Delays: They happen. Here's the next chapter; and breaking up the pattern, the next one's another Daxtin chapter. Also, I think this is the first time Daxtin and Diant have faced the same "boss" so far?
Chapter 11: That Girl
"Something stills seems odd," said Rann as they walked up the stairs. "Are you sure there isn't something we've forgotten?"
"How would I know, if I forgot it?" said Daxtin dryly. "Anyway, what's to forget? Diant's attacking me because he forgot that we're friends, and those girls are holding Naminé hostage, so we're going to rescue her."
"Don't forget the part where that's a trap," added Rann, then shook his head. "But that's not what I mean. You remember Naminé, and I know you really care about her, but wasn't there another girl?"
"What other girl? You mean Anya?" said Daxtin with a puzzled look on his face. "That's different."
"No, not her," muttered Rann. "Someone else… a princess or something."
"Why would I know a princess?" snorted the boy incredulously. "But I think I know what you're talking about. I kind of remember someone else…" He shrugged. "But whatever, I'm sure I'll remember as we go; just like I remembered Naminé, right?"
Then Daxtin ran ahead to the doorway into the next White Room as Rann followed slowly behind.
"Yeah," he said, unconvinced, then added under his breath, "or maybe it's something you're forgetting."
"A parade? Is it some kind of holiday?" asked Daxtin, looking around. All down the streets, festivities were in full swing. The high stone, terracotta colored buildings were decorated with colorful streamers and flags; the streets were crowded and the market stalls doing a lively business trade. All around was an air of celebration, with various clashing music styles and loud reveling voices.
"No idea," replied Rann, clearly not impressed.
"Come on, it could be something important," said Daxtin, sighing at his companion's lack of enthusiasm for, well, anything. So instead, he turned to a nearby spectator, a tall, lithe woman with dark skin and distinctly rabbit-like features, including a pair of tall ears standing tall above her wavy white hair. "Hey, do you know what's going on?"
"You from out of town?" she asked coolly.
"Um, yeah," replied Daxtin. It wasn't exactly a lie.
"Well, it's a parade for the coronation of the new ruler of Rabanastre, Prince Vahnen," she replied neutrally. "I came with some of the other Vierra to bear witness, but…"
"You'd rather be elsewhere, huh?" suggested Daxtin, eying the large hunting bow on her back.
"O-of course not," she stammered, flushing slightly. "It's an honor to be chosen to witness such a momentous event for our tribe's historical records, even if it is as a bodyguard to the true historians."
"Right," he said doubtfully. "Anyway, thanks for the info. We'll be leaving now."
With that, he turned from the Vierra and walked over to where Rann had waded through the crowd to get a closer look.
"Seems it's the coronation of some Prince or something," he relayed to the man. Rann grunted noncommittally. "Can you see him?"
"I think that's him, on the big float coming down the street," he replied, pointing over the heads of the crowd. Proceeded by fanfare and performers was an impressive, bordering on gaudy, parade float with a dashing young man in royal garb standing behind the chariot-like helm, a number of guards surrounding him. An odd shimmering surrounded the whole thing, and people pressing too close into the street seemed to be pushed back by it.
"What's the bubble?" asked Daxtin, tilting his head and standing on his tip toes to get a different angle.
"Some kind of barrier," surmised Rann clinically. "Not sure if it's magic or techno."
"Magic or what?" asked Daxtin, but before he could get an answer, there was a loud bang and a shattering noise.
Turning and looking over the panicking crowds, he saw the domed barrier surrounding the prince's float shatter like glass, shards reflecting the sunlight wildly before dissipating in midair. People were screaming, running for cover as the guards looked for the source of the disruption. Then there were several more bangs and the Prince and number of his guards fell down dead, shot cleanly by the unknown source.
"What's going on?" shouted Daxtin over the commotion. "Who's firing?"
"It came from up there," said Rann, pinpointing the source of the shots with professional ease. "Let's go."
"Wait, what?" said the boy, but already the brunette was pushing through the crowd to the building he had pointed to before. "Hey, wait!"
With a sigh, Daxtin followed through the panicking public after his stalwart companion.
"How much farther?" shouted Daxtin up the stairwell at Rann's back.
"Quiet," said the man seriously, not even looking back at him. "It's this floor."
Rann waited until the boy had caught up with him, and then signaled for him to be silent. After listening intensely for a few minutes, he then kicked in the door, gunblade in one hand, a fireball brewing the in other, that arm extended into the barren room. His glowing palm met with the tip of a steely arrow on a taut-strung bow, pointed straight at his head.
"You!" said the archer in surprise. It was the Vierra they had met before.
"And you," growled Rann, eyes untrusting. "Did you do it?"
"Does it look like I did?" she said, lowering her bow. "In case you didn't notice, those were gunshots. I only use bows."
"I noticed, on both accounts," said Rann, coldly, lowering his hand and letting the spell go out, but not putting away his blade. "Of course, you could just be saying such, but I was fairly certain it wasn't you."
"How do you know, as untrusting as you are?" asked the Vierra testily.
"Call it a hunch," said he said, strolling past her. "Besides," he added, kneeling down near an open window, "you don't reek of gunpowder. Judging from the poor quality of this gun, the blast marks, and ammunition… this guy's covered in the stuff."
"So, you came to investigate also, before the soldiers mess it all up, huh?" she said, walking over, Daxtin following behind. "Well, if what you say is right, it shouldn't be too hard to track the assassin. I have keen senses, and the trail isn't old."
"So, you know who we're looking for?" Daxtin asked the two of them.
"No idea," they said in unison, to the annoyance of both.
"But it's obvious he's an amateur," said Rann. "Professionals don't leave weapons at the scene; they ditch them elsewhere." He stood and looked about the room. "Seems he left in a hurry. So we're looking for someone nervous, hurried, suspicious, and most of all, reeking of gunpowder." He turned to the huntress. "If you'll lead the way?"
"Shaara," she said simply, staring levelly at them. Rann merely raised an eyebrow at her. "That's my name, in case you were wondering."
"I wasn't," he said shortly before walking out of the nearby back door, out onto a fire escape, leaving the Vierra to seethe as his boot steps echoed up as he clanked down the metal stairs.
"Sorry about that," apologized Daxtin, causing Shaara to look at him in mild surprise, as if noticing him for the first time. "My name's Daxtin, and he's Rann. He's not exactly the friendly type."
"So I gathered," she said. "And not the smart type either. 'Lead the way' he says, then goes off on his own."
"Yeah, he tends to walk off on his own a lot too," said Daxtin with a sigh. "We better catch up with him; he won't stop for us."
The streets outside were complete turmoil. Half of the populace was struggling to return to their homes, while the other half was trying to find out what was happening, either by trying to get the scene of the crime, getting to the royal palace, or just harassing any one of the many soldiers that were lining the streets, attempting to restore order. Riding on imposing looking tanks that hovered ominously down the street, officers were shouting through megaphones at the panicking people.
"Return to your homes," decried the static voices. "Martial Law is being implemented in Rabanastre by Judge Valentine's orders. Return to your homes."
"He's nearby," said Shaara, looking around and sniffing the air, her long ears twitching. Rann nodded in acknowledgment and casually scanned the crowd. Daxtin stood on his toes to try and see over the heads of the crowd, but was quickly pulled off balance by the Vierra grabbing his arm. "Quick, this way."
The three of them moved to one side of the shifty crowds, close the wall.
"What are we doing? Won't he get away if we just stand here?" whispered Daxtin urgently, though he was sure no one else could hear him over the commotion.
"You saw him too, right?" said Shaara, inclining her head towards Rann. The scarred man gave the slightest of nods. She turned back to Daxtin. "Try to look like we're just talking. He's behind me, at the corner with the brown overcoat."
Daxtin thought he spotted who she was talking about, though he couldn't see him all that clearly.
"How can you tell?" he asked them.
"His expression, his movements," said the Vierra. "He's panicked, worried. He jumps every time a soldier comes by."
"And the gunpowder smudge on his cheek," said Rann blandly.
"Can you really see all that?" said Daxtin, leaning out on tip toes to get a better look. Just as he managed to catch a glimpse of the man's face, the man saw him looking and took of at a run, around the corner and down an alley.
"He's spotted us," growled Rann, taking off after him. Shaara just shook her head at Daxtin then followed.
"Um, sorry?" said Daxtin, suddenly feeling very inept as he ran to catch up with the other two.
They cornered the man in the brown overcoat at the end of an empty alley. He was unshaven, panic-stricken and out of breath, while Shaara and Rann seemed perfectly calm, though both had their weapons drawn when Daxtin arrived.
"So, who are you working for?" asked the Vierra, an arrow already nocked and trained on the man's throat.
"W-what are you talking about?" he stuttered.
"We already know you shot the Prince," she said firmly. "Now who are you working for?"
"Do I look like a professional assassin?" he demanded of them, eyes bulging in terror.
"No, you look like an amateur one," said Rann bluntly.
"An amateur who was given equipment and instructions by someone else," added Shaara. "Meaning you're just pawn and highly expendable. Now talk."
"I-I can't," he sputtered helplessly, falling to his knees. "If I tell you, he'll kill me!"
"Well, he's not here right now, and we are," said the huntress. "And I have no qualms about killing a murderer like you."
"Shaara!" gasped Daxtin in shock, moving forwards to pull her away. However, Rann grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back.
"It doesn't matter," moaned the man hopelessly. "He'll send them after me. It's all over."
"Just tell us who and we'll turn you into the military," said Shaara, a little less harshly. "You'll have the best of protection until you are put on trial."
"Noooo…" he groaned hopelessly. "It doesn't matter. In the end, he'll still judge me…" He suddenly sat up, looking at them with wild, terrified eyes. "I've said too much."
"What?" asked Daxtin, confused.
"They're coming," said the man, shrinking back against the wall of the alley. As he did, the shadows behind him grew, then black clawed hands sprouted from the walls. Before they could do anything, multiple Heartless popped out and engulfed the assassin, dragging him back into their shadowy depths.
"What in the Lady's name was that?" demanded Shaara, jumping back from the shadows as they disappeared into the wall, taking their prisoner with them.
"Heartless," said Daxtin, looking around. Sure enough, more pools of darkness were forming around them.
"Come to finish us off," noted Rann. As he did, multiple shadows popped off of the ground, antenna twitching and yellow eyes looking about erratically. Then, dark portals opened, and dark, almost skeletal hounds walked out of them, their ring-like collars spinning languidly. Not waiting for them to make the first move, Rann charged the creatures, quickly slashing one right up the center and dispersing it.
Daxtin joined in, Joiner and Divider working in unison, weaving in a smooth pattern of destruction, leaving no openings while methodically taking out Heartless one by one. However, as he lunged out at one Heartless, a shadowy hound leapt at his unprotected back, maw agape displaying its fearsome fangs. Before it could strike, though, an arrow came whistling through the air, piercing its neck and ending its life.
Shaara stood at the end of the alley, calmly nocking another arrow and letting it fly. Soon the air was thick with projectiles, and Daxtin came to a halt for fear of moving in their way, though Rann showed no such reserve and no harm came to him. In short order, the two professionals brought the melee to a close, Rann expunging the last shadow with a short blast of fire from the palm of his hand.
"Why did you stop?" he asked as Daxtin walked up to him.
"I was afraid I might get shot if I moved," he admitted ruefully.
"You have to trust in your comrade's abilities," said Rann.
"Well, I didn't know her abilities, okay?" he said, stung by the brunette's disapproval. "How was I supposed to know?"
"That's another thing you have to learn then, kid," he said simply, sheathing his blade as Shaara came up. "Nice work."
"Thanks," she said absently, lost in thought. "I don't know what he meant though…"
"Yeah, it's not like he said who hired him," said Daxtin. "So I don't know why they took him out…"
"He claimed he had said too much," muttered the huntress, mulling it over. "What was it he said before?"
"Something about still being judged," supplied the boy.
"Of course," said Shaara, eyes widening in recognition. "The Prince was protected by a powerful law-spell denying entry to any and all foreign bodies. Only a powerful anti-law could have broken it. Plus, in such a state of emergency, with the royal family deceased and no next-in-line, the city falls under martial law. And with the Judgemaster not only the judicial head, but military head as well, he can probably keep it this way indefinitely. It has to be him!"
"Him who?" asked the boy.
"Judge Valentine," she answered. "We can't let a murderer rule fair Rabanastre."
"And he's working with the Heartless," said Daxtin. "It'd be a disaster!"
"So, where can we find him?" asked Rann.
"He'll be in the Royal Palace by now," answered Shaara. "Follow me."
There was a short round of protests and battle cries, and then the hallway outside the royal office fell silent save for the quick sound of boots on marble. Then the double doors burst open as the three avengers burst in.
"Well, well, well," said Judge Valentine with a sneer. "And to what do I owe the displeasure of this visit?"
"Enough," said Shaara sharply. "We know that you were behind Prince Vahnen's assassination."
"Is that so? And what can you even do about it?" said the armored man sardonically.
"Don't act so confident, Valentine," said Daxtin, stepping forwards, pointing Joiner at him. "We've already rallied half of the soldiers and a bunch of the other judges in our support. They've always known you'd do something like this."
"That's Judge Valentine, boy," he growled angrily. "You really think mere humans can stop me? Rally your people, boy, it will do you no good. I have with me the power of darkness itself, and you cannot defeat it."
"We already have," said Rann calmly, "many times."
"We aren't afraid of Heartless!" shouted Daxtin.
"Then I'll have to show you… true power!" roared Valentine, grabbing his enormous blade off of the desk before him. He cut through the desk with a powerful upwards slash, sending the two halves flying through the air at the trio. Rann and Shaara dodged to each side while Daxtin charged up the middle, through the storm of debris and right at the armored Judge. His twin strikes of the aura blades were easily swept aside by Valentine's gigantic sword, the sheer weight of the steel knocking Daxtin back as the two halves of the desk came crashing down on the polished marble floor behind them. However, before the judge could follow up with an attack, he was forced back by a series of arrows, each one shattering with stupendous force against his blade and armor, leaving harsh dents in its polished surface. Before he could even consider Shaara, though, it was Rann's turn.
The gunbladier lashed out with a powerful two-handed cut, the steel of his gunblade sending up sparks as it clashed with the Judge's sword. Firing a shot, the sudden ignition and discharge of an empty shell from the gunblade caused the armored man to flinch momentarily, just enough of a distraction for Rann to knock his blade out of the way and take a slash at him. Valentine managed to dodge back, but not before Rann cut a long rent in his armor, on the verge of actually piercing through the polished steel.
"You dare!" growled Valentine angrily. There was a flash of darkness, and all three combatants were thrown back from the judge. As they scrambled to their feet, they watched as the Judge's armor became awash with shadows, going from a polished, shining silver to a dark, oppressive black. Holding out his hand, a wave of dark tendrils shot forth, ensnaring all three of them in their shadowy grips. "This is the fate of all that resist me!"
"Damnit," growled Rann, struggling against the tightening bonds.
"To use such darkness...!" hissed Shaara through gritted teeth, fighting not to cry out as the entangling shadows threatened to crush her.
"Hahaha! Now do you fear the darkness, boy?" Valentine laughed madly, turning his extended arm and tightening the grip of the dark fetters. He grinned crazily at Daxtin, whose head was bent over, facing downwards. "Can't even speak, so deep is your despair? Now do you know my power?"
Daxtin mumbled something indistinct.
"What was that?" growled the Judge, his dark bonds threatening to crush them.
"I said, your darkness can never beat me!" he shouted, suddenly staring the man in the face. Determination burned in his eyes, and for a moment, Valentine's grip faltered.
There was a burst of light, then Joiner and Divider flew out from the darkness binding them to Daxtin's sides.
"Razor Light!" he shouted as twin lasers shot from the tips of the aura blades. The two blades spun about in midair, independently slicing apart the many tendrils of shadow that bound his companions and himself. As soon as he was free, he brought both blades back to him, the two spinning above his head, pointing at each other. Between them, the two opposing lasers struck in an ever-widening nexus. As the ball of light there grew, Daxtin charged forwards at the stunned Judge. Then, grabbing the handles of his blades, he swung them in a cross-slash, sending the ball of light at the darkly armored man. "Flash Bomb!"
There was an explosion of blinding light, and then it was over. The fading light revealed Judge Valentine, his blade broken and his armor in pieces, barely able to stand.
"Well played, boy," he rasped, before breaking off into a racking fit of coughing. "But… it's not over yet… Heartless!"
He made to raise his hand, but before his gauntlet could even rise an inch, he fell with a cry and an arrow in his shoulder.
"That's enough," said Shaara. "This city is not my home, but regardless, I will not see it so defiled."
"So, will you finish me off?" demanded Valentine.
"No," she said, shouldering her bow. "We'll let the other Judges do that."
"Well, I hope everything turns out alright," said Daxtin as they walked down the stairs of the palace.
"Probably not," said Shaara. "I was supposed to be here in a strictly observational capacity… oh well."
"Standing back and watching isn't really your kind of thing though, is it?" said the boy with a smile.
"I told them that, but they sent me anyway," she sighed. "I suppose I should go find the others. And you two?"
"We'll be moving on," said Rann shortly. "We were on an important mission before, but got sidetracked here."
"Well, sorry for inconveniencing you," replied the Vierra dryly.
"Whatever," he replied, striding ahead towards the doors.
"Sorry about that," apologized Daxtin, watching the warrior walk off. "He's-"
"Always like that, I gathered," said Shaara with a sigh. "Well, you better get after him, before he leaves you behind. See you around."
"You too," said Daxtin, following after Rann. It was not until after he walked out of the White Room with him that he realized he probably never would see her again, and even if he did, she would never have met him. It was just an illusion, but the further he walked in this castle, the more he forgot that. So what else was he forgetting?
