49. Secrets: Thorn of hope
Irzoile strode the streets of the capital city of Forsena, enjoying the way the people shrank before him. As well they should, before the man who they had named Deathbringer.
Not just Deathbringer, but "the" Deathbringer. The name was from the sword he was never without, a trophy from the deceased kingdom that had been the Beast Kingdom. It had once been a sword of a Forsenan warrior, and now it was home again, a trophy and symbol of the emperor's power.
His name was whispered in fear and awe in every alley of this, the city of Forsena, capital of the Forsenan empire. He had conquered half the world in his reign. He could feel the fear, the respect, the awe, as he walked through the streets… and it gladdened him.
They called his wars the "Wars of Death." Fitting, he thought; but he wanted more, not only more power, but even beyond that. He wanted immortality, something that the conquest of paltry human kingdoms could not give him.
And he had found a way. It was a demon who had come to him; that much he knew, and hardly cared. The otherworldly creature had sent him a witch of reincarnation, offering him a lengthened life, in exchange for… a later favor.
Already he had far exceeded a normal human lifespan, and the whispers had begun. But even so, it was not enough; the magic of death was limited in its ability to give life. What he needed was some of the legendary Mana. Real Mana, not the party tricks performed by today's so-called mages. Their power was minimal, and that was why he had always stuck with simple force.
He knew what he had to do. Anise had realized it, so long ago, and he would be foolish not to learn from the lessons of history. He would consort with demons if that was what it took; but ultimately, he would find his way to the Goddess. And she would be his as well.
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With the walls of Etansel behind him, and the view of the valley before him, Rubens stood facing the three girls. Women, he reminded himself; but they seemed so young, still. The youngest of the Jumi. Where had four sisters even found the stones they needed, so late?
But they had them, and those stones had the sparkle, the rivulets of Mana flowing through them that many days he found it hard to find even within his own core. Perhaps they needed a few knights like these.
It brought the total roster of the Jumi to one thousand and two. Not that they had added a new name to the roster in some centuries. It had taken Diana the better part of a week to even find the scroll, cracked and tearing, and had been recopying it ever since, muttering her wonders and worries about the four Jumi sisters that had shown up on their doorstep, to a city where the Clarius was weakening. It was only a handful of years after the four had arrived that Lady Blackpearl had departed; but that was quite enough time for her to make an impression on the newest Jumi. As the oldest Jumi never failed to do.
There was a reason why he addressed these women in particular today. They had become Jumi, begun their search for the stone, to fight what Deathbringer had made of their homeland. They were originally from the once-free city of Maia, and had lived in the capital long enough to know, far more than they wanted to.
"The city is in danger," he told them, with a candor that not so long ago he would have never exhibited around those only Half-Lucidia. But then again, he thought, a lot of things had changed, hadn't they? "We only have the tears of Florina left, and the threat of the empire grows closer with every year that Deathbringer defies his own mortality." Florina was too young to be Clarius, it was said, too fragile; but they had little choice. She was all they had.
Beryl, Margad, and Kata exchanged looks. What he was telling them was nothing new; though the Empire had always been a distant danger, it was not until these four had come that it was realized that distance might be far less than they suspected. But they were obviously wondering what role they were meant to play in it all, yet to their credit, enthusiastic and unafraid for whatever it might be. "What can we do?" Beryl spoke up, her eagerness proudly displayed.
"We could try to find Deathbringer, and get rid of him, now that we're Jumi!" added Margad with rash exuberance. "We're lucky together!"
Rubens sighed. "No, you three sisters have yet to be knighted." Grumbles arose among the women, but he ignored them. "I shall have to ask Lady Blackpearl."
"Lady Blackpearl?" asked Kata. "But... I thought she was expelled!"
Rubens braced himself, to reveal some carefully-hidden secrets that necessity dictated must be divulged. "Officially, yes. But now that you are about to become knights, about to leave the city, I will tell you… she is looking for Mana, for the sake of Florina." He felt a pang even mentioning the name of the Clarius, the woman who was calmly suffering for the sake of them all.
The sisters looked surprised. "We did not know," spoke up Beryl. "Where is she?"
"She travels around. Leires, Mekiv… wherever she thinks she can find some Mana."
"So it is magic you want?" Beryl asked reasonably. "Isn't Geo the place for that?"
"It is," Rubens affirmed. "And now I can tell you… I am sending you there. To see what you can find. Rumors of hunting have begun to trickle to us." It was their youth, their enthusiasm that gave him the hope that they might be able to find something that so many others had not.
The sisters looked puzzled. "No one has been allowed to leave," Kata wondered. "But now you want us to go to Geo… they say our cores are sold there."
"True, there was once a core shop there. It was closed for some time, but I have heard… it may have reopened again." He said those words dispassionately, even though they chilled his very soul; he hoped it was not true, but the twisted thing was, it might be the only chance to find some of the Jumi that were missing. "Does that scare you off?" he asked honestly, casting his gaze from one to the other and then to the third.
"No!" they exclaimed as one. "We're ready!"
They had come to him prepared to leave, as he had directed; no doubts, no regrets. But now, as they energetically turned to go, the youngest of the four sisters, Esmeralda, came running in. She was always the most enthusiastic, the most impulsive, the most charming of the four; but young, so young; even more so than her sisters, naïve in too many ways to count.
"Hi!" she announced brightly, greeting Rubens and her sisters as one. "Going somewhere? Are you going outside?"
Beryl, the eldest, spoke for all. "Esmeralda… we are not going on a vacation."
"Is it Geo?" Esmeralda asked blandly. "What? I've heard the same rumors as everyone else. New jewel hunters. But I don't care. I've always wanted to go there, to learn magic at the academy. I'm not afraid of the core shop."
"Why, Esmeralda?" Rubens interjected. "You are a guardian, isn't that good enough?"
Esmeralda looked at him then with surprising fierceness. "Because I can't cry. This is the only way I can do anything." She paused. "I want to be a knight like Blackpearl!"
Rubens found his old friend's name caused as much pain as ever. The things they had faced over the years, the things she bravely faced still, somewhere, out there, lost alone in the world. Still, there was some fire in this one, the same sort of fire he once had, that had once given him the nickname "Flame of Hope".
But he could not in good conscience let this girl get in over her head. She was a guardian, and as such, she would be protected, whether she liked it or not. "You have a responsibility, Esmeralda," he chided. "You protect the Mana within. That's why you, of all your sisters, became a guardian." Beryl, Margad, and Kata nodded agreement.
Esmeralda pouted. "What's so different?" she asked petulantly. "They're both there to protect Mana, aren't they?"
"Yes, and no," Rubens replied. "Perhaps one day, their value will be the same, and the difference inconsequential, but for the moment… Mana is scarce, and for that reason, the guardians are too precious to risk. We can only hope that one day it will not be necessary to guard Mana so tightly."
Esmeralda pouted, but said no more, and Rubens only watched as the sisters made their goodbyes to each other. Together, he and Esmeralda silently watched them leave the protection of the city, he sending out a quiet prayer to Goddess old and new for their safe return.
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She knew Deathbringer would be waiting for her.
She called herself only Sandra now. It was what Florina had always called her, the only one of the Jumi she truly respected. And loved.
And that was why she had taken Florina away.
It had only been a short time since she had sealed Florina in the prison meant to keep her safe, and she had wasted little time. It was a bare handful of Jumi whose cores she had taken before whisking the Clarius away; but now that Florina was safe, there was nothing standing in her way. Now, her path led her here.
She sauntered into the throne room with the confidence of someone who knew she was expected, if not precisely welcomed. That wasn't her problem, anyway. The guards bowed to her as she strode past the enormous double doors, but she paid them no mind. She gave even only the slightest acknowledgement of the man sitting on his throne, the man who carried himself with the arrogance of one who called himself both Emperor and Deathbringer.
"Greetings," Sandra said curtly. "Dismiss your servants."
Irzoile swept a glance around the room at the blank faces of the men who stood stiffly, almost lifelessly, at attention. "No need," he replied. "They will hardly repeat anything said here without my permission."
"So be it," Sandra replied, the problem already discarded, and she moved on to the matter at hand. "You know why I am here, of course?" He merely cocked an eyebrow, his eyes grim and slightly furious, not willing to admit that he had to pay back the favor he had accepted.
"Don't look so glum," she told him coyly. "What is wanted of you is not so great. In fact, you might even find it… enjoyable."
"Oh?" asked the emperor, leaning forward, suddenly interested. "What is it that your master wants me to do?"
Our master, Sandra thought, right after that cringing at the knowledge of her own slavery. It was a willing sort of slavery, but not without its costs. "Etansel," was the one word she spoke.
"The fabled Jumi city," Irzoile replied slowly, carefully. "What of it?"
Sandra let her mouth widen slowly into a blatantly seductive smile. "You will be the one to conquer it," she practically purred. "The primary… impediment.. is gone. They have no tears to heal. They are there for the taking." She could see the questions in the emperor's eyes; but she was hardly about to give away all her secrets.
Deathbringer leaned back against his throne, stroking his bearded chin thoughtfully. "That would indeed be a challenge," he said, clearly interested. "A magnificent display of my power. But it cannot be found."
"That is not a problem," Sandra replied. "I will lead you to it."
"But only a Jumi could - " Irzoile began, before Sandra harshly cut him off. "That is not your place to question! You will do as you are told!" she barked at him, and felt a small flush of fear as he jumped to his feet, furious at her impertinence. A long moment passed as the challenge hung in the air, and Sandra resisted the urge to breath a sigh of relief when he sat down again.
Not that it mattered. Neither of them had much choice.
"A question," he finally asked, breaking the silence, his voice now reserved and polite. "The cores… they have power. What do you plan to do with them?"
"There's many things that the power in the cores are good for." Sandra grinned evilly. "They can lead to the Goddess, or… away." He leaned forward, intrigued. "They are for me," she finished, barely keeping the lust out of her voice.
"And they will be yours." He reached below his throne, and pulled out - a core, Sandra realized with a start. It was a purple, one whose signature Sandra did not recognize; nevertheless, she cringed despite herself as he tossed and caught it casually with one hand. "I haven't been able to do anything with them. Can't get Mana out of them to save my life – so to speak." He laughed, a sound at once both mirthful and evil. "You might as well have them."
He tossed it in the air, and Sandra neatly caught it, storing it away in a pocket with satisfaction. One closer, she told herself, as long as he doesn't get any ideas about keeping them. "If it's Mana you want," Sandra told him flippantly, "you should start looking for the Stones."
"Stones?" he asked, puzzled. "Not cores, then."
"Not cores," she agreed. "Mana Stones. Guarded by dragons."
He pondered silently; she knew she had him. "Then, what will you do with the cores?" he inquired casually.
"Not I. I am just the messenger. This is now the province of the Otherworld," Sandra told him. "The true power, as well you know."
Deathbringer grinned at that. "And what of the Jumi?"
What of the Jumi, indeed? Sandra asked herself. Better they quietly disappear, than continue to offer their false hope to the world. "There is nothing left for the Jumi," she said, finding herself laughing without really knowing why.
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Esmeralda went through cycles of loneliness and happiness, as her sisters traveled to Geo and back, again and again. She was one of the Jumi now, yes, but there was still nothing that could replace those who now shared not only her blood, but her core as well.
Since Florina had disappeared, they had been more often out of the city than in, looking for clues to the hunting that seemed to be multiplying with the Clarius gone. And she was jealous every time, jealous that she was not allowed the same. No matter how many prattled to her about how important it was to be a guardian, she wanted to be out there, doing something, not stuck in the city like some dumb rock.
She hung on every word of their stories, and on the eve of their latest return, the four sisters found themselves all staying up late together. "It's the core shop we've been checking out, now more than ever," Margad related to her. "There's something… strange… about it."
Esmeralda pondered that silently. "Tell me about the magic academy instead," she asked, and they fell all over each other with stories of the odd teachers found there and the things that were studied. It made her yearn to be part of that world.
The sun was just rising above the horizon when they finally calmed down from their sisterly excitement, conversation finally reducing to a calm and mellow buzz, they relishing in the comfort of each other's company. Esmeralda smiled as she looked out towards the dawn breaking over Etansel, awash in calm and peace, the expressions mirrored on all four. She shut her eyes, sinking into that calm and letting it carry her away.
It was a rumbling that got her attention.
Not the grinding rumbling of an earthquake, or the murmuring roll of thunder, but this… a quiet, distant echo that nevertheless struck fear into her heart.
She was suddenly alert, without really knowing why. Her eyes shot open, and the first thing Esmeralda saw was the hand and face of her sister Kata.
"Something's happening," Kata whispered, and Esmeralda nodded. Beryl and Margad stood warily, grasping for the weapons they carried as knights, a nod from Beryl bidding her to prepare herself. The sound grew dully, gradually louder, and Esmeralda hastily pulled on clothing to trail outside, following her sisters.
Etansel was already in chaos. Jumi were running every which way, knights and guardians trying to stay together, hundreds of people turning the ordinarily-peaceful city into a panicked mob. Screams, cries, wails could be heard from all directions, pouring over each other into Esmeralda's ears as she whipped her head back and forth, her mind trying to put it altogether, trying to figure out what was happening before it was too late.
And then she saw. Troops of the Empire.
Blankly, she wanted to believe at first that it was only a few, but as her eyes frantically sought her sisters, she realized the ugly truth. They were only the first, stiff ranks marching inexorably forward, she realizing the lines streamed back towards – where, she did not want to know.
It was not only men, she realized, frozen to the spot. More poured in accompanied by monstrous beasts, four-legged and two legged with all kinds of claws and teeth, and vehicles, strange machines she had never seen before, enormous things of metal rolling mindlessly forward with no emotion for the Jumi in their path. One fired a … projectile… a thing of fire and earth that collided with the precious rock walls of the Jumi city in a shower of sparks and ash, the thunder of the collision echoing all the way down the valley beyond.
That was not the worst of it. Her core cried out, and her voice screamed, as she realized what else was with them. Demons.
Some were hulking man-beasts, bipedal creatures of leathery hide and long-tipped claws, and some were… worse. Bestial, ghostly, and shapes her mind did not even want to comprehend. She knew, somehow, eerily, that if she reached for her core, those things would have no power over her, but the jewel that was now so completely her, now never seemed further away.
You're in shock, she told herself objectively, but it did not help, nor did it matter that she remembered being told that Etansel was inaccessible to the Empire. There was only the here, the now, and it was coming for her.
"Go!"permeated a sound, she somehow realizing it was a voice of one of her sisters, but for the moment unable to place which one. She saw a woman with a face not unlike her own, weapon bared as one of the monstrosities bore down, and with some last spark of self-preservation, she ran.
Had she any tears, they would have streamed down her face as she barreled through the glowing corridors of Etansel, a city that she had thought would be sanctuary, a city she had hoped was the last home of Mana. Mana is dead, she told herself, noting that she had no true direction more than any of the others who tore directionless every which way, trying to save themselves.
They were everywhere now, uniform ranks marching in armor of Granz steel, carrying weapons of Forsenan and Lorimar iron. The resources that gave Forsena its power, the power to destroy, the powers now being unleashed against those who sought only to protect.
She cringed when she saw the first Jumi die.
The soldier struck him with the butt of his sword. It was some Jumi of topaz; she did not know him, but he looked to be a young man, his innocent eyes going wide as he crumpled under the blow. Esmeralda swallowed her horror, and flattened herself against the wall, partly hidden by the shadows, nowhere to run as the troops filled the city.
The Jumi wheezed, and tried to get up. Esmeralda braced instinctively, waiting for him to receive another swipe of the weapon. It's alright, she told herself. Jumi can heal from any injury. He will survive.
But instead, the soldier sheathed his long sword, reaching instead to his belt to pull out a slim knife. Almost like a cooking knife, Esmeralda thought hysterically, irrationally, her mind refusing to accept what it was there for, even when the soldier reached out and with a quick motion, flipped out the core.
The young man screamed, and screamed, and screamed some more, for the seconds left in his life until he dissolved back into the flow of Mana. Esmeralda could only watch her kinsman die in horror, wondering, incredulously: Was it the cores that they wanted? So badly that they had dared to come and take not just the occasional one, but the entire city?
Sense overtook her, or perhaps panic, and she fled once again.
Where, she did not know, only knowing that she had to get away, away from the horror that was opening before her. Hunting was one thing, but this was nothing short of genocide, as other Jumi fell around her to be reduced to the cores that had maintained them, each time her wellspring of sympathy drowned out by the guilty relief that it was not her sentenced to die at the hands of another.
Suddenly, she found herself dragged to a screeching halt. She gasped as a hand firmly yanked her arm, shoving her against the rock wall behind her. She struggled viciously, trying to strike at her captor, but his sword was already at her core, and nausea overtook fear as she glimpsed the blade so perilously close to taking her life away.
She raised her eyes with her last ounce of courage, and somehow, appraised the man whose face was visible beneath the steel helm. Wavy blond hair, soft brown eyes - he might have been called pretty, thought some mad part of her. But it was ruined by the salacious expression on his face.
"You're actually quite nice to look at," he told her, openly leering as he cast his eyes over her from top to bottom. His free hand reached out to touch her, beginning at her shoulder and traveling down her body in a most entitled manner. "Too bad you are nothing but… a rock. A thing. A lump of dirt."
Better to be that, she thought, than to be a woman and have him take what he wanted. She cringed backwards, humiliated, hoping only that he would have too much scorn for her to do much but take her life quickly.
Suddenly, the soldier screamed, as a familiar sword blade appeared protruding out of his stomach. Behind him, her sister Beryl twisted the weapon sadistically, the young man's gasps trailing off into gurgles as his insides were destroyed and blood welled up out of his mouth and abdomen. Beryl yanked her weapon out, sparing no more glance for it even for smug satisfaction, as she stretched out a hand to Esmeralda.
"Are you alright?" she asked hurriedly.
"Y-yes," Esmeralda gulped, "just shaken."
"Get over it quickly," her sister urged her. "You must leave before it is too late. I will cover your escape. Margad and Kata have already been taken."
Esmeralda felt a pang, as if the last bit of her heart and soul was about to die. Two of her sisters, gone, and she had to leave the other behind. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a new group of soldiers; and as one spotted the two Jumi women, he yelled, and the group began running towards them, weapons already bared.
"I can't leave you behind," Esmeralda whispered. "I can't! You are the only sister I have left!"
Beryl looked at her with an expression of bone-deep sadness. In the distance, Esmeralda could hear the soldiers growing closer, but somehow couldn't find the energy to care. "You are my sister, and it was as sisters we found this," Beryl said as she touched her core, the jewel shining as calmly green as Esmeralda's. "But we are Jumi now. I am a knight, and it is my role to protect the guardians, for their lives are more precious than my own. They are the keepers of what really matters - our hope, our dreams, our future." Beryl whipped out her sword once again, and braced in a defensive posture. "You are a guardian, your responsibility is to survive!" Beryl shouted, as the soldiers fell upon them and she swept into action. "Now, run!"
And Esmeralda did, knowing that would be the last time she saw her sister alive.
She didn't stop running until she was somewhere out of the Jumi city, somewhere beyond the valley, somewhere in the grasslands at the border of the country that had once been her home – a country that had just destroyed everything she was now. She tumbled into the grass, and lay there spread-eagled, staring up at the sky, her chest heaving with exertion, and feeling with every breath the stone that was both her blessing and curse.
Hope, Beryl had called her. Hope is a thorn, she thought; being that hope had cost her everything she held dear. Where would she go now? The stone in her chest was so much a part of her by now that ordinarily she barely felt it; but on this day, it felt like a boulder crushing her beneath its weight.
"Esmeralda?" she heard a familiar voice, and she sat up, dizziness overtaking her as she did.
It was a male hand that rested on her back to support her, and this close, she could feel the resonance of a Jumi core. Not just any core… this one she knew. "Rubens?" she asked hazily.
His face slowly coalesced in her vision. "Your sisters?" was his first question. Esmeralda could only shake her head, wishing she could cry; but though she was the youngest of the Jumi, the Mana of the race itself was so weak that tears were something she could not achieve.
"I am sorry," Rubens told her with genuine feeling. "They acted as true knights, if that is any consolation."
Esmeralda didn't know if it was or it wasn't, but suddenly found herself dry-sobbing into Rubens' coat. He wrapped his arms around her paternally, and minutes dragged by as emotion drained from her, until she was as limp as a doll in his arms.
"I can fight," she whispered, irrationally. "I want to go back!" She tried to stumble awkwardly to her feet, only to find the knight of the Lucidia restraining her, he having far more strength than she. She struggled, screaming at him to let her go, but finally weakened, collapsing like a rag doll once again.
"No, Esmeralda," he chided her gently. "There is nothing left to go back to. As soon as I find Diana… my guardian…" He raised his head in what Esmeralda was sure was the direction of the Jumi leader. How many could not find their loved ones without the knight-guardian bond, she wondered; how many would find those loved ones, ever? He looked back, and his attention returned to her once again. "Now, more than ever, it is important to remain a guardian."
"Where will you go?" she asked in a small voice.
"I'm not sure," Rubens replied. "Maybe Geo." A city of magic, not the Goddess, noted Esmeralda; what did he expect to find there? "It seems to tug at me," he told her, as if reading her thoughts. "Maybe I just want to go somewhere I know there's Mana, with nothing left for us here. Are you going to go too?"
Esmeralda pondered that. Her sisters had just come from there; she knew every street, every building would remind her of them, and their memory was too fresh, too raw. Geo was the city of magic, and perhaps there she could find a way to bring them back, but for the moment… it was too soon for her to even admit that might be a necessity. "No," she replied. "At least, not yet."
"I see. But Esmeralda, don't forget… now, more than ever, you must find a way to keep your hope," he told her; although frankly he looked like he was rapidly losing his own.
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Rubens found himself pacing, as if trying to get somewhere but having nowhere to go.
The small apartment they had found in Geo was serviceable enough. It was just he and Diana. Perhaps he wished it could be otherwise… that the Jumi would be together… but at the core of it, it was about knights and guardians, and the two of them were destined to stay side-by-side, even if no others could be found.
He did not think Diana saw it that way.
She had become increasingly morose and inconsolable in the years they had been in Geo, and though he loved her every bit at much, he could not stop it. Perhaps it was understandable. She had been the leader, and she would feel responsible, deep down, no matter what happened.
It took a lot to break her… but it seems it had finally been done. Her guilt had long since overtaken the innocence the Jumi once had, when they could go any way they wanted, the innocence he dearly wished they could have once again. He had once been her support, her hope, in more ways than one, but this was beyond anything he could help, as either knight or lover.
But he tried.
Clarius, wherever you are, I hope you are faring better than the are we, he told himself as he fingered the brooch he meant to give her. She sat out on the balcony, watching the street below, and he approached her with an awkwardness that was a little bizarre for as long as he had know her. No matter how long you know someone, there are always things you might not expect, he thought to himself.
He reached over her shoulder, the deceptively innocent piece of jewelry so close to her core that she could not help but take notice. "What is this?" she asked, trying to feign indifference.
He placed her hand around it, and his fist closed around hers. She looked at him a bit wide-eyed, unable to hide her confusion, unable to deny what she felt from it. "It's an artifact," he told her. "A memory of what Mana was, and what it has endured, and how it promises us we can overcome any ordeal. It seemed almost to make her sadder. "It's what I hope for our love," he told her, his voice half-pleading in a very unfamiliar way.
She looked down, and away. Can our love survive the loss of the Jumi? Rubens wondered. Is there nothing left without that, are we nothing? "The thorn of hope," she told him, as he tried to coax her for the millionth time into acceptance. "Why did we ever think we could survive, as we were? Why did I not see it?"
He didn't really have an answer; his own fire was going out. She was caged in her dreams for the Jumi; he was trapped in his love for her; and neither could find a way out. "There is still Lady Blackpearl."
The name of her ancient friend seemed to perk her up slightly. "Blackpearl…" she mused. "She does not know how fortunate she is, having missed the destruction of the city. How long has it been since you last saw her, Rubens?"
"Some time," he admitted. Years meant little to a Jumi.
"You should see her. She deserves to know. I would go myself if I could." Rubens recognized that. She missed her former knight; as much as she cared for him and was bonded to him, a knight-guardian bond could never be truly replaced, even by another.
"I will," he promised. "I will make contact tomorrow." Tentatively, he fingered the fragile and unprecedented bond the three of them had created. It was still there.
He would be traveling to Leires soon enough, he knew. But for the moment, he was content to merely remain close to Diana. He lay down next to her, her light-brown hair spilling across the pillows. She never wore it down in Etansel, he thought idly. But here, it was free, as were they.
The Jumi as a whole might be gone, but he was a knight, and he would maintain his strength, as long as his guardian lived. He pulled her closer, and drifted off.
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Leires.
The tower had always bothered Blackpearl in an inexplicable way. She had been all over the world, but she had avoided the tower as much as she possibly could, even the region around it. It had nothing to do with the fact that it was technically part of the Empire; whatever the lines on the map said, the Tower would never let the Empire use its power. No, it was the Tower itself; it always felt strange to her, as if it would draw her in against her will.
But it was their designated meeting spot, and for that reason, and that reason only, she found herself there.
She didn't have long to wait. The bond the three of them had designed linked her to Rubens quite effectively; and despite the separation of distance, he was there within the hour of she herself. She rose as he approached, remembering the last time they had met. It had been for he to tell her that Florina had been kidnapped.
It seemed it was never good news when they met, and it looked like this time would be no different. It was never good news when they met. Rubens' face grew long as he saw her, and she felt a knot, realizing perhaps the rumors she had heard were about to be confirmed.
He minced no words. "Etansel has fallen."
"The Empire. I have heard." She felt little pain, now; she had already had some time to adjust, and accept. But she was able to recall the pit that had appeared in her core and soul when she heard the first rumor whispered, only to be shushed by those who believed Etansel had never existed at all, leaving no one to mourn what they considered only a legend. Hadn't that been her goal in the first place, to protect the city by cloaking it in secrets and mystery? She wasn't sure she remembered anymore. "Etansel has fallen," Blackpearl mused. "I suppose it was only a matter of time… our cores being stolen right and left…"
"Any luck finding the hunter?" Rubens asked her.
"Little," she admitted. "All I know for sure is that it's getting worse; it's dangerous to be a Jumi. That's hardly news." She harrumphed. "But I suspect… There are too many things she knew, and knows still, for it to be just anyone. I wonder…"
Rubens hissed as he caught her unspoken assumption. "If she was one of us?"
Blackpearl set her mouth in a firm line, not caring to comment further, not until she could put a few more things together. She wondered if someone was trying to beat her to the Sword, or if not, what else that someone might be doing. Parts of it all did not fit together. What did the Empire have to do with any of it? But she said none of these things.
"You're not giving up, are you?" Rubens asked.
"Absolutely not," BP replied. "If anything, it makes my own goal more urgent." Her shudder belied her confidence, and Rubens noticed. "This tower, then?" he asked. "Is this where the Sword is?"
"No… I thought, maybe," Blackpearl replied after a long moment. "But… it's a great power. Maybe something different." She paused once again. "But right now… I only feel… or know.. I have to go in. We've met here several times, but I've never entered the damn thing." Since I got my core, she silently finished for herself.
Rubens nodded. "Good luck, then," he said; and they left the goodbye at that. It was barely a moment before the forest hid her old friend once again.
Suddenly, the quiet of the forest seemed positively oppressive. Blackpearl found herself gripping her hammer a little tighter as she crossed under the raven-decorated gate. Being as old as she was did give one a way of being honest with oneself; and it was to herself that she admitted the truth. She was scared.
There was something about this place… a vague flicker of recognition, or a remembrance long gone. It felt like a sort of homecoming, naturally; it was the place where she had found her core. Like all Jumi, however much one's old memories may have faded, that one in particular never let go. Still, she had the uneasy feeling that there was more to the tower, something she couldn't remember no matter how hard she tried.
It resonated with her, it whispered to her. It teased her, it frightened her. But most of all… it called to her.
That was the only thing that kept her moving forward, one step in front of another, as she stepped across the threshold to find a rubble-strewn scene of ancient decay… the dead remains of something that had once been grand but now was crumbling into dust. Still, it remained standing, however broken it might look. An apt analogy, she thought to herself. Not unlike the Jumi were as well.
The thought gave her courage, pushing her forward with invisible hands, room after room, up the staircase at the end, and once more again. First one step, then another, then another.
Her core thrummed with the Mana filling the place. Not the sort of Mana she was familiar with, the gentle breathing of the core reflecting the life of the bearer. No, this was a turbulent, seething mass of flow, more than she could remember ever feeling at the same time, in this world without the Goddess.
Perhaps this place missed the Goddess as much as she herself did. How many things would be different, were she with us still, echoed the thought in her head.
Lost in that dreamlike trance, she pressed forward, not questioning why the lamps were lit in a place that had obviously seen no human foot in centuries. She mapped the place out in her head, every wall, every path, but… it didn't seem to all fit together. It was as if the path kept changing before her, she finding herself in the same spot over and over when she knew it should have been different, stairs connected in crazy ways, some meandering the sides of the building, some traveling through the center. It was as if the tower itself was fighting her, resisting the path she was choosing.
She paused, annoyed at being played with that way. Well, if the tower didn't like the way she was going, she supposed she couldn't argue with it. She cleared her head, and moved forward without thinking, simply following what appeared in front of her.
Blackpearl could almost swear she heard the tower breathe a sigh of relief, and the path certainly seemed straighter this time. Within minutes she found herself facing a set of heavy doors, inlaid with the pale silver of Lorant and the darker sort of Wendel, accented by leaves of Vizel gold. Suddenly, that vague sense of unease that she had become accustomed to flashed into being again, this time as full terror.
She caught her breath, and memory threaten to surface, an unwilling part of her pushing it down as much as she reached for it. It stopped her practically in mid-stride, a tumult of misunderstood feeling, and she struggled to recover her cool composure, finally squashing the distracting emotions.
She took a deep breath, and threw open the doors.
The room beyond opened before her, luminously filled by moonlight that rippled over an enormous mirror that overtook the floor. Its reflective surface shone peacefully, its bronze setting glittering only slightly. Blackpearl paced the circumference that enormous mirror, eyes drawn towards it, but somehow, she did not want to touch it yet.
Against the wall stood an enormous and ancient old chair, its pillows tattered and threadbare. It was somehow inviting nonetheless, and suddenly weary, she sat and sank into those cushions, gazing through the skylight ahead to the moons beyond, their light gently reflecting on the mirror as if in a pool of water.
The moon itself was said to house memory; it put her in a contemplative mood. She let whatever memories she still had wash over her, pondering everything that had happened, wondering if she was at the beginning once again. Before, she had felt the tower reaching for her; now, it could have been the moonlight, the quiet, or the simple repetition of her own thoughts that made her feel as if the tower was seeing into her very soul. The sensation made her profoundly uncomfortable.
But she had always done what Mana asked of her, and she heeded the call now.
Rising, she walked the borders of the mirror, her gaze settling on the bronze carvings with every step. With every pace, she felt as if she was walking again every step of her life. A full circle, and she knelt down, across from the door, though pragmatically one eye led to it in case she needed to escape.
She observed her reflection analytically. I am a Jumi, she said to herself. It was true; that was the core, so to speak, of who, and what, she was now. Jumi were there to protect, to heal; but did not all the destruction that had been wrought against them defy what the Jumi were?
A sudden, sparkling revelation occurred to her. "Alexandra," she whispered out loud, intense clarity suddenly filling her. "She is the jewel hunter." Ever since she had left Etansel to follow the traces of Alexandra's core, she had been bothered by the nagging suspicion that Florina's former knight had been the one to take the Clarius away; but a hollow spot began to form in her heart as she realized that Alexandra might have been behind the hunting. And so much more.
Why? argued another voice deep within, but she knew. Alexandra's accusations still rang clear in her head, angry words she had deflected because she could not acknowledge how deep they had cut. How much truth was there to them? She found herself tracking back the parts of her life, at least, as much as she could remember. She wondered how much of herself she had lost, and felt a pang of desire to reclaim it.
It left only one option, as much as she disliked it. She had to hunt Alexandra down. One of her own. The realization made her heart sink, as she mentally added one more black mark to the tally of decisions she wished she never had to make. Passion, anger, threatened to overwhelm her, and with difficulty, she forced them back down again, latching onto her own reflection in the mirror. The past would not let her go so easily, and as she stared into the reflective floor below her, her image… changed.
It was not just a shape, but a sense, a sensation building in intensity, the representation before her distorting and rippling, changing into a younger self she was not ready to face. She balked in uncharacteristic panic, shrinking back from things she did not want to see, did not want to remember.
Only to find that the reflection stood before her.
A small, pale girl, the form of a woman but not yet truly grown in a hundred ways that went beyond her simple physical shape. Eyes trusting, innocent, hopeful, questioning… all things she had given up so long ago, things she did not have the luxury of feeling again.
Panicked, irrational, she gave a mighty shove to push away the other woman, the woman who was herself as well. The figure tumbled to the ground, disappearing just before impact, a look of wide-eyed surprise and fear on her face. Unfathomably, she found herself crumpling as well, gasping as she found herself kneeling on the mirror's edge, overcome with regret for that one impulsive action, for losing control of herself. She felt bad, and afraid, like a little girl, far younger than even the one she had seen. There had been answers there in that vision, or whatever it had been.
She wished she could cry, and idly, she wondered if she had ever cried, even before the Jumi had lost their tears, even before she had even been Jumi. She could not remember. She was no guardian; she guarded the Jumi, yes, but it was the guardians who guarded Mana itself, and that was the more important by far.
That was not who she was. She was a knight. "A dark knight," she whispered to the moonlight above. There is one light behind another, Diana once had told her, and she thought of that as she stared at the moon, the moon that hid behind the sun during the day. Light within the darkness. That was who she was.
The thought gave her little reassurance now, as she leaned forward, wishing with all her heart she could cry, for those who had died, for those who had escaped, for the future of the Jumi. But most of all, she wanted to cry for herself.
She wondered if it was too late.
It seemed an eternity before she turned towards the door, though the moons had barely moved. She was ever more subdued as she retraced the corridors and stairs to the bottom, the path now straight and clear before her. If only the rest of her life was as well.
There is a reason hope was in Pandora's box, she thought, recalling the old legend. It is an evil like any other. She wished she could think of it any other way, but the bitter taste in her mouth would not wash out.
She felt relief as she left those gates behind, but also a sense of loss, as if she had left yet another part of herself behind.
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Even after he returned to Geo and related his encounter with Blackpearl, Rubens still found Diana pessimistic and heartbroken. Was Blackpearl truly the only one with any hope, any drive, left? he wondered. He was certainly having trouble finding it for himself.
He told her only the good things, reluctant to share the idea Blackpearl had put forward as to the identity of the jewel hunter; but she didn't need his words to bring him down. "Blackpearl feels… different, since you parted from her," she told Rubens, fiddling with her hair. She never wore it up anymore, and Rubens finally had some idea why. Her clothes were elegant, but simple as well. She wanted nothing that reminded her of who she once was.
"How do you mean?"
"She's… changed. Something has either left, or arrived, and I'm not sure which, nor do I know if this is good or bad." She turned to her lover. "I can't sense her so easily."
That bothered him immensely. Diana's tenuous, ancient connection was the only thing that enabled him to find Blackpearl. Without it, there would be no way to know where in the world Blackpearl was.
It was entirely possible he might never see his old friend again.
"There is so little of us left," Diana continued. "So few, and so little to give… It was all my fault, I couldn't hold them together." She sniffled slightly. "And even now, I can't cry over it. Isn't that just ridiculous?"
"Don't," said Rubens, suddenly very uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking. But she didn't seem to hear him.
"I should just give myself to the jewel hunter. What more can I do?"
"Don't!" This time Rubens grabbed her, forcefully, turning her towards him, wondering if the delicate woman could actually break. "Diana, you used to have hope!"
She turned her head away, but he would not let her go, and she turned to face him, reluctantly, but she did, and he continued. "Blackpearl is still alive, and so am I. Those are two people to place your hope in."
"How little to cling to," Diana murmured, wilting slightly against him as if he was the only thing holding her up. "If something happened to Blackpearl, the Jumi would be finished, and I would have nothing left to hope for." That stung Rubens; that was he had always thought of himself as being. But then again, he was now as helpless as she was, a lone soul fleeing on the wind.
He understood, and wished there was some way to let Blackpearl know how many people were putting the last of their faith in her.
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Larc surveyed his troops critically.
He was a general, and had been for so many years, that he barely bothered to count any longer. Like all the higher-ups of the Forsenan army, he had received the gift – as their Emperor called it – of a longer life. But that gift of life was meant for one thing, and one thing only, and that was to conquer in his name, to deal more death.
He was good at what he did – too good. It had earned him his nickname: "Larc the Conqueror." He had committed heinous crimes in the name of his sovereign, but it was for the most recent that he had the most regrets. It had been a decade since the Jumi city had been destroyed, and he did not think the world could ever recover. More so, it had been done for no reason at all, as near as he could figure, other than as a show of strength; the cores had been scornfully discarded, never to be seen again.
It was the emperor he hated, not the empire. He was from Forsena, the capital proper, and he knew it possibly better than anyone. His sister, naturally, was from there as well, but life had long since taken her down a different path. As much as he admired her, he was on his own.
Since the day Etansel fell, he had been preparing for this moment; but it had been the emperor's recent talk of searching for the "dragon stones" that had spurred him into action. He had assembled his forces over time, carefully so as not to attract undue suspicion; men and women discontented, disillusioned in the same ways he was, soldiers who were now loyal to him personally.
Now, they were poised above Byzel for their first attack, ready to cut off the Empire's wealth. This time, he knew what he was conquering, and why. He would deserve the nickname he had earned.
He thought of Sierra; it had been some years since he had seen her, but whether she knew it or not, what he did today was for her. He had always sought to protect her, even as he admired and emulated her. And he would save her with his own life, if he could.
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"The Jumi City. Gone," Sierra murmured.
Vadise rested on her forepaws, blue eyes blinking. "I thought it would never fall," she said, half to herself, and half to her dragoon anxiously pacing the clearing. "One of the few true pockets of Mana left in this world."
She did not need to be told to know what the real source of Sierra's agitation was. The woman had come to her before the Wars of Death had even hit full force, seeing where things were going, and wanting to do something to make a difference. Sierra had been much younger then, but she had taken on the responsibility, and the near-eternal life that came with it, bravely never looking back.
But that didn't mean she felt pain any less, and the news of Etansel's demise had made her eager and brash once again. Sierra's eyes flickered towards the small glade to the side.
"No, Sierra," the dragon chided gently. "It's far too soon. It will be at least another century before that thing is of any use, and even so, I doubt it will reach full maturity until the Goddess returns."
Sierra plopped herself on a tree trunk with a wry smile. "I suppose that means I can expect to stick around here for a while more, then."
"Do you mind?" Vadise returned the expression lovingly. Sierra grinned in response.
After a moment, Vadise spoke again. "What is your brother doing?" The siblings were rarely in direct contact, but she knew full well that Sierra always kept one eye on Larc.
"He is in Forcena, mounting resistance from within," Sierra replied. "It is the only hope. No other countries other than Forsena itself are strong enough to defeat it."
"Perhaps you are right," Vadise mused.
"What is it, my liege?" Sierra asked, always sensitive to the moods of the dragon.
"I am thinking…" Vadise paused, trying to clarify what it really was that she was thinking. "I think… it is all tied together. We cannot afford to stand aside, or it will come to us unbidden."
Sierra grew wary. "What is it you would have me do?"
Vadise focused her blue eyes on her dragon. "Go to your brother, and I will be right behind you."
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The dragon stones were going nowhere, thought Deathbringer. All that he had really managed to do was severely piss off some dragons, and had nothing to show for it.
It was a sudden, mad urge that had led him this day to enter the Underworld. He had heard there was a dragon down here; but that wasn't what he was here for, not this time. There was a Wisdom as well, but he hardly thought Olbohn would have any words he would like. Perhaps it was the simple thirst to see death all around him that had pulled him down here, meandering through corridors comforting in their feeling of loss and desperation.
Flickers of motion in the air distracted him in a very bothersome way, and he instinctively swatted whatever bug it was with a sharp motion of one hand. He saw a brief flash of candy-bright color at the edge of his vision, and improbably, an echo of shrill, giggling laughter. His head swiveled, and before he could focus on… whatever it was, it disappeared before he could focus on it, and suddenly that irritating laughter was all around him.
"Where are you?" Deathbringer growled, his voice echoing down the empty, dead caverns. "What are you? Fairies? Down here?"
"No, not fairies," a squealing, child-like voice replied. "Only their shadows."
Suddenly, they were all around him. Wispy, bodiless spirits, only the barest hint of facial features other than enormous, bulging eyeballs, and he knew. "Shadoles," he grumbled.
"Indeed!" they replied as one, their voice a strangely hypnotic sing-song. "What brings the Deathbringer here? Here to find the pretty Stone that's here?"
"Not today," Deathbringer snarled. "Leave me alone."
"Oh, but you want Mana, don't you?" they cooed. "Don't you want to know the way?"
That snapped Deathbringer to attention. He wondered what these ridiculous creatures could possibly know. "Tell me," he ordered, in his most commanding tone.
"You're not very nice," the one in front pouted. "But it would be pretty funny to send you after it."
"Tell me!" Deathbringer roared once again.
"Alright, already! Geez!" the Shadole replied. "You have to find the Goddess."
"I don't care about the Goddess, she's too pathetic to matter," Deathbringer replied scornfully. "I just want her power, her Mana."
"She doesn't really have much… now," the Shadoles replied. "She has to be unlocked."
"Unlocked?" Deathbringer asked.
"Yes," the Shadole replied. "Unlocked… or awakened, if you will. Find the key. Find the sword. The Sword of Mana."
The Sword of Mana. Something inextricably linked with the old legends of Anise, the thing that she had first hoped to find, a failed search that had led her to create the Eyes of Flame instead. Irzoile had always discarded that as pure fantasy; but now, that ancient secret came to visit him once again.
"That's all there is to it, huh? Great," he said sarcastically. "How am I supposed to do that?"
"The things you seek now… the things of Mana… they can lead you there, if only you know how to follow," the Shadoles murmured. "Sproutlings. Fairies, perhaps. Mana Stones. Jumi cores."
Jumi cores. "That damned Sandra," Deathbringer snarled at the last. "That's what she wanted them for."
"The Sword… it is the ultimate weapon," the voice of the Shadoles hissed.
The ultimate weapon… the very idea was too good to pass up. Deathbringer wheeled around and headed up to the surface once again, new motivation filling him. He knew now what he sought, and he would find it if it killed him.
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Sierra found herself above the capital of her homeland once again. She could not remember how many years it had been since she had last been here; the White Forest of Vadise was her home, now, and the Empire was no longer the same place as that in which she had been born.
But her brother by her side was as familiar as ever. It had been years since she had seen him last… but to her, he never really changed. He was all the family she had; he was her history, and the past would always be.
She had many reasons to be proud of him. The resistance he had built had become the stuff of legend, and with every success, every inch of territory over which the Empire's control weakened, more flocked to him and his cause. "Larc the Conqueror," Sierra mused out loud. "Seems to suit you, really."
Her brother only grinned, sharp canines filling the smile.
"If only you had the Jumi with you," she continued, "just as in the Fairie Wars so long ago. Rumors said they were ready to join, to fight once again, even after hundreds of years of isolation."
Larc's face fell. "I wish it could be so," he told her mournfully. "But even before, well, the destruction of their city - " here he looked down in shame – "they were weakened. They were not what they were back then." Sierra remembered Vadise's comments on the Mana Stones, and wondered how so little Mana could be left in the world. "We are pretty much on our own," Larc told her, as if echoing her thoughts.
Sierra looked down the hill and over the grasslands once again, staring at the city beyond. "So, what now, then, brother?"
"Glad you asked," Larc bantered. "We bring death to the Deathbringer."
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Time passed, years drifted by. Years meant little to a Jumi. They lived, in a sense, Rubens trying to make a way for them, and Diana never quite returning to the person she must have been.
News and rumors traveled to Geo, naturally. It was said Deathbringer had been killed; but this was little consolation to either of them. Gratifying, perhaps, but it did not bring back what had been lost. And as time wore on, it seemed the Empire itself was little changed, and Rubens wondered if Deathbringer was indeed gone after all.
Those rumors were perhaps – twenty? Thirty? years old already, and the last time he had seen Blackpearl was even a couple of decades more than that. As much as it had once hurt him, he had nearly forgotten all those things, settling into a routine that was – comforting, if nothing else.
Only to have it violently broken one night.
It was perhaps close to midnight, and Rubens lay peacefully against Diana, his arms around her, he himself at that border where part of him seemed to be asleep but was still awake enough to be aware of the outside, the sounds of the street below, the warm desert breezes that snuck their way through the windows. Suddenly, Diana sat bolt upright, her shrieks filling the silence that had been there only a moment before.
"What is it?" Rubens asked, worried, and though he wrapped his arms around her, he screams would not stop.
"She's gone," Diana wailed, "she's dead…"
Rubens did not need to ask who she referred to. "Blackpearl?" he asked, incredulously. "Dead? Are you sure?" he asked. The woman had been the one thing that had always been there in the background, the one thing that gave them hope, the one thing that convinced them that there still was something called the Jumi.
"It was gone… just like that. What else could it be?" she said, anguished. "You would think if anything could make me cry, it would be this…" She collapsed into dry sobs against Rubens' chest.
Rubens held her close, but he knew part of his own heart had died as well. They were only barely Jumi any longer; they were only two people, together. Only, as simple humans, they had lived far too long. Was it in the human mentality to process that? Could they ever pretend to be ordinary?
For her sake, he did.
It wasn't easy. It was clear to him that she had given up, every day there seeming to be a little less life, a little less sparkle to her. He tried to create some sort of mundane life for the two of them, but Diana did not know to be anything other than what she had been.
Perhaps it was some sort of last, desperate, romantic gesture that spurred him to take her to a ball being held at the mansion in the north of town. To his pleasant surprise, she seemed to take to the idea. For once, she dressed in her old style, finding an elegant dress for the occasion, and piling her hair up in the elaborate hairdo she once had worn. With pleasure, he noticed her pinning the brooch he had given her onto her dress, almost seeming an afterthought, but placed significantly just above her heart and just to the right of her core. As he watched her compulsively working every strand into place, Rubens stared, fascinated, once again seeing the beautiful, strong leader of the Jumi he had fallen in love with.
Not that anyone besides him would notice; it was better that way. Still, as the entered the festively lit mansion, her simple beauty captivated many in the room.
It was not what interested Diana the most. The mansion's owner was also a great keeper of artwork, ancient and modern. She fingered the brooch absent-mindedly as she wandered among the statues, stopping in front of a slightly whimsical sculpture of a centaur, wearing a large, floppy hat and carrying a lute.
"Stone," she murmured. "Trapped in it forever, aren't we? Only we still live, somehow, while they - " she motioned to the statue – "are free of it all."
"We're not just stones," Rubens murmured to her nervously. He realized he was truly running out of ideas, and things to say, things that could help.
Determinedly, he wrapped an arm around her waist, and steered her out to the gardens beyond. She did not bother to resist, a limp figure content to follow wherever he might lead her.
The sounds of the rest of Geo enjoying themselves faded into the distance, finally leaving the two of them blissfully alone… alone, that was, except for a sproutling meandering unconcerned among the plants. Rubens had no idea where the things came from – it had been perhaps in the past century or so that they had first been seen, and now seemed to be sprouting up everywhere, so to speak.
The gardens were beautiful things, certainly, at once both sculpted and wild, but Diana seemed drawn instead to the tree that was at the center. Not the Mana Tree, of course; this was only an ordinary oak, but shapely and ancient nevertheless.
She sunk down to the ground, at the last second remembering to neatly wrap skirts around her. The sproutling wandered over to her inquisitively. "The Tree. The Goddess," she murmured, barely audibly, turning her head up to the branches above. "Lost Mana. Lost knowledge, lost desire, lost hope. Lost dreams, lost love. Perhaps it was not to be." Her gaze traveled back down, but she looked not at Rubens standing at her side, but rather at the sproutling beside her. "I cannot find the will to trust that the Goddess will return."
The sproutling placed its leafy hands on her knee, and she met its gaze mournfully. "I like trees," it announced with a tinge of sadness.
Rubens couldn't take it. He pulled her to her feet, and wrapped his arms around her, determined never to let her go. She laid her hands gently against his waist, but she had no words left.
It was too late to stop her when he realized what was happening. The petrification began at her hands, but she had no second thoughts, and her determination drove it to her core in a matter of instants. Her body did not fade slowly, the sparkle fading out of her, but instead all her light flashed away at once.
"No," he whispered as he realized what he saw before him. He wanted to scream; but it would not come out. He wanted to cry; but that would never be.
He was left touching the face of a stone statue that had once been the woman he loved, even he in the end unable to give her the hope she needed.
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Esmeralda had been in Geo only a short time, but long enough to tell her Diana and Rubens were no longer there. Careful, discreet inquiries had yielded nothing, but really, that was nothing her core had not already told her; she sensed plenty of Mana, but no other Jumi, in the city.
She had hoped, a little bit, to find them; but really, she was on her own. By now, she was used to that. She had wandered the world for a while, telling herself she was "exploring" rather than running, until she finally believed it. And after Deathbringer had been killed – or so she had heard, though frankly she wasn't sure what to make of the many strange rumors coming from her homeland – the worst was over, and the world got a little safer. The territory of the Empire receded – border territories such as the Midnight Forest drifted away, and the Empire's always-tenuous hold over Geo was now nonexistent.
Of course, there was the jewel hunter; but then again, that was why she had come to Geo, at long last.
Geo was not a city of the Goddess. It never had been. So why was she here, she asked herself? Really, it was only to refresh her own memory. Her sisters had been looking for clues to the jewel hunter here; that much she knew. And with them gone, she was the last one to become a knight, to take up their sword (so to speak) and finish what they had started.
There was one thing more, though she hesitated to form the thought, to give herself inappropriate hope. Geo was the city of magic. If there was a way to find her sisters, to bring them back… a way that did not involve the tears she still did not have… here was the place to find that.
She found her way to the magic academy, the laughing voices of students drawing her in, and among the crowds… a sproutling. It skittered randomly, only to stop sharply in front of her. "I'm only thinking about flowers in bloom!" it announced cheerfully.
Despite herself, Esmeralda couldn't help but laugh. The thing was ridiculous. "Me too," she told it, and with a deep breath, strode forward towards the doors before her.
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The winds of Gato whistled through the mountains, and Rubens sat on the cliffside terrace looking towards the lake below, contemplating.
It was over, leaving only the memories. He had years of things to contemplate.
The Empire was defeated; not crushed, but it would never be what it had been, before Deathbringer's greed destroyed it. Not that it really mattered. It wouldn't bring back the Jumi, and it wouldn't bring back Diana. He only wondered how many were left in the world to be sought by the hunter; it was now a question of when, not if, she found them all. Including him.
At first, he had run blindly, trying to put as much distance between himself and Geo as he possibly could. He didn't know what had kept him going. It was no longer hope; perhaps it was the Goddess herself who had led him to unknowingly following a trail of Mana, to find himself here in Gato; back to the Goddess, to the Goddess that had betrayed him and all the Jumi. It was as good as anyplace to sink into anonymity, he supposed.
The Halloway priestess and her Liotte knight had noticed immediately the fairies flocking to him, the torches burning brightly at his presence. They had not questioned who he was; he could just as well be elven as Jumi. That served him well, it would cover confusion should anyone notice he did not age. Perhaps the priestesses knew, and merely chose to protect him; it meant all the same, as far as he was concerned.
He tried now to remember as little as possible. A distracting memory crept up, of once, long ago, being called the Flame of Hope. How wrong he had been. Hope was every bit the thorn that Diana said it was. He had given that up, along with everything else he had ever been a part of. There was only the now.
"Hope," he murmured to the empty air. "They say ninety-nine percent of a person's life is fate, and the last one percent is hope. Such a small bit to rest it all on."
The empty air responded, resolving itself into a fairy. Rubens blinked slightly. "A creature of the Goddess," he said harshly. "So, you come to me now, after all is said and done?"
She seemed affronted. "We are less creatures of the Goddess nowadays than you yourself are, Jumi."
Rubens flinched at the address. "What are you doing here?" he challenged.
"I came…" she stuttered, slightly aback. "We… we normally dislike the humans, but the Jumi… well, I came to help."
"You're too late for anything you could have done for me," he said, laughing ironically, reveling in the sound echoing across the valley. The fairy balked. "I once thought the Goddess could help, but if she Herself can't, there's hardly anything you could do."
"Or you just don't care?" the fairy responded. Rubens had no answer.
