Notice to Lord F— - Sadar, Astauria

Approval from H. R. H. granted for the use of the region's designated military personnel, effective immediately. Detailed instructions sent to Col. R— O—. Send bi-monthly reports on all activity.

Message approved by H. —, High Commissioner - Palas, Astauria

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Le Treizième

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The First Sighting

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"How did you get this?" asked Hitomi quietly.

She held up the torn paper up to the candlelight, fascinated by the perfect image of the Astaurian Coat of Arms stamped beneath the High Commissioner's loopy signature. From the other side of Hitomi's desk, the mole man grinned at her mischievously.

"I dug a hole in the ground one day, on a fancy. Upon returning to it the next day I found—among a few other things—this note, which was carelessly left behind. I thought you might like it, so here it is."

"Convenient," said Hitomi darkly.

"Well, I thought so," replied the mole man, indifferently.

"Of those 'other things' that were found in this hole, were there perhaps any people?"

The mole man grinned again.

"Perhaps. I hardly remember, little lady."

Hitomi slumped back against her chair with unease. She glanced at the door of the lounge, wondering whether Amano could hear their conversation. It wouldn't be difficult, if he wanted to. In the three days since Hitomi had closed the inn, it had become a cavity of silence. The smallest noise was clearly audible from all corners of the building, and, in her desire to hear some noise, every movement was given undue importance.

Right on cue, a (relatively) loud creak sounded from the foyer: Amano must have taken to pacing the floor.

Part of Hitomi wanted Amano to eavesdrop. This was the ever-present coward within herself whose yearn for more security never ceased – if her dealings with the mole man went badly, Amano would be more available to help. This would never do, of course; Amano must not be implicated in her plan.

Still, Hitomi hated the idea of Amano feeling excluded or unappreciated. Amano said little when Hitomi had brought the mole man to the inn, and only maintained a grim countenance. Being unable to understand Hitomi's intuitive decisions, he had taken, against his inclinations, to passively observing what she did. This was all felt with the acuteness of torture. It pained Hitomi not to confide in him, to open her mind to his clever observations and suggestions, but she could see no other way of operating without imposing on him.

"Ahem," coughed the mole man significantly.

Hitomi forced herself to focus on the present.

"Tell me, what does 'H. R. H.' mean?" she asked composedly, as if her mind hadn't wandered at all.

"It's an acronym for 'His Royal Highness,'" replied the mole man, sounding bored. "They must think they're being clever."

"And can we be sure that 'Col. R— O—' stands for Colonel Reagan Ohara?"

"We will never be sure, but yours is a good chance," he said.

"The person to whom the letter is addressed...this 'Lord F—'...I think I might know him," said Hitomi, frowning in thought.

A short pause ensued in which Hitomi reread the notice several times. She must not miss a single bit of information in this rare opportunity of intercepting a message from the King himself.

"What is happening in Sadar that requires military intervention?" asked Hitomi at length. "It must be very serious."

"Who knows?" said the mole man. "It could be a response to all those demon attacks."

"The attacks up north would warrant inquiry, yes," said Hitomi thoughtfully, "but surely a military response is going too far? If anything, the disturbances must increase with all those soldiers disrupting the civilians."

"I can only offer you my humble speculations, Miss."

"Anyway," said Hitomi, shaking her head dismissively, "this letter indicates that Colonel Reagan's regiment is stationed in Sadar, am I right?"

"They're more likely in some remote area near the city."

Hitomi sighed.

"That could be anywhere," she complained.

"Indeed," said the mole man indifferently. "Too bad for your cousin."

That hit a nerve – Hitomi recalled her initiative.

"Well, it's as good a start as any," she announced, rising from her seat. "Let's go to Sadar, then. If we don't find the regiment in the city, we can at least try to gather some information."

"What's this – am I going as well?"

"Yes, of course," she said briskly. "You're my informant, and if something goes wrong, I want you to take responsibility."

"How convincing," he grumbled. "That reminds me – how am I being paid?"

"Pardon?"

"My payment," he insisted. "Surely you didn't think this was volunteer work?"

"You haven't finished your job yet," Hitomi corrected him, "and I will certainly not pay for a service that is only half finished."

"You wanted information on Colonel Reagan, did you not?" he cried. "Not half the thieves in Palas combined could have got hold of such a valuable note!"

"Your information is incomplete."

"WHAT?!"

"I'm tired of this discussion," concluded Hitomi. "We should leave for Sadar tomorrow, at first light."

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The dark haired boy sat crouched against the base of a ruined tower and wept bitterly, whispering:

"My fault... all my fault..."

He pressed his face into his knees, both hands on the back of his head—a heart wrenching image of shame. What agony he felt! Hitomi could feel it, too, even though she watched him from a great distance. His little shoulders convulsed with each sob, perfectly alone in his despair.

"Just like the others... all my fault..."

Or was he alone?

A small patch of grass appeared beneath his bare feet. With amazement, Hitomi saw each individual blade lengthen upwards, slowly, but at an unnatural rate which allowed its growth to be fully visible. The blades of grass entwined themselves intimately around the boy's ankles first, and then they continued their course outwards, forming a kind of arm that was level with the boy's head. This arm extended towards its friend's hidden face unhesitatingly, yet with a tenderness developed through years of the constant caring and devotion of this singular person. Five thin, green fingers slipped through the boy's arms and proceeded to wipe the tears from his face.

"My fault..."

Then, the grass spoke.

Why did you come here?

The boy did not answer, though he ceased his crying.

Why did you cut me out? What have you done?

Grudgingly, the boy lifted his head. His eyes were red—could it have been from the crying, or were those scarlet tones a natural colouring? Hitomi couldn't tell. They did seem to glow with an unusual energy, but Hitomi didn't understand what it meant. She continued to watch him with captivated interest.

Answer me. You are no feeble being.

Just then, with an expression at once spiteful and full of childish temper, the boy answered his guardian in a clearer tone:

"Leave me."

Hitomi heard this answer with some surprise—no high-pitched, childlike voice issued from his mouth. Instead, she heard him speak with the deep, rough tones of a grown man. Not only that, this man spoke with a tone of fierce command. It was a disturbing spectacle.

"LEAVE ME," he warned again.

Hitomi began to wonder at this daring species of plant which dared to test this boy or man's fury. Instead of words of comfort, it offered only harsh scrutiny. Like the boy himself, its soft and harmless exterior was no indicator of the spirit within.

Suddenly, the grass exploded away from the boy; for a moment, it writhed away from him in several agonized clusters. In the next moment, the grass stretched upward to incredible lengths and grouped together to form one giant, twisting column. It engulfed the boy's whole body in one sudden, strangling motion. Hitomi bore witness to all this with horror. Without thinking, she cried out:

"STOP!"

Everything halted at once. Hitomi had not expected that. A tense silence filled the air; the presence of an intruder was detected.

For a single moment, the great mass of plant had frozen in its murderous stance. Then, it withered away into dust. Behind it, the looming tower, too, faded into nothingness. Time had frozen all in its alarm, and now, mortified by the disturbance, dissolved these substances from existence. All that remained was the boy, dark-haired and suddenly as tall as Hitomi. He stared at her with pure hatred.

"Kanzaki Hitomi," said a cold, high-pitched, disembodied voice.

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In the middle of the night, Hitomi jerked awake, feeling an acute pain against her neck. Her small frame was seized with terror, and at first she dared not move. She let a few moments of silence pass, to ensure that she was alone in the darkness of her room. When thus reassured, she carefully pushed herself into a sitting position.

Hitomi was sore all over—especially the exterior of her throat, which felt as if someone had pressed a hot coal against it. Trying to ignore this, she pulled her covers away, only to realize that she was drenched in cold sweat.

Hitomi rose from her bed with a growing sense of dread. Why was she so frightened? She thought about it for a moment, but immediately shook herself for being so silly. Calmly, steadily, Hitomi began to wash and dress.

It was a dream of no consequence, and she had better not pay too much attention to it—this was what her reason had told her. And yet, not all the logic in the world would have comforted her. Hitomi knew she would find no further rest that night, because, for the second time in her dreams, Hitomi had heard the icy voice of Lord Faunus.

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"Be careful, Ms. Kanzaki."

"You too, Mr. Susumu," said Hitomi. "Here take this – it contains instructions on how to retrieve the funds that we discussed."

"I am sure I will not need it," said Amano stubbornly.

"Well, it is yours to use in whatever way suits you," said Hitomi. "I refuse to claim any more of it."

"Millerna Varene intended that money for you, Ms. Kanzaki," he insisted. "I feel uneasy about using it for myself."

Hitomi gave Amano a half-smile. She held her hand out to him amiably, and he held it tightly.

"I have written to Dryden, and he extends his services to you should ever you need them," she said, half-stepping into the carriage. "Farewell."

Amano gallantly kissed her hand before nodding curtly to the driver, the mole man, and waving them both off. Once out of sight of the inn, Hitomi poked her head out of the carriage window.

"How far can we take this carriage without anyone noticing?" she asked, but the mole man furiously waved at her to be quiet, as he was high on alert for eavesdroppers.

The carriage-ride was short, as it was only needed to reach the harbour, Rampant Port. Once there, the mole man quickly parked the carriage next to a row of similar vehicles. He then motioned for Hitomi to follow him to the nearest airship, which they boarded without trouble.

So far, everything had gone smoothly and Hitomi was growing quite confident. At this rate, it seemed that they would find Colonel Reagan's regiment in no time. This attitude did not sit well with the mole man, who, in a moment of paranoia, thought he recognised one of the passengers and believed they were being followed. No sooner than when the mole man pointed this out, however, did the passenger in question mysteriously vanish. Hitomi's confidence in their journey similarly disappeared, but that was due to the instability of her guide.

"I know I've seen him before," grumbled the mole man in ill-humour. "And if I haven't, I certainly recognized that look he was giving us. Best watch your purse tonight, little lady."

"I'll be doing so whether or not we're being followed," said Hitomi, looking at him pointedly.

Just then, a chorus of commands were heard from the crew, announcing that the ship was about to take off. Soon enough, Hitomi felt the tremors of the energist within the ship's engine. Passengers were shepherded into their respective cabins, and reminded to keep out of the way of the crew. The ground swayed a little, trembling all the time, and the take off was very gradual. It wasn't until Hitomi peered through the window of their cabin that she realized they were airborne.

"Is this the little lady's first time on an airship?" asked the mole man, as she resumed her seat on a small stool.

"You ought to know that it is not," replied Hitomi. "You were the very coachman who met me at Rampant Port when I first came to Palas."

"Ah yes, of course. Where did you come from before that?"

"A small village up north near the Frontier Zone Mountains," she said.

"One of the many," remarked the mole man, nodding. "Did you move to Palas to escape the demon threat?"

"No," replied Hitomi, frowning. "I had never heard of it until I came to Palas, actually. I had written to my mother about it once, but we dismissed the rumours as superstition."

"Ah, a pity," he said, with a dramatic sigh.

"Why is that?" asked Hitomi defensively. "You don't really think they're true?"

The mole man would not expand on the subject, however, and Hitomi didn't keep him company for long after that. Eventually, she left to take a walk around.

The ship was a small trading vessel with a pentagonal infrastructure. Passengers were prohibited from the cargo bay and the controls room, where the steering took place, but were otherwise free to explore the ship at their leisure. At first, Hitomi sought the galley for some water, but she soon got lost. It was an embarrassing predicament, as the ship was so small, and this kept her from asking for directions.

After wandering for some time, Hitomi found herself in the open air of a small, private deck. She leaned casually against the protective railing, taking comfort in the strong wind that tugged at her hair and dress. Directly below the ship was a downsized, aerial view of Palas. It pleased Hitomi how she could still recognize parts of it at that distance. With rising enthusiasm, she ran to the other side of the deck, where the northeast Chatal Mountains were visible, and gazed at them with a childlike eagerness.

"A spectacular view, isn't it?"

Hitomi jumped at the proximity of the voice.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" she exclaimed. "I didn't mean to intrude..."

Then, Hitomi recognized the speaker.

She was an elegantly dressed woman, with long blond hair and delicate facial features. Her rich garments were instantly familiar, but Hitomi still had to look twice to before she properly identified the woman as Millerna Varene.

The former Astaurian princess looked, at best, like a disturbingly skeletal version of her former self. Her face was startlingly thin; her once rosy complexion had turned sickly pale; her golden hair was frayed and unkempt. The only thing unchanged was her royal blue eyes, which sparkled with the same youthful energy as always, but everything else had undergone a dramatic change.

"Ms. Kanzaki Hitomi, wasn't it?" prompted Millerna. "Don't apologize. This space is not mine, so you ought to be excusing me. It's nice to see you again. How is your inn?"

"It's doing well, thank you," Hitomi lied. "How is your Ladyship?"

"Millerna, please," she corrected. "I have been very ill since we last met, as you can see. Luckily, I consulted a physician just in time, and am well on my way to recovery—or so I'm told."

"I see," replied Hitomi, "and what brings you on this ship, M-Millerna?"

At this stutter, Millerna laughed. It was kindly meant, but done a little condescendingly – as one can't help but laugh at a child stumbling, or the unrestrained snore of an adult.

"I am paying a visit to an old acquaintance in Sadar," Millerna continued. "And you, Hitomi?"

She put a marked emphasis on her first name, but Hitomi ignored it.

"I also have some business in Sadar," she replied simply.

"I see."

They stood there together for some moments and fell into silence. Part of Hitomi wanted to ask what Millerna thought of the supposed demon threat. She wasn't sure if such a question might seem too forward, given the brevity of their acquaintance, but Hitomi longed for some insight into the issue. She lost her chance, however, when Millerna's attention was caught by something in the sky.

"Hitomi," she said suddenly. "Do you see that?"

Millerna was looking to the ship's rear in the direction of the Chatal Mountains. Hitomi, who had a sharp eye, instantly saw what she meant. Hovering above one of the mountains was a crooked, dark line. It might have been a jagged, grey cloud if the rest of the sky wasn't perfectly clear. Upon closer inspection, they realized that the 'line' was in fact a cluster of tiny, dark spots. They were moving very quickly.

"What is it?" Hitomi asked absently.

Neither of them took their eyes off the shadow-like object for an instant. It passed over the mountain and began to descend down towards the city, taking the shape of a large arrowhead. Halfway down, it suddenly dispersed into a hundred parts and vanished. The shadow had gone as mysteriously as it had come.

Hitomi and Millerna stood struck. They both searched the scene carefully, but saw no trace of the darkness left. When it was clear that the shadow was gone, Millerna turned to Hitomi with a grave expression on her face.

"Hitomi," she said quietly, "have you heard of the controversy surrounding demon-hunting?"

This surprised Hitomi, since it was the very question lingering in her mind moments before.

"I have," replied Hitomi. "Why do you ask?"

Millerna turned her face to the side, frowning in thought. She was debating how much she ought to tell Hitomi – or so Hitomi deduced from the searching looks that Millerna gave her now and then. At length, Millerna spoke again.

"I don't know much about the practise itself – there are few who do – but what I do know is that the preconceptions about it in Palas are the worst."

"What do you mean?" asked Hitomi.

"Well, most city-dwellers have fallen under the belief that 'demons' are more or less living things with supernatural powers. Within this belief emerged another assumption that these powers can be stolen, so to speak, if the demon in question is slain or defeated."

"I have heard something to that effect," agreed Hitomi.

"I must advise you, then, to put it out of your head," said Millerna, sternly. "It is all myth. I once encountered a wolf clan living in the outskirts of Fanelia itself, who have told me otherwise."

"Fanelia?" echoed Hitomi. "I have never heard of it."

"It was a small country of ancient origin, destroyed a few years ago," said Millerna, solemnly. "Supposedly it was once the centre of a great empire, and, although Fanelia diminished with time, it survived the longest because of its extensive knowledge of the spiritual realm. Now, the wolf clan that I encountered lived on the frontier of this country, in a village called Arzas. I learned a great deal from those wolf men. Looking back, I wonder why they didn't kill me for fear of leaking their country's secrets."

Yet again, Millerna surprised Hitomi with her experience and history. Who would have thought that such a refined-looking woman would engage in the company of wolves that might kill her at any instant?

"Over the years, I have forgotten much of what I was told," continued Millerna, "but I do remember this: the only way for a demon – or spirit, rather – to enter our world is to be summoned forth by a human."

Here, Millerna paused and looked at Hitomi expectantly.

"I don't understand," said Hitomi. "Why is that important?"

But Millerna only shook her head at herself, saying that she had said too much. She excused herself and quickly took her leave, before Hitomi could say another word. Hitomi was left to stand on the balcony, windswept and dry-eyed, thinking deeply about what had just passed.

Robo's Note:

Hi everyone, thanks for reading chapter 13! I apologize for this latest lapse between chapters, and I really appreciate everyone keeping up with this story this far. School is a pretty big impediment right now, but I've still been able to write fragments of chapters between major assignments. After all, it keeps me happy.

Special thanks to Missing White Wings 15 for beta reading as usual, and to Catherine and abbys for the reviews that I couldn't reply to. :) To the other wonderful reviewers and readers following story alerts - love, love, love!