Disclaimer: Fuck that shit go to chapter one if you're a bitch about legal stuff.

Legacy of Dragoon

Chapter 11: Lords of the Underground

When the mocking laughter of their foe had at last faded away, the group was left injured, empty-handed, and silent. Cross sat with his back against the wall, his head in his hands. What he already knew to be true had been confirmed, but he hadn't learned anything new from the struggle. It all felt hopelessly pointless after the fact - like they had gone to such lengths for nothing. Angela, who was still tending to her friends, had acquired a blank look to her eyes as she worked. There it had been again; proof that everything she had been raised to accept and advocate was untrue. She was too confused to think clearly about anything. Pearl looked apologetic. Somehow, she felt responsible for the sour mood they had been left in, having been the one to interrogate Bouillard. She wanted to cheer everyone up, but words escaped her at the time. So she occupied herself by searching for another switch to open the passage. Soren stood with his hands on his hips, staring out the window. The four of them barely noticed when Ikaika stood up and approached them.

"Hey, it's... Ikaika, right? Do you know where that passage goes, or where your boss might have run off to? We really need to find him," Pearl spoke to the woman as though they had not been fighting tooth-and-nail mere minutes before.

"Former boss now, I'm afraid," she replied in a disappointed tone, to the surprise of everyone in the room, "Henri is going to go into hiding now. He'll be out of the city within the hour, and the country by tomorrow night."

The four seemed to simultaneously sigh their disappointment. They were a curious bunch to her, and she was particularly intrigued by the boy sitting near the wall. He seemed more stricken by the news than his companions. Ikaika turned to leave and found it startlingly hard by the time she had taken a few steps. What was this feeling?

"I didn't know anything about the fields," she said without emotion, "but maybe I would have had second thoughts about working for Henri if I had. I only did it because-"

Suddenly Cross had an idea.

"You're out of a job now right?" He stood up and directly addressed the warrior whose back was to him.

"You should come work with us! We could really use you, and we can even have you paid for it if-"

"Cross!" Angela muttered venomously, "are you sure you should go making promises before asking the king?"

Ikaika hadn't heard her. "Use me, hm?" She seemed amused by the idea.

"Well, that's not exactly what I meant... but you sure gave us a hard time. And I've got a feeling it's only going to get more difficult from here on in, so... um... you're help would be much... appreciated?" He tried carefully to word it right.

She thought hard about it. She had worked for Henri because of his connections to the church, not for the money. But she wouldn't tell them that. Not yet. Now she had her own questions that needed to be answered, and these were the only people she could turn to.

"Alright, show me to your employer. We'll have to discuss my terms and pay from there."

Schuldiner was having a great day. He strode calmly past the parapets of the castle, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his face and the wind on his neck. Getting rid of those bothersome children and that pompous scholar had turned out to be the perfect start to his day. They had surely given up when realizing the difficulty of their mission, and if not had perished in the effort. It left him in a good mood for the rest of the morning and well into the afternoon, despite the mounds of paperwork he had been forced to file under 'Shadow Chasers'; the codename for His Majesty's secret service. Four new names had been added to the roster -Sir Soren, Cross, Angela and Pearl- which he would be sure to burn when they didn't retu-

"Hey, Captain! Captain!"

He glanced around. All the guards were manning their stations (especially since he was around) and none seemed to be approaching him with urgency. But still, he knew that voice...

"Down here!"

Over the edge of the wall and down was a sight that seemed to shake his very being. All four of them were still alive, relatively unharmed and what was worse; they had another one with them. Wonderful. More paperwork. He met them beyond the gates, in the vast courtyard alive with a mosaic of floral magnificence. Sure to step on a wilted magnolia as he approached them, he clasped his hands formally behind his back. He was wringing them vigorously with frustration.

"Good to see that you're all... alright!" He smiled.

"Bad news, cap. The mission was a failure," Pearl gave a thumbs-down, "are we fired?"

"Well, it depends. How so of a failure? Your identity was not compromised, was it?" He finally let some of his anger show through.

"No, our integrity is sound," Soren breathed, "we managed to infiltrate the mansion" (Schuldiner's eyebrows nearly climbed to his hairline) "and question the target. He admitted to financially aiding the Church of Soa and gave some subtle indication that they were, in fact, responsible for the genocide. But nothing of much use. Then he escaped."

The Captain's mood changed. He had underestimated these vagrants. Perhaps they were not such a nuisance at all - perhaps they were useful.

"Perhaps the mission was not a complete failure after all. I mean, you're all still alive, aren't you?"

"You're right, Captain," the farmer, Cross spoke. He didn't like that one. Something about the electricity in his gaze was unnerving.

"I still wish we could have gotten more out of that Bouillard. He was so scared he would have spilled everything to us to save his neck. That guy was a rat."

"More of a snake, actually," Angela spoke without looking up from her book, which had consumed her once again, "he looked like more of a snake-"

"Whatever. Besides all that, we found a new ally. This is Ikaika. She- hey!"

Ikaika had turned around and started to walk away again.

"Wait, where are you going? Aren't you going to help us? I said we could pay you if that's-"

"That was before I knew you four were working for the knighthood. This is all over my head. Besides, I doubt that I'm wanted here."

"We have plenty of knights at our disposal. It has never been necessary for the kingdom of Izezuza to stoop to hiring mercenaries."

"What about us?" Pearl asked.

"That's different..." Schuldiner began before he was cut off by a bellow from behind him.

"Captain! I see you're debriefing the honorary recruits of the Shadow Chasers here. Have they completed their first assignment already?"

The king Adalbert Aemelius advanced toward them, followed by two guards in full regalia who fell several steps behind as he neared the group.

"Yes, Your Highness. They acquired little information..." he looked to their expectant faces, "...but completed their mission nonetheless."

Cross felt a surge of pride. He prepared to address the king, who was clothed in a surprisingly ordinary riding uniform of the traditional green colour. He must have just come from the stables, because his cloak was still decorated with bits of straw.

"Ad- I mean, Your Highness, uh Sir. I was wondering if we-"

Soren saw the boy struggling with his words and stepped in.

"What the boy's trying to say, Adalbert, is that it has been brought to our attention that that woman over there," he pointed toward Ikaika, who was staring at the King, "is not to be taken in for just her looks. She is a great warrior of tremendous skill who is not to be trifled with. She has also expressed interest in joining our cause, but for a slight monetary earning."

He rubbed the tips of his thumb, index and middle fingers, signifying money.

"Your Majesty," the captain butted in quickly, "it is my humble duty to suggest that the public may not be pleased if we consort with mercenaries. We have a knighthood for that, it's not like we can just let anyone join at their own insistence."

"Bastion, I'm disappointed with you," the soldier blushed at the use of his first name, "it is a secret service, is it not? The public doesn't have to know. Soren, if it is your wish that this woman be your escort, I will see to it that she is paid in full. I trust your judgement."

As Soren thanked him he surprised them all by strolling across the yellow cobblestones and offering his hand to the exotic beauty.

"I take the word of my friends over all others, and I pride myself in taking no part of discrimination. It would be my pleasure to welcome to into the Shadow Chasers, should you accept it."

Her expression did not change. A king's money was as good as anyone else, but this meant something more. Her intrigue concerning their motives won over, however, and she took the monarch's hand. Besides, she had not expected to be shaking hands with the king today. He swiftly raised the soft, dark flesh to his lips and kissed it. She did not react, save a nod of her head.

"So very serious," he said politely, not letting his disappointment show, "Soren must be right about you."

"I earn my salary. And I wouldn't want to disappoint Your Majesty, or any of my employers for that matter."

"Excellent. Then it's settled. You'll be joining your friends on their next mission, when the captain and myself choose to assign it. And you'll have to swear your confidentiality, of course. A guard will show you to your quarters inside."

"What about my rate?"

"It's not important," he waved his hand, "leave a note for the maid and your gold will be there when you return."

"Funny, I've never heard of maids who leave tips."

He laughed loudly at that, then turned back to the others.

"There you have it. I'll be seeing you all tomorrow. Captain Schuldiner, come with me. We have some things to discuss."

The captain stifled a groan. How had they earned the king's favour so easily, when he had been working so hard for so many years?

The next day the air was filled with moisture boiled out of the ocean and ground by the beaming sun. The mugginess amplified the temperature to an even greater degree, so that less people were outside of their homes and those who did wore scarce clothing or carried fans. Lately it was always sunny in Fletz. In the pleasantly cool cellar that was their headquarters on castle grounds, the entire team of the secret service had been assembled. Even the king himself was present for this briefing. Schuldiner stood before his men, his slithery, serious voice consuming the damp air of the basement.

"Though the rest of you may not be aware, we have some new recruits in the Shadow Chasers. You're new colleagues have already completed their first mission and gained some valuable information, and I expect the lot of you to be just as tenacious. We have entered a volatile time. A time where the peace we have broken our bones and spilled our own blood to maintain shows it's true fragility. War is now a very real possibility. This is what you've all been training for. Though they may never know your name, this is when you show your country what you will give to protect it."

Cross looked at the dark faces around him. There was no admiration, no sentimentality. They were all disconnected, unmoved by their captain's patriotic and emotional speech. Perhaps their seriousness was why they were who they were, able to complete any mission at all costs, unhindered by feelings. In that way he envied them.

"Most of you know the situation so far; we have reason to believe that the church of Soa has committed genocide in our southernmost state and now the Neo-Dragonians are on the move. We know what they're capable of and that they will stop at nothing to rid the world of the church for what they have done. Noble as that may seem, we cannot ignore the potential damage this will cause to our sovereign nation. Death has been brought to our lands, and to them... death is the only answer."

He glared at them from beneath his brow and plodded to a nearby map on the wall. He pointed on the map to a point west of what was marked as Fletz, where the jagged coastline formed a bay near the collapsed former city.

"As of yesterday we are aware of a shipyard in this location. Corporal Dene was assigned to investigate the area, and his entire team was annihilated in the ensuing struggle."

Uneasy grunts began to fill the room. Cross twisted around to see the aforementioned Dene leaning against the back wall with his arms folded before him. Nearly his entire face was bandaged excluding a single hateful eye that peered out at them. The farmer gulped. He hoped that wasn't where they were going next.

"Quiet! Eyes up front, men! We don't yet know what the purpose of this shipyard is, but it seems to have appeared overnight. It may be where the mercenaries of the church originated from, or it could be something completely different. The majority of you will be tasked with obtaining as much information about this as possible. Use all of your contacts, and stay alert. There's no telling what those involved might do to keep this quiet. So good luck. Dismissed!"

Cross and the others stood up to leave.

"The five of you stay here with myself and His Majesty."

They could hear the mumblings of the other soldiers as they filed out of the room, complaining about how the rookies got special treatment when they were stuck with the cold investigations.

"The king and myself came up with a special assignment for you four- is she taking part in this?"

Angela had remained seated, glued to the pages of her book which were hardly visible in the dim candlelight.

"Yes, ah, I'm listening."

"I wouldn't have guessed. From the last mission you might have realized that our best way of tracking the church is through financial activity. We have tabs on every major transaction that takes place within these city walls."

"How's that?"

"Years ago," the king explained, "we realized that the banks in this city were corrupt and profiting off the needs of the people. Extortion, blackmail, it's amazing what power people will assume they have once they get enough money. Since the royal family itself has it's own treasures and gold, we took it upon ourselves to subsume every bank and protect the gold of the citizens along with our own. A whole knighthood is dedicated to the protection of these branches. It also allows us to track large sums being moved about. Even the church can't hide them from us."

"Anyway," the captain continued, "this has allowed us to locate another target. We've been tracking this one for some time now."

"Another rich house for us to break into?" Cross seemed displeased, "is this going to be the same as last time?"

"The same, and still different," the king pointed out, "I'm afraid you may find this one a little more difficult."

"Thank you, Your Highness. And he is correct. Your last assignment was... a test. I guess you could look at this one as the 'real thing'."

"What have you got in mind?"

"Your target this time is a Ms. Agnes Roderick. She's a wealthy widow nearly a century old. Never worked a day in her life. She inherited her husband's entire estate since her children had either died at war or of sickness. But she isn't the one you want to watch out for."

He produced a sketch of a broad-shouldered man with blonde hair cresting a high, wrinkled forehead. Above his almond-shaped eyes one of his thick eyebrows was fissured in two. The countenance looked remarkably lifelike, and mean.

"She hired this man, Bryce Barra, as her head of security. Old woman, living all alone, more money than she knows what to do with, has got to have protection. He built a twelve-foot wall surrounding the entire house that seems to block out more than intruders, but anything that goes on inside. We believe it was he who convinced her to donate part of her fortune to the church, since our spies are constantly finding him at processions and gatherings. He's an elusive bastard, though. I've had men track him to dead-end alleys where they say he just... disappears."

The captains' face seemed more than disconcerted as he said this.

"Also, him and his security personnel are closely linked to this man."

He brought forward yet another sketch. The second profile showed a man with chiseled features, gruff facial hair, square jaw, a calm expression and black hair. He looked confident, like he may have killed whoever the artist had been shortly afterwards.

"Who's that?"

"I know who that is," Ikaika spoke in her musical yet tough voice, "that's Ryle Salmillia, lord of the Fletz underground, isn't it?"

"That's exactly right," Schuldiner looked up from the portrait, "many consider him the most dangerous and influential criminal to ever walk these streets. He's a pirate moored in the great docks attached to the city, and we've somehow been unable to locate his vessel."

"He sure looks the part." Pearl mused.

"He's killed many of my men. In the event that you encounter him, I would suggest you stay clear. There's no telling what he might do. Remember, your target is either Barra or Roderick, since they have the information you need. A fight with Salmillia will only lead to unnecessary violence."

"Alright, captain," Soren gathered the documents in one giant paw, "thank you for the ample warning. We'll be sure to use our better discretion on this mission."

"You'd better be sure," Schuldiner spoke with a caution yet unheard from him, "your lives may just depend on it."

When they were on the considerably less populated streets of the city once again, descending the crest of a steep hill leading to the western district of Fletz, Cross felt a tug at his shirt. It was Ikaika.

"Cross, I know now what our mission to the knighthood is, but something still... troubles me."

For the first time Cross saw the stone-cold mercenary get flustered.

"I can see something else that drives you. Something beyond just a mission owed to the King of your country. I see a man who has something deep inside him like an open wound."

Now Cross felt a little flustered. No one had referred to him as a 'man' before, unless it was some kind of joke.

"I... don't know what you're talking about."

"You're not very good at hiding it. It's in your eyes, it's in the way you fight. I've seen it before. It's hate that drives you. So tell me Cross; where does your hate come from?"

The young man sighed and looked behind them. Their allies had fallen back a little, Pearl and Soren joking amongst themselves, Angela even further back, still consumed by her book. He turned back around. From where they were on the hill they could see out to the fields beyond the city, and just at the horizon the black smoke clouds billowing out to the ozone. She followed his eyes to the spot and noticed it for the first time.

"Have you ever lost someone you loved? Or, I should say, had them taken away from you?"

"Yes." Her voice and overall attitude changed, but he ignored it.

"Everyone I ever loved," he pointed ahead to the clouds, "is up there. A part of that smoke. My father's up there."

It was harder to get the last part out than he had thought. He nearly choked on the words. The pain was still there, still strong.

"Oh," another first from the cold mercenary; she now showed some emotion. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. There's someone out there, someone in the church, who I'm going to make sorry. I know it was someone in that damn church, and I don't know what made them think they could just... destroy me like that without any consequence. But I'll make them pay."

"At least you're still here, and alive."

"What?"

"You said they destroyed you, but you're still here. You're still alive. What you do with your life is your choice, but you should live it to its best."

"I didn't say that. I said they destroyed my home."

"No, you- never mind," she broke off and walked further ahead, ending the conversation.

What was that all about? He hadn't really said that, had he? This new ally of theirs was certainly strange. If Cross didn't know any better, he'd say she wanted nothing to do with attacking the church like this. The way she reacted to their objective was strange, but... he guessed that he shouldn't just make assumptions like that. Still...

"Hold on," Soren's massive hand clasped his shoulder, "that's it up ahead."

The street they were on exited into a court with a grand fountain in the center. Children who had been playing regardless of the heat cooled themselves by splashing in the water until a nearby guard chased them out. Their feet left tiny wet prints on the stone that evaporated seconds later in the sweltering heat. To their right was an old boarded-up building with stained-glass windows and a tin roof. An abandoned church, eery and ominous in the still day. A ways down the street from that was a tall stone gate surrounding a huge, sprawling mansion that would have made Henri Bouillard green with envy. Every few feet sharp metal spikes jutted from the stone surface, and at the front of the estate was an elaborately forged steel gate, behind which several guards could be seen sweating for their pay. It was in the middle of everything, and much more well guarded than Bouillard's abode. It would be far more difficult to get inside.

"Okay, now's where we start arguing about what to do next, right?" Pearl clapped her hands together, "or did somebody have a plan this time?"

"Actually, I did have something in mind for this," Soren piped up.

"Aw, I wanted to come up with a way to get in this time, even if it was by accident," disappointment soaked her voice.

"The four of you wait near the wall next to the gate, and make sure you're not seen. I'm going to do a little soliciting."

The others did as they were told as Soren brushed off his clothes and put on his business face. He picked between his teeth with a nail, took a deep breath and pushed his chest out before approaching the gate.

"Excuse me, sir! Beautiful day isn't it? I was wondering if I could please speak to your supervisor?"

The guard stared at him from between the bars with the face of a hungry wolf staring at a pile of tree bark. His exhausted face was drenched with sweat, the morning had taken its toll on him so far.

"Bryce! There's some stiff at the gate! Looks like he's selling something!"

Soren found himself not waiting very long at all before the blonde man from the sketch made his way to the gate and looked suspiciously out at him. As he got nearer Soren realized that he was nearly the same height as the man called Bryce, and the drawing did him more justice than his hateful face was worth.

"What's your story merchant?" He growled.

"I was wondering if I could come inside and speak to Miss..." he had to try to remember the name. The intense, somewhat frightening face before him had caused his memory to lapse. "Roderick! I was wondering if she'd be interested in purchasing some..." (he hadn't thought about it) "furniture! I have some exquisite furniture crafted from the finest Serdian redwood and cedar that would certainly befit an upper-class citizen such as-"

"Where are your wares?"

"Pardon me?"

"Where are your wares? You don't come to somebody's door selling expensive furniture and not have a sample of some sort."

"Well, I'd have to carry it all-"

"Not that a big guy like you would have a problem carrying a couple pieces of furniture, but a merchant would have a cart and horse to carry all that on. You're a terrible liar."

"Sir, surely you jest, I-"

"No, I ain't 'jesting'. And as much as I'm curious about why you thought a bunch of bullshit like that would get you in here, I'm just going to tell you to get the hell out of here before I have my men drag you inside and take a couple of your fingers so you remember not to come back."

"My intention was only to-"

"Shut up! Yeah, I bet you're intentions were only to sell some furniture to some rich old lady, but did you think I didn't know about that bunch you got hiding around the corner?"

Soren's mouth gaped. He shut it to try and come up with a response, but it only opened soundlessly again. This guy was good. Security worth every penny. Either that or he was trying to hide something more than an old woman's fortune.

"Now do what I told you and get the hell outta here."

At first Soren didn't move. Despite the gate separating them, he was rooted in place by Barra's vicious stare and sharp tongue.

"Go on."

He retreated. His companions met him a few steps away, clueless as to what to do next.

"Well, I think we can say that was a complete failure," Cross admonished.

"Hey the big guy tried didn't he? Don't give him too hard a time."

"Thanks, Pearl. But something about him... he even knew that you were all waiting out here to break in. He's good. He might be too good for us to even hope to get in."

"I've got a backup plan," Ikaika said, "Cross, you and Pearl come with me. When we get in, we'll open up the gate for you two. Come on, this way."

Pearl eagerly followed her back the way they had come. Cross hung back for a moment, wondering why Soren and Pearl couldn't join them, then followed. Ikaika led them into an alley some way down the street and began to climb a drainage pipe on the wall.

"What are we doing?"

"We can't get in through the front, so we're going to drop in from above. We'll go across the rooftops and then find a way over the gate. Then we let Soren and Angela in, and from there..." She continued to climb up.

"I like this idea! I'm sure glad we brought you along now, Ikaika!" Pearl began to easily haul herself up the iron pipe, like the huge blade attached at her back wasn't even there.

Cross had a little more difficulty working his fingers into the small space between the pipe and the wall. He could barely grip onto the thin steel fasteners attaching the pipe to the wall, and his feet kept slipping off. Soon his fingers were raw, making it even harder. As he desperately tried to reach the top, one of his fingernails caught and was ripped off. No wonder they didn't bring the other two, it would have been impossible to get them up. After a struggle that left his hands bleeding and his arms feeling weak and hurt, he finally hoisted himself over the ledge. When he stood, all he could see in any direction were shingled and flat roofs, the occasional spire or wall, and sky. It was a pleasant change from the cluttered streets below, and he was suddenly glad he had come along. That gladness soon dissipated when Ikaika told them what to do next.

"We jump across until we reach the mansion. Keep running, and don't lose any speed. You don't want to fall."

She broke off and began running at full speed, leaping effortlessly to the next rooftop when she reached the edge. Pearl happily followed, and the two acrobatically dived and flipped over and across anything in their way. Showoffs. Cross clumsily followed, nearly slipping at every jump and falling far behind. Far away, a novice roofer sat up in his harness and wiped the sweat from his brow. Holding his hand up to shield his eyes from the sun, he shouted to his cousin.

"Hey, check out these crazy folks!"

His cousin, a seasoned roofer of many years, sat up from nailing down shingles and shielded his eyes in the same manner. A good ways away they could see the trio jumping from building to building, ooh-ing their approval at every leap and flip. The younger worker noticed that two of them were girls, and pretty ones too. It was an interesting distraction.

"Alright, quit wasting time, asshole. The sooner we lay these shingles, the sooner we can get drunk."

He couldn't argue with that, so he got back to work.

Meanwhile, the three daredevils soon reached their objective. But the jump was too far, the fall would surely break them upon impact with the ground.

"What now?" Cross panted. He was already drenched with sweat.

"There's got to be some way we can..." Ikaika thought hard but she, too, seemed to be at a loss.

"I know! I got an idea now! Ha! Just you two wait!" Pearl flew over a nearby chimney and was out of sight.

She returned with a wooden ladder tall enough to exceed the sides of the building they were on.

"Where did that come from?"

"Some nice guys laying flat stuff on a roof lent it to me. They said we'd have to bring it back, though."

"What are we gonna do with it?"

The two girls looked at Cross wordlessly. He gulped.

Ten minutes later the ladder was propped level on top of a chimney as close to the edge as they could find. Pearl stood on one end, both hands on the topmost rung, while Ikaika held the wooden frame steady against the brick platform. At the opposite end of the ladder, Cross dangled twenty feet over the ground. He looked down to see his own sweat drip onto hapless passersby below. Heights didn't bother him, but this felt ridiculous.

"Why am I the one -ugh- out on the end?" He strained to hold on.

"Stop complaining," Ikaika called, "we'll lower you down."

Slowly Pearl began to let Cross' weight lift her end of the ladder, up to her chest, then her shoulders, over her head. Ikaika's grip became firmer as the ladder tried to slide off the chimney. Still looking downward, Cross watched as the ground drew closer. He lifted his knees as he was lowered towards the metal spikes planted into the top of the wall, but when the ladder was completely down and resting on the edge of the stone structure his was on the other side, intact. He let his hands slip off the sanded wooden rung and fell a few feet to the ground.

"It worked! I don't believe it! Come on dow-"

The rest of the sentence came out as a croak when an arm bound in hard muscle clamped around his throat. He had been looking down the whole time, and unable to see if any of the guards were watching his entry. He could only futilely lift his hands up to the crushing appendage, where he felt the striated muscles stand out. The yellow rock wall in front of him began to turn grey.

At the top of the ladder, Ikaika knew something was wrong right away.

"You'd better hold on to that tight," was all she said to Pearl before she vaulted onto the ladder and ran, her feet landing precisely on each rung like a cat, down the ladder.

As she neared the wall she saw a burly man choking Cross from behind, and without a moment's thought bounded into the air and delivered a straight kick to the face of the guard. Her heel opened a wide laceration on his forehead, and before the blood could begin to spill down his face he had stumbled back and released his grip. Not a moment later his was dead on the lawn, a fresh wound delivered precisely through his heart.

"Tha-haaanks," Cross heaved, "would've be-heen, de-hed if you-"

"Don't mention it," she interrupted coldly, flinging the blood from her black blade with a single sweep.

"Gee, that was brutal," Pearl added in from the top of the wall. She had slid down the ladder and her feet were each stopped on a metal spike. "You okay Cross?"

"No," he said, rubbing his neck, "let's get this over with."

Soren was soaked with boredom and sweat outside the walls of the mansion. His fellow sentry had kept to her reading with fastidious dedication, and now to quell his unease he attempted to peer over her shoulder at the cryptic manual. What he saw on the fresh white pages was not what he expected. There were no words to be seen, only intricate lithographs, pentacles and interwoven symbols forming complex glyphs on the page. A strange type of scrawling text could be located on the rims of circular patterns and filling what few empty spaces there were. His eyes had shifted out of focus without his knowing, and beyond the page he could see some meaning to the symbol, as if he was beginning to understand it.

Angela clamped the text shut. Soren felt a brief spark of anger flare at this strange focus being interrupted.

"What, precisely, was that you were reading? It seems oddly fascinating..."

"It's nothing," she spoke with startling audacity, "the man at the bookstore said only certain people can read it and understand. You'd probably just be wasting your time."

She seemed frustrated with having read the book as well. Soren was taken aback at the way she snapped at him.

"We'll see about that... what bookstore did you purchase it at? The one on Hasting Street right off the market, huh?"

"Yeah- I mean, no! Forget I said that, it... wasn't... I never said what store we went to! How did you-"

"I just guessed. Fancy little trick, that."

"It's not a trick at all!" She huffed. "You'll just be wasting your money on one anyway."

"Money spent on a book is never money wasted. You know that as much as I."

"Whatever."

Soren couldn't help but chuckle. She was beginning to act a little like Cross when she was irritated, which was less often then the volatile farmhand. Still, he could tell what that meant.

A commotion broke out near the gate. There was a yell followed by a loud ruckus that broke the thick air of the day. Moments later there was a metallic crash as the gate opened from the inside. Upon rounding the corner Soren could see the bodies of the guards on the ground, still as the day. Looming over them were the three who had ventured elsewhere to find a way inside. Whatever it had been, it had worked.

"Excellent work! Where did you find a way in?"

"Up," was Pearl's explanation.

"Let's get inside, they already know we're here." (Ikaika)

"Yeah, it's a mess in there. Guards all over the place, but no sign of Barra yet. The sooner we get out, the better," Cross motioned them forward with his arm.

Beyond the walls of the grand house was an interior more modest than they had expected. The entirely wooden floors were covered with non-matching rugs that looked expensive nonetheless, no more than a single painting was afforded to each wall and the furniture that wasn't worn out or ripped was disappointingly plain. It was a shame because whoever had built the structure had gone to great lengths to create several interior and exterior balconies, countless pillars, archways, expansive rooms, stairways and high ceilings were abound. The whole thing was much more maze-like than the last of its type they had encountered because few hallways were straight and there was more than one way in and out of every room. The five of them fought their way from the front to the back of the house and over several floors with no sign of either the old woman or the previously seen Bryce Barra, even in the fortified master bedroom.

"This isn't getting us anywhere!" Cross said as he tossed a defeated guard over a bedside table, "where the hell could they have gone?"

Angela suggested; "You don't think they got away through some escape passage like Henri Bouillard did, do you?"

"Even if they did, I'm not ready to give up yet."

"Hey guys, over here," Pearl stood beyond the curtains (which were silk, surprisingly) separating the bedroom from a balcony overlooking what was left of the cityscape before it gave way to ocean.

"It's a nice view, Pearl, but what's so important about it?"

She cupped the farmer's jaw and aimed his gaze to a courtyard at the back of the property. Among the wilted garden and untended, green ponds scattered among the interlocking brick were several men who did not appear to be among Barra's outlaw guards. They, too, were armed but appeared more gruff and threatening than the handful of guards he had felled to reach their position. From the second floor balcony he could see one of them wearing a black trench coat.

"Who do you think those guys are?" She asked.

The man in the trench coat paced forward, an agitated glean to his movements that did nothing to affect his confident stride. He spread his arms out, palms up, and turned around on the heels of his boots. He seemed to be challenging the emptiness of the abode.

"Where the fuck is Bryce? Can anyone tell me that? Why the fuck would he tell me to come out to this shithole of a mansion and then not even be here? Does he think he's running this show now?"

There was no answer from his men. They were utterly afraid. With a hint of panic Cross suddenly recognized his black, neatly combed-back hair and the lazy moustache that drooped slightly over the sides of his mouth to terminate before it could meet with the grove of bristles on his chin.

"Maybe he forgot we were coming. You know, like he got distracted with something," one lackey with long dreadlocks spoke in a light, quavering tone.

"Koryn, nobody forgets when they've got a meeting with me; Ryle, Lord of the Underground, remember? Maybe if you weren't such a fuckin' idiot, you would have remembered."

"Oh no, it's him. I think we should leave now, this might be getting over our heads." Cross had not dropped his voice at all, and the pirate below ruffled his eyebrows before looking up at the balcony.

"Hey! Hey, who are you? You know what's going on here?" He shouted up at them.

"Uh, no. We were just on our way out."

"Oh, this is bad news, boss. This place is being raided, we gotta get outta here before the knights show." A lanky henchman with pasty skin whined in the same voice as the first one, only higher in pitch.

"Fuck that, Trevid, look! It's a bunch of kids! Think you can't handle that?" Their leader pointed up to the perch on the second floor.

"Get 'em, boys!"

And there you have it. I cut back on the cursing in previous chapters because most of it will be condensed into a single character. He's one evil, bad person. But is he on the right side? Only time will tell. Took a bit of a gamble in the last chapter with humans maybe using magic and all, but this is all about trying new directions with the world set forth in Legend. Another playthrough of that game showed me that not a whole lot was set in stone. Whatever, I'm having fun. Thanks for reading.