IceBlade28: It's been a long road, but we've all arrived at one of the biggest milestones of this fanfic. Twenty-five chapters, one-hundred and eighty-one reviews, and over ten thousand hits later, here we are. Give yourselves a hand, all of you!
Serra: I'm so proud of you all.
IceBlade28: It's an emotional time, yes, but we won't spoil it with sappiness. We see enough of that in your love life.
Serra: Hey! That was uncalled for!
IceBlade28: Oh shoosh. Priscilla? The review of last chapter, s'il vous plait.
Priscilla: Of course, Taylor. Will do!
Previously, on Person's Unknown . . .
--
Rebecca stood up, grinning from ear to ear and darn ready for Raven to dish out the 'thank you' she was owed. Raven paused for a moment before he stabbed his dead enemy.
"Well, that's another kill for me." said Raven. Rebecca was gobsmacked.
"What the- after everything I did?!" she screeched.
"He was twitching." Raven said smugly.
"He was not!
"Yes he was."
"Was not!"
--
The Crimson Shield cut the wyvern again and again, finally burying his sword in the creature's ribs. Kent stared at her before fading in a mist of red smoke. The sword had slipped away as well, vanishing like a saving weapon of phantasmagorical origin. A Deus Ex Machina save from beyond the grave.
Fiora shook her head. Had Kent really slain that wyvern? Was it some kind of near-death hallucination?
--
Lyn shifted on the couch and placed a hand to her head; she had a killer migraine.
"How long was I unconscious?" she asked. X shrugged.
"About three hours. It's hard to tell with the storm outside," he said. "I carried you to the cabin, closed every door and lit the fire." Lyndis shuddered violently, having been struck with a horrendous thought. She'd been unconscious for three hours with a murderer. He could have done anything to her. Molested her. Lyn refused to think any deeper about the matter.
"Did you- to me- did you . . ." Lyn began, but she couldn't say the word. X finally clicked onto what Lyn was implying and reeled backward.
"Lyndis! I would never!" he said, shocked.
"Of course not. You only kill people," she sneered.
--
Fiora began to shake, unsure whether to burst out in tears or- incredibly- to slap her younger sister.
"So you'll deliver messages for Lyndis but not for your own sister?!" she choked. Florina was already in tears, though not of sorrow- for the first time in her life, she was angry at her sibling.
"No! I didn't do it for her and I won't do it for you! They're my dreams and I just want them to stop!" Florina screamed, throwing herself out of Fiora's arms and into her pillow, sobbing.
--
Hector stooped slightly to hear Kaira's whispering.
"This has even got my brother brooding. He's always been a firm believer in quick decisions, but now he wishes for more time . . . I've never seen him like this before." Kaira nodded.
"We've seen this entire expedition move from a small rebellion to a threat to the entire continent. I don't want to say this, but . . . I might be in over my head here," Kaira whispered back. "Saving a continent by averting a disaster of unprecedented proportions is a little out of my area of expertise."
--
"So your mount is the one that's been chewing on the Pegasi?" said Sain innocently. Heath choked in mid-swallow, spraying ale over the grass in front of him and cussing. Sain laughed, grabbing the Bernian's arm as he jumped to his feet.
"Relax; I'm just messing with you! I was wondering whose wyvern that was," he said. Heath laughed in return, flopping back into his seat and drinking more ale.
--
Priscilla: That should about do it for the review!
IceBlade28: You're getting really good at these, Priscilla. Maybe I need to start paying you.
Serra: I've been here since Chapter VI and I haven't seen a single gold piece for my work!! How is that fair?!
IceBlade28: I'm the author. I don't have to be fair.
Serra: But you do have to be injured.
IceBlade28: Say what? (Serra attacks. Screams are deleted for the sake of the viewer's eardrums.)
Priscilla: I think I'll have to start the chapter myself.
Chapter XXV: Two Steps Forward, One Step Back
Hector stared straight ahead, biting his lip. They had arrived at the rim of the Nabata desert. The ground beneath them was patched with brown grass, but a few steps ahead saw a complete void of any plant life. Just sand as far as the eye could see. A horizon of sand and sky, and all the distance between was covered with rolling sand dunes as high as any grassy hill. Hector disliked sand, and he disliked the heat.
And, of course, here was both sand and heat in ridiculous excess. Just perfect.
Hector turned back to the army, quickly checking up on his soldiers to see how they were holding up. Most were starting to sweat, but hiding it well. The two Pegasus sisters were slumped in their saddles, and their hair was starting to mat. Hector decided to keep an eye on them, particularly Florina, since she looked like she was about to faint.
"So, are we ready to enter the desert?" Hector asked, wanting someone to say 'no' and give him an excuse to wait. Someone replied, alright, but not the girl Hector was hoping for. Her usually vibrant pigtails were already drooping with sweat, and there were a few sweat stains starting to form on her bright white robe.
"Oh shut up and get moving, you big tin can," snapped Serra, standing near the front of the crowd. Hector swallowed a reply, turned around and marched straight into the desert. At least the heat would cut down on Serra's attitude. The downside was that the heat would cause Hector to be too out of it to enjoy Serra's silence. Such was life.
The army chugged into a quiet saturnine pace, saving their energy for the march. Struggling along with them was little Nils, who held his half-carved flute loosely. He knew his music would be called on to help the weaker members of the army survive the sweltering march. The problem was, he wasn't sure if his flute was ready for combat. He was still carving his new flute after X chopped his old one in half, and it wasn't quite finished. The sound was still rough. Grating. Harsh. Whatever word you wanted. The flute wasn't ready to be played yet and Nils didn't know what would happen if he tried to put his magic into the flute. Bad music brings forth bad magic, and bad magic brings forth a dead friend. He didn't want dead friends, or bad magic, or bad music. Hence, Nils refused to play a note until he was positive the flute was capable of helping his friends. He was a skilled musician and he took pride in his music.
Nils strode confidently into the desert and began to mount the first sand dune.
Fourteen sand dunes and five hours of trekking later, Nils wouldn't have played a note for anyone in the world. He was stumbling through the thick sand and sweating buckets. The Nabata Desert was already taking its toll on everyone, and Nils was finding it harder to keep up with the adults; he was an ice dragon, for crying out loud. He wasn't built to survive this kind of heat, and Eliwood had ordered that the water was to be strictly rationed. He'd only woken up yesterday after Ninian put him in that coma. You'd think he deserved a break!
"I'm gonna die," he mumbled to himself, hating how parched he sounded.
"Nils," barked a voice behind him. "Do you need to ride on my shoulders?" The dragon-boy turned around to see Hector striding towards him, incredibly still wearing his bulky blue armour.
"Huh?" Nils babbled, confused. Hector rolled his eyes.
"What? You're surprised that a big lug like me can be nice to a kid?" he said sarcastically. Nils blinked, and his crimson eyes were dazed.
"Huh? Um- no," he mumbled. Hector frowned.
"I won't have you collapsing on us like yesterday. Up you go!" he said firmly, grabbing Nils by his sides and thrusting him over his shoulders. Nils started to cry out from fear and joy, laughing.
"I'm going to fall!" he said, but despite the fear Nils found a childish glee in being carried. It was nice, surprisingly. The air was cooler up on Hector's shoulders than closer to the ground. Nils started laughing as Hector jigged left and right, giving him an enjoyable ride.
Kaira smiled at Hector behind his back, noticing the dance as she crested the lost-count sand dune. She'd known Hector had a nice side, but she didn't know he was good with kids. Maybe she'd been taking the axeman for granted.
Kaira shook herself immediately. She took something for granted? She? The tactician to some of the most influential people in Lycia? The heat was getting to her. The heat was definitely getting to her.
The tactician glanced at a vague point over her shoulder, up and away from the sand and into the sky. She didn't know where on earth Lyndis was. The logical side of her said that Lyndis was dead. Every other part of her refused to believe it, but she had to face facts at some point. Lyn had been kidnapped by a convicted killer and was at least eighty leagues away, over desert and forest and possibly mountain.
"Be safe," mumbled Kaira, still staring at the sky.
--
Lyndis frowned to herself. X had told her to ask the most obvious question, but the most obvious question was also the stupidest. At least, it sounded stupid to her. How could he not be? Still, he did want her to ask . . .
"Ask the obvious . . . You're not human, are you?" she asked hesitantly. X smiled sadly.
It's tough to get more obvious than that." Lyn jerked, surprised. This boy, the person from her memories- he wasn't human? How was that possible?
"If- then- huh?" Lyn stammered. "If you're not human, what are you? Some kind of puppet? A demon?" X bit his lip and scratched the back of his neck nervously.
"That's part of the problem . . . I'm not exactly sure," admitted X sheepishly. Lyndis stared blankly at him, and X felt the need to elaborate.
"I don't know what I am, but I know I'm not human," he said.
"How do you know?"
"I have no soul."
The idea was ludicrous to Lyndis; it went against everything she'd learned since she was a child. Everything that lived had a soul, except for the disgusting half-formed puppets she'd heard about in folk tales. Puppets made by dark magic, attempts to imitate life. Only puppets were soulless, and X was clearly no puppet.
"That's impossible. Everyone has a soul."
"That's just it, though. I don't have a soul. I wasn't born like a human," he explained. "I was created from base materials, and I was made to live without quintessence." Lyn blinked. X was beyond anything she could have believed.
"How is that possible?" Lyndis whispered. X shrugged, biting his lip.
"You tell me."
Lyndis swallowed, wavering on the couch. This was a boy who walked the quiet halls of her mind, who rang out from her past. Perhaps it was appropriate that he wasn't human. How else could he tantalise her memories like that?
X leaned back on the rug and watched Lyn intently for any reaction. The Sacaen was gobsmacked, and X found that he was worried that Lyn would hate him for what he was. It was so peculiar. He'd never been so concerned that a girl, much less anyone, wouldn't judge him for who he was and what he'd done.
"Lyn, if you hate me for what I am, then-"
"I don't hate you," she said quickly.
"Then you pity me," said X.
"No, I-"
"Lyn, I can see it in your eyes. You pity me because I'm not human," he said. Lyn opened her mouth to defend herself and stopped. She did pity him. It wasn't even logical pity. X seemed perfectly human to her, but- no. He had to have a soul. He had to. This was some kind of sick game, some kind of trick. Propaganda. Whatever he wanted to call it.
"You're lying," Lyndis said coldly. "Tell me who you really are." X scoffed, offended.
"I promised to tell you who I was, didn't I? This is it! I'm telling the truth!"
"Bull!" Lyn shouted. "What you're telling me is impossible!"
"Oh really?! 'Impossible' this!" bellowed X. He yanked out a dagger, pressed the blade against the knuckle of an index finger and cut it clean off. Lyndis shot backwards, back onto the couch.
"Are you out of your mind?!" she screeched. X held up his bleeding hand for observation.
"Look at it!" he yelled. Lyn looked away, purposefully, prideful. X ground his teeth and shoved his hand closer to the Sacaen.
"Look at it!" he yelled again. Lyn stole a glance to see the blood on his hand congealing, and a pale and fleshy stump starting to sprout from the wound. In less than a minute, a brand new index finger was perched where his original had been, with no difference between the severed finger and the new one. X waggled the new index finger at her, showing perfect mobility.
Lyndis nearly vomited.
"Father Sky, you're not lying . . . you really aren't human . . ." she moaned, clawing the cushions of the couch. X picked up the original severed finger and crumbled it into ash, sprinkling it over the fire.
"I told you," he said. "I'm not human. I won't lie to you." Lyndis nodded slowly, taking deep breaths to calm herself down. X rose to his feet and took a step towards her. Lyn recoiled before she thought to react in any other way. X bit his lip and sat back down. It was clear that Lyn needed space at the moment.
"So your name is X," she said slowly. "As in, the letter 'X'." X shrugged.
"Pretty much," he said.
"Then . . . why 'X'? Why not pick a different name?" she asked. X grinned.
"X is the mathematical symbol for the unknown. As soon as I find out what I am, I will pick a more suitable name," he said. Lyn put a hand up, breathing heavily. It was too much for her.
"Now all that's left for you to do is employ me in your charge," said X, surprised at the quaver in his voice. Lyn put a hand to her chest, her mind still reeling.
"I- I know, just . . . give me a moment." X nodded, praying that she wouldn't ask one question.
"X, before you start working for me, I need to know something: what was the Patran Massacre?" asked Lyn.
X gritted his teeth. Just perfect.
"I don't want to talk about it," he said.
"Well, you'd better start wanting to talk about it," snapped Lyn. It was uncharacteristic of her to be selfishly angry. But in retrospect, she had been attacked, injured, lonely, intrigued, half-frozen, lost, and freaked out, all in the last forty-eight hours. One couldn't begrudge her a little anger.
X scowled, keeping a stiff upper lip. The Patran Massacre was too much past to dig up in one evening. He'd never told anyone about it, and he thought he'd erased all trails of it. Now, despite his best efforts, Lyn knew about it.
"I'm not saying a word," he said stubbornly. Lyn snarled and lunged forward with her Mani Katti in mid-draw, smashing X's jaw with the hilt. They landed on top of each other and quickly scrambled apart. Lyn swiped back at X and carved a shallow but jagged gash across his chest. As with the assassin's finger, the gash soon withered and slipped together, reclotting the blood and leaving only a cut across his shirt.
"Will you tell me what the Patran Massacre was or do I have to cut it out of you?" growled Lyn.
"Lyn, don't do this," X warned. "I love you. Don't make me hurt you."
"Liar!" Lyn screeched, hurling herself bodily at X. The assassin raised his Kéye Li'ink in defence too late. His sword was swept aside and he coughed as Lyn ploughed into him, sending him flying backwards. He landed on his back and skidded out of the lounge into the hallway with Lyn hot on his heels. X blocked a slash at his neck and rolled to his feet.
"Tell me what you did!" Lyn yelled. X blocked another slash.
"Not a chance in hell-" he was cut off by a low sweep from the Mani Katti that bit into his thigh. He hopped awkwardly around for a moment until Lyn performed a spectacular high kick that transformed into a back flip, shredding the Mani Katti out of his leg and twisting him through the air to land back in the lounge room.
"It wasn't my fault!" X said, clawing back from a furious Lyndis. "I didn't mean to kill those people!" Lyn kicked the Kéye Li'ink out of X's hands and drove a knee into his chest, winding him as she knelt on top of him. She then slid the Mani Katti across his throat.
"You will tell me what the Patran Massacre was, or we will find out if you can regrow a head," Lyn hissed. X felt- incredibly, illogically- a tear slip from his eye.
"Fine. You want to know so badly? I'll tell you. But don't come crying to me when you get nightmares," he spat. "A group called the Black Fang hired me to kill a nobleman in Bern who was abusing his power over the peasants. They were starving and living in filthy hovels, dying openly in the streets. I thought this would be the best thing I could ever do, the most right thing I could ever do."
"But?" asked Lyn coldly.
"But I got cocky. I killed the nobleman in his bed, but the dastard didn't die. He flopped and moaned and screamed, and by the time he did kick the bucket the entire castle had woken up," X said quietly. "I couldn't get out."
"So what did you do?" asked Lyn slowly, fearing his answer. X stayed silent.
"What did you do, X?" she said again. The assassin defied her again, refusing to answer. Lyn gritted her teeth and slapped the boy hard, using her nails to draw four bloody lines across his cheek.
"What did you do?!" she yelled.
"I killed them!" X yelled back.
"Who 'them'?"
"Everyone!!" shrieked X. "I killed everyone! Men! Women! Children! I killed all of them!"
Lyn choked and fell back from the assassin, scrabbling backwards until she was standing. He . . . how could he have done that? Even in the most desperate circumstances, she couldn't have dreamed of . . .
"How- how many?" stammered Lyn. X couldn't meet her eyes, getting to his feet and walking to the snow-covered window. He stayed silent.
"How many?" whimpered Lyndis, staring at X's back. The answer was barely a whisper.
"Four hundred and seventeen, not including grown men or warriors," X muttered, the words condensing on the glass in a fog. "I buried them myself."
Lyndis was hyperventilating. Everything began to drag into slow motion, and she recognised the signs of blacking out. Her mind was reeling- she couldn't take it, she couldn't take it, she couldn't take it, she couldn't take it, she couldn't take it, she couldn't take it, Elimine's name she just couldn't take it anymore-
Lyndis grabbed X's shoulder and spun the assassin to face her. Before she could stop herself she lashed out with a fist and punched X square across the jaw. A loud crunch signalled that she had broken his mouth. X smashed backwards into the window before crumpling to the ground face-down, unconscious. Lyn wrung her hand out, smiling grimly at the assassin. Suddenly she could take it again.
Lyn walked over to X's crumpled body and examined his body- more specifically, the sword that he had on him. She took the Kéye Li'ink in one hand, weighing the blade carefully. It was of particularly curious workmanship, roughly a hand's width more to the hilt then usual, and the back edge of the sword was jagged, as though the sword had dozens of tiny barbed arms reaching back to the wielder.
The Sacaen princess twirled the sword a few times, enough until she frowned. It just didn't feel . . . right. She didn't feel comfortable with the Kéye Li'ink. Maybe it was because the Kéye Li'ink wasn't her sword, or maybe because she was mildly superstitious. She didn't know. What she did know, however, was that she had the assassin who had caused her so much grief- and killed the man she loved- at his mercy.
The only two things that were stopping her from beheading X right at that moment were the facts that X still had more to tell her and that she had given X her word that she would drop all charges and employ him. Going against that would mean going against her pride as a Sacaen.
Lyn rotated the sword slowly in her hand until the tip pointed at the floor. Having an assassin that could heal himself would be a major asset, but it could just as easily turn into a double-edged sword if she couldn't trust him.
The storm howled and raged outside, and besides the slamming winds the only sounds were the quiet breaths of X and Lyndis. Lyndis felt her arm tense, and she knew what she had to do. She had to kill him.
The tip of the Kéye Li'ink hovered delicately above X's neck-
-but she couldn't do it.
Lyn let the sword clatter to the ground and walked drudgingly over to the couch, lying down and covering herself with blankets. X was right. He wasn't human. No human could have slaughtered four hundred women and children. But Lyn would employ him. He was a tool. A useful tool, yes, but only a tool. She owned him. She would use him.
And after this war against Nergal had ended, Lyn would find a way to dispose of him.
--
Just a sand dune away from Eliwood and Hector was a man in a long robe performing a very peculiar task: he was bent almost in half, his nose just an inch above the scorching sand, prowling around like some sort of sniffer dog.
Pent grinned and plunged his hand deep into the burning sand, much of the heat dispersed by his gloves. Something caught just beneath the surface, but Pent gave it a harder tug and the object emerged from the sand. It was an ornamental seal, carved from rosewood and coated in intricate designs of ruby and pearl.
"At last . . . a Heaven Seal . . ." he breathed. The seal flashed once in the sunlight as if to confirm his words. The sage rubbed a few extra granules of sand from its surface, smiling at it. He'd been looking for this seal all day, and he was beginning to worry that he wasn't going to find it. But, at last, here it was. How marvellous.
Thundering footsteps soon sounded all around him. Pent stood up to watch the surreal vision of dozens of shamans, axe-wielding bandits, and even wyvern riders streak over the sand dunes towards him, led by a pair of rather grotesque humanoid creatures. Both were easily twice his size, miniature giants, and wielding axes almost as large as Pent himself. Clearly these people were some form of desert bandit group. The two axe-wielding leaders approached Pent, staying a safe distance away.
"Well, well, well. What a pretty little jewel," said the pink person.
"Yes, very pretty," said the blue one.
"We should very much like it if you'd give that to us," jabbered the pink person.
"Very much so," said the blue person.
Pent's eyes whipped back and forth from the Warrior figure in pink to the Warrior figure in blue. They were performing some sort of hip-hop-skip dance, jabbering on without giving Pent the chance to get a word in edge-wise.
Pent stared at the creatures before him. They were human, he knew that, but there was no possible way of distinguishing sex. One said he- no, she- was named Paul, and the other said it was named Jasmine. Either way, they wanted the ornamental seal Pent was concealing beneath his cloak.
"Give it to us!" demanded Jasmine. Pent placed a hand over his Elfire tome, well aware of several other bandits beginning to surround him. The scorpions would be picking away at several bodies tonight. Normally Pent went with the medium-to-well-done option when he would cast Elfire, but these bandits looked out for blood. The sage settled with the 'charbroil' option.
"This seal is mine. It took me a long time to find it and I'll not hand it over," Pent said politely, swirling his hand and scorching a nearby brigand into the ground. Jasmine- or Paul- no, Jasmine- Pent shook himself, immediately making the mental decision to name the axe-person in blue 'Paul' and the axe-person in pink 'Jasmine'. Jasmine stared at the burning body of the brigand member.
"I don't think this person is very nice, Paul," she huffed.
"No, not very nice at all, Jasmine."
"First he refused to give us what we wanted-"
"Then he killed one of our little club!"
"I think we should kill him!"
"I think we should too, Jasmine!"
Pent couldn't take it anymore. He'd be subdued without a single blow if these two kept up their irritating jibber-jabber. Fortunately, he was spared the mental stress by the more attention-grabbing fact of over a dozen bandits approaching him, surrounding him. The Sage quickly changed tomes from Elfire to the slightly-less-damaging-but-faster-to-wield Thunder tome.
Pent cracked his knuckles and settled into an offensive stance. Oh good, he thought. A little evening exercise.
An over-eager Brigand let loose a jarring yell, leaping from the top of a dune with his axe ready for the plunge. If it would connect, it would cleave Pent into two separate pieces. Pent spotted the leaping bandit and thrust a palm towards him, sending a twisting line of lightening on a deadly intercept course. It punched into his chest and sent him straight back the way he came, disappearing over the very sand dune he jumped from. Pent could still hear him crackling as he flew into the distance.
--
Lucius stumbled down a sand dune, wobbling beneath the weight of his pack. It was harder for him than anyone else: he only had one arm. His robe was matting to his skin, making progress harder as he pushed his way through the sand. His long blonde hair was shone as brightly as the pounding sun, making it a hindrance not only for him but for the people who looked at him. Lucius found his penitent mood failing, and he coughed out what little effort was left in him as he fell to his knees. The momentum of his pack forced him face-first into the ground, where he could feel the individual granules of sand burning his face. He had spent himself, and now he was going to lie down and die as the natural law permitted. Elimine would receive him into Her Kingdom for his hard work. He was positive.
The monk felt his arm lifted for him, and a great sense of relief as his pack was slid off his back. Lucius squinted away from the sand to see Raven raising the pack and slinging it over his shoulder. Raven's hand came down again, this time to seize a handful of Lucius' sweaty robes and heave the monk to his feet.
"If you were having trouble, you could've told me," Raven said gruffly. "Ride in Merlinus' caravan for a while. It'll make you feel better."
"May Elimine bless you, Lord Raymond," said Lucius, turning to go. Raven's hand grabbed another fistful of Lucius' robes, this time to drag the monk closer.
"Don't call me that," he hissed. "We've been over this, remember? It's 'Raven' now." The mercenary stomped off ahead, wearing two packs as though they were nothing at all.
Lucius felt the heat of Raven's words, but they were trifles compared to the heat of the desert. The monk stumbled away, heading for Merlinus' caravan. He didn't intend to ride it for long, just long enough to get his strength back. Eliwood had ordered limited resting periods in their only shelter so they could preserve the horse's strength. Merlinus' horse was big- the biggest in the army, in fact- but the heat was attacking all of them. Lucius just prayed that they didn't hit any quicksand. He'd heard tales of travellers who had taken a wrong step and begun to sink into the sand, weighed down by their gear, until the sand covered their heads and they suffocated. Swallowed alive by the desert.
Lucius collapsed onto Merlinus' caravan gratefully. Tiny flecks of sweat flicked from his hair to land on items within the expansive caravan, but they were quickly evaporated by the smothering heat.
The monk yelped as something huge and heavy smashed into the caravan with incredible force, tipping the entire caravan sideways. The entire caravan tipped over, spilling the one-armed monk back onto the sand. Merlinus was trapped in the saddle and wound up tangled in the reins, hooting and hollering for someone to come free him. Lucius instinctively knew the march would be put on halt for a while.
The monk glanced through his hair to see the dead body of an electrocuted Brigand pinning his legs, leaving him half in and half out of the caravan. Worse, Lucius could feel the sand beneath him starting to give way. Merlinus' screeching cries confirmed it.
They had wandered into quicksand.
It was chaos. Every horse began to scream and whinny. Kaira and Eliwood leapt from their mounts and waded through the sand.
"Save the convoy!" Kaira bellowed. "Anything that can be saved, get it!" Guy and Rath, the only Sacaens still with the army and the least affected by the heat, jumped aboard the sinking caravan and began hurtling whatever came to hand- vulneraries, swords, water pouches, food, anything. The added weight of Guy and Rath on the convoy would have made it sink faster, but the lessening of items in the caravan slowed the 'fall' into the sand. Lucius felt the convoy sinking and nearly wept. There had been so much death, so many obstacles and so much pain. What was the point of it anymore? It was clear Elimine didn't want them to succeed. Surely their quest had been arduous enough without the loss of their caravan!
A startled yelp and thump heralded Merlinus' flight from the saddle to safety. Lucius watched Guy and Rath jump from the roof to safety. They had not seen him. Lucius felt a tear drip from his eye, mingling with the sweat that soaked him. Nothing mattered anymore. He could not save himself, and he would not ask anyone to. There was no point.
Lucius looked over the Brigand corpse pinning him down. Someone was casting shade onto his face. To his grief, it was Raven, standing in the smashed-in side of the caravan. The mercenary was furious.
"Lucius! What are you doing?! Come on!" he bellowed. Lucius stared back blankly, unresponsive. Raven was very aware of the sinking caravan and was getting antsy.
"Are you deaf and dumb, you stupid monk? Get up!" he yelled, grabbing Lucius' arm and pulling it. Lucius stayed put, wedged beneath the Brigand.
"I will die here, Raymond," Lucius said. "I have no desire to move, and I will not." Raven grit his teeth and the hideous thought of ditching the monk flitted across his mind. But only for a second.
"The hell you won't!" snarled Raven, kicking the body off Lucius and lifting the monk into the air before dumping Lucius on his shoulder. Lucius hung like a limp rag, uncaring. Raven tried to step back through the hole. His feet had been submerged in burning sand, up to his calves. Raven yanked his feet out of the sand and climbed onto the roof of the sinking caravan, perched there like the captain of a sinking ship.
"Leave me," Lucius muttered. Raven ignored him, leaning forward and jumping. The pair of them landed on the edge of the pool of quicksand and immediately sunk in ankle-deep, but a dozen grabbing hands were there to fish them out again. Raven immediately dumped Lucius to the ground.
"Moron! What are you trying to pull?!" shouted Raven over the din of Merlinus' sinking horse. "You're missing an arm, not a brain!" Lucius stared blankly at him again. Raven threw his hands in the air, fed up.
"Fine. You want to lay there and die? Go ahead. I already miss you," he said sarcastically, spitting once on the monk's robes and walking off. Lucius continued to lay there until he felt a small and gentle hand touch his chest. Lucius turned his head to the side to see Serra kneeling beside him. Lucius knew in one look, one gaze into Serra's sapphire eyes: the cleric was heartbroken. But Serra's face didn't show it.
Serra scooped her arms under Lucius and pulled him to his feet, brushing sand off the back of his robe. Serra made sure to make eye contact with him.
"Did you really think," she said quietly, "that I didn't love you enough to keep you alive?"
Her words were barely heard over Merlinus' thrashing mount, which had sunk up to its neck in the sand. The monk and the cleric turned to the horse and saw- just in that moment- an arrow shaft pierce its neck. A second arrow followed, taking the horse through the head.
Rebecca was seen lowering her bow, tears running down her face. Sain was standing beside her with a hand on her shoulder, comforting her.
"It's kinder," he said. "Better a quick death by an arrow then suffocating alive." Rebecca nodded, still crying.
"I just wish it could have gone smoother," she sobbed, sniffing hard.
"It did go smoothly, Rebecca. You couldn't have asked for a cleaner kill. Trust me. It was the right thing to do," said Sain firmly.
--
Kaira bit her lip, her eyes tracing the trajectory the dead Brigand took through the sky. Eliwood was standing next to her, following her eyes and thinking the same thing.
"Where did the dead man come from?" Eliwood asked. Kaira stared at the crest of a sand dune and started towards it, pricking her ears up for any odd sounds. In confirmation, a plethora of odd sounds reached her ears- odd sounds including explosions, human and inhuman screaming, and spells being cast. Kaira reached the summit of the sand dune and stared at the battle below her. One man in a robe was fending off over a dozen attackers, from axemen to shamans to wyvern riders. Kaira gnashed her teeth, furious. She hated seeing lop-sided battles, immediately ordering her army to defend the Sage. Kaira didn't think she'd have to defend him for long- from the looks of things the Sage was doing a pretty dang good job of defending himself.
The majority of her army moved sluggishly compared to their usual battle speed, but there were a handful of Kaira's soldiers that shot down the slope to engage the enemy first: the Pegasus sisters, Heath, the two Sacaens, and, oddly enough, the magic users. Erk and Canas were completely unhindered by the sand and the heat.
Fiora urged her mount into a faster flight and hefted her lance, swooping on a shaman from behind and spearing him through the head. She shook the body from her lance and flew just above the ground, her sights on a Mage who was staring her straight in the face. She gritted her teeth, watching as the Fire spell rose from the Mage- it sped through the air- Fiora twisted her mount, banking right-
The Fire spell struck her low on her left side, burning away her leather outfit and leaving a layer of charred and bloody skin beneath it. Fiora yelled angrily and hurled her lance with her good arm. It speared the Mage through the arm. He fell to the ground. Fiora flew over the wounded Mage and grabbed her lance, yanking both her lance- and the Mage, still impaled on it- off the ground. The Mage was screaming and weeping until Fiora's Pegasus kicked him in the head. The Mage fell silent and was finally twisted free from Fiora's lance, falling soundlessly to the sand below. Fiora yanked the reins up, forcing her upset Pegasus to fly higher and wheel around in mid-air to attack a wyvern rider close by.
Fiora threw herself at the wyvern rider, bleeding from a side wound but uncaring. Her lance plunged into the rider and its mount repeatedly. Fiora's Pegasus screeched as the wyvern took a chunk out of its flank; Fiora stabbed the wyvern again to ensure its death, cursing. Fiora kicked her mount as it started to lag.
"Work with me!" she yelled, ignoring her mount's pain and steering it towards the next foe. Fiora rammed her Pegasus into the wyvern's side. The animal hissed, jerking its head around and lunging at Fiora teeth first. The Ilian gasped and dodged but the wyvern twisted its neck and sunk its teeth into Fiora's thigh, dragging her off her mount.
Fiora screamed as she felt the teeth shred her leg until the wyvern lost its grip. Leaving a large chunk of her leg in the wyvern's jaws Fiora plunged head over heels to the ground-
Until a white and lavender streak blew over the sand dune and caught Fiora a story from the ground. Fiora looked weakly up at her saviour: it was her sister, Florina, who was already crying.
"Fiora, are you insane?!" wept Florina. "Are you trying to kill yourself?!" The injured Ilian bowed her head, bloody and ashamed.
"If that's what it takes to see Kent again," Fiora said, burning with humiliation. Florina could barely believe her ears. No love was worth suicide for. It defied logic. Granted, she was well aware of the existence of an afterlife, but still! It wasn't right.
Fiora's eyes rolled up into her head and she went limp in Florina's arms. The youngest sister instinctively began to cry, turning her Pegasus for the main camp back over the ridge. Her sister needed to be healed. Fiora was already bleeding from a side wound-
Florina yelped as a Flux spell shot up from over the sand dune and smashed into Huey's chest. Florina felt her Pegasus begin to fall, and they arced straight down. Florina tried to save her Pegasus, her landing, and her sister- none went well. Huey face-planted into the sand with a whinny, tumbling over Florina and Fiora and sending them both flying, lost in a tumbling mess of feathers and sand and blood.
The lavender haired sister pulled herself from the ground and looked for Fiora. Her sister was lying a few yards away, sitting upright, and staring at her leg- or what was left of it. Fiora's leg was almost severed, hanging by a few bloody ligaments and staining the sand beneath her a grisly red. Florina scrambled over to her sister and cradled Fiora in her arms, panicking. Fiora was hyperventilating and staring at the carnage below her waist.
"Florina . . . my leg," she gasped. "Elimine's name, Florina, my leg! It's nearly torn off!"
"Sister, you have to look away. Look in my eyes," Florina demanded. She had to be sharp in an emergency. It was one of the basic training rules she'd learned as a trainee Pegasus rider.
"Florina, but- my leg!"
"Sister, look at me!"
"M-my leg . . ."
"You're going into shock!"
"My . . ."
"Stay awake!!"
--
IceBlade28: I think I'll end the chapter right here.
Serra: How could you leave it there?!
Priscilla: Now I understand why you hate his cliffhangers.
IceBlade28: Well, I haven't left it at a good, solid cliffhanger for a long time. I wanted something for the reader's to drool over for Chapter XXVI.
Serra: I'll kill you! I'll kill you, you scene-stealing hack!
IceBlade28: Scene-stealing? They're hommages!
(Serra assaults IceBlade28 violently)
Priscilla: Very well. I'll get started on the teaser trailer, shall I?
Next time, on Person's Unknown . . .
--
X opened his eyes and immediately regretted it. His mouth felt broken and swollen. Getting to his feet, X placed a hand under his jaw and snapped it back into place, crunching bone and playing with the joints until they slowly healed the way he desired. A quick movement on the couch caught his eye. The sound of him resetting his jaw had woken Lyndis up, who was staring at him oddly. X couldn't interpret the look.
"The storm has stopped," said Lyndis. "We can leave now." X glanced out the window to notice that the storm had indeed stopped. Sunlight now shone into the cabin.
"I guess . . . you're employed in my charge now," she said slowly, getting up from the couch and moving to stand in front of the door. X watched her form, lithe and seductive in the sunlight. Lyn drew back a slender leg and booted the door off its hinges.
X immediately recalculated. Lithe, seductive, and capable of injuring him.
--
Pent regarded Kaira with a peculiar eye. Kaira immediately knew who Pent was, and flicked her amethyst hair back in an attempt to look professional.
"Wonderful to meet you, Mage General, sir," she said politely. Pent nodded, taking out the Heaven Seal.
"Tell me, Miss Tactician. Do you know what this is?" Kaira shook her head.
"I have no clue," she said honestly. Pent tucked the item away in his voluminous robe.
"Good," he said. If this new alliance went sour, at least he would have a greater chance of escaping with the Heaven Seal.
--
Canas waved a hand over his Flux tome in an attempt to cast a spell. A crackle of static was heard, quickly followed by the sound of something short-circuiting. Canas tried again and was rewarded by a sharp jab of energy that coursed through his hand.
"I can't cast a spell," he remarked to Hector. "It's really very intriguing. Something is nullifying my magic. I believe the only creature in the world capable of performing this act is a magic seal."
"A what?"
"A magic seal. A living being who exudes a field which is the very antithesis of magical energy," Canas enthused. "I've wanted the chance to study one of these for years!" Hector shook his head. The shaman was spouting babble.
"Look, just cut to the chase- how do I kill it?" Hector demanded.
--
Florina held her sister in her arms and sobbed. She had tried her best and her best wasn't good enough. She would die, along with her sister and her beloved Huey. The shaman that smote them from the sky was standing over her, raising the same hand to smite them both out of existence.
The Ilian looked desperately around her for a weapon. To her shock, her Slim lance was lodged in the sand just out of arm's reach. But she couldn't grab it without moving from underneath Fiora. Gaining the lance would mean leaving Fiora to completely open attack. Florina had a second to decide-
So the shaman decided for her.
--
Priscilla: That's the teaser trailer done.
Serra: I'm not sure how long it'll take Taylor to recover from his injuries, so it looks like us muses are running the show for now!
Priscilla: What did you do to him?
Serra: Nothing. I just moved his ribs.
Priscilla: To where?
Serra: Somewhere near his sphincter, I think.
Priscilla: Join us next time for Person's Unknown Chapter XXVI: What Is Humanity?
Serra: Reviews would be loved!