It wasn't long before Alena had joined Kenrir's school of discipline when he and Karra had gotten together for a serious chat—one that was among the very few interactions they've personally had.
For Karra, she hadn't quite let go of Maybelle's lack of return, and even though did get along relatively well on occassion—it became clear in her determination that she was holding onto a lot of pent up frustrations. This was the drive that kept pushing her—the drive to become stronger.
It was after all, that if Maybelle were never to return home, then Karra would have to become strong enough to come back home for both of them—or so, this is what she had thought. It wasn't fair, and there was nothing in Karra's heart that would set the unknown reason behind her abandonment right.
Maybelle had promised to return, and now years have passed without a word.
Karra's soul had been crushed, and had remained such ever since hearing the news—and Maybelle had long since been her obsession.
One morning, it was just before daybreak when Karra had gone to the training grounds to get in some regular training and blow off some steam. She hadn't dreamed in quite some time, and as such, this was one of those mornings where she had barely slept. Her mind raced with flashes of Maybelle's departure, and as such, Karra had been determined as always to acquire strength.
Surprisingly enough, Karra was already at the training grounds even before Kenrir had climbed his roof to watch the sunrise. His morning tea in hand, Kenrir stood there on the roof as Karra had caught his attention. She was at her usual position, standing quietly as she stared at the wooden training post before her.
Her designated Wing Chun was well battered—worn more than the rest as always.
It wasn't long before Karra had tensed her paws into fist, and she threw her core gravity up high, kicking her leg into one of the upper panel arms with all her might—as she timed the throw of her punch to deflect the upper arm when her leg made impact, swinging the dummy's other arm toward her. As the arm was knocked back, Karra threw out her other fist, hitting the secondary arm away.
From here, she switched back and forth between deflecting the panel arms with her paws and forearms, and threw her fists out at the lower panel of her Wing Chun as well.
Kenrir continued to observe, as the steam from his morning tea elevated from his cup.
As Karra hit the arm of a lower panel, that section of the training dummy spun back, and Karra had deflected its hit-back with her shin. She kicked it off with such fluidity, and continued to incorporate her arms, legs, palms and fists into each deflective strike. The more section panels she would attack, the more challenging it would become to deflect each knock-back.
Karra hadn't noticed Kenrir on the roof, as she was far too fixated on the challenge she had presented upon herself.
Kenrir had soon set his tea down on the roof, and stepped over to the edge. As he did, he stepped off, allowing himself to drop down to the ground below—mere feet away from the row of wooden dummies that had filled the training grounds, then he approached.
Karra has now become aware, but she wouldn't let her teacher's presence divert her focus.
At this moment, Kenrir stood still.
"It's early," he commented.
It seemed as though Karra had began hitting the individual arms on the Wing Chun harder, as if frustrated by Kenrir's desire to speak to her at a time like this.
Though she had no one to blame for her sister not returning home, something about Maybelle's former master made Karra feel a little unnerving—which between that and Kenrir's potential attempt at consoling her had began aggravating Karra deeply. She couldn't help herself, and yet she wanted to hear nothing of it, and this is the topic she was rightfully concerned was the one to come. After all, what else would it be? Why else would Kenrir even bother to approach?
Kenrir simply stared at Karra as she tried her best to ignore him. Her deflection and assault on the training post grew more aggressive—not much faster—but her body language said it all.
"There is something of importance that I must discuss with you," Kenrir stated.
As he finished this sentence, Karra violently, slammed her palm into the sectional arm spinning her way and dug her claws into it, catching it while simultaneously stomping on the lower sectional arm—stopping it in place. She had even held her other arm across her midsection, blocking the midsection from slamming into her side. Her face showed just how serious she was, as the whole Wing Chun dummy had come to a stop.
"What is it?" she asked in an agitated tone.
"It's about the one you call 'sister,'" Kenrir explained, being completely understanding and equally unphased.
"Maybelle?" Karra asked, her eyes squinting with intensity.
"That's right, and I believe it's long passed time I've given something to you," Kenrir answered her, as he slowly reached into his robe.
Karra's eyes followed his hands, watching for a moment before making eye contact.
"What is it?" she asked, disinterested in conversation.
From out of his robe, Kenrir pulled out a certain book, one that he had kept to himself for a long period of time.
"It's from him..." Kenrir expressed softly, as he stretched the book out to Karra.
"'Him?'" Karra questioned, her face furrowing in a stiff confusion.
"That's what I've been needing to discuss with you," Kenrir explained. "You'll understand once you've looked inside."
Karra hesitantly reached out, taking an almost delicate, yet firm hold of the book out from Kenrir's gentle grip.
On the cover, there was an insignia of two different hands gracefully touching—as if symbolizing a bond.
Karra brought the book closer to herself, and examined the cover closely. For Karra, it appeared to be nothing of significance—however, after a moment, she flipped the cover open. When she did, Karra completely froze, as her eyes locking onto some written text at the bottom-corner of the inside cover.
"To My Dear Sister, From Maybelle With Love"
Karra's mouth cracked open, as her jaw, eyes and paws began to tremble lightly.
"What... what is this...?" she murmured aloud—shocked by the writing.
At the top of the open book, there could be seen fancy gold writing, centered with a wax seal:
"'In Honor of our Hero' — The Suncrest Family"
"He wanted you to have it. It's proof of your brother's success," Kenrir began to explain.
Karra's breath hitched, and her expression showed that of further confusion—but at the same time, Kenrir now had her full undivided attention.
"My..." she murmured hesitantly.
Kenrir went on to explain the deep conversation he and Maybelle had shared on the rooftop, explaining everything Maybelle had confided to their master.
...
Karra had been left stunned, as every detail was left to sink in.
After a few moments she looked back down at the book, and holding it with one careful paw, she brushed her digits across the inside cover—following it from top to bottom.
"How did you get this?" Karra asked more calmly, her eyes locked on the book.
"That's a bit more complicated..." Kenrir tried to answer.
That's when Karra's attention shot up to Kenrir, as she stepped forward, and her voice turned into something that resembled a rushed panic.
"Is Maybelle alive?! Will Maybelle be coming home?! Where did you get this?!"
Kenrir tensed up slightly, standing there with a faint sense of sorrow lingering over him, as he witnessed the sharp, swiftness of urgency emerge upon her tone.
Back then, when Kenrir had found Maybelle, he soon realized there was no way he could just leave Maybelle to roam the wild. After quietly mourning Maybelle's present state, Kenrir had taken a deep breath, and released her unconscious form from his embrace. He rested Maybelle carefully on the ground, trying to avoid causing them any further harm.
It wasn't long before he turned 'round to check the nearby, mangled body—the one that Maybelle had been standing over when they were discovered.
"Is this what pushed you to this...?" he asked himself.
Kenrir became hesitant—quiet, as when looking at the body, it had become clear that something was off. He had let off a shallow breath, and stood up to approach the being laying limb in sight. Old leaves and twigs crunched under his feet, and countless droplets of red stained the ground.
Kenrir's eyes widened in a heavy silence, for as he grew closer, seeing the human man lying there—and fearing the worst—had become so much more. Kenrir stood over the body, and as the half of its face that could be seen—along with the limbs which came into view, something had become clear—this was no man.
The body was large, the muscles distorted, the skin over the veins both sunken in and swollen out all over. On the face, telangiectasias veins covered it from the back of the neck to the clouded over eye, while the cheek appeared slit straight—nearly to the mandible.
Carefully, Kenrir had lowered himself, preparing to turn the body over to reveal the parts unseen.
Just as he began turning it over however, with the sudden movement of the body beginning to roll—the scene focused upon Kenrir's face. It hadn't changed, but it was clear he was paused in shock.
"That... shouldn't be possible," he faintly spoke under his breath. "You shouldn't even exist now... How, after all that?"
Kenrir rose to his feet, staring hard at the body of the deformed, humanoid beast. He noted the details carefully, making certain there were no signs of life, and confirming without a doubt was it was. There was no mistaking it.
"It ate human flesh... Even still, with all that power... It's no wonder... You were fortunate, and yet... It had to come to this..."
Kenrir's words, though not looking their way, were directed to Maybelle alone.
In moments, the rustling of grounded leaves had caught his attention. Kenrir whipped his foot through the leaves below, swiftly turning around.
Standing there just now, were three cloaked figures where Maybelle had lain, and the one in the center was now carrying Maybelle in their arms. All that could be seen of the figures were their hands, the tails behind them, and their devious grins.
"Hello Teach," the one in the center said, "It's been a long time.."
Kenrir stood still, processing the voice and features he could make out.
"I hope you don't mind us dropping in. His Lordship will be most pleased," the cloaked individual said.
"That voice..." Kenrir said quietly in surprise.
"Ah, but of course. How could you possibly forget the sounds of your own students? After all, it would be unlike you to simply forget, now wouldn't it?"
The voice itself was masculine, and the two equally covered individuals on either side of him began to chuckle among themselves—their laughs more feminine.
"You're—You're some of those who were meant to return...!" Kenrir exclaimed.
"That's certainly one way of looking at it, but you see, we have no need to return there... completion of our rites or not."
Kenrir took a few steps forward, to which the two on the sides took a short sprint ahead of the one in the middle, causing Kenrir to stop in surprise.
"Just what are you doing?" Kenrir asked of them.
"Hey, hey now—I don't recall greeting you into a friendly sort of reunion, Teach. Best you keep your distance now."
"What—?" Kenrir faintly exclaimed.
The figure in the rear center chuckled to himself that verymoment.
"I hope you don't mind us taking your precious student away. She'll make a great tribute for his Lordship. It would be a shame to disappoint."
"What are you talking about, and where are the other students?!" Kenrir demanded to know.
"Oh you need not worry yourself about them. Those expected to return home are with us you see. That is to say, the ones who have decided to join us; just like this one here shall do as well."
Kenrir didn't know what was going on, but he didn't like the sound of things one bit and soon lifted his arms, readying himself for the clearly rising threat.
"Put my disciple down...!" he strictly demanded.
"Oh, but why would I do that? Do you honestly believe we haven't prepared for this encounter? And what would you do? After all, it's not like you could just leave her here as she is anyway—to freely roam the wild? Isn't that right? The way I see it, taking her and sparing your life would be doing you a favor."
At that moment, Kenrir's eyelids dropped to ascowl.
"I'm not going to ask you again..."
"Well~ Teach! Look who's getting all feisty now! Ahahahaha—!!"
Taunting Kenrir, the cloaked figure bowed his knees, leaning his torso forward as he held Maybelle's still unconscious body dangling in his outrightarms within his regard.
"Don't say we didn't warn you~!!"
At that point, the speaking figure took two additional leaps back, while the two figures guarding his position more threateningly inched forward.
"Come on now! Time to skedaddle!" the figure exclaimed to his comrades.
In that instant, Kenrir's expression became fierce, as he plunged forward. The very moment he started to move however, the taunting one carrying Maybelle leapt back again—even higher this time, while his companions swiftly reached into their cloaks and ripped out a small ball which they ignited. Throwing the balls to the ground, two large bursts of purple flames ruptured together in their place.
The flash of fire spanned wide and high, cloaking over the three that had stood before him—and in a desperate attempt to retrieve his disciple, Kenrir had leapt into the combustion of fire.
"Don't you dare!!" he shouted mid-leap.
On the other end of the combustion of flames, two fists were already plummeting forward. Kenrir saw them for only a split moment, and his eyes widened as the fists of the two cloaked students slammed into him. The punches were sharp, and as they made contact, Kenrir was flung back—caught completely off guard in that instant.
The flames were hot as expected, and some of the fallen plant life had caught under the combustion—but as Kenrir fell back through the flames, the fire steadily dwindled.
Kenrir barely caught himself as he was knocked back, and as he was ready to take another charge forward, he witnessed the fire calming before him.
"Self extinguishing incendiaries?" he questioned with a scowl, and the back of his hand touching in reaction, the spot of impact dealt upon his face.
Kenrir took another leap through the diminishing flames, this time immediately swinging his leg out in a horizontal, aerial sweep, aiming to deflect an additional barrage. As he passed through this time however, there was no target. The cloaked students appeared to be long gone, and Maybelle with them.
Kenrir scoured the area with a glance. He appeared calm, but in his heart, he was anything but that. He didn't wish to believe some of his own students had been so capable as to vanish just like that, and against himself of all things. The fire dissipated behind him, leaving a blue, wet powder substance in its place. Kenrir feeling the warmth behind him was no more, stepped forward, his eyes scanning for anything that could serve as a clue.
It hadn't taken long, when just ahead, he had recognized a disturbed trail of fallen foliage a short distance ahead—paired with a thin trail of blood. In that instant, Kenrir had darted ahead.
In the following scene,Kenrir could be seen rushing in, to a halt.
From just a ways forward, our scene slides down from overhead—witnessing Kenrir's steady approach from ahead, as we fall upon a man wearing a cloak leaning back against a tree—sat on the ground with part of his forearm tucked into the front split of his robe. The man sitting there had a strapped pouch sat at his side, to whom the bloody trail led.
Kenrir approached the human male, and stopped mere feet away—as a grave detail had been evident. Kenrir looked down upon him, his expression unmoved—somewhat serious, soft, and yet numb in nature. The bloody maul off his shoulder, towards the base of his neck, barely seen by the angle of view. The man was coughing; his breathing hoarse.
"You're dying," Kenrir exclaimed, clearly understanding what lied upon the scene.
The alchemist remained there, and hoarsely exhaled into a wet cough, which rose into a moist laughter.
"Yes," cough, cough, "...and yet, I have fulfilled my end of the bargain..." COUGH, the differently robed man replied.
"Did you see a group come this way?" Kenrir asked in a low, yet stern tone.
"You mean those like yourself with that wretched beast...?" the man knowingly asked, before briefly laughing into a wet, coughing fit.
Kenrir's expression barely changed, and yet, he put on the slightest of scowls.
"Which way?"
The man laughed weakly, his airways wet—as he removed his hand from his robe. A sharp, but short blade was carefully tucked into his hand.
Regardless, Kenrir felt no threat, and stood there intently listening.
"What makes you think I would help another of your kind?"
He inhaled hoarsely.
"Before long, that prized student of yours will be used as a tool against you, and all those like you..."
At this point, he began to reach for the knapsack at his side.
"That filthy beast... it didn't so much as have anything useful..."
He spoke these words, as he pulled two books out from the knapsack, and proceeded to toss them aside forcefully. He immediately winced, and after that, reached back into his robe—the small blade still in his hand.
Kenrir showed little reaction to the words, though some irritation could be seen upon his face.
"What a lousy partner... Leaving me to die..."
The man coughed wetly once again.
"'Partner?'" Kenrir questioned.
The man swallowed, coughed slightly, all but clearing his throat before swallowingagain sharply.
"You should have made sure he was dead..."
Upon speaking those words, the man burst out in maniacal laughter.
"Agma, you wretch... Our pact doesn't end here... Leaving me to die... You promised me their blood... No—This is only the beginning..!!"
His laughter continued.
Kenrir stood watching, listening in to every detail of what could only be described as the final words of a mad man.
The dying man laughed, and laughed—his head rested back against the tree, until soon, the laughter and all his movements ceased. As the light faded from his eyes, his arm fell out limb, his robed pulled open, and underneath—peeking out, could be seen the carvings of symbols encased in a curving line. There, his limb hand once again showed the small blade now with a more noticeably bloody edge.
To Kenrir, the carvings meant little, but his reaction showed notice.
Our scene turns down, panning over the two books that lay there on the ground.
One book—a journal, one that would eventually fall into Karra's possession; the other—one that would one day be discovered by a little, ginger nekomata, locked away on a shelf for safe keeping.
Two counterparts, set on a journey yet to unfold...
Back in Kenrir's private quarters, Modern Day...
As the memories had come to a close, Kenrir slipped his hand from the key box—and with gentle melancholy, soon turned away and stepped out of view.
Back in the time of the memory, behind the scenes...
—
—
—
There lay the deceased humanoid beast, one now resembling that of a human after having feasted on a man of prey...
It lay there unmoving, the face still hidden away.
As the scene jumps ahead, we now look upon its chest...
A large portion of its front side still lacked the physique of a human man.
There on its chest, could be seen a scarification of the very same symbols its victim had carved into himself... symbols, which began to glow, and the muscles of the deceased beast soon following into an involuntarily spasm... Its hands—which were large and dark toned—with long fingers and sharp nails, began to snap at the wrists and violently twitch. The body shook inconsistently—its individual sections doing so independently, as the recently deceased body began to inhale a high-pitched, ragged groan... Then a loud SNAP—as its elbows and knees swiftly crunched back, and following after... came a growl with a blood curdling scream... [Ref. CH7]
—The scene snaps to black
A deeply distorted voice, reminiscent of a dead man's now follows...
"It's not over... yet..."
The growl continues...
—Silence