Chapter 2 – Darkness in Dipan

Part IV: The Shadow Beneath the Royal Crown

As Dipan lay at the northernmost peninsula of the North Lands, it was hemmed in at three corners by the ocean, and the fourth by the impassable expanse otherwise known as the Lost Forest. This proved to be a major inconvenience to traders, who – courtesy of having their seafaring transport mysteriously sunk by pirates – were suddenly deprived of their only means of returning the mainland continent. Consequently, they were forced to remain in Dipan, and despite being not entirely many of number, they were numerous enough to occupy all the inns in the city.

This was the dilemma Rufus, who had been tasked with the business of finding the group a room, found himself in. And he absolutely despised it.

For one, he roamed the populace again, which more or less guaranteed his role as the latest spotlight for attention. There were those who believed themselves to be gawking surreptitiously from afar (and would be were it not for his enhanced hearing):

"Mamma, is his hair really green? Like my vegetables?"

"Hush, Melissa, and do put that hand down. It's rude to point."

Then there were those who were incapable of minding their own business:

"Forgive me for asking, young mister, but did you have an accident at the nearby dyeing factory?

Finally, lest anyone forget the original reason for this hellish, vein-popping episode:

"I'm sorry, but we're all occupied here. Why don't you try the next inn downtown?"

"I'm afraid there are no vacancies, sir. You have our sincerest apologies."

"Can't you tell we're filled up like a barnhouse at harvest? Shoo! Be off with you!"

"Hmm, aren't ya an exotic-looking 'un? Sure, I'll let ya stay – if ya wouldn't mind offering a little romp in exchange, heheh. (That came from a man with stained, lopsided teeth, mind you.)

After inquiring at a minimum of six inns to no avail, a dangerously ticked-off Rufus decided that he had had enough. Finding the princess at their prearranged waiting spot, he seized her unceremoniously by the wrist and hauled her to the closest establishment, where they had sent him away with a nearly ad verbatim excuse as the last.

"You. Do. It."

In the end, that turned out to be the best decision he had made all evening. Upon clapping eyes on Alicia, the innkeeper's lips parted into a round 'o' of surprise. Apparently, anyone who bore a passing resemblance to the (supposedly) late princess of Dipan was sure to gain the interest – and more significantly, favour – of the locals.

"Oh my goodness… Would you look at her, Tom? That hair, those wide, blue eyes – isn't it just uncanny? And so pretty, too! Just like how she would have grown up to be!"

"Good evening, ma'am. I umm… would like to hire a room for three, please."

"Might I ask your name, dearie?"

"I'm Alicia."

"Remarkable, you even share her name! Yes, it's popular all around, but I daresay it suits you better than most! You're aware that you look uncannily like our late princess, don't you?"

"Umm… yes?"

"Such a tragedy, for illness to have befallen her at so tender an age. She was a delightful child. The king and queen have not been the same without her. Her passing was a grievous blow to our country, and couldn't have been any less so to the royal family.

"Anyway, back to business! Truth be told, we're packed to the rafters with stranded traders since that horrible pirate incident, but I'm sure we can find a room just for you, dearie!"

And that was how they came to be in the attic.

The tiny room was absent of furnishings save a single window and bed, which, by custom of chivalrous conduct, was automatically granted to the princess. This didn't bother Rufus, for the surrounding haystacks made as comfortable a bed as any – if one didn't mind sleeping completely dressed to protect against the prickling of individual pieces of hay, of course. Dylan, on the other hand, seemed content to stretch out on the wooden floorboards. He fell asleep in moments, his rhythmic snores echoing in the small space they shared.

Rufus did not surrender to slumber's embrace so readily, however. Long after the princess had stopped shifting under her blankets, he remained gazing unseeingly into the rafters, afraid of what would befall him in the vulnerability of repose.

Would he never wake? Would the curse that so damned him activate upon Odin's sudden whim to acquire a new body, banishing his soul to the realm of eternal oblivion? Would his entire existence be futile, culminating in the same fashion as that of a lamb raised for slaughter – his conception serving no purpose other than to yield his flesh by means of becoming a vessel?

Would the half-elf known as Rufus mean nothing to anyone, never to be remembered, never to be cherished?

These thoughts paced back and forth within his mind, preventing rest more effectively than willpower ever could. It was not until several hours had passed before exhaustion finally pressed down on his eyelids, closing them.

He awoke to the dawn with a mouthful of hay, having turned onto his stomach sometime in the night. A quick glance through bleary eyes revealed the princess to be sitting by the window, a delicate hand held over her mouth as though she were stifling a giggle. She was already fully dressed save for her hairband, which had been forgone in lieu of running a comb through her silky locks.

Her greeting was warm and not at all unwelcome. "Good morning, Rufus."

"Hey there, princess," he replied, rolling onto his back and stretching. The action caused hay to fall from above into his mouth, which he spat out irritably. "Where's Dylan?"

"He's gone out to run some errands. He ought to be back soon."

"Right." He sat up and felt around the back of his head with his hands. Just as he suspected, his hair was now a veritable pincushion, having had innumerable clumps of hay lodged into it. The fact that his clothes sustained only the minimum of hay invasion came as a small relief. "And how're you feeling?"

"Much better. My ribs are still a little sore, but I think we should be able to go see the king today."

"If you say so, princess."

Damnable hay! While loosing his hair and shaking it out made some leeway into dislodging the fluffy yellow nuisances, it wouldn't remove those stuck at the top of his head. Even so, there was no way he would untie his bandanna to ease the process, lest his pointed ears be revealed. The details of his half-elfin heritage were a well-guarded secret, and he fully intended on keeping it that way.

"Would you… call me 'Alicia'?"

The request surprised him, drawing his attention from his hay-ridden hair long enough to look at her. Her small, delicate hands were clasped together at her bosom in a gesture of shy sincerity. It seemed to be something she did very often, if unconsciously.

As for the request itself, he certainly had no problems with informality. In his experience, it tended to be more honest than the flamboyant posturing adopted by the upper class, anyway.

"Sure. Why, though?"

She gave a nervous fidget. "It's… friendlier, I suppose. Well, think about it this way – it's like me calling you 'Mister Rufus'. Unless," she added hastily, "you would prefer me to?"

He let out a snort of disbelief, and shook his head emphatically. "Hel, no. Just 'Rufus' is fine. 'Mister Rufus' sounds so…" he rummaged around for the right word, "stuffy."

At that, her tentative laughter filled the room, as softly radiant as the rising sun outside. It ended prematurely, however, the cause making itself evident in her clutching of her ribs and clenched teeth. Worried, he started towards her, but she raised a hand to forestall him before taking a few deep breaths to regain her composure.

Their encounter with the guardian beast from which she sustained her injury must have been foremost in her thoughts, for she said, "You know, I wish we could avoid these meaningless battles. Silmeria insists that I should get used to combat, but I hate it. I don't want to be hurt, and I don't want to hurt anyone. Wouldn't it be simpler if we could just discuss things instead of fighting?"

However refreshing her naivety may be in a world where blood was drawn at the pettiest of provocations, the realist in him could not indulge it. "Yeah, but not everyone wants to just 'discuss things'."

"When we fought the guardian beast, I eventually had to let Silmeria take control. You saw what happened, didn't you? When I tried to attack it from behind?"

He recalled with unrelenting clarity how she was thrown into the wall by a swipe of the beast's tail, and winced sympathetically.

"Yeah, that looked like it really hurt."

"Despite the pain," continued Alicia, hiding her face behind her curtain of sand-blonde hair as though she were ashamed, "Silmeria was able to get up and help you win the battle. But I… I couldn't do anything. I was useless."

"Silmeria's a battle maiden. Fighting-wise, you can't possibly compare with her."

"Even so, I'm only a burden to everyone." Before Rufus could open his mouth to argue, she plunged on ahead, her eyes shining with a strange sort of desperation. "Please don't try to deny it. I am, aren't I? All I can ever do is get in yours or Dylan's way."

By all that was holy on Asgard, the princess had certainly picked the last person capable of comforting teenaged females with self-worth problems. He fidgeted uncomfortably for a moment, but was saved from having to formulate a reply by a knock on the door, which swung open to permit the massive bulk of Dylan inside.

"I have returned, Your Majesty," the warrior said unnecessarily, inclining his head in Alicia's direction. "I see you're awake, Rufus," he added as his gaze fell upon the half-elfin archer.

"Morning to you too, Dylan," Rufus greeted back. It was then that he became aware of a large drawstring bag clutched in the warrior's gigantic fist. "What's in that?"

"This?" Dylan held up the bag, noticing Rufus' eyes on it. "I have been gathering provisions lest we need travel once more, but it is my hope that our journey ends here."

"It is mine, also," piped up Alicia earnestly. She stood up, putting away her comb and setting her hairband into its proper position. "Well then, shall we go?"

A flurry of skirts marked her exit through the door. Dylan made to follow her, but paused as he caught sight of something. Something on Rufus' face (or hair), if his bemused expression was anything to go by.

Rufus felt his brows bunch together in an unflattering frown. "What?"

Dylan hesitated for a moment, then, seemingly unable to contain himself, blurted aloud the question that Rufus had not, in a million eons, wanted to hear.

"You are aware that there is hay in your hair?"

After some tidying up to make themselves – or Rufus, to be more specific – suitably presentable (Alicia had offered to remove the hay from his hair, to his great mortification), the group arrived at the castle postern. A lone guard stood by the iron gates, his well-burnished platemail gleaming in the shrubbery-muted sunlight. When it became apparent that they were approaching him, he raised the visor of his helm, presumably to see them better.

Here was a job he would never agree to, thought Rufus absently. However well it paid, there were few things duller than standing sentinel in a suit of heavy, clunky armour.

Alicia stepped forward. "Good morning, sir knight," she greeted, as polite as always.

The guard inclined his head in reply. "Good morning to you too, miss. Have you come to file a request?" He certainly wasted no time in getting to the point.

"Yes. We would like to be granted an audience with the king, if you please."

He cocked a questioning eyebrow at them. "And who might you be?"

"I umm…"

Dylan, noticing Alicia's hesitation, quickly interceded on her behalf. "Travellers. And a fellow citizen of Dipan." He indicated himself proudly with a thump of his fist against his chest. "We bring tidings from foreign lands."

There was a moment in which the guard narrowed his eyes suspiciously at them, but his voice was cordial when he continued, "I'm sorry, but the king has not granted audiences to the public for some years, now. Not since the death of our beloved princess Alicia. I'm afraid you must turn back."

"That is… unfortunate," replied Alicia – no, Silmeria; her voice was the husky one of the valkyrie's. It was disconcerting how she could so suddenly exchange control with Alicia like that. "We thank you for your time."

She dropped a formal curtsey before turning around to leave, Rufus and Dylan at her heels.

"Well, this certainly complicates matters," quipped Rufus once they were out of hearing range, which was to say, some thirty yards away.

Silmeria's lips were pursed in displeasure. "It appears we have no choice but to sneak in and confront the king ourselves. Unfortunately, I do not know of an alternate way to gain entry –"

"Worry not, my lady," Dylan interjected reassuringly. "We knights are granted knowledge of a secret passageway into the castle, to be used in times of emergency. It is probably still intact today."

Convenient of Dylan to mention useful information of that sort now. "Why couldn't we have used that from the beginning?"

"Because that would make us intruders," snapped Silmeria, throwing Rufus a look that plainly spoke what she thought of his intelligence for missing something so obvious. "We would be wandering the castle without authorized permit. Getting caught would at best result in imprisonment, at worst, a public execution."

Rufus winced. "That's certainly harsh."

"Uncompromising penalties have to be established where the royal family's safety is concerned," persisted Silmeria, undeterred. "I propose we wait till nightfall. The halls will be less occupied then, with fewer eyes to detect our trespass."

A nod from Dylan indicated his acquiescence to her plans. For one as patriotic as he to contribute to a task that may as well be considered treason, the situation must be dire, indeed.

As for Rufus himself, whatever reservations he held for risking his neck unnecessarily had no option but to be tossed to the wind. He was well and truly mired in their affairs, now – his fate depended wholly on their success. Perhaps, Silmeria, in her divine wisdom, had known this all the way back when she first laid eyes on him in the tavern at Solde, and beckoned he come as unresistingly as he did.

All that was left to do was to wait until the cover of dark. Perhaps some sightseeing around the lovely city wouldn't go amiss – it was a good way as any to spend one's potential last hours.

"You know," began Rufus as the group strolled down one of Dipan's beautifully paved streets, "it has struck me as odd that you've been reported dead when you are living and breathing right in front of me. I don't see a reason why Dipan has to be bereaved of its princess, but I obviously don't have the whole picture."

Alicia sighed heavily. "It's a long story."

He pointed to the sun, which was in its overhead position at noon. "We aren't in any particular hurry, are we?"

"Alright, then." She paused in her step, causing her two male companions to huddle around her. "As you already know, both Silmeria and I are incarnated into the same body. She first awoke when I was very young, and started speaking to me from then on. She would tell me many things about the world of Asgard and Midgard, and I would speak back to her. Although I could hear her clearly in my mind, I found it easier to pretend that she was there beside me, as though I were talking to her in the flesh. It made her feel more… real.

"Of course, since nobody could see or hear who I shared my frequent conversations with, and only saw me talking to the air, they thought me insane or possibly demon-possessed." Rufus grimaced at that; he was guilty of doing the same. "It was a disgrace to have a child of such unsound mind in the royal family, so they proclaimed me dead, passed from some unknown illness, and sent me away to a faraway estate."

Her voice trembled ever so slightly towards the end, and he could clearly recognize pain in her eyes. Sympathy – or empathy, rather – came to him readily. Growing up amongst elves who reviled man no less than any abomination that spawned from mingling with their kind, he knew only too well what it felt like to be alienated and despised.

"If your family hated you so much that they would proclaim you dead and send you away," he said roughly, "why return to them?"

"Because," here, Alicia's tone took on a steadfastness that Rufus did not understand, would never understand until he learned its reason for himself, "they're my family. Nothing will ever change that." Her mouth tightened. "And I have urgent news to bring to my father. News that threatens the kingdom of Dipan."

"I've been meaning to ask about that, too. All I know from the rumours is that Dipan is intending to rebel against the gods. Even if those rumours are true, I have a feeling that something else is afoot, here."

Dylan replied in Alicia's stead. "The law of the gods states that not more than one valkyrie is meant to exist upon Midgard at any given time. As Hrist is the valkyrie representative of this era, Silmeria's presence here violates that law. The gods, they have no respect for mortals. Rebellious intentions or no, they will smite the nation of Dipan simply to lure princess Alicia – Silmeria's host – into the open. Should her mortal vessel be disposed of, Silmeria would then have no choice but to return to Asgard."

"Hrist has been charged with these tasks," added Silmeria, who had taken hold of Alicia's body all of a sudden. "She is pursuing us even as we speak."

If Rufus thought that his opinion of the gods couldn't possibly worsen any further, he was sorely mistaken. Were they so devoid of mercy that they would destroy an entire nation, uncaring of the thousands forced into destitution and homelessness, just to retrieve their vagrant valkyrie's soul? Well, it shouldn't be any more than he expected, really. His own fate was telling enough of how little they concerned themselves with the lives of mortals.

And what about Alicia – timid, meek little Alicia whom he had barely gotten to know? They would be brushing her off as though she were nothing more than an inconsequential fly.

"Hrist has been sent to kill Alicia." It was not a question.

Silmeria nodded grimly. "Indeed. The cancellation of the liner services – or the mysterious 'pirate' incident, as popularized by the public – was her doing. So intent in stopping us from reaching Dipan was she, that she would willingly kill innocent bystanders to do so." Her voice hardened to a diamond's edge. "She would no more spare Alicia."

Rufus barely felt the bite of his fingernails as his hands clenched into fists. It was bad enough when he believed himself to be lone victim of the gods' callous whims; he could not, in all good conscience, allow another to suffer their injustice. Not while he still had a hand in the matter.

"Well, me and Dylan aren't gonna let that happen!" he declared fiercely.

Prompted by Silmeria, the corners of Alicia's lips lifted in a smile. It was different to Alicia's own smile, empty of the sweet innocence that characterised the princess, but the sentiment behind it was no less genuine.

"I'm glad to know that you take your duty as our escort seriously, Sir Rufus."

Night arrived without further drama, blanketing the city of Dipan in velvet indigo. As the magic streetlamps flicked on one by one, a princess, her knight and a half-elf made their clandestine way to the city sewers, where a passageway into the castle known only to those of royal attendance awaited them. The excursion was – to everyone's surprise but the knight's – not overly unpleasant, for the flooded pathways were purified by magic, making waterlogged boots the main issue. (That was, unless one were squeamish enough to be spooked by the sight of scuttling rats, which the princess thankfully was not.)

Not an hour's quarter had passed before the group found themselves within the magnificent hallways of Dipan castle. Polished marble tiles comprised the floor, laid over at frequent intervals with luxurious red carpet. The supporting pillars, which themselves held elaborate carvings of war and glory, fanned out into the gilt, arched ceiling. At this time of the night, the candles on the silvered stands were lit, illuminating the air around them in spheres of flickering, orange light.

It was every bit as grandiose as any royal castle ought to be, thought Rufus, who could not help but admire the gaudy evidence of the nation's wealth and prosperity. Even so, there was something cold and forbidding about the place, as though life was but a spectre that chose only occasionally to haunt its corridors.

"According to what we've heard," he said, revisiting the exploits of their venture around town, "the king hasn't disclosed any of his plans – whatever they may be – to the public. However, there have been a suspiciously large number of steel imports from Villnore – at least, until Hrist decided to hijack the ships."

"Villnore steel is reputed to be the finest in all of Midgard," supplied Dylan, "and would not be squandered on anything than the best of armaments. It appears that war is high on the king's list of priorities. Whether it is against man or against the gods, that remains to be seen."

Rufus placed his hands on his hips. "I suppose our speculations will only be confirmed by the king himself. It's too bad he won't grant us an audience. And it's not like we could just rifle through the whole castle to find him, either. So, Silmeria," he turned in Alicia's direction, believing the valkyrie to be currently in residence, "what do you suggest?"

She shook her head, and it was the higher-pitched voice of the princess that responded. "She's not answering me."

"Great," huffed Rufus, annoyed with the valkyrie's tendency to appear and disappear as she wished. "Just when we need her."

"Perhaps she's sensed Hrist," offered Dylan reasonably, "and concealed herself. Being part of a trinity, valkyries are able to detect each other's presence."

"She's hiding so that Hrist'll have a harder time finding us, yeah, I get it." Rufus let out a great sigh of frustration. "You know, Alicia, this'll be so much easier if you had just one loyal servant in the castle –"

"But there is one," interrupted Alicia, her eyes growing wide in realization. "Dallas."

"Who's that?"

She clapped her hands together excitedly. "If Dallas were here! He's a childhood friend. I heard he became one of the Three Mages."

"Who're the Three Mages?"

"They conduct research to aid Dipan's advances in magical technology, and are also close advisors of the king."

"Do you think they'll know what the king's plans are?"

"We can go ask Dallas, I'm sure he wouldn't mind telling us." Her shining eyes spoke all too plainly of her trust in her friend, but somehow Rufus wasn't so sure. "As to where he might be, I've heard that the Three Mages' laboratory is underground. I've never actually been down there, however."

Dylan moved forward to assume the lead, his heavy step making only a muted thud on the carpeted floor. "I remember underground chambers. Only, back then, they were used as dungeons. Let's go."

The castle proved to be emptier than expected, bearing not the slightest evidence of even a servant assigned cleaning duty. While this relaxed the laborious task of proceeding with stealth somewhat, this lack of personnel perturbed Rufus. No place so iconic, so central to the heart of the nation ought be this empty. There was something going on around here, and that something was not pretty.

Indeed, no sooner had they reached the stairway leading to the bowels of the castle that a spine-chilling growl could be heard. Rufus' hand instinctively flew to his bow; Dylan had also unloaded his monster of a blade from its back harness, and was holding it menacingly before him. The only one unarmed was the princess, who was apparently too stunned by the sight in front of her to draw her sword.

With the crackle of bone grating against bone, a legion of skeletal soldiers (one, two, three; Rufus stopped counting after twelve) ascended from the depths. They appeared no different to the ones encountered in the Lost Forest, except that they wielded swords – or more likely, sharpened pieces of bone – instead of spears. However swiftly he and Alicia were capable of dispatching individual skeletons back then, it did not ensure their victory here, for the fact remained that they were largely outnumbered.

"I hate to break it to you," he declared to Alicia, stringing an arrow to his bow at the same time, "but I'll say that Dipan is really keeping pet monsters!"

Alicia shook her head frantically in denial. "No! This can't be -! Oh, Father…"

Rufus was too busy selecting a target to care about her poorly-timed emotional breakdown. The first arrow whizzed through the air, striking a skeleton between the eyes, and the battle began in earnest.

They emerged from the aforementioned battle the worse for wear, but blissfully alive. The prospects were particularly grim for Rufus, whose shooting was severely handicapped by the narrow channels and steep angled turns of the catacombs; undoubtedly his newly-purchased dagger (which he had the foresight to obtain while in town) saw more use than his bow throughout the fight. In the end, it was Dylan's immense strength that saved them; he had single-handedly sheared through a horde of at least eight skeletons to reach Rufus' and Alicia's corner, where they lay fending for their lives after being unexpectedly trapped.

Having miraculously avoided injury, Alicia now applied herself to tending Dylan, smearing the effervescent green liquid of their curative potions over his many wounds before bandaging them.

"Thank you, Dylan," she murmured while dabbing at a nasty gash across the warrior's cheek. "I don't know how we could have survived that without your help."

"You're welcome, princess." Dylan gave a wry smile that turned out to be more of a grimace, prompting Alicia to work with more urgency. "Were it not for truthfulness' sake, I would even go as far to say that is my pleasure."

Had he not refused her to salvage what remained of his pride, Alicia would have tended to Rufus also. His wounds were nowhere near the severity of Dylan's, being but superficial cuts – nothing a single vial of potion wouldn't fix. It was enough that Alicia got her entertainment's worth by watching his face scrunch up at the unpleasant taste. However much he may long for it within the empty confines of his heart, he wasn't ready to be touched in any manner yet, and certainly not with the overwhelming gentleness of her hands.

To the relief of all present, proceedings went a little smoother after that. Although the monsters were as plentiful as ever, they came mostly in pairs or trios rather than an entire mob at once, allowing the group to pick them off as required. Navigating the maze of tunnels proved to be the primary concern, however, as many of the passages ended in cul-de-sacs. (At least they were mercifully well-lit, unlike the horrid underground path.) One in particular stood out to Rufus – it was a circular room with a sunken central platform surrounded by six stands, each supporting a glowing blue crystal. The air there positively brimmed with magic; it was probably a powerful device of some sort.

Eventually, the group arrived at what ostensibly looked like a storage laboratory, the manner of storage being in the form of cylindrical glass tanks and open, oblong boxes large enough to fit a person. The combined sounds of running machinery and seeping gas filled the air, loud enough to override the constant plip-plop of water that dripped from the ceiling. There was also a sharp, organic scent lingering about the place; it reminded Rufus unpleasantly of blood.

No doubt mesmerized by the object suspended in glowing blue-green liquid within one of the tanks, Alicia approached it, splaying her fingers against the glass with childlike fascination. She stumbled backwards abruptly when it became apparent that the floating object was not any ordinary object, but in fact, a disembodied animal part.

Rufus, who was sturdier of composure but no less apprehensive of their increasingly eerie surroundings, glanced at the oblong boxes arranged in parallel series along the walls. It came to mind that they highly resembled…

"Coffins?" he pondered aloud. "No, I don't think so."

Wary of what he would encounter, he strode up to inspect the contents of one, and leapt backwards in shock when he recognized the bony remains within to be that of a human skeleton.

"The monsters we just fought… Looks like they were growing them in here – from human corpses." He couldn't help the shakiness of his voice.

All this – the castle's sinisterly empty hallways, the frantic battle for their lives, the horrifying realization that her beloved nation had betrayed her by growing these monstrosities in secret – turned out to be too much for the princess to handle. With a low moan of despair, she hunched over and pressed her hands to her eyes, rocking to and fro all the while. The sight of her so utterly devastated wrenched at Rufus' heart, and he started towards her helplessly, compelled to comfort her but not knowing how.

Before he could so much as take a few steps in her direction, however, a tremor powerful enough to knock him off his feet shook the ground, alerting him and the others to the unwelcome presence of another. Clambering to an upright position, Rufus turned around to see a gigantic, leafless plant, if one could call it that. Its body sufficiently resembled a trunk, he supposed, being long and cylindrical. Root-like stubs protruded from its legless base, and a deformed head sat atop its shoulders, which boasted two pairs of fiendishly long, thorny arms. To complete its already unsightly appearance, it was coloured in a nauseating shade of brownish-grey, making it without question the ugliest creature he had ever laid eyes upon.

While said ugliness would have given another ample reason to look elsewhere, Dylan gazed up at it instead, an entranced expression on his face. Rufus, noticing this, blurted, "What, is he a friend of yours?"

Although his tone was incredulous, he inwardly hoped that his words were true. If communication with this hideously malformed creature was possible, then perhaps they could negotiate a truce. He didn't want to have to fight again, not after he had come so perilously close to losing his life in their previous battle with the skeletons.

Dylan nodded in affirmation. "Apparently. This voice… Am I the only one who can hear it? The king, Barbarossa, has driven him to despair."

"We don't work for the king!" exclaimed Rufus impatiently. "Tell him that!"

His hopes were summarily dashed when the creature swung its arms around wildly, rendering sizable cracks into the glass of numerous tanks and causing blue-green liquid to gush out onto the floor.

"Great. Nobody listens."

With an exaggerated sigh, Rufus reached around for his bow and readied an arrow, his target a melon-sized, unblinking black eye.

A/N: Long, filler chapter. A lot of dialogue, little action. I'll reserve the battle scenes for later.

The first section isn't part of the in-game dialogue, but something I dredged up myself for the sake of my own amusement and to rectify Rufus' lack of knowledge about certain events – which is not addressed in the game due to the player already having the big picture courtesy of the omniscient perspective. I do believe I shall be incorporating a fair number of such scenes in the chapters ahead.

Yes, I am aware that I have made a geographical mistake by stating that Dipan lies on the northernmost peninsula instead of an island. I feel that this mistake is better left as is – the idea of constructing a tunnel under the ocean using nothing more than medieval technology (even with the bonus of magics) is quite absurd.