Chapter 14: All mortal things draw to an end.

"I was with him in his last hour and he gave me this message to your Majesty: to remember that all worlds draw to an end and that noble death is a treasure which no one is too poor to buy." - Farsight, The Last Battle

The first hour of January 1, 1390.

Naimee looked down from the Internet Cafe balcony at the snowless square below. Her new crossbow was held securely but not too tightly in her hand. A quiver of crossbow arrows - how good their weight and power felt! - hung easily on her left hip.

And out they came, in twos and a few in ones, in almost the same order as they entered. The light of the stars in the clear void of the heavens was drowned out by the illumination of warm lamps specially put up for this new year. Dignitaries from every major (and legal) organization on Victoria Island walked into the chilly air to welcome the first hour of the new year. Their revelry would continue well into the morning hours, if nothing went awry.

Something was to go awry, though, and the Silver Crow in Naimee's hand would be its perpetrator. But how had she gotten it?

Mitts, assigned to guard duty by the main entrance, was chatting with his fellow guard since there wasn't much point putting all his conscious energies guarding a door into a building when all the VIPs were outside it.

"...and so, this baggage carrier carries a black suitcase among a set of brown baggage belonging to some VIP. The head of security Major Tess herself cleared the stuff through into the building, but then who comes down but the head of the Assault Squad saying that the suitcase was suspicious... she shakes it, then at the sound of nothing rattling she strikes up this look of triumph, and calls for the lockmaster to open it. Inside the case, what does everyone see but a high-end crossbow all wrapped up in anti-metallic material that got it through the first screening. She confiscated it then," Mitts said.

"Wow, the Major sure must have been embarrassed," his companion noted. "But who was the head of A-squad?"

"You didn't hear this from me, but" - and here Mitts lowered his voice - "they say she's one of those Mariner agents."

"That'll explain why she seemed to home in on that suitcase as if she could see through things," the guard muttered darkly.

"True, but don't you go talking about this to anyone else," Mitts warned, whispering now. He gave a quick gesture with his head in the direction of the dignitaries in the square. "Better go back to looking important before someone complains about us."

Several floors above the two, Naimee waited. Dressed completely in black archress armour, she was almost invisible and none but the most experienced eye would catch sight of her. The only thing that could give her away, her crossbow, was well below the railing where its profile was broken up into smaller pieces all the better for concealment.

The bell dutifully tolled one o'clock. Normally the bell never tolled, period, but all stops had been pulled for this high-class party of elites. It was a new year, a new decade, after all. In fact, most people were not aware that there was even a bell nearby, and its existance was certainly questionable, for a prerecording of its solemn yet uplifting rich tones was quite possible.

But Naimee concentrated on none of these things, although she noticed and noted them, her attention was focused on the small crowd below. Any moment now -

There it came, the familiar whistle of a crossbow bolt and the sharp clang of metal parting metal as it struck home. As expected, everyone had paused or at least slowed down slightly at the sound of the rarely-heard bell... and the sniper had taken full advantage of that moment.

The shaft of the arrow was sticking out of the chestplate as stiff as a well-forged lance, and the point was buried deep within the amour, but it had failed to pierce the skin completely for there was not one drop of blood in sight.

"Invincibility," Naimee muttered angrily to herself. So the president of Sleepywoodnet Corp. is a follower of Haxor after all, she thought. She planned to change that soon - she would make him follow in death's footsteps.

Every eye was staring at Ruk and his close encounter, or so they thought, with the sniper's bolt. Naimee's eyes were fixated on him too, but for a different reason: she raised her Silver Crow and fired off a heavy steel-tipped bolt at the target presented to her, his back. It was no ordinary shot: she focused what modest amounts of magical powers bowmen were granted and channeled its power into the piercing might of Iron Arrow.

There was no way for her to miss; the range was short by sniper standards and the target was well illuminated in the warm homely glow of lamps that seemed to be more befitting of a snowy scene. Even cult-gained invincibility abilities would not stop the pure energy of the incoming projectile now...

With cocentric sonic waves trailing behind, the bolt slammed through the armour and buried itself deeply into flesh. For a moment, all stood stock still in unbelievable shock. A single drop of red dripped from the wound and splashed on the cold pavement. First blood.

Then a loud menacing laughter ringed through the air as Ruk pulled the arrow out of his body, and where it had once pierced him now there was healed flesh. The shot seemed to have strengthened him insteading of weakening him - and Naimee understood. He was steeped so low, dabbled so deep into the evil workings of Haxor that he had obtained the thousand-three-thirty-seven cursed "healing" spell. There was no possible way to kill him with what options Naimee had.

On the ground, these events occurred in the full view of every person. With a scream of rage and hatred towards Haxor, the guild leader of K.o.M. - after all, he certainly was an important figure and had been invited to this new year event at the Internet Cafe - unsheathed his Red Katana and charged towards the head of Sleepywoodnet Corporation.

"You cursed liar and Haxor!" Trunks cried as sword ran against spear. His actions were so rash and spontaneous that he did not even bother to get his shield. The crowd was too stunned to do anything to stop the two combatants, who only minutes earlier had been trading polite, albeit slightly forced, pleasantries.

The odds were piled up unfavourably and unstoppably against Trunks; Ruk's Red Curve had been scrolled by the unholy methods of Haxor to a level of power once thought impossible. Crimson sparks flew as the two warriors struck and parried for a few rounds. With the longer reach, Ruk had an advantage over Trunks which he pursued to its limits; thrusting and swinging the spear he kept Trunks far away enough to prevent him from making use of the speed of his sword. An advantage he overexploited to the degree of making a mistake: on a particularly high thrust of the Red Curve Trunks ducked low and swept in close, shielding himself with his sword above his head. For a moment it seemed that perhaps victory against the Haxor spearman was at hand, for even thousand-three-thirty-seven magic would not do much for a body cut into two at the waist.

For a moment. The shaft of the upgraded spear came crashing down, shattering the Red Katana completely into two useless pieces. Ruk, though, had no time to gloat for he was immediately engaged by another, this one the assassin Ant. The paired steely stars he threw were useless - they merely clanged and bounced off the armour - but already Ant was readying another pair, this time aiming for the exposed, unprotected face. The thousand-three-thirty-seven spell did not regrow eyes gouged out either.

Ruk turned away to shield himself and to ready a dragonknight skill to unleash upon Ant, but the hasteful assassin leaped in front of him forcing Ruk to turn away again.

"You wouldn't have your dragonknight abilities if not for Boter," Ant spat bitterly. "My powers and strengths were hard-earned by my sweat watering the ground, but yours - yours are merely borrowed from Boter."

"Get him!" Ruk shouted out to his personal bodyguards (what important person didn't take bodyguards with him everywhere?). They had been standing, shocked and awed like the rest, but now they sprung into action.

And so did everyone else who hated the Haxor and Boter cults.

Even Naimee had temporarily forgotten what she was supposed to do, but now as hostile faces looked up at her she saw that things had gone differently from the way they were supposed to. For one, Ruk's blood was supposed to be flowing down the drains by now... but no. Instead, a full-fledged fight had broken out, and it was impossible to snipe at her target now at this range, at least.

The board of Sleepywoodnet Corp. was merely a few of many invited to this new year celebration, and she wondered now why so many of the cronies in the melee seemed to be on Ruk's side. Obviously he either had many troopers hidden nearby or he had many allies. Naimee was believed that both were true.

In any case, she had more urgent troubles as five ranged weapons were flying up towards the balcony where she stood. She leaped down, crying "The bolt of Grosjager falls from above!" as she unleashed another Iron Arrow. This one, though, was more powerful on the sonic wave ability and less so on the piercing end of the spectrum. As she landed on the ground temporarily vulnerable, toes, ankles, knees, and hips bending to absorb the impact while the pain prevented her from controlling her upper body, so likewise were her adversaries reeling backwards from the shock of the sonic waves caused by the arrow.

Even though she was Albatross no longer, her training was still there: as soon as she recovered from the landing Naimee took her Red Viper from where she wore it on her back, loaded it with three arrows, released and downed three of her opponents before they could fire off their own attacks again. The other two were about to unleash their weapons and Naimee braced herself in preparation for evasion.

They never fired. A double volley of arrows neutralized them. Naimee rolled away from the immediate battlefield, for that was what Internet Square was now, towards a glint of gold near the cover of an alley.

"Been working on my Doubleshot," Halire shouted above the din of battle as he reloaded his Golden Crow. He, of course, was the sniper that had fired off the first shot that started all of this. Naimee rearmed herself with her Silver Crow. "What now?" she asked back.

"No way we can get a clear shot through this hooliganed mess," he replied. "Let's get out of here."

Naimee shook her head. This was her mission, her objective, her glory. No Grosjager sniper ever failed a mission.

"I'll go with you," he affirmed her. They charged back into the fray, making straight for Ruk.

As Halire Power Knockbacked anybody who got too closed, Naimee cut a path in front of her with well placed shots. They reached a horrible sight.

Somehow, Ruk had managed to strike Ant with the butt of his spear and winded him. Ant now lay prone on the ground, with the tip of the Red Curve directly above his chest and closing the distance - fast.

The spear had so much momentum that it buried into the ground. A nearby Major Tess screamed with agony.

The pavement remained dry.

The shattered remains of two crossbow bolts lay on top of Ant's clothes. The Red Curve was in between his torso and his arm. The two arrows had pushed the spear onto a slightly different path, and it had only struck the air and asphalt under Ant's armpit. It had struck not a single hair on him.

All this took place in less than a second; the next Ruk was frozen by the strongest beam of coldness that Tess had ever casted. He struggled in vain to break free, not knowing that this was a perfect example of the wrong way to escape from ice magic.

Quite literally a horde rushed to strike him, and they would have had not Tess yelled, "Don't fight! Report!"

This coming from a woman whom most supposed had just been widowed, seeing the spear apparently driven through Ant, they were of course surprised. The sounds of combat died down for one peaceful moment as all, even Ruk's cronies, digested what she meant.

Then it all made sense. The great evils of Haxor and Boter had just been very strongly proved to exist - could it be that the good on the other end of the spectrum, the GMs, may exist too?

Although the battle soon resumed as if the lull had never happened, the reports were already sent.

Ruk roared with rage as he broke free from the ice binding him; no mage had recast the spell to keep him immobilized. With nothing to stop him now, he unleashed the full might of his Boter-gained Dragon Slasher magic. On all sides of him scantily dressed mages and warriors in full amour alike flew backwards in the air like matchwood. Naimee and Halire leaped back to avoid the attack. The lighter girl was able to retreat quickly enough, but the heavier male sniper was knocked by the edge of the dragon magic and fell unconscious.

Even before she finished her jump, Naimee had fired yet another crossbow bolt wildly at Ruk. A wild shot by sniper standards was still quite accurate in the opinions of any others. The shot grazed his left shoulder, forcing a small patch of skin to erupt and expose the raw flesh underneath. Like any other person would have, Ruk bled. It was the first sign that perhaps intervention mightier than the Mapleans or even the cults was starting to occur.

Still, by no means was he stripped of all his powers yet - faster than any hasteful assassin he rushed towards Naimee, spear raised. The speed of Haxor, Naimee thought. The battle was barely over - but at least neither of the parties were invincible now.

She struck out with her Silver Crow, slamming it hard against the crossed shaft of the Red Curve. Ruk was knockbacked a short distance, but he returned and jumping over her attacked her from behind. There was no time to aim and as Naimee fired an arrow behind her he was forced to avoid it, granting her enough time to turn around and dodge his angry thrust.

Caught in the middle of a melee, a sniper's worst situation... her mind dimly registered the wall of the Internet Cafe and she made her way towards it, avoiding both Ruk's and others' attacks headed her way in the meanwhile. More than once some random person who hated the Grosjager saved her, striking down one of Ruk's troopers about to hit her because she was fighting against Ruk's side. War makes for strange allies.

When Naimee finally reached the wall, her back was protected and she concentrated on avoiding the Red Curve and counterattacking with her arrows whenever she could. That was when she realized her mistake. True, the wall protected half of the area around her, but it also prevented her from using that area to dodge Ruk's attacks too.

In desperation she gambled everything on a bolt fired straight at Ruk's chest, knowing that if it did not stop him his Red Curve would sink into her own. The bolt never even reached the amour. Naimee had forgotten about the spearman skills, as an Iron Wall materialized and shunted the arrowhead away.

His eyes flashing triumph, Ruk plunged his Red Curve into Naimee's abdomen. It tore apart the weak piettra with no difficulty, skewered through her body, and continued until it jutted out from her back. The Silver Crow dropped onto the hard, unforgiving pavement.

Ruk laughed sadistically as he pulled his spear out of her body, twisting it this way and that as the scarlet blade shredded her guts. He turned his back to her and began to walk away.

Naimee fell backwards into the wall and slid down it, her legs unable to support her weight. Her final posture was that of sitting, leaning backwards against the wall of the Internet Cafe, as her lifeblood poured out from her body down to the ground, where it pooled and trickled down the nearest storm drain.

No Grosjager sniper failed.

But she had.

So she was not of the Grosjager after all.

Wait.

She was not dead just yet.

A few more moments, enough to change everything.

There was nothing wrong with the muscles in Naimee's right arm except that the blood it needed to function was soon to be somewhere in the Kerning sewers. But that would be soon, not instantly. Five litres of blood does not all drain out in an instant.

The fingers gripped tightly, and whether it was chance or fate, they gripped the familiar handle of the Silver Crow. The arm lifted up from the ground and pointed the crossbow at the retreating back of Ruk.

But there was nothing to shoot with.

Naimee wished for just one more bolt.

Her wish was granted.

A golden light filled her eyes - it was a crossbow bolt, created by the pure will of her soul. A Soul Arrow.

It did not need loading; of its own volition it flew, soundlessly, without the whistle of split air, when Naimee squeezed the trigger with her last ounce of strength.

In almost no time, the Soul Arrow reached Ruk's back. There was no screech of split metal. The Arrow disappeared into his chest and never came out again. It had fulfilled its duty... and Naimee's duty.

Naimee noticed none of these things; her vision was beginning to be clouded with specks of white. Strange. She thought that when she died, her vision would dissolve into blackness and nothingness. Wet coldness was landing on her, and when it landed on her abdomen - or what was left of it - the coolness eased the unbearable pain by just a tiny bit.

One speck landed on her arm, now fallen back into her lap. Her head bowed as her neck muscles failed from lack of blood. She could see the white speck thing on her hand in the centre of her vision. The periphery of her sight was already darkened.

The thing was a snowflake. For a moment, its utter beauty gave Naimee hope.

Then it melted on her hand, beauty forever lost, six-fold symmetry of perfection deformed into a shapeless puddle, the likeness of its intricate structure never to be observed again in this world or any other world.

As if from far away, the shouts cried "The GMs! The GMs are coming!"

But what was the use? They might win the battle - she had lost her life.

Giving up all hope, Naimee surrendered herself entirely to the void.