For the next few days, not much has happened as The Thirteen await the arrival of the body that was discovered out by Koga Village.
Through those days, Roxas would get up early every morning before dawn to train and then be taken away with Maleek for their run, and then returning to the training chamber of the castle. They would train until lunch, of which then Roxas is sent back to his chambers; though Maleek would often join him whenever he was free. Not that Roxas minded, but ever since what Kain had said, the loneliness that comes with his enormous chambers has often tried creeping up on him like a snake in the grass.
He never dwelled on it much, as he tries to mostly occupy himself by either attaining his goal by reading all of the books in his personal library, or training within his room, using whatever he can to exercise.
Then the day came when the body had finally arrived to the castle. It came in the late afternoon. Roxas had been enjoying reading his books on his plush, cloudlike bed when one of the guards outside his room popped in and informed him.
And hour later, flanked by the guards of his room, Roxas held his chin high as they strode through the halls towards the lower recesses of the castle. He smiles at the young court women as they passed – and smirks at the young chevaliers who eyed his gold-and-white jacket. He can't blame them; the suit is spectacular. And he is spectacular in it. Even Kuja, who Roxas had run into in the halls, had said so. Naturally, Roxas had offered Kuja to walk with him.
Roxas smiles smugly to himself as he and Kuja nod to a passing nobleman, who raised his eyebrows at the sight of him. He was immediately pale, Roxas noticed as he opened his mouth to say something, but Roxas continued down the hall.
They have now entered a small archway at the end of the hall and descend a spiraling set of stairs. Roxas recognizes this as one of the servant's passages. They continue down further and further until Roxas thinks they are underground. He would complain about going too far beneath the castle, but he remembers how members of the Thirteen probably want it delivered in the most discreet way possible. Because what would the citizens think if they saw guards delivering a dead corpse to King Sephiroth's castle?
They enter a hallway of stone now, lit by torches dotting along the walls. It mimics a dungeon, but there are no iron bar doors, just a single door at the end. Roxas' steps quicken at the rumbling of arguing male voices that echo off the stones as they near it.
Hurrying farther, Roxas ignores the click of Kuja's tongue as he makes it to the door and pushes, not even bothering to knock. He knew that smell all too well. The tang of blood and the stinging reek of decomposing flesh.
But he hadn't expected the sight of it. "Half-eaten" was a pleasant way to describe what was left of the male's rail-thin body.
In the room, there is the rest of the Thirteen and King Sephiroth huddled around a metal table. The room is rectangular, and towards the back are more wooden desks with books and papers and pens scattered about it. A metal chandelier hangs over the metal table, the light concentrated on the body, revealing all the details it could.
Kuja curses under his breath as he brushes past Roxas and finds a place around the metal table. "Holy Gods." He mutters.
"Roxas," King Sephiroth says. Roxas is surprised to find him dressed in a black tunic that barely conceals his muscles. He expected the king to be wearing royal colors even if being down in a haggard place such as this. "I'm glad you made it. I trust that you have been caught up on the situation."
Roxas merely nods. Maleek approaches Roxas and places a light hand on his back, encouraging Roxas o keep walking. "Glad you can make it." Maleek says.
Roxas approaches the table and peers at the body, glad for not shifting into his Elven form, because the smell of the corpse was enough to make him cough.
It looked like the husks that he and Reno had found out in the forest, only this time, more damage has been done to the body even after it had been drained.
The chest cavity had been split open and his vital organs removed. Unless someone had moved them upon finding the body, there is no trace of them. And his long face, stripped of its flesh, is still contorted in a silent scream.
There is a hole in the crown of the male's head, and Roxas can see that his brain is gone, too.
Roxas tries not to gape at it. He swallows as he asks. "You think those rival bandits did it?"
Kain lifts his head from the body as he sensed the question being directed at him. "I do, and I still do."
Fool. Roxas shakes his head. "There's no way they could've done this." Roxas immediately denies. "The body looks like its life has been sucked out of it. Whatever – or whoever – had gotten to it afterwards, I don't know."
"How are you so sure that these bandits don't possess the ability of magic? It's quite common in this area." Vincent asks, tucked away in the corner, but still with a descent view of the body.
Heads turn to him briefly before Seymour speaks up. "Reports say that there were smears of blood on the wall at the crime scene. It looked like someone had been writing, and then rubbed it away." He says grimly. His big hand is covering another sheet of paper of the scene, sketched in pencil, and Roxas can see enough of it through Seymour's fingers so see the bloodied marks. Trail drool down the wall until it meets the smears. "I've seen it before, have you Roxas?"
Oh yes he has. When he had conveniently walked in on Zexion and Aerith when they had bene trying to summon . . . something. And then that's when he encountered his first Heartless. And then again when he had used his own blood to draw arcane marks to summon Ventus.
But this has nothing to do with magic at all. And Roxas remembers his encounter with this killer as crisp and as sharp as a knife.
He bites his tongue. He didn't think he would have to, or would need to tell them what he had seen so early. In fact, he had hoped he wouldn't have to at all, but the moment he had seen the husk of the male's body, images of the woman, and of the others came flooding back into his head, breaking past the barricade he had built to keep them contained.
Not only that, but his anger and hatred towards this creature also submerged to the surface and his drive to see this thing dead is what had caused his sudden outburst.
But instead, Roxas says. "If those bandits wanted to intimidate us or give a message, they would do it quick and clean – a slit throat, a knife in the heart, a poisoned glass of wine. This is just plain tasteless. Those marks you mentioned, it makes this something more than a brutal killing. Ritualistic, perhaps. So I won't deny that there's magic involve."
Perhaps this goes beyond just that creature he had encountered in the hollows. It was blackness, and it leaves behind the bodies as husks once it drains all of its life and powers. But as for the arcane markings, it extends past just merely absorbing power. If the marks are used as part of rituals, they need to find out what they are used for exactly. What magic could be used once the body has been drained?
And that's what Roxas says as he continues to observe the body. "I've encountered this creature before. It was in Lesalia, so it's concerning to see how far is has traveled. But . . . when I encountered it, it enveloped me in darkness." Roxas turns away from the body, not wanting to look at how he could've turned out if he hadn't escaped. Everyone listens intently as he folds his arms and stares at his toes. "Everything felt the same; I could still feel the grass, smell the moisture in the air. There was just, darkness all around."
"What did you see?" Maleek asks softly as he takes delicate steps towards the assassin.
"It dragged me through my memories, quite literally; and it wasn't the pleasant ones." Roxas swallows as lump in his throat nearly cuts off. "And then my nose started to bleed, and my ears began to pound. And then the more I ran, I kept going through memory after memory, even ones I didn't know I had."
Members of the Thirteen listen closely, not interrupting once. All of their Elven eyes stare fixated on Roxas, and for some odd reason, he feels like the prey of a group of mountain lions.
"And when I finally broke through, my magic was out of control. I could feel it boiling and growing; scalding my throat. I screamed for my friend, Reno, and then I blacked out from the overwhelming magic."
"Do you think you might've just burned yourself out?" Seymour asks.
Roxas looks to him. "I what?"
"Every magic user has a breaking point. The burn out, it's when you overuse your power to the point where you literally, burn up from overuse." Cecil explains. "But if that were the case, I don't think you'd be here right now. Not many survive, as you can imagine."
Roxas looks back down the floor, staring at the toes of his boots. "I then woke up under the canopy of trees, and Reno was standing over me, making sure I was okay. After that, we went to a couple more towns to investigate, but the spots were still close to Ivalice."
"Do you think it might've followed you here?" Vincent suddenly asks.
While everyone's attention turns to him, Roxas swallows down his sudden hysteria. What if it did follow him here? Does that makes these deaths all his fault? What if it liked his misery and wanted more? Was it searching for him?
Roxas was so lost in the thought, his panic rising that he barely hears Maleek when he says. "You're pale."
Roxas looks up and feels his cheeks. He takes a deep breath and sighs.
"Roxas, it's just a question."
"But what if it's true. It's plausible." Roxas admits, his voice suddenly cold. "Then all of these deaths could be my fault –"
"It's only been one so far." Maleek counters.
"The first of many." Roxas can see Laguna and Edge glare at Vincent, who shrugs his shoulders.
"Look Roxas, no one is blaming you. We're lucky to have you here because you survived it. And remember, this still could be a creation of the bandits, so let's just focus on them." Maleek says as he turns back towards the rest of the Thirteen. Maleek walks over to one of the desks in the back and brushes aside a couple papers before turning back. "We had gotten word that one of them is in the city. Reason why, we're still unsure. But there's no doubt he'd be looking for a fight."
"Unless he just needs a drink and supplies." Laguna smirks.
"He and his bandits know Valendia is our territory. If he dares sets foot in the city, I saw we cut it off." Speaks one of the members that Roxas doesn't remember. It's the one with the hawk-curved nose and his affinity for knives.
"We're not just some lowlife thugs." Vincent says, he then turns to Roxas. "No offense."
Something about his comment rubs Roxas the wrong way, and he narrows his eyes. "I'm from an Assassin's Guild, smartass. We're smart, clean and respected. Bandits merely think for gold."
"And you didn't?" Vincent challenges.
Roxas gives a smile with sweet venom. "My father had his money, and me and his men spent most of our lives in luxury. But I won't bore you with the details as I'm sure they're far out of your knowledge of understanding."
Vincent narrows his eyes now, and pushes off the column he was leaning against and gets ready to approach Roxas, but Kain actually blocks him with his Holy Lance. The two of them exchange a glaring match for the ages. But then Vincent sighs, shoving away the weapon and glares at Roxas before leaning back against the column.
"Anyway," Maleek interjects. "We're sending out just a small number since it's nothing we can't handle."
"What you know about your enemy can be dangerous to him. What you think you know, it can be dangerous to you." King Sephiroth quotes. All heads turn to him. Roxas had forgotten he was even there. He almost wants to bow in apologies.
"What are you saying, Your Highness? That we should all go?" Cecil asks. Even in this limited light, his pearl white armor seems to give a heavenly glow.
"I don't doubt your skills, my son. But understand that I do worry." King Sephiroth says, placing his hands on the shoulders of both Cecil and Laguna.
"Your Majesty, we are not children." Edge says rolling his eyes.
"But you are like my children. You all know this. We have been together since we were all younglings. You are my family and my friends; and I will say this to you over and over: Please, be careful."
"Yes Your Majesty." Everyone but Roxas murmurs, the sound blending all together.
With that, the king nods to the group of Elven warriors and heads for the door. He stops just before Roxas. The assassin's heart skips a beat. Not knowing what to do or say, he simply bows and says. "I'll be careful, Your Majesty."
Roxas hears snickers from some of the members as he rises, but he merely clears his throat. Still King Sephiroth stares at him, and then Roxas can see it – that same exact sadness, that dreadfully, aching sadness he had seen in Maleek.
And he wasn't prepared for what the King did next.
His Highness lifts his hand and actually caresses Roxas' face. Roxas stiffens, trying his best to refrain from pulling back and masking his shock. He feels that anything he does will show signs of his nervousness: a swallow, an exhale through the nose, taking a deep breath, or even blinking.
So he stands as still as a statue and simply focuses on the odd warmth that he feels emanating from King Sephiroth's hand. Roxas blinks as the king's thumb strokes his cheek. The sadness doesn't go away, but Roxas watches it retreat behind a cold wall in his eyes. Gainsborough eyes.
Gods, it's scary to actually stare into them – because they're his eyes. A stunning turquoise with a core of gold as bright as their hair. Their hair – the only difference between them, although, sometimes from certain angles and when in certain lighting, Roxas' could've been the same shade.
"Please come back safely." King Sephiroth mumbles. Roxas felt unnerved when he thought he saw the king's eyes glisten. Before he can get a better look, the king blinks and leaves the room without as much as a single goodbye.
Roxas stares after him until he is swallowed up by the guards that follow after him in his wake. He then turns to the other members, Cecil starting to drape a tarp over the husk of a body. His eyes fall on Maleek. "What was that about?"
Maleek, who was scribbling down coordinates on a map, looks to Roxas, then the door where the king had vacated, and then back at Roxas. He gives a mere shrug of his shoulders. "Don't know. His Highness can be a little emotional at times."
Roxas looks back towards the path and sighs. Something seemed, different; and it was in the way he had looked at Roxas. Still, Roxas has no choice to leave it as he turns to Maleek. "So what do we do now?"
"Well, some of us have to prep the body for burial, meanwhile, you need to prep for your trip to the village. You excited? It'll be your first trip out of the castle." Maleek grins.
Roxas rolls his eyes but follows the captain out while Seymour and Cecil stay behind with body to examine it further.
He and Maleek are the last ones out as the group file up the stairs to the first floor.
"So who will I be with?" Roxas asks.
"I've decided to group you with Laguna, Edge, myself, and Vincent."
"Very well. I should've known you would be coming along." Roxas sighs as the group slowly starts to divide. Kain and Edge go down one hallway, Kuja and Laguna another and Vincent simply takes the lead on his own. If he is listening, he sure doesn't show any care.
"That should be a given by now." Maleek grins, elbowing Roxas in the ribs.
The assassin returns it, smiling as he manages to get past Maleek's arm, intended on guarding his middle.
For a moment, they walk in silence; Roxas attention drifting to the way Vincent's long, ebony hair sways opposite with his steps. And then Roxas frowns. "What if it really is my fault this thing is here?"
He hears Maleek sigh in annoyance at the rebuttal. "Roxas –"
"You can't deny that it's all coincidental." Roxas immediately interjects. "You've had no problems until I arrive."
"That's not true." Maleek shakes his head. "This has been going on even while you were in Gollund Mines."
Vincent carefully angles his head slightly, barely peering over his shoulder.
"In fact, it's been more of a problem ever since your trial." Maleek sighs. "Now I will tell you the truth. The attacks were numerous beforehand, and yet, when you were went to Gollund, things degraded for a short time, and then it had gotten worse." Roxas' eyes widen as he stares at Maleek. "Bodies by the thrice were showing up scattered about. We didn't see a definite pattern, kind of like it was desperate and just left the corpse to move on."
It was looking for me. It was desperate because I was like a treasure chest of gold.
"And now that I'm out?" Roxas dares himself to ask.
"Reports have stayed the same." Maleek says. "Please know, I do understand what had happened to you when you faced it, and I'm throwing every bit of caution into this by sending you out."
Roxas doesn't bother saying that he'll be fine. Because he won't. It's not that he's afraid of finding or facing the creature – he has enough anger and hatred to smother his fear. It's just, this creature has done a decent job at being unpredictable and anonymous. These bandits might not even be related with it, but still, he is itching for something to do until the Thirteen decides to head out to Koga Village.
"I appreciate that." Is all Roxas says before he excuses himself as they pass a familiar adjacent hallway, and he sees the Galtea guards posted in front of the prince's room.
After knocking on the doors two times, the prince answers and smiles when he beholds Roxas. After a simple exchange, the prince was more than happy to join the assassin on a walk in the castle gardens.
They walk among the rose-dotted hedges, and Roxas can't help but smiles. The clinking of the prince's guards' armor sounds as they remain two steps behind them. It surprised Roxas that the roses were still in bloom in this time of the season. Then again, Valendia does get a majority of summer weather.
They pass a small line of neatly-trimmed bushes and Roxas brushes his fingertips against the soft petals. Beside him, Kiros chuckles. Roxas turns to the prince. "What?"
"You have this kind of fascination in your eyes when you look at flowers." Kiros smiles.
Roxas' cheeks flush, but he smiles too. He has reason to appreciate even the tiniest of beauty that might go unnoticed by everyone else. Being in a mine where the only color is of brown of filth and stone, and the red of blood, seeing something else, something different, it makes him appreciate the beauty in everything. No matter how twisted the world it belongs in.
Roxas turns to the prince. "Don't you have an admiration for small things?"
"I will admit, I do. Even I am not above a bit of attachment." The prince says in the common tongue, his Galtea accent slightly less thick.
"Oh!" Roxas exclaims, smiling. "That was very good! One lesson, and you're already putting me to shame!" Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said of Roxas' Galtea.
Kiros beams. "They do look beautiful." He says in Galtea.
"And the lovely sunset does help." Roxas says. There are twelve of them all together, forming a large circle around a solitary fountain. Each of them were colored different color of the rainbow. Even though Roxas had only seen a few of rainbows in his time, they bring a smile to his face instantly. The idea of seeing the colors, the way it arches over the sky. "So, what did you make of the Thirteen, I don't believe I've asked you."
"They are incredible." Kiros says buoyantly, and heads towards the hedges that border the courtyard. "They are just as domineering as I had been told." He adds over his shoulder. "Though I did expect a few to be taller."
Roxas pulls his cloak tighter around him as he follows after the prince. Snow still start falling in a matter of days, bringing them closer to Samhain – and the visit to Koga Village, still two months away from what Kain had discreetly informed Roxas. He savors the heat from his cloak, remembering all too well the winter he'd spent in Gollund Mines. Winter was unforgiving when you lived in the shadow of Germinas Mountains. It was a miracle he hadn't gotten frostbite. If he went back, another winter might kill him.
"You look troubled, my friend." Kiros says when Roxas reaches his side, and puts a hand on his arm.
"I'm fine." Roxas says in Galtea, smiling for Kiros' sake. "I don't like winter."
"I've never seen snow." Kiros says, looking at the sky. "I wonder how long the novelty will last."
"Hopefully long enough for you to not mind the drafty corridors, freezing morning, and days without sun."
Kiros laughs. "You should come to Galtea with me when I return – and make sure you stay long enough to experience one of our blistering summers. Then you'll appreciate your freezing mornings and days without sun."
Roxas had already spent one blistering summer in the heat of the Zeklaus Desert, but to tell Kiros that would only invite difficult questions. Instead, he says: "I would love to see Galtea very much."
Kiros' gaze lingers on Roxas' brow for a moment before he grins. "Then it shall be so."
Roxas' eyes brighten, and he tilts his head back so he can see the castle looming above them. "I hope the Thirteen had managed to give that unnamed body a proper burial."
"My bodyguards tell me that the man was . . . very violently killed."
"To say the least." Roxas murmurs, watching the shifting colors of the fading sun turn the castle gold and red and blue. Despite the ostentatious nature of the glass castle, he has to admit that it does look rather beautiful at times.
"You saw the body? My guards weren't allowed close enough."
Roxas nods slowly. "I'm sure you don't want to know the details."
"Indulge me." Kiros presses, smiling tightly.
Roxas raises an eyebrow. "Well – I only saw pictures, but . . . there was blood smeared everywhere. On the walls, on the floor."
"Smeared?" Kiros says, his voice dropping into a hush. "Not splattered?"
"I think so. Like someone had rubbed it on there. There were a few magical arcane marks painted, but most had been rubbed away." He shook his head at the image that arose. "And the man's body was missing its vital organs – like someone had split him open from neck to navel, and – I'm sorry, you look like you're going to be ill. I shouldn't have said anything."
"No. Keep going. What else was missing?"
Roxas pauses for a moment before saying: "His brain. Someone had made a hole in the top of his head, and his brain was gone. And the skin from his face had been ripped off."
Kiros nods, staring at a barren bush in front of them. The prince chews on his bottom lip, and Roxas notes that his fingers curled and uncurled at his sides of his long, white cape. A cold breeze blew past them, making Kiros' multitude of fine, thin braids sway. The gold woven into his braids clink softly.
"I'm sorry." Roxas says. "I should've have –"
A step falls behind them, and before Roxas can whirl, a female voice says: "Sir Tobias."
Roxas immediately freezes. His tenses as a simple servant of the castle comes to stand next to them. She is slightly breathless, her exhales turning into tendrils in front of her face, her cheeks flushed red. She bows in front of Roxas, who is very much aware of Kiros' narrowed eyes and mouth slightly agape in question.
He would've gutted the servant right there, but that would only provoke the prince's guards to attack. And truthfully, she doesn't deserve it. She didn't know. He doesn't dare look at Kiros, and only hopes his understanding of the common language is still weak enough for him not to have understood.
"Sir, the other members are ready to depart to the city."
Roxas tries his best to keep his face stern. "Ah yes, very well. P-Please, take me to them immediately."
"Rox –"
"I'm sorry, Your Highness." Roxas immediately interjects the prince. He bows low, his face flushed and his eyes welling up. When he rises, he looks the prince straight in the eyes and hopes, prays, that he will understand and allow Roxas to explain himself when he returns. "I'm so, so sorry. But I must be off on my mission of investigation. Might I stop by your chambers when I return?" Roxas says in Galtea.
Please, please. Roxas begs.
Kiros blinks a few times, sighs through his nose and squares his shoulders, chin high. His face grows stern, masking his confusion and hurt with a face of damning superiority and practiced control of his regal classes in Galtea. He is fighting off a scowl, but his nostrils flare. "If I can find the time, Sir Tobias." he says with perfect pronunciation in the common tongue.
Or the care, is what he doesn't have to say, as Roxas can see it as the prince's eyes burn through his soul.
With that, the prince turns away and the guards follow after towards the opposite end of the hedges. They flank the prince, blocking Roxas' view. His cheeks flush with embarrassment and his throat tightens with hurt.
The prince doesn't look back.
"Sir Tobias." The servant chimes.
Roxas flinches at the name and nearly scowls when he turns to her. But he quickly forces his face to slack and sighs. "Yes, yes. Please, take me to them." He says with a wave of his hand.
The servant scurries off ahead and Roxas follows with heavy footsteps. His hands tremble. He hadn't intended to tell Prince Kiros his reasons for being here because he hadn't intended on him finding out. Clearly, Laguna had introduced him as himself, but hadn't given reasons as to why. Kiros hadn't bother to ask questions, but now . . . now he will, that if he ever wishes to see Roxas again after his deception.
As Roxas follows the servant and nods to her as she holds the door open for him. He continues to follow her silently, nodding to her whenever she looked back.
But all the while, he can't stop picturing the prince in his chambers. Probably sitting on an elegant divan with a scowl on his face, hands folded in his lap. Probably damning Roxas for his secrecy, thinking Roxas is just like every other secretive, deceitful, and ignorant fool in this castle.
Roxas' eyes sting as he spots the double doors up head.