The Legacy of Meisal Mendadaughter~ Avengers fanfiction

Brother

Meisal was waiting, watching, from the shadows. She had a plan of her own, one that involved an ambush, and she was hiding from view, just behind a conveniently-placed rock that shielded her from view. She wasn't being cowardly, though-- the others all knew where she was and what she was planning on doing.

"Okay then," she heard Tony say (at least she thought it was Tony, she couldn't remember all of the Avengers names exactly). "You asked for it." Then came the sudden sound of what Meisal assumed was a rocket of some kind flying out of Tony's suit, and she knew the battle was on.

She peeked out from her hiding spot just in time to see Fsanian get creamed in the face with a rocket. He was sent flying backwards and landed with a painful crunch on his spine, his face smouldering and burned even worse now. Htic gave a cry of fury and charged forwards, flanked by the rest of Fsanian's entourage. Meisal named each one inside her head as they passed her by-- Qorxa, the tall, skinny woman with pale blue skin and bright green eyes, Mordea, big and beefy, wielding a double-bladed battle axe, his pale skin covered in a mixture of battle scars and tattoos, Denomi, small and thin, carrying two knives and looking murderous. Meisal knew them all, and she felt a sudden horrible feeling that she really was theirs. Like they owned her. Like she was their warrior, and they were her family.

Htic was fighting the best, as always-- out of all the pawns of Fsanian, he was the only one that was more well-liked than Meisal. He was always so passionate about what he did well-- sadly, killing was one of the things he did best. She watched him swing his sword and take out Arrow Man (Meisal had forgotten his name) while simultaneously kicking the spider-ling whose name Meisal was pretty sure was Paul in the face, sending both heroes flying backwards. The Arrow guy staggered to his feet, blood dripping from a fresh cut on his arm, and Paul shot a web right at Htic, which wrapped around the boy's arms, pinning them down. With a roar of fury, Htic slashed his sword awkwardly, cutting into the webs and struggling to fiercely that they began to break. This was clearly new to Paul, who began frantically firing more and more webs onto his opponent. Htic continued breaking them until he let out a primitive howl of rage and tore free of all of them, sending the tattered reminisce flying in all directions. Paul had about eight seconds to stare at Htic in both shock and utter terror before the warrior pounced on him, swords raised.

Oh, no, you don't, Meisal thought, racing towards the pair. She leaped right at Htic and collided with him in midair, knocking him out of the way and sending him sprawling several yards. Htic spluttered in anger, whirling madly to see just who had sent him flying, and when his eyes landed on Meisal, he froze.

"Meisal," he said, his voice stiff. Meisal glared at him. "Htic," she replied, "son-of-a-bitch, bastard, all those other names I had for you. You're here to bring me back, I assume?"

Htic rose unsteadily to his feet, sword held at the ready but not in a battle stance. "I'm here to bring you home, Meisal," he said, "where you belong. You're a soldier of Nox-- you were the champion."

"I never wanted to be anything like any of you," Meisal spat, "and I'd sooner die than go back to the life I've been held captive by."

 Htic extended his hands. "Come home, Meisal."

Meisal pulled away. "Go to hell, you bastard."

Htic sighed, raising his swords. "So be it, Meisal. Don't say I didn't try to make this easier."

"I had no intention of making this simple for you," Meisal replied, raising a sword of her own. "Back in the order, you loved fighting me. Time for another round, Htic."

**  **  **

Htic knew Meisal well-- better than anyone else in the Order. Even Fsanian himself, who had been hanging over the girl's shoulder for every second of he training, didn't know as much about Meisal as Htic did. He knew her feelings. Her thoughts. Her fighting style.