Mr. Zaharie did not give a reply to her idle question. Nor did Sir Josh ('For good measure!') found it right to rebuff her genuine worry. The former reply was understandable. Though Marianne did not have any ulterior motives on her question, she somewhat understood the ninja gravekeeper a little just by observing his mannerisms. She was a little like him it seemed, once upon a time, preferring to carefully guard herself from the world and especially from people she could not fully trust, all the while battling her inner demons which she sometimes felt could devour her completely….
It had not changed much, actually. She just became better in donning her various “masks”.
The latter reply was a pleasant surprise. As one of her uncles Sir William Marshal repeatedly said to the newest recruits of Redwing Battalion, “The difference between bravery and foolishness is whether the risks you take are necessary or not.” Had they stayed back, let the baboon’s boomerang flew towards them on the other side and hit the baboon before returned, and let the turbines safely spun again to avoid having to hang on to dear life by the rotating bridge sudden descent, would the outcome be any different? Whether hanging or standing firmly on ground, did not what they did was hitting the baboon back with a boomerang of their own? All it needed was a moment to at least figure out how the rotating bridge worked before jumping on top of it. Thankfully, those who did not have a clawshot did not immediately followed his example….
Marianne shivered a little, imagining herself or Sir Tart plummeted down the abyss without a clawshot to hold them when the bridge receded…. Sometimes, all you need is your best judgment.
The baboon fell down, and successive attacks from Sir Tart, Mr. Zaharie, and Sir Josh mercilessly barraged it. Still, it was far from defeated. Seemingly angrier than before, the baboon climbed back on a pillar (‘Why didn’t we quickly pin the baboon to the ground while we were in close range instead of sending it flying? And it was wide open, too….’) and whipped another tornado. But this time, it was a vastly different sort. It was seemingly infused with-
Marianne blinked. ‘Again, just like that silver-haired man said…’
She did not have time to think however, for at that time Mrs. von Brandt grabbed her and steered both of them out of harm’s way, but also further of the shield of the trusty darknut. Surprised by the sudden jolt, Marianne drew a sharp breath and gritted her teeth in pain. Even Donna the monkey yelped and clung to her neck tightly, hiding her face in Marianne's hair. She had not been manhandled this roughly before, certainly never by her ever-composed mentor. Well, except that one time when she had to be violently yanked out of a mysterious circle which drained energy from the whole inhabitants of the castle. Until now Marianne did not really know how she made the circle and why-
Mrs. von Brandt’s biceps tore open her clothes' seams right in front of her eyes. Marianne gasped.
“Mrs von-“
But at that time, something else demanded her immediate attention.
A quick glance towards Sir Tart registered his position relative to the tornado. And so was Sir Josh and Chaska. The tornado seemed to be closest to Mr. Zaharie, but this would be to their advantage. Mr. Zaharie was the nimblest of the group, on par with Chaska. He would have no trouble jumping out of the incoming blast….
Except that, instead of running away, he collapsed on his knees and waited.
For a split second, Marianne was flabbergasted. She had opened her mouth, wanting to shout something towards the gravekeeper…. Something…. Anything to snap him out of it and get him out of harm’s way…. He's helped them so many times. The princess did care about him....
But her hands moved faster than her mind.
Her voice had not left her throat when her left hand acted. In an instant, a large phantom hand, darkness given form, gripped Mr. Zaharie and yanked him out of the tornado’s path, moving him to a safer corner of the room. The hand was larger than the gravekeeper and sturdier, yet it somehow carefully wrapped itself around him so that his joints, especially his neck, was held firmly in place. It also made sure to came to a halt in a gradual manner, all to avoid acceleration-deceleration injury from such high-speed movement. Even in an emergency, it seemed Marianne’s spell still reflected her personality.
It was then that Marianne's voice finally rang out.
“Mr. Zaharie, watch out!”
But the gravekeeper should already be on his way to safety by now, and so there was only one thing to do.
Her left hand was still moving, conducting the phantom hand, but her right hand already prepared a nasty surprise for the baboon that might end this circus right then and there….
Only for the darkness to dissipate. Marianne’s lithe fingers, instead, came to rest on Mrs. von Brandt’s back.
‘Stay with me, Mrs. von Brandt,’ the soothing darkness permeating from her hand declared, ‘Don’t leave me. Please. Stay with me….’
Once, there was a child who found herself lost in the shadow. A child who dwelt in darkness so deep she could not get herself out.
The child shivered there alone, cold and afraid.
At that time, there was a hand that touched her, telling her that everything would be alright.
That she could control the darkness. That she should not wallow in fear and self-loathing. And that she must challenge herself to become better.
That hand told her, without speaking, that she had hope. That nightmares do end, eventually. That there were people who understood what even her own mother did not.
That she mattered.
Marianne never forgets the feeling of that hand.
And neither, it seemed, her own hands.
The magic radiating from her hand felt exactly the same, drilling straight into what shred of consciousness lied behind those rage-filled death glares.
‘Stay with me, Mrs. von Brandt. Please don’t leave me....’
- Marianne's phantom hand (Expert: Fist of the Wall Master) swipes Vlad away to safety!
- Marianne tries to soothe the rage-filled Ursula!
- If Marianne is forced to do something fatal to her beloved mentor, mint will be very, very sad
