Okay, my beloved readers, there's quite a few new things I'm trying in this chapter. Most of you have probably noticed that I've tried to keep my use of magic to a minimum to now, but hey, now things are going to change. Also, I'm going to start changing a lot of the rules of the game (mainly about summoning in this chapter), and I have no regret in doing it, so don't critique me on it! Also, special thanks to Alta Vista's Babel Fish translation website for all the translations of my spells (in case you're wondering, all the spells are in German (Deutsch, baby!)). Anyways, here it is.
UPDATED NOTE: Icey the Fox is sorry for mistaking Ramuh with Ifrit, the situation has been resolved, thanks to several people pointing it out to me. Thank you, and please forgive my idiocy!
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"Alright, we'll probably be reaching the Plains today, so everybody have your weapons ready," Marche was ordering. "Diaghilev is dangerous, and his band is legendary for its speed and ferocity. Granted we're good, but don't anybody get arrogant."
It was morning, and they were eating a quick breakfast of jerky and bread before setting out for the day. They'd been on the road for six days, and were quickly approaching the Giza Plains, the rumoured hideout location of Diaghilev Godeye. Currently, they were just reaching the fringes of the Koringwood, and the trees were starting to thin out into the tall grasslands.
"We're ready for anything, Marche," Montblanc promised. He had abandoned his favoured comfortable clothing, and had switched to a set of black robes and a tall black hat, the combination of which robbed the moogle of his casual look and left in its place a much more frightening and serious one. He clasped a long obsidian rod in his hand which held a constant glow within its length.
"I know you guys are, I just like to make sure. Now, as for our guests," he turned to Isaac, Ben and Eileen. "What will the three of you be doing?"
"How do you mean?" Eileen asked.
"Well, the three of you could help us out with the battle, if you wish. But we don't expect you to; it's not your job."
"Are you kidding?" Ben asked. "What the bloody hell are we supposed to do? Wait around for you guys to come back?"
"I'm warning you in advance, all three of you, and especially Eileen, seeing as you're more likely to face another magic-user: Diaghilev is an extremely powerful Alchemist. He's also rumoured to have a third eye, and if that's true then the odds are extremely good that he already knows that we're coming."
"No problem, kupo," Isaac muttered. "We work best in those situations. Whenever we plan something, we normally regret it in the morning."
"Okay then," Marche said. He climbed on top of his chocobo and drew his knightsword. "Let's roll. Montblanc, Jocelyn and Isaac, tell us if you hear anything."
"Why us three, kupo?" Isaac asked Montblanc as they got going.
"We're moogles and vierra," Montblanc shrugged. "Big ears."
Isaac nodded, not even wondering about why he hadn't included Lindsay. That girl had some issues. At least with Jocelyn, you could be sure that she was listening. Lindsay just seemed as though she'd forgotten that everything existed.
They walked or rode along as they normally did, but with much less conversation and much more clinking of armour and weapons. Isaac, for one, had a bullet loaded into each gun, and he had borrowed a travelling cloak from Montblanc to conceal his blade. He looked about at all of the others. Apart from Montblanc, none of them had changed their appearances dramatically. Robert had added a knightsword to his belt, much older and much less sharp than Marche's, but still reliable. Caitlin had put on a shirt of chainmail and a helmet whose visor she wore lowered. Guinness now carried a staff with him, Jocelyn had her katana and a greatbow with her, and Lindsay, well, Lindsay just walked along, oblivious to everything.
As the day progressed, eventually all conversation died out. The going slowed, mainly due to the horrible design of the road. The road was in fact lower than the normal terrain, which meant that it was much more prone to getting muddy and flooded, and it had rained the day before. The long grass around them didn't give much of a view, nothing but rolling plains for miles. Late in the day, Isaac found himself walking along behind Marche, who was acting as side guard for the wagon, and beside Robert. He was thankful that the strong bangaa was there, for there were places in which somebody as small as a moogle couldn't possibly go on, and at those moments Robert would simply pick him up and carry him, seeing as he weighed barely anything.
As he trudged along through the muck, Isaac found his head beginning to droop. He'd been on the last watch the night before, so he was exhausted. He quickly shook his head and got his focus back, being sure to just keep on walking. He looked up at the sun, perfectly bright after the rain the day before, and sighed. At least it wasn't sweltering anymore. He would have preferred being somewhere near to the coast again (Ben's suggestion of Baguba came to mind), but he wouldn't complain.
Isaac brought his head back down to the road ahead, and had to consciously prevent himself from asking Rob or Marche, "Are we there yet?"
He let his gaze drop down to his feet, and watched them taking their steps. Well, you very rarely heard about this sort of thing in the Final Fantasy video games. On those, they normally just had an airship or took some sort of extremely advanced form of public transport. Like in Final Fantasy VII, where they took that train thing. What was it called again? It didn't matter, he decided. He was here so he might as well keep walking, keep walking, keep walking…
He gazed out from the tall grass. There they came, the ones they had been waiting for. He tried to focus his power to see which one was their leader, the great Marche, but he found his vision kept slipping to the moogle who was plodding along behind the paladin on the chocobo. He was picking up information from him that was strange, that he wasn't used to… Ah, yes. That must be it. He smirked. Well then, let him see what was going to happen. There was nothing he could do about it. The moogle, whose name he suddenly detected was something with an I… Igor? Ivan? Ian? No, Isaac, that was it. Well, that moogle didn't even have a weapon with him. So let Isaac see it in his helplessness. He assumed that the paladin was the Marche, from all physical descriptions. He looked over at his sniper, and nodded to her, giving her permission to do her work. She lined up a shot at Marche's head. The nu mou smirked and thought, Have fun watching, Isaac…
"Isssssaac?" Rob asked, shaking him out of his reverie.
"Wha…?" Isaac muttered, looking up suddenly.
"You zoned out there," Rob told him, but Isaac wasn't even listening. He was staring into the bushes.
Then Isaac saw it.
A glint, probably from the tip of an arrow.
On instinct more than anything, Isaac threw his left hand out wide to open his cloak and give his arm enough space to reach his Longbarrel. He whipped it out,pointed it and,without thinking, pulled the trigger.
Three noises seemed to happen all at once, though really, they were each one right after the other. Here's the exact order:
Isaac's gun fired, letting out its mechanic clank.
A yelp emitted from the bushes.
A bowstring twanged.
And then an arrow flew from the grass, smacking into the wagon not an inch from Marche's head.
"HOLYMOTHEROFMATEUS!" Marche yelled in shock, but he was already jumping off of his chocobo's back and drawing both his knightsword and his shield.
Instantly, everybody had their weapons out, and they were facing the trees from which the shot had come from. Jocelyn, before anybody could stop (or do anything more than notice) her, had drawn her katana noiselessly and slipped into the trees.
"Everybody form up around the mages!" Marche roared, and Isaac found that he couldn't even begin to question the order. He found himself between Ben and Caitlin in a tight ring around Montblanc, Eileen, Guinness and Lindsay (who didn't seem to have noticed).
They stood there, waiting for any other movement or shot, the tension building up around them. At the slightest rustle of leaves, they would all turn and Isaac's gun would be pointing. After about five minutes of this, Jocelyn stepped almost perfectly silent out of the trees, making her way over.
Isaac, however, didn't see her, but heard her first, and he pointed his gun and pulled the trigger without thought. Jocelyn, in an incredibly quick motion, simply stepped to the side as the bullet flew by.
"Wow, kupo," Isaac muttered. She'd just dodged a shot from a Longbarrel!
"Tracks," she said simply, leaning her head back towards the tiny trees and acting as though she hadn't just dodged a bullet. "Heading north. One nu mou, one vierra. Going fast. I followed them for a while, found a set of wagon tracks, continued north, a bit east."
"Alright," Marche said, nodding, "thanks. I think we've found Diaghilev. Ben, how good are you at tracking?"
"Excellent, to be modest."
"Isaac?"
"My ears are sharp, kupo, but I can't say the same about my eyes."
"Okay. Jocelyn and Ben, you guys take the point, if you find anything, don't act!" He said this, looking at Jocelyn as though it were a common problem. "Come back and report to me first, and then we'll take the place down as a team. Remember: don't anybody make a move before somebody drops a judgepoint. All we need is another conviction against us."
Jocelyn and Ben nodded, then the two drew their curved swords and took off into the tall grasses and bushes, neither of them making a single sound. Marche then turned to the remaining seven members of the group, and told them, "I want everybody ready for an attack. As little talking as possible. Cait, you're on the left, Rob, the right, Eileen, you go with Rob, Montblanc, you're with Cait, and then Guinness and Lindsay, you… Lindsay? Lindsay!" She shook her head and looked over at him as though she had just realised he existed (which she probably had). "Okay, Lindsay, you stick with Guinness. Guinness is the nice nu mou in white robes next to you right now. No, that's Montblanc, on your other side. Right. Okay, Guinness, just stick in the middle, and make sure she doesn't wander off. Isaac, you and I are taking the lead. Your guns loaded?"
"They are now," Isaac said, closing the latch to the ammo dock.
"Good. Alright, get in to your places, and let's roll."
They advanced slowly through the trees and grass. Each one tried at the beginning to be quiet, but after Lindsay once again stumbled, they figured it was pointless. There was still very little conversation betweenthem, but occasionally they did break out into small words.
"Hey Isaac," Marche asked at one point, his voice so soft the moogle's sharp ears could barely pick it up. "Thanks for saving me earlier."
"No problem, kupo. You've done the same for me."
"I was meaning to ask you something. How did you know that shot was coming? I mean, there's no way that you managed to outdo Jocelyn."
"Why do you say that, kupo? I'm pretty good."
"Sorry to disappoint you, but nobody outdoes Jocelyn at this sort of thing."
"Well, to tell the truth, I think that I'd like to talk to a mage about it."
"I know some magic myself," Marche offered. "I mean, I have conversed with Mateus as one of his greatest servants. Not to brag, of course."
"Well then I guess this won't seem too weird," Isaac muttered. "Listen me out. I think I fell asleep as I was walking, and suddenly, it was like I was Diaghilev for a minute. I could see him and, and feel him, kupo, and at the same time, he was seeing and feeling me, and he knew my name, just by looking at me, kupo! He was trying to see you, but he kept having to look at me. Then he told a sniper to shoot you, and thought, 'Have fun watching, Isaac'. That's when Rob woke me up and I saw them in the bushes seeing me. I saw the arrow, kupo, and then I reacted."
"Wow," Marche told him. "We would not be having this conversation back home, would we?"
"I doubt it. So what do you think, kupo?"
"You guys can ask Diaghilev," Ben said as he dropped down next to the two from the low trees. Isaac jumped back with a surprised, "Kupo!", but Marche simply turned to look at him and nod, not in the least caught off guard.
"Where is he?"
"They're camped probably five hundred metres ahead."
"And where's Jocelyn?"
"No idea."
"Darn it," Marche muttered. "We'd better act fast. How many?"
"I'd say at least twenty."
"Great, two each. Do the three of you think you can keep up with that?"
"Sorry, kupo, but I tend to like going into a fight when the odds are with me."
"Oh, if you must," Marche looked back at Lindsay. "Looks like she's going to get some work on this one. Let's roll, then."
Their group, nine of them with Jocelyn missing, quickly headed forward into the underbrush. Now they were quiet, attempting to keep the element of surprise for as long as possible in the closed area. About four hundred fifty metres later, and they could hear the sounds of the camp, all preparing for battle. Marche looked back at Lindsay, and after several attemptsmanaged to catch her eye and nodded, then drew a judgepoint. Taking a deep breath, he stood up straight and threw the card into the air, crying above the sounds of the camp, "I declare an engagement!"
Instantly there was a roar of surprise and rage from the camp, and Marche yelled, "Down!", throwing himself to the ground as a few arrows flew by overhead. Everybody else followed his suit quickly, aside from Lindsay, who simply stood there as the hail went by her remarkably without hitting her.
Isaac turned to Marche, about to ask him whether he should knock her down, but the young commander shook his head, and instead ordered, "Leave her there, she can take care of herself. Just try to take out a few of their archers." Isaac nodded to him and started belly crawling closer to the camp for a better view, but Marche grabbed his foot and warned him, "Oh, and don't get too close. Things are about to get really hot in here."
Shrugging, Isaac simply stood up, realising that he simply had to crouch to be mostly covered by the tall grass. Taking a deep breath, he straightened fully and took in the situation below him. He had an instant to see the small camp with a wagon on the outskirts and a small campfire in the middle before he had to duck to dodge the four or five arrows that came at him. Stunningly, none of the arrows hit Lindsay once again.
"How does she do that, kupo?" Isaac demanded.
"Luck, more than anything. She's been taken down once or twice while doing this, but… oh, crap, they're sending their warriors forward."
Isaac turned and saw that Marche was right and that indeed a few soldiers had begun advancing on their position. Gritting his teeth, Isaac drew his blade and waited.
Fortunately, his waiting was all in vain, for at that moment, Lindsay's back suddenly straightened, and she opened her eyes and mouth. That was an impressive sight, to say the least. Her eyes burned with fury, and not metaphorically. They were literally on fire, with flames leaping out at the sky. The same thing was happening with her mouth as her feet slowly left the ground and she began hovering a couple feet above the ground. An arrow came in at her chest, but it instantly burst into flames when it got near her. The sky dimmed and wind gathered about her, tugging at her hair and clothes as she took in deep breaths, then she looked straight down at the archers, who had all stopped in wonder.
"Komm Ifrit!" she cried, pointing at them with both hands.
Instantly, the wind which had been gathered around her whipped away from her, sending a sweltering blast of heat over all of Clan Nutsy, Isaac, Ben and Eileen. Then, down from the clouds, descended a great and terrible figure: A red minotaur, holding a great powerful hammer in his hand, and wreathed in flames. The bull's head with its eyes filled with fire and wisdom looked down at where the summoner was pointing, and raised his hammer into the air.
Instantly, a great pillar of flames rushed down from the sky and onto the encampment. Before any of the rangers gathered throughout the camp could even scream, they were caught up in the inferno and incinerated.
There was silence for a moment as everybody stared at what was left of the camp. Namely, a large black scorch on the ground. The sky had cleared again, Lindsay had collapsed to the earth from exhaustion, and the great horned figure had disappeared. Isaac said under his breath, "Hot damn, kupo."
"Literally," Marche muttered. "This is why we keep her around."
"Incoming!" Robert roared, rushing past them from out of nowhere. His spear rushed forward as a fighter who'd managed to sneak up without Isaac or Marche noticing rushed right back at him just as fast. The two met, and the fighter's two blades flashed upwards, knocking the speartip dangerously high. Robert, however, simply let go of the spear and took the last few steps forward and drove his fist upwards into a devastating uppercut which lifted the human off his feet and through the air several metres back. As the unfortunate fighter landed, totally out cold, Robert twirled around and caught his spear, spinning it around his hand until it was comfortably at his back, with the tip pointing at the ground to the left.
"Nice work," Marche complimented.
"Shall we get to work?" the young bangaa asked his partners.
"Duck!" Caitlin screamed at him. Robert complied just in time for a broadsword to not cleave through his spine. Montblanc took a step forward and pointed with his staff, crying out, "Blitzra!"
Electricity reached out from his staff in two clawed fingers and smashed the broadsword-wielder in the face, throwing him backward and spasming in agony. Caitlin rushed up in the wake of the lightning, squaring off with the next in the line of fighters coming at them.
"Gentlemen," Marche said in a dull way which reminded Isaac a good deal of Captain Rolf, "let's roll."
Marche exploded into sudden motion, flying forward with his knightsword grasped tightly in his right hand and his shield in his left. He went right past Caitlin, who was swinging her sword with amazing speed and grace at her opponent and scoring dozens of small hits, and met up with his first opponent: a vierra with a rapier. She thrust quickly, hoping to turn Marche's speed against him, but he literally slapped the rapier away with his shield and drove his weapon through her stomach. Not even stopping, he took another quick step to the side, spinning to hack right through a mog knight's shield and then bringing his shield out to smack the moogle in the face. He spun back to his former position, where two enemies were waiting for him. They each slashed, but Marche blocked both attacks with shield and knightsword, throwing the stabs up high. Suddenly, he knelt and drove his sword into the ground, muttering something that couldn't be heard. Instantly, light exploded from him and knocked the two warriors flying back to the ground, where they stopped and didn't get up.
"Holy crap," Ben muttered as he walked up beside Isaac. "Do you think that we're a bit out of our league?"
"Only a bit, kupo," Isaac responded, watching as the clan drove right through the centre of the fighting force which outnumbered them three to one. "Shall we join in?"
"I should say so."
The two joined the charge of the great clan, blade and sabre slashing with bloody execution. Isaac simply hacked at heels and knees, trying to trip enemies up for the others to take down more easily. Ben, for his part, eventually just sheathed his katana and began using his blue magic to its full extent, biting, clawing and roaring as they went.
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Eileen watched all this at the back with Guinness and Lindsay, throwing in an occasional spell every now and again. She glanced casually over at Guinness. "How much work do you actually get to do with this group?"
"They can not always simply overpower every foe," the old white mage informed her. "So, I actually get a good deal of practise here. Though I must say, the company is a bit lacking during battles. Montblanc is always right in beside the others, acting like he can take a thousand hits and continue battling. It would be nice to have another mage back here, at least for my own protection."
"Too late to feel regretful for that," said a voice from behind them.
The two spun to meet Diaghilev Godeye straight in his face. He wore the long cloaks of an alchemist, except that the eye on his hat was, much like Ezel's, made of gold.
Why do all the powerful alchemists go mad? Eileen wondered. However, she simply said, "Greetings, Diaghilev Godeye." They were the words which all alchemists had to say to each other before a duel, and Eileen knew them well. "Unfortunate though it may be that we two are on opposite sides of this coin, the battle rages still."
The much more experienced and much older alchemist stared at her, saying, "Greetings, young Eileen Mindclear." Eileen winced at the use of her official name as an alchemist. It was a double-entendre which the council had made up for her, both for her clear head in tense situation and love of meditation, as well as to suggest that she wasn't actually as smart and clever as she seemed. "The battle rages, and we two flip the coin."
"Are you ready for this?" Guinness demanded quietly from behind her.
"This isn't the first duel I've had," she said, pulling the brim of her hat low so that the white eye on its band was more visible.
"Yes, but have you ever had a battle against one who possessed both an official Third Eye and who just so happened to have the Third Eye?"
"No, in that respect this will be very new," Eileen admitted.
"Great," the white mage sighed. "I'll heal you when I can."
"Thanks."
With that, Diaghilev and Eileen began circling each other. Each nu mou's eyes never left the other's, looking for any kind of stress or calculation in them. They were each waiting for the first move.
Once they'd made one full circle, Diaghilev said, "You realize that none of your friends will come to save you."
"They won't need to," Eileen shot back, her eyelids not fluttering.
"Well, in that case," the other alchemist sighed, then his eyes became hard as steel and he pointed, crying out, "Sie sterben!"
Eileen gasped at the sound of the words, and instantly gathered all of her magical power to her soul, surprised that he would use as powerful a spell as Death to open. It tugged hard at her soul string, trying to pull it away or extinguish it, but Eileen forced all of her energy to stave off its coldness. The sensation passed, and she shuddered, though her eyes never left those of Diaghilev.
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Isaac was hacking away with his blade when he felt a sudden weariness which he couldn't resist. Instantly, he fell to the ground, realising that he would probably die right about now.
She gasped at the sound of the words, and instantly gathered all of her magical power to her soul, surprised that he would use as powerful a spell as Death to open…
"What?" Isaac demanded even as he woke an instant later. That was definitely one of the shortest dreams he'd ever had. But what could it mean? Just by fluke more than anything, Isaac turned and saw the two alchemists engaged in their duel. "Oh."
He turned to the others, and cried out as loud as he could, "We've got a problem, kupo!"
Unfortunately everybody was so filled with battle lust that only Cait, who was hanging back, heard him. She turned and saw, then said, "Dammit. Let's go!"
The two broke off from the rest of the group and headed back towards the hill, realising that the others would never hear them. As they began their approach, they heard somebody yell, "Now!" and five more soldiers rushed out from the trees at them.
"Where does he keep getting these guys, kupo?" Isaac demanded as the two kept running towards the crowd.
"He's rich, he can do these sorts of things. Here, get on my shoulders!" she ordered. Isaac complied, leaping and flapping up. "Get to them. I'll hold these five."
Isaac nodded, then realising that she couldn't see him, said, "Alright, kupo."
Caitlin ran the last couple steps, then swung her sword at the small crowd, crying out, "Go!"
Isaac jumped.
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"Good," the alchemist said, "you can fend off a powerful status effect spell. Now let's see how you deal with da—"
"No," Eileen snapped, "let's see how you deal with it. Giftig!"
Green gas rose from the ground at his feet, drifting up to his nostrils. However, strangely, he stopped breathing. He simply stopped breathing, and smiled at her. Then, he raised a hand and the gas drifted away.
"Clever," he said, "catching me off guard. Well, it seems as though this is going to come down to a simple beat down. Let me begin. Mete—"
Eileen, recognizing the first two syllables of the spell and realising that she couldn't possible dodge, stop or survive it, raised a hand and cried, "Wasser!"
A ball of water flew forward and hit the nu mou in the face, making him cough and swallow his words even as they came out. Once he could speak again, he laughed.
"Is that the best that you can do for damage? Simply stealing the abilities of the sages?" the Alchemist shook his head in disgust. "However, you'll have to excuse me for a moment."
With that, he spun and pointed, apparently into the sky and cried, "Sie sterben!"
This time, Eileen saw the dark ripple rushing through the air. It leaked into a figure which was flying through the air, which let out a surprised, "Kupo!". Then, there was a horrible sucking noise, and as Isaac hit the ground his blade fell from his limp grasp and he rolled over, dead.
"Sorry about that," Diaghilev said, sighing. "It is so annoying when people try to interrupt a duel."
"Bastard," Eileen spat.
"At times. Now, show me what you can do."
Eileen raised her hands, and screamed, "Auflackern!", at the exact same moment as Diaghilev. They each threw themselves to the side as the earth exploded and two pillars of flame rose into the sky. Eileen got back to her feet and turned just in time to see Diaghilev swing his mace and crack it over the head of the undefended Guinness, throwing him to the ground. She gritted her teeth. This was beginning to annoy her.
She threw another water attack at him, but Diaghilev managed to knock the ball of water away with his mace (it actually reminded her a good bit of baseball). Diaghilev yelled something that Eileen didn't catch, and green gas rose around her. Without a thought, she cried out without pausing for that fatal breath, "Luft!"
The winds whipped around her violently, buffeting her painfully, but the poison was instantly dispersed. She took a deep breath, panting in exertion and pain, but her eyes had yet to leave those of Diaghilev's.
"Ah, very nice improvisation," Diaghilev said. "You know, if you ever wish to earn a Third Eye, you ought to learn the proper counters for all the alchemist spells. Not to mention, it will also help you stay alive in the more dire situations."
"Like right now?" Eileen responded, arching an eyebrow.
"This? Dire?" the alchemist laughed. "I haven't even gotten started yet."
"Really? Then get started. Auflackern!"
The ground rumbled with built up heat beneath Diaghilev Godeye, and he simply smiled, pointing his hands down at the ground, muttering something under his breath. Eileen felt the massive flow of energy going from her to the spell cut out, and with it the rumbling ended.
"You want me to get started?" he asked, smiling devilishly. "Fine then."
He pointed, and cried out, "Energie Abfluss!"
The breath left Eileen and she fell to her knees as she felt all of her energy fly away from her. Her magic…
"You're very good, Mindclear," Diaghilev admitted. "Especially for a novice. I'm very surprised that you haven't been promoted to the position of master, or even Third Eye yet. But then again, the council has always been somewhat biased. It's been an honour to do battle with you. But now, unfortunately, I'll have to bid you adieu."
He pointed at her, and suddenly his voice lowered several decimals and he called out, "Meteorit!"
For the second time that day, the sky dimmed and fire appeared in it, this time enshrouded around a great lump of rock as it plummeted through the air, directly at her. Eileen closed her eyes, and the massive meteorite crushed her.
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Caitlin knocked the sword of her last opponent out far to the side, delivered a punch to his jaw,then quickly ran him through to the hilt. She sighed and shook her head, looking at the five bodies littered around her. She caught her judgepoint and stepped forward, reaching into one of her deeper pockets for a bandage. She wrapped it around a large gash in her left arm, securing it to stop the bleeding. Her foot hit something, and she stumbled unsteadily. She quickly looked down, and sighed as she saw Isaac's body, totally unmarked by weapons. Well, apparently their plan hadn't worked. She continued on, and found Lindsay lying on the ground, though after a quick check she determined that the vierra was simply exhausted, not dead. Next to her lay Guinness, who had a large bruise rising on his head. He'd definitely had a nasty run-in with Diaghilev.
Finally, Caitlin stepped forward and saw two things: Eileen's blackened corpse, still smouldering from the meteor impact, and Diaghilev, standing there panting. He looked up at her as she approached.
"Well," he gasped, "I doubt that I can take down your entire clan, but I guess you're next."
Caitlin drew her sword in a flash of scraping steel, the ribbon fluttering in the wind, but she didn't need to. Even as the blade began appearing from the depths of the sheath, Jocelyn jumped forward, from apparently nowhere, and reached an arm around Diaghilev's neck. Shadows gathered around that hand, shaping into a curved and wicked knife. As the alchemist's eyes widened in shock, the skilled assassin drove the shadowy knife up through his neck and into his brain. The light instantly left his eyes, and he collapsed to the ground, dead.
"Nice timing," Caitlin commended.
"You provided the distraction," Jocelyn quickly responded.
"Too bad you didn't get here a bit faster," Caitlin lamented, looking down at Eileen.
"I was here. It looked like she could take him."
"Apparently not. Is he the last one?"
"Should be."
Even as the assassin finished saying this, a white light enveloped Eileen, and her skin began regaining its normal colour and her light grey fur grew back in. Caitlin sighed and pulled off her bandage, watching the skin fold over the cut. This was the best part of any engagement.
Eileen's eyes opened wide, and she quickly rolled over to her feet in a standing position. "What happened?"
"I flattened and burned you," Diaghilev told her as he stood up. Caitlin promptly punched him in the face as Jocelyn grabbed his arms, twisting them behind his back so that he couldn't move.
"Thanks," Eileen said to Caitlin.
"Anytime."
"Uh," Isaac said, walking up, "I refuse to jump at people from other people's backs anymore. It always ends badly, kupo." He rubbed the fur on the back of his neck, and looked up. His eyes caught those of Diaghilev, and held them. "Are you Godeye?"
"Yes. You're Isaac?"
"Yes. Would you mind telling me something?"
"What? Why I was reading your mind earlier?"
"Er, yes, kupo."
"Because you were reading mine, and that was somewhat rude."
"Ah…"
"I'm assuming your next question is why you were reading my mind."
"That would be nice to know, kupo."
"There are more than one kind of Third Eye."
"Okay, excuse me if I butt in," Eileen said, "but I think I speak for everybody here when I ask what in the name of Ultima are you two talking about?"
"I'm not sure myself, kupo. What do you mean by Third Eye?"
"I mean that you've got a special version of the Third Eye. I have an unparalleled need for specific information, so powerful that my subconscious mind can project images of it to me. Your mind, however, feeds off of relationships. Your subconscious brings you information based on those you have a strong emotional connection with, particularly while they're in periods of high emotional stress or high danger. I'm assuming that that means, quite often, your friends. The reason you managed to read my mind is because, well, that the attentions of people with the Third Eye tend to be attracted to each other."
"Er, yeah, kupo."
"Wait a minute," Eileen yelled, breaking the mystique of the moment, "You managed to figure all that out after reading his mind (I'm still trying to get over that part) for not even one minute?"
"Yep."
"Wow, I'm impressed."
"What can I say. I like information. Either way," Diaghilev said, "I guess you guys are arresting me?"
"Yes," Jocelyn said.
"And you'll probably break both of my arms if I try to escape?"
"Yes," Jocelyn said.
"Okay, then. Tie me up."
"First things first." Caitlin walked forward, drawing her sword. A look of concentration crossed her face, and her sword was coated by a dull red light. She swung it right through Diaghilev, apparently not cutting anything. However, as soon as she was done, the nu mou slouched. "The prisoners don't get to use magic."
"Shall we take him down to Marche?" Guinness asked as he came up.
They didn't have to, however, for a moment later, Marche, Robert, Montblanc and Ben showed up, leading a group of several dozen prisoners behind them.
"Well, everybody's accounted for," Marche was saying. "We got those five back there. The only person missing is Diaghilev…" he stopped, looking at Jocelyn holding the nu mou. "Oh, well then. I guess we've succeeded in our mission. Nice work, everyone."
Ben walked up to Isaac and whispered quietly to him, "What all did I miss?"
"Apparently I can read minds."
"Really?"
"Yeah, kupo."
"Sweet. We found a prisoner down at their camp. A gladiator."
Even as Ben said it, the ragged bangaa walked up. There were shadows in his eyes and scars on his heavily-muscled body. He had a haunted look to his face, but the thing that truly caught and held one's attention were his eyes: completely dulled and emotionless. He had a limp as he walked.
"This is Pallanza, everybody," Marche addressed his clan. "He's going to be travelling with us from now on."
"Sure thing, sir," Jocelyn said.
"Y-y-you," the bangaa stuttered, and stopped as everybody looked at him, cringing. "You're not going to make me fight, will you?"
"Nobody's going to make you fight if you don't want to, Pallanza," Marche told him reassuringly.
"I don't want to fight. I don't want to. I don't want to go to the sssssssssstadiumssss anymore."
"You won't have to."
"They were going to make me fight him. They were going to make me fight Maxwell."
"Don't worry, you're not going to—"
"Wait," Ben said suddenly, and the curious expression on his face was shared perfectly by Isaac and Eileen. "Did he say Maxwell?"
Pallanza cringed and hid his face in his hands upon hearing the name. "Not that one! Not the Dragoon!"
"Don't worry about the dragoon, you're not going to fight him," Marche said, flashing Ben a warning look and telling him, "Don't mention that name around him."
"But we need to know—"
"He's not the only one who knows about it," Marche told him, flashing his eyes over towards Diaghilev, who was watching this with an amused curiosity.
Nodding, Ben turned around and grabbed the alchemist's now-bound hands, lifting him up to his feet and forcing him to walk ahead of him, with Isaac and Eileen in his wake.
Once the four of them had gone several metres into the trees, Ben threw the hapless alchemist to the ground. He started pushing himself up, but Ben placed a foot on his back and forced him back down to the dirt.
"Where were you going to meet Max?"
"We were never going to meet Maxwell!" Diaghilev said taunting.
"Don't try us," Ben said. "We need to know how to get to him."
"Why is that?"
"We're asking the questions, here," Eileen said.
"Well, if you won't tell me, I'll have to find out for myself." Diaghilev looked directly at Isaac then, and the moogle felt him pushing his way into his mind. He fought to keep him out, but the nu mou blew right through the pitiful defences, reaching directly to the core of his knowledge.
Realizing what was going on, Eileen stepped forward and dealt Diaghilev a slap across the face, shattering his concentration, but not fast enough.
"Ah, another friend of yours? Well, I can't tell you where he is, then. The three of you are strong enough on your own already."
Ben's sabre was suddenly underneath his chin, cutting a bit into the skin. "Do. Not. Try. Us."
Diaghilev laughed and looked the blue mage in the eye. "You wouldn't."
"No, not first, at least," Ben said. "First, I'd probably take your left hand, then the right, so that you couldn't direct your spells anymore, then your feet, so you couldn't walk, and assuming you wouldn't talk after that, I'd cut your throat, but not enough to kill you, only enough to permanently damage your vocal chords so you couldn't talk. Now, tell us."
"No."
Ben whipped his sabre around so that it lay against the top of the nu mou's left wrist. "Won't tell us?"
"No."
Isaac winced as Ben's sabre sunk about a centimetre through the skin. Diaghilev screamed.
"Where is he?" Ben asked as he stopped his sabre.
"Jagd Dorsa!"
Ben pulled his sabre away, and, after wiping the blood off on the ground, sheathed it. He quickly grabbed up Diaghilev again and dragged him back to the camp, with Isaac and Eileen following.
………………………………………………………………………………………………
The next morning, before anybody else had even awoken, Isaac, Ben and Eileen were already walking. They weren't on the path this time. It was a week's journey to Dorsa in the most direct path, and with the one week return journey and the further one week it would take them to get all the way to Cyril, they had to be fast. They carried only their weapons and a pack of food each, all of it light and filling so it would last.
After they'd returned, they'd announced their desire to go to Jagd Dorsa. Marche had begged them to reconsider, but after they'd refused to change their decision, he'd announced that he couldn't help them. He simply couldn't risk his clan members' lives on such a dangerous mission. None of them blamed him. It took all of their courage at every moment not to turn back, knowing exactly what lay before them: a land where judges couldn't be summoned, where death was a common occurrence. However, not one of them really found it difficult to continue on. Their need to help Maxwell was far too powerful.
They didn't talk to conserve their breath so they could move quickly. In one week they would be in hell.
In one week, they would see Maxwell again.