Chapter Seven: Gathering Allies

Rowan was suffering from a terrible injury. Sure, his muscles ached and he was covered in bruises and cuts of varying seriousness, but the worst injury was much deeper than that.

His pride had been severely wounded, and he didn't know if he would ever be able to face Kratos again. Kratos had told him that going into that battle was a bad idea, but Rowan had brushed him off and bragged that he'd be just fine. He really had thought that he'd be ok, too But then when he actually got to the battle, everything started happening at once and he hadn't even known who he was swinging his rings at half the time. It was as if everything about the battle had conspired together just to rub it into his face that when it came right down to it, he was a fisherman, not a warrior, and he had a long way to go if he had any hope of changing that.

And now he was here, in this rotten cell with all the other captured troops. He had been confused at first when they put one of those shiny blue rocks like Kratos had on his hand, because weren't they supposed to make people angels? But then Kratos' and Spirit's both had a fancy crest or whatever around it while his was on his bare flesh, so maybe that had something to do with it.

He heard movement from the other side of the cell, and looked over to see a young man regaining consciousness. Rowan had no idea who he was, but the rest of the soldiers started crowding around him as soon as they noticed he was coming to. The man sat up and put a hand on his blond head, then looked around at the gathered soldiers.

He frowned, then pointed at someone to his right. "You. Jackson. Give me a report."

Jackson sat up straight on his knees and saluted. "We're in the Cleopolica ranch, sir." He rambled off a quick recap of what had happened, covering their capture, being brought to the ranch and being fitted with the blue gems and finally getting thrown in a cell.

"I see," the blond man said, nodding slowly. "Where is Captain Asgard?"

No one volunteered an answer as the soldiers gave each other nervous looks. Some looked to the ground with a solemn expression.

"I understand," the man in charge said. "If he's not here, he's probably dead. From now until we get back to Cleopolica, I am your commanding officer."

Rowan raised an eyebrow at the kind of blind optimism that made him think they were going to get home one day. In Rowan's memory, no person had ever returned from the ranch. It also didn't help that the Cardinal, Dagen, had issued the warning years ago that if anyone did manage to escape, their entire hometown would be destroyed.

"You." The blond man had walked over and stood over Rowan. "You're not one of us. Who are you and what are you doing here?"

Rowan stood up, not about to be talked to while the other man was looming over him. "Rowan Praetor. I was in the area and saw the battle and wanted to help."

"That was pretty foolhardy."

Rowan scowled. "Yeah. I know. Forgive me for trying to help you guys."

The man grinned. "Heh, you're right." He stuck out his hand. "Lieutenant Ferris. I'd say nice to meet you, but I think it's safe to say that both of us would rather not be here."

"So what's your plan for getting out of here?"

"Ah… well… I don't know yet, to be honest. But I'm working on it."

"Of course." Rowan sighed crossed his arms as he leaned back against the wall.

Ferris frowned, as Rowan's pessimism was written clearly across his face. He looked like he was about to say something, but a clatter of metal distracted them and all eyes turned to the door, where a pair of Desians were unlocking the cell bars.

"Alright, you worms," one of the Desians said, "which one of you is the highest ranking?"

Ferris glanced around at the others for a second, and then stepped forward and in a steady voice he said, "I am."

The Desian stepped into the cell and grabbed Ferris' arm. "You're coming with us."

Ferris looked back and gave the soldiers a reassuring smile before he was dragged out into the hallway and out of sight. The cell door slammed shut behind him, and Rowan slid down that wall to sit down again.

"Great," someone muttered from across the room. "Now we've lost Captain Asgard and the lieutenant."

"He isn't dead," someone else replied. "He'll be ok."

"We're all gonna die!" a third person said.

"Everybody shut up," yet another man said. "Wailing about like babies isn't going to help anyone."

There was a mumbled reply of, "Sorry, Second Lieutenant…"

Rowan sighed and leaned his head back against the wall. He felt useless just sitting here, but there was nothing he could do. And on top of that, he felt a tad bit guilty. After everything his dad had done to protect him when he was little, here he was, in a human ranch. Getting himself caught seemed like a poor way of repaying him.


"Lloyd what are you doing?"

"Huh?" Lloyd pulled his eyes away from the sky, where his gaze had been locked for the past ten minutes. "Oh. Well, I was thinking about the pigeon we sent. I mean, there are a lot of clouds up ahead over the mountains."

"I'm sure it will be fine," Kratos said. "Pigeons know how to fly in a storm."

"Oh no," Colette said. "That poor little guy. Imagine being all alone up in the mountains in a storm… I hope he's ok."

Kratos said, "I'm rather more concerned about wasting the Gald you spent sending that message."

Lloyd glowered at him. "Dad. Don't be so heartless."

Kratos muttered something that sounded a lot like, "It's just a pigeon…" but Lloyd didn't call him on it.

"Dad is right, Colette," Lloyd said, patting her shoulder. "I'm sure it will be just fine."


They were less than a day's walk from the ranch, and they still didn't have a plan. Spiritua led the way, her face locked in a determined expression. She didn't speak or slow down, and Kratos got the feeling that she'd keep blazing forward until they were at the gates of the ranch.

Behind her, Kratos walked with Pierce. Kratos had given Pierce another of his Apple Gels, figuring that they needed him to be in the best condition possible if they were going to pull something off. He still used the spear to help walk, but he was able to keep up with Spiritua's fast pace and his face was no longer constricted by pain with every step he took.

Kratos was busy trying to figure out how he could get Spiritua and Pierce to sit this out and let him go in on his own. Once in, he could hopefully simply order Dagen to release Rowan and the Cleopolican soldiers. From what he knew about Dagen, however, even if he could get in on his own, getting mercy out of the Cardinal would be like trying to squeeze water from a brick.

"So…" Pierce said after a long bout of silence. "Where are you from?"

Spiritua didn't look back, so Kratos took it upon himself to answer. "The Chosen is from Luin. I am an angel and come from the holy city."

Pierce did a double take and looked over at Kratos. "An angel, you say? Interesting. So how did you-"

Kratos put his hand up to halt him and turned around to scan the road. "We're being followed."

Spiritua evidently was listening, because she stopped and turned around to see what Kratos had spotted. Pierce looked back as well, and all three of them stood still for a minute to try and make out who it was. Kratos narrowed his eyes and as the figures came closer he was able to make out the outline of a handful of velocidragon riders. Velocidragons were the most popular mount in Sylvarant, but they were rather expensive and not many common people had them. Based on past experience, Kratos had a sinking feeling he knew what they were dealing with.

"Bandits," he said. Either they just happened to be unlucky enough to run into bandits twice within a couple days, or the bandits had purposefully followed them, probably because that idiot Rowan had decided to steal from them. "But how did they manage to track us?"

Pierce raised his eyebrow. "Have you had a run-in with them previously?"

Kratos nodded. "Yes, and it ended in the Chosen's brother trying to be smart and robbing them."

"Ah." Pierce nodded slowly. "Yes, I can see why they would have a gripe with that. As for how they tracked you, velocidragons have a fantastic sense of smell."

"There's no point in running," Kratos said. "With their mounts they can run much farther without tiring." They could fly, but carrying Pierce would be difficult and risk re-opening his wound. Kratos was willing to leave him to die if it meant saving Spiritua's life, but she would never go for that. And besides, he was pretty sure that now that Spiritua wasn't helplessly sick, he could handle fighting them. "We'll keep walking as we have been. When they get close enough to cause trouble, I'll deal with them."

"I'm afraid I won't be much use in a fight," Pierce said. "Can you handle them on your own?"

Kratos nodded. "It'll be fine."

They started walking again, though everyone kept glancing back every couple minutes to see how quickly the bandits were gaining on them. At their current rate, they'd probably catch up within ten minutes. Kratos casually drew his sword, ready for a fight. He looked over to see Pierce doing the same, though Kratos withheld telling him not to bother. As long as you were using a spear as a makeshift crutch, you shouldn't be trying to fight.

Before long, the footsteps of the approaching velocidragons reached Kratos' ears and his grip tightened on his sword. When he could hear the bandits coming just close enough, he whipped out his wings and whirled around, bracing his sword.

He narrowed his eyes and glared at the leader in a tricorn hat. "Stay back, brigands, or risk receiving the might of the heavens."

There were five pirates, and they pulled to a halt as soon as Kratos confront them. It would be difficult to fight all five of them, but if he could use magic, he could at least knock them all down with one move.

"I knew it," the captain said. "I thought I recognized you from a distance, but those wings prove it. You're that boy's friend."

"And what of it?" He wasn't going to bother arguing over the precise use of the word 'friend'. He saw movement out of the corner of his eye as Spiritua came to stand behind him, drawing her bow and pointing an arrow at the captain with a steely eye.

"Whoa, now," the captain said. "Easy now, we don't want to fight you."

"Oh?" Kratos said. "Then why were you following us?"

"We're looking for your friend. That boy had the gall to steal from us, and we think he needs to be taught a lesson."

"Here's not here."

All eyes turned to the soft but firm voice coming from Kratos' elbow. Spiritua's jaw was set and her eyes were narrowed, and if not for the fact that no one else in the vicinity were capable of mimicking the voice of a young girl one might be confused on if she had even spoken at all.

The captain stroked his goatee. "I see. Where is he, then? Hiding from us like a coward?"

Spiritua's expression narrowed.

"Oh, I get it now," the pirate captain said. "He's been taken to the ranch, hasn't he? That's why you're heading there." He sighed and slumped his shoulders. "That's a shame. I was hoping to get revenge on him, but if he's in the ranch then his fate is already sealed."

Spirit shook her head. "We're going to get him back."

Kratos and Pierce both tried to wear expressions that could match Spiritua's for confidence, but neither of them were able to summon enough in the face of breaking into the ranch.

The captain laughed allowed at Spiritua's statement, though. He crossed his arms and dug his heels into the stirrups of the saddle, and said, "Girl, do you know that no one has ever escaped from that ranch? What makes you think you're going to succeed where countless others have failed?"

"Because he's my brother," she said simply. "And losing him is not an option."

There was a long silence as the group of realistic, cynical, adult men looked down at the sheer optimism of the young girl. She was still at the age where despite overwhelming evidence from the world, she held onto the belief that if she really wanted something hard enough, it would come true no matter what. She was so determined to rescue her brother it didn't even cross her mind that she would fail. Kratos would have found it touching, if it wouldn't probably lead them to their deaths.

"You know…" the captain said, stroking his goatee once more. "I think I'd like to help you."

Kratos raised an eyebrow as Pierce practically did a double take. "Excuse me?"

"No one has ever stolen from us before," the captain said. "And I don't like the idea of letting the boy get off just because he got himself captured by somebody else."

"Why would we accept your help," Kratos said, "when you're just going to kill him as soon as we rescue him."

"I don't want to kill him," the captain said, rolling his eyes. "I do have standards. We're thieves, not murderers, and I try to avoid killing people. And besides… Desians do bad things, but they've crossed the line here by taking away this little girl's big brother. It's heartbreaking."

Kratos frowned slightly. The Desians had most certainly done things far worse than kidnap someone's brother, but they could use all the help they could get so he wasn't about to critique their reasons for helping. Still, they'd have to be careful. They could use the bandits' help to get in, but it was imperative that they ditch them before the bandits tried to break Rowan's kneecaps.

"No," Pierce said. "I will not ally myself with pirates." He spat out the last word like it was some filthy disease.

Kratos turned to Pierce and spoke in a low voice so that the bandits couldn't overhear. "I know it is unpleasant, but they could help."

"I've spent half my life trying to eradicate these barbarians from the Cleopolican region; I will not stoop myself so low as to work side by side with them."

"Then you may sit this out, because even if we refuse their offer, I doubt they will just go away now that they've decided they want to help. Furthermore, I am willing to take them up on their offer and five armed men are worth more to me than one injured soldier, so if this is beneath you, then by all means sit down and wait here."

Pierce held his gaze for a long moment, and then his shoulders slumped and he hung his head. "I understand."

Kratos nodded, and then looked up at the bandits. "Very well. We accept your offer of assistance."

Spiritua lowered her bow and put the arrow back in the quiver.

"Excellent," the captain said. "Then let us walk, and we will discuss our plan of attack."


"Oh man, Dad, you worked with pirates?"

"Yes, Lloyd. But as I've said, they weren't really 'pirates', they were-"

"Did they let you dress up as a pirate?"

"No. Because they weren't pirates. The only traditional 'pirate' garb they possessed was the captain's tricorn hat."

"Are they why you hate pirates so much?"

"…Where did you get the assumption that I hate pirates?"

"You know, when I got that pirate outfit from Aifread and you got that disappointed look on your face."

"No, Lloyd, I do not hate pirates. I was disappointed with your outfit because it was, to be frank, ridiculous."

"Oh…"


The population of the cell was steadily dwindling. Every fifteen minutes or so, Desians would come in and take another man out for unknown reasons, and those taken out had yet to return. Rowan didn't think they were being killed… at least he hoped not. It wouldn't make sense to kill them now after going through all the work of capturing them alive.

No one talked much. Some of the soldiers talked quietly on the other side of the cell, but Rowan sat by himself, arms wrapped around his knees, trying to decide what to do. He needed to get out of here so he could help Spirit, but how was he going to manage that? Spirit said that when she regenerated the world, the Desians would be sealed away and the prisoners released. He didn't know if he really believed that that would happen, but he supposed it was good to have hope. One thing was certain, though. He wasn't going to just roll over and die. Escape may not be viable, but he could do his part to make life difficult for the Desians.

The cell door opened and all conversation ceased as the pair of Desians entered. Rowan's arm was grabbed and he was pulled to his feet. As he followed the Desians out of the cell, he couldn't help but feel nervous. He had known this was coming eventually, but it was still nerve-wracking. After all, none of the other prisoners had been seen again. He calmed himself down by reminding himself why it made no sense to kill them, but his heart was still hammering when he was led into a small room and sat down on a hard chair.

There was a metal table in front of him, and across the table sat another Desian. He wasn't wearing a helmet and his uniform had more decorations on it, so Rowan assumed he was a high ranking office.

"Human Number M048," the Desian said with boredom, flipping through papers in a file in front of him. "I am Commander Vale. From now on, I control your life, so you would be advised to answer my questions truthfully and quickly. Do you understand?"

Rowan glared across the table at him. "Sorry, were you addressing me? Because my name is Rowan."

Vale's eyes narrowed and he smirked slightly. "So that's how it's going to be, then? Interesting. How many more troops are left behind in Cleopolica?"

Rowan shrugged. "A bunch?"

"Be more specific."

"Well, you see, there's more than twenty and after that I ran out of fingers and toes so I'm not sure."

"M-hm. Is there a plan to launch a second attack on the ranch should this one fail?"

Rowan shrugged. "I don't know; nobody tells me anything."

"Now that Captain Asgard is dead, what is the name of the man who will be his replacement?"

"Captain Jones." It was the first name that popped into his head. He didn't want to tell them that he wasn't really a solider like the rest of them, because that could lead to awkward questions about what he was doing here and might lead them to discovering that Spirit was the Chosen. If they knew she was nearby, they might try to kill her.

"Jones?" Vale raised an eyebrow. "And why is it that several of your comrades I've previously questioned told me that it was a one Lieutenant Aes?"

Rowan shrugged. "Maybe they're pulling your leg?"

"Are you answering these questions as truthfully as you can, M048?"

"Yes," Rowan replied in all honesty.

"I don't think you are. I think there's something you aren't telling me. Like why you were the only one brought in without a military uniform."

"I'm not a fan uniforms."

"I see." Vale shuffled his papers and rested them neatly on the table. "You know what I think? I think you're a useless kid who wandered into the middle of something he ought not be part of. None of your answers are truthful, and I would torture you for information if I thought you had any worth wasting effort to get."

Rowan scowled at him but had nothing to say that wouldn't just make things worse for himself.

Vale summoned the guards and once again Rowan felt hands grabbing him and pulling him from the room. They took him back down the corridor they had come through before, but instead of turning through the door on the right, they took the one on the left. The room they entered looked exactly like the one Rowan had been locked in before, complete with a cell full of Cleopolican soldiers.

They pushed him into the cell and slammed the door shut behind him. Rowan looked around the room and saw familiar faces, and he felt a bit of relief now that he knew for sure what had happened to all the prisoners taken out before him.

Rowan took a few steps forward, and then saw Lieutenant Ferris sitting on the ground and leaning against the wall. Rowan took a seat next to him and said, "Hey."

"Hey," Ferris muttered in response.

Rowan grimaced when he got a good look at Ferris. The lieutenant had blood running down his chin from his lip and his right eye was puffy and swollen. "Looks like you had a tougher interrogation than I did."

"Well," Ferris shifted his position, gingerly stretching his leg out, "unlike you, I actually know some information."

"Like what?" Rowan asked. "I don't get it. What do they want to know?"

"Stuff about Cleopolica's defenses. I think they're trying to anticipate if there's going to be another, larger attack, or they could be planning on attacking the city in response. Whatever the case, I certainly didn't tell them anything they wanted to know."

"I didn't either."

Ferris grinned at him. "No offense, kid, but you don't know anything they're interested in."

Except I do, Rowan thought as he looked down at his shoes. If they found out the Chosen was around, they might try to find and kill her. And no matter what, he couldn't let that happen. "Have you thought of a plan to get us out of here yet?"

Ferris sighed and wiped his chin, smearing blood across his hand. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back and said, "I'll work on it when I stop bleeding, ok?"

Rowan nodded with a frown even though he knew Ferris wasn't looking at him. "Ok."


A/N: By the way, I did a drawing of Pierce and Ferris a while ago. It's here: http:/ tinyurl .com/ 4lbqdhk (remove spaces)

No, I don't know why I did a drawing of two minor characters and not Rowan or Spiritua either.

Thank you for reading and reviewing!