Paumanhin, gome and sorry/swt. On the other hand Ilocos was a blast. Too bad, I didn't win. Ah yes, I still didn't get to watch the final episodes of Ragna! I wanted to see my favorites!
To rundaria: No, unfortunately, that wasn't Zephyrus. It would've been cool though. He's my favorite character in the whole anime!
Zyriel: Insane...
L.C :(Sharply) Yeah? Wouldn't you feel bad if you accidentally killed your family with your powers?
(Little does anyone realize that my comment hits a deep chord in the mage.)
Zyriel: He's still insane!
L.C: Oh, and I'm sure you're not! What an insensitive guy! I wouldn't be surprised if Mala didn't give you her time of day! (Starts of verbal insults.)
(Center stage, Gareth appears holding a piece of paper.) Uhm...hi, I'm Gareth Gona. Since L.C. is kinda busy right now (Yeah? Well, Charlie can cast better spells than you, and he's a Poring! ... You call that an insult!) I'm going to finish the intro. But before that, I'd like to shout out to Annika Lee. Your songfics rock! I wish my love life would have a happy ending. sniff Ahem!
"Thank you, Kalikasan, angelstarhikaru (I know you guys are really busy still I wish...) Skye Milahak, Misayo, rundaria and Annika Lee. And to the anonymous reviewer, Winter Ultima, who seriously scared me. And Gwaihir the Windlord, who didn't review in this story but whom I'm pretty sure is reading. And all the silent readers...drop a line, why don't ya?" Done. Wait there's a P.S. "Make Gareth read this last line." Heh, sure, why not.
(Gareth throws up his hands and shouts out) Everyone join me for Chapter Four! Isa akong unggoy! What? Why are you two laughing?
CROSSING THE DESERT SAND
Something warm scraped her cheek. She knew it was sand; she opened her eyes, finding herself lying in the desert. Her legs ached and her mouth was dry. While the sand was nice and warm, the sun was doing it's best to fry her. Her clothes offered little protection: a simple sleeveless white tank top paired shorts that reached to her knees: novice's clothes without the backpack. Unused to the heat, she gasped and struggled on her arms.
"Look what we got here." Something big had moved in and mercifully blocked out the sun.
Mala choked on the sand it set off and looked up.
A man riding a pecopeco. Since his back was toward the sun, his features were shaded. However Mala knew this person was a knight. Her eyes hurt from the glinting of his helm. Other pecopecos came trotting and she was surrounded from all sides.
"Struck gold have we?" A brusque voice asked the first one. He leered at the slender golden haired girl. The knight slipped and landed by Mala, setting off clouds of sand. Coughing, she was abruptly pulled by her arm.
"She's still breathing. Won't do if she was dead." The knight's eyes roamed over her body. A nice, well-defined figure, quite young. Add that to her pretty face and shining mane, and indeed they have "struck gold." While his companions assessed what would be better: to keep her or sell her as a slave, the girl's head lolled back. She shut her eyes, disliking either prospect that awaited her but knew there was no way a weak, dehydrated girl like her could fight off a gang of knights.
The dishonorable discussion had turned into dastardly dispute; the knights almost at arms deciding what they should do. The leader covering his ears, barked order at his men.
"Why can't you settle such a simple matter!"
"Boss, I heard the price of slaves have shot up. We'll get a whole lot of zeny especially if we sell her to the underground market."
The boss huffed. Truth is he felt sorry for the girl but they needed the money more than anything else. There was nothing else they could part with.
"Fine. Let's give her some water then we'll—" He broke off. The knights fell uneasily silent. The pecopecos fidgeted, as if they knew something ominous coming on. At first Mala heard nothing then a distant thumping, like wind being blown over the sand.
A sandstorm! Through the slit of her eyes she saw the sandstorm spring up nearby them. The gust tumbled towards them. Mala knew there was something different abut this sandstorm. She could make something moving within.
WHACK!
A foot sailed through the air, hitting the face of Mala's captor, releasing the girl. A thief with outrageously red spiky hair smirked over the fallen knight. His companions followed, striking the other knights. They assailed like their leader, leaping from their ruse and knocking the stunned knights off their rides. Mala felt herself being hoisted and tossed atop of a peco. With a loud "Hiyah!" they were off, leaving the pecoless knights in the desert.
Waking up, she was riding a pecopeco, her back against someone. His gloved hands were above her shoulders, holding the reins. Her first thoughts were that she was captured by knights but then she remembered. Tilting her head, it was a spiky-haired guy wearing goggles on his forehead.
"T-thank you." She stammered because of her dried throat.
"Don't thank me." His eyes totally focused ahead. "Don't expect that I'll take care of you or anything."
"You have chosen a harsh path, kid, running away from everything you once known." His expression never changed as he answered the unvoiced question. "Yes, I know. Your expression says it all. This world is hard and unjust; you have to make your own life, you gotta depend on yourself and only yourself."
Mala watched as they crossed over a large dune, a city loomed nearer as they trotted on.
"Morroc, city of the desert. The people reflect the times and this city: not all are generous, not all are willing to help." To Mala, the thief rather looked sad when he said that. "Unless, girl, you are strong enough to search."
They dropped off Mala near the city entrance. Mala stared up the city walls, unsure and more than a little unafraid. But just before the thieves left...
"Here, catch." He tossed something to Mala. And he turned to the others. "Okay, let's go."
Mala looked down. A flask? She opened it and guzzled the water. Finished, she noticed a label on the side. "Courtesy of the Thieves Guild." Clutching onto the flask, she gazed upon the city that was to be her home.
"Time to begin my new life."
And with a new life, a new name.
"Did she pass? Did she pass?" The thief peered over the moderator's shoulder. The moderator of the thief's test gave him a disgusted look but finally checked at the clipboard.
"Mushrooms...Uh-huh...according to the report brought by his owl...YES! Now be quiet. She'll be coming here for confirmation and uniform."
The spiky haired thief cheered while his companion, an alchemist with gravity-defying black hair, petted his owl.
"Better give her two uniforms," Vermilion ordered. The moderator shot him an annoyed look but didn't dare contradict. Vermilion was higher in rank. He slinked away to carry out the request.
"I don't understand you, Vermilion. You act as if you don't care about the girl but you'd go so far that you would rig an exam to ensure she passes." The alchemist calmly stated as he looked over Damaso, his owl. "Always watching her but never revealing yourself. Why?"
Vermilion smirked at fellow guild member and best friend, Alderin. He pulled at his collar, revealing a minute symbol. He placed two fingers on it. Vermilion might have many marks on his body, tributes from many battles, but he was fond of this one. It was not from any physical fight but a personal one. A tattoo of a small tear with angel wings on a cross surrounded by light. The insignia of the Cathedral of Angel's Tears.
"Know what, Alderin? You're right," Vermilion's smirk turned into a mysterious grin. "You'd never understand."
Gareth had trouble wiping the tears off his eyes. They ambled along the road and Malas was beside the hunter, listening to him. Malas wore an inexpressive countenance as Gareth fought his laughter as he tried to tell what he found so funny.
"Hahahaha...okay... I was snaring in the forests one day when this novice came up to me and moaned that he hadn't had a bite in three days. So I said 'Aww, is that so?' then I released the wolf I captured from its cage, and it BIT HIM!"
Gareth doubled up with laughter. Sala, however, rolled his eyes and scoffed at him. "Honestly, that's the corniest joke ever. Let's go, Malas." The alchemist took her hand and pulled her towards Frey who was leading the way.
The hunter stopped laughing and tilted his head. "Joke? Huh? But that wasn't a joke."
Zyriel was some distance away, watching how Malas interacted with his friends. She was kind of stand-offish, just politely listening to whatever Frey and Sala were saying. Right now, they were discussing over a merchant vending hats. Sala was trying to convince the knight to give up his helm.
"Sorry, Sala, my helm is customized. I wouldn't give it up for all the Bongun hats in the world." Lord Frey declared, smiling kindly. Said helm is magical but was left behind in the inn.
Sala pouted but got another hat. This time he put it on Malas. It was similar to the Bongun hat only it was red instead of blue. Sala quickly put the Bongun hat on Frey then pulled him to stand beside Malas. He stood back to admire the effect.
"You two look so cute! Munak and Bongun! Hey, let's ask Zyriel to buy—" Gareth slung his arm around Sala and muttered vehemently, "Ah, Sally, you seem forgetting something." He jerked his thumb over to Zyriel, who was watching the hat-wearing duo. Frey was laughing and put the hat away while Malas gave the faintest hint of a smile.
The mage hung his head, staring intently at his feet. However, he couldn't keep his eyes away from the thief, so he peered up. She was placing back the hat when the little boy came running up to her. She smiled and kneeled down. Eviaren, eager to show her something, clapped his hands together and opened it. A little flame danced then dwindled. She positively beamed at him and suffocated the poor boy. If only he was in Eviaren's position—then the heat shot up straight to his face.
"Yo!" A heavy hand slapped Zyriel out of his reverie.
"Frey..." he murmured. How did he get here so fast?
"A pretty picture, aren't they," Frey said. Malas was still suffocating Eviaren so Sala was trying to save him. Malas released Eviaren but only to use her hands to cover her mouth. Sala was puzzled about this until Eviaren (also holding back his laughter) pointed to his head. Sala felt around his head; there was something big and springy on his hair. He peered at the mirror situated in the stall and saw it: a big, pink bow like a misshapen Creamy. He sharply turned to Gareth, who was squatting on the ground, snickering.
"GAGO!"
"Yeah. Very pretty." Zyriel shook his head, chuckling as a very angry Sala chased a laughing hunter through the streets.
"Come on. Before Sala beats up Gareth." While Frey slipped on his mocking manteau, Zyriel felt sheepish; Frey held Sala who was still thrashing in his arms while Gago stuck out his tongue. A few words calmed Sala then he went over to Gago and wagged his finger at him. All the while, he had that cheerful expression on his face.
"Wow. Lord Frey is so good," Malas said breathlessly. She was holding the little novice's hand.
"Of course! Kuya Frey has a knack for keeping peace. He never gets angry or shouts," Eviaren informed her. "When we're traveling he would walk behind so I wouldn't get attacked or anything."
"Wow," she said again. Her admiration for the knight grew. Frey reminded her of a person who was very much like him.
Ngiti
Little Mala reached for the mug of hot milk on the counter. Standing on tiptoe, one hand clutching a book, the other reaching for the mug nearest to the edge. Her fingers curled around the handle. All right!
"What are you doing!" a voice boomed.
She yelped, dropping the book and the mug. The book fell open and the mug crashed onto it, spilling the milk. No! Now she doesn't have milk. Worse the book was ruined!
"Tsk. Look what you've done." An acolyte at the doorway, the other kid pushing each others trying to get a better view. Oh no! Brother Harsch!
"Ingrate. Do you know how much those mugs cost?" Mala trembled as Harsch glared down on her. The kids, around a dozen of them, began to yap at Mala, tattling how much trouble she's in.
"What's going on here?" Harsch started as Father Matthew appeared behind him. The kids crowded around him and began speaking at once.
"Father! Mala broke a mug!" squealed a green-haired kid. "Is she in trouble?"
Matthew made a thoughtful face then made his way to Mala. Harsch bowed his head as he passed. He had only respect for the priest. Mala started apologizing; the last thing she wanted was Matthew to be angry with her. But the Father did nothing of that kind. Instead he picked up the book and flipped the pages.
"This is not your favorite book, is it?" He inquired kindly. Mala shook her head. "Then it's fine. This is just an old copy of "Libro Mio". No harm done."
"But Father, she broke one of the mugs," Harsch maintained. The father cupped his chin, thinking. "Is that so?"
Fr. Matthew rummaged through the cupboard, producing a mug. It had a picture of Angeling and multicolored Porings singing against a snowy background. He filled it warm milk and gave it to her.
"Mala," Fr. Matthew began gently. "See what happens when you don't wait? Every action we do will have a consequence; good with good and bad with bad. Patience is a virtue but you going ahead of the others do not show that. Now, if you promise me that you'll always wait for others during dinner then I'll give you my favorite mug."
She nodded her head; her cheeks tinted a pretty shade of pink. "I promise." She took the mug with both hands. It was warm. The priest closed his eyes and grinned at her. Then he sprung up and called for everybody's milk. A stampede of kids scrambling for their milk. He laughed amidst the confusion then began mock crying for help. The kids had tackled him and he let them, enjoying the ruckus.
Having heard the shouts the other acolytes rushed to the kitchen, three females and another male, Angel. Utter confusion on their faces as they watched the kids laughing over their bishop.
Only Mala stood alone, cradling the mug and constantly examining it. She held it near heart. Needless to say, it became her favorite cup and one of her most prized possessions.
That memory was one of her sweetest, the memory of smiles.
"You've got a nice smile. That's for me I hope." Mala started from her recollection. Zyriel... You have a nice smile too, the thought flit through her mind without realizing it. Zyriel ruffled his trainee's hair.
"So my apprentice has been showing you some tricks, eh? He's a very fast learner; most don't even learn lighter spells this early during their novice years." There was the tiniest suggestion of pride in Zyriel's voice.
"It's because he's got a great teacher, right Evie?" Malas said. Eviaren nodded, grinning like a Poring. Zyriel looked away, embarrassed by her compliment.
Malas moved closer to him and began. "Zyriel...I just want to say—" His ears pricked up, eager to listen to what she's about to say when Gareth bounded in between them. Sala slinked right behind, still a bit mad.
"Hey! I've got an idea. Let's all check out the Pet merchant," Gareth eagerly shouted out, unaware that Zyriel's expression now was very much like Sala's.
"Not me. I'm going to check out the potions in the Clandestine Library," Sala told Gago moodily.
"You're actually going to check out the potions? But I thought that was just a cover—oomph!" Whatever Gago was going to say was snuffed by Sala's elbow. Zyriel only noticed the way Mala's eyes lit up.
"Library?" she asked.
"Yes. Would you like to come, I wouldn't mind." Sala pushed his pince-nez back. "At least some of us are sophisticated enough to enjoy the pursuit of knowledge!"
Gareth, yawning, leaned on his bow then snapped up in mock surprise. "Oh, excuse me...were you talking?" Sala narrowed his eyes dangerously but turned away from Gareth when he saw that expression on Malas's face. He didn't know why but he liked seeing her like that: like a kid who had been offered a lifetime supply of candy.
"Zyriel, can we go there?" Mala had turned to him, her hands together at chest level, and her eyes pleading with him. He smiled wryly at her. He had read more than enough books in the dark to suit him a lifetime. But it made him really happy, seeing her like that. Besides she looks so darn cute! How could he possibly refuse?
"Sure...I—"
"Uhm...Zy?" Somebody poked him. What! He was talking here! But Zyriel's irritation dissipated when he saw Frey's apologetic smile. "I ran into our suki and she said she wanted to discuss with us about a certain business transaction a month ago." Lord Frey gestured his thumb behind him, where a lady blacksmith was tapping her foot. A knight and an assassin were standing with her.
Zyriel sweatdropped. The transaction was the one he was carrying out when he first met Malas. But due to incidents that followed, he wasn't able to complete or follow up the deal. Even the nicest person could get cranky after a month without updates. The blacksmith was now glaring at him. Sighing, he had to do what he had to do.
"Seems like that I won't be able to join you."
"Oh." Malas said a little dismayed. Zyriel took her hands then gave her a friendly peck.
"Interesting..." Sala thought. At the exact moment when Zyriel kissed Malas, Frey had his back turned and Eviaren was being preoccupied with Gareth's wolf story making Sala the sole witness of the event.
"You just go ahead and have fun, okay?" Zyriel turned back to wave as he ran. Frey, who went ahead, gazed over his shoulder and wondered why Malas looked so shocked.
"Oi! Let's meet up at the ice cream merchant after one hour!" Gareth yelled, finally noticing that Frey and Zyriel had gone off. Zyriel replied with a faint "Yeah!"
"Shall we now proceed to the library?' Sala politely voiced out.
"Bah! Hey Eviaren, let's leave the girls to go to the library." Gareth pulled Eviaren along a split second before Sala fully processed what he just said. "See you later, ate!" Eviaren yelled.
". . .Hey! I am not a girl!" His pince-nez almost fell off from shaking his fist. Sala pushed them back and coughed. "Malas?" he called softly.
She had not moved: her eyes still wide and her cheeks rosy pink. She slowly raised her hand and placed it on her cheek.
"What's the matter?" he teased. "It's like you've never been kissed."
"Ki—iss?" she sputtered.
"What! You really haven't!" Sala said in surprise. Mala didn't answer, still speechless from the shock. Oh Zy, be careful...be very careful. There was more to this girl than what to be seen. Being kissed by Zyriel had completely thrown her off. Sala contemplated if this was a good or bad thing.
"He kissed me. Why?" She squeaked.
"Because he likes you." Sala said with a wry smile. "Really, really likes you," He silently added. Sala did some quick thinking and had calculated the next move. He decided it was a good thing but toned down the significance. "Come on, Mal, you're friends now. It's his way of showing affection."
What Sala said barely registered on her mind so the alchemist gave up and shrugged his shoulders. He sighed and grasped Malas's hands, pulling her along the path towards the Clandestine Library.
Clan destine
She followed him through narrow alleys and sharp turns. Her mind had return to functioning normally so she asked what exactly the Clandestine Library is.
"It's exactly its name, a vast secret library hidden underground." He explained, ducking under a broken fence. "It's been estimated to have been built around 700 years ago by order of a rich scholar. He stocked it full of books of his studies. When he died, his students continued add books and scrolls to the library and so on and so forth until to this very day. So you could just imagine what kind of ancient info is stored there."
"Are you sure I am allowed this library? It sounds like a place you couldn't get into." She had difficulty scaling a wall.
"It was exclusive then but it's for public use now. Okay, not exactly. It'd be a tough place to find...unless you're strong enough to search." Malas stopped climbing when she heard those words. A hand was reaching for her from above the wall. She grasped it tightly as he pulled her up. They stood up on the top of the wall, a soft breeze blowing through them.
"Besides," Sala continued. "I know I could trust you. The entrance is shown by those who have already gain access to those who they deem to worthy of the knowledge." Sala leaped down into the narrow alley. He scurried forward as Malas followed after him. The thief flushed again, flattered that Sala deemed her worthy.
She was walking down earthen steps. Sala followed after her, closing the wooden door. Far to her right, the room stretched as wide as the building they had entered. It smelled lemony and of old books; Malas relished the scent. The bookshelves evenly spaced vertically from where Malas was standing. Her heart leapt at the sight of bookshelves. She wanted to grab a book and start reading!
But the longer she stared at the shelves, the stranger her feeling got. Beyond the first row of bookshelves was another row like it, and another but each one got darker and past the third row was complete darkness.
"This is only the first level. Don't be scared of the darkness, it's perfectly normal to see it. It's when you don't that's bad." He said cryptically.
"Why?" she asked, her voice trembling.
"Do you really want to know?" Too curious to refuse, she nodded.
"Then you have to ask Zyriel because that's what he told me when he brought me here." Sala pursed his lips as he stepped forward. "But he says it's got to do with the ancient librarian."
Sala chose a bookshelf right in front of a glass window-like opening. Light streamed freely from the rectangular opening so there was enough light to read for that part. Sala sat on the step of a ladder propped on one of the shelves and cracked a book. Malas was below him, searching the opposite shelf. Once, she thought she saw something white move in the shadows. The next moment she was sitting on the side of the ladder closest to the light.
"Inane." He thought glumly after skimming the first seven chapters. The book was full of crack formulae such as "Mixing a red potion and a yellow potion shall result in a more potent orange potion." Bah! As if. Someone has a really bad sense of humor. He reached for another book and was about to crack it when he noticed Malas had been staring at same page for the last five minutes.
"What's wrong?" Aside from the fact that some potion writers should be hanged.
"All there's written here are about potions. Not stories."
"Stories, is that you're looking for? Well." Sala managed to look both amused and regretful. "I'm afraid you won't find that here. Like I said, this library was established by a scholar for academics studies." Malas returned the book to its shelf but did not give up.
"How about you, Sala? What are you looking for here?" she asked as she searched the shelves.
"Me? I'm looking for formulae that might help me turn base metal into gold." Sala flipped through the pages.
It would be better to search in the lower levels but...
"Do you have money problems too?"
"No, nothing like that." Sala waved his hands as he continued reading a passage. "I've been blessed that our party could raise more than just a small fortune. It's the principle of the thing actually. I mean alchemy was first initiated by trying to turn base metal into gold. I want to be the first to achieve that elusive goal."
Malas sat down, a new book in her lap but it was forgotten as she listened to Sala about the supposed beginnings of alchemy. A story of a genius but viewed by others as a madman. His students kept disappearing one by one but soon he had produced not only gold but monsters that ate the eyes of people.
"It's only a story though, created to scare children." Sala explained, not telling her that he was the first to believe. When they were younger, Frey and Zyriel had scared him with tales of sacrificing one's eyeballs to acquire the knowledge of alchemy. However, Malas was hooked.
"Do you know anymore tales like that? Stories?"
"Stories?" he repeated blankly. "But I don't know..." Her eyes pleaded with him...Please... A pause. A melancholy sigh. He gazed deep into the eyes, as if to find something. And found it.
"There is one that I know."
"There was once a merchant trying to make a living. He made his own wares and personally traveled to get the strangest materials. Everyday, he tried to sell them but no one would buy them. He never gave up though and tried everyday. This went for a long time and some people weren't very kind to him. They hated him just because he sold his own way. He never harmed anybody but they loathed him because he would never give up. He was a pest, a very annoying pest. Some beat him but most just ignore him. That hurt him most of all. Then one day he disappeared. Nobody noticed even that until a beautiful knight appeared. She didn't know about the merchant but she really liked the wares. So she waited for the vendor but he never came. It was ironic that his works were only appreciated when somebody else did."
There was a long silence.
"Whatever happened to the merchant?"
He smiled sadly. "That's what everybody would like to know. Since he loved his works, I don't think he would leave his shop freely. Somebody must have taken him away. It was presumed that he was..."
"I don't think that's what happened." Malas cut in. "I think he loved his work so much that he left them behind so somebody might love them too." Malas hugged her knees and looked up the window. "Maybe he just is waiting for the right moment or the right person." Malas turned to him. "That was a nice story, thank you for telling it to me."
A little smile escaped his lips. He was about to tell her another tale when he stopped. Malas momentarily wondered then looked to the window. A small brown face was watching them! It tapped the glass with its yellow beak, as if trying to get their attention.
"What's that!" she cried.
"An owl!" But in the daytime? This can't be good. He thought as he bolted for the door. Malas followed along the earthen steps. They never saw the page where the book fell open. A picture of seven angelic beings. On the next page, The Seven Angels: Fact or Fiction? A flash of white then a hand with calloused knuckles picked it up. It stopped and raised its white hood, watching through the window.
When they got outside, the owl flew up and circled an area on the wall. Their eyes followed it and landed upon beside a little white-clad girl, perched on the city wall. She had her hands on her hips and looked no more than 12 or 13. Her corn yellow hair was cut straight and short. Sala instantly groaned. Oh no, not...
"Lily!"
"You know this girl, Sala?" Malas stood poised, her daggers out.
"She's the bane of my existence," he answered deprecatingly.
"Salamangka Gona!" For a little girl, she's got a booming voice. "I must test your true strength. Defeat the monster I shall pit against you!" She lifted her right hand and a ball of pink energy floated above it. She pitched it toward Sala. Sala took his axe out; preparing to face whatever hideous monster should appear. The ball suddenly became...a Poring? Malas peered over Sala's shoulders, both staring dumbly at the pink creature.
He tapped the Poring with his axe. "Uhm...hiyah?" It exploded in confetti hearts.
"You did it!" the girl shouted. She held out her arms. "As your reward for your prowess, accept this kiss!"
Sala's eyes widened as he violently shook his head.
"But Sala..." Lily beseeched but stopped cold when she spotted Malas. "Eyyy? Who's she? Your latest squeeze?" she screeched.
"No, Lily! It's nothing like that!" Sala exclaimed but Lily wasn't listening. She bit back her lip, trembling. Her hand crackled with yellow energy.
"SALA! How could you do this to meeeeee!" A circle lighted up around her feet and she floated as if in a trance. Orange energy sparkled around her. Below the alchemist and the thief jumped back, a giant circle had appeared on the ground before them. From the dark recesses within, slowly emerged a giant, orange, furry head wearing a hat. Sala gripped his axe, splaying himself to protect the girl. Damn it, this was no Poring it was...
Vermilion
A thief sat on the rooftops of Morroc, enjoying the scenery. A wind blew through his vermilion hair and he breathed in deeply. Hmmm? Something doesn't smell right. He stood up and glanced over the area below him. To his right, a flash of orange light. Vermilion turned to the general direction of Lily and his jaw dropped in shock
"Lord God almighty!" His gaze dropped to the sign situated below on the wall. "There's a sale on red potions and I'm missing it!" He added as an afterthought, "Oh and an Eddga is attacking that part of town."
Vermilion was idly wondering what Eddga was doing in Morroc when small speck flew from the horizon and into his line of vision. It rapidly flapped its tawny wings as it landed on Vermilion's arm.
"Damaso! Shouldn't you be with your owner?"
Damaso was tired but he had to warn him. To a passerby, his frantic bleating might have been interpreted as random hoots but not to Vermilion.
"Apa! Baik." An alchemist is in trouble and with him is the girl. Darn. "Looks like they need help. Damaso, pergi Tulong!" He swung his arm, and the owl took off. Whew, he remembered the commands. What's the deal, anyway, training Damaso in some archaic language?
He watched the owl fly off. Vermilion checked for the monster hat. He could still see it. That part is narrow and generally unpopulated. Good and bad. He snapped his fingers. The Clandestine Library! He put on his goggles, preparing for action.
"Time to motor." But instead of rushing towards to help, he leapt to the other direction. If he recalled correctly, a sale was waiting for him.
Tsong, Ano Bang Sinasabi Mo
"Eddga!" Sala cried. A deafening roar from the tiger-like creature. It towered ominously over them; Sala gritted his teeth. Then from out of nowhere, a shrill. His eyes never left the Eddga but he knew who it was.
"Crisostomo!" The falcon replied with another shrill. Yes, this was the break he was waiting for! He flung his pince-nez. The falcon swooped down and caught the glasses with his talon.
"Alert! While I take on this freak!" Sala heaved his axe at the Eddga. It bounced off its stomach and after three seconds...it gave an enraged cry. (What a maroon: P) The Eddga extended its claws and lunged at him. Sala instinctively pushed the girl away as the Eddga struck barren ground. Close call.
"Wild falcon on the loose," observed the lady blacksmith. Zyriel and Frey turned sharply to sky. "What kind of errant hunter would let his falcon run amuck?" Nearly the other side of town, Gareth dropped the backpack he was haggling over. His followed the movements of the bird, listening to the wild cries of the large falcon. Eviaren picked the backpack and stared at the hawk too. It hovered; something glinting from its claws. It gave three short squawks, three long shrills, and three shorter squawks before diving.
Cris?
Sally…
Mala!
In trouble.
The alchemist waved the clouds of dust away. It cleared, only to reveal that the monster was making its way to him. It put up its paw, as if signaling some sort intent. Fire engulfed its sharp claws. Eddga drew its arm to strike; suddenly it bellowed. It swung itself, like a dog chasing its tail. The surprise that Sala felt at the boss's behavior was nothing when he saw what was causing it. Two daggers were embedded on Eddga's back, with Malas hanging from each of them! She dangled, waving her feet, trying to plant to her feet on its back.
"What the he—get down from there NOW!" Bad choice of words, as the Eddga sharply turned, the force sent Malas flying. She smacked into the wall and slid down, her eyes tightly closed from the pain.
"Oh dear," Lily watched the thief, barely conscious, below her. "Maybe I shouldn't have been too hard on them." She had lowered the attacking power of her modified monster but increased the defense so they won't find it too easy. Still...
Eddga overshadowed the thief now, a great scowl on his furry face. "Is this what I get? Paltry tricks of a thief girl?" he rumbled. "Fool, you were none my concern." He displaced his hat, unveiling a pipe. His large paw grappled it and brandishing it like a whip, extending into a pointed fencing sword. "But you've made your choice."
A loud explosion from Eddga's back, shattered glass littered his feet. Leaving the girl, Eddga turned to his real target. Sala had taken off his coat; strapped on him were a leather bag and belts with potions that seemed to boil.
"Hey! Who wants some!" He took another and hurled it at Eddga. It blasted upon contact but it had no effect upon the monster. A circle lit up and wind brushed its fur. Now with greater agility and, he dashed to Sala.
"Okay, I've distracted him, now what!" Sala took several of the potions between his fingers and hurled it all at Eddga. A bigger explosion but it only the monster stopped for a sec. That second was good enough. A brown blur had swept Eddga's head, angering the tiger beast. A shrill cry that Sala had hoped for. The falcon dropped the glasses and turned his sharp eyes to Sala.
"Nice work, Crisostomo!" He placed two fingers in his mouth, a high pitched two-note whistle. With a wave of his hand, he cried: Now, Blitz Beat!"
Crisostomo gained higher velocity and swooped down, glowing with golden power. He struck the Eddga's head, knocking it a few steps back.
"Good! Again! Blitz Beat!" Sala whistled again, forcing the falcon to return. However, Eddga fired his claws and swiped falcon's airspace. "Up!" Sala commanded, allowing the falcon precious seconds to evade Eddga's fire.
"Is that all, alchemist! More distraction tricks?" Eddga dashed again. Sala tried to dodge both the pipe-sword and Eddga's fiery claws. "I see my summoning has been in vain. Show me your true strength!" Eddga kicked Sala and had him thrown to the ground. The monster threw his paw, aiming for Sala's torso.
HISSS!
Eddga jumped back, his fiery paw stinging. He narrowed his eyes at the newcomer: a woman, a white hood covering everything but her smile. She slowly drew back her fist: slightly smoking and covered with three angry welts. She placed her other hand on it and chanted the prayer for healing. The wounds disappeared, returning the fist to its original yet calloused state.
"Good to see you again, Sir Alchemist. It's been a while." She spoke as if commenting on today's nice weather. She lifted off her hood, her rusty colored hair braided and revealing eyes of the same color. Sala gasped, more from relief than shock.
"Same to you Miss Monk." The monk helped him get up. Through their many chance encounters in the library they came to know each other's faces but never got to know their names. Still a bond was formed and they called each other by their jobs. "Malas!" Sala cried out. She was still slumped against wall. But the monk held him back.
"Take care of tiger here while I go after your friend." The monk whispered, shielding the alchemist. Sala patted himself, alarmed. "Miss Monk, I don't have any mines left."
"Well that's peachy." She muttered. She didn't want to snap but the girl could be in critical danger. Sala whistled but the falcon did not appear. He spurted three more times when something whizzed above their heads. Eddga's hat fell on the ground, an arrow pierced in to it. The monstrous tiger did not seem care; in fact, it did not move.
Apa-(Mal) What?
Baik-(Mal) fine
Pergi-(Mal) Go.
Tulong-(Tag) Help. Incidentally the Malaysian of this is "tolong."