Chapter 36: Master of Manipulation

Leaving Ilya in charge of Heartland Kingdom had been a difficult decision to reach, but Durbe didn't see another choice. Even if Ilya didn't know too much, she still suspected too much, and in the realm of Barian political gossip, speculation could be even more dangerous than fact. And as far as lords that he trusted to make good use of Heartland's resources, Ilya topped his list. If she were occupied with restructuring Heartland's barbaric economic system and putting down the revolts that were inevitable with a change in power, she would care less about what Durbe did elsewhere. That was his hope. Let the other lords decide what to do with Lord Heartland.

Three kingdoms had fallen to the Barian Empire. All Durbe cared about now was Haruto Tenjo.

"I managed to get Heartland out of the palace and onto a grain cargo bound for Arclight unseen," Mizael said from the doorway, and Durbe looked up from the letter he was working on.

"Good," Durbe muttered, setting his pen down. The sun was no longer shining through the window. It must be mid-afternoon; he would need a candle soon. "We can have him shipped to Baria when he gets here in a few days."

"I had to drug him, tie him up, and shove him in a sack to keep him from hurling disgusting insults at me."

Durbe glanced over at his general, who closed Durbe's door behind him. His face was tinged with red, his lips pressed together bitterly. From the flash of anger in Mizael's eyes, Durbe could imagine the nature of the insults. "I'm sorry you had to deal with that."

"It isn't your fault." Mizael sat at the edge of Durbe's bed. He looked down at his hands. "I'm used to humans calling me a monster by now anyway."

"You shouldn't have to be." Durbe joined Mizael at the edge of the bed. It bothered him to be called a monster, a demon, a freak – but for Mizael, it was so much more. Durbe had grown up impoverished and sickly but he had been happy, or as happy as it was possible to be in a place like Sargasso, but Mizael was different. He didn't have parents. He didn't have a community to support him. He was completely alone. Even other Barians called Mizael a monster. The other lords called Mizael a freak. It hurt Durbe to hear those things. He couldn't imagine what Mizael felt. "Are you… ready?"

Mizael nodded after a moment's hesitation.

"Okay." Durbe reached into his coat for the last vial before remembering that he had used it to prove that Heartland was trying to poison them. "Ah… I guess I need to get some more."

He was so tired, so fatigued, so drained from doing it, but it was for Mizael. Just one more today, he told himself, reaching for a knife and pulling the empty vial from his pocket. Mizael took the vial from his hand and set it on the desk.

"Don't do this anymore, Durbe," he muttered. "Knowing that you're doing that to yourself is bad enough, but seeing it is repulsive."

"Just one more, to make sure I know you're completely fine," Durbe whispered.

Mizael gently removed the knife from Durbe's hand. "Let me, then. I don't want you to waste any."

Durbe slumped his shoulders in resignation before holding his hand out. Mizael took it.

"I'm sorry." Mizael made a small incision in Durbe's arm – Durbe barely felt the pain anymore – and lifted it to his lips.

It was a surreal experience, having Mizael lick the blood from Durbe's small cut, but it felt… good. Being this close to Mizael, resting his chin on Mizael's shoulder while he gripped his hand, feeling Mizael's lips on his skin-

-he wanted to kiss Mizael again, but that would be a mistake, wouldn't it? They couldn't have that. Not until… but they were so close. When Tenjo was theirs, when they had Haruto's powers at their disposal and Durbe could finally complete his plans…

Then we can be complete.

After an eternity, Mizael lowered Durbe's arm and closed his eyes. There was blood on his lips again. "Can I… can you put my soul gem back?"

Durbe pulled his chin from Mizael's shoulder. "It's going to hurt."

"I don't care. I want to feel it. I… I need to feel it. Imperfect as it is, I need to feel my body."

Durbe bit his lip. Without another word, he stood, and reached for Mizael's hand. "You should rest on my bed. You should be comfortable when I put it back."

For a wonder, Mizael didn't argue or roll his eyes or frown; he nodded and allowed Durbe to settle him back on the silk pillows as Durbe unlocked the drawer on his side table and pulled a gem attached to a gold helix. Mizael's soul gem.

Durbe sat on the bed next to him and placed it on Mizael's chest. He didn't want to hurt Mizael, and this process was agonizing. But Mizael trusted him. Durbe could see it in Mizael's calm gaze, in the way he linked a few of his fingers loosely with Durbe's.

"On three, then," Durbe said, voice shaking.

"Don't drag it out," Mizael muttered, closing his eyes. "Just do it. Don't give yourself time to second-guess."

That was fair enough, and Durbe squeezed his own eyes shut before pressing his palm against the gem.

Mizael's back arched as he screamed; claws ripped from his soft human fingers, his shoulders broadened and tore at his clothes, his skin crusted like a yellow scab all over his body, and the gem sank into his chest. Worst of all was the transition in his face. His lips melted together, leaving rough skin where his bloody lips were, and the masklike outer layer of his facial skin ripped through the softer flesh beneath. All the while, Mizael screamed, and Durbe could only grip his hand, which was clawing into Durbe's skin. It was painful, but he couldn't even complain to himself. Not when Mizael suffered infinitely more.

Eventually, Mizael's screams gave way to whimpers and quiet sobs, and soon Mizael was able to loosen his grip on Durbe's hand. He'd drawn blood. Durbe felt more lightheaded than before, but he smiled at Mizael and touched his face. Rough skin, like sandstone, and so unlike Mizael's smooth human skin, but Durbe didn't care which body his general was in. He was the same either way.

"How are you feeling?"

Mizael closed his eyes for a moment. "Exhausted."

Durbe allowed himself a quiet laugh. "I'm sure. Are you hot? Dizzy?" His skin didn't feel hot. But there was only so much Durbe could detect simply from touching Mizael.

There was a pause as Mizael shifted against the pillows. He gave up and slumped back. "Weak. A little dizzy."

"I don't want you falling asleep," Durbe murmured. "You might slip into something irreversible." You might not wake up again. I still don't know if the poison is gone.

Mizael crossed his arms. "I need to be useful. I'm tired of being coddled like a… like a child."

Ever the proud Barian warrior. "I have to go tell the king why there was screaming coming from this hall and not to be alarmed. You stay put and I'll be back with some research for you to do." Durbe climbed off the bed. As he walked to the door, Mizael called after him.

"If you don't want me to fall asleep in my real body, you should consider letting me do something other than research."

Durbe closed the door behind him, shaking his head in amusement.

While Tetsuo worked on finishing the mage's daggers, Anna sat cross-legged in the living room with a piece of crumpled paper next to her, pouring powders and liquids into a pot, muttering incoherently and snapping at anyone who spoke too loudly or cleared their throat too frequently. After a while, Droite and Gauche left to explore the area – to go to the Arena to buy illegal weapons, more likely, Tetsuo thought grimly – and Cathy sat in the corner with a book that she held upside-down. Tired of her exposing herself in the dress she had been wearing, Tetsuo dug out an old pair of trousers and adjusted the waist for her. They were still too big, but she seemed happier in them, and even more so when she took an unfinished knife from the floor and cut them off at the knees. Tetsuo didn't have the heart to scold her, and simply shook his head as he hammered away at the weapons. He couldn't figure out how Anna had ended up travelling with an uneducated savage and two murderers, but she was vague about the whole thing. Then again, maybe it was best he didn't know after all.

He finished the mage's daggers only a few hours before the hooded figure arrived at the door. It was a short visit; the mage had paid in full up front, so Tetsuo simply handed them over, the mage examined each one and placed them in his belt, they had a brisk conversation – have safe travels; I will, I'm heading northeast and the Barians don't usually go toward those mountains anyway – and then he was gone. Tetsuo wasn't superstitious. He didn't believe in fate or destiny or any of that. He was a simple man with a comfortable life. But he couldn't shake an uncomfortable feeling that he hadn't seen the last of that mage, or any of these people, for that matter.

"Got it," Anna said as Tetsuo hammered out a hilt. She sounded exuberant. It had taken her about two weeks to come up with this compound last time, and now it had taken her only a few days. That was fine. Tetsuo had spent an ungodly long time hammering the bubbles out of the compound last time. The bigger head start they had this time, the better.

She helped him pour the viscous liquid into the mold, where it bubbled upon touching the metal.

"Where did you get the Baria crystal?" Tetsuo asked conversationally as they worked.

"Picked it up somewhere," she said unhelpfully.

"Where?"

"The village with the dead bears," Cathy called out from her corner.

This made absolutely no sense to Tetsuo, but Anna winced. What the hell kind of village would be filled with dead bears, and why would Anna not want to talk about-

-no, but Anna had once mentioned a village in the Barian Kingdom that was supposedly the place where an entire village had been poisoned. But surely she wouldn't do that.

"Did you rob Barian graves?"

She didn't look at him, but used a tool to smooth out the liquid. "They were just lying there."

Gods, what an intolerable woman. "You stole Barian crystal from dead Barians."

"It's not like they were using them!"

Tetsuo was about to retort with that's not the point, Anna and some cultures have very particular customs with their dead when the door opened and Gauche hurried in.

"We've got to go," he said calmly.

Anna put her hands on her hips. "We just started with these-"

"There is no time," Droite said, pushing past Gauche. "There are two Barian generals headed this way."

Tetsuo's hands went numb. Had they led the Barians here? Was he getting involved in their treason after all? "Why?"

"They might have seen us," Gauche muttered, and Cathy alone seemed unfazed. She simply stood up, slipped the book into her bag, and waited by the door with as much patience as a cat that wanted outside.

Tetsuo was anything but calm. His heart hammered against his ribs and he had to clench his worktable to keep his hands steady. "If I get in trouble for you people-"

"You won't," Anna muttered, shoving her leftover materials in her bag. "We'll head to the mountains for a week or so. Should give you enough time to finish."

They seemed to be missing the inevitable consequences he would have to face for helping them in the first place. "What do I say if they ask where you are?"

Anna paused, halfway out the back door. She shrugged. "Lie."

A small blacksmith's shop rested halfway between the mountain roads and the Arena. Many people must pass through this place, Alit reflected, and it seemed as good a place as any to figure out where the assassins had gone. He was sure they were around here somewhere; they'd been bold to come to the Arena. But they weren't assassins for nothing. He and Gilag had lost track of them a few miles back. Still, it was worth a shot to ask the smithy if he'd seen them. If the assassins were here, and Durbe was right and the assassins had been working with Kaito Tenjo, who had been working with the Kamishiros – what a tangled mess that was – then there was a good probability that the Kamishiros were around here somewhere.

A thickset man in an apron answered the door, leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed. "Yes?"

Had the man known that he was being rude to two of the highest-ranking Barian generals, he wouldn't have an attitude with them. But Alit let it slide; after all, they probably looked like any other two rough human loggers on their way to the Arena. He reached into a pocket of his flared pants and pulled out a crisply folded piece of paper. "Have you seen any of these people?"

The man rolled his eyes as he unfolded it. Alit watched his eyes closely for any sign of recognition, but the man just frowned. "Nope." He handed it back. "Anything else?"

Gilag peered past the smith into the shop. He scowled. "I feel… Baria crystal. From in there."

Alit felt it too; it was faint, so probably tiny amounts, or very weak crystal, but it was there. There was definitely a sign of panic in the man's eyes now as he uncrossed his arms and stood upright.

"What?"

"Are you making something with Baria crystal in it?" Alit said conversationally, crossing his arms. "You know that's illegal outside of sanctioned smithies, right?"

The man scratched his arm and looked back into his shop. "I don't ask questions. People bring me their requests, they never tell me anything about themselves – half the time I don't even get a good look at their faces – and I make them. It's better not to ask questions."

"Mm." They could have just shoved past the smith into the shop to investigate the illegal Baria crystal weaponry. But there wasn't really any reason a human would want a Barian weapon. Humans were usually very uncomfortable just holding a Barian weapon. Alit turned to Gilag. "We could check and see if anyone knows who commissioned this. If it was a soldier, they're going to be in a whole lot of trouble for this."

Gilag nodded, not taking his gaze off the smith. "Fine. We can check once we've checked in tonight. Have you seen anything out of the ordinary in the past few days?"

The smith rubbed his chin and frowned. "Well… I did see a flash of light a few days back." He pointed off to the east. "It was a ways off, though. Pretty faint. Happened around sunset, if I remember right."

Alit followed the man's finger. Slightly northeast. The swamps were in that direction. What could have made a flash of light there? But it matched what Durbe had described; he was convinced he'd seen a flash of light in the western forests, but another one at the same time from the eastern forests. Maybe this human wasn't lying after all. "That'll do, then. You've been helpful. We'll send someone by in a few days if we find out who commissioned that."

The man's face paled but he nodded and closed the door. Alit sighed. "Should we check in first?"

Gilag glanced at the sky. "We've still got about three hours until sunset. Plenty of time to at least start investigating."

Alit brushed his hair out of his face and sighed again. "It'll be nice when Durbe's done doting on Mizael and he gets Mizael to actually help us again."

"Mizael never helped," Gilag said, stifling a yawn as they opened portals to the east. "He just dictated and complained."

They disappeared into their portals, Alit laughing to himself.

"Are you sure they said to the northeast?"

"I'm positive, Brother."

Thomas scowled and glanced around. "Then where are they?"

"There's a lot of northeast, Brother. I'm sorry that we didn't choose the exact northeast that they did."

Mihael must have been quite frustrated to resort to sarcasm. Thomas rarely heard him make comments like that. But then, they'd been following Alit and Gilag around all day and had accomplished nothing but ending up at the despicable black market – it had gotten bolder since Arclight fell to the Barians; King Byron never would have stood for it sinking this low before the Barians had tortured him into madness – and ultimately finding themselves in the middle of a section of the forest that looked exactly like every other part of the forest.

Return the sword to Yuma Tsukumo.

Damn Chris, damn Akari, damn this entire convoluted mission. If Chris hadn't felt guilty that he'd ruined this woman's life, they wouldn't be here. But that's my father's sword, and it belongs with Yuma and naturally she'd reminded Chris that he'd screwed her life up and owed her for it, and Thomas and Mihael had to carry out Chris's guilt-ridden request.

Someday he'd have to take responsibility for himself.

"I do feel something, though," Mihael muttered, squinting at the ground. "Something like… us."

Now that he was focusing on it and not allowing himself to get worked up over the whole goddamn sorry state of affairs in his kingdom, Thomas could feel it too. His gem was drawn to it, in a way, almost the same as it was when Chris and Mihael were in different parts of the palace and he could always feel where they were exactly. But Mihael was here, and Chris was on the river with that emperor, so it would have to be…

…no, that couldn't be the case. Why the hell would Kaito be all the way out in the middle of this forest? It made no sense.

"He's close," Mihael said quietly, and he trotted off through the muddy forest. Thomas swore under his breath and followed.

They hadn't gone more than maybe a mile before the feeling was overwhelming, and Thomas could now hear voices when he strained his ears.

"…go back and deal with your own shit," a man's voice snapped.

"In case you hadn't noticed, your shit has become my-"

Kaito froze, and when Thomas and Mihael came into view, he reached immediately for his sword. His tension alerted the man and two women with him, and Thomas immediately recognized them as the Kamishiro twins and the Healer who had been captured with the prince. He had barely a moment to ponder how they'd made it this far in such a short amount of time before the Healer whispered something to the other woman, who immediately drew a rapier.

"Who are you?" Ryoga Kamishiro demanded, hoisting his lance into a fighting stance.

"Thomas and Mihael Arclight," Kaito muttered; his sword was half-drawn, but his face was lined with worry.

Rio took a few steps closer to them. Thomas had to admire her courage. "How did you find us?"

"On accident," Thomas said. "We were following a couple of Barians to find Yuma Tsuku-"

This, clearly, was the wrong thing to say; Ryoga made a guttural noise and lunged at him.

Mihael parried the intended blow as Thomas backed up rapidly, reaching for his own rapier. "We're just looking for Yuma Tsukumo, you lunatics."

Rio laughed wildly. "Why? So you can finish what you started? We know you're the ones who brought him and our prince to the Barians in the first place!"

Thomas's eyes darted toward the Healer standing several yards back. Surely she remembered how he had blocked the prince's powers and controlled Tsukumo's body. He could so easily do it again. Well, almost. It was draining, the amount of effort required to focus on controlling his own body in addition to another's. "We didn't come here to fight. We came here to-"

He grunted, parrying another strike from the captain. Lances had the advantage against swords; this had to stop now if he wanted to conserve his strength.

"Will you listen to us?" Mihael said breathlessly, locked in a furious parrying battle with Rio.

"Not after what you did," Rio hissed. She seemed to have the advantage; though they seemed to be evenly matched in skill, her weapon was lighter than Mihael's, and was ever so slightly faster. In a battle like this, a faster weapon made all the difference.

All the while, Kaito stood back, eyes gazing listlessly at a tree while his half-drawn sword lay slack in his hand.

"Damn this!" Thomas focused his energy into his gem. Ryoga was his target. He would control Ryoga, make his body turn on his sister – not to kill her, but to slow her down – so they could drop off the damned weapon that Akari demanded they return to Yuma and get home before their father noticed they were gone.

Ryoga's body seized up, and the blind fury in his eyes shifted into bewilderment. Thomas sank to his knees, breathing heavily. It was taking more energy than it had to control Yuma, which had been a substantial amount to begin with. He felt his arm become heavy, felt his energy sapping.

All he could make Ryoga Kamishiro do was lower his lance a few inches.

Why? Was it because he was a Dragoon? Was this part of his power?

"Thomas."

Kaito regained some of the life in his eyes as he sheathed his sword. He grabbed Ryoga's arm and pulled it down so he could kneel next to Thomas without having the lance at his back. Thomas gritted his teeth; he had failed to beat Ryoga Kamishiro. Despite his soul being removed and infused with the powers of the Barian World, he still couldn't stand against this one man.

It infuriated him.

Nearby, Rio and Mihael had paused, both holding their weapons out, but neither attacking. Their eyes were on Kaito, who rubbed his chest. He was filthy, and Thomas wanted to scoot away from the smell that he carried. His too-big clothes were torn and grimy and bloodstained and hung off his body that looked like it hadn't been fed in a month; the gloves on his hands were shredded, revealing nasty gashes on both hands. He looked less like a prince than a starving mercenary who lived in the woods.

"What happened to you, Kaito?" Thomas whispered.

"Where is Chris?"

Thomas felt a stab of anger. If that was all Kaito cared about – and all of this was Kaito's fault, all of his screwing around with Thomas's brother without a care for what it would mean for their kingdom, without a care for the consequences and how it would ruin Chris's life – then he didn't have a word to say to him.

"He was right."

These words were the most unexpected ones that Thomas could have heard from Kaito. "Right about what?"

Kaito closed his eyes and nodded. One hand slid over his sword hilt. "I should have fought from the start. I shouldn't have been a coward like him."

"You bastard-"

Thomas gripped his sword and lunged forward. Kaito didn't move. No fear crossed his face. He looked completely at peace.

Until Ryoga kicked him out of the way and knocked Thomas's sword off balance.

What happened next happened too quickly for Thomas to react, but he felt the searing pain flare up in his face, and he screamed, clutching his right eye, feeling the warm blood spilling through his fingers. It felt like his face was on fire; he hadn't felt anything comparable since the Barians had ripped out his soul. Mihael's faint voice carried from far away. Thomas ignored it and tried to shove off the hands that had grabbed his shoulders, hands that were small and gentle; he heard some voices, some yelling, some quiet chastising, some accusations, but none of it stuck in his mind because all he felt was the raging fire in his face-

-and then a cooling rush of ice, and the change was so dramatic that he couldn't breathe from the shock.

The hands on his face – weren't they just on his shoulders? – pulled away and he opened his good eye to see the Healer kneeling in front of him, but she was looking up at the captain, who had his arms crossed.

"The fuck did you do to me?" he demanded shrilly.

"Pull your hands away," the Healer said briskly, gripping his wrists with a surprisingly firm grasp. He kept his right eye firmly closed, afraid to open it. She made a soft noise of discontent before spitting on her hand and rubbing it over his face.

He immediately pulled back in disgust. "Don't you dare touch me with that filthy-"

"Shut your goddamn mouth!" Ryoga barked. "If I had my way, I'd kill you for what you did, so be grateful she's helping you at all."

Thomas bit his lip so hard it drew blood, but he kept quiet. She pulled a mostly-clean cloth from her bag and wiped the spit and blood from his face.

"He's very protective of Prince Astral and Yuma," Kotori murmured, just loud enough for Thomas to hear. "You shouldn't have said you were following Barians who were looking for them. You can imagine what he assumed."

He didn't reply. He turned his good eye to Kaito, who was kneeling where Ryoga had pushed him. "You know that they're finalizing their control over Heartland tonight," he said, and Kaito finally looked up. "Tenjo's next. And then it's all over."

Kaito exhaled, squeezing his eyes shut. "What can I do?"

"Keep Haruto safe from them. I'm sure you and Chris must have talked about it at some point when you weren't too busy fucking each other."

Kaito jerked his head as though slapped, and the Kamishiros both turned their horrified gazes to the broken man kneeling on the forest floor. So they weren't aware of what Kaito was up to? They didn't know how Kaito had helped them infiltrate the Arclight palace, because he had been there so many times, usually in secret? Of course, though; the Dragoons had a different idea of morality than regular humans did. The thought of two men sharing a bed – the thought of two princes sharing a bed – must never have crossed their minds.

But Kaito didn't defend himself. He pushed himself to his feet and rubbed at his face. "Then I suppose I must get back to him." He turned to Ryoga, who didn't look at him. "Thank… you. For your help."

Ryoga nodded stiffly.

Kaito's body slumped as he waved a hand half-heartedly and formed a portal. "Until we meet again, then."

When the portal vanished, Mihael bent down and placed the sword on the ground. "We really intended simply to return this weapon to Yuma Tsukumo, per his sister's request. When you see him… please give it to him."

Thomas felt Mihael's hands pull at his arms, and he let Mihael help him stand. He was exhausted; his entire body felt as drained as if he had run a marathon with no food or water to replenish it. When he tried to open his eye, it was blurry.

"You'll always have a scar," the Healer said quietly. She continued kneeling on the ground. "And your sight may not be as good in both eyes. I'm sorry."

Thomas cast a glare in Ryoga's direction. The Dragoon stared back indifferently. "If we encounter one another again, it will not be in peace."

"That's fine with me," Ryoga said, shifting his lance. "I won't hold back next time."

As Thomas dematerialized, he saw the Dragoon turn his back and walk off, his sister at his side.

Astral was still unconscious, and Yuma was very worried. He had never been out this long before, and the only reason Yuma wasn't in complete despair was because Astral's breathing was steady. On top of that, Shingetsu was starting to ask increasingly intrusive questions about Yuma's friendship with Ryoga. Yuma didn't mind talking about their friendship – how Ryoga had thought him annoying for the first month, how they had warmed to one another on a three-week survival training in the mountains, how Ryoga had taught him the stars and Yuma had taught Ryoga how to identify location based on the plants in the area – but then it got into the realm of questions Yuma would rather not answer. Whether Ryoga ever smiled (Yuma remembered the first time Ryoga had smiled at him; they had been doing an inventory of the palace weaponry and Ryoga had made fun of Yuma's handwriting). Whether Yuma would be able to forgive Ryoga for withholding the information about his sister. What Yuma would say to him when they were reunited.

They were valid questions, and Yuma could understand that Shingetsu saw no harm in them. But Yuma had to tell him to change the subject as they walked, because some of the questions were ones that Yuma didn't even know the answers to. And every time he thought he could bring himself to forgive Ryoga, Shingetsu would make an offhanded, innocent comment that somehow reminded Yuma of how his sister had been forced into marrying the enemy and he would be cast back into doubt again.

Did Ryoga lie to me because he didn't think I could handle knowing? Or did he just not think it was a good time?

It might have been Yuma's fault. Maybe Ryoga was trying to think of the right time to tell him, but then Yuma had kissed him, and they hadn't spoken in two days before they were split up again.

But then, shouldn't Ryoga have told him immediately? Wouldn't Ryoga want to know as soon as possible if something had happened to Rio?

"Yuma." Shingetsu grabbed the back of his cloak.

"Now isn't a good time, Shingetsu," Yuma murmured wearily. Astral was getting heavier to carry around and Yuma was already weak from lack of food. He didn't think he could go another round of Shingetsu wanting to know what Ryoga's favorite color was.

"No, I… I think someone's following us."

Yuma paused. He didn't hear anything. "Are you sure?"

Shingetsu nodded, wide-eyed. "Positive."

The last thing they needed was to be chased through the forest with Yuma dragging dead weight with him. It could be someone harmless, someone who had just wandered through. But it could be someone who had identified them. Like a Barian. Yuma could see only one outcome at this point if it were a Barian. "Shingetsu, I hate to ask you to do something like this, but..." Yuma looked down at the unconscious man in his arms. "Would you… go see who it is?"

Shingetsu gave him a sloppy salute. "I can do that. I'm very good at hiding."

Somehow, Yuma had his doubts about that, but he nodded encouragingly as Shingetsu hurried off. He picked up the pace. He needed to put as much distance between them and the person following them as possible.

It wasn't nearly fast enough.

Shingetsu sprinted up next to him, breathing heavily. "Two men, not too far behind us. One is a big guy who has kind of a shaved head but with hair that sticks up in the middle, and the other is short but he has dark skin and black hair-"

Despite the urgency, Yuma froze.

They would never be able to outrun two Barian generals, let alone outfight them. Not in their state. They needed Astral's powers. They needed Hope.

"Who are they, Yuma?"

"Alit and Gilag," Yuma whispered. "Emperor Durbe's generals."

Shingetsu's mouth opened in surprise. "Oh gods. Yuma, what do we do?"

They could try to run, and delay the inevitable by a few minutes, or Yuma could try and fight. He was skilled with the sword, but Ryoga's sword had a heavier balance than he was used to, and both Alit and Gilag were equally skilled in close combat. Yuma's fatigue and lack of energy would cripple him.

Either way, he didn't see how they would last another ten minutes.

"Yuma?"

Shingetsu was waiting for him to make a choice. He swallowed, trying to ignore the guilt tugging at his heart. Shingetsu had never wanted to get mixed up in this. He was innocent, and trusted Yuma, and somehow got tangled up in their web of misfortune. Yuma couldn't let Shingetsu die because of their mistakes and their problems.

"We're going to run," Yuma said finally. "When they catch up-"

"Don't say things like that-"

"Shut up and let me finish." Yuma turned and trotted off, gritting his teeth at the effort. "When they catch up, you need to run, no matter what."

Let me die fighting, at least.

"Yuma, no!"

"Shingetsu, just do it!"

Shingetsu looked back through the trees. Two figures were about eighty yards back, and they had spotted them. Yuma closed his eyes. The last time Alit had chased him, Yuma had been leading him along for an ambush. Now, Yuma was being chased like a lion hunting a scared deer.

I'm sorry Astral. I failed you.

"Don't give up, Yuma." Shingetsu took Yuma's face in his hands and gazed at him intently. "Save your prince. I'll hold them off."

What a foolish suggestion! What could Shingetsu possibly do to hold off the Barians? But Shingetsu gave him a smile and a push before heading back toward their pursuers.

Would Shingetsu be one more dead friend on Yuma's conscience?

Yuma ran. He stumbled through the trees, crashing through low branches, scraping his face, getting leaves and twigs tangled in his hair and Astral's hair, but still he ran. He never turned to see if the Barians were still pursuing him. He was sure they were. What good could a bard do against two of the most skilled warriors in the Barian Empire?

Droplets of water trailed behind him as he finally fell to his knees, unable to move another step. He collapsed onto Astral's chest, tears soaking through Astral's dirty robes. He hoped when they found him, they would be merciful enough to kill him instead of bringing him back to Arclight. But they wouldn't kill Astral, would they? They needed his powers.

I would rather die than let them have my powers, Astral had once declared, and Yuma wondered if he should be the one to do it. If he should be the one to kill Astral to save him from the Barians.

A hand touched his shoulder and Yuma reached desperately for his sword.

"Shh, it's me, it's just me."

It was impossible. "Shingetsu? How did-"

There was a harder look in Shingetsu's eyes now. A grim look. "Yuma, I… I know you've been upset that Captain Kamishiro was keeping something from you, but I have something I've been keeping a secret too."

Yuma's throat went dry. "What… kind of secret?"

Shingetsu bit his lip and furrowed his brow. "Yuma, please, you have to understand-"

"What secret?"

"Yuma, I'm a- I'm a Barian."

Yuma couldn't breathe. That was impossible. There was no way… no way that this could be. Shingetsu had been a good friend, a loyal one, if not a bit overeager and intrusive. He couldn't be a Barian.

"Look, we don't have a lot of time." Shingetsu knelt next to Yuma and hesitantly reached for one of his hands. Yuma drew back and Shingetsu held out his hands in defeat. "All I could do was slow them down. They'll be here soon. I… I know it won't work again. You have to get out of here."

"Why should I trust you?" Yuma snapped. "Why should I trust someone who says they're a Barian? An enemy? One who invaded my kingdom and killed everyone I love?"

"Because we're not all like them!" Shingetsu's eyes were filled with tears. "Please, Yuma, you have to believe me-"

"You're a Barian!" Yuma intended to scream it at him, but it came out a strangled whisper. That was probably for the best. "You're all the same!"

"No we're not!" Shingetsu grabbed Yuma's face again, and Yuma felt a shudder wrack through his body at his touch, but Shingetsu held him firmly. "You trusted me when you thought I was a human! You trusted Rei Shingetsu. I swear to you, Yuma, I will never hurt you. The Barians who invaded your home, they're led by the Seven Emperors. We're not all like them. Some of us want to live in peace. We don't want to be hated. We don't want constant war and death- please, Yuma, even if our friendship is weaker now, please trust me. This once."

Yuma reached up with shaking hands – though from anger or fear, he didn't know – and pulled Shingetsu's hands away. "I don't have the energy to take Prince Astral anywhere."

Shingetsu lowered his eyes and nodded. He had never hurt Yuma or Astral before. Yuma would have to trust him this once. In return, he wouldn't tell Ryoga that they had been travelling with a Barian. "When we were in that village, Prince Astral used his powers to form a massive transportation portal. I've never seen one so large, and it must have used up an incredible amount of energy."

It made sense. "That's why he hasn't woken up."

"I would guess so. If… you could wake him up, he could probably do it again, and take the two of you to safety."

"He's unconscious," Yuma snapped. "If I could wake him up, I would have done it three days ago."

"I know, I know," Shingetsu said quickly. "That's why… that's why…" He looked at his hands. "I could… give him some of my energy."

"Absolutely not."

"Yuma, please-"

"No." Was Shingetsu insane? There was no way he would let a Barian transfer its powers into Astral. He couldn't let Astral be tainted by Barian powers. "He's pure. I won't let you."

"Then you're both going to die."

Yuma reached out and touched Astral's face. They had come so far together. Against all odds, they had survived. Could they possibly be able to save their kingdom now?

It was too heavy a burden for Yuma to carry.

"Barians can't touch his key," Yuma whispered. "It pushes them away."

"But you can touch it," Shingetsu said quietly.

He seemed like a different person. Was this really the same absentminded bard that had followed them into the Waste? Was that an act?

"Yes."

Shingetsu turned his head back the way he'd come. Apparently satisfied that Alit and Gilag weren't following yet, he reached deep into one of his pockets and pulled out a tiny charm in the shape of the Barian crest. Yuma clenched his fists. He felt nauseous, even thinking about doing this.

"The crest is sacred to ancient Barians," Shingetsu whispered, rubbing a finger over it tenderly. "It used to symbolize the Dragon, an ancient protector. The Emperors perverted it into a symbol of conquest." He sounded bitter.

Yuma stared at it for a long moment before reaching for it. Shingetsu placed in in Yuma's hand and clasped it with both of his. There was a flash of soft red light and a sharp tingling in Yuma's fingers. Shingetsu let out a low breath. "I'll go keep an eye on them. Just have Prince Astral teleport a few miles. It'll be enough." He squeezed Yuma's hand. "Thank you for trusting me, Yuma. It means a lot to me."

Shingetsu stood and hurried off, leaving Yuma alone with Astral. Yuma rubbed his free hand over his face. He couldn't believe he was about to do this to Astral.

But if it saved their lives… he had no choice.

It didn't take long for Alit and Gilag to find him leaning against a tree, arms crossed. He greeted them with a wide grin. Oh, how he had waited years for this moment. It was almost a shame; they were good warriors. But their loyalty to Durbe ran too deep. As long as Durbe had even one loyal general, he had the advantage. He'd have to come up with something extra special for Mizael later, and he had a few ideas. He couldn't repress his giggles.

"Who the hell are you?" Gilag's heavy hammer was in his hands even as Alit rubbed the weapons on his knuckles.

Vector held his hands out peaceably. Well, somewhat peaceably, anyway. "What, you don't recognize me?" He placed a hand to his soft human face. "Oh, well, I suppose you don't." He shrugged, letting his hand drop again as he pushed himself from the tree and approached the generals. "What are you doing here, anyway? Did dearest Durbie have an epiphany? Oh!" He snapped his fingers. "That's right! How's Mizzy doing? Still alive, I hope?"

"Vector," Gilag spat, and Alit tensed. The two took a step back, almost in sync, and Vector giggled again.

"The one and only!" Vector placed his hands on either side of his face and gave them a wide, childish smile.

"The other lords have been wondering where you've been for a week," Alit said warily. "Where have you been? Why are you out here?"

Vector pouted. "Only a week? I could swear I've been gone for almost two." It didn't bother him in the slightest. Let the fools think he was imbalanced. The more insane they believed he was, the more he could get away with, after all. "Ah well, it's not important. What's Durbie been up to? Did he find a cure for the poison or is Mizzy dead?"

"It's none of-"

Vector pinpointed the exact second that Alit figured it out by the way those pretty green eyes widened. Gilag figured it out only seconds later, and his hand was halfway to his mouth before he caught himself.

"You tried to kill Durbe?" Gilag whispered.

"Well, I wouldn't say I did," Vector said, holding his hands up dismissively. "More like… I encouraged it." He tried to fight back his grin but he couldn't. Everything just fell into place so well. "Just nudge the right people into placing their pieces on the board a certain way and it works so much better. Less blood on your hands, you know?"

"You bastard," Alit hissed, lunging at him, but Vector had complete control of the air movements. He vanished and rematerialized behind Gilag, pulling a knife from his belt.

"My God, you had me tell you my secrets," Vector whispered, thrusting the knife into Gilag's torso. "How careless of me. Now I will have blood on my hands."

It happened almost in slow-motion; Gilag stumbled forward, Vector twisted the knife deeper, and… Gilag was on his knees… coughing up blood… falling… A satisfying feeling, really, with the warm blood spilling out over Vector's cold human hands…

Alit let out a wild scream and ran at Vector again with tears in his eyes – as if he didn't learn the first time, poor thing – but Vector left the knife in Gilag's dying body and wound up behind Alit, catching the smaller Barian in a chokehold. Alit was physically stronger, but Vector had done this before with larger Barians. It was a shame he wouldn't be able to feel Alit's blood pour over his hands, but he relished the sound of Alit's staggered breathing and the way Alit's hands clawed weakly at Vector's. He knew what was coming.

"Don't worry," Vector whispered in his ear. "It's for the best, you know. Mizael will be joining you soon enough, and you'll have an eternity together to regret giving your blood to Durbe."

Alit's mouth formed a word, but it never escaped his throat before Vector snapped his neck.

Vector released the former general's body, which crumpled to the muddy forest floor. He tilted his head at Gilag, whose blood was no longer flowing. A shameful death, dying in their human forms, but it was what they deserved for betraying their kingdom. He ripped the knife from Gilag's lifeless body and stroked the blade lovingly, a smile creeping over his face.

"It's all for the best," he said, but no one except God was there to hear him.

He should get back to Yuma, and put the last piece of his puzzle in place. Thanks for doing all the dirty work for me, Durbiekins. You did such a good job.