Chapter 19: The Memories Of War
Something's wrong, Sten thought flatly as he threw down his cards, chuckling sheepishly; he'd lost the hand again. He'd been playing with the off-duty guards in the station's lounge all afternoon, and had been careful to only win one hand in five; that was bad enough to keep them in good humor, but not so much as to make them suspicious. As Gane had said, none of them had recognized him, and had accepted his story of being a freelancer without question.
Why do you say that? Sana asked inside his mind. Normally, the fiery Fusion Clanswoman would have responded to that line with snark and sarcasm, but she'd picked up on his mood, and seemed to share it. Sten still wasn't sure how he felt about the whole fusion thing, but it seemed she enjoyed it; ever since they'd done it, she'd been in his head, seemingly in a kind of relaxed, half-asleep daze, though that hadn't stopped her from running commentary until they'd actually arrived at Highfort. That had sobered her, as much as everybody else.
They should have been back by now, Sten explained mentally. It's sunset. They shouldn't have taken this long no matter how it went. Something's definitely gone wrong. Dammit, Ryu, what the hell are you doing?
"Hey, Stan," one of the guards said cheerfully in the Highlanders' guttural native tongue, a language spoken by few outside of the country, and only the Breath of Sands kept him from jumping, kept his body still and his blood cold; he'd been using it ever since he came down to the guard station. "What do you suppose is keeping your buddies? You've been down here all day."
"Trying to get rid of me, Bors?" Sten joked in the same language; despite how long he'd been away, he still remembered it.
"You kidding, Stan?" The guard shot back. "I've made more money off of you than I do on my paycheck!" They all laughed at that. "I'm just saying, maybe you should go check up on them. Just in case, you know?"
"Yeah, maybe," Sten admitted, thoughts racing. But I can't risk... I can't... I can't... can't...
You can't leave them, Sana interjected. Can you?
Can't leave them. He seized that thought, focused on it to the exclusion of all else, poured all of his concentration into it. I can't ditch those guys. Not after everything they've done for me. I can't run away again. Not this time. If they are in trouble... then I have to go help them. No matter what I have to risk to do it.
Good, Sana told him after a moment, seeming to smile. I'm glad.
Everybody needs something to believe in, he thought, drawing upon the Breath of Sands even more as he stood up. He knew he was pushing it; too much, and he'd be risking actual death instead of only the deathlike state the Breath simulated. It was the only way to calm the shakes and the panic, though, and there simply wasn't time for any of that now. "Yeah, okay, I'm gonna go see what's keeping them. Figures that I take my eyes off them for one day, and they start screwing everything up."
"Always the way, Stan," another soldier joked, and they all laughed again. "Just watch out for General Shupukay. It won't be pretty if she runs into you."
"Shupukay?" Sten asked casually, playing dumb. In his mind, though, just hearing her name again brought back a flood of memory, like it had with Gane.
He stood atop the hill, watching the slaughter without a word, his face calm and cold. They'd won the battle that day, and with it, the war; the rest would simply be cleanup. As soon as the men were done here, he'd sent them out to hunt down survivors; once all of the enemy in the hastily-built fortress were dead, there was no point in wasting trained soldiers on work that could be left to conscripts.
When his instincts screamed at him, he didn't panic, simply whirling around with a knife in his hand. The woman attempting to stab him in the back was still too slow, just as she had been every time before, and her reach was shorter than his own. Before she could realize he was counterattacking, he'd cut her arm and shoved it away, and she had to stumble back, her sneak attack ruined.
"Damn," Shupukay hissed, eyes pulsing with hate, though her smile was rueful. "Got me again, General."
"You always strike too soon," Sten explained, sheathing his knife again. "A knife is no good if you're not close enough to use it to its fullest capability. You were the one who wanted me to teach you how to fight with them, Major. Don't come crying to me if you get scratched up."
"I wasn't crying, General," Shupukay assured him, voice low. Stepping up next to him, she surveyed the carnage. "Looks like you've won it again."
"The idiots thought our first strike was a diversion." Sten scoffed. "Damn lizards always think they're savvier than anybody else. By the time they figured out the diversion came second, it was already all over."
"You didn't use my suggestion, then," Shupukay murmured, turning her head to glance at him. "And after I put so much time into it."
"It would have worked, I'll admit," Sten conceded. "But it would have gotten twice as many of our boys killed."
"So?" Shupukay scoffed. "You sound like Colonel Turbo. They're supposed to die in the service of our country, General. That's what grunts are for. Next you're going to start telling me water isn't supposed to be wet."
"We lost plenty down there already, Major," Sten told her, raising an eyebrow. "There's more than enough gore around to get you off."
"I thought that's what I had you for?" Shupukay smirked again before turning back to the slaughter. Despite their jokes, there was something even more than lust in her constantly shifting eyes as she watched the carnage; it was reverential, almost religious. "I see you are taking my advice over the Colonel's when it comes to surrender, though."
"Turbo's too soft-hearted sometimes," Sten agreed. "These Kimoto scum only understand one thing. I don't want this happening again, and that means making today's lesson a very clear one."
"They die," Shupukay murmured. It wasn't a question.
"They die." Sten nodded grimly. "Every last one of them. The wounded, the crippled, the elderly and the young. Nobody walks away from this on their side. Maybe then, they'll actually learn. And even if they don't, it'll make them afraid. Either way, at least we'll be able to go a few years without those lizards doing what they did to this village again." He'd have said that any qualms he'd held had been banished once he saw what the Kimoto had done to the Highlander villagers, but that would have been a lie; he'd been planning to end it this way before he'd even arrived on the field.
"And people tell me that I'm scary." Shupukay's eyes danced with hate as she looked into his, but it was a passionate hate, one so fierce it wrapped around into something else again when they were alone. "You really do think the ends justify the means, don't you?"
"If there's a hell, I'm going to it." Sten shrugged. "But a lot of other people won't. Come on, let's go back to camp. We've got a few hours more to catch up on our sleep before we'll need to give some more orders."
"Sleep, is it?" Shupukay rested a hand on his shoulder lightly, as deathly cold to the touch with the Breath of Sands as always; as far as he knew, she'd never once relaxed it, even when sleeping. "Is that what you wanted to do with our time?"
"Well." Sten had to smile as well. "Mostly sleep."
"A female general," Bors explained darkly, as the others all sobered as well. The real world fell in around Sten once more; his memories had passed in the blink of an eye. "She blasted her way to the top ranks faster than anybody in the history of Highland. Jumped two ranks straight to Colonel right after she won the Battle of Goonheim, and once that happened, there was no stopping her."
"She what?" Sten blurted, then quickly recovered. I sent her away so she wouldn't do that! "Way I heard it, it was some guy named Turbo." Again the fog of memory threatened to trickle in, but this time he held it back; he didn't have time for that shit.
"Colonel Turbo?" Bors shook his head. "Nah, man. It was Shupukay. She's a genius, I'll give her that much, but..." He shivered. "Something about her just gives everybody the creeps. Nobody's ever been able to prove anything, but a lot of people think she actually tries to get as many of our boys killed as she can without losing a battle."
"Sounds like a pretty sick customer," Sten replied, and meant it more than they could ever know. "I'll watch my ass. Thanks."
But you and her were... Sana murmured in his mind. Why?
Reasons, Sten thought shortly as he went back upstairs. Political reasons, and personal ones. Sorry, but I don't like thinking about it. Gane was still standing guard, and he glanced up sharply as Sten emerged from the stairwell. "Hey, Gane. My buddies come back yet?"
"Not yet," Gane said quietly. "You worried too, Ge... Sten?"
"Yeah," Sten agreed, fighting to keep from falling back into old habits of command. "Listen, I'm gonna go check up on them. If anybody asks..."
"You were never here." Gane nodded. "I remember. I might not be the smartest soldier, but I can follow orders, Sten."
"You always could," Sten conceded. "Good man." That's the problem with this Clan. Too many of them aren't too bright, but they know how to follow orders, even if they're... He cut that thought off viciously as he kept walking past Gane. No. Stop. Shut up. It's not my business any more. I gave up any right to that when I deserted. The little alcove down the hall still held the polished, gleaming black Statue of Ladon; idly, he wondered if his friends had seen it when they'd walked past. He would have stopped to ask the old man if he knew anything, but he couldn't with Gane there; he was fairly sure seeing his old CO talk to a statue would cross the line, even for Gane.
Sten? Sana asked quietly. Is there... anything I can do?
Heh. Sten chuckled mentally, but it was to hide his shock; he hadn't really realized just how badly this was getting to her until she'd said that. She wasn't the kind of girl who ever talked like that. Just stay with me, okay? I don't want to get heavy on you-we agreed to keep this casual for a reason-but just this once... I don't think I could do this alone.
I will, Sana promised. Don't worry about it. I'm not the kind of girl who reads too much into this. Can I ask what was with that statue of Ladon, though? It wasn't like most of them. It was still kept in good condition. I've only seen one like that before in my life, when my granny took me on a trip to see it as a kid.
My Clan still worships the Dragon God. He stepped out onto the first bridge, fighting a surge of nostalgia; he'd been five the first time he walked onto this bridge, and he still remembered what it was like to look down, down, all the way to the ocean below. Like yours, right? It's one of our best-kept secrets. We do so much work for the Church of St. Eva that we can't let it get out. If anybody asks, we just say we're not really religious people. He chuckled. Like that's going to happen with an entire Clan of soldiers. I was raised on Ladon's teachings, and I believed, up until Goonheim.
He talks to you, now, though, doesn't he? Sana asked, sounding wistful. You and the rest of your team. I used to wish he'd speak to me, actually say something, just once, when I was young. I always thought the Fusion Clan were the only ones left in the world who followed Ladon. What was it like, the first time he did?
The first time? Sten chuckled bitterly. The first time, I was a wandering bum sleeping in a gutter in a town in Windia because my traveling entertainer act had won me enough zenny for ale, but nothing more. When that statue started talking to me, Sana, I just thought I'd finally snapped. Didn't really come as a surprise.
"Hey, look at that!" A man suddenly called down from high above him, mocking and sardonic, and Sten froze. "There's some guy down there who looks just like my old war buddy, Sten Legacy! Who'd have figured, huh? Small world, right, pal?"
"Turbo?" Sten whispered, staring upwards, as memories poured in once more.
"Ooooooh, Turbo." The Highlander standing atop the lowest tower sneered, leaning over the rail to stare down at him. He was golden-furred, shaggier than Sten, wearing baggy purple pants and a red coat open over a white shirt, with his nunchaku hanging from his belt as always. His face was strong, but not handsome, though his short beard helped a little. What caught Sten's attention, though, was that his brown eyes held a savage, burning rage that hadn't been there when they were both young. Turbo had changed, and not for the better.
"Ah, Colonel." Sten looked up from the map on the table as his number two man stormed into the tent. "I'd like to have your opinion on a matter of-" He broke off as Turbo nailed him across the jaw with a contemptuous punch, and the guards in the tent all drew their weapons.
"Don't even try it, monkeys," Turbo snapped, scowling down at Sten. "Or else I'll ram every last one of those right up your asses."
"Stand down, boys." Sten waved, and they backed off, some more reluctantly than others. "Colonel Turbo has a special dispensation when it comes to insubordination, as I'm sure you all recall." Pushing himself back up, he glanced at Turbo, amused. "All right, out with it. What did I do this time?"
"You gave orders to have Colonel Kemmler crucified, that's what!" Turbo snarled. "What's wrong with you?"
"Does the word 'treason' mean anything to you?" Sten drawled, unconcerned. "Kemmler sold troop information to his wife's brother in Prima so they could bargain us down further, Turbo. Are you telling me I shouldn't make an example of him?"
"I didn't say that." Turbo shook his head, sitting down across the table from him. "Of course Kemmler has to die. That's inarguable. But crucifying him? That's going too far, and you know it, Sten."
"It's called making an example for a reason, Turbo," Sten explained patiently. "The point is to discourage anybody else from following Kemmler's example. If there's a better way to do that than crucifixion, I'd like to hear it."
"You could always ask Major Shupukay," Turbo said quietly. "I'm sure she'd be able to come up with something."
They remained silent for a moment, staring each other down, before Sten deflated with a heavy sigh.
"Dammit, Turbo," he muttered, staring at his feet. "It's not like that."
"Oh, it's not?" Turbo asked derisively. "No, no, I don't want details. That's between you and her, and better you than me, buddy, no matter how hot she is. What I'm worried about is that she'll rub off on you. Being practical is one thing; somebody's gotta do it, and you were always the best in our class at that. But crucifixion, Sten? That's going too far, and you know it. Kemmler might have sold us out, but he served the country loyally for thirty years until he did. He doesn't deserve to die like that. If you're going to kill him, do it clean."
"This isn't about me, Turbo," Sten said quietly. "It's about what's best for Highland. Right and wrong come second to that."
"Then take it before the princess," Turbo told him. "And let her decide what's best for Highland. And for you."
Sten's head snapped up again, and he narrowed his eyes, meeting Turbo's. His old friend stared back, unafraid, and they remained like that for the better part of a minute before Sten glanced away a second time.
"That won't be necessary," he said flatly. "All right, Turbo. You win. Kemmler's head comes off tomorrow at dawn. I'll hold the ax myself."
"Sten, that's not-" Turbo started to say.
"Dammit, Turbo," Sten snarled, looking at him again. "I said you won. If I'm going to kill him, I should damn well be able to do it with my own hands."
"It's not that," Turbo assured him. "It's just... remember what happened the last time you tried using an ax? Not your best weapon, Sten."
They both dwelt on that for a moment, before Sten started to laugh, and after a moment, Turbo did too.
"All right, all right," Sten gave in after the laughter had died down. "You do it."
"Sir, yes sir." Turbo smiled. "Now then, what did you want to talk to me about?"
"Our next field assignment." Sten gestured at the map. "Over in northern Carmen. Place called Goonheim."
"Oooh, Mister Turbo, ooooh," Turbo continued to taunt, the memory snapping away. "Well, well, will you look at that. It is my old buddy Sten!" In an instant, his mocking tone vanished. "What the hell do you mean, 'Turbo?' Huh? Is that all you've got to say for yourself, deserter? 'Turbo, Turbo!' Like a little lost schoolgirl who misses her big brother! You're pathetic!"
"Turbo, I..." Sten held up his hands, but that only enraged the other man more.
"Stop saying my name, dammit!" Turbo roared. "You stinking piece of shit, where do you get off, coming back here after what you did? No, wait, let me guess, 'you're sorry,' right? Well? Am I? Huh?"
"I..." Sten stammered, mind frozen. "I..."
"I knew it!" Turbo screamed, growing even angrier, if possible. "I knew that was what you were going to say, you monkey! Did you really think that cheap dye job would keep me from recognizing you? Or did you plan to just sneak in and out without ever getting up the balls to face me down? You don't even care about how this place has gone to hell without you! I'm going to take every single drop of blood out of your hide!"
"Wait, Turbo!" Sten yelled. "Not now! I've got-"
"Enough of your bullshit!" Turbo drew his nunchaku, flourishing them once before leaping from the top of the tower. "Time to pay the piper, General Sten Legacy!" Flipping as he fell, he landed on the bridge without flinching, and immediately charged low to the ground, whipping his nunchaku out at Sten's legs.
He's gone berserk! Sana told him. You'll have to take him down to get him to stop, or else he'll kill you!
"Shit!" Sten snarled, diving forward into a flip of his own as he drew his knives. It was with his feet that he struck, though, laying a double kick into Turbo's face. He knew this was going to be ugly; he was at a severe disadvantage, fighting only to injure against an enemy intent on taking his life. As Turbo fell back, he pulled his nunchaku in and up, knocking Sten away from him before he could use his knives. Sten tumbled to the side, only barely managing to keep from going over the edge, and sidestepped away as Turbo lashed out with a sweep kick.
They were on opposite sides of the bridge from where they'd started now, and for a moment, Sten was tempted to just turn and bolt further into Highfort. He knew that would be folly, though; if Turbo didn't kill him from behind, he'd call for guards to clap him in irons. Instead, he turned and swiped at Turbo's ankles with a knife, even as he dove to the side again to avoid the nunchaku coming down on his head. It caught his shoulder, though, slamming him to the floor, and before he could rise Turbo lashed out again, cracking ribs and sending him skittering over the side of the bridge.
Only quick thinking saved Sten from falling to his death. Gritting his teeth, he cast the Bomb spell at a point below him, and the force of the atmospheric explosion blew him back through the air. Stunned, Turbo froze for an instant, and Sten took the opportunity to throw a knife as he flew through the air, piercing Turbo just below the shoulder. Hissing, the blonde Highlander fell back, clutching the wound, and Sten landed with a grunt before scrambling back to his feet.
"I guess I shouldn't be surprised that you're so pissed off at me," he said quietly, carefully watching Turbo for any signs of attacking again. "All things considered, can't really say I blame you, either."
"Of course I'm pissed off, you bastard!" Turbo snarled. "But you don't even get that, do you? Desertion is one thing, but... dammit, Sten, all this time, we all thought you were dead!" Something flickered in his eyes, and he relaxed slightly, looking away. "The last time I saw you alive was when you led the 21st into the fray, and then..."
"I know." Sten shook his head. "I'm sorry."
"It was a suicide charge," Turbo murmured, staring over the side of the bridge now, and in a flash of insight, Sten suddenly realized he wasn't the only one who'd carried the ghosts of Goonheim in his head ever since. "Everybody knew it. There was no way you'd be able to get through. Only time me and Shupukay ever agreed on anything. But you wouldn't listen, you went on and did it, and now..." He gritted his teeth. "Now, you tell me you were planning to desert? You threw away everybody in the 21st's lives just so you could get out?"
"No," Sten hissed, rage filling his mind as he remembered how they'd died. "Say that again and I'll gut you like a fish, Turbo. No, I never planned on running away. I was just an idiot, who made a stupid call, and my men paid for it."
"So your plan was to die a hero?" Turbo growled. "Was that it? That's just as bad as running away!"
"I know, I know." Sten hung his head. "That's all I've been doing ever since that day, Turbo. Running away. That's why I couldn't come back. I couldn't face you."
"I don't care about me, you stupid shit!" Turbo turned back to him, rage growing again. "What I'll never forgive you for is leaving the Princess like that! You knew what would happen here, without you around!"
"I heard," Sten admitted. "They say Shupukay's running the show these days. I thought you would be able to..." He shook his head. "Listen, Turbo. There's people in there. Friends of mine. I think they're in trouble. If you want me to answer for what I did, I will. I'll come back and face a trial. But I need to get those guys out, first. I can't leave them, Turbo. It's the first time I've ever come back for anybody, ever since that day."
"And I'm supposed to be impressed by that?" Turbo roared. "That the man the Princess fell in love with is such a spineless monkey? You're worthless, Sten Legacy! If you want to save your friends, save your own ass first!"
"No, wait!" Sten started to yell as Turbo raised his hands and began to chant, but it was too late. The blonde Highlander had been even more specialized in magic as Sten; there was only one offensive element he'd ever been ever to master. Earth. "Don't! You idiot, what do you think you're doing? You'll kill us both!"
"Let's go!" Turbo said as the bridge began shaking uncontrollably. "If you want me out of your way, show me you're still you! Prove you're not just a worthless piece of shit! From here, it's a good minute before we'll hit the water! If you want to survive that landing, you'd better take me out first, Sten!"
With a horrible grinding of stone, both ends of the bridge broke off, and it fell into the void, bearing Sten and Turbo with it.
"Fine," Sten hissed, giving in to his old instincts and mindset at last. "You brought this on yourself, Turbo. I tried." He brought his hands up and began to speak the words of magic himself, of a spell he'd never been able to master back when he was a general.
"Too little, too late!" Turbo crowed, running forward again, nunchaku whirling. Straight into the pyramid of flames that Sten called up around him. Screaming, fur blazing, he rolled on the ground as Sten dove for him, and struck him sharply behind the ear with the hilt of his dagger. Even then, he still groaned and struggled, until a second blow finally knocked him out.
"Shit," Sten growled, staring over the edge; as Turbo had said, they were far enough up that they wouldn't hit the water for some time. Even so, it would likely be fatal to somebody as busted up as Turbo was, unless he did something about it.
Do you have a plan? Sana asked as he moved Turbo so that he was lying flat on his face. You've got a plan, right?
"Yeah, I've got a plan," Sten muttered, walking back away from his old friend to stand at the other end of the bridge. "It's a godawful plan, but it's the best I can come up with." He waited, as the water grew closer, and then at the last instant, cast another Bomb spell, this time below the falling bridge. With luck, the concussion would provide enough force to nullify some of the inertia of their fall, enough that Turbo would live.
Unfortunately, he failed to account for the slight wooziness caused by his own injuries. His aim was off, more towards Turbo's side of the bridge than his own, and as a result that end snapped up like a seesaw, catapulting Turbo through the air. Where he landed, Sten didn't see, on account of what happened to his end of the bridge. Slamming downward, it shot him into the depths of the ocean like an arrow from a bow.
Yup, he thought as he swam for the surface. Definitely a bad plan. Reaching it, he burst from the water, gasping for air, and immediately looked for Turbo. His friend had washed ashore at the base of the southeast tower; swimming over, Sten checked him and sighed gratefully; somehow, he'd survived. "Guy always did have me when it came to durability."
He needs medical help, though, Sana murmured. And there's no white mages around.
"No, but there is a medical station," Sten recalled, opening up the old, rarely used door at the base of the tower. "Here we go!" A Spring of Life was inside, its magical waters filled with healing energy. Set in an alcove, it had a thin rim keeping it from spilling across the floor, and the carved head of Ladon set in the wall above and beyond as a fountainhead; how it didn't overflow was a mystery, as there was no drain. The fountains had once been common across the world, apparently, but now only a few remained, and Highfort contained several at opportune places.
Dragging Turbo inside, Sten forced him to drink until he could no longer see any injuries, then set him flat on the floor. Sitting down in a corner, he watched him until his head began to nod with exhaustion.
"Good evening, Sten," a familiar, old man's voice said quietly, and he blinked, turning his head to stare sleepily at an alcove where a well-kept statue stood. As always, despite the carved, immobile features on the hunk of rock, Sten had the feeling that it was somehow looking at him. "Looks like it's been one of those days."
"Understatement of the century, chief," Sten said dryly. For a moment, he considered asking Sana if she could hear Ladon as well when she was fused with him, but decided not to. If she wanted any part in the conversation, she'd speak up, and if she didn't, she wouldn't. "And somehow, I get the feeling tomorrow's gonna be just as bad."
"I wouldn't put any zenny on an upturn in fortune any time soon," Ladon agreed. "Even if I had any. On the other hand, if you accept ghost money..."
"Nice try." Sten chuckled, wondering for the third or fourth time about his pet theory when it came to the Dragon God. Even when he was talking to all of them together, it had seemed like everybody heard slightly different words, which had caused Sten to wonder if everybody percieved Ladon's speech in a manner that reflected their own personality. "Don't suppose you could give me any hints about what's going on here?"
"I'm not supposed to say anything," Ladon hedged after a moment. "Not about this place, or the people within it."
"How about Ryu and the others?" Sten spotted the hole he'd left. "Are they going to be okay until tomorrow?"
"They are in dire circumstances, but not immediately life-threatening ones," Ladon admitted slowly, as if carefully considering each word. "There is no absolute need for haste at the moment. I take it that you will be waiting until your old friend regains consciousness before you leave this room, then?"
"Yeah." Sten narrowed his eyes. "If I'm going to stop running away, stop abandoning anybody... Turbo still counts, just as much as they do. Once he's back up, I'll try talking to him one more time, and then... one way or the other, I'm gonna go find the guys."
"Very well," Ladon said approvingly. "Good luck, and watch your back. Not all is as it seems to be, and it has not been for a very long time."
Sten knew better than to ask about that, so he simply fell silent, watching Turbo once more. He stayed awake for as long as he could, but eventually his exhaustion simply overtook him, and he slipped away into the darkness.
"All right, get in there!" The leader of the Highlander guards barked, opening the cell door to reveal a filthy stone cube, the back wall lined with bunks and a disgusting toilet. "And don't get any funny ideas! Women in the next one over!"
"Do it," Ryu agreed quietly, prompting frowns from several of the group, but they all walked in obediently; the hall behind them was still filled side to side with crossbow-bearing troops. The cell was about twenty feet square, and there was room for all four of them; Spar had remained behind with Katt and Nina.
"Excuse me, sir," the Grass Man said politely. "I am neither male nor female. Which cell would you prefer that I occupy?"
"Shaddup!" The guard barked. "If I wanted questions I'd ask for 'em, flower. We know about your kind. You're with the girls. Look girly enough to me, anyways." He opened the next cell, and Spar walked in obediently, as calm as ever. Nina and Katt followed it in a moment later, the later grumbling under her breath. Once they were inside, the guard locked the doors, and the Highlanders all marched off without another word.
"What gives, Ryu?" Katt asked once they were gone. "That asshole was wide open! We could have taken him hostage, easily, and then..."
"They'd have shot him along with us," Bow cut her off flatly, walking over to flop down on a bunk and lay on his back, arms folded under his head. "You could tell, just looking at 'em. They'd do it in a heartbeat, if the alternative was failing Shupukay, and that captain would have wanted them to." He glanced over at Ryu. "Demon, buddy?"
"Oh, yeah." Ryu nodded grimly. "Way demon. Probably even another Demon Lord. Elder Martha must have missed her because she's been digging in here for what sounds like the better part of the last decade. We're in it deep this time, folks."
"I can see that," Nina said, sounding disgusted; presumably, the toilet in their cell was as horrendous as that in the males'. "I always used to wonder what being jailed would actually be like. Now I wish I hadn't."
"Don't worry, I'll get us out of here," Katt assured her. "These chumps didn't know what they were dealing with." A moment passed, and then another, as she began to grunt irritably. "All right, what the hell is this?"
"Trying to pull the bars out?" Rand guessed, tapping a finger on one of theirs. "Nice idea, but it's not gonna work. Looks like these are Guntz steel. The Builder Clan use the Breath of Metal to forge it. Even your Breath of Spirit won't be able to budge them."
"Well, that's bullshit," she groused. "Think I'd be able to punch a hole through these walls, then?"
"Not without alerting the guards," Spar told her. "They might not be right outside here, but I'm sure they'd hear that."
"Everybody in the entire cell block can probably hear you assholes," a female voice growled from the cell across the hall. She'd been sleeping on the bunk under a blanket; raising her head, she blinked lazily. "Shut up, will you? How's a girl supposed to get any sleep with you... raising... such... a..." She trailed off, eyes widening in recognition. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me!"
"Oh, hell no." Bow's head snapped forward to stare in disbelief, as did everybody else's except for Spar. "Not you again. That's just what my day needed."
"I take it you are acquainted?" The Grass Man asked, sounding curious.
"That's one way of putting it," Patty Smith, the self-declared "phantom thief," snarked as she swung her legs off the side of her bunk, discarding the blanket. A blue-haired, pale-skinned girl in her mid-teens, she didn't really fill her out her red leather leotard that well; combined with too much makeup, it made her look like she was trying too hard. Her skills as a thief were no joke, though; she'd been responsible for framing Bow, and had led them a merry chase across half the world before they'd finally caught her, and eventually helped her escape again in the end. "I can think of a few others that come to mind."
"Ah, you are too kind, mademoiselle," Jean told her blithely. "I must confess a certain curiosity as to the circumstances behind your presence here, however."
"I was trying to swipe something out of here, of course." Patty rolled her eyes, stretching the large, black bat-like wings on her back. Whatever her Clan was, none of them recognized it, and it would have been rude to ask. "Duh. What about you guys? Can't say I expected to run into you, of all people, here."
"If it was the famous flute, we're going to have trouble," Nina told her lightly. "Since that's what we're here for."
"What, the magic hood wasn't enough for you?" Patty scoffed. "I've got no interest in that thing. Go ahead and keep it, if you can get out of here. Maybe if you're nice to me, once I figure a way out, I'll open your cells too."
"Listen, you..." Bow started to growl, but stopped as Ryu held up a hand.
"We'd appreciate that," he said levelly, meeting Patty's eyes, the same shade of green as his own. "Seeing as how the Highlanders seem to have a little demon problem. Didn't know about it when we came in, but now that we do..."
"You don't say." All trace of mockery fled from Patty's voice, as if she'd simply turned off a switch in her head labeled "sarcasm." "Another demon, huh? Highly placed?"
"One of their generals," Rand grunted. "Apparently the one who's running the show around here these days. Figures, huh?"
"No kidding." Patty flopped back onto her bunk. "Well, shit. That changes things. What are you going to do about it? I didn't know you were trying to get into this whole demonslaying business full time."
"We're not," Ryu said firmly. "But we are being paid for something that's going to require us borrowing that flute. If a demon happens to get in the way of that..." He shrugged theatrically. "Whoops." Despite his flippancy, he still felt a chill when he thought about it. Demons were one thing, but a Demon Lord was an order of magnitude far beyond the likes of M.C. Tusk. Even thinking about Kuwadora was all it took to remind himself that their best bet was to steal the flute, get out, and deal with Shupukay later, preferably with a meteor strike.
"I like 'whoops,'" Patty mused thoughtfully. "All right. This demon would probably get in the way of the files I'm after, too, so if you get me out of here when you make your break for it, I'll help you out."
"Who says we want your help?" Katt muttered. Everybody ignored her.
"I thought you claimed that you were going to escape, and open our cell as well," Spar pointed out. "You said so yourself."
"Yeah, well..." Patty shifted uncertainly. "I was kind of bluffing. They found all my lockpicks, even the hairpins, and took them off of me. I was just planning on waiting for my backup to come looking for me until you showed up."
Everybody shared a facepalm, even Jean; though Ryu couldn't see the girls' cell, he was pretty sure he heard three hands meeting heads from in there as well.
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," Patty groused. "But you've got a plan, don't you? One of your guys isn't in there with you. The Highlander. Sten, right? I'm guessing he's going to bust you out of here pretty soon?"
"Let's hope so," Nina murmured. "Sometimes Sten can be a bit... well..."
"He'll come," Ryu told her firmly. "Sten's erratic, but when the chips are down, we can count on him. He'll bail us out. I'd bet a hundred grand on it."
"Might want to get some sleep until then, then," Patty suggested, pulling the blanket back over her. "That way you'll be rested up for the action once it's go time."
"I hate to admit it, but she's got a point," Rand admitted, hurling himself onto his bunk and shaking the cell.
"Yeah, she does." Ryu nodded. "All right, people, take five. We've got nothing better to do until Sten comes along anyways." Climbing onto his own bunk, he pulled the moth-eaten blanket up to his shoulders and drifted off.
Power. We need more of your power. God needs more of your power. Give yourself to God. Pray to God. Praise God. Sacrifice your bodies and souls to God. You are destined to become God's power...
The sky was a sick yellow from the smoke; there'd been more than enough fires over the past few days to taint the clouds. The summer drought had dried the fields, and the Ogre Clansmen of Goonheim hadn't hesitated to take advantage of that, releasing oceans of flames that had taken a massive toll on the Highlander mercenaries before they'd even reached Fog Valley. Things had only gone downhill from there. Outnumbered, outmaneuvered, and on the wrong side of the fortifications, the three divisions of mercenaries were being slaughtered.
They were running out of food fast, and water faster; by this point, everybody was on absolutely minimal rations of the latter, and they wouldn't be able to live for long that way, even if the enemy didn't kill them first. The Ogres had every advantage, and they knew it; periodically, they would come creeping down out of the ever-present mists that gave the valley its name and tear off a piece of the mercenaries before slipping away once more. There was nothing they could do about it; attempting to chase them down in that place was suicide, and they had no chance at all of breaching Goonheim.
"Shupukay-shupukay-shupukay-shupukay-shupukay!" The Major snarled, quick and measured, as she always did when agitated. "I still say our only hope is to throw everything we have at them! Those pigs are cowards at heart. If we can just bring the front gate down, all the fight will go out of them!" She, Sten and Turbo were all in the General's tent, sitting at a table with the map of the battlefield on it, a depressing sight. No matter how one looked at it, they were definitely in a losing situation at the moment.
"If you want to die, Major, go right ahead," Turbo snarled, putting his hands on the table and leaning forward. "Save some time and just go for a walk. It'll be faster. The rest of us will work on a plan that actually involves living to see tomorrow."
"I didn't mean do it ourselves, Colonel," Shupukay retorted, leaning back in her own chair and smirking, arms folded. "We have grunts for a reason, you know. If we're as doomed as you seem to think we are, we might as well get some use out of them while we can, don't you think?"
"That does it!" Turbo roared. "I'm gonna-"
"Both of you, settle down and shut up," Sten said, quiet and calm, but they both listened, turning to look at him. He was slouching, toying idly with one of his daggers, as he thought. "You're both wrong. A total offensive will kill us all, but staying on the defensive like this isn't going to get us out of this alive either. Retreat isn't an option; in this hellhole, we'd never make it out before they hit us from behind and wiped us out."
"We could feign a retreat," Shupukay suggested grudgingly. "Lure them out of the walls, then turn around and rip them apart. Fighting the Ogres in the open, one-on-one, we win. Our boys are better than they are. It's all the other factors that've been losing this fight for us."
"I hate to say this, but you might be onto something there," Turbo agreed, sounding like he was agreeing to a year of latrine duty. "If me and the boys set some surprises for them all around here, and leave more in our wake..." Turbo's 13th Division specialized in demolitions, and while they weren't much good by themselves in open combat, when supporting another division they were the stuff of nightmares. Normally. At Goonheim, they'd been caught in the nightmare themselves, just like all of the other Highlanders.
"Incoming!" A guard outside screamed, and all three of them dived for the floor, not a moment too soon; one of the hideous bladed bolas the Ogres used whipped through the tent at head height, tearing through the canvas on both sides. Swearing sulfurously, Turbo jumped back to his feet and dived out through the new window, and the sounds of brutal hand-to-hand combat filled the air joined the screams of the dying.
"Let's go," Shupukay hissed, rising as well, and Sten did too, both of them drawing their knives. Glancing out the tent's entryway, they saw an Ogre running past, ax held overhead as he bellowed a battlecry. As he ran by, Sten stabbed him in the neck and hauled him into the tent with one long arm, and the two of them finished him off, grim and practical; even a fatal injury might take several minutes to kill an Ogre if you weren't thorough.
By the time they were done, the violence had died down; it had apparently only been a skirmish. Throwing the corpse back outside, Sten and Shupukay sat back down and waited for Turbo to return, knowing that he would bring a report of how it had gone when he did. Dust seemed to catch in Sten's throat, but he resisted the temptation to have a drink of water; they needed to ration every single drop they could. Tauntingly, the mists that kept them locked in a sightless hell refused to condense; everybody was sweating like a pig, but that was the only moisture to be found.
"Twelve more dead," Turbo growled as he walked in, a few minutes after the attack had ended. "Fifteen more injured. We got five of theirs."
"If they keep this up at their current rate, by the end of the week, we won't have enough men to do anything but die," Shupukay said firmly. "We need to do something, now. If we feign a retreat, then maybe..."
"No." Sten shook his head, leaning over the map. "That attack came from the southeast, didn't it?"
"Yeah." Turbo blinked. "So?"
"So, Goonheim is north of us," Sten explained grimly. "All these recent attacks have been coming from the southeast and southwest. They have even more than we thought. As soon as we made camp, they sent troops down to cut us off. If we break for the south, they'll ambush us and tear us to shreds."
"Then we're out of options," Turbo said, putting his head in his hands.
"No, we're not." Shupukay narrowed her constantly moving eyes. "There's still my plan."
"I've got a better one." Sten's thoughts raced as he stared down at the map. "Your plan... they'll expect that, too. It's our only viable option aside from a retreat, at this point. They'll be prepared for that, too. But if we fake them out... have one of our three Divisions charge into the fray... the other two might be able to get over the wall if they attack from a different angle." He jabbed a finger down at the map. "Here. The east side. It's right up against the eastern cliffs. The 21st will charge the gates, and then we'll take the 13th and the 17th up the cliff to the top while the enemy are distracted."
"And then we come down on their stinking heads like a thunderstorm." Turbo slowly nodded. "It's risky. Risky as hell. But it might work. And that's the best we can hope for."
"Indeed," Shupukay murmured. "I agree as well."
"Glad to hear it," Sten said dryly. "Well then, you have the command until I get back, Colonel. Keep them alive."
"Until you..." Turbo blinked. "Wait. You're going out there?"
"Ridiculous!" Shupukay blurted. "Did you take a head injury?"
"Weren't you listening?" Sten gave them an exhausted, bitter smile. "One of our divisions is going to have to sacrifice itself to keep the other two alive. I can't ask the 21st to throw away their lives like that unless I'm willing to do it with them."
For the first time, Turbo and Shupukay exchanged a glance of agreement.
"That's not how it goes, Sten," Turbo said quietly. "Generals don't do that."
"No, they don't," Shupukay agreed.
"Maybe they should." Sten walked past him. "I'm not you, Shupukay. If I have to sentence my entire division to death in order to win, I'll do it. But I'm going with them."
"Then I'll go with you." She stood up, eyes burning. "I'm not letting anybody kill you except me, Sten Legacy."
"Oh, stop." He rolled his eyes. "It's just the three of us here. You don't need to give either of us that melodramatic bullshit. We know better."
"What will you have me do, then?" She asked, apparent emotional outburst fading in an instant. "Stay here and support Turbo?"
"Oh, hell no," Turbo growled. "I don't need any 'support' from you, thanks."
"Don't worry, muscles, you're not my type." She sneered.
"Stop." Sten held up a hand. "You're going back to Highfort. If we lose, somebody's going to have to tell the rest of our people how this all went down. You're it. Get one of the battlemages to Warp you back there."
Shupukay stared at him for a long moment, and he stared back, waiting for her to go for her knives. In the end, though, she simply saluted and walked out without a word.
"Sten, listen," Turbo started to say.
"Go." Sten held a hand up. "We've said all that needs to be said, Colonel. I have my duty, and you have yours. Carry it out." He followed Shupukay out of the tent, and walked north, towards his division, and his probable death.
And for the first time, Sten Legacy actually considered the knowledge that he was about to die, and realized that he was afraid to.
Sten hit the water, thrown into it, and sank into the fountain as the shock broke him out of his dream in an instant. Coughing and sputtering, Sten rose to the surface, spewing the Water of Life all over himself, not that it made much difference considering he was already completely soaked. Clutching the rim of the fountain with one arm, he covered his eyes with the other; the sunrise was shining straight into them through the door of the tower.
"Idiot," Turbo muttered, standing over him; he'd apparently been the one to throw Sten in. "You force me to drink until I'm all better, but forget to take some for yourself? I must have rattled your skull better than I thought up there." The blonde Highlander was still looking grumpy, but the burning wrath of the day before had left his eyes.
"Gee, thanks, asshole," Sten sputtered, climbing out of the fountain. "You could have just made me drink some."
"Now where would the fun be in that?" Turbo drawled, sitting back down on the floor, back to a wall. "Especially since I lost yesterday. Damn. Where'd you learn that trick? I always thought you were as shitty a mage as me."
"I am." Sten joined him. "The team I'm running with these days is a different story, though. Our Black Mage is this genius out of Auria. Wing Clan girl. Insisted she could help me learn that one, and whaddaya know, she was right." Chuckling, he directed his thoughts inward. You still all right in there, Sana?
Yup, she confirmed. We should talk, but that can wait. I'll stay out of this; it's not really any of my business anyways.
"Team, huh?" Turbo raised an eyebrow. "Those friends of yours? You never did tell me what you were doing these days."
"Spent a lot of time living like a bum on the road." Sten sighed. "Ladon knows I probably deserved it. A few months back, though, I got scooped up by a team of mercs. I'm working as their knife man now. New group, but they've got a lot of promise. The Dragonkin, running out of southern Auria."
"Dragonkin, Dragonkin..." Turbo snapped his fingers. "That's right, we've heard a few things about that group. Some real mess over in Capitan, right? And then there was something big involving the Siman royal family."
"It's been an interesting few months," Sten conceded. "You, though... you haven't changed a bit, buddy." He chuckled. "Still as reckless as ever. Kind of surprised you didn't make it past Colonel. Still leading up those rowdies in the 13th?"
"Reckless, huh?" Turbo growled, and for a moment, his eyes burned again. "That's one way of putting it. And you... you've changed on the surface, but underneath, you're still the same old Sten Legacy." His fist shot out suddenly, slamming into the wall. "But you came home way too late! You idiot!"
"Turbo, I'm not here to..." Sten started to say, then trailed off, thinking about what he'd said. The same old Sten Legacy underneath, huh. After a moment, he lowered his head. "Maybe you'd better tell me about what's been happening here since I left."
"What do you think's been happening?" Turbo asked angrily, shaking his head. "Shupukay's in charge. The whole country, and all of our Clansmen... they've all been jumping to her tune ever since she made General." He glared at Sten. "And it's your fault. You're the one who sent her away from Goonheim."
"What are you talking about?" Sten frowned. "I thought you'd have been the one to win the day at Goonheim. When I heard that Highland had pulled that one off, I assumed our plan had worked. That you'd gotten through."
"Maybe we would have." Turbo scowled. "We got through, all right. It wasn't pretty, but we might have been able to bring them down..." His eyes darkened. "And then Shupukay returned. Charged in from the north with another two companies that she claimed she'd stationed up there 'just in case.' We slaughtered them, and she took all the credit." He shook his head. "Dammit, Sten, I told you she'd be trouble!"
"Shit..." Sten's eyes widened. "She got me! In the end, when I sent her away... I was doing it to make sure it'd be you, not her, who rose to the top... but she was one step ahead of me the whole time! I should have known!"
"Huh?" Turbo blinked, surprised. "Wait, what? I thought the reason you sent her back was because you and her were... well, I thought you didn't want her to get killed if the fight went against us."
"You're such an idiot, Turbo." Sten sighed. "How many times did I tell you, it wasn't like that, between us?" He gazed up at the ceiling. "You think we were in love? Please. I don't think Shupukay even knows how, and I sure as hell wouldn't have fallen for somebody like her. She hated me, Turbo, and the funny thing was, she's so sick in the head, that's probably the closest she can come to affection. At least there's some emotional involvement."
"And you wanted a girl like that?" Turbo asked, disbelievingly. "Why? It can't have just been because she was hot."
"Hell no." Sten snorted. "No, I was trying to stop this from happening, from the first day she told me she'd be 'grateful' if I made sure her promotion to Major went through. I knew if I didn't do something, she'd blast through the ranks, and I knew what a disaster that would be for Highland. Shupukay's a military genius, but she's completely ignorant when it comes to people. She didn't realize until it was too late that nobody takes the General's whore seriously."
"I get it." Turbo's eyes widened. "Everybody assumed that she only made it to Major because you and her were..."
"And that killed any chance she had of another promotion, right then and there." Sten nodded grimly, chuckling. "I was a real asshole back then. Me and her probably deserved each other. You were the only one out of the three of us who was a decent guy."
"No," Turbo said firmly. "You were cold... but you weren't a psychopath like her. Maybe you could make the hard calls, but you never threw away our soldiers' lives like they didn't even matter. Like dying was what they were supposed to do."
"It's not much of a difference, Turbo," Sten pointed out.
"It's enough." Turbo shook his head. "If you'd been here, under Shupukay's leadership, you'd know. And the sick thing about it is, it's working. She gets our soldiers killed by the hundredfold, but she always wins, every single time. And her reputation for brutality... she's able to get more payment out of the people who hire us for our services than even you could. Highland's power in the world is rising, Sten, and it's all thanks to Shupukay."
"Huh." Sten frowned. "Eventually, though, we'll start running out of soldiers, though, won't we? When we do... somebody's going to have to do something about her. The general staff might be a bunch of spineless monkeys, but they won't let her drive our Clan all the way into extinction. If that looks like it's going to happen..."
You're not serious! Sana exclaimed in his mind, shocked.
I didn't say I liked it, Sten thought back. But it's not our problem. We can't just assassinate a General of Highfort. All I'm saying is that eventually, the problem will solve itself, even if nobody else does it first. I hope somebody would manage to bring her down before she kills too many other people, but even if nobody does...
"You think Shupukay doesn't know that, too?" Turbo demanded, voice rising. "She's already looking into other options, Sten."
"Other options?" Sten asked slowly.
"Lost technology," Turbo explained. "The same lost technology that this fortress is packed full of, from top to bottom. We understand how some of it works-the elevators, the engines, the teleporters-but we've never been able to actually replicate them, and there's still a lot of it that we have no idea how to operate. Shupukay claims that the future of our people lies in mastering the lost technology, and making it our Clan's strength."
"She'll never pull it off," Sten scoffed. "Highland has been trying to figure out that technology for hundreds of years now, ever since we built this damn place out of the ruins of Obelisk. You think we'll be able to replicate the work of a freakin' Goddess? We've never been able to get much further than we did right at the start."
"Shupukay's different," Turbo said flatly. "She's got a gift. And what's worse, she's talking about bringing in experts from Guntz. Builder Clansmen."
"Shit." Sten's thoughts raced. "People have suggested that before, but they never actually got it past the general staff. They weren't willing to risk revealing our secrets to another Clan. If Shupukay can float it, then maybe..." He paused. "You're not telling me everything, Turbo. What's the rest of the story?"
"Shupukay..." Turbo hesitated for a moment, then closed his eyes. "This is just a hunch, and you know how bad I am at those, but... ever since she's been getting interested in the lost technology... she's been trying to get the Princess into it as well. And Shupukay's not the sort of woman who does that to make friends with somebody."
"What?" Sten shot to his feet. Elforan? No! If she hurts her, I'll... His thoughts paused. Wait. I didn't have a flashback. I should have, when he mentioned her... why didn't I... no, figure that out later! "That's ridiculous! The Princess has no actual political power. None of the royal family have, for generations. She's a symbol, a figurehead. Why would Shupukay-"
"Shupukay-shupukay-shupukay-shupukay-shupukay!" The Major snarled, quick and measured, as she always did when agitated.
"Kuwadora, Kuwadora!" The false prince of Simafort, the Demon Lord Kuwadora, growled as he entered the banquet hall on the night when everything would be settled. It seemed to be a strange verbal tic of his, to repeat that word whenever he greeted anybody, but Sten had no idea what meaning, if any, it held.
"Oh," Sten whispered, as the zenny finally dropped, and he realized just how bad the situation was. "Oh, hell."
"I don't know what Shupukay's planning, but it's got to be something horrible," Turbo continued, not noticing. "The woman's a demon, Sten, and..." He paused. "Sten? What's wrong? Do you know what she's up to?"
"No, I don't." Sten shook his head, thoughts still racing. "But... you don't know how right you are. Shit! All these years, and she was..." He considered telling Turbo, but decided against it; his friend still believed in Ladon, he was sure, but suddenly claiming that Shupukay was an agent of Infinity would be too much, even for him.
Sten? Sana asked. What is it?
A Demon Lord, Sten explained. Shupukay's a Demon Lord. She's planning to conquer Highfort, just like Kuwadora was trying to in Sima, and she's been at it for nearly a decade now. Ever since she first showed up, claiming to be from out in the sticks, and enlisted... He shook his head. My head must be full of rocks. I should have figured out who the Demon Lord at Highfort was weeks ago. It's her. It was always her. This is not good.
"So, you finally realized just what she is, did you?" Turbo asked grimly, and for a moment Sten almost freaked out, before realizing Turbo had simply misunderstood what he was saying. "You're a few years too late, Sten. If the princess gets hurt because if this..."
"She won't," Sten promised. "Colonel Turbo, I'm representing the mercenary group Dragonkin, and we've come across some intelligence that indicates General Shupukay is acting contrary to the interests of your Clan and country. Should we be able to confirm our suspicions, would you be amenable to contracting our services in order to remove the problem, on behalf of your princess? I'll even forgo the discussion of pay until after the job's complete, just this once."
"Sten..." Turbo's eyes widened. "You mean..."
"We're shutting Shupukay down, here and now." Sten nodded sharply. "My people are in trouble. What can you tell me about that?"
"There were some intruders who Shupukay caught, before she told me you'd be coming, yesterday," Turbo recalled. "They were locked up in cell block D."
"All right, that's our first objective," Sten decided. "We'll free them, and then we'll deal with Shupukay. If you're right, we'll be able to figure out some legal precedent based on whatever she's planning with the Princess after the fact. Figurehead or not, if she's planning to endanger the Princess, that's still a count of high treason. Right now, we need to focus on taking her out, before she knows we're coming for her."
"Our second objective will be securing the Princess' life, then," Turbo corrected him, thinking quickly. "We'll never make it through to her chambers openly. All the guards stationed there are loyal to Shupukay. We'll have to take the secret passage." He narrowed his eyes. "Once we know she's safe, our third objective will be to take Shupukay out. The opposition consists of her, her loyalists, and the monsters in the lower reaches of the tower... we'll have to get through those to get to your friends."
"You still haven't cleared those out?" Sten joked half-heartedly. "Come on, man." Shaking his head, he continued. "On our side, we have you, me, and the guys. Not the best of odds... but we've both seen worse. Let's take formation P. You head up through the southeastern tower, and I'll go through the northeastern one. Once I bust the guys out, we'll rendezvous in the work area west of the Princess' chambers, and go from there."
"Roger." Turbo almost saluted him, but instead, simply held out his hand, and Sten shook it. "I'll see you there." He was about to walk away, but paused, glancing back. "Look, Sten..."
"Go," Sten told him firmly. "We don't have time. We'll talk more once the job's done." He grinned suddenly. "Just like always, right?"
"Heh." Turbo shook his head. "Yeah, just like always. Good luck." Without another word, he headed up the stairs in the corner of the room.
Sten cast a look at the statue of Ladon, nodded slightly, then left through the door and began making his way around the bridges over the water towards the northeast tower.
What was that about monsters? Sana asked as he entered the tower.
The lower levels of all the towers are infested with them, Sten explained, entering the door. There was no spring or statue here, simply a iron gate, barred and bolted. Undoing them, he slipped inside. We don't inhabit those floors anyways, so we keep them there as a sort of security system that doesn't actually require manpower. It's an old joke in the army, bitching that the guys in charge haven't "exterminated" them yet.
Will you be able to make it through by yourself? Sana asked.
It'll suck, Sten admitted. But I think I can manage.
As if to call him on that statement, a Death Bringer stepped around the corner. The humanoid skeleton with the lance was only a lure; it was actually being animated by the hideous blue equine monster whose back it rode on. The animal snorted, and then charged, lance lowered and aimed at his chest.
"Shit," Sten muttered, diving to the side at the last second. Scrambling on all fours, he lunged at the turning beast, and sliced into its belly with both daggers. Squealing, the monster stomped at him as the rider swiped at him with its lance, knocking him away. Skidding, Sten cast a fireball into the gaping wound, and the monster fell over, writhing in agony. A slash across its throat finished it, and the skeleton collapsed into a heap of bones.
Pretty good, Sana admitted as he walked on. Guess I should have expected it.
Actually, that went a little better than I thought it would, Sten admitted, flexing his right arm speculatively. Those things have pretty tough hides. I didn't really expect to be able to gut it on the first try like that.
Did you think Fusion was just for kicks? Sana scoffed. You've got improved physical strength now, thanks to me, just like Jean's magic ability is kicked up a notch. It's not quite as good as that loudmouthed Woren girl's Breath of Spirit, but it'll still come in handy.
Hey, not bad, Sten smirked. Should have done this a long time ago.
I told you that, didn't I? Sana purred, then grew serious. That's not all, though. I'm... finding things out about this I didn't know before. About being in your head. Like being able to understand your language, when you and others talk in it. I didn't know I'd be able to do that.
Probably because my head's not really a normal one, Sten guessed. Something's a little different about it now, though. Ever since I woke up again, I haven't been getting the flashbacks. Did... did you see those?
Yeah, I did, Sana admitted. That's what I wanted to talk to you about. When he mentioned that princess, one was coming, and I tried... and... what I'm saying is, I think I can block them. Stop them from coming.
Sten almost tripped over his own feet, at a very bad time to do so; a Pharaoh had just floated around the corner. Spherical undead wrapped in rotting blue bandages, their only features aside from the hideous faces on their fronts were the spindly arms extending from the sides, one of which held a magic scepter.
"Double shit," the Highlander hissed, throwing another fireball with one hand and a knife in the other. Leering at him even as it went down in flames, the monster spewed a blue wind from its rotting teeth, extinguishing the flames and covering Sten in ice. Hissing in pain, he hurled himself through it onto the undead abomination, and stabbed it over and over until its writhing ceased, despite the battering he was taking from its scepter.
Are you all right? Sana demanded, worried.
Nope, Sten admitted, creating a third fireball before him; it wasted some of his scant magical stores, but he knew he had to warm himself up quickly, before the ice on his fur gave him frostbite. But I had to kill that thing quickly. If it had managed to bite me, I would have been zombified, and that would have been all she wrote without somebody to cure it. Shaking himself, he walked on, keeping the fireball floating before him. What was that you were saying about blocking the flashbacks?
I don't know how, but... I think I can, Sana explained. As long as I'm in here. Do you want me to keep doing that?
Normally, I'd say no, Sten replied after a moment, walking past a humming engine on the other side of a barred gate; what it did, and why it was still running, was beyond him. I made my bed, and I should lie in it. My own fault, you know? But right now... He gritted his teeth. I hate to say it, but I don't think I can afford it right now. Yeah. Until we've got this situation taken care of... keep me stable, okay?
All right, Sana agreed, before her voice turned teasing. It's a good thing we agreed to keep this casual, or else we'd have to have a talk about our relationship once you were done here.
Oh, Ladon. Sten slapped his forehead, then froze as a pair of Raboolas stepped around a corner. Massive insect monsters, the bone-white beasts mostly resembled centipedes the size of horses, aside from their faces. There, below their two round, red faceted eyes, each Raboola had a humanoid skull attached to their maws. Like the Death Bringers, they scavenged those from corpses in order to incorporate death magic into their own bodies.
"Triple shit," Sten whispered, before turning and running. Behind him, he heard the Raboolas scurrying after him, and quickly ducked into a side room, one that had been unused for generations by the looks of it. Throwing himself flat against the wall, he pushed the Breath of Sands as far as it could go, dulling his breathing, his heartbeat, his body warmth, his magical aura, and everything else about him to a cold, flat emptiness barely capable of sustaining his life.
He remained there, consciousness flickering, until he was sure the Raboolas had gone past, far down the hall he'd come from. Only then did he relax, releasing the Breath of Sands, and returning to his normal state. Looking around, he realized he was in an abandoned armory; disused weapons and armor covered the walls. Most of them were too deteriorated to be much use, but there was one tiny, straight knife with a fine blade that he slipped into his wristband; it was small enough to be concealed entirely within it without being apparent.
Hey, that looks good, Sana pointed out as his gaze fell upon a black cloak. You could go for the Phantom of Highfort look.
Very funny, Sten thought sardonically as he took it down, then blinked. Behind it, a white-enameled, steel crescent-moon mask was hanging. After a moment, he chuckled ruefully. All right, fine. Who am I to argue with fate? Besides, it'll keep me from being recognized by anybody else, with luck. Putting both on, he crept back out into the hall, and continued upward.
The next hour was markedly unpleasant. Sten continued up the tower, first through disused halls, and then across metal scaffolding as he reached places where the stonework had actually given out, and the Highlanders had simply created a minimalist way through in case of emergencies rather than going to the trouble of repairing it. The rusty metal still bore his weight, but it creaked ominously, and he found himself glad that Bow and Jean weren't with him, let alone Rand.
Thinking of them, of course, hardly helped matters. He hadn't realized just how much he'd come to rely on the company of his team in the short time he'd known them until now, when he'd been separated from them. Ryu's relaxed competence, Bow and Jean's jovial good nature, Rand and Nina's quiet reliability, Katt's cheerful excitability... he even found himself missing Niro's senile antics. He'd only known them for a few months, but they were his team, and maybe even more than that. More than anything, it was the thought of them rotting in a cell above him that kept him going, through the darkness and the denizens within.
The monsters continued to plague him as he continued upward, both the undead monstrosities he'd already seen and more kinds just as nightmarish. Entire swarms of hellflies and bloated, living pollen infested some corridors, and flickering soul-spheres others. Once, a pair of Kimoto archers who'd apparently sneaked in attempted to snipe him from a fortified position; another time, a pharaoh bit him, and he was only saved by a teardrop-shaped vial of the Water of Life he'd found in an abandoned medical station.
The only good thing about the situation was that his memory of the tower's layout was still accurate, despite all the years since he'd been there. Beaten, battered and bloody but still standing, he limped onto a teleporter pad, a metal square with a flat dome topped by a glowing, violet eye of glass. More lost technology, the devices linked one location to another; how they worked, Sten had no idea, but he knew where this one led, and it was good enough for him.
"You seem unhappy, princess," a familiar voice echoed through the unused corridor he appeared in, and he froze; it was Shupukay. "Please, if you can... try to see things my way, won't you? The promised day has come. Finally, we will return this fortress of lost technology to its true form. With its power, the world will be ours! The people of Highland! And you will be the one to lead us into that glorious future!"
"I refuse," a younger, equally familiar, female voice said quietly but firmly. As soon as he heard it, Sten took off, bolting down the hall. "I may not be able to stop you, General, but nor will I be a part of this monstrosity. Did you actually think I would? Do whatever you desire, but you will have no help from me."
"'Monstrosity,' your highness?" Shupukay asked slyly, and Sten ran even faster; he knew that tone. "Such harsh words, coming from the leader of a military nation. We are a violent people by nature, your highness, and we always have been. Our kingdom and our Clan are a civilization built on the backs of the fallen, both those who fought against us and those of our own kind who laid down their lives for the good of all. Your entire life, and those of all your ancestors, have been standing on a foundation of blood. And you object to this on moral grounds?"
"We are mercenaries, that is true," Elforan, last descendant of the Highlander royal family, admitted quietly. "But we are not butchers, General Shupukay. All the world's powers come to us for our military might, and we have the freedom to choose among them. To this day, Highland has never fought in a war we did not believe in. We might fight and kill and die for money, General Shupukay... but we only do so in places and times in which doing so will make the world a better place. It may be a soldier's honor, but it is honor nonetheless."
The sound of a slap filled the air then, and Sten had to force himself not to scream in anger as he continued towards them, their voices growing louder.
"You are pathetically naïve, your highness," Shupukay said, quiet and cold. "Nearly your entire life has been spent within the walls of this castle. Even when you took your tour of duty with the 1st division, it was in name only; you learned to fight from the best instructors, and never actually set foot upon a real battlefield. Honor? Hah! Don't make me laugh, little girl. There is no honor in war. There is no good or evil. There is only you, and your enemy. The winner lives, and the loser dies. That is war, and that is what our country is. If you wish to 'honor' the fallen, remember that always."
"The old 'war is hell' speech, huh?" Sten said dramatically as he rounded the last corner, and found them standing face to face before another teleporter; apparently, Shupukay had brought her through it to speak privately to her. "Come on, Shupukay, can't you come up with anything new? I've heard that one so often I could probably quote it word for word."
"Who dares-" Shupukay startled to snarl, turning around, then froze. The years hadn't changed her much; she was a little more angular, her features a little harsher, but that was all. After a moment, she smirked. "Oh, there you are. For a while there, I thought you and Colonel Turbo had actually both killed each other. Wouldn't that have been amusing. It's been a long time, Sten. Nice outfit. Very dramatic."
"Sten?" Elforan whispered, peering over Shupukay's shoulder. Just seeing her made his heart twitch a little; she was still as quietly beautiful as ever, in a way entirely different from Shupukay's savage attractiveness. Like the General, she wore a wig, in her case a long orange one that matched her fur. The tiara atop it was thin and minimalist, and her pink gown, while pretty, was hardly an expensive one. Her soft, sky-blue eyes were wide as she stared at him. "Is it really you? But you're... they said you were..."
Oh, Sana murmured. Ohhhh...
"I'll explain later," Sten promised, speaking to both of them, though his eyes were on Shupukay. "Right now... it looks like my departure's made quite a mess around here, and I'm going to have to clean it up now that I'm back." He still had a pair of knives in hand, and he stepped forward, smiling without a trace of humor. "So, Shupukay. You thought that with me out of the way, you could just act like Miss Big and do whatever the hell you wanted around here?"
"Tough talk, coming from a deserter," Shupukay sneered, and Elforan gasped. "Oh, I'm sorry, your highness. Didn't you figure out how he managed to survive the Battle of Goonheim after all? Mr. Legacy is no longer a General. He's a deserter, and the sentence for such a crime is death, to be carried out immediately."
"Try it," Sten snarled, anger overriding his better judgment. "This monkey's gonna give you a spanking, Shupukay!"
"I think not." One of Shupukay's hands darted to a wall, and she pulled a lever, opening the floor beneath Sten's feet. "You are insignificant now. Farewell."
With a shouted curse, Sten fell into the darkness.
"Did anybody else hear that?" Katt asked, waking Ryu from his sleep.
"Hear what?" He muttered, rubbing at his eyes as he raised his head.
"Sounded like somebody cussing up a blue streak," Bow said, shaking himself as he stood. "Getting louder."
"I believe I can detect it as well, now," Spar agreed; it was indeed growing loud enough that all of them were beginning to hear it. "It appears to be in Highlandish, however. I must admit, I'm not exactly fluent in that tongue."
"Neither am I, but I can tell that kind of talk when I hear it, no matter what lingo it's in," Katt told it.
"She's got a point." Bow nodded.
"There is a certain rhythm and cadence to such a thing that is difficult to mistake for much else, no?" Jean added, yawning.
"Will you all just shut up?" Patty yelled. "I told you before, I can't sleep with all of you yammering! And who's the one who's-" She cut off with a pained grunt as the sound of a heavy impact overrode her speech, then whimpered a moment later, "Pain."
"What the hell?" Ryu muttered, running over to the bars. In the thief's cell, a Highlander wearing a dramatic black cloak and crescent-moon mask over his armor had landed right on top of her; apparently, he'd fallen from above. "Sten? Is that you?"
"Ow... chief?" Sten winced, turning his head this way and that. "She dropped me in the cells? Seriously? Well, that'll be convenient. Everybody here? Still on one piece?"
"Except for your landing pad, it seems," Nina murmured dryly. "But then, she's of secondary importance."
"I'll get you for that, Windfree," Patty moaned, still sounding pained.
"Huh?" Sten looked down for the first time, then leaped off the bunk as if it was on fire. "Gah! You!"
"Nice to see you again, too, furface," she growled, raising her head. "You going to open this cell up, or what?"
"You're just lucky I landed in yours," Sten snarked back, walking over and reaching his long arms through the bars and around the other side, so he could prod the keyhole with a new, tiny knife. "Only reason I'm letting you out. Let's see here... ah, here we go. Still have that little... trick..." A few moments of wiggling it later, the door swung open, and he stepped out, taking a few dramatic bows. "Ladies and gentlemen, your hero has arrived! Thank you, thank you!"
The combined glares of the entire group could probably have boiled a lake.
"Aheh... heh..." Sten chuckled weakly. "Right, opening these cells up."
"That would probably be a good idea," Spar said calmly as he began fiddling with the lock on the girls' cell.
"Not bad," Patty conceded, walking around him and stretching. "So, what took you so long, huh?"
"Personal business," Sten grunted, opening the cell and moving on to the guys' one.
"Shupukay?" Nina guessed.
"Yeah." Sten looked up and met Ryu's eyes. "Take it you guys already know, then."
"That she's a Demon Lord?" Ryu guessed as the door opened. "Yeah. Take it you've got history with her?"
"All sorts of history, but that's not important." Sten shook his head. "The problem is what she's planning now. She wants to activate all the lost technology of this place, and however she's gonna do it, it involves the last member of the royal family still alive. Princess Elforan." He closed his eyes. "I can't let that happen, boss. I know what a bad idea fighting a Demon Lord is, but... I'm gonna have to do it anyways. Sorry."
"Lost technology?" Patty's eyes widened, and then narrowed, as she picked up her whip from the cabinet next to the cells where all their weapons had been thrown into. "All right then, this isn't business any more. This is personal. I'm in."
"One of these days, you really are going to have to explain to us just what your stake in all this is," Rand grumbled, shaking his head. "You're right about one thing, though. This is bad news. Well, boss?"
"Sten's right." Ryu nodded slowly. "We can't let this one slide." He grinned suddenly. "Besides, having another royal family in our debt is worth taking a few risks, right?"
"Oh, this is gonna suck." Bow slapped his face. "No helping it, though."
"Perhaps, and yet, we must act according to our consciences, no?" Jean smiled brightly, though there was a certain glint in his eye. "And if there is a chance of profit as well, that is additional motivation, is it not?"
"You're learning, Jean." Katt grinned. "All right, why the hell not? If it's got a skull, we can bust it!"
"Logically, allowing a demon to gain control of the lost technology of Highfort would be disastrous," Spar mused. "I do not quite understand the distinction between demon and Demon Lord, but I must concur with the group assessment regardless. This cannot be tolerated. We shall have to take steps."
"I suppose, on the whole, it was too much to hope for that we'd actually be able to get through this without engaging her." Nina sighed. "The life of a mercenary, I suppose."
"Thanks, guys." Sten looked down for a moment, then raised his head, eyes gleaming. With a swirl of his cloak, he turned down the hall. "All right, people. Let's go save the day."
ON COLD WINGS SHE'S COMING