Chapter 2: A Silent Option
Birds were singing; the grass patted his cheek in the wind. Of course. Back here. He wanted to know what was bringing him back. But for the moment, he wanted to know if he could save those he could never save.
"State your name."
Flynn let his mind drift, sliding back into the clouds of dreams. Right, this had been the first sign that anything odd might happen to him. That he might be anyone special. What would happen if he kept silent? If he didn't give a name.
"State your name."
No. He was tired of these games. And if he had to play, he was going to find a way to play beyond their expectations.
"You have been called for a grand mission. State your name."
No.
"Hoy..." a familiar voice said, nudging him. "Hoy Flynn, wake up."
"I'm awake," he mumbled, opening his eyes. His vision was hazy.
"You don't seem it," Issachar said, then went on with what he usually said. Flynn got up and nodded along. But what was going on had already been decided in his mind.
They headed off to the capitol, a walk that took half an hour from Lake Mikado. It was a nice morning for it, clear skies and a warm sun. Closer to the city, kids were playing outside. They must have been Luxuror kids to have the time to be playing, or maybe the Casualry didn't have as much to do here. Inside the walls, the city was peaceful with contented people all around. Aside from some snide remarks from Luxurors who were especially prejudiced against village Casualries, it seemed like an ideal place to be.
They didn't talk as much as usual, mostly because they were around strangers. But Issachar was very focused on passing the rite. From old memories that were growing faint, Flynn knew that his friend had done many things trying to earn God's favor to pass the rite: praying every day, daydreaming about it, psyching himself up to pass. Although, none of that counted. Nothing anyone here believed in mattered in the Gauntlet Rite, although a few of them suspected the truth from the few constants.
At Aquila Plaza, they joined a large crowd of youths that were all eighteen as well, along with some spectators or traveling companions. Issachar's nineteenth birthday was in a few days; he could have come last year, but had decided to hang back for Flynn, who's eighteenth birthday had been only a week ago. There was no formal order to the rite, just what order they had come in. As usual, Flynn let Issachar go first as he was the older of them.
As usual, he failed to activate the gauntlet. That was because it was tied to Flynn already. Last cycle had proven that the gauntlet they were using to test people with right now was only going to accept him.
He knew that gauntlet well. When they called him forward to accept it being put on him, it was a familiar weight, with a bit of discoloring on the side that had always been there. They were difficult to destroy, made to endure battles with demons. And, the screen was a bit dusty. He always did some cleaning of that to make it usable for tomorrow. But even before the monk with him began the prayer asking for acceptance, the gauntlet had already recognized him as its rightful owner. The screen was already asking to be engaged past sleep mode. So even without giving his name, his life would change greatly anyhow.
But, there was one of the corners that didn't take input as well. It too had always been like that, although he could never remember it being an actual problem. The few icons that would be over there were large enough that he could activate them touching just outside the problem corner. Right now, though, if he touched that corner when asked to put his hand on the gauntlet…
It didn't activate. He'd failed the rite this time.
He walked back over to where Issachar was waiting. When their eyes met, he shook his head. Issachar rubbed his head, disappointed and upset, although Flynn only noticed that in knowing him so well. Flynn patted his arm, then continued walking out of the plaza. His friend was quick to follow.
"Man, all of our work turned to nothing in an instant," Issachar said quietly. "And we came from so far too. Kind of a waste if you ask me."
"It's what we had to do," Flynn said. "Now what?"
"Only thing we can do is go back home," he said, although it clearly was the last thing he wanted to do. "And then everybody will be bugging us about getting married and starting a family, joining them in doing the same old thing as everybody else. But, nothing else we can do." Issachar sighed softly. "I know God's supposed to have the wisdom to put us in the place we'll do the most good in, but, I don't feel like I'm doing much good. The fields need every hand the town can spare, yeah, but, what are we really there for except as another pair of hands to do work?"
"Everybody in Mikado uses the fabrics we make and eats the vegetables we grow," he said. "It does make all we did worthless." At least, until demons started cropping up. Then their sword practice would turn out good.
"Well, if it's God's will," Issachar said, not able to think beyond that for now.
A few other youths just outside the city tried to call them over, but Flynn managed to keep Issachar away from them.
No names. Only two new samurai when there should be at least three, more likely four. Nothing unusual about the day beyond the Gauntlet Rite. No special signs. No words from God.
Looking over her current journal, Gabby sighed a little. This was supposed to be the year. All the signs thus far had pointed to this year's gauntlet rite being when the necessary humans were brought into place. A mistake, perhaps? She abhorred the thought, but it could happen. Or, had something happened beyond her notice? She was working within the world, which could make the signs obvious from God's view harder to spot.
She spent many hours of that night in prayer, hoping for guidance.
She only got the usual silence.
God was watching. That was unquestionable. Then, God trusted her to do His work in the world. She wasn't doing anything wrong yet. But the path into the next great conflict was turning out much darker and thornier than she expected. She already had to handle this early stage alone.
She… must have made a mistake somehow. She turned back the pages of her journal, trying to figure out what might be wrong. Something was clearly wrong.
Once she figured that out, it would be up to her to correct it and make sure things went on the path of God's plan.
While Flynn did what he could to encourage Issachar out of his dismal state, it wasn't enough. It took Flynn a couple of days, but he got back into the routine of daily chores and community work around Kiccigiorgi. The whole town really needed to work together to keep up their production rate. As he was one of the stronger youths, he got asked to chop wood or help with other heavier tasks. But Issachar's work slowed greatly. He had little energy and no enthusiasm for anything.
They still met up at their usual times, when they used to practice for becoming samurai. Since that was an impossibility, Issachar had no more interest in that. Flynn would often finish his tasks and go over to the usual spot in the forest to find his friend already there. "You look dead to the world," Flynn said, going to sit near him on a stump.
"I feel like it," Issachar said. "I knew we could fail and have to come back, but I hadn't accepted it as a real possibility. I'm sure we showed our dedication and hard work to God. Why wasn't it enough?"
"Don't know," Flynn said, digging in his pocket. There was a brown and black card there, one that he knew he hadn't owned in this lifetime until his dream at the shores of Lake Mikado. Issachar wasn't looking at him, so he snapped the card to summon Trojan. The tiny demon already had its orders, appearing quietly and slipping out of sight.
Issachar must have caught some small sight of it, since he glanced over to where Trojan had appeared. But he quickly forgot about it, perhaps mistaking it for a dragonfly. "I just, don't know how I feel now. I want to be angry, but I can't be angry at God. He must have His reasons. I'm really disappointed, but everybody just says that's how it is. Everybody from Kiccigiorgi that goes out to the gauntlet rite always comes back; we haven't had a samurai from here since anyone can remember. But I really felt like I could change that. That, we could. You would've made a great samurai, I know it. You're a lot more like the samurai heroes from the stories than I am, actually."
"You could be great too," Flynn said.
"Thanks, but it doesn't really matter anymore. Everybody just says to get on with life, but I have no idea what my life is about anymore. I, I don't like the future I see ahead of me."
"What are you thinking?" Flynn asked, not liking where this was going.
Issachar looked up at him, the despair there all too familiar. "I don't want this life," he said in a quiet voice. "Even if… you agree with me, right? Because we worked together towards our dream, and failed it so easily. We tried to make something of ourselves, and… it turns out we can't. There's nothing we can do anymore, so, why…?"
Flynn reached down and touched his shoulder. He hadn't wanted to do this, knowing what Issachar's fate would be. "Hoy, don't give up so easily."
"Huh? But we don't have another chance..."
"We do," he said. "Not at becoming samurai, but I've heard that there's a group of other Casualry who've decided to travel around and find their own lives, rather than just doing as they're expected to do."
"Really?" Thankfully, that stirred some life and hope back into him. "That could work. But, where would we find them?"
Flynn shrugged. "I don't know that. I hadn't wanted to mention them because I thought I could get back into life here. But you're right, it doesn't feel right to just accept that. And I don't want to stick around here if it's going to make you miserable. So, let's go, like right now. We'll find the others when we find them, or we'll just make our own way."
The idea got Issachar to smile. "All right. Thanks, Flynn, I'm glad I can count on you. If we both feel like this, then maybe God can accept us finding our own lives, somehow."
That evening as they were camping out alongside the road, Trojan slipped back to Flynn's side without Issachar's notice. "Toot toot, #AllDataRetrieved. #IssacharGauntlet? #Confirmed."
"I thought so," he said quietly. Now it was a matter of getting that gauntlet into the rite in front of his own. There wasn't much time to get that accomplished, and Trojan was his only means of doing. "Your presence is becoming vital. Thank you."
Trojan gave a chirpy twitter, glad for that. "#BigHugs! #You'reWelcome."
"I may call on you again in this time, but that should be it for now," he said. "See you next time."
"#LetsDoTheTimeWarpAgain," it replied, then turned back into a card.
"For you, but I have to live this," Flynn said.
The initial Sabbath that Flynn and Issachar attended did not have the Black Samurai there. But it was just outside of the capitol so the baker was there. Perhaps he'd already turned, as he was capable of gifting both of them with the full ability to understand the mystic script. It would have been useful back when he had access to the monastery library. For now, though, it allowed Trojan to start relating things to him by making the script appear in the air. The tiny demon claimed to have lots of memory, so Flynn told it some of his plans in case something happened to hinder his ability to recall them and carry them out.
The books were interesting to read, now that he had the time to do so. But the important thing was that it lifted Issachar out of his funk. Despite having never been able to read the script before, Issachar now understood it well enough to read through the books they were given with astonishing speed. Flynn could not keep up with him.
"I think I could've made a better fisherman than a farmer," Issachar said, as he was trying to get Flynn interested in the latest book he'd finished off. They were sitting on the floor of a hut they'd taken for the night, since whoever lived here apparently wasn't around. "This book described it really well along with telling the story in a gripping and emotional way. And when I was just talking with Walter, I could describe the fish better and even tie and bait a hook quicker than him. Funny, huh? Just because of where we were born, we ended up with jobs we were ill-suited for."
"Well you are really good at lake fishing," Flynn said.
Issachar smiled, seemingly with the clouds. "Yeah. Though still, I'd have to try it out for a while to know if I could do it for the rest of my life. I just wonder why nobody thought of this all before in Mikado, that maybe a person's real talents can't be determined right at the start when they can't even talk. I mean, does it really make sense that a person's birth alone should decide their whole life? It's..." he rubbed his head, "it's horrible. That's why I felt such despair before, since I thought there was nothing I could do about my life." One of his eyes twitched.
"Issachar?" Flynn asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.
"Why did they do that to us?!" he asked, his eyes flashing red. They reverted back to brown for a second, then his body shook in painful-looking tremors. He tried to grab a stool nearby, only to knock it over. "Wh-why…. What..."
Flynn grabbed him with both hands, not sure if he could stop this now. Discolored foam slipped out of his mouth and Issachar looked afraid. Not having seen anything like this before, Flynn frantically tried to think of something he could do, anything. Maybe one of his demons… no, he hadn't found another summon stone; he wouldn't get his usual stock of items until he got his gauntlet back. He couldn't access any demons other than Trojan without the gauntlet and the fusion app. And as much power as he'd had, he'd always relied on demons for healing spells. But even if he'd learned one, would it be any help against this?
Then one of Issachar's tremors was so bad that it made his neck snap. He collapsed onto Flynn immediately, some leftover shakes going through him. But as his body fell still, it was no comfort. "Issachar?" Flynn asked, checking over him.
He knew from that sound, though. There was no way he could have survived that. Issachar was dead.
"I could never accept losing you after all," he said to himself, trembling less violently. "Maybe, that's why I can't get out of this cycle. Your death was never fair, not even last time. But this is just, it makes no sense whatsoever."
As he wondered what to do, he saw faint marks appearing under Issachar's skin. It was in patterns that seemed mystical. Then, this wasn't actually his death, just another part of the transformation. The Tokyo cases of demonic transformation happened so fast when one consumed the red pills that the details were still unknown to Flynn. That one certainly wasn't as painful as this.
It took another minute, but Issachar's head jerked and magic reset his broken neck. He still had a nasty looking bruise there, dark and still spreading. While he was undead now, he breathed again and opened his eyes. "Huh? Flynn? What, what happened to me?" He gingerly touched his neck.
"You became a demon, like some of the others," Flynn said. Because they could speak freely with each other, he added, "That was terrifying; I'd thought you had died."
"I thought I had died too," he said, then sat up on his own. He glanced over his body. "I don't look like a demon, not like the others."
"You can't see your neck," Flynn said. "It's not obviously demonic, but it certainly looks like you shouldn't have survived."
"Oh. I don't feel any stronger either." He smiled sheepishly. "I'd like to help the other guys out, but, looks like I'm back to not being able to do much."
Flynn shook his head. "No, don't think like that. If you wore a scarf or a high-necked cloak, you could still pass for human unlike the others. The two of us can still get into villages or even the capitol without raising suspicions, which the others can't."
"Oh yeah, and find others who need the wisdom we've found," Issachar said, smiling now. "Great thinking! We can still act as recruiters."
"That's right," he said. "Come on, we can let Walter know."
Flynn was sitting within sight of the main road, dressed in a fully covering brown robe and simple sandals. It was something he'd picked up on the last recruitment trip into the capitol, for precisely this reason. While travel was discouraged for all levels of Mikado citizens, there were plenty of tales of traveling monks who secluded themselves for the sake of communing with God for higher wisdom of His ways. It was considered impolite to disturb such a monk. So when a group of samurai passed along the road, searching for the Casualry rebels, they respectfully passed him without asking why he was there.
Once they had passed out of sight, Flynn adjusted the pole beside him so that the orange band was on top, replacing the red band that indicated he had spotted them. The orange one was an alert to take caution in approaching him, but no visible problems were around.
It didn't take long after switching for someone to slip over from their main camp and join him. "How many were over here?" Walter asked, keeping low behind the rise here.
"Twelve of them, including their commander," Flynn said. He'd also seen Jonathan and Isabeau among them, but he wasn't supposed to know them in this time. "Had some young ones too; must be getting low on numbers."
"Good, so we've definitely got them pressured," he said. "But we've got to find some way to get them back into the castle for a siege to work. We want them all penned in the central districts when we withdraw the Casualry in the outer rings. That way, we've got all the food and can make them realize how much they depend on us."
Even without formal training, Walter's mind was quick to grasp tactics of battle and war. They were never as refined as what Jonathan used, and he easily lost his head in the heat of things. But since Flynn did not want to stand out too much in this time, Walter was the best they had for a leader. Flynn nodded along. "If they keep sending out scout patrols like that, they could cut through us from behind with their demons and better weapons."
"Right," Walter said, then nudged him in the side. "You see what I mean, more than the rest of the guys who just want to tear stuff up. I mean, I do too, but we'll just invite our own destruction going in recklessly with farm tools and handmade stuff. If you and I had gotten in as samurai, well they wouldn't be facing a siege in a matter of days like this. But we'll show them the error of their ways."
"Right," Flynn said, wondering again how this would end up. Gabriel would probably pressure Jonathan to summon Merkabah, or maybe even someone else. The Black Samurai had offered to put them into contact with Lucifer, not calling him by name but it was clear that's who she meant. So far, Flynn had managed to dissuade Walter from that path.
"And your friend Issachar too, I think he should've been a samurai," Walter said. "That guy's mind is like a sponge; he's learning stuff so quickly just by reading about it. It's a travesty that he would have been left to wither away in ignorance. Nobody else among us can keep up with him mentally now."
"He's certainly happier here," he said, not about to reveal the darker side of that.
"But, you ever feel weird for staying human?" Walter said, glancing up at him instead of the road. "I mean, that's a weird question itself but, everybody else here has transformed. Not us two, even though I'm supposed to be leading them and you're my biggest help in that. I certainly believe that the Luxurors need to be torn down, and some guys say I'm like a demon in battle. Heck, I can still beat most of them with my bare fists."
"There must be a reason," Flynn said. "Other than Issachar, we've kept the sharpest minds of the group. If we weren't human anymore, this would be an undisciplined rabble, not a group who could pull off a siege of Mikado Castle."
"I suppose there is that," Walter said. "It's tough, though, getting them to listen. I have a feeling if I couldn't knock them around, they'd be jeering both of us for not changing. Though, they seem to respect you much easier. I respect you too; you're a reliable guy, you keep your head cool around these hot-blooded folks and you don't mind listening to me complain about stuff."
Flynn shrugged. "I know they talk about me behind my back, when they don't think I'm listening. Guess I'm lucky not to have one of the snap in front of me; I don't fight like you." Although he figured most of them could sense just how powerfully he outclassed them in magic.
"Well if they do give you trouble, I've got your back," Walter said without hesitation.
"Thanks," Flynn said.
The start of the siege of Mikado Castle went off flawlessly for the young Casualries. Walter was getting too recognizable as the human leading them, so it was up to Flynn and Issachar to sneak inside and shut the gates once all the Casualry were out of the castle and Luxuror districts. Then the demons started pouring into the outer districts. A few samurai were out, and quickly slain. Fires were set outside the gates as a warning to those inside: they'd die if they tried to get out.
An emergency meeting between the elder samurai and the king took place, followed by one where Hope addressed the rest. "They've got us penned in here with only the supplies and food we currently have," he said. "Not only that, but the demons within Naruku are getting restless. We've had to lock the gate to prevent them from bursting out and attacking us from within as well. As a result, our best shot at breaking this is going to be breaking through early and fast. We're going to bring together a few rapid strike forces who have strong reliable demons they can get over the walls so we have time to open the gates and break into the lower districts.
"And something important to keep in mind is that this group has been well-coordinated in spite of being comprised primarily of demons transformed from humans. We've noted before that such transfigured beings are wild and reckless, with no human restraint. Therefore, the more dangerous individuals in this siege are not the demons, but the few humans leading them: the Black Samurai, their figurehead leader Walter, and a person we suspect to be Walter's second-in-command, Flynn. We have seen the fighting capacities of the Black Samurai and Walter before, but we do not know all that Flynn is capable of. Do not underestimate any of them. We would prefer the three humans to be captured for interrogation, but kill them if that is the only option available."
Jonathan felt angry about this. Why did these people think turning into demons was going to help them? What did they see as so wrong that they were willing to besiege their own king and countrymen? Mikado was supposed to be a kingdom of peace, where everyone had a place to belong and the safety to live out their lives as they should. They were ruining all of that on the claim that the Luxuror class was oppressing them, keeping them ignorant and enslaved. But they weren't enslaved. They were free to live as they should by the teachings of God.
Something felt odd then, like time had skipped a second. Jonathan glanced around and noticed bits of odd fuzz in the air around people. Something was going very wrong.
"We've got 'em now, huh? Trapped like rats." Issachar had his demonic grin now, enjoying this time.
"Yes, but they're sure to respond shortly," Flynn said. "We haven't won yet."
"Aw come on, we've done more than they expected. Of course, we could've been in there slaughtering them already too. Everybody else is getting antsy, knowing that this is our time." He looked up at the wall that stood between the Luxuror and Casualry districts. So close.
"We're still convincing the other Casualry to leave the city," he said. "We don't want them ending up as casualties too."
"Well if they haven't awakened yet, they're stubbornly remaining brainwashed with faith." It made him wonder something, something that he didn't like. "I do sometimes wonder why you haven't embraced the demonic yet."
"It hasn't embraced me like it did you," he replied.
"Are you sure you'd not afraid of it, and fighting it?" Issachar really wanted something to do, not this waiting when they had the Luxuror toads right within reach.
Flynn shook his head. "I don't like the system any more than you do. But there's nothing that clearly triggers the transformation. Some transform quickly upon realizing the truth, others are delayed until something else triggers them."
"Well if you need help, just ask," Issachar said, clenching his fingers. That heat came back into his mind, the kind of thing that had triggered his own transformation. Why did they do nothing?! Maybe he still felt the restraint that the Luxurors had yoked on the Casualries, maybe he needed someone to hurl that off him.
"Now wait," Flynn said.
"I'll help," Issachar said, then grabbed Flynn's neck. It was unfortunate that it had to be forced on him, but they needed to do something.
It didn't take long for Flynn's body to go limp. Issachar dropped him down to the ground; he'd get back up before long. What would his hidden talents be? Or his new form? He'd surely be even greater than he was now.
He wasn't moving. Not a bit of magic was trying to reanimate his body too. Nothing.
"Flynn?" Issachar dropped down and nudged him. "Hoy, Flynn, come on. You really deserve to break through, and be like me. You..." he nudged him again, getting no response. Issachar trembled. "You… Wh-what happened? Did I really…? No, no, this can't be right. Flynn, no!"
A burst of fire enveloped both of them, causing an explosion large enough to break down the division wall next to them. Issachar sobbed and embraced Flynn's fallen body, not that it would protect anything. In fact, he wanted the fires to consume him.
And so they did, along with a quarter of the capitol city of Mikado, until the timeline finally got to wink out to black.
"State your name."
No.
"Hoy… hoy Flynn, wake up."
Flynn had a lot of information now, but some vital parts were still uncertain. So he set out to discover what was unknown. Like, was there anything that could keep Issachar from transforming into a demon? There was a charm that he found that could ward off the transformation. But then, the problem was getting Issachar to always be wearing that charm after he had his mind opened up to the possibilities of the world. If he took it off even for half a minute after that, the transformation would trigger. He needed something deeper.
Or, what would convince Walter and Jonathan not to make their sacrifices? He spent several cycles focusing on one or the other, trying to get them to think harder on what they were asked to do. Jonathan would admit to fear when the option was presented to him, but he'd still decide to go through with it because he felt it was worth it. While Walter never admitted to fear in facing death, it was clear by how he acted when thinking over it that it was there. He would also decide it was worth it; he had a similar strain of hidden despair that Issachar did, but Flynn could never get close enough to him to get him to admit to that before the time came.
Clearly, what he needed was more time to accomplish what he needed to do. A lot more time, if what the cycles usually presented was not enough to convince Walter or Jonathan not to accept sacrifices. Issachar needed that too, for the forces at work might target him still. Flynn was pretty sure Isabeau would not choose a dramatic sacrifice if the rest of them remained human and remained together. And then he had to work out how to deal with the competing plots of angels and demons.
He needed a lot more time, and there was something right underneath his nose that could give him exactly that.
