Chapter Twenty-six: Rei Shingetsu

It was incredible how one day could set back years of careful planning.

Durbe had gone to get the Healer to help Gilag, but she was missing, and the Tsukumo woman was being unusually arrogant toward him. When he reminded her that her betrothal to Christopher Arclight was only ever intended for a political spectacle – he doubted she knew of Chris's relationship with Kaito; Durbe had no proof to offer, though he was almost certain something had gone on between them – she announced that they had been wed in the midst of the morning's chaos. The brothers and Rokujuro affirmed it, though the other two witnesses, the Healer and the insane woman, could hardly be counted as witnesses at all since their disappearance. They would have to have the proper ceremony again, this time with Byron and Durbe present. Chris was nowhere to be found, and Durbe gave up looking for him. There was too much going on that required his attention before he went to Baria.

The other Healer in the palace wasn't as good as the woman had been, but he tried, and he was able to Heal Gilag's concussion. Gilag's first words upon waking chilled Durbe.

It was Kaito.

At first, he thought Gilag was still disoriented; Kaito couldn't possibly be alive after all this time, not when he had been so sick. Alit was adamant that Kaito's heart condition had been severe. And he certainly couldn't have gotten in undetected. But Gilag insisted on it and, waving the Healer out of the room, firmly informed Durbe that Kaito hadn't been acting alone. It was one thing for Kaito to want to take Prince Astral's powers for his own.

But another thing entirely when Kaito had been assisting Ryoga Kamishiro.

Gilag accompanied him through the tunnel connecting the palace to the woods a mile away, hunched over uncomplaining as Durbe silently led the way, holding a small ball of light in his palm. His robes swept through the dirt and grime, but he barely noticed.

Why would Kaito help the Kamishiros? Why wouldn't Kaito attempt to use the Kamishiros as leverage to get us to help his brother? Nothing about the situation added up. But Gilag insisted, and Durbe trusted him. There had to be some explanation.

Durbe made out several bodies lying on the ground near the end of the tunnel. He bent down and held the light close to their faces. Barian faces; he recognized a few of them. Younger recruits, perhaps a bit overeager. Mulek, Giddon, Zemna. All from different parts of the Barian Kingdom, but all good and loyal to the Empire.

Captain Kamishiro used a lance, he knew. None of these Barians had died from anything other than knife or sword wounds.

He stepped over their bodies and ascended the ladder at the end of the tunnel, despite Gilag's quiet insistence that he go first. Even if there was someone waiting for him outside the tunnel, at least he wouldn't have to see another of his friends get hurt because of him.

He flinched against the mid-afternoon sun and pulled himself out of the tunnel. No one was around but four bodies lying several yards away. He let the light in his palm go out and knelt next to them. One was dead from a gaping wound in the back of his neck; this was clearly a lance, and more puzzling still was that it had been instantly cauterized. He had never seen a wound like it on a Barian. He turned the other three over, finding nothing wrong with them but gashes. They were shallow gashes, even, and should barely have slowed them.

Could the lance have been poisoned?

No, that would have been dishonorable for a Dragoon to poison his enemy, provided the captain's lance was responsible for all four dead Barians. He couldn't rule it out – a Dragoon with nothing to lose might resort to dishonorable means – but he didn't think it likely. These wounds reminded Durbe almost of… but that was impossible; there was no Astralite crystal, no weapons designed to kill Barians the same way the Baria Crystal was utilized as a weapon to target those with Astralite blood.

"Gilag."

His silent general approached. "Yes?"

Durbe touched a hand to the gash across one of their backs. "What kind of weapon caused these injuries?"

Gilag knelt next to Durbe and examined the bodies. His eyes narrowed as he traced a finger along the wounds, finally pulling his hand back in disgust.

"It was a lance that caused the external injuries. But I've never seen anything like this." He straightened up.

"External injuries?"

Gilag gestured at the bodies. "They were killed by something that targeted their powers."

Durbe rubbed his face. Like Mizael; only, whatever it was that had put Mizael into a near-catatonic state had killed these Barians instantly. Not poison, then, but how did a lance do this?

"Are there such things as weapons that work the same on Barians as the crystal does on Astralites?"

He glanced up at Gilag, whose brows were furrowed in concentration. "If there is, I have never heard of it." He pointed at the bodies. "But Durbe, one other thing. The weapon – the lance – was infused with Baria Crystal as well as whatever neutralized their powers."

Durbe's hand clenched his robes. How is this possible?

He could think of only one thing on the earth that could do what it was doing to Mizael. Someone had travelled into the Sargasso Waste, and somehow they had made a weapon out of a plant that had once killed an entire village, a weapon far more potent than the plant had been on its own.

Was this Kazuma Tsukumo's doing? Is this why he was in the Waste?

"Durbe?"

Durbe exhaled slowly and loosened his grip. He needed to go to the Waste. He needed to find this plant, and he needed to use it to find a cure so he could save Mizael. Mizael had given his life and soul to Durbe, and he would not see that life wasted. He needed Mizael.

But first, he had somewhere to be, and prayed that he would be allowed to continue ruling Arclight. Tenjo and Heartland were next, and he would show them no more lenience when it came to their autonomy. They were getting too independent and needed to be brought under control before anything else went wrong.

"We need to go to Baria," he murmured. "Will you come with me, Gilag?"

"Of course."

Truthfully, he prayed most of all that the others wouldn't have him executed for his ineptitude. But he couldn't tell Gilag that.

Kaito stumbled out of the portal into his bedroom at Tenjo and felt the floor crack beneath his feet. He had only enough time to register the draft behind him before the floor gave out, sending him plummeting ten feet to the room below, where he crashed painfully on a chest of drawers. He had a moment of blind panic where he could neither draw breath nor exhale, and the gaping hole where his bedroom had been was a haze above him from his dizziness. He was so numb from shock that at first, he didn't feel the pain he knew he would be feeling soon enough. He felt hands on him and mumbled for them not to touch him, relieved at least that his breath was returning.

Someone murmured something about his eye and suddenly no one was touching him.

Kaito tried to roll over and sit up, but the pain hit him at once, and he succeeded in doing nothing but almost rolling off the chest. What the hell happened? he thought, but he must have said it out loud because a clear, authoritative voice rang out from the doorway, silencing the quiet murmurs in the room.

"That's the question you should be answering, Kaito."

He turned his head and gritted his teeth against the pain. His father stood in the doorway, hand clenched on the doorknob, and everyone in the room visibly shrank back as he made his way into the room.

"Everyone out."

There was no hesitation as the maids and servants gave clumsy bows in their haste to leave, and the last one closed the door behind her.

Kaito tried to avoid his father's gaze but it was difficult when Faker stood over him, eyes locked on his.

"Where have you been?" Faker's quiet voice shook with a rage that would have not been as intimidating if he had raised his voice.

With a painful push, Kaito managed to hoist himself to a sitting position, shooting pain all through his back. He was certain he'd been in more pain in the past month than he had for the entire twenty-eight years he had been alive. "Arclight." It was, at least, mostly true.

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not."

He finally turned his gaze on Faker's face, and saw a hint of something masked by the anger; a barely perceptible furrow, lips pressed together a bit too much.

Faker was looking at him with fear.

"The Barians came asking for you two weeks ago," Faker said quietly. "You were at Arclight. But you left without telling a soul where you went. Where did you go, Kaito?"

The truth was impossible to say. It would require telling his father that he had sold his soul to the Barians before turning his back and betraying them when he realized that they had lied to him. It would require telling his father that he had joined with the two last Dragoons to rescue Prince Astral, who wasn't really dead, and Astral's bodyguard, who knew of a weapon that could kill Barians.

It would require him to divulge that Chris had been married, and Kaito knew that if he mentioned that, he wouldn't be able to keep his emotions under control.

Why he had trusted the Dragoons was beyond his understanding. There was something… drawing him to them. Fate, Ryoga had believed, but there was no such thing as fate. He couldn't explain to himself why or how, but he felt a connection to the Dragoons. He sympathized with them, deep down, because they had lost their family and friends and way of life. They had nothing left but their prince and their desperate oaths to destroy the Barian race.

Kaito couldn't honestly answer his father, and so he remained silent.

Faker grabbed him by the collar and pulled him from the top of the chest. Kaito winced as his feet hit the ground, jarring his lower back. "You have the mark. I know you gave yourself to them." His voice was so quiet Kaito wouldn't have heard it had Faker not been practically breathing in his ear. "You're filthy and have bloodstains on your clothes and your hands are shredded. Have you been fighting their battles for them?"

With the pain in his back, Kaito had almost forgotten about his hands, but Faker's reminder alerted him to the fact that they were still bleeding from his fight with Chris. "It's none of your concern."

Talking back to the king would cost him, and sure enough, Faker's hand connected painfully with Kaito's jaw. But he couldn't answer those questions. He had plenty of his own, beginning with why his room had caved in.

Fortunately, Faker answered his unspoken question. "Your brother was so grieved and angry that you had left without a word that he lost control and destroyed half the palace."

Kaito's heart pounded. "Where is he? Is he safe?"

"No thanks to your lies and secrets."

With a futile push, Kaito tried to free himself from Faker's grasp. "I need to see him."

Faker tightened his grip. "Not until you've explained yourself."

But Kaito wasn't listening anymore. "Was it only this wing?"

"What?"

"That got destroyed. Was the library destroyed too?"

"Answer my questions, Kaito!"

Kaito ignored him and finally managed to pull free. "I need to see my brother. And then I'm going to the library." He strode past his father, pain shooting through his legs and back with each stiff step, but he had to save Haruto from the Barians and to do that, he needed to do some long-overdue research. Time was running out. Durbe would have to sort through the mess Kaito and the others made at the palace, but his attention would soon turn to Kaito, and why Kaito had been working with Ryoga Kamishiro instead of the Barians that he had pledged his soul to.

With any luck, Durbe would be stripped of his authority at Arclight and relegated to a solely diplomatic role in future affairs. If he had his way, Vector would make it so that Durbe would be stripped of his title altogether. How the other lords could be so blind to Durbe's backhanded scheming, Vector would never understand. But then, they didn't know certain things about Durbe that Vector did. Durbe had probably never even told Miza some of it; Miza would doubtless never have held Durbe's hand through it all if he had known what Durbe had in mind for the Barian Empire.

Tragic, sad, scheming Durbe. What an interesting Barian. How fun it would be to let him think he was winning before his entire reality collapsed around him. Maybe he should have thought twice before turning on his homeland. Vector almost wished Miza would die before Durbe figured out how to save him, but Miza was as much a part of his plans as he was of Durbe's. Miza held the key to breaking Durbe, so Vector needed the insufferable general alive… for just a bit longer.

Vector traced his fingers over his smooth human face, over his soft lips and chin. What a peculiar sensation. He'd forgotten what being a human felt like. It was a weak body, small and thin and childish, with a mop of hair that reminded him of fire. But it was a friendly face, and it took no effort at all to adopt a simpering chirp. It took even less effort to cast an illusion across his face to make his eyes brighter in color and wider.

The other lords didn't know where he was going, but they didn't ask. Perhaps they thought he was mildly insane and didn't care to monitor him. Comparatively, Durbe had wasted so much time pretending to be a good and loyal leader that even his smallest screw-ups were scrutinized. Only Durbe seemed to realize that Vector was playing the other lords just as much as Durbe was, except Durbe got all the blame and focus because he tried. He tried so hard. It was almost sad to see him fail so badly. Vector's plans were all smoothly sailing. It was all very satisfying, and when he set his last plan in motion… The other fools would have to acquiesce. Vector would rule the Seven Lords, and Durbe would no longer be one of them. Stubborn, brilliant, altruistic, virtuous Durbe… was Vector's biggest obstacle.

No, no, not Vector, he reminded himself. He was no longer Vector.

He led his horse through the hard-packed dirt of the outer Sargasso Waste. It wasn't difficult to figure out where Prince Astral was headed. The tunnel had led straight to the outer edge of the Waste. He'd set this whole thing up from the beginning. His plans were perfect, and the little human sheep would follow along without realizing that they were playing his game.

Sure enough, he spotted a group of people wandering through the exposed wasteland, and he smiled. Such a strange sensation, this human mouth. He'd have to get used to expressing himself with it rather than his eyes. He didn't want to give himself away too early.

He straightened his purple tunic, gave his bright orange robes a tug, and began singing.

Up in the mountains of Heartland
Lived an animalistic band
Who dressed like wolves and cats
And ate everything from bears to rats-

He didn't get very far before he was close enough to see the nervousness on their faces, the fury in Captain Kamishiro's eyes. It was almost satisfying when the captain leveled his lance at the noisy newcomer on horseback.

Demands, demands, who are you, what are you doing in the Waste – and he wanted to roll his eyes because he couldn't believe that these humans would have this much audacity.

But he played his part, holding his hands out in front of him and flinching away from the lance pointed at his chest, and he whimpered out quiet responses.

I'm just a traveler, just a bard-

The captain didn't seem to buy it and he pulled the bard from the back of the horse by the front of his robes and placed the lance tip at his throat. How dare this vile human touch me-

"Please don't hurt me," he whimpered instead, feeling the tears burning at the corners of his eyes.

"Who are you?" the captain demanded again, and Vector had his new name all picked out.

"I'm Rei Shingetsu."

He was ready for each of the captain's questions – where are you from, what are you doing here – and each answer – Heartland, just passing through to visit some ancient ruins for inspiration – seemed to satisfy Yuma Tsukumo, who rested a hand on the captain's.

"I don't think he means us any harm," Yuma murmured.

"He looks harmless," the Dragoon woman said indifferently.

"He could be allied with the Barians. We should still kill him."

Vector – no, my name is Shingetsu – resisted rolling his eyes with difficulty. Typical bloodthirsty half-human. Instead he let out a convincingly terrified whimper and covered his eyes. "I just wanted inspiration! You can have all my food and supplies, just please don't kill me!"

He heard Prince Astral mutter something to the Healer woman about he thinks we're bandits and the captain finally lowered his weapon and released Shingetsu's cloak.

They tied him up and sat him next to the horse as they deliberated what to do with him for nearly ten minutes, and he idly drew pictures in the dirt with his foot until they reached a consensus.

"We'll have your supplies," the captain warned, "and you can come with us until we get somewhere we can leave you, but if you give any hint that you're about to give us away, or that you're working with the Barians, I will kill you. Do you understand?"

Shingetsu nodded frantically and whimpered out his thanks but Vector laughed.

With a shaking hand, Durbe pushed the door open and walked into the audience chamber. The other lords were already waiting, minus Vector. Durbe gazed at Vector's vacant seat for a moment before turning his attention to Polara, sitting in green wool robes. She gestured to him to kneel, and he felt his face flush.

"Am I being tried or am I your equal?" he demanded.

"Just kneel, Durbe." Alasco rested his fist on his chin and sounded bored.

Durbe pulled his shoulders back. "I will not. I am a lord. I will not kneel to another."

He saw Ilya cover a grin with a small hand as she glanced over at Koche, who merely raised his eyebrows. "Well, he's right. He's not being tried, merely questioned and disciplined."

As simpering as Ilya was, Durbe couldn't help but feel glad that she usually took his side, particularly since Alasco and Pherka rarely did, and Vector never did. He was about to ask where Vector was when Polara waved her hand dismissively.

"Fine, we'll just get started then. Durbe, we understand that Vector allowed you to oversee the attempted extraction of Prince Astral's powers. Why did this fail?"

Of course. Vector would be playing this up as Durbe's fault. "His pendant rejected our touch."

"What of the humans? Could they not touch it?"

"No."

Alasco rolled his eyes and Durbe watched him carefully. Alasco was more dangerous than Vector sometimes. His words carried more weight than Vector's, as they all seemed to think Vector was unstable. "Did you attempt to force Prince Astral to remove it?"

Durbe closed his eyes. "I… tried. I hurt Yuma Tsukumo in an effort to demoralize Astral into removing it. Humans react irrationally when the people they love are hurt in front of them."

"But it didn't work?" Pherka pressed.

"Obviously."

"Be careful with your tone, Durbe," Polara warned. "What happened this morning?"

Durbe shook his head. He didn't even know, exactly, but the others could never know that he had lost control over Kaito Tenjo. They would never let him have the kingdom or Haruto, and he needed both, even if it cost him Arclight. He tried his best to explain the events of the morning – had it been only less than half a day? – but faltered at the assassination attempt. All he could feel was Mizael's burning body, all he could hear were Mizael's anguished screams as Durbe tried to slow the poison.

Koche leaned forward. "Someone attempted to murder you in the confusion?"

"They hit my general," Durbe repeated firmly. "I'm more concerned about his life at the moment."

"Something doesn't make sense here." Alasco straightened up. "Prince Astral and Yuma Tsukumo were already out of the palace when this happened. Am I right?"

"Yes."

Alasco lifted an eyebrow. "So you're saying that two completely different groups of people attempted to use the execution for two entirely different reasons and you were unable to stop either?"

"No." Durbe shifted his weight. He had to be careful not to mention Kaito. "When Gilag awoke, he told me that Ryoga Kamishiro was responsible for attacking him. Doubtless the Dragoons were responsible for that. I have no more doubts that they returned to the palace to rescue the Healer. She went missing right after."

Polara's face was unreadable as she leaned back and gazed at the crystals hovering along the wall. "How did the Kamishiros find a way into the palace in the first place? And if they were responsible, they could never have done all of this on their own. They must have had help." She folded her hands on her lap. "Someone who knew the palace intimately."

How much do they suspect? But Durbe figured this into his defense. He didn't like having to lie, let alone to drag a kingdom that might be completely uninvolved in the whole affair into it. But he had no choice. "I think that there were assassins from Heartland involved."

He watched Alasco out of his peripheral. While the other lords looked surprised, Alasco barely blinked. If there were assassins involved, could one of the lords have been responsible? Alasco had never liked Durbe, had always called for Durbe to be demoted… but surely he wouldn't go as far as this?

"My, my," Ilya murmured. "That's a dangerous thing to assume. But we can't punish the whole kingdom for the act of a couple of mercenaries, can we?"

Silence fell. Durbe felt the blood rushing through his body and discreetly gripped his robes to keep his hands steady. He needed to leave, to help Mizael. But he didn't want to speak first.

Pherka broke the silence first. "Since this is your mess, you should clean it up, Durbe."

"Agreed," Koche said. "We should give you a couple of months to sort it out."

Polara nodded slowly. "Two months should suffice. In that time, if you can recapture Prince Astral and the Kamishiros, you will be forgiven." Durbe barely had time to exhale and nod before Polara finished. "If you do not, we will take the kingdoms from you. You will be demoted."

Two months was hardly enough time to do everything Durbe needed to do. His mental list of tasks to accomplish would take him at least six months to complete, more if he lost Mizael.

He couldn't lose Mizael. With Mizael back in decent health, they would have to start with Tenjo. Tapping Haruto's power was more important to his plans than anything else.

With a stiff bow, Durbe turned and left the room. The moment he closed the door, he slumped against the wall and closed his eyes again. He lifted his hand to his face and allowed himself a moment to fight back the burning tears slipping onto his cheeks.

For the first time in decades, he wasn't sure he would be able to save his homeland.