After his seemingly unfortunate arrival in Kurayo, it seemed that Icarus would be set upon by the local populace of humans and others beset by various afflictions.  It was a veritable den of nightmares for some, but the sheer fact Icarus felt he would vomit given the means of his entry only served to forestall his apparent demise.  Instead, the delay had allowed him to voice his pledge of assistance and the townspeople happily accepted, believing it to be the equivalent of a death sentence anyway.

Within the clan meeting of the nine elders, Icarus was subjected to numerous questions.  Among them were those such as: "Why/How did you come here?" "What will you do in our village?" and "You do realize most of the people want to kill you?"  That last one made him chuckle, likely a bad idea amongst them, but he couldn't help it.  The situation explained itself.

When at last he was given the details of his task concerning his investigation in the forest, he had no questions of his own.  He simply understood that his success meant he would be permitted to return once more to the village whenever he chose to as his task was a death sentence if he should fail but a service to the community if he should succeed.  Personally, he didn't care about returning to the village, but the concept of dying was not something he favored.  He was still getting used to this body and to be rendered meat once more was not his favorite idea.

Outside the village, Icarus delved into the forest, eventually coming to find a headless child bearing a paper containing some sort of rules for him.  The concept of banshees irked him.  The undead always seemed to have that effect on him, particularly the kind that could kill a person without warning.  Before him was some sort of sick carnival comprised of the headless souls of those that had come before him.  Icarus shrugged at the sheer stupidity of the act.  He wished the banshees were a bit more straightforward.  This kind of ploy was so very exhausting when one tried to follow the rules of them.

Walking forth, the man formerly considered the Black Swordsman and the Demon of Kaerue aside from other titles wandered in, hoping to finish this quickly before that cloud came for him again.  The cloud was the whole reason he was here to begin with.  Silently, he cursed the cloud, hoping it was being thrown around by some sort of atmospheric disturbance or something.  

Icarus found the forest and this carnival to be rather troublesome, the headless souls of others bothering him with their constant prattling on like their lives hadn't ended.  He truly wished he were an exorcist or something of that ilk.  He'd purify them all and send them over to the next life like they all should have been.  These banshees were going to be cut to ribbons and whatever remained would be crucified.  That he was certain of.  Preparing to face his trials, he placed his mask on his face once more and proceeded forward.

“There's a caravan. A CARAVAN. I've never seen one.” Saffron made a pout lip for a moment but it looked like Desmond was out for the evening. She pushed some of her strawberry curls back before getting up. “I am going! By myself!” She looked to see if he cared but most likely he knew where she would be at and if she was in dangerous. “See you later.” She skipped out of the inn and looked at all the commotion. Something about hiring someone. All well.

She found herself out in the creepy woods. A frog jumped out at her and screamed falling down. Her chest raised and lowered as she shook with pure terror. At the site of the frog she got up dusted off her butt and kicked the frog so hard he went splat on a tree. “I am a very powerful individual who will not be scared of frogs! Even though they are gross and slimy.” She twirled her hair around her finger as she found the caravan.

She was stopped by a dead girl and looked towards her with a new horror. She had never seen a ghost before! She had never seen a cursed forest before! What the hell was she doing here? Oh right, she had been persistent about going. She took a moment to breath before she took the list. “What's banshee?” She had never heard stories about it. “I guess I'll find out.”

She wandered out of the fairgrounds and found a man with a mask on. She met up with him and got in front of him. Saffron was a petite girl with a small frame. Her crimson eyes watched him as she admired his mask. “What's a banshee?” She asked him gently.

Once the words left her lips words began to haunt the area. “We know what you did Saffron. Your poor parents. The way you killed them.” Whatever color Saffron had drained from her face as she landed on the ground and put hands over her ears.

“SHUT UP.”

”How many times did you stab him? Fifty? Sixty? When did you start smiling?” The banshees were known for bringing out the darkest of truths for everyone to hear.

Tears were rolling down the poor girl's cheeks but then something broke. The air if it had not been cool enough got colder as the ground had frost form on it near her. “They deserved it. They hated me. They abused me. They deserved what they got. It was seventy-six times I stabbed that bastard in his chest and face.” She could still see the blood everywhere. “And he deserved everything. Master saved me from that life. He gave me a new one.”

It happened before she knew. Her magic exploded in her hands as she got up and moved quickly. A scythe of ice and abalone shell in her hands. She had a banshee pinned to a tree. “And I don't regret a damn moment of it.” Her eyes were bloody red now glowing brighter with the rage she felt. The banshee let out terrifying screams as Saffron cut through not only it but the tree she had the thing pinned to.


Putting her leg up she kicked the remains of the banshee over. Though as her red eyes calmed out she jumped back and looked at the scythe in her hands. A manifestation of her misery and resentment. She could feel it. She turned around to the guy. “What is this?” She waved the scythe around. “I've never seen one.” She cleaned her cheeks where she had been crying and spotted a set of worn wedding bands on the banshee. "These were on the list.."

It didn't take long for Icarus to come across another being not among those of the ghostly ranks of undead.  Sure, she was rather pale, but at the bare minimum, she at least had her head still about her and appendages made of flesh.  Using those logical observations, he determined that although she may not be a friend, she was not a part of this madness nor was she inherently an enemy.  

Her question made him cock his head as she uttered "Shut up" with a force that could likely raise the dead.  Her curling onto the ground to obscure a sound only she could hear left him wondering if she were mad or if he had simply grown deaf to something that was nearby.  It was then he became assaulted too, unable to hear her pleading with whatever horrid words or sounds were perverting her mind, twisting her into despair.

"All the sacrifices others made for a simple failure.  You have given your life twice and accomplished nothing.  Your greatest achievements were the achievements of others.  Even slaying the one you fear was a task you could not accomplish.  What a joke you truly are," they called to him.

Little did these banshees understand that their words were not nearly as torturous as they were infuriating.  Icarus was a proud man, a man of conviction that charged headlong into the fray when necessary and cold and calculating when it was the appropriate tactic.  Glancing to his side, he could see the child growing angry, almost violent as the mental assault continued.

"Thousands died by your hand and thousands more by your failures.  You could protect nothing and cannot love others because they will wither and die while you remain.  Walk along the graves and it would take you a year to count them fully," the voice returned as an undulating wave that caused his blood to boil.

The darkness he had suppressed, his anger, felt as though it would rise to a point he could no longer control.  He could not recall the journies he had taken upon Dae Luin, only the many faces he saw there and the ultimate failure he had in saving that world.  It would not occur here.  The first step would begin with the condemnation of the banshees into eternal damnation where suffering lay unending and even their souls would beg for a merciful death that would not come.  

Ice permeated around the girl and Icarus took a step back.  In the next moment, the girl erupted as an icy demon of rage, a harbinger of frozen death striking a banshee down that he paid no mind to.  Indeed, it was another of the creatures hovering a short distance away that gained his attention as a cruel smile graced his youthful features.  

Exploding into wrathful laughter, Icarus ran in a sprint that seemed to surpass human ability, leaping over objects and boosting with one foot into a gliding jump from a stump of wood.  With his palm outstretched, he wrapped his fingers around the throat of it, pulling it down to the ground as ethereal hands lashed out with hateful claws at him, scratchign the mask and removing a chunk of it.  The hate the creature felt knew nothing of wrath.

Eyes blazing wildly from beneath the remains of the mask, he swung it wildly into everything he could find, smashing it down repeatedly into stumps and stones alike.  With each strike, the banshee fought back less until at last, perhaps two dozen blows, the being no longer fought back as he pinned it to the ground.  Mounting it and pinning both arms beneath his knees, he swung wildly with both hands.

"Every… last… damn… one… of… you… will suffer!" he yelled, fists becoming coated in black viscous fluid that made up the apparition's blood.  Each punch was like tearing a piece of its soul from it.

Taking spikes from the tent to his immediate right, Icarus drove on straight into the creature's wrist.  Now pinned, Icarus wiped his mask, forgetting it covered his sweating, manic face.  Yet, he took another of them, causing one of the flaps to unearth and sway with the breeze.  All the world around him was red as grasped it by the throat once more, looking around for a suitable place.  Satisfied with two nearby posts, Icarus removed the first spike, clutching two in one hand as he raised the creature up in his rage and placed it by the arm against one of the posts.  

Slamming the spike once more into the now ragged arm, Icarus quickly did the same with its other, crucifying it in a macabre display.  With both hands firmly wrapped around the stinking, undead creature's throat, he squeezed with a strength awesome and terrifying all at once.  The last breaths of unlife rattled out from its withered husk that formed its mouth and it shrieked a deafening cacophony of pain.  When its thrashing ceased, he reached one hand back, plunging it into the creature's filthy, decrepit form and disemboweling it, his hand covered in a deluge of rotted flesh and entrails.  

His other hand still wrapped tightly around its throat, he squeezed again, tugging firmly at an angle to break its neck.  Throwing his full body weight into it, Icarus removed its head entirely, lifting the skull by a pulverized spinal column which he threw to the ground and stomped under his boot.  Only after this happened did his nerves calm once more and he felt the cold sweat of his flesh at last.  
Looking to the banshee's hand, he saw the gleaming metal of the wedding band he was supposed to acquire.  Shuddering as a chill went down his spine, he removed it and placed it in a pocket.  Turning back to hear only part of the girl's words, he removed his mask at last, black blood and vitriol covering it after his gory display.  

"Yeah, the list.  Three more then, right?  I'm just getting warmed up," he said, cracking his neck as he returned to his emotionless state once more.

Saffron stood there and clapped happily at the scene before her. “That's it show them! They are deserving of such punishment! They say really nasty things.” She hugged her new toy to her as she looked it up and down. She did not understand why it was so cold or why she felt like it was her best friend.

She came over to him and noticed the hand. She bent down and with a sick snap she took it from the banshee. “It does not need it anymore.” She held it up to Icarus and waved to him. “My name is Saffron who are you man in the mask.” She took a string and hung it off the scythe. “Pretty.” Her red eyes were staring at him though. “I don't understand why they say such terrible things but can we kill them all?”

For a moment her head swarmed but she nodded. “I think we should kill them all!” She jumped a little bit as she held her scythe. The ice magic around it was calming to her. It was as cold as she felt. “They told me what I did. I don't want to hear it. I did it to escape a bad life.” Finally her sanity seemed to balancing itself. “I'm not a bad girl. They made me be a bad girl to escape. Master saved me. All I wanted to do was die and let the nightmare end. Instead he saved me and I am his. I like that.”

She walked and looked behind her. “Will you come? This way.” She pointed with the scythe. “We'll get farther working together.”

Still shaking from his actions and the emotions that had flushed through his system so abruptly, Icarus took a deep breath to calm his nerves.  When the girl spoke, it was like the world was so very far away.  Her words came to him, but they seemed like a distant echo trying to fill a void of unfathomable volume.

The scythe on her back made him think she was significantly more dangerous than he had originally believed.  Fortunately enough, she seemed far more interested in gutting the banshees than she was in the possibility of crossing blades with him.  Overall, she didn't seem too terrible of a person.  Sure, she was insane, but still not bad.

Icarus had known his fair share of those that were driven mad by some machination in the great wheel of life or another, but she wasn't too far down the path that she was liable to turn on him.  The girl's introduction, her name a wild plant, brought him back from his spiraling reality.  "Icarus," he managed, his eyes gaining focus on her once more.

"To be fair, they're already dead.  We can return them to the grave, though," he explained, glancing once more at the banshee he had decimated and desecrated.  By their very existence, they were a desecration of the grave, the souls of women murdered and left craving vengeance.  Their ill will toward those that wronged them became twisted until they simply craved the deaths and took the heads of those that lingered near the dying.

In other lands, they were among the fae that wailed loudly when the death of a great person was nigh.  Here, however, their perversion of the nobler aspects they were known for made them closer to wraith-kin than anything else.  The imprisonment of the souls of those they decapitated were enough evidence of such sacrilege.  Being a man of goodness and virtue, Icarus could not sit idly at the thought of the source of these spectres nor the actions they had taken since their birth into the ranks of the undead.

Icarus noticed the ice magic still radiating from her scythe.  It was like she had brought it as a part of her very being.  He couldn't recall when she drew it, but in her fit of rage, it was simply there, materialized from her radiating an aura of ice.

"No one wants to hear about the past they can't change.  I'll follow your lead," he said, resigning himself to following the girl, if not for her own protection, then for the serenity of his mind to return.  He worried about the wrath he displayed, the darkness he still harbored in his heart when his failures were brought back to the surface.  He could not change the path and it was likely the words he said were truly for his own benefit, even if Icarus did not realize it.

Saffron's crimson eyes bore into him. “Icarus.” She repeated to his name to get it into her member before looking towards her scythe once more. It was so familiar to her but she had never seen it before. It was on instinct that she hugged it to her as her eyes turned back to the human in front of her. She could smell him and it was very hard.

“I see. I've never seen one before.” She kept the scythe extra close as she examined the man. “Will Icarus try not to get get himself hurt? You smell good so I don't want to hurt you.” She had a lot of sadness in her eyes. “I don't want to eat you.” There was part of her that wanted to go out of control. “I want to be friends okay? Just don't hurt yourself.” Her voice trembled.

When they started to move Saffron looked forward. “For me it was rather recent. Where I died and where my life really began. I don't want to be told I was wrong for wanting out of a bad situation.” Tired eyes looked over at him. “It's very hard to concentrate in towns but Master says it will get easier.” She didn't know if he would be okay with what she was. “He said I'll get stronger.” 

She spotted one off in the distance before she started to sprint. Unfortunately for her the way she swung her scythe was the wrong method. It wasn't like a sword that she could hit any way she wanted. Confused she jumped back as she hardly made a scratch and even then she only noticed because the area where she had cut crystallized.

“Shit..” She quickly threw a basic ice spell out at the banshee just to blind it for a bit. “Okay so I don't know how to use this.” She whimpered as she spotted the next item she needed around its neck. Fast on her feet she got close and blocked its claws. “I just need this. THANKS!” She grabbed the locket and tore it off before flying back towards Icarus. “I'm still new at this fighting thing so perhaps you can help me out this time?”

Icarus cocked his head as she talked.  Eat me, she says? he thought to himself as his danger sense peaked a bit more when she uttered those words.  Was she some sort of creature?  He already worried about the display of magic, her scythe, and the seeming madness she had that continued to flow through her even as she stood still.

"Yeah, friends.  Don't worry about me.  If I start smelling too nice, let me know and I'll rub some of this on me," he said as he lifted his hand that was still covered in the entrails of the deceased.  At this point, a portion of him thought she may be of the variety that ate life.  If he became wounded, it could mean spilled blood.

Blood… Is she? he paused.  It was a distinct possibility given her words.  Icarus preferred not to tangle with potential allies so he neglected the urge to test his theory.  The words concerning death and rebirth only solidified his suspicions until the concept of vampirism became a reality before him.  The only one he had met that he could remember was his master, the greatest of them all, from what he could gather.

He remembered the story his master once told him.  Cain awoke within his own tomb a year following the death of his mortal coil.  His hunger became so immense that he was nearly driven mad by the heartbeats of the mice echoing throughout his crypt as he hunted them down to taste their blood.  His strength came to him after feasting upon every last one of them and he at last was able to remove the stone sealing him in.

Following quickly as his mind returned and the girl departed, Icarus watched as a banshee easily dodged the brunt of the blow beyond her pitiful swing.  Had she really dispatched the other one earlier?  She looked now like a rank amateur, incapable of even holding her weapon, much less wielding it skillfully.  He shook his head and drew both his blades, the katana and longsword reflecting the moonlight.  

"You don't know how to use it?  What in the Hells was that earlier, then?!" he yelled, stepped forward to attack the banshee as she grasped the locket from its chest.  

Running at a nimble sprint, Icarus bounded off a collapsed tree trunk and spun through the air, his flourish increasing the power of his blow as inertia and the blade struck with enough force to slice cleanly through the banshee's neck, dropping it immediately.  The pale moon light behind him gave the swordsman the appearance of a nocturnal angel, his grace befitting his cold, emotionless features as he cleaved through his foe.  His cloak billowing behind him, he descended once more, landing in a kneeling pose as he rose to his feet, seeing the results of his effort laying crumpled in a heap on the ground.

Turning toward the girl, he walked close, rubbing some of the black blood of the undead creature on his face and predominantly his neck to suppress his scent more.  He looked at the weapon in her hands and stared her in the face, trying to appraise her abilities better.  Sighing, he recalled the way she held it and moved to strike the banshee.

"The weapon you use is entirely focused on circular motion.  It's easier to wield if you swing and use your body weight to gain momentum.  If you miss your first swing, don't stop.  Follow the momentum and change the angle," he explained as he stepped back to demonstrate with his sword.

Placing his katana back in its sheath, he took his longsword in both hands.  Icarus began with a slow, wide motion to signify the motion she should use.  Following through, he continued with a near-pirouette into another motion that brought the blow from under and came up.  Following again, he twirled the weapon over his head to strike high and then once more to bring his blade down.

"Try it a few times and gain a better grip then let's be on our way," he said, finished with his display.

Saffron gave him a friendly smile and nodded. “Alright I will.” She held her scythe more at ease now that she knew he would be friends with her. It was not that she was naive but because she honestly believed him. He could kill her if he wanted to, she had seen what he had done.

After they were caught up in the fiasco that Saffron had caused she looked at him panicked as she held the locket close. “No! I don't remember what I even did! Much less how I got this!” She looked down at the scythe angrily. She wanted to know how to use it. Her eyes watched as he skillfully killed the banshee. She envied him being as strong as he was.

Saffron made a face before he came over to her. “It is?” She looked towards the scythe and tilted her head. “I think I can do that. Well there's no think I have to.” Moving her crimson eyes over she watched as he swung his sword. She studied it closely. That was one think she was good at was learning. She nodded to him before finally finally giving it a few light tries like she didn't know what she was doing.

Finally with all her might she swung and lopped a tree right down. “So that's how this thing works.” She jumped around happy she got it and smiled up at Icarus. “Thank you! Master will be so pleased to know I'm learning.” She hadn't had any true experience yet.

She wrinkled her nose up at the smell coming off Icarus. It was stronger now and if she remembered right Desmond had told her about dead man's blood. She shouldn't consume it. As they continued on their journey she stopped. “I hear something.” Maybe he couldn't hear it but it sound like a faint beating. “It sounds.. like a heart?”

For a moment her head hurt. Saffron knelt and put a hand to her hand. Memories flashed fast and her eyes shot up. “Not this again.” She dropped her scythe and took something out of her boot it looked like a dagger. As soon as she saw the banshee she jumped it slamming it down. Repeatedly the dagger went through the upper torso and head. Disgusting blood was going everywhere.

By the time she was done she was crying. “Why can't you leave me alone.” She was stabbing at it with less force though there was hardly anything left by the time she got down. Innards were everywhere near her as she sat there crying. “He deserved it. They both did.” The scythe appeared by her and she picked it up dropping the bloodied dagger. After she took a moment to herself she dug the heart out of the organs she had thrown about and looked at Icarus.


“I want to kill them all.”

It didn't take too long for the girl to gain a mild understanding of her weapon.  Icarus was perhaps a bit proud by his ability to teach and mystified by how quickly she learned to gain control over the cumbersome weapon.  Indeed the weapon was clearly as much a part of her as the magic that had summoned it from realms unknown.  Even now, ice lingered about it and the air fogged around it.

He wondered about her master, but now was not the time to inquire further.  They were in dangerous territory and his mind was already traveling a mile a minute now that he was in a calm demeanor once more.  Their position was too exposed, too many directions from which an attack could arrive and there was no guarantee the spirits themselves wouldn't turn on them.  Given his seemingly utter lack of offensive magic, only she would be capable of guarding them.

After only a few minutes had passed, the girl led them further before stopping once more, her enhanced senses picking up the banshee's undead heartbeat even before it appeared.  Icarus wasn't subjected to the sounds of the banshee's voice echoing into his head as he had been last time.  Instead, it seemed sanity was being taken from the girl once more as she lashed out with her dagger.  

Although the scythe had been unwieldy, she seemed rather enthralled when it came to using her dagger, almost lusting for the chance to use it with the way she continuously stabbed the banshee.  He looked around, almost unwilling to even remind her that he was there in the event her stabbing fit wasn't quite finished.  She broke down and kept reassuring herself of whatever had happened in the past being required.

"Well, should only be one left then," he said as he shook his head.  Off in the distance, he could hear the wailing of the last banshee.

Saffron picked herself up after a while and dropped the heart into a bag she had. With her scythe in tow she grabbed Icarus by his arm and looked up at him. “Don't ever hurt anyone you love and don't ever leave them alone. It's the worst feeling in the entire world to have someone who is suppose to love you hurt you.” She pulled him along to the last banshee.

“I just want to go back to Desmond now.” She was done playing the banshee's games. It was a long distance to the wailing but she was suffering silence. The fog was getting thick now but Saffron's eyes were not fooled. Even for being untrained she could track well. It did not take her long to pinpoint the location. “There.” She lifted his arm up in the direction before taking off to stalk.

She was suddenly more methodically and did not want to be hurt. Red eyes peered from the fog as she reached for the banshee and ripped the very thing she needed from its existence. She waited for Icarus before running off into the night finally done with her task.

She wanted to cuddle with Desmond and get the demons out of her head.