "Are all those elemental chicks that prissy?"

Remy assessed her rigid form, still not able to believe thant under all this dirt and attitude, there should be a girl hidden. It was gonna be a long journey indeed.