Post by Nathan Saniti on Nov 28, 2014 10:04:31 GMT -5
The Dark Arcana - Chapter 22: Exit the Fool, Part Two (Finale)
The mysterious figure with electric blue eyes approached, never wavering its gaze from either man. Still cloaked in smoke and shadow, the creature, once the size of a human, seemed to shrink as it approached. Finally, it burst through the fog it had been enveloped in. Nathan, still aglow from the raging power within him tilted his head in utter disbelief as a familiar friend bounded into their line of vision.
"Tarrant?" Nathan's fury ebbed a bit, giving his clouded mind a small glimpse of sudden clarity.
"The rabbit?" wondered the still equally enraged and curious Rasputin. "How does that rodent know the Crimson Scowl?"
Ignoring both men, Tarrant hopped up towards Nathan. "Stop this now, Nathan before it's too late."
"How?" stammered the Mystical Madman, "How do you know my sister's signature encantus?"
Still not giving the benefit of a response Tarrant pleaded again, "Please desist before this horrible change within you becomes permanent." As he spoke, there was a familiar pity in his eyes for his longtime friend.
A bolt of lightning crashed just at Tarrant's right foot, courtesy of the newly freed Grigori Rasputin. The distraction was all he needed to unpin himself from the tree Nathan had nailed him to. "ANSWER ME!" demanded the Russian mystic. "HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT SPELL?" (Capslock FTW) A grimace of unadulterated anger stretched across his face, he stomped toward the rodent, who still gave him not an inkling of a response. He threw another warning shot, but this one was frozen in its place with a mere glance from the bunny, just before striking the ground near his feet again. Rasputin stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide with awe. As the bolt sat in mid-air it dissipated with a crackle of protest.
"Nathan, breathe," instructed Tarrant soothingly, returning his attention to his pal.
"I..." Nathan replied with uncertainty in his voice, "I'm not sure if I can stop it. It may be too late. The Dark Arcana is a creature built of heartache, anger, and resentment."
"Suppress it, Nathan," cooed the rabbit. "You can do it. You've done it before."
"How do you know all of this?" queried Nathan. "How could you possibly..."
Tarrant spoke as he grew in size, his body and voice changing into one of a different persuasion. "Because I've been by your side for centuries..." She paused for a second after reaching her final form. "...my dear, sweet, naive brother."
Both wizards stood slack-jawed at the apparition before them. A flash of red-hot rage overtook Rasputin as Nathan stood and puzzled. "YOU DARE MOCK ME WITH THAT FORM, RODENT?" Bolt after bolt left Rasputin in a flurry of motions, each one meeting the same effortless fate as the last at the gest of the beautiful gypsy woman. "YOU DARE TAKE THE FORM OF MY BELOVED?" He continued with volley after volley, shrinking down to his knees as sadness overtook him, his efforts blocked at every turn.
Finally taking pity upon the wizard, she turned to him. "It's me, my dearest Grigori. Naomi. Your Sweet Madame Blue." She sauntered over, cupping Rasputin's head in her gentle hand, wiping away the waterworks on his face. "I think you knew all long. Part of you did, or you'd have destroyed me when I was spying on Iska."
Nathan continued to attempt to grasp the scenario, stuttering in his speech, "H-h-how... Tarrant? I... Don't understand."
She smiled sweetly at her brother, standing both herself and Rasputin upright calmly. Once again approaching her sibling, she touched his chin as she had always done since their childhood. "I assure you both it IS me. Rabbits don't live forever. You lost Tarrant during the French Revolution, don't you remember?" Nathan struggled to recall. "That was what caused you to begin transforming into the Dark Arcana the first time."
Memories came flooding back as she caressed her brother's face. A stray bullet had caught his best furry friend in the chest, sending him over the rainbow bridge, and Nathan over a much more precarious ledge. In his recollection, he saw his sister and Rasputin both fighting alongside him, the soldiers of the Black Hand firing at them from the distance.
Their necromancers were as determined as Grimm, their lieutenants as atrocious as Sadistic, all in a concerted effort to right a misconceived "wrong turn" in humanity's history. The army of pawns at their disposal were as vicious as Cory Steel in their determination, and as slick, stealthy and misleading in their actions as "Mr. Hollywood" Michael Wryght. They wished the suppressive power and ruthlessness of the French monarchy to stay in place. The four of them had been summoned to put an end to the meddling of the Black Hand.
His mind relived in horror as his furry companion fell, causing the power within him to well outward in an instant. Once the full extent of the Arcana was unchained, his mind blanked out in a purple and green flash.
"I have always been beside you, for this very reason," Naomi assured Nathan.
"You stood aside as he banished me to the mirror realm?" Rasputin hissed.
Naomi looked at the ground in shame, before steeling her gaze at her lover. "I had to. You were dangerous. You could have caused this very thing to happen again."
Rasputin's ire melted as he recalled his own sins. Mired in guilt, he stood speechless, his eyes welling up once again. "Will you ever love me again?"
She motioned for Rasputin to approach, enveloping him in her arms. "I have never stopped." Tenderly, she placed her lips on his, removing any remaining malicious feelings with her embrace.
"I don't mean to interrupt," Nathan spoke, the power of the Dark Arcana forcing itself to the surface. "But I highly doubt I can halt this." The glow around him became more pronounced, like a fire that has just been fed properly seasoned wood. The green flames tore from his eyes like a mystical beacon. He aimed his gaze at the sky to prevent injuring the bystanders.
"Then don't," chimed yet another familiar voice watching with interest from the shadows. Just as Naomi had, it approached, it silhouette taking the shape of a very familiar turtle-duck at first, yet morphing into a human as it drew near. "Let it out. Let it all out. Just not right now." The figure approached, becoming clearer. "Save it for Deadly Intentions. Save it to put a stop to the Black Hand."
"I'm not sure if I can repress it," Nathan screamed without moving to see who it was that joined them. He knew if he looked upon them currently, it would spell disaster.
"Yes, you can Nathan," soothed the new voice. "I have faith in you, yanno."
"You can do it," echoed his sister. "Use the power of the Dark Arcana to destroy Grimm in the ring. Use it to stop the Black Hand in the Deadly Rumble. You must do it!"
"Why?" puzzled Rasputin.
"Because," answered the new voice. "That's how they plan on taking over. They plan on using the status that comes with holding a PCW title to their means. They believe if they hold all of the gold, then the world will bow to their ways."
"I..." faltered Nathan again, "I'm not sure if I can do it."
"Brother," appeased Naomi, "You must try. We will help you." Naomi released her lover, guiding him over by her side. The new visitor joined them in encircling the Mystical Madman. The power within Nathan surged outward, as if in self-defense, but the three of them held their ground as they encompassed him in a hug. "Show him our support. Love can repair his damaged heart. The love of his life may have left him, but if he knows he isn't alone, it may be all the strength he needs."
The three, even his once-nemesis Rasputin, mustered all of the positive feelings within their souls, feelings even Rasputin himself had once long forgotten, brought to the surface with a kiss. They embraced Nathan, the surges becoming frantic before tapering off. Time and love did indeed heal all wounds, even the fresh ones left by a confused girl and her forlorn counterpart. Slowly, the flames died from his gaze, his irises becoming normal once again, or at least as normal as lime green eyes can get. Nathans wilted, the trio descending with him, resting him on his knees. As he caught his breath, he glanced around. His wonderful, beautiful sister had once again become part of her life. His friend-turned-enemy had once again become his friend after so many centuries.
The new voice, the one of a dear friend of recent, smiled calmly as he recognized him. "I dunno if I'll be able to be by your side in the ring, but I'll always at least be with you in spirit."
"That shall have to do," assured Nathan, grinning his unsettled smile once again. "Now, what say we put an end to this Black Hand foolishness?" They all stood, dusting each other off with determination. (Determination is a wonderful tool to dust oneself off with. Much more thorough than a lint brush.) "I shall put an end to Grimm's run as Intercontinental Champion, and then I shall make certain that no member of the Black Hand survives the Deadly Rumble. Psychadelica as a team may have been dismantled, but its spirit and heart shall be forevermore a part of PCW's reality."
