Chapter Thirteen

The Stone's Horrible Secret

A maintained, high-pitched ring was all Shin-ju could hear while he, Mikieru, and Napolde stood their ground against the approaching Occultists. Severe exhaustion made him dizzy, and his throat was painfully dry and sticky. His body screamed at him to lie down and rest, but he bit back the impulse to give up. There was no rest to be had until he and his friends were safe.

Through half-closed eyes, he saw the Occultists approach them from all directions. At first, they took slow, cautious steps. Shin-ju's eyelids drooped for a moment, engulfing the boy in a tempting blackness, but he immediately opened them again—to the sight of charging Occultists. He painfully shifted into a fighting stance, only to have his fatigued eyes close again—he wobbled on his heels as he forced them open one more time.

This time, he saw that the Occultists had stopped charging. Instead, they were cautiously standing their ground, eyes of the multitude alternately moving to the hillsides around them and the arrows that were embedded in the ground in front of them.

Arrows? Shin-ju thought, glancing at Mikieru. The Cleric was looking around the Clock Tower square, a hint of a smile on his face.

Shin-ju could not hear a thing, but he knew Napolde and Jared were showing signs and gestures of relief. It wasn't until the boy looked around him that he realized the reason for their reprieve.

On the hillsides that crept over the walls bounding three sides of the Clock Tower square, several Payon Knights stood with arrows pulled into their longbows, each in deadly aim at an Occultist. Other Payon Knights, fully-armored and Katanas in hand, were descending the slopes and running to rally around the four friends. Powerful falcons were circling the air over the Occultists, ready to dive in and rake their razor-sharp talons through the mob at the mere signal of their masters.

Shin-ju did a quick head-count and realized there were almost one hundred Payon Knights scattered on three sides of the Clock Tower square.

Mr. Akira, the boy realized, exhaling heartily. They made it!

•••

Akira nodded in satisfaction, knowing that their gamble had paid off. He knew that Al de Baran would be impenetrable from the front, so he and his officers planned to break formation before reaching the Machine City's foothills and approach it from behind. They had successfully scaled the treacherous rock hills on the Clock Tower's three sides and now had the advantage of higher ground over the Occultists.

The Shousa stood on a rock on the square's rear hillside, giving himself a commanding view of the battlefield. His valiant officers stood beside him, ready to deliver any of his orders to the frontlines. His swordsmen stood in a staggered line behind the four friends below him, and his archers were perched perfectly on the crests of their hills. The medical team stood at the ready, Yoriko among them.

Below, Mikieru spotted Akira's tall armored frame. From the distance, he gave the Shousa a nod of gratitude.

Akira nodded the nod, but he immediately set his eyes back on the battlefield. Despite their skill and terrain advantage, they were still outnumbered thirty-to-one by the Occultists and traitorous Payon Knights. This was going to be a difficult battle.

" Stand fast, " Akira told his officers in firm Payonese. " The Cleric will give his ultimatum, and we will fight if the Occultists refuse. "

•••

"Garrione is dead," Mikieru shouted at the Occultists. "His misguided revolution is over. I offer you peace. Enough blood has been shed on his behalf. This must end. I ask you all, very respectfully, to lay down your weapons and stand down."

Shin-ju, Jared, and Napolde waited for the Occultists to give their response.

Seven burly Occultists, who used to be Garrione's bodyguards, defiantly raised their weapons in answer. "Justice!" they yelled. "Justice!"

"Justice!" the other Occultists yelled in chorus, spurred by their superiors' audacity. "Justice!"

Jared shook his head at the Occultists' refusal. "I am so starting to hate that word," the Merchant muttered.

At that moment, all the soldiers on both sides raised their weapons and prepared for the unavoidable battle.

•••

Napolde's gaze shot skyward.

Mikieru, being familiar with the subtle sensation that came with the movement of elemental mana, noticed it as well. He and the Elf had felt an out-of-place shift in the mana around the Clock Tower square. Cautiously the Cleric took steps back towards his friends, all the while scanning the plaza for the cause of the shift.

The calm in his face contrasted sharply with the look of deep fear that came over Napolde's visage as the shift came again, this time with enough strength to cause a change in the winds as well. The mana movement was strong enough for Mikieru to ascertain its cause—it was the telltale mana compressions that came with the opening of a Warp Portal.

Mikieru's mouth tightened as he waited for the third mana shift—it would allow him to pinpoint the exact location of the portal. When it came, a miniature vortex of wind spiralled down from the atmosphere and centered into the middle of the Clock Tower square—directly between the Occultists and Akira's platoon. It was enough to stop the startled Occultists in their tracks.

Mystified, Akira watched as the strange interruption unfolded in the plaza below him. His officers glanced at him cautiously, intently waiting for any orders to be issued by the Shousa.

•••

"Napolde?" Jared asked, noticing the Elf's fearful countenance. "What's wrong?"

Napolde's lips were quivering as she muttered her response. "Someone is… coming."

"Someone? Who?"

"Someone… like you…"

Stupefied, Jared listened as Napolde continued:

"It is another Keeper. I feel his presence… and the presence of the one he keeps…"

•••

Mikieru squinted as the gathering malevolent energies converged in the middle of the Clock Tower square. Bolts of crackling energy began to shoot from the vortex's core, intensifying steadily until a black void began to open around it.

Shin-ju couldn't believe his eyes. It was almost as if the very fabric of reality had been peeled back to reveal a dark hole, where time and space had no hold over physical existence. He apprehensively watched as a man, clothed in a long black Payonese robe and a large sakkat, stepped out of the void and onto the cobblestones of the Clock Tower square.

All eyes were fixed on the strange newcomer, even as the Warp Portal began to close and the winds began to die down. When silence finally prevailed over the square, the man's wrinkled hands reached up to remove the sakkat from his eyes.

Jared shook his head dismally. All this time, he did not want to think that the Taishou had betrayed them to Garrione and the Occultists. He knew his worst fears had come true when the man lowered the sakkat and revealed his face to everyone in the plaza.

Many of the Occultists grinned in recognition of the man. They knew that this man was instrumental in setting Garrione's plan into motion, and now they were sure he would succeed where the Knight-Mage had failed.

The Taishou's face had an utter lack of expression as he scanned the three thousand that stood at his right side and on the one hundred that stood on his left. When his eyes fell upon Garrione's fallen body behind Mikieru and his friends, however, a noticeable frown came over his countenance.

"Garrione," the old warrior intoned. "I had feared my plan was doomed from the start…"

The Taishou then rose to Mikieru's face. The Cleric's tall stature and commanding position in front of his friends immediately told him that if he had any business with Jared Wycrow, he would have to speak to this Priest first.

"I am here for Wycrow's Stone," the Taishou said quietly.

Before Mikieru could answer, Jared's voice shot forward.

"Straight to the point, huh?" the Merchant yelled angrily. "Don't waste your breath, Taishou. We know what you want and you won't be getting it. We've already gone through so much to protect it."

The Taishou listened to Jared's outburst, then shook his head.

"Do you even realize why you protect it?" the warrior asked.

Jared's expression changed from that of anger into one of surprise. Grimly, he looked down and patted his jacket where the Stone was hidden. As convinced as he was of the Stone's importance, somehow he could not put the reason behind his conviction into words…

"Explain yourself, Taishou," Mikieru interjected for the Merchant.

The Taishou raised a disinterested glance at the Cleric. "You wish the exposition, Priest?" the warrior replied. "Very well. I suppose you deserve as much, that you have sacrificed so much to go this far to protect your precious treasure.

"As you might know, I am in possession of a Stone quite similar to Wycrow's. You have heard the legends, yes? These Stones were the charge of the ancient Alchemist guild, the Goldraiders. These Stones supposedly held the powers of the fabled 'Philosopher's Stone,' blessed with the capacity of turning ordinary lead into gold.

"Do not think I seek the Stone for that reason, Priest. I am beyond the primal desire for wealth. I instead seek the Stone's true powers."

"True powers," Mikieru repeated.

"Yes," the Taishou replied, closing his eyes as though he was very tired. "I have studied extensively the activities of the Goldraiders and their Elven Druid friends—from the moment of their founding eight hundred years ago, through the sensational mad rush that accompanied rumors of the Stone's finding, up until the disrepute that caused their disbanding decades ago. All the chronicles and all the writings and all the rumors had led me to one conclusion…

"…that there was, in fact, more than one of these Stones in existence."

Napolde huddled close to Jared when she heard this. Never had she felt more afraid than now—people outside of the Goldraiders and Elven Druid Rites knew of the Stones!

"You have a Stone, as well?" Mikieru ventured.

The Taishou nodded, his eyes still closed. "Payon's Shogun Family, the Yamagachis, first arrived in Midgard from our mother continent Khan 250 years ago. With them, they brought a strange three-faced Stone that had been in their family's possession for over a millennium. Found in the mountains by an ancestor, it was found to be utterly indestructible, whether by force or fire. It did not seem to serve a purpose, but the Yamagachis deemed that it should be kept until its use could be determined.

"After all those centuries of neglect, the task of keeping it has fallen to me, the Taishou.

"I studied the Stone, as well. That was how I drew my conclusions between the Goldraiders' quest for the Philosopher's Stone and this one Stone. I was convinced that another Stone existed besides the one in my possession, and I was secretly determined to find them all before I died. I am growing old and feeble, as you can see, so you can only imagine my excitement when word of Wycrow's Stone reached my ear mere weeks ago.

"Being based in Payon, I was powerless to verify whether the rumors were true. That was when I consorted with the fallen Knight Garrione… he and his Old Occultists were based in Al de Baran and would have been perfect for the task of recovering the Stone for me—or at least, I was convinced of such at first."

"You consorted… with such as he and these?" Mikieru asked, astonished. "You, the second-most honored person in Payon, consorted with a fallen Knight and his band of mercenaries?"

The Taishou was quiet for a moment. "Hope drives man to the limits of his capabilities, yes?"

Mikieru's visage tightened as the Taishou opened his eyes.

"Old age will make you realize that despair does the exact same, Priest… oftentimes, to extents much further than hope can muster."

Jared held Napolde close, his eyes still defiantly fixed on the Taishou as the old warrior resumed his rationalizations.

"Garrione sought a war of vengeance against Prontera for the Kingdom's war crimes during the Frontier War. He had the zeal, but he lacked the manpower. At most he mustered only a few hundred mercenaries and hooligans, and as such, he was not considered a threat by the Kingdom. Tristan and his Advisers downplayed the Occultists' activities for the past two years… Garrione and I both knew that if there ever were a time for the Knight-Mage to exact his revenge, it would be now, when the Kingdom was weak and unprepared.

"We agreed on a deal… I was to provide him with enough manpower and weaponry to overrun Al de Baran and turn it into his stronghold. If he succeeded, he would have stood a good chance into getting the revenge he sought from the Kingdom…"

The Taishou sighed. "I tire of this conversation, knowing that our grand scheme has not fallen into place…"

"I have one more question," Mikieru ventured. "Am I to understand that it was you who forged Garrione's magical sword and gave it to him?"

The great warrior sniffed audibly at this question, but did not answer right away.

"Payonese swordsmithing may be considered Midgard's best, but Sinjustice was not Oriental in nature. It was immense, two-edged, and black. Almost… Old Nordic… in appearance."

The Taishou smiled slightly at the Cleric's elucidation. "I am beginning to see how you were able to defeat Garrione, Priest," he drawled. "I am certain that if Garrione had half your intelligence, he would have beaten you soundly, but he had never shown me that sort of wit in our dealings.

"Not I, Priest. It was not I who gave him the sword. Who it was does not concern you."

Shin-ju was stunned when he heard this. No way… he thought. There's another one?

"But you admit that there is another… besides you and Garrione… privy to this scheme. I will know his name, please."

"I cannot tell you…"

"Tell me, Taishou. Now."

"As I said, Priest, I cannot tell you… the one's name cannot be pronounced by the Human tongue."

The Cleric's eyes widened. "What?" he whispered in shock.

"Too much I have said in this exchange," the Taishou drawled loudly, a hint of anger in his voice. "Now is the time to make the choice. I desire Wycrow's Stone, Priest. Give it to me, and I will take my leave of you forever."

"Forget it," Jared yelled. "Take your three thousand and try to take it. I won't hand it over."

"We will not surrender it, Taishou," Mikieru finished. "We will fight against you and your forces to protect it."

The Taishou was unimpressed. "My three thousand?" he asked.

Mikieru and his friends wondered what the Taishou meant.

"Do not think that I am here to muster these fools to victory over you and yours, Priest. They are worth no more than a gnat's spit."

This statement was enough to wipe the smug grins off the Occultists' faces.

"I came here with the intention of taking the Stone, and nothing else. What you plan to do with this army of misguided beasts is of no concern to me."

What is this? Mikieru thought, bewildered by the Taishou's actions. He is alone in demanding for the Stone… and now he provokes the Occultists into rage?

Shin-ju looked around in puzzlement. Already, many Occultists had their weapons raised menacingly—and looked as though they were to charge towards the Taishou instead.

The Taishou turned his eyes to the side, as if noticing the anger rising in the Occultist mob behind him. "Must I be stopped at every turn?" the warrior muttered, reaching into the folds of his coat. "I must admit I had wanted the opportunity to see if all my conclusions were correct, but I do wish it did not have to come to this."

The Taishou drew out a smooth, three-faced purple stone.

"Power over death…" the Taishou whispered.

•••

Immediately, Mikieru felt overwhelming waves of Undead energies emanating from the Taishou. The Cleric instantly leaped backwards, high up in the air, and landed in front of his friends.

This aura… an alarmed Mikieru thought. It is terrible!

"What's going on, Mike?" Jared asked loudly.

"Prepare yourselves!" the Cleric shouted. "I do not know what the Taishou is doing, but I sense a deluge of evil coming our way!"

•••

The Taishou began mumbling an incantation in a heavily accented language that had been long forgotten from the face of Midgard. The warrior did not stop in his incantations even as many of the Occultists lunged towards him from behind, weapons drawn.

At the last instant, rows of runes flashed to life on the faces of the Taishou's Stone—and a mad smile of satisfaction came to the warrior's face.

•••

Screams of terror echoed over the Clock Tower square in the moments that followed—a sudden, total darkness and a deathly chill had enveloped Al de Baran and the surrounding mountainsides. Mikieru and his friends looked around with eyes wide open, but they could not see anything!

•••

For a stunned moment, Akira wondered whether he had gone blind. He realized it wasn't the case when he looked towards the horizon from his perch atop the hill ridge. He could see a thin band of sunlight surrounding the horizon on all sides, but something seemed to extinguish all light for dozens of miles around the Clock Tower square.

The cold, dark emptiness that came before the light? Akira thought, shocked. The legend of the One Who Waits… no, it cannot be true!

•••

This is unreal! Mikieru thought madly. Total darkness in an instant… what is this we face?

Behind him, Shin-ju was disoriented by the darkness. Jared looked around, clutching a fearful Napolde close to him. None of them knew what was going on.

In front of him, Mikieru heard what he thought were sounds of bladed weapons cleaving flesh. The slashes were accompanied with deathcries—apparently from the Occultists—but Mikieru could not see what was happening.

The Cleric immediately closed his eyes and clasped his hands in front of his chest. Channeling his mana to his eyes, he opened them after uttering a short Latin incantation and whispered:

"RUWACH!"

Shin-ju was down on one knee when he heard Mikieru's utterance. With eyes staring straight ahead, he turned his head towards the sound of the Cleric's voice. "Is that you, Senpai?" he asked.

•••

Meanwhile, Mikieru's field of vision was slowly coming to light. Tch, the Cleric thought, noticing that his surroundings were not being revealed to him quickly enough. Even my Ruwach cannot dispel this darkness in speed… but I only need to see the face of the Taishou…

After what seemed to be several moments for the Cleric, his enhanced vision spell began to reveal the square's cobblestone pavement.

Then the bloodied, mutilated bodies of Occultists came into view, surrounding what seemed to be a very large hooded figure wearing a tattered cloak.

A Wraith? Mikieru asked himself, recognizing the form of a certain powerful Undead monster he had once read about. No, it seems much… too large…

Ruwach seemed to weaken the more Mikieru trained his eyes on the creature. His field of vision darkened slightly before revealing the hooded figure again—only this time, it seemed to have turned slightly towards Mikieru's direction.

Ruwach weakened again, and the Cleric strained to see the creature one more time.

•••

A horrific skull-face flashed before Mikieru's eyes, with bloodshot eyes fixed murderously on his own!

•••

Mikieru gasped and stepped backward, almost losing his balance.

"Senpai?" Shin-ju called, reaching out for Mikieru.

The Cleric was breathing heavily as he looked up again, his Ruwach spell still in effect. The creature was still a good distance away—it had not approached Mikieru at all, yet the skull-face that greeted Mikieru seemed to have flashed right before the stunned Cleric.

Such power, Mikieru swallowed, realizing that his natural Priestly immunity to Undead energies was staggered by the creature's sheer power. This is no ordinary Undead!

"I cannot match this," Mikieru whispered, closing his painful eyes for a moment.

•••

Midgard.

Mikieru eyes shot open.

Much has changed.

The Cleric looked around madly. Someone was speaking to him, but the voice seemed to ring in his head… and it spoke to him in Latin.

Humans have lived outside my threads for one hundred centuries.

Mikieru stopped, then looked straight ahead—the creature seemed to be looking straight into his eyes.

I will not allow this to persist. Order will be restored.

The Cleric's mouth tightened as he held the monster's stare, knowing that this conversation was only meant to be held between it and he.

You, who champion the cause of disorder… you will be the next to fall.

Then Mikieru decided to talk back.

Who are you? Mikieru thought in Latin.

A hissing sound echoed in Mikieru's mind for several moments before he received a reply.

•••

I am Urd.

•••

End of Chapter Thirteen