CHAPTER XXXVII
Van sat on his chair and sighed, tired. He turned to the window and smiled slightly.
"Don't you wonder where he's headed?" he asked.
Stelius nodded pensively. "It's his right to go wherever he pleases, and he no longer has the obligation to inform of his whereabouts."
"Are you pleased that he decided to quit?" Van asked, frowning faintly. "Maybe he should have simply retired."
"Having given up his status of Caeli, the ranks can't pull him back in for any reason, while being retired, he can be asked to return in an emergency. I think Allen wanted to make it clear he wants his connection to the Caeli severed completely." Stelius let his hands rest on the table, leaning forward. "Having cleared the fact of how joyous we both are about Allen being free, could we perhaps return to the matter at hand, Milord?"
Van glanced at him. "Why are you in charge of this, Stelius?"
"Don't I wonder?" sighed the older man. "I understand it's upsetting, and I apologize, but—"
Van straightened. "What? Why should it be upsetting? You're one of my closest friend, my most trusted advisor… it only makes sense you deal with the details of my wedding, right?"
"I'm not your family." Stelius said softly. "This should be your father, your brother—I can tell you're troubled, Van. Why don't we talk about this so I can help you?"
"I'm worried about the timing." Van said at last, reluctantly. "I want to marry her so badly, Stelius—but everything's so messed up right now. The winter will be here any moment now, and things with the activists and everything is getting increasingly dangerous. In only four months, to work all this out…"
"It'll be hard, but you've been in tighter spots, Your Majesty."
Van sat forward in the chair, pushing back his hair nervously.
His Second-in-Command sat himself across the table from him, sighing. "Milord, I can help you—but this is your marriage. You need to be involved. You can't do it all at the same time. You're going to have to establish priorities and I seriously think the ceremony should be your first." He dropped the notes he had in his hand and sat back, entwining his fingers and looking at Van attentively. "You want to tell me what you want me to do so I can make this easier or you want me to keep swimming in the dark?"
Van glanced at him, and got up to walk to the window. Stelius' sharp blue eyes followed him steadily. Van seemed to hesitate, but finally made up his mind. "Stelius, the reason I insisted Hitomi should visit Asturia is because I want to ask you to deal with the activists."
The man's eyebrows shot up in surprise, then slowly sank down to a straight line in comprehension. "I see." He said slowly, his tone monotonous.
Van grit his teeth. "Well?"
"If you give me an order, don't expect me to defy you."
"You can refuse it."
"Soldiers don't refuse orders from their Kings." Replied the older man, his eyes like ice as he gazed at Van with no expression. "May I enquire as to the nature of my mission, and my boundaries?"
The transition from informal familiar treatment to cold formality struck Van like a slap on the cheek, but he swallowed and bulled on.
"Stelius, you're right—I need to be involved in my wedding and I can't take care of the activists at the same time. It's too demanding. You're my most trusted man—it's only natural…"
"Yes, you already established your will to make me command this mission, may be move forward on the details?"
It was like crashing against a stone. Van clenched his fists.
"I want you to clean the streets of the city of all the activists causing riots and instigating violence. Also, make sure the citizens don't take the matter onto their own swords, or deliberately provoke the Zaibachians. I'd like—I want you to do it as quietly and as little bloodshed as possible. Put them in jail, and they'll be trialed."
"Certainly, Your Majesty." Stelius' icy gaze turned to the window, absent. "And say, when you sent away Hitomi, which one of us were you protecting from the other?"
Van stared at him evenly. Then, in a low, dangerous tone of voice, "You expect me to tell you I don't think what you did in the War was monstrous?"
Stelius' low smile almost made him flinch. "Why lie? Neither of us will believe it. So is that what you're afraid of, Milord? Of Hitomi seeing me as a hunter?"
"I'm afraid of you as a hunter." The King said softly.
The change in Stelius' eyes was subtle, but it was enough to tell Van that the man he knew was back. The Second-in-Command of Fanelia drew his eyes away, yielding to his King, and cleared his throat.
"What about preventive jail? I won't be able to recollect evidence for all of them."
"Ah, yes. I'll trial them anyway, so go ahead with that. I just want the least amount of violence possible."
"I might be the wrong person for this." Stelius said firmly. "You should ask someone else."
"I want to do this as the Head of State, and I can't, and you're my closest representative."
Stelius nodded shortly and stood. "Understood." He said, nodding. "I'll do my best. You deserve that."
"Great. And now one more thing—Hitomi has to have a man to surrender her to me in the wedding…"
"Forget it. I'm not making any decisions for that girl. I like my head where it sits. Just tell her and she'll choose someone."
"Would you shut up? I wasn't going to ask—"
The door to the office swung open, one of the servants rushing inside. He kneeled and bowed his head, shaken. "Your Highness, forgive me, I tried to stop them but the gypsy Lords insist in seeing you and will not leave!"
"Oh? Let them in." Van said, straightening.
Tremin and one more man stormed into the office without another glance at the servant as he rushed away.
"Tremin, any news from Asturia? I know you get the news quicker than me."
"Forget Asturia, you have bigger problems." Tremin said, showing him a small note, evidently one of the type they used to communicate between clans, but not giving it to him because it was in their strange language. "Basram has fallen into revolution."
Van and Stelius lurched forward at the same time. The King gripped the back of the chair in front of him, pale. "When? Where's Mikoh?"
"We don't know. We're searching for him, but given the circumstances" Tremin tilted his head in a subtle but expressive gesture. "I'd give him for lost."
"No. Stelius, gather the troops, I'll send him help, at least a way to get out of Basram."
Stelius didn't move, his eyes bitter.
"What is it?" Van asked, suspicious, when no one moved.
"You're stuck." Tremin said. "Have you forgotten? Fanelia is to be judged in front of the Board in three month's time. Until then, you can't mobilize militia, especially not to other countries."
Van felt the blood run cold in his veins. He swallowed.
"You're saying… I have to let Mikoh—die?"
His question was met with silence.
"You're both out of your minds—Mikoh's my friend!"
"You're being foolish, but that's fine." Tremin said, giving one step closer to van in what was obviously a menacing stance. Van didn't surrender an inch, and they stared at each other squarely. "My Lady said you would."
Van's eyes widened slightly. "She gave you orders to keep me here?" he asked, a dangerous edge to his voice, anger rising brusquely in his chest.
"Understand, Fanel. You can't do anything to help him. If you do, you'll doom Fanelia. I'm assuming your responsibilities to your land far outweigh those of your friendships. It's part of being a King. You will always be forced to choose and you will always choose Fanelia." He paused for a moment. "She asked me to tell you that. Also, she has asked the Basaramian clan to mobilize. Their orders are to avoid direct confrontation, but secure the King's life and safe passage to Agravian borders. Topaz has also been informed and is already on way to Basram.
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..
The day had started well enough. Tulio, who had been particularly attentive to Mikoh's needs as of late, had noticed that the man was more relaxed.
"Hey, you finished early." The ghoul said when Mikoh finished the last state affairs document and leaned back in the chair.
"Hn. My head hurts." As little as it was, an admittance of discomfort was a long way from what Mikoh had been at the beginning, and Tulio was ready to grab whatever wreckage he could get within reach, if he meant to pull this boat back together like he had been asked to.
"You should lie down." Niamh said, rising from her chair and leaving her book on the table nearby. "At least on the couch. Tulio, stay with him." She ordered. "Do you need me to help you sleep?" she asked standing by his side.
"No, I'll be alright." He replied, smoothly getting to his feet, only inches taller than Niamh. "You're leaving the household." He observed.
"Only for a couple of hours." She confirmed. "My father has called upon me. I will be back before dinnertime."
Mikoh nodded, still looking over one of the documents that lay over his desk. He leaned forward a little to pick it up and Tulio saw Niamh narrow her striking eyes.
"You won't kiss me before I leave?" she asked without smiling.
Tulio knew they had shared a bedroom—it was evident in the way they moved around each other now, but he also knew Mikoh's nature was not that of being openly affectionate. The only times he was not a good looking block of ice was around his little brother, and he had sent Meloi away to protect him—and himself.
If he was a stone about everything else, he was amazingly sheepish when it came to his relationship with the Lady of the Forests. While he was certainly not submissive—in fact, Niamh had made a comment about him being too dominant to Pan once, something Tulio had overheard very much to his regret—he appeared unwilling to fight her. It made Tulio wonder about the nature of his affairs with other women, and just how many women he had actually shared a bed with. He was certainly no playboy, Mikoh.
So now, when instead of kissing her like she asked, he remained looking at the document, even as his hand grasped her wrist, Tulio knew that he was taking his time only to make sure she understood that he wouldn't do anything simply because she commanded it, but rather because he felt like it.
Niamh didn't seem to mind giving him control, even if she was terribly firm in everything else concerning him, starting from how many hours he slept to how much he ate. It had to be pointed out that Mikoh certainly looked much healthier, which made him quite striking.
A moment later, he tilted her head up gently and kissed her, drawing her near his body. Her hands went to his chest, but he drew away shortly after.
"Go on." He said against her lips. "You father waits." And he moved away from her completely.
"Get some sleep, Mikoh." She said as she opened the door.
He nodded over his shoulder, and went to lay down on the couch, picking up the book he was currently reading.
Tulio rearranged the logs on the fire so that it would give more heat, and thought about what changes a woman could operate on a man simply by standing near him. He had been watching closely, but he had missed whatever gesture Niamh had made that had finally sent Mikoh over the edge he had been tittering in. The bond between them was a good one, one Tulio could not object to. It did good things for Mikoh.
He twirled the long iron in his bony hand and turned around to look over the tall blonde man as he lay comfortably in the couch, actually lazing around for once. Behind him, the servant girl—the one he had slept with before and that was terribly afraid of Niamh—was preparing tea for him.
Niamh had told the girl she was no longer needed, and that her services would not be called upon again. The maid had said she understood, but had asked Mikoh to let her stay in the household and continue to serve him. Naturally, he had denied the request, but the convoy that would take her to her house in the east of the kingdom was yet to arrive, and for the time being Mikoh had consented her to stay in his service. Tulio doubted he even knew her name.
It was Kala. Tulio amused himself disturbing her, but she sort of liked her. If only she had been prettier, she probably would have found a husband while she stayed in the capital under Mikoh's wing. The King obviously wouldn't have minded one way or the other; he could easily have found another woman for his needs, since they practically threw themselves at him.
"Mikooohh." The ghoul said, still twirling the iron around his arm as if it were a spear.
"Allow me a guess. You are bored."
"Let's go out! I'm sick of being inside!"
"Some of us amuse ourselves reading, Tulio." He glanced up. "Do you even know how to read?"
"I could read before your mother was born, fag." Was the loving reply.
"Again, Tulio, words I don't understand don't insult me." He said for the hundredth time.
"Besides" the ghoul added with disdain. "I don't got no books to read."
"You can burrow one of mine."
Tulio snapped his head at him, bewildered, and the iron hit him in the back of the head right above the nape with a sickening crack. Mikoh arched his eyebrows.
"I can touch your stuff?" the ghoul asked, unbelieving.
Mikoh felt the urge to clarify. "Only the books. And if you scratch them, I'll have your skin."
"Some good it would make you." Tulio laughed. There was nothing between his skin and his bones except the tendons and nerves necessary to exercise reflexes.
The girl placed the tray with the tea cup in the table in front of the couch Mikoh was in and looked at Tulio.
"Would you like some of the liquor, sir?" she asked politely.
"Sure, thanks." The girl nodded and went to the desk near the door again. From where Tulio was, Mikoh was right in front of him, the back of the couch to the door.
There was an unusual silence that weighed down on Tulio, made him uneasy. He could not comprehend the machinations of a human mind, but he could feel the turmoil in a heart, and that was what warned him.
"Get down!" he growled, lurching forward and throwing the table to the side in his rush to grab Mikoh's shirt and drag him off the couch into the floor, just as the door swung open. Mikoh's brow hit against the leg of the couch and a trickle of blood ran down his temple. Tulio forced him to keep his head down.
"Where is he?" asked one of the men, facing the girl. Tulio grasped Mikoh's wrist tightly and motioned for him to stay still.
"He's not here!" Kala said. Poor innocent girl, she was trying to buy time for Mikoh. Well, Tulio wasn't going to throw her efforts away. Instead, he swung the iron over his head and crashed it against the window, that shattered into a million fragments of broken glass and wood. Then, he proceeded to pull
Mikoh half to his feet and invite him to follow the iron out the window. He was heavy, since he was so tall, but Tulio was a ghoul.
"Get him!" cried the man that was apparently in charge, grabbing the girl's chirt by the collar and yanking her to him.
"I object." Tulio said succinctly, and drove his claws into one of the men's belly, ripping out some organ or the other as he twirled to do the same to the next. The third one dodged, but Tulio racked his claws down his thigh, severing the artery hidden deep in the flesh, and when the man fell down, he neatly slit his throat.
He licked his fingers, eyes glowing, as he stared at the leader, whom held the girl close. Terrific, a hostage. Another thing Tulio didn't need.
"Alright, let's negotiate." The ghouls said, hiding his tongue between his shark like teeth and tilting his spiky head.
"No."
He stabbed his sword into the girl's stomach, all the way to the hilt. She choked in pain, blood coming to her lips before she collapsed to the floor, sliding out of the blade on her own weight.
And just like that, she was dead.
Tulio's eyes exploded inward and tinted completely black.
"I'll rip you to shreds." He said quietly, and lunged forward.
The man surprised him by dodging and ducking, but Tulio shot out his hand and gripped his ankle.
"Ye ain't going nowhere, corpse." He said darkly, sinking his claws on the flesh between his fingers and making him cry out in pain. He dragged him closer, even as the man struggled, his eyes b right with fury and bloodlust, and yanked him up by the throat. "No point prayin'. Where I'm taking ye, there's no gods."
He sank his teeth in his neck as far as they would go and ripped the entire thing off, enjoying the revenge as the warm blood trickled down his skin. He spit the head off and turned to the men that remained in the room, frozen in horror and pain.
"Didn't think I could do harm, short as this, eh? Humanity is doomed because you think you're better than us."
Half a minute later all were dead, and Tulio felt a pleasurable tingle in his nerves as the blood dripped off his claws and jaws.
A sudden sound erupted through his senses and he grabbed Mikoh's sword by the door and jumped out the window.
The first snow of the season and already it was tainted with blood. As expected, Mikoh was holding his own remarkably with a sword he has borrowed from a freshly made corpse. He was surrounded, though, and a deep wound had drenched his shirt with blood on his left flank, low under the ribs in a dangerous place. Tulio landed by his side, skidding in the snow.
"What is this? They surrounded the House?"
"Evidently." Was all Mikoh said, the breath turning into a cloud of steam as it left his pale lips. Tulio saw he was shaking, but didn't know whether it was due to cold, blood loss of sheer rage.
Tulio understood this strategy. They were all obviously, visibly even afraid of Mikoh. His skill as a warrior was famous across Gaea as the only man except Allen Schezard that was capable of defeating Van Fanel in fair fight, and these men were not nearly at his height.
But as blood soaked Mikoh's clothing, Tulio understood. Mikoh was magnificent, but he was still one man. He couldn't defeat an army, or even a battalion, of half trained men. That' why he was keeping this position, with his back to the house where Tulio had been guarding him, trying to stay clear of being surrounded because that was certain death.
Tulio took one last long look at Mikoh's heaving chest, at his skin that grew paler by the second in his sensitive supernatural eyes, and the stain that grew on his flank every time he moved, and made a decision.
Pan was going to have his skin as a carpet on his cave, but Tulio had long since decided he would be on Mikoh's side for a while, and now was when he was needed the most.
She hunched over, growling, and felt the bones in his spine snap and elongate, his skin growing tighter. Mikoh heard, but he was much too wise in battles to turn around and look. Tulio's skin turned to a deep fiery red, the ends of his limbs black as charcoal. This was his battle self, the true war ghoul he had been born and raised to be, and what had been denied to him as punishment for disobedience.
Spikes of sharp bone erupted from his spine and arms, lethal, and he rose high over the men's heads. The horns above his forehead curled into dangerous weapons and his canines protruded into sharp fangs as he ripped two spikes from his elbows and made them shift into long double blades, twirling them in his fingers.
"Gametime." He murmured to himself, before neatly sliding his blade into a man's head and down to his crotch like it was butter under his knife and not flesh and bone. He knew he was a horrifying sight to his enemies and took full advantage of it as he swiftly moved around Mikoh, letting the man take a breath.
"I didn't know you could look like a decent creature." The King commented quietly as he slipped his sword from its long scabbard and threw away the other one he had stolen. The fine balance of his own blade rewarded him with much swifter moves, but the increased weight strained his injured side. He was starting to be out of breath, feeling confused and slow, unsteady on his feet.
Tulio noticed, purposefully tuned to the sound of the man's breathing, and cursed loudly. He swung his blades one last time, and then turned around.
At this pace Mikoh wasn't living to tell and he wouldn't allow that.
He whirled around and slipped his hands under Mikoh's arms, lifting him and carrying him like a child.
"What are you doing?" the man yelled, outraged.
"Desperate times and so on." The ghoul said, trying his best to hold the man and not impale him in his spikes. He was a war creature, not a freaking work mule; he wasn't designed to carry people!
He jumped over the roof of the household, his beast like rear legs pushing strongly. He jumped from top to top across the central garden to the front, but there he found a true battle between the men that were trying to kill Mikoh and those who remained loyal and gave their lives to protect him.
"Crap," he murmured, black eyes wide. "this is serious shit."
"They're my men! Tulio, take me down there."
"My estimate is you'll last five minutes, and I ain't aiding suicide."
"Take me down!" the man commanded, but didn't struggle, because he was all too aware of the several dangerous spikes very close to his body and the quickly weakening of his muscles as blood trickled into his boot.
"Forget it."
The ghoul rose the spiked from his back to erect position, a full battle stance, and went to the side of the house. He dropped off the roof then, the snow crunching under his feet
"Mikoh, where's the gypsy village?" he asked as he started running, or brusquely bouncing over his rear legs, trying to be as gentle as possible with Mikoh's injured boy in his arms. "Mikoh! Niamh said take you there!"
He didn't answer. Tulio froze and looked down. Mikoh was dead! He cringed and shook him brusquely, panicking. "MIKOH! Mikoh wake up! Mi—"
"Shut up." The man mumbled in irritation, his head lolling on his shoulder. "I'm fine."
"Fine my spiky ass, you're deader than your dad! Where's the village?"
"Mountains… across the forest."
Tulio went off running as fast as he could, choosing to favor speed instead of comfort in case Mikoh's life was running out right there. He headed for the forests, intent on bulling right through them, when a sharp pain on his back preceded the eruption of a hunting harpoon right through his chest.
He was pulled off his feet and fell on his face, crushing Mikoh under his weight. The cry of pain that ripped from the man's throat made him flinch in horror and he jumped to crouch by him as Mikoh turned on his side, panting heavily and grabbing his side.
Tulio turned to look over his shoulder as a group of horses ran towards them. The harpoon through his torso pulled, evidently trying to control him, but Tulio cut the line with his claws and gently grabbed Mikoh's shoulders to right him.
"Kid, you gotta run." He said softly, pulling him to his feet and turning him to the forest. "I'll guard your back, but you gotta get to the gypsies, Mikoh."
"You're hurt."
"I'm immortal, but I don't know how to protect someone else. They do, so get to them, Mikoh, please."
Mikoh grit his teeth. "But—"
"LEAVE!" the ghoul thundered, pushing him away violently. When Mikoh hesitated again, he ripped the air right before him with his claws, roaring fiercely.
The man stared a him a moment longer, his expression unreadable, before he turned and ran.
"Hi, my name is Tulio." Tulio said as he rose, ripping the harpoon from his torso noisily. He ripped the stakes from his arms and made double bladed spears, assuming an aggressive battle stance, all his spikes fiercely standing. "And this is me on a bad day."
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Alright, this is the war starting, since I hear some complaints about lack of action around. Plus it was about time. I understand the whole break thing is terrible, it fractures the flow of the story, but when I attempted other things it was either impossible to understand or the net didn't who it for some reason… I'll try putting dots (……) and see if it works. Maybe that'll go smoothly.
I've heard your advices and I agree, I need a beta. If anyone is willing to offer, I'll be very grateful, but please understand what you're in for; you've read this story so far. You know the length of my chapters and my manner of writing, and I understand it could be tedious for anyone to have to beta them. Still, I'd very much appreciate the favor. Please consider it.
Also, I'd like to take this chance to let you all know Pocahontas is just a name I love, and I love the character design of the Disney movie, which doesn't mean I'm gonna pop a John Smith on your faces or start talking about native American rights. Don't worry I really just like the name! It has a wild sound to it, and I wanted her to be particularly wild. My Pocahontas was originally destined to be Allen's counterpart before I decided to eliminate that idea, and I wanted her to be strong and fierce. You'll understand why Allen needs his space lol
Anyway, thanks for continue reading!! I'll try to keep doing my best and I'm very grateful for your support!!
Namariel, out!