"Hey, Linar," Harley said, slamming the food supplies down on the table hard enough an apple bounced out of the bag and fell onto the floor, "the old fusspot gave me a message for you. They want to do the maiden ceremony in two weeks and they want the silver-haired psycho bat to perform it, so they thought you might know where she is or where to find her. So they want you to go bring her back in time for the ceremony. I told the old coot that you were a researcher who couldn't see his hand in front of his face or walk more than three feet forward without catching sight of a fascinating pebble from dynasties past, much less fight off a monster, so he said that I should come with you, then, our duty as 'native Asgardians.' Or Aisha will have to dance, and who knows what will happen then? So get your bags packed for a road trip, buddy. I can't believe that geezer thinks he can order us around like that."
Linar looked up. "Harley? You're back with the groceries? Aisha came back and then left a little while ago. She said that she'd do it for me and was going to go head him off."
Harley cursed and cuffed him on the head. "Linar! Didn't you hear what I've just been saying? The mayor wants you to go find Raine so she can do the dance again, and now Aisha's gone to get her because she knows you would last less than a second traveling outside of the city! We've got to go after her!"
"What?" Linar anxiously scratched his head. "Aisha's gone out of the village, alone, to find the Professor? We're going after her?"
Harley clapped him on the shoulder and sighed. "Finally. Get your stuff together, and no million tons of research you can do where we're going or that you want to show the Professor. We're going to travel light and fast. Surely Aisha can't have gotten too far. Get going. We leave in an hour." With that Harley dashed to his and Linar's cots in the corner, digging frantically under his for his bomb-making wiring and supplies. Linar sighed and scratched his head again puzzlement, shuffling his notes up and worrying about his sister desperately, unable to repress the ever-growing feeling of excitement accompanied by a thought: I get to see the Professor again …
And to actually leave Asgard …
--
"Right, men." Harley marched before his line of people standing in front of the entrance gate, which was just a bored, nervous-looking Linar awkwardly wearing a pack and scratching his head. People were stopping to stare at the latest of 'those two nuisance Aisha has to put up with, and a half-elf at that'-type typical diversion. Harley glared at them. "Pay attention, now, because I'm only going to say this once, trainee. You may be a lily-liver. Your skin may be as paler than the parchment you study daily. You may not be able to see without incredibly thick amounts of glass. You may have unwittingly let out a demon once and nearly gotten your sister eaten and wimped out when we tried to save her. You may seem so wimpy to the same sister that she went out into the world on her own because she was worried you would die if you did … but you really are not! We are going on this journey, trainee, to prove that even a spineless head-scratching bookworm like you can become a man!"
"I thought we were going to save Aisha," Linar muttered, glancing at the people near him furtively and blushing red in embarrassment.
"Right you are!" Harley yelled, striding back in forth with more enthusiasm. "Glad to see you've put some color in those cheeks, soldier!"
"Um … shouldn't we be going … ?" Linar offered tentatively. "Before we lose any more ground?"
"Right again! Forward MARCH!" Harley started moving jerkily out under the gate, Linar giving a shrug to the people around him and following timidly. "One two three four, one two three four, Aisha's out there on her own, we'll find her and bring her home, one two three four, one two three four, we'll go out to see the world, find the maiden and blow up some stuff, one two three four, one two three four, we'll prove that Linar's a man, if he can go on a quest then anyone can! One, two, three, four, one, two, three, four, keep MARCHING!"
The song went on. When Harley's mind couldn't think of anything good and rhyming he just reinserted the lines about Linar's dubious manhood. At first Linar was annoyed about it, but he soon got too enmeshed in the road to care. It was exhausting work, this traveling thing, and his shoes were collecting dust the way his feet were collecting blisters, making his pack feel much, much heavier than before, even though Harley had taken it and dumped it out when he said he was ready and discarded half of his supremely valuable research, leaving him with only the most basic field requirements. His back was aching and sweat was trickling down over burned skin. His glasses kept falling and he was afraid if he ignored them they'd fall off and crack on the ground. The only reason he was still marching was Harley's annoyingly repetitive "one two three four"s.
He was also carrying, for his own protection, a staff from the shop. Harley had decided his true talents lay in sword-wielding and picked up one of those on the complimentary tab of the mayor's. He'd taken to calling himself "The Buccaneer of Blades and Bombs" and pausing to pose every few minutes. Linar had known that Aifread guy who had stopped in a few months ago had been a bad influence.
"What time is it?" he managed to gasp out, alerting Harley. At this rate he was starting to get a little dizzy. His throat was dry and his head hurt. And every second second he tripped over another root. When were they going to reach the path? Where would Raine be anyway? The last time they had seen her she had been traveling the world single-handedly to stop half-elven discrimination, which would mean covering a lot of territory, and not just in Sylvarant. Of course, she had a Rheiard …
But her friends would have those, too, and they would know where she was, probably, so he just had to find the nearest one of them. Which would be her younger brother, Genis, down in Palmacosta at the Academy there. It had escaped the Great Tree's rampage and become a bustling center of learning second only to Sybak's research institution, more popular than that because it accepted half-elves and had one of the heroes of the World Reunification in attendance. Linar had gone to it when he was young and had always wanted to pay another visit, but after his parents died and he was called back to Asgard to be taken care of by Aisha he'd never had the chance.
"Ten minutes from when we started," Harley said, amused, looking him over. "You look bad, Linar. I guess we really do need to get you in shape. I'm not sure you're in good enough condition to get all the way to the road before collapsing, much less fight a monster if we happen to stumble across one. Actually, it's odd that we haven't seen one before now." He cocked his head thoughtfully.
If Linar had any breath left for speech, he would have groaned and told Harley that he should have known to refrain from tempting fate by now, or warned him about the bee and bunny rabbit advancing with vicious intent from the direction behind his back. Instead he just groaned, gasped fruitlessly for a second, and pointed, which made Harley whirl around and pull his suddenly awkwardly heavy sword out of its sheath. Linar tried to straighten up and stop leaning on his weapon-walking stick , to muster some sort of defense as Harley awkwardly swung and the bee reached down to swipe at his head and the bunny kicked up at him demonically, but he could still barely breathe, much less be sure of being able to totter over there and hit one of the enemies instead of Harley himself.
"Gah! Get off me, you demonic beasts! I'll kill you!" Harley yelled as he flailed about frantically with the sword, tottering as the bee bumped into the side of his head and swooped back in preparation to sting. "Aah! Linar, help me!"
"This … was such a bad idea," Linar gasped out quietly as he rushed forward, trying to swing his staff up in his jelly-like arms and avoid hitting Harley's head as he struck the bee away from him. He actually connected, miracle of miracles, the geek, the bookworm, whose only arm strength came from ancient tomes, whose coordination didn't exist at all – he sent the bee sailing a little distance away where it staggered in the air and straightened, buzzing angrily, gathering energies for an imminent and dangerous return. Harley finally got his sword up and slashed at the bunny rabbit, making it leap back and glower as he left a cut on its shoulder and stepped back, swinging his sword in front to hopefully deter it from leaping straight back into kicking his nether regions. Linar heard a whir and turned hastily from that, lashing out blindly with his staff and ducking as the bee whizzed overhead.
He pivoted with it, tuning out Harley's cajoling and curses. The bee made to rush for him again, and he half-raised his staff in a threatening gesture. It raced straight for him, a clear-cut course. He raised the staff up and, as hard as he could, whacked at it. The slender abdomen spattered. Behind him he could hear Harley's, "Aha! Die, you furry monster, die in your stupid furry rabbity blood!"
Linar rubbed the end of his staff on the grass and looked at it ruefully. Assorted little gooey parts and black blood were scattered, the remnants of the actual carcass having flown a few feet away, the stinger still twitching faintly. Linar's nausea rose and he was reminded of why, exactly, he was a researcher and archeologist instead of, say, a biologist.
"Well, at least you'll be good luck for me, rabbit. I heard your feet are good luck. Wouldn't want me to miss my first victory's spoils, would you?" Linar distinctly heard Harley say, who seemed to be talking to a dead bunny rabbit.
Linar turned to find him severing one of its paws awkwardly with his sword. "What are you doing, Harley?" he exclaimed. "That's disgusting! Leave the poor thing in peace!"
Harley rolled his eyes and dropped it. "Don't be such a wuss, Linar." Then he looked down at it and frown, suddenly squeamish. He grimaced. "Maybe you're right. I think they aren't supposed to be bloody when you put them around your neck." He let it drop and wiped his sword on the grass, brushing his hand against his pants self-consciously. "Come on, let's go. And be on the lookout for more monsters."
Linar found that the walking came a little easier to him after the fight, adrenaline released successfully pumping in a way it had never done in his life. After all, he'd never been successful. Even in a school for geeks he was the geekiest and was teased, sometimes in a more physical manner – but of course he'd never fought back, just tried to talk, to beg, to run. Then sometimes he'd nearly fallen on the hills around Asgard – gotten scrapes, had to be hauled back up by Aisha or his parents.
And, lastly and most terrible, both times he'd seen the wind demon. The first time, when he'd pulled away the tablet, and it had come out - horrifying. Its black-green and its cloud and the blade he knew was more than sharp enough to slice him in half and toss him away in two pieces like a doll a bratty child had discarded. And its voice. "Bring me a maiden …" When he scrambled down the hill, he had been absolutely terrified.
And then, when Raine and the others had been fighting it. So terrifying. But he couldn't help them at all, not when Raine cried and nearly fell off the stage – because he was weak. He had been the cause of the problem, and his only contribution had been to help her deciper the Balacruf artifact he had found. That night … the way Raine looked as she bent to the books of translation again, poring over the numerous meanings and conjectures, weary eyes burning with fervor and hand reaching up unconsciously up to brush her ink-stained silver-white hair away from her pointed ears …
"One two three four, one two three four, we're on the road and Linar's a bore, hopefully Aisha went down because I want to see the port, one two three four, one two three four, I'm a monster slayer and Linar needs work, we have to find the crazy witch for our mayor the jerk, one two three fo – LINAR! You aren't marching in time!"
Linar looked at Harley wearily. More than worry, he was starting to miss his sister. Somehow females had a magical power – contained in their hands – that allowed, aside from a few grumbled complaints, them to silence a male with a single slap to the side of the head. He wished Aisha was there with them. Hopefully she'd decided to go this way. But would she have thought of it? Or would she have decided to go to the city the group had rebuilt themselves before the reunification of the worlds, Luin? Linar had heard from the occasional travelers coming to see the stone dais that they had statues there, that one purple-dressed girl he had seen a few times they'd come back to visit, Lloyd, of course, and one – said to be the greatest attraction for scholars – of Raine. Linar wished fervently to see it someday.
"Pay attention," Harley snapped, irritated. "What if a monster jumped out at you? Or someone came down the road? We have a long way ahead of us. We have to go around the mountain, take a boat from Izoold to Palmacosta. And if we don't make Izoold today we'll have to camp outdoors."
"Camp outdoors?" Linar questioned fearfully. Outdoors, where the relatives of the bee he'd killed could wait until he was asleep to get him, not to mention the bunny's family, and whatever else might be out there … and the necessity of keeping watch, and the hard ground …. Linar had read the transcripts about the ancients' travels, and they all said the same thing about it: Not fun. They had to reach the inn by tonight.
"Yeah, camping. We'd have to trade off watches all night. Let's just hurry up, okay?" Harley asked, sounding slightly fearful.
"Definitely."
"Great. Alright, one-two-three-four, one-two-three-four, we-surely-can't-have-far-to-go, in-Izoold-Aisha-must-be-waiting-now …."
--
It was getting dark quickly. Shadows were lengthening fast, the sun had finished setting, blisters were squelching unpleasantly in the sweat from his soaked socks and dripping toes … well, that was what evening felt like for Linar, anyway. Miserable, frightening, and full of exhaustion and pain. They'd been ambushed several more times along the way, by more bunnies and bees as well as a hawk, a plant, and even a wolf, which had been absolutely terrifying to hold off while Harley took out his vendetta against bunnies, especially when it had left tooth marks on his staff. Now Linar used them as a groove to hold his hand on the staff as he used it to test the ground before he walked on it. As much as Harley falling into a ditch headfirst had been amusing …
"You know," Harley said, squinting, "we're still out of view of Izoold. We haven't even gone around the mountain yet. There's no way we're going to make it. We'll have to camp."
Linar opened his eyes, which has been scrunched shut temporarily repeating a mantra: Please don't say we have to camp out here, please don't say we have to camp out here, please don't … you just said it. This must be my punishment for being such a wimp all these years and not following Aisha. Goddess, I'm sorry.
"Shouldn't we go just a little bit further?" he managed to ask, because, no matter how much he was dying, it would probably be worse after sleeping on the dirt tomorrow and staying up half the night clutching his staff and scouring the night for monsters. "Just so we make sure to reach Izoold tomorrow?"
"No way. I'm not falling into another ditch headfirst. I'm sure we'll make it. Let's set up somewhere over … there … so anyone coming won't be able to see us from the road. I'll take first watch after we eat and cook. But we're going to need some firewood." Harley rubbed his hands together briskly.
Linar looked at him. "Monsters will be able to see us if we make a fire."
Harley strode away from him. "And we'll have nasty cold food if we don't. I, for one, will risk it. Aren't you looking forward to our first night out alone under the stars?"
"D-don't say it like that!" Linar protested, blushing, as he wearily followed his best friend into the bracken to hopefully find someplace to rest his aching flesh. "You're wrong, anyway. Remember, we snuck out when we were seven and slept on top of the dais? And Aisha caught us in the morning and made us do her chores for a week or she'd tell? That was the first time."
"Fine." Harley waved a hand dismissively. "Our first time on an adventure, then. Not in a safe little town. Alone with the rugged danger, where the keening cry of the wolf breaks through the sounds of the night and the leaves shift closer and closer to your little camp …"
Lianr shivered. "S-stop that. Save the horror stories for when we're back safely in Asgard."
"Where's the fun in that? Out here, at least they have practical applications. Haven't you heard of cautionary tales?"
"I have plenty of caution."
"Excuse me, I forgot who I was talking to," Harley retorted. "Sit down, little-boy-klutz. I'll go gather some firewood. You guard our junk. I mean, gear." He dumped the pack off his back with a heartfelt sigh of relief and wandered off into the looming, ominous, shadowy trees, whistling cheerfully. Linar didn't think he had ever seen so many monster-baiting signs in one place. If Harley didn't return, he would have to go looking for him out there …
He took a look around him and gulped. The woods looked much less inviting all alone, standing in the rapidly chilling air with two packs full of food, flint, bedding, books, and gald, his warm, fragile flesh, and only a sticklike staff to protect it all.
--
Genis stared out the window into the afternoon sunlight bathing the recently build government square of Palmacosta, frowning at the new fountain that stood, glittering with the water droplets it sprayed out, adorned by a gleaming statue of former General-Governor Dorr, the bastard who had betrayed the town to get a cure for his wife and hadn't even noticed his daughter was dead. No wonder the Desians had such a bad opinion of humans. Not that he agreed with them, of course.
Mostly.
He rubbed the side of his head absently, knowing that if Raine had been here and he had been talking out loud, that would have been a smack.
But Raine wasn't here, which was one of the problems. She had gone off, alone, into dangerous enemy territory on a quest to change something no human would agree with. Without him at her side to protect her – sis was a healer, for Mana's sake! She had dropped him off, more like abandoned him, here, insisting it was for the sake of his learning.
He could learn from books, like she had. Most of the classes here were useless anyway. After all, this was Sylvarant, home of the backwards. Nearly all of their science and history was either hopelessly outdated or flat-out wrong. Of course, they were all human, too, so they didn't have any classes for magic. What a waste of time.
You know what you could be doing.
"Shut up, Mithos," Genis grumbled. The voice in his head was the only reason why he hadn't left already. That was what it was telling him to do. He'd been hearing it since, a week after the final battle, everyone had recovered fully and were deciding what to do about their Exspheres. When he took his off the voice had jumped from it and entered his head.
I'm not a just a voice, you know. I'm a soul. And you're being wasted here, Genis. These people are wastes. What are they doing of importance? Nothing. They're all just stupid wastes of breath and mana. They don't deserve you. They even avoid you since they found out you were a half-elf. No one likes half-elves, even if they're heroes of the World Regeneration. Can't you see why you need to leave?
"I said shut up," he growled, pressing a hand, hard, onto his forehead as if he could push him out. The problem was he did see. Without her exsphere, Raine would have a hard time casting light magic, and even her staffwork couldn't defend her from arrows or multiple assailants with swords. She needed him. Even without the enhancement, he could have still cast most elemental magic, and Mithos' soul was supplementing him, anyway. He'd found that out when, on a whim, he tried to do Indignation. The empty field he'd been walking through was still a black and smoking wreck. If he'd done it in the still under construction city there would have been chaos.
You're just going to listen to your sister and stay put? It's your job to look out for her. I listened to Martel instead of protecting her like Kratos showed me, and what happened? She sacrificed herself. You know how many people hate half-elves. You have to protect her. There are worse things than bigoted humans out there.
Genis froze. "What?" he whispered. The thought of Raine being set upon and torn to pieces by a mob of hate-filled humans was more than enough. What could be worse than that he couldn't fathom, considering everything they'd went through on the Regeneration.
There are monsters out there that slowly poison their prey and drag them back to their lairs to eat them, waiting for them to die in agony for a full seven days. There are traps in ruins that can leave someone pierced between them, helpless, bleeding to death, or rooms where one can be trapped in and suffocated alone and in the dark, with no one to find them and every breath more labored. There are humans out there who consider it sport to keep and beat and rape half-elven women, and no one to stop them or punish them. Oh, and Kvar, Pronyma, and Forcystus and their Desians, who I can't imagine would be too happy with someone of their race who betrayed them, killed their leader, and blew up their bases.
Genis gasped, his world falling down around his ears. "Kvar and Pronyma and Forcystus! You've got to be kidding me! They're – they're dead! And Raine's too smart for those monsters!"
Did you stop to check their pulse? I had them transfer some of their mana to me when they became Grand Cardinals, so I would be able to track them if they betrayed me. I know they're alive. Smart people can get unlucky, or make mistakes, or be overpowered or caught off-guard. How concerned for her welfare can your sister really be if she publicly announces that she's going to go out, alone, on a quest to stop discrimination of half-elves? She's already made herself enemies just for being who she is, let alone what she's doing. Anything can happen to her alone in a city, as an easy target in front of a large crowd, alone on a road bandits frequent or in the woods where the monsters lurk. How many monsters can a healer with a staff take on? Not many. How many humans, or soldiers? How many Desians? Not to mention casters?
Genis paled slowly under the weight of the list, analytical mind realizing that Mithos was exactly right about every one of these dangers, without countless more besides. And Raine was practically helpless out there with no one to look after her, all alone on a mission against the world. She could even die from her own cooking, for Mana's sake! She needed him! She could be dying right now and he wasn't there for her.
But she'd told him to stay here.
She didn't know about the Grand Cardinals, though. Assuming she'd take the word of the voice in his head who claimed he was Mithos Yggdrasill.
And didn't decide he was insane. Or worse, possessed. Or even worse, go off about the shattered Cruxis crystal's effect and the possible imprinting of its conscience upon Genis for carrying it all that time and the abilities of a soul that, unlike the other shattered exspheres, didn't want to go on to its eternal rest, and the need of such a soul to share a host body.
You could get protection for her from the Desians, if you went to them. I can change your body to look like my old one. They'll listen to me. We could even send them out to protect her, to make sure she stayed safe. Or bring her somewhere else.
"But you stabbed Pronyma," Genis argued with the voice inside of his head. "Why would she want you back? And Kvar is a traitorous bastard. They probably wouldn't even believe it's you. They'd just kill me. And Raine would attack any Desians she saw. She wouldn't just go somewhere I told her because she'd be safe."
You could explain it to her. Make her see sense about how humans really are, or tell her the Desians are reformed and want to help promote the freedom of half-elves. She'll believe it. You can keep her safe from Kvar, Forcystus, and Pronyma. What about your other friends? Do you suppose they won't go after them? The Grand Cardinals aren't known for letting things go.
"So what do I do?" Genis asked Mithos. "What can I do? I'm just me. I'm not strong enough to protect them all."
I am. And you are, with me. She left you your Rheiard, didn't she, in case of emergencies? I can show you where they are. It's the only way to keep Raine safe. I know. I lost my sister. I can't watch it happen to you, too.
"You're right." Genis stood up, suddenly very much determined. "I have to keep her safe. No one else will. After I pack, I'm getting out of here."
A quarter of an hour later, a Rheiard took off from just outside the city of Palmacosta. On it was a grim-looking boy with silver hair, heading west. Only one person saw or cared that he left, much less noticed his direction.
--
Mighty Washington watched Genis disappear, panting, leaning on his knees just outside of the Palmacosta gate, where he hadn't been since he was fifteen and gotten the Palmacosta Academy scholarship. His best friend, competition, and roommate had just disappeared.
He had been coming back to the room to convince him to do something after his classes, of which there were far more than Genis, in an effort to show him up, only to find that everything of Genis's was … gone. And there was a silver head disappearing across the bridge.
Mighty had thanked Martel for his friend's distinctive hair coloring and dashed out of the room and down the two flights of stairs, something he only did when late for a class, out the door, across the square, over the bridge, down a side-street and to one of the lesser-used gates of town, just in time to watch Genis vanish for sight, the small amount of breath he could muster on crying out useless. He still stood here, staring after. Why would Genis go without even telling him? How could he? What had happened, to prompt such an abrupt disappearance?
Had something happened to his sister, that silver witch who had smacked him for his rudeness and corrected his grammar?
Had something happened to that red-jacketed idiot who thought memorizing the multiplication tables were a genius-worthy feat?
"Are you all right?" a female voice asked, shaking him out of his reverie, causing Mighty to look up at one of the few people currently entering the gate, a blue-haired, kindly-looking young woman. "You're a student at the Palmacosta Academy, aren't you? Do you happen to know Genis Sage?"
"He was my roommate," Mighty replied glumly. "He just flew overhead. He took all of his stuff with him. I hope it wasn't urgent, because he's gone. I don't think he'll be coming back."
She groaned, sagging a little. "This is what I get for taking over Linar's quest. Now I have no idea where to go."
"Who are you?" Mighty asked curiously, extending his hand and half-straightening with difficulty, face still flushed. "What do you need Genis for? And how do you know him?"
"We met in Asgard, where his sister took my place and danced on the sacrificial dais to draw forth the wind demon and kill it," she said, shaking his hand with a pleasantly soft grip. "I'm trying to find her, actually, for a repeat performance. I'm Aisha. What's your name?"
"Mighty Washington," he said dazedly. "What are you going to do now?"
She frowned. "I suppose I'll have to catch a ship here and head from Izoold to Iselia," this Aisha said, deciding. "The Chosen still lives there. She might know where the Professor is, and the Eternal Swordsman visits often on his journeys."
The next words tumbled out before he could stop them. "Can I come with you?" Mighty asked, thinking of traveling outside the city gate like his father used to and he did, once, and of Genis, and, of course, of the beautiful blue-haired woman in front of him, who smiled warmly and said she'd be glad to have the company.
--
Raine burst into the Sybakian Council Room, triumphantly waving her legalized piece of paper in the air, accompanied by the new Pope and a squad of the Royal Guards. "There," she said victoriously, slamming down the paper onto the table in front of the stunned Dean. "Signed by the King this morning. By law, all half-elves are now legally free, able to marry and procreate, legal citizens, able to hold jobs, hold property, publish scientific and historical documents in their own name, carry weapons in the case of self-defense, and receive legal justice in Tethe'alla both as the accuser and the accused. Now what do you say to that? I demand to speak to your former intellectual slaves at once, Council, and they will be leaving with me or staying on with proper living conditions and wages. The Pope and these guards can confirm that."
"Chosen?" the Dean questioned weakly, looking at Zelos in a bewildered, pleading manner. "Surely you are not on the side of this heresy, this mockery of our livelihood?"
"I suggested it to the King myself," Zelos said smugly, leaning on his desk. "I wouldn't call something heresy if it is condoned by both the Pope and the Chosen of the Church of Martel if I were you, Dean. Now, we'd like to speak to those half-elves about other places of employment.
"Why are you doing this, Chosen?" he asked pitifully. "Why would the Chosen condone such a thing, when a half-elf killed his own mother?"
"Anything for one of my hunnies," Zelos said, smiling cheerfully. "She wasn't much of a mother anyway. If I were to blame a species for the crimes a single person had done to me, I'd certainly hate all humans, too. Did you think I liked being the Chosen?"
