In stories, you should always follow the action. While shenanigans on Francis' ship may be funny, following the action here gives me a chance to introduce many other characters

New characters: Heracles (Greece), Gupta (Egypt), Margaux (Belgium), Eduard (Estonia), James (Australia), Elizaveta (Hungary), Feliks (Poland), Lien (Vietnam), Peter (Sealand), Raivia (Latvia), Toris (Lithuania), André (Cuba), Fen (Taiwan), Antonio (Spain)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN


Across the Aiomil Sea, in the cold country of Talyin, in a run-down town, a man crouched behind a decrepit old house. A gun was held in his hands. His hair was dark brown and thick, waving slightly in a cool gust of air. He wore a scuffed, military-esque uniform, and his eyes were narrowed slightly. Another man was crouched next to him, his eyes golden and cat-like, knives held between his slim fingers.

The brown-haired man saw something as he peered around the house and nodded slightly to himself. He gestured with his fingers and the man with the knives darted out from behind the house. He threw one and a heavyset man opposite their position gurgled as it thudded into his throat and fell back with a thud onto the ground. The man rolled and halted behind another building as a spray of gunfire hit where he'd been, glancing back at the brown-haired man, whose expression was approving.

"Heracles—!"

The call came from a woman with blonde hair, skidding to a stop alongside him. She gasped a bit for breath. He looked at her worriedly. "Margaux?" he questioned.

"Eduard's been hit," she said, heaving for breath. "And more are coming. We should pull back to base."

"Eduard?"

"Just in the shoulder," she assured at his alarmed glance. "But they've got reinforcements and we're out here alone."

"Alright." Heracles looked over at the man with gold eyes, jabbing with his fingers, indicating the land beyond the village. He got a nod and then the man was off, dodging around buildings. Heracles straightened and followed him, slowing whenever Margaux had to stop for breath, ceaselessly scanning their surroundings. He noticed that she was favouring her side. "Were you shot?"

"Bruise—might be crack in my ribs," she gasped. "Grabbed hold of me. Eduard got hurt helping me."

"Where is he?"

"Back at base—James and Elizaveta have taken him back." Heracles nodded and pulled her down abruptly behind a dumpster. Gunshots pattered off the other side and he shifted upwards quickly, shooting once, twice, and there was a muffled thump. The attacker taken care of, they continued on.

Their boots crunched over snow the further they got out of the town and the closer to the wilderness. Trees grew up raggedly, many of them shorn by bullets and other weapons. Heracles slipped among these, looked over his shoulder to assure of no followers. Margaux took the lead as he followed behind, clearing their tracks as they went, his eyes roving and keen.

Eventually, they came to a pile of snow. Heracles leant down and found an iron hoop, pulled up and a hatch opened. He indicated she should go down the stairs. She did, with visible effort (clutching at the wall) and he followed, letting it close behind him.

"Feliks," he called when they'd reached the bottom step. A blond man came hurrying up, letting out a 'tsk' as he saw Margaux.

"Not, like, the best of days," he commented wryly. He led her over to where another blond with glasses was getting his shoulder poked and prodded at by a dark-haired woman with a long ponytail. Heracles stood where he was for a moment before sinking onto the bottom step. He flattened his hands together and pressed his chin against the tips of his fingers with a heavy sigh.

"Heracles. Eat." The golden-eyed man handed him a wrapped package. He had seemed to melt out of thin air.

"Did everyone else, Gupta?" Heracles replied, glancing up at his second-in-command.

"Does it matter? Eat." It was pushed into his hands and Gupta stared him down sternly until he opened it reluctantly. "You will rest tonight. No more dozing off during strategy meetings."

Heracles' lips twitched up slightly at the corners and he nodded his head. Gupta walked away to see to everyone else, and some of the cats Heracles had rescued from Urlan came slinking up and rubbing against his legs. He scratched one behind the ears gently, eliciting purrs. As he did, he heard a soft thump from up the stairs, on the hatch. He glanced up and rose to his feet, walking up the steps quietly, standing below the hatch and listening.

Tap-tip-tap-tap.

He relaxed and reached up, pushing it up. The man outside took a step back. "Kiku," Heracles said, "you're here. Come down." The small, dark-haired man nodded and walked down the steps. His arms were heaped with packages and bags, which Heracles took from him. "Thank you."

"It's nothing," replied Kiku. Their eyes locked for a moment before he glanced to the side, unused to such scrutiny.

"You've brought medicine and bandages," Heracles murmured. "We were running low."

"I noticed last time…there's food, too."

"You are being certain to be careful, right? If Ivan finds out—" Kiku shook his head slightly, ending his words before he finished voicing them.

"I am being careful. Don't worry about me." He flinched with surprise as Heracles leaned over, nose pressing into his hair briefly before he kissed the side of his head. Kiku glanced up at the small, quiet smile on the man's face, and then quickly down at his feet, embarrassed.

"I will worry," said Heracles simply. He carried the packages over to the dark-haired woman with the ponytail. "Lien, more medicine." She looked up, nodded approvingly, and took it from him. Eduard's lips twisted into a reassuring, though pained, smile when Heracles gave him a worried glance.

"This is nothing," he assured. Margaux winced where she was sitting next to him, getting her midsection wrapped up by Feliks, who was clucking his tongue.

"You're being too rough!" she complained.

"You're, like, a man. You can take it," scoffed Feliks. He looked up at Heracles with a slightly cross expression. "Also, leader, I've got, like, a bone to pick with you."

"Later," Heracles implored. Feliks nodded after a moment, grudgingly.

He made his way over to a boy sitting on his own, scribbling something in a thick journal with sheets of paper sticking out of it here and there. He was shaking slightly (ceaselessly) as he wrote, though not out of any control of his own. "Raivis, how is it coming?" Heracles asked him, ignoring the jump his sudden words got.

"G-good," he said. His smile wavered. "Someday everyone will read this—the history of Talyin and the Resistance." A younger boy was sitting next to him, swinging his legs.

"I'm helping!" he said, proudly.

"Y-yes, Peter has a very good memory." The boy seemed smug at Raivis' praise, chest swelling. They'd rescued Peter from the village when his parents were trying to escape from being captured. He seemed to be handling his parents' absence very well, and having him around seemed to quell Raivis' shakes somewhat—he was harmless while somehow managing to be a bolstering, overconfident presence.

"I hope Bavonia sends people soon," Peter said absentmindedly, adjusting his cap.

Raivis bit his lip. "I-I'm sure they will," he told him with a smile. Heracles turned away wordlessly and Kiku followed after him as he walked through a small tunnel to the storage room, where they kept the food.

"Heracles," he began, quietly.

The man turned his head slightly after he'd set down the parcels, flashed a half-hearted smile. "It's been two weeks since Toris went to find that man—your Wang Yao, and was captured by Ivan. Bavonia has still hasn't come, and…I wonder how long we can hold out." He blinked slightly. "Their spirits are falling—how would we fight demons without any magic of our own?"

"Yao can be trusted," Kiku said to him, feeling a familiar rush of guilt when he thought of his former 'partner'. He'd thought Yao too weak at the time, always trying to make peace with other hunters, to get them all to work with one another and split things evenly. So he'd done an inexcusable thing to prove the world couldn't just be all good, out of his own desire and want for power. It was a shameful memory and even though he'd only been fifteen, he couldn't forgive himself. He had never really felt like he was a child, so he didn't think it appropriate to use his age at that time as an excuse.

Kiku stepped forward and took Heracles' hands. "If Bavonia won't come, then he'll come himself." He blinked up at him. Heracles leant over, wrapped strong arms around the smaller man and pressed his face into his shoulder wordlessly. Heracles was a leader, but he wasn't outspoken, brash, or even particularly aggressive. He was thoughtful and philosophical, wanted nothing but peace for the Talyin people, even after being immersed in years of sporadic, dangerous war. Spending time with him, Kiku thought he understood Yao more, understood the desire for everyone to get along when he saw what war had done to the people of the Resistance.

Footsteps crunched over the ground, headed toward them. Heracles lifted his head and turned as Feliks stepped into the storage room, frowning, hands on his hips. Heracles separated from Kiku reluctantly.

"We really do need to talk," he said, tone flat. "About Toris."

"Toris."

"When are we gonna go rescue him?" Feliks slashed a hand through the air. "He's just down there in, like, Ivan's dungeon! Are we just gonna leave him there?"

"No." Heracles stepped away from Kiku, padded softly towards the small blond. Feliks shrunk back instinctively, but Heracles laid a large hand on top of his head gently. "André, Fen and Antonio have gone to investigate." He blinked slightly down at him.

"Y-you never said anything."

"I don't know anything for certain," answered Heracles. "So I didn't say."

"Pft." Feliks swatted his hand away, but there was a little smile on his face. "I was getting mad at you for doing, like, nothing, but you've already been planning to save him." Heracles nodded. "Ha—then, I'm getting back to Margaux. Make sure she, like, doesn't try to move around or try and take over the country on her own."

"Are you going to break into Ivan's stronghold?" Kiku asked when Feliks had gone.

Heracles didn't say anything, back towards him.

"That's suicide and you know it, Heracles!" Stepping forward, the man fisted a hand in the back of his jacket. "I never took you for the reckless type!"

"I…they're my responsibility," Heracles said, looking back over his shoulder at him. "How can I just leave any of them behind? Toris did so much, too, for us." He turned around, pulled Kiku tightly against him and buried his face in his hair. "You should be getting back."

Kiku blinked against the rough material of his coat. "Yes." Even with this knowledge, he sighed, looped his arms around Heracles' waist and just held on to him, not wanting to go.

In Heldere, back in the country he grew up in, raised by Yao's parents and the boy himself, he could never have pictured this. Communicating information to Gilbert whenever a little yellow bird was sent to him, sneaking supplies to the Resistance, and thinking only of his old partner for help when Toris wondered who they could get to deliver a letter after they stumbled upon Ivan's true plan—

It was so far from the old him he wanted to laugh.

END CHAPTER THIRTEEN


Have some Greece/Japan. Aha.