The Great Belligerency [Round 4: Static]

Originally posted on MSPA by Dragon Fogel.

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I will not be your pawn!

Cole tried to shout the words, but it was futile; the goddess may have allowed him to move again, but it seemed she had no use for his voice. This only enraged him further.

He promptly turned away from the younger Ur, and towards the crone. If he couldn't strike back verbally, then at the least he would strike back physically. He formed his arm into a mantis scythe, and raised it.

Sadly, he soon found his scythe-arm refused to obey, and it turned towards Amala. In the space of an instant, she raised her sword...

That sword should be mine, Cole thought. All I have to do is take it from her.
It would be a lie to say this was not a thought from Cole's own mind, but he knew - knew - the crone had somehow drawn it closer to the surface.

Amala, too, found a hateful thought forced to the front of her mind.
This sinful child dares strike back against the mother goddess? He shall pay with his life!
But unlike the mortal, she could not blame the crone for her temptation growing stronger. She had done this. She wanted to think it.

And she despised herself for it.

In both minds, an image flashed for the briefest instant - Cole drove his scythe through Amala's heart, she beheaded him with her blade. Cole found himself charging forward, Amala found herself preparing to swing...

I will not be your pawn!

With immense effort, Cole drew his scythe-arm upwards only moments before they collided. Amala's blade sliced through the arm, and it fell to the ground.

They stood there for an instant that felt like hours, their eyes fixated on the sword, still pressed against Cole's broken arm.

The crone was stunned - indeed, beyond rage. She had been so close! Amala's fury had returned to her for an instant. She would have destroyed the mortal, and that surely would have broken her, or at the least made her more pliable to the crone's words.

But now, that anger was fading. All because this mortal - this spiteful, petty, weak mortal, consumed by thoughts of hatred and vengeance - had dared to defy her!

She regained herself quickly, of course. Cole would suffer, but there were loose ends to take care of first. He still had his rage and his desire for the blade - and she could draw those out. He was, after all, but a mortal.

Cole and Amala slowly separated themselves, eyeing each other all the while. Amala held her sword defensively, and Cole regrew his arm into a claw. Neither wanted this fight, at least not under these circumstances. Both knew it was only playing into the crone's hands.

But their mutual hatred still lingered. Cole knew the crone would stoke his anger, and Amala feared hers would emerge once more if either of them moved to strike.

That sword should be mine.
The sinful child must face justice.

For nearly a minute, both simply walked in a circle, fighting less against each other than against their own thoughts. Cole's desire for vengeance was only held back by his hatred of the crone manipulating him, Amala's wrath was tempered only by her guilt.

It could not last. And it did not. They charged each other again, this time angrier than before. Cole raised his claw and Amala raised her sword...

And Cole's claw joined his scythe on the ground. He would have shrieked in pain if not for Ur's hold on his voice, but he also felt relieved at the narrowly-averted disaster.

His relief soon evaporated as Amala held the sword's point to his neck.

"Stand down, mortal," she said, staring into his eyes with barely-contained rage. "Stand down, and you will be spared my wrath."

How dare she tell me what to do! Cole's mind roared. Take the sword! Punish her for her hubris!
He should be grateful for your mercy! Amala told herself. Yet he still defies you! Punish his for his hubris!

But then something around Cole's neck caught the goddess' eye. A hollowed-out animal horn, tied to a string.

Instinctively, she knew it was divine in nature. Her fury grew. How dare this man steal from the gods?

"That is not yours," she said, pointing to the horn. "Surrender it to me, and you will have my mercy."

Why should I give you anything? Why should I give up what I fought so hard for? I need this for my vengeance! Cole thought.

And I can't even use it because I don't have a proper mouth, he told himself. What good is it to die over this?

Still unable to speak, he slowly nodded his head, mindful of the blade pointed at his neck. He turned his uninjured arm into an ant's foreleg, and lifted the necklace over his head, dropping it onto the edge of the blade.

Amala withdrew the blade, and the horn slid down it. She smiled.

"Perhaps you may yet redeem yourself, sinful child."

She held the horn to her lips, and sounded a single note. A moment later, she was gone, leaving Cole with two Urs, one near death and one furious.

"Where is she?" Ur demanded, grabbing Cole and shaking him furiously. He felt the strength leave his body everywhere, save for his mouth.

"I believe she's gone to pay Anansi a visit," he said defiantly. "And I have a few choice words for you about treating me as a pawn--"

She silenced him, and simply shoved him to the ground.

"You will only answer the questions I ask of you, worm."

Cole simply lay on the ground, helpless, his mind filled with ever more hatred of the crone.

He was beginning to despise her even more than Anansi.