Chapter 35: The Twisting Dimension
I'd been rethinking my escape plan since waking up on this day.
After a filling brunch, I checked myself out of the inn. Lodging was more expensive than meals, and food was more essential. If I need be, I could lay low in a warehouse overnight. This would likely prove necessary.
When I initially left that prison complex wearing Jelmz's gear, I believed escape was a simple matter of discovering my location and contacting Edgar. However, I realized that was too simple. Even if the King and I somehow arranged an extraction of myself, what then? Surely my captors would take note and intervene. They wanted me here, and they sure as hell wouldn't let me go quietly.
As I'd concluded already, my captors weren't rookies. They had numbers, resources, and they surely had tactical ideas, though I hadn't learned the specifics. Those weird beings with oval jewels set in their foreheads were another asset. Additionally, they meant business, dirty business. Kidnapping me was only the tip of the iceberg. That they actually got in my own backyard from…wherever this place was…showed talent and organization. They were efficient, and malicious. If I escaped with the Returners' help, it would not be forgotten. They'd come after me once more. What else was on their agenda?
Someone like Edgar had every reason to know about these people and their shady dealings. I couldn't just bail out upon naming this place. There were secrets that needed to be found, and only I could find them. Learning all I could about this new foe paralleled getting out.
The means to accomplish this was exactly what I'd done thus far; explore.
When I first gazed upon this strange town, details had slipped my mind. However, since I was more focused on info-collecting now, I made out features I'd previously overlooked. To the east was a tall building off in the distance, a few miles by a rough estimation. It was tallest building around here, and that meant something. A significant place like a fortress or citadel would look like that, the perfect area to learn about my inhospitable company. I headed for the towering structure.
I'd resolved to go the entire distance on foot, but a stroke of convenience walked my way, literally. An open-air stagecoach dropped off two people at a street corner. They paid the carriage driver and went on their way. The driver was an armored woman, naturally.
The mount was something else. Where a chocobo would be found anyplace else, this coach was pulled by an overgrown wolf creature, large enough to be ridden. The canine opened its mouth and yawned, a mouth three times the size of the average lobo, with fangs three times the lengths and sharpness. Were I any more paranoid, I'd have expected it to face me, growl, and charge. But it just licked it chops, paying me no attention.
I'd never seen such a creature before. Was it a local monster, or had this giant wolf, like the twin hex medallion, been imported from elsewhere.
I could find out later. For now, I waved down the carriage mistress. "Would you mind? I could use a lift."
"Sure." She pointed behind her at the empty seat. I climbed in. "Where to?" She asked.
"There." I pointed at the tower to the east, unsure of its official name. "I'm new in town, and my friend asked that I meet him at that tall building."
The woman believed me. She asked no questions and charged the appropriate fee. I paid, and she mustered the giant wolf to move out. I sat in the back, observing the passing streets.
As we got closer, I could see the building was an ornate citadel. To further establish it importance, a high stone wall enclosed it, and several smaller buildings around in the vicinity. A special neighborhood, with the big building as the center.
In most circumstances, such a place would have gate guards. We'd have been stopped and searched. But there were no stationed sentries at the gates in this wall. The gates weren't even closed. Our chariot got inside like it was nothing.
Of course there were no guards. This was a garrison. Everyone was a guard. If someone was denied access to this neighborhood, that individual wouldn't be allowed anywhere in this town. These militants didn't think outsiders would get this far into their domain.
My pulse increased. I was deep behind the lines of this enemy from nowhere, and only I knew about it. Trespassing had never been so dangerous, or educational.
The chariot went through the streets of this walled-in section of town. The looming structure got more detailed as we closed the distance. Windows and balconies became visible. A few blocks down, the woman stopped the carriage. "That's as close as I can get you."
We were just before the lawn of this massive citadel. "It's close enough. Thanks." I stepped off, and watched the coach mistress depart.
A stone path led to the large double doors. Through them was a massive entry hall. Armed locals walked about here and there, none of them stopping to converse with me. I searched the walls. This citadel would certainly have map displays, and they'd likely be found here. However, exotic paintings and carvings were my only rewards. I wasn't discouraged though. This place had many rooms, and I'd easily find something of interest soon enough.
Moments later I did, in a hallway with multiple stairwells. I spotted my only named 'acquaintance' from this nameless garrison town, the young Ms. Voldruine, descending the closest flight of stairs. The teenager paid me no attention. Since I didn't want any, all was good.
Or was it? The girl wasn't alone this time. Following her down the stairs was a large muscled creature which I could only describe as a buffed up crocodile with long horns. Its hide was a dark, dull brown, coarse and scaly. The two horns pushed up from the crown if its skull, than forward at a moderately steep angle. Despite it bulk, the creature carried itself well, without lumbering off balance or mindlessly swatting its tail against various decorations it passed on the landing.
I'd have to expect surprises like this, if I was going to move about secretly and learn my captor's motives and methods. Those three gem-headed beings from the previous day and the giant wolf from a few minutes ago were omens to me, signs of things to come. My dire circumstance thickened.
But I kept this anxiety concealed. I couldn't blow my cover, especially with that croc nearby.
Ms. Voldruine and the strange animal reached the bottom of the stairs. She looked down at the crocodile and made some hand gesture. The thing sat. It was domesticated! Well, if they could tame overgrown wolves to pull stagecoach wagons, why not train giant horned crocodiles to sit, roll over, and go fetch.
Through the masks eyeholes, I espied the creature. In some weird way, I was comforted to see an oval gemstone attached to its forehead, this one a black onyx. Maybe this was a 'special' breed. Still, was this a local animal, or had it come from elsewhere?
Ms. Voldruine stood there, with the croc sitting at her feet. She checked her watch, as thought waiting for someone, someone important perhaps. Instincts suggested I wait around to see this person. Next to the stairs was a small table with pottery on top. Standing there, I was behind the girl and the crocodile. I'd have a great view of their prospective company.
Minutes passed, and still this individual had not arrived. A large group of militants came my way, and I instantly took my gaze off the duo and examined the pottery, lest I appear suspicious. The chattering troops passed by, but I didn't look too hard at Ms. Voldruine, or that crocodile.
My ears were attuned to them however. I finally heard the girl greet someone. And which voice answered her back?
Of all the voices, maybe I should have expected it. The previous evening, I'd heard him, just as hoarse and gruff as the times he berated me in the darkened jail cell. It was my personal tormentor.
Once again, he was mere feet away, clueless of my presence. But there was no alleyway or building corner to shield him from my vision. I stood still, but my pulse raced a mile a minute. I could finally view my husky, raspy jailor in full.
Just as I'd seen in the darkened cell, the man was heavyset and tall, shorter than the lanky Mr. Blue but taller than the statuesque Ms. Purple. His clothing was expected; fatigues-style pants tucked into knee-length boots, a thick belt, a sleeveless jacket covering a chest plate, shoulder guards, wrist cuffs, and a talisman necklace. His hair was tied back in medium length tail.
And in some way, other features of him were quite in place. His skin was a deep rich orange, much like roofing tiles or a freshly-cooked yam. His eyes didn't match. The right eye was normal sized but black instead of white, with a tan slit for a pupil. His left eye was a features pink bug eye, at least twice the normal size. In spite of their dramatic size difference, both eyes blinked in unison.
And the last feature loosely explained it all. A vertical oval was centered on his forehead above his eyebrows, this one a ruby colored an intense blood red.
Mr. Blue, Ms. Purple, Mr. Green Thing, Mr. Red, and the horned crocodile with the onyx. That made five gem headed beings…so far.
I was so lost in thought, I paid their words no attention. Seeing my personal nemesis in the discolored flesh was understandably distracting, but I couldn't let myself get sidetracked. I suppressed the urge to draw Jelmz's axe and shove it into Mr. Red's groin. Furious but restrained, I listened to the remainder of his conversation with Ms. Voldruine.
"Actually, that's not necessary. We brought plenty back with us, enough for the process." Mr. Red explained something to which I'd missed the intro. "Some of it's being shipped across town as we speak."
"So you'll help with the procedure?" asked the teen.
"No. I've gotta provide a more extensive update," explained my jailor. "I'm sure some nearby folks will give you a hand if you ask."
I watched from the corner of my eye as Mr. Red climbed the stairs behind the girl and the animal. Though he'd departed my presence for now, I'd likely see him again. I braced myself for it.
How much time would lapse before he checked my cell and found Jelmz's body? Why had that been delayed? Had it? Did someone discover their comrade's corpse in my place already?
No, I doubted that much. Had Jelmz been found, this place would've been on lookdown, with no masked persons moving about, and I'd be dead by now (best case scenario).
Their delay in checking the cell was easily explained. They were up to something big, and that took precedence over the jail cell observation. I was not their number one priority for the time. However, that would change, and someone would find Jelmz where they'd left me. Why had Jelmz come that time? Was he filling in for Mr. Red, or had he taken over as my next jailor? Either way, someone would notice his absence, when their present affairs were concluded, if not before.
Time was not on my side.
"Would you mind giving me a hand?" It was Ms. Voldruine. She finally noticed me, and was asking for my assistance…again. She didn't seem to recognize me from the previous day however. With all the militants moving about, I hoped she'd forgotten.
I faced her, and subtly regarded the crocodile creature. It stood there on all fours, paying me no attention. "Sure. I'm not busy right now." I did my best to act like I'd never met her before, while still playing the role of a local in the know. "It's Ms. Voldruine, right? My friend referenced you a couple times."
"That's me." She winked. "Word about me gets around quickly, for obvious reason." For me, it wasn't so obvious. I just knew she held some degree of importance around here. She beckoned. "Follow me. I'll show you what's up."
"Yes, do that." I masked the enthusiasm in my voice.
I followed her through into a citadel corridor. The buffed up crocodile kept pace with us, a normal sight to all around here but me. At least it didn't try sniffing or licking me. Still, when it got too close I pulled back.
"Oh, don't mind him." The teenage girl laughed, and reached down to stroke the creature's snout. "He's helpful, and he won't bite."
"I see." So the animal was a male, and a 'trusted assistant'. But he would bite…if my identity became known too soon.
change in s & n
A double-edged sword in every way possible. That's how I described the current moods of my people.
I sat in my bedroom, reading the report on the latest public dispute, and the arrests that followed. Two men quarreled over my reputation, one of them supporting me while the other voiced blunt skepticism. Their altercation came to blows, and both were detained.
Again, I had to play the objective middleman, and not take either side. In truth, I couldn't fault the skeptical man or those like him. He doubted my measures of re-plumbing this capital. Hell, I doubted myself from time to time, and though I masked it in public, it was obvious that my front made little difference. Skeptical attitudes were growing.
On the other hand, I was still King Edgar of Figaro, and I still had support from various loyalists in town. Someone still believed in me, and they made their opinions very public. Anyone who doubted me would face the wrath of hard line patriots, who didn't sing but instead shout my praises and virtues. Talking down about me and my practices put them on a berserk defensive.
I leaned back in my desk chair, contemplating what these arrests could foreshadow. Full-scale riots hadn't yet broken out, but the potential was certainly there. I'd seen it when the crowd literally amassed at my doorstep. The army dispersed the crowd of skeptics before the patriots could voice their disdain for contrary viewpoints.
Not everyone against me was looking to riot. According to other reports, citizens were starting to leave, migrating out of this capital to cities with functional plumbing systems. I had admit, it was in their best interest, and I had no intention of stopping them. But that created a whole new problem.
Fewer residents meant fewer taxpayers to fund the labor. With fewer residents supplying the money, those who paid would have to increase their input, at a time when they'd already paid a high financial price.
Only one group of townspeople would do this, the unquestioning loyalists who bad-mouthed my critics. This was the double-edge, that precarious fine line; those who supported me were zealously intolerant against opposing perspectives, a mindset that was dividing my people further. Yet, I needed this loyal crowd, as no one else would fund the taxation.
The skeptics had legit cause for their ideas, and unlike the patriots, they weren't so unquestioning and fanatical. Asking questions is what led them to their current mentality. They were more interested in getting on with their lives, moving out of town if necessary. They weren't interested in setting off conflict with rival viewpoints, though they didn't back down if patriots overstepped the line. The critical population came off as more sympathetic.
So that was my circumstance in a nutshell; I felt for people who provided less and less for the water works tax, and those who continued supporting me were more pushy, abrasive, and insensitive. The patriots did things in my name that I'd never sanction. But I needed them.
But for how much longer? I put the crime report aside and grabbed the construction report detailing the Guild's recent progress. Since discovering the soil deterioration in the northeast farming community, I'd made that region a priority. Those who still remained in the district were quiet, for now.
Elsewhere in town, the regular building of add-ons continued. It appeared this stretch would eventually meet the northeastern stretch. If that kept up…
From the looks of things, this plumbing project was almost complete! Just a few more districts along the capital's northern edge would remain after the farming district had its upgrades.
In a different setting, I'd be commending the Reservoir Guild and eagerly anticipating the system's completion. But instead, I asked, would it matter? So many trials had unfolded in this project already. I doubted completion would be attained so easily. If the farming soil dried out before then, completion really would be a moot point.
But when completion was attained, maybe those who doubted me would have their faith restored, which would placate those loyalists. My people would be united once more.
As I placed the construction data back into its respective folder, the telegraph on my desk buzzed to life. Its keys typed a message as the topmost sheet of paper was rolled out. When the message was done, the machine chimed and its light flashed. I had mail.
I grabbed the paper and read the content. It was from Terra. On this day, she decided to explore Umaro's cave for answers to his whereabouts. While inside, she almost crossed paths with someone else, or something else.
Almost. She didn't see who or what, but she claimed the footsteps were too light and quick to be Umaro's. When she called his name and said hers, the mysterious being fled, as though avoiding her. She chased it through the caves cautiously, wondering if this was the beast which killed Frank Maydecker. Yet she didn't get close enough to see who or what she was chasing, and the being fled into the gorge behind the mountains. Whatever it was, it had evaded her successfully. She theorized this deliberate avoidance meant something.
I set my machine for a response, thanking Terra for her efforts and intuition. Though her message claimed she didn't locate Umaro, I urged her to keep searching in Narshe. It wouldn't hurt to check back in with Mog and report the strange experience in the yeti's cave.
Not three seconds after sending the message, my telegraph printed another one. I read the new piece of mail, this one from Locke. He wanted to discuss a matter he referenced as 'quite confidential'. He stressed that he didn't want Celes around for the discussion, as she blew off his ideas as 'paranoid nonsense'. Locke mentioned that he was free tomorrow. He was manning their shop today while Celes came here for personal visits. Tomorrow, they'd both have mutual free time and come here, but they'd go separate ways, shopping in different areas.
I sent a reply to Locke, explaining that tomorrow afternoon would work fine. Whatever he wanted to say was important. The sooner I heard it, the better.
change in s & n
We carried a full load of 'Divine's food'. Chithagu was hauling one crate. Some local troops in town were helping me with two more. A large man in a plate mail vest pushed one box by himself. A smaller man with an armored mask was helping me push the last one, for this load. There'd surely be more to shuttle across town. The Duke's minions were numerous for this march against us, and our team brought back plenty after assaulting his ranks.
The cable car stopped outside Yithadri's dome, in the hills east of Albrook. Its doors opened and we hauled all three carts to the domed chamber. The bigger man was quite talkative. "We're really gonna fuck shit up now. In a few days or less, it's bye-bye Sindreo Geminsa."
"Yeah," I agreed, looking at the masked soldier. Unlike the large man, this guy was rather quiet. He added nothing to our conversation. "You okay soldier? You seem like the silent type. We've such people around here, so don't feel bad if that's the case."
"I'm fine, he said. "I'm just…more of a listener than a speaker, not the kind to ramble on about myself."
Sentries pulled open the chamber doors. We pushed the boxes onto the central platform, where Yithadri and her mystics stood with a severely injured man. The guy had been ravaged by the Duke's forces. One arm was cut off at the shoulder, the other just above the elbow. Both stumps were cauterized closed. He was a clear priority for augmentation.
We pushed all three boxes across the catwalks to the central ledge. Yithadri's aides opened the boxes, and the Shamaness observed the contents. "They certainly were hard at work on the battlefield," she acknowledged.
She reached into the crate and pulled out the comatose form of a man wearing the Duke's uniform colors. A bloodied bandage wrapped his head. According to field reports, various enemy goons like him were crippled and beaten down to a vegetative state. They were alive, still producing blood.
The mystics took the inert Duke-lover and placed him in shackles hanging from beams which traversed the chamber. "Watch how the supplier is locked in the binds." I pointed at the demonstration, so the two troops could get a hint, if they were new to the practice.
The man was hung in the standard 'drain' position, stomach-down with his limbs behind his back. Gravity could then pull all his blood out though a single wound. When the shackled man was pushed beyond the platform railing to dangle over the pit, Yithadri pointed at the masked soldier. "Ah, you've got an axe. Perfect. You know where to cut?"
The masked man stood there. "Well…no. I've never done this before."
"We're all new to everything until we actually do it. Let me show you." Yithadri reached for the axe, and the trooper handed it over. The Honored Shamaness cut upwards from underneath the hanging man, chopping a gash into his stomach. "Pretty easy, right?"
"Yeah." The man accepted the axe when Yithadri returned it.
"Okay, now we vacate, so the energy goes to the armless man, not ourselves," I instructed. "We don't need it." The troops followed Chithagu and I onto the nearest catwalk, pushing the meat boxes against the ledge's guardrail. The Shamaness and her mystics began the exercise.
The hanging man's blood poured from the deep incision and splashed on the stone surface below. It chimed and flashed the usual white and green colors, and flecks of light amassed on what remained of the wounded guy's arms.
Bright lights flashed as they took the vague shape of arms and hands. Then they faded, and fully-formed human hands were left in their place. There was no scarring to suggest his arms had recently been severed.
But it became obvious these were not his original limbs. As he flexed his fingers at Yithadri's advice, something new sprouted from his wrists. Rough, vein-covered stumps emerged. The skin on their surface folded back, and smoke spewed out.
"Okay, now aim for the open space there." Yithadri pointed at the pit covering most of the chamber's floor space. He did just that, and a flaming object burst from each growth. The fireballs arched downwards into the pit and burst on contact with the rocky ground. The explosion wasn't spectacular, but it was impressive enough.
"Flaming cartilage bombs," explained Yithadri. "Though they won't substitute conventional weapons, they'll definitely add a boost to your arsenal.
"And a boost to my physical condition too." The man's augments retracted back into his wrists, leaving no sign of their new presence. "I'm ready to get back out there and kick more Duke-loving ass. I've seen this process before. Now, I've received it."
Yithadri smiled. "Then you're dismissed. Head back to the airship and await further orders." The augmented man bolted from the domed chamber. He was no stranger to the process, and the large-framed soldier next to me mentioned witnessing his share.
However, the masked soldier was swaying about, leaning on the catwalk's guardrail, his legs weak and shaky. "What's wrong?" I asked him.
The man breathed deeply. "What the hell? I've never seen that before. What is it?"
"We call it augmentation, though its official name is much more elaborate," I explained, avoiding the original Jrysthovuhn terminology.
Yithadri examined the hanging corpse. It was completely drained of bodily fluids. She removed the carcass from the chains and ordered one of her mystics to disposes of it. The large soldier and second mystic went about hanging the other vegetative corpses in suspended shackles, in preparation for the next wounded Nyufalng troops who'd come our way.
The masked grunt knelt down against the railing, gathering himself. "So, you drain a person's blood and heal another person's wounds, even give them…monster body parts. Can you revive a dead person?"
"That's about the one thing it can't accomplish," Yithadri clarified as two corpses were shackled in place. "If there's no active soul energy in the recipient, the soul energy in the donor's blood cannot bind with anything, and thus the result is nothing."
"Soul energy?" The trooper's voice suddenly held more life.
I sat down next to him, petting Chithagu as I did so. "You've heard such terminology before? Word does travel around here, so I'm not surprised."
"I heard it in a much different context." The masked man got to his feet slowly. "In regards to fighting talents, not blood content."
I stood with him. "Well again, we can boast such talents, so it likely found your ears in short order."
The soldier observed as various Duke-lovers were fixed into place. "If you can mutate and replace missing limbs, can you mutate someone's entire body?"
"We've done it, though the subject often loses intelligence with increased abilities." If Yithadri felt any shame, her voice betrayed none of it. "Oddly, when we augment animals, their intelligence increases, though it still isn't on par with a standard human."
"Me smart," rasped Chithagu. "Me speaking, me is listen, me got intellect."
"Whoa!" The soldier almost fell down again. Chithagu's speaking had clearly startled him. He was definitely new here. "Your…animal…talks?"
"Yes he does." I stroked his back. "Right boy?" He wagged his tail. "He's a sample of augmented abilities and intelligence. His IQ doesn't rival ours, but it surpasses those of his species. He's quite unique."
"Don't forget why he's unique." Yithadri pushed aside an empty box.
"Oh right. It's this." I pointed at Chithagu's Pirusymn stone. "It's a rarity. Only five have been created."
"Happily, we created all of them, and they're all in our possession." Yithadri said with pride. "All the Pung Thoshidai work for us."
"Pung Thush…Thasi Pang…huh?" The masked man was stuck on the Jrysthovuhn terminology.
"Pung Thoshidai, or Pung Thoshidei for the singular," I clarified, patting the tongue-tied man's back.
"Thoshidei." The man got it right this time. "So you…make Pung Thoshidai from wild animals like that one?"
"Actually he's the only one who started out as feral." Yithadri chained a veggie into a shackle set. The remaining 'donors' were moved to the room's periphery, as all chains near the central platform were used. "The first four Pung Thoshidai were born of normal humans. Maybe you've seen the other four around town. Their Pirusymn stones are quite obvious."
"As a matter of fact, I did see a few with such stones, though I wasn't counting their number." The grunt was in the know, to some extent. "So, there's only five. Have you plans to get more?"
Yithadri sat in a meditation posture. "Unfortunately, the means to create Pirusymn stones only exists in Jrysthovuh, my homeland. Many of us hail from there, though not all. We're not welcome there. Those of us with Jrysthovuhn blood are either exiles or fugitives."
"The ruling Council despises us for our divergent thinking," I pitched in. "I'll spare you the long tale. Suffice to say, many of us are glad to be unwelcome there. Too bad they sealed off the whole country. Our brothers and sisters who didn't toe the line are forced to live under blinding chains. Too many rules and all that fucking shit. Sealed away from the outside world, the Council's bossy rule is largely unknown, never mind unmatched."
"So, if you're Jrysthovuhn and you oppose the Council, why are you here? Shouldn't you be fighting them instead?" The masked grunt was very perceptive, for a newcomer at least.
"The control freaks who run our country are not unique," I said flatly, despite the discussion topic. "The oppressive, the ignorant, and the morally-strict come in many flavors, from just as many places."
Yithadri flexed her fingers in some exercise. "We've already crushed the local rule of Sireck and Edrina, obviously. House Virnone was destroyed a short while back. Now, Duke Sindreo Geminsa's next. Our numbers have grown immensely, just like our proficiency at augmentations. Soon, we'll have the resources to fuck up the Council's pampered little haven. Jrysthovuh's intelligent will at last be free."
The grunt said nothing for the next few moments. He was likely absorbing all the info. Admittedly, it was quite a lot to digest, but he kept up, and caught in quickly. "You lack the means to create more of those stones or whatever. Are the stones created with spirit energy?"
"Bravo, good sir." I commended the man's learning capacity. "Jrysthovuh has access to a rich concentration of spirit energy not found anywhere else in the world. That's what allows the Council to exploit their subjects and maintain their iron fist."
"Where does spirit energy originate?" asked the inquisitive grunt. "How does it come to be? Does an area's population play a role? I assume each person has energy that would contribute to a region's quantity or quality."
"Imaginative, and well-spoken my friend." Yithadri praised the man while gazing at the dome overhead. "But no, spirit energy does not originate with physical life forms. They carry a certain amount and can channel more into themselves, but it comes from elsewhere." She looked at him. "It originates in the Spirit Stream of the Divine."
"Honored Shamaness Juyolahriss," called the burly grunt from across the chamber. "All suppliers have been positioned as ordered." While empty shackles remained, unshackled vegetables did not.
"Fantastic." Yithadri stood and looked around at the hanging followers of Sindreo Geminsa. How wasteful they could give blood to his cause. Instead, they'd literally bleed for ours. "Another load should do it for max capacity. Head back to the cargo vessels and collect more. And bring more wounded here as well, to receive the special treatment." As the soldier departed, the first mystic returned, having disposed of the drained corpse. Yithadri addressed them both. "Plenty of wounded will be coming in. Prepare accordingly. Find the Moihzadu. We'll definitely need him."
Seeing the empty shackle sets reminded me that someone else would prove useful right about now. "Don't forget the special catch. If you're seeking augmentations, his blood will provide some of the best."
"Yes, for sure." Yithadri faced her departing clerics. "He should be ready for another go. Bring him out."
"Another go?" asked the soldier in the headgear. "You mean, you can drain blood from a person more than once?"
"Not usually," I offered "but in this case, we certainly do. This guy possesses some real talents, and skills of that caliber can be extracted through blood and passed on to augment recipients, in some form."
While the grunt ingested yet another Nyufalng asset, one of the clerics returned with the special catch, the latter bound to a hand cart, wearing only his undergarments. The curious grunt went up close to examine the special captive. "Is this how you drained his blood?" He pointed at intersecting scars on the catch's wrists.
"Not quite." Yithadri pointed out. "Those are from a suicide attempt from long ago. Our methods might leave scars, but less crude than these."
"Greetings all. There's a slight change in plans." The voice which filled the chamber could only belong to Ruqojjen.
"High Shenthaxa Kagasjori." Yithadri's cleric addressed the chief by his full title. "Of what changes do you speak?"
The Nyufalng leader walked up, daukaisna in hand. "The Duke's minions have subsequently retreated from our assaults. They're adapting, taking a ship to avoid any more ambushes by land."
"So?" I asked. "We already ambushed them at the port of Lenshelgh. Are they just repeating a different mistake?"
"Lenshelgh was a surprise attack against a small force unprepared for opposition of our magnitude," clarified Ruqojjen. "Their ship is headed for our turf. And they'll unload everything they have upon arrival."
"They'll be here sooner then expected." Yithadri traced the engraving pattern on one of her bracelets. "It's a damn good thing we're preparing for augmentations right this minute. What are the extra counter measures?"
As usual, the High Shenthaxa already had a plan. "A ship-to-ship naval clash is something they'll expect. A less predictable method is to let them get close to our shoreline and strike when they presume to be unseen. I doubt they'll dock here in town. That would be too obvious. More likely, they'll stop on the shores and march the rest of the way. We'll keep tracking them, but lay off on the assaults, giving the impression we've lost their trail."
"Sindreo Geminsa's arrogance would have him presume such, if we cease our attacks," the Honored Shamaness acknowledged. "We track them along the coast, and strike once again as they disembark."
"And that will be that," I surmised. "The Duke and his followers will be no more."
"According to field reports, over one fifth of his remaining minions were killed off in the ambushes." Ruqojjen pointed at the hanging, chained bodies. "This is but a fraction of their losses. When they land, we overwhelm them, striking from all sides, drawing their attention on one front while attacking on others."
"If they're sailing here, their arrival is close at hand." Yithadri ran her fingers along vital points of the special catch before placing him back on the cart. "He's ready. Shackle him up." The cleric followed her directive.
"Tomorrow. I'm sure of it." Ruqojjen swung the jagged long sword in arch motions. Soon, the Duke blood would coat the serrated weapon. "Until then, we must prepare. The other ambush parties are heading back, and they've got plenty of comatose Duke-lovers in their possession."
"Have we received any word from Sergeant Tanrevilt?" Yithadri soothed out wrinkles in her robe sleeves.
"He'll inquire when he gets the chance." Ruqojjen lifted the Jrysthovuhn weapon high with both hands.
"Right." I faced the curious grunt. "I like your interest, but the Q&A period's over. We've got work to do."
"Yes," agreed the soldier. "Preps for the Duke's welcoming party. I'll manage. The more work I do, the more I'll learn."
Chithagu, the grunt, and I took the wheeled transport crates and pushed them back out to the cable car. When I pulled the doors closed, I said, "Ah, a fast-learner. Every experience carries its own lesson or two, if you're perceptive."
The cable began its descent. "So, there's no other place to create these…Pung stones?" asked the masked grunt.
"Pirusymn stones," I corrected him. "And we don't know of any. Surely not on this continent, as we've explored all three domains. Maybe there's a place outside Jrysthovuh, but we don't know about it. For now, five Pung Thoshidai is enough."
"Like him." The man pointed at Chithagu.
"Yes, like him," I repeated. "He's got a name by the way. Call him Chithagu."
"Chithagu." The man had no trouble pronouncing it. "That must be a Jrysthovuhn name."
"Well, yeah." I stroked my pet pal. "He's an indigenous Jrysthovuhn animal."
"Are the others I saw earlier Jrysthovuhn nationals?" He described the other Pirusymn bearers in detail. Sure enough, he'd seen all four. I provided names for each one, so he'd be on a first name basis. He had no trouble with name pronunciation. Of course he wouldn't. He was here, amongst us Nyufalng. Ruqojjen and Yithadri gave a brief but essential crash course in Jrysthovuhn culture to all who joined our movement.
Even so, it was possible he'd known about Jrysthovuh before ever hearing the word 'Nyufalng'. Though rare, it wasn't unheard of. There was one particular source of knowledge that had found its way beyond Jrysthovuh to the world at large. Few really took interest, but those who did wouldn't forget. Many of our new recruits referenced it when we mentioned our Jrysthovuhn roots.
The Ts'aosra'iy.
Well, it was better than nothing, but it was hardly a worthy resource for the truth about Jrysthovuhn society. Anyone who referenced it was given corrections immediately. Calling the Ts'aosra'iy a half-truth would be too generous, an exaggeration of its factuality. For us, hearing claims of its being the 'foremost account of Jrysthovuh' was an obscene joke. But for non-Jrysthovuhns, it was all they had, until they joined our movement.
If this masked grunt knew of the Ts'aosra'iy, he'd learn it had few valid points. If not, there was no need to 're-educate' him.
The cable car reached the bottom of the hill. I slid its doors open, and we pushed the crates through the streets to nearest railcar stop. "Suppose you can make…Pirusymn stones elsewhere," stated the grunt as we rounded a street corner. "Is it possible you'd learn of such a place?"
"Sure it's possible, but it would take a level of devotion we can't offer up right now." I zigzagged my crate around pedestrians. "Maybe after the Duke's blood flows like wine, Ruqojjen and Yithadri will seek out another source of undiluted Spirit Stream energy. The Divine has many facets that even we have yet to fully grasp."
And now came the grunt's quintessential question. "And what exactly is this Divine?"
I stopped pushing the cart, to emphasize my response. "My friend, though your question has a simple answer, it will lead to a series more profound questions, especially for someone like you. Trust me on that one. Now's not the time for such a scholarly lecture. We have work to do, as you know."
"Okay," replied the masked trooper. "Another time will suffice." He was agreeable, and understood the importance of the present affair. I myself could postpone the questions I had for the Major.
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The train sped through Narshe, packed with evening commuters. Edgar's suggestion of checking back with Mog was interesting. In any case, I had nothing to lose by doing such. Guards were posted outside the mines after Umaro's disappearance. My near encounter with that elusive…thing while searching the yeti's cave would be of interest to them. The moogle would be just as curious, if not more so.
The westbound train stopped in the Verdsanath District, where I departed. Walking through the residential streets to the moogle mines, I noticed that guards still watched the mine's entry. I approached them casually. They admitted me last time, and I had nothing to share back then. "Terra Branford of the returners. I'm here to discuss something with Mog, and maybe your commander as well."
Adding that last part worked wonders. Instead of debating with each other, the guards called inside the cave. Another soldier came out. "Follow me, Ms. Branford." I let the formality slide, grateful to have quick and convenient access.
I followed the sentry through the various tunnels and corridors of natural stone. The talking moogle was in a storage chamber, cleaning the heads of digging trowels and drill bits, a dirty rag in his hand and a container of cleaning solution at his side.
"Be quick," advised the guard. I had every intention of making this as brief as possible.
"Hi Mog." I greeted him as he dipped the rag into the bucket.
"Kupo Terra. Impeccable timing. I'm less preoccupied than usual."
"Good. I have an update for you." I sat on a work bench. "Earlier today, I went to the caves behind the northern cliffs, the cave where Umaro once lived."
Mog stopped scrubbing the shovel and looked up. "What did you find? Was he there?"
"I didn't see him, but I had an encounter with something else. Well, almost."
"Almost?" inquired Mog, his wings flapping. "How is 'almost' an encounter? You either saw something or you didn't."
"I didn't see anything, but I heard it. When I called Umaro's name and said mine, this thing took off running. Its footsteps were to fast and light to be Umaro's." I recalled crucial details of the chase. "Expecting resistance, I chased it. But it got away, exiting into the gorge and scaling a cliff, out of my sight. Whatever it was, it didn't want to be found."
"Didn't want?" Mog exclaimed while swabbing the shovel's underside. "Terra, you're presuming it was intelligent enough to want secrecy. You didn't see what you chased, so you can't prove it was something beyond a typical cave dweller. Some creatures flee humans all the time."
"It led me outside Mog, like it knew the cave's layout, knew where to find the closest exit. And it only fled after I said my name." I explained more details as the person who experienced it all. "Edgar agreed with me. The thing's evasion meant something."
The moogle placed the trowel on a tool rack, grabbing a dirty pickaxe. "Well I won't doubt the King's judgment. And you chased the mystery thing, not me, so your idea holds water. But, what do you want from me?"
What did I want? It was Edgar's idea that I visit Mog after the cave chase, not mine. "Edgar suggested I inform you of this. Better to try than not, as he would say."
"If you want to talk, than talk to the people in charge if military presence around here, Kupo." Mog scrubbed accumulated dirt off the pick blade. "My hands are tied with maintenance and labor duties. They were Umaro's job at one point, but he got lazy before vanishing."
I stood from the bench. "Yes, I planned on speaking to a military commander if you couldn't help. I'm just trying to keep you in the loop."
"Kupo, thanks Terra. Come back if you find something else that's worthy my knowing." Mog scrubbed the pick head clean, shelved the tool, and grabbed another one. His bucket was now empty. "Damn, the good stuff doesn't last long. I'll go refill." He flapped his wings and floated off to restock the cleaning fluid.
I faced my escort. "Who's in charge here?"
"We have a different commander for each shift. Follow me to find the present one on duty." He led me through a different series of tunnels. A tall man in full armor stood on a ledge overlooking a machinery chamber below. "Commander, this woman has something to tell you."
The Commander, an aged man with stiffened facial features, eyed me. "Ms. Terra Branford." I was known amongst the army. "State your business."
I repeated my cavern chase tale. "It deliberately fled me. It didn't want to be seen or known, which means we should know about whatever it is, and whatever it's doing."
The man's stale eyes came to life. "You didn't see the missing yeti at all?"
"No, and that creature was obviously not him. But I'm considering a chance that the elusive thing played a role in his disappearance."
The commander scratched his stubble. "You presume an intelligent creature of sorts. It fled you, when it had the chance to attack. Maybe it wasn't a creature but a person."
"Oh." I'd not thought of that. "Well still, if he or she ran from my presence, this person didn't want me spotting them in Umaro's cave. That still leaves the question of why. Why it was there, and why I wasn't attacked during the chase."
"And you never saw the yeti." The officer stared up at the cave ceiling for a moment. "We don't know if Umaro's lives or not. Is it possible this person or creature was there to kill him, for reasons unknown to us?"
"I don't know, but I wasn't writing off hostility. While chasing it, I was on the defensive, in case it was the spiked thing that killed Maydecker a short time back."
The man cringed at the mention of his deceased colleague, but it was a necessary reference. "You believe there's a link between his killer and the mysterious person or creature you chased from Umaro's dwelling?"
"I'm not sure, but I wouldn't rule out that possibility."
"Hmm." The military officer squinted his eyes. "How much of the cave did you search?"
"Not much," I said. "I left after losing track of the mystery thing."
"If the creature you chased is the same thing that killed Maydecker, perhaps it attacked the yeti as well. Sergeant." The Commander addressed my escort. "A full search of the caves to the north is in order. Maybe we'll find the missing yeti, or clues about this strange new…thing."
The Sergeant nodded. "Aye Sir. When do you wish to begin?"
"As quickly as possible, before it gets dark," answered the C.O. "Find the Major and brief him on this."
"Yessir." The Sergeant placed his hand to his forehead in a salute. "Ms. Branford, unless you have business here, I must escort you back outside."
"I'll leave. Thank you for your time." I faced the officer.
"And thank you for the update." He bid me farewell before the Sergeant beckoned me to follow. We retraced our steps back outside.
Maybe I was grasping at straws, but I hoped a search of Umaro's cavern would lead to something, an answer or two. I kept feeling that his and Leonard's disappearances were related. The questions kept piling up.
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Dinner was an hour away. I could spend that time in the command center practicing the Dragoon arts, and work up an appetite.
I fastened my boots and gripped my favorite Aura Lance. Upon closing the bedroom door, I was greeted with company. "Good evening, King Edgar."
"Good evening Joe, and welcome back. I hope you enjoyed your vacation." Though he'd returned a couple days ago, I'd not seen him until now.
"I enjoyed it, to say the least, but I'm curious. What's been going on here since I left?"
"You must mean the plumbing upgrades." I withheld my doubts and questions, as well as the public's growing skepticism, but told him the truth on the actual progress. "It's almost done."
"Wonderful. Soon the tax increase will be void, I hope." The merchant contained his voice. "How about Narshe?"
"What about Narshe?" His next question was surprising.
"Has anything big happened there?" He scratched his neck. "I mean, I did ruffle some feathers awhile back, accidentally bypassing mine security while seeking out Mog. I can guess people were pretty upset. The moogles certainly were."
His voice took a sheepish, bashful tone. He was understandably embarrassed from that accident, and wasn't sure if it had blown over. Maybe he'd avoided the mining town since, for that very reason. "Not to worry Joe. They have extra security patrolling the mines to prevent such happenings again. The moogles have plenty of work obligations now. Recalling your little 'trespassing' stunt would waste their time." I smiled, putting him at ease. "Why do you ask?"
"I'm still interested in Narshe's jewelry and gemstone trade. I might move there." He pointed at the floor. "I can't live in your house forever."
"I'm not in a hurry to evict you or anything, so don't rush yourself in moving out." I patted his shoulder. "But I'm sure Narshe would welcome you in full when the time comes." I said nothing of Maydecker's killing or Umaro's disappearance. Such things were classified, and not really his business.
"Indeed." He looked about, as though pondering another question. "So, once the new water lines are in place, the looming drought will cease to be?"
"That's the plan," I said, keeping any negative thoughts to myself.
"I've heard this desert town is rather infertile, at least naturally. It's the polar opposite of your wife's homeland."
"Yes, you heard correctly Joe. Vardigga is, no-pun intended, a fertile field of agriculture and greenery." I laughed at my little joke. Charise would've laughed if she'd been around to hear it.
Joe's face lit up, and not just from humor. "What is Vardigga's gemstone demand like?"
"You'd have to ask my wife, because I've never really considered it. Why the curiosity?"
He shrugged. "Well…I just, want to know. I understand you're not on the best of terms with them, but that doesn't mean their nation is backwater. I've heard plenty of stories about the unsurpassed beauty of the Vardiggan countryside. And that's before considering their scientific achievements." Joe was silent. "Do I really need an excuse to visit there, that is, when I can take another leave?"
"I guess not, but wait until then. You know the leave policy," I reminded him. "Have you anymore questions? I must get to the command center."
"No. Thank you for your time, Your Majesty. I'm going to get some food." The merchant waved and left my presence. I left the castle for the training room at the military base.
In the training room, Cyan was observing a group of soldiers place another hybrid target, a frozen chunk of meat covered with shards of a combat walker. Ziegfried stood in the corner, cleaning his long sword. "How go the target preparations?" I asked.
One of the troops smiled, hanging armor shards on the meat's frozen surface. "Just in time Sire. They prey awaits you."
"It is time to test your newly honed dragoon techniques once more, King Edgar," announced Cyan with folded arms.
The soldiers cleared the floor and gave me the perfect opening. However, I did some warm-ups first, twirls, thrusts, swings, and leaps to get myself in the mood. With my blood flowing, the real exercise could begin.
My spirit energy was flowing through my weapon. I could feel the warm shaft in my hands. Staring down the armored meat, I stepped forward. The Dragoon boot relics did their thing, carrying me forward with very steps. I raised my weapon to stomach height, tightened my grip, and pushed out.
The usual bangs and dazzling light effect burst out on contact. However, some new results came about. The armor shard that I stabbed broke in half, the two severed pieces flying in opposite directions when the lance blade pierced the surface. It didn't stop there. The tip went deeper into the frozen tissue, sending dust-like ice fragments in all directions. The whole contraption wobbled and slid backwards on impact, but the lance's resonance remained.
That meant I could try a second pass. I yanked my weapon from the target, tearing out more shards of ice and uncooked meat. Now I could try an aerial move. I squatted, and leapt almost twice my height. Raising the weapon above my head, I came back down, ready to finish off the target with a vertical chop.
The spear head buried itself in the meat mound with a thunderous boom, the impacted armor shard curving into itself as more sparkling light effect flared around the jagged spear tip. Then, my weapon began sinking into the meat pile. Pulling it out, I realized why.
I'd nearly cleaved the frozen slab in half with my second strike!
The radiance in the lance was gone. The room's occupants burst into applause. I faced them, a wide grin on my lips, twirling the Aura Lance from side to side.
"Most Impressive, King Edgar." Cyan came up and gave me one of strongest handshakes I'd ever received from him.
Ziegfried's praise was no less enthusiastic. "You truly can call yourself King of the Dragoons."
"And I've only been using this combat style for a few months," I pointed out as the cheering calmed down. I looked at the split meat slab. Most of the ice was melting.
With all the troubles as of late—the decaying soil fertility, the tension amidst the public regarding my reputation, two missing friends, and the ever-elusive super monsters—it was invigorating to see something go smoothly. The butchered meat pile provided more encouragement than I believed possible. It was a metaphor, of progress and hope.
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Sleep wasn't so easily achieved on this night, for two main reasons.
First, I no longer stayed in a hotel that could block off noise from the outside world. And secondly, my mind was racing. I almost didn't want to sleep, especially after a solid day of learning about my captors.
Ms. Voldruine offered me dinner, as gratitude for my assistance throughout the day. I did the best I could, accepted some currency from her and ate separately.
I surely hadn't learned everything about this bizarre paramilitary bunch, but I'd learned enough, and could easily connect the dots with imagination and educated guesses.
Though sleep was not my preference, I had to rest eventually. I needed a clear head to gather intel, and if they found me passed out from fatigue, my mask would be removed, and my cover blown. My earlier plan of laying low someplace was utilized. The weapon warehouse from yesterday morning would suffice. It was easy to find. Though I didn't yet have a map of this town, I had landmarks, the towering citadel and the hotel-diner where I stayed the previous two nights. I also had street names, and found the warehouse in short order. While it was occupied, I found a dark corner with some large bundles of crates. I could stow away amid them. From between two such piles, I had clear sight of the room's entry and would spot anyone who came in, while they'd see nothing of me. If someone entered, I could weave around various box formations and evade them, slipping back when the coast was clear.
However, with all the activity beyond, this room was largely neglected. If they locked me in, I could climb to the rafters, unlatch a skylight in the ceiling, and climb outside on the roof, assuming they wouldn't reopen the place soon thereafter. But for now I was alone, and not locked inside. I could think in private about my next step.
Even at night, this garrison still had night watch patrols. Just as I suspected, they were gearing up for a major operation. I had no intention of joining them. Their preoccupation was the perfect chance to escape, as most of them would be elsewhere come the time.
Unfortunately, I still didn't know who they were. Nor could I name this town. But I would do everything possible to answer the questions looming over me like invisible storm clouds. When rested up, I'd return to the citadel, gather some info on my whereabouts, contact Edgar, and get the hell out. They'd check my jail cell very soon and find Jelmz's body. Time was certainly not on my side, but I had a chance to accomplish very much in a short span. By my estimation, I had a full day. I had to be out of this town before Jelmz was discovered in my place.
I dozed off into a state of half sleep. The noises of wagons and orders outside were audible, even here. I actually appreciated them, for they kept me from falling into deep sleep. Knowing what I'd learned by now, everything was a gamble. But inaction would bring the greatest danger with the least reward.