Chapter 45: Mask
By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.
A/N: Welcome back! My break and exams went pretty well, so now I'm super motivated to write again! Here's to returning to my regular schedule!
So...I actually don't know if I'm doing a good job or not. I have 20 reviews but it's been a while since I got a recent one. I hope I am doing a good job, the only tell-tale signs I have are from the viewership numbers...
N: ?
Somewhere, on the Sacaen plains...
The crackling of the fire sends chills down my spine, and stars glisten on the night sky. My dust-wrenched throat takes in a deep breath of the warm Sacaen air, and my mind screams at me for hydration. I have no choice but to oblige and dig into my bag to retrieve my bearskin canteen...
My hand juggles in between an assortment of different objects, and a faint sound of rummaging leather tickles my ear. My finger jostled between a notebook, some provisions, and a painkiller, among other things. Eventually, I retrieve the object I so desperately desired. The container filled with fresh water I had procured at a nearby village...
Ah...this'll do...
I uncork the canteen and raise the beverage to my mouth, but I stop short of reaching my mouth. It was impossible to drink in my current condition.
Oh...that's right. I need to take this thing off.
I briefly lift my mask and for a moment, my scarred face was visible for the world to see. I don't waste a second and gorge myself in this precious liquid, and savor every drop. Given the uncertainly in the plains, it could be days until I could have another adequate drink again.
Pity, oddly enough...I was expecting more.
Slightly disappointed, I returned my canteen to my pack and rolled over facing the stars. They were as beautiful as ever, and the sight brought back decaying memories of the one I love...
Laniakea, the red glimmer from the planet of Mars had reminded me of her adorable eyes. I had undertaken this journey in the hopes I could somehow reunite with her once again. If the dry scars in my body were any omen, I'm destined for a future of pain, misery, and destruction...all for the cause of a master I did not trust. Him nor the three cronies he had sent to watch over me. However, in my eyes it was all worth it. If just for a chance to fulfill my promise to my niece...the only light in my life.
With the death of Alexia, we only had each other now. She was likely rotting in a cell God knows where, probably suffering through whatever medieval atrocity Nergal could throw at her. Torture is a tool commonly used here in Elibe, and was a favorite among the people in power.
I don't like this thought at all. My little girl is tough...but how long could she last?
Still, there's the possibility that she's unharmed, Nils and Ninian had no evidence of bruises or cuts after all. However, there's also the chance she could be dead already...but that's unlikely. I know that he's aware I'm alive, and should Lani still be as well he'll be waiting for the perfect opportunity to leverage her against me. So...the better question is what would I do should he offer the life of my little girl for say...the head of a lord? Would I accept?
!
Agh...
This'll have to wait for now...
I press a cold rag against my head as another migraine violates the membrane of my skull. These had been coming more frequently as of late, ever since the injury Barthillas gave me in Caelin. This ailment was the sole reason I carried a few pills of acetaminophen and codeine in my pack, otherwise I wouldn't be able to think clearly throughout the day. My ability to think will be needed for the job I will soon be tasked with, that of the damned profession. The tactician of an army...
Barthillas, Matthew, and Yanden. These men had travelled all the way from Lycia to rescue me from the clutches of death, but I feel no gratitude towards them. Their goal...or rather the goal of their employer is geared towards the exploitation of me...so I'll be damned if I show them any warmth. They didn't need a happy, "go-getter" of a tactician anyhow...so I won't give them one. I'll work through with my cold hard intellect to win...at any cost...
Speaking of them, they were still sleeping soundly nearby. How easy it would be to just...run away from everything. To escape into the wide expanse of the plains and throw myself at the mercy of a tribe...but I knew that was stupid. Although I could easily integrate with them just as I had done in Illia, I understood that this would likely spell a death wish for my niece...so it was out of the question. Nobody in this planet will protect her but me; the Marquess couldn't care less about the wellbeing of one little girl. All that he cared about was securing his own power...just like any other autocratic monarch.
Come on Samuel, give him a break. I know I'm more angry than usual...but you can't just throw that man under the bus. He might genuinely care about your plight...
I scoffed as I finished that thought. This man had tried to kill not just me, but her as well. How could I ever hope to trust him?
I shake my head and retrieve my notebook from my pack. At its front was a Latin cover with my name written on it, though the inside content is composed entirely in Spanish. Given the conspicuous nature of this world, I had done this to safeguard my inner thoughts from the prying eyes of both my enemies and allies. I open the journal and turn over to a date exactly one day ago...on the date of my rescue. I look back at my previous entries from time to time as to refresh myself on the goings of past events.
My focus intently on the messy words I had inscribed. My iris expands as they gander upon phrases like "Comatose", "Betrayal", and "Deal". To my relief, I could see my memory was like a leaky pipe in winter; still functional but otherwise troublesome.
I place my hand under my chin and think, Hm, let's see how much of this I still remember...
One week ago...
Clang!
Yanden's black sword clashes with the executioner's matching blade and sparks fly. The surrounding crowd erupts into a swarm of panic, though neither fighter seemed to care. They reset their stances for another test of strength, and neither fighter aimed to disappoint.
"Arghhhhh!"
Clang!
Yanden shoots a look at me to run, and I don't hesitate to oblige. I squirm my way up from the scaffold's lower compartment and stand up just in time to dodge a stray blow from the executioner...
Crack!
The wooden floorboard directly in front of my right foot explodes into a dozen pieces. Embedding his sword within the woodwork, the executioner silent cursed at himself for his shoddy effort of craftmanship. I don't wait for him to pick it back up, and I take advantage of the fact he no longer had a weapon. I lower my shoulder..."
Biff!
"Ack!"
The towering man falls off the scaffold-like building during an earthquake. He hits the ground with a thud, with his head hitting the ground hard. Seeing this, I cover my mouth with my bruised hands...
I said, "By the Creator...is he alright?"
Yanden looks at him and then grabs my arm. He was rather forceful about it...so I figured I didn't have much say in where I was about to go.
He replied, "Aye...you've just given him a concussion. Just let him sleep it off. In the meantime..."
He extends his sword and whispers a short incantation into the runes of his blade. An ominous black muck surrounds it, and he follows up by pointing his weapon directly at the crowd in front of us. Whatever humanity was left lingering there wisely decided to run for their lives, lest they face certain death...
Yanden muttered, "Pity...I was just going to calmly ask them to step aside. No matter..."
He sheathes his sword and rushes me over to a trio of waiting horses on the town square. Meanwhile, the executioner looks around with a dazed look at his face, and a single villager lingered around clutching onto his bruised forehead.
She exclaimed, "Executioner! The convict is getting away!"
He looks over at the woman with a childlike expression, "The who?"
I feel a sting of pity for the man. As the recipient of many concussions myself, I knew how it felt being in a state of utter bewilderment. You'd forget where you were, and how'd you got there. Episodes of dizziness would follow, and sometimes killer migraines would make the rest of the day utterly miserable. This was not something I'd ever want to deliver towards someone else willingly, especially if that someone was simply doing the task impressed to them by a higher power.
Still, it's not like I had a choice. The executioner was working towards a goal that directly conflicted with mine, which was survival. Had he been in my shoes, he most surely would have done the same thing. There are not many things greater than a man's drive to live after all...
"Samuel! Get on!"
I squint my eyes and notice that Yanden did not come to Höger alone. Standing by the horse was a nimble-looking Matthew, along with a heavily armed Barthillas. Their long hats and outfits reminded me of those old cowboys movies starring John Wayne, but in place of long revolvers instead existed a sharp dagger along with the mighty Fellbringer, respectively.
Barthillas' gaze follows behind me, and he immediatly drew his weapon. The holy hammer glistens with white light, with the heat greatly contrasting the surrounding cold.
He exclaimed, "You two! Get down! Illian soldiers are on your tail!"
The commotion at the town square did not go unnoticed. Several cadets were eating lunch at the nearby tavern when they heard the commotion outside, and all it took was the sight of a concussed executioner to spur them into action. Sword-wielding soldiers were quickly closing in on us, along with two Pegasi-mounted knights.
"Fellbringer! Bring me strength!"
He lifts the hammer and slams it onto the ground, sending a shockwave of white energy throughout the town. The force was great enough to trigger a minor tremor, and the result created a shroud of dust. Visibility was cut down to several feet...which was perfect for our escape...
Matthew grabs me by the scruff of my collar and throws onto the saddle of one of the waiting horses. I was unready to take the reins, but that didn't stop the young theif from slapping the behind of my steed...
He exclaimed, "We've got to go!"
I'm caught off guard when my horse lifts her front legs from the ground. I nearly fall off, but that doesn't stop her from gracefully prancing back onto the ground. Undeterred by the uncertainty of her rider, she lowers her head and charged forward, with myself only narrowly hanging on by the horn of her saddle.
"Woah! Easy there girl! C-Calm down!"
Had I possessed a moment to examine my steed, I would have realized that this horse wasn't just any horse. She was a Sacaen Stallion, a breed particularly sensitive to the heart of their rider. These stallions only obeyed the will of strong people, and they ignore all commands once they detected a hint of suspicion suggesting the contrary. In this case, the stutter in my words was enough to set her off, and I was now simply along for the ride.
"Ahhhh!"
I'm helpless as the beast barreled her way towards the village gate. The lone guard tried to stop my stallion, but he was effortlessly cast aside like a plastic toy. Regardless, she continued on like the good horse she was, and I could hardly believe my eyes when I realized we had done it...
We had escaped. I may not be a free man, but I'm definitely alive...
"Neigh!"
"Agh! Oof!"
My body hits the ground with a thud. The stallion obviously didn't take a liking to my handling of her reins, and she made it a point by bucking me of her saddle. She looks at me like I was some bug to be squashed underneath her hooves, and a bead of sweat drips down the side of my face...
I said, "Hey Hey...no need to get feisty. We're on the same side remember? I think."
The horse blows out a thick stream of air out of her nostrils and then turns away to gorge on a stray patch of grass. I breathe a sigh of relief...
Thank goodness. I thought she going to hurt me...
"Samuel!"
I turn around and see Canas running towards me. For the time being, neither of my trio of saviors were visible…
I replied, "Canas! Boy, am I glad to see you!"
He closes the distance and we quickly exchange firm handshakes. This was the first time we'd been able to speak to each other since my birthday.
He asked, "Are you alright? That look in your eyes you had earlier...it was unsettling. I didn't think you'd ever snap out of it..."
Ugh...yeah. I forgot I've been overcome with despair for a whole month. Canas and Camille must've been worried out of their minds...and they were right to be so. During that entire period, I felt like I incarcerated my conciousness behind an impenetrable cell of my own emotions...I hadn't felt this way since that day I attempted to take my own life...
The only silver lining is that this time I managed to keep myself alive long enough for rationality to prevail. Something was keeping me going during those dark times alone in that cell...but I don't remember what...
Oh, that's right. Those pleasant memories. The smiling faces of Alexia and Laniakea kept me going...along with the happiness I shared with the others. I kept on hearing Laniakea tell me three words over and over...with each repetition building the resolve within me until I could finally break free...
Now, what were those words again?
I close my eyes, and suddenly remember Laniakea's familiar voice.
"I love you."
I smiled and embraced Canas in a hug. He wasn't expecting this spontaneous demonstration of affection, but reciprocated regardless.
I said, "Canas, I'm afraid I'll be leaving you for awhile old friend."
His monocle nearly falls from his face, but he manages to keep it there. The aura around our interaction changed as well, now it became clear that this would become what could likely be a final farewell.
He said, "Oh...I see. That's a shame, I really would have liked you to stay here for a bit longer."
I shook my head and sighed, "I'm a wanted man Canas. I don't think I can ever show my face here again...but I can't think about that right now. Laniakea is still missing, and my loafing around has already cost me a month of lost time."
Canas asked, "Ahem. So...I'm assuming he's come to take her?"
I nodded, "Yeah. It's a long story, but I don't have much time to tell you about it. After he set fire to my home, he must've sent an assassin inside to kill any stragglers. That assassin killed Alex...but for some reason that heartless murderer spared my little girl..."
I paused for a moment and held my tongue. The thought of Jaffar boiled my blood, and my hatred for him at this point was second only to Nergal...
I wanted to kill that man, if only to avenge the death of my late lover...
For now, I pushed my anger deep into the inner chambers of my heart and continued...
I said, "I...think Nergal has an interest in Lani's draconic blood. I read in Nicholas' book that supernatural creatures like those contained exponentially more quintessence than the average human...so I suspect that Nergal intends to use her as his own personal juice box if he hasn't killed her outright already."
A shiver travels down both of our spines. Quintessence extraction was an extremely painful process for a victim that was still alive...and that was a fact neither of us took lightly. That's why it was important to me I work quickly...
Canas asked, "Do you think...these men can help you with that?"
I shrugged my shoulders, "I'm not sure...but I kinda already have a feeling who their employer is. I suspect that it's within his interests to deal with Nergal. In order to do so, he'll most certainly require a tactician with experience in small-scale warfare...and I think I fit that mold perfectly."
Canas nodded, "I see, I hope you stay safe in your endeavor. By the way, who do you think is their employer?"
I replied, "Oh, probably Lord U-"
Bif!
Canas' eyes roll back and collapses onto the ground. Luckily, I catch him before he hits the ground, and I glimpse his attacker's red cape.
I exclaimed, "Matthew! You m*! Why did you knock him out?!"
He shakes his head, "There's nothing to be gained by letting him know of our plans, and it's better that he stays in the dark. There's a high probability that the journey ahead of us will kill us both...so if you have any love for your friend then I suggest you let him sleep."
Kill us both?
I spy Barthillas and Yanden calmly approaching. Their clothes were dirty from all the dust cloud they sent up earlier, though a noticeable spot of blood was visible just under Yanden's collar...
I exclaimed, "Yanden! Please don't tell me you killed someone..."
He shakes his head, "No, unfortunately this is my blood. I sustained a nose bleed on my way here."
Barthillas chuckles and casually pats his brother on the back. A drip of blood falls from his previously clean nostrils.
Yanden protested, "Hey! Stop doing that!"
Despite their nonchalant behavior, I take an uneasy step back. It was at this moment that I recalled a vague memory from not too long ago...back when my body was still under Azazel's control...
Oh...I see Barthillas is still doing alright. He hit me pretty hard with that move of his...it even gave me a concussion. Man...the pain from that fight still feels familiar. It's enough to make me wary of him and his brother...
"Aye, what's the matter?"
I was so entrenched in my thoughts I didn't notice Barthillas had wrapped his arm around me in addition to his brother. An intense sting of fear sends a shot of adrenaline through my body, and I push him away...instinctively grabbing onto my temple in the process.
"Ah! Don't hurt me!"
Barthillas said, "Don't worry about me, boy. Your head is in no danger right now. Settle down."
I raised my brow, "Huh? Last time I remember, you were this close to killing m- I mean Azazel. Surely you don't feel the need to finish the job?"
Yanden replied, "No, our mission was to subdue the demon. Our intention was never to kill...but Barthillas unfortunately went a bit overboard in that. No one's ever survived his Sacrificial Light attack before...you're a lucky man to still be alive."
...
The small string holding my mind together thins out slightly...and my right eye twitches...
I shot back, "Lucky? Your brother's Fell- Fellgrabber or something like that gave me the worst concussion of my life! Azazel forgot who he was for a while, and the pain afterward was aggravating as hell! I still get some lingering migraines from time to time, and I won't doubt it if I start forgetting things soon..."
Matthew replied, "Pity, did you try drinking one of those soothing tonics?"
I nodded. A soothing tonic was that metallic elixir Serra gave me to treat my ailments all those months ago. It specializes in healing mild-to-moderate brain injuries, but it proved worthless in this case. The injury was far too traumatic for even the magic of this world to handle.
Barthillas said, "Well, I'm sorry but...there was nothing else I could do. It was either knock you out or let the demon you allowed to control your body free reign about the helpless souls of Caelin. Might I remind you he nearly killed both Lady Lyn and Taliyah?"
Puzzled, I asked, "Who's Taliyah?"
The trio of men looked at each other with surprised looks on their faces. A tense moment of silence followed, and the wind pressed tightly against my back. This was worse than they thought.
Yanden asked, "Um...she's the nurse who treated your wounds after your fight with Rath. You two weren't fairly close, but were well acquainted."
The gears of my mind churned as they searched for a single memory of that nurse. They stressed as they travelled through the damaged passageways of my brain, ultimately stopping at an impasse located somewhere between a couple damaged neurons. The two cells were still healing from the trauma they had suffered long ago, but somehow they still produced a single image. The image of a blue-eyed, straight-haired, short blonde girl.
I said, "Oh...Taliyah! I swore that her name was Artoria or whatever...but yeah I remember her."
My audience breathes a collective sigh of relief. It would appear I hadn't completely gone over my head yet.
I asked, "So...how is Lyn doing? Is she alright?"
The brothers shrugged their shoulders, and Yanden said, "I'm not sure. By the time we left she was still in a coma..."
I raised my brow, something...didn't seem right.
"That's odd. I ran into her late last year. She was...healthy..."
Not only was she healthy...but she was out to get me. I wonder how she knew where I was...somebody had to surely have told her...
Suddenly, I finally put two and two together. Pure, concentrated rage surges to my head, and the weight of all the injustices committed to me finally comes crashing down. The death of Alexia, the exploitation of my talents, the disappearance of Laniakea, the clear betrayal by Matthew's employer...it all culminated into one ball of heavy weight that causes the string in my mind to finally snap...
Off the corner of my eye, I see Matthew try to make himself as small as behind a pile of stray boulders. Just before he vanished from view however, I shoot him my evil eye.
The evil eye was a tool Hispanic men and women only reserved for situations that required discreet, yet absolute expressions of distaste towards another person. It was believed in my own culture that the eyes of a strong person could drain the power and soul of a weak peer regardless of the former's intention, and at least in this respect my weapon seemed to have worked. Matthew immediatly stops in his tracks, and his face drained to appear more like a meek weasel than an adult man.
I said coldly, "You...your people tried to kill me. Y'all gave her information about my location and sent her thinking she would finish the job your assassins couldn't do..."
I approach him and grabbed the man by the scruff of his collar. I let him peer deep into my now glowing green eye, and whispered words that could terrify even the strongest of men. It didn't help that I greatly outmuscled Matthew, I was both superior in terms of height and weight.
I scowled, "Not only did you show an utter disregard for my well being, but you also endangered the life of the crown princess of Caelin. Your employer toying with the lives of others is something I find disturbing, and that makes him no different than Nergal. What makes you think I'd ever work with a man like that?"
Matthew squirmed under my grasp. My hand had glided over to his neck, entrapping him in a chokehold.
Yanden exclaimed, "Samuel! Stop it!"
My veins bulge through the surface of my skin, and for a moment anger nearly overtakes me. Had it not been for the sliver of resistance present at the back of my mind, I surely would've killed them there. But...what exactly was this sliver of resistance?
Laniakea's voice echoes through my mind again...
Sammy...what are you doing? Why are you going to kill this man? Would you do this in front of me?
"Ughhh…"
I drop Matthew from my grasp and allow him to return to the relative safety of his companions. He took great care not to accidentally step on Canas' still comatose body, as doing so would light my already short fuse.
I glare at the three men with the same evil eye I had granted Matthew. I speak with an ominous tone with vile undertones.
"I want to talk to your employer, face to face. No more secrets. Your boss can be working towards a goal aimed at the greater good for all I know, but I don't care. You people will work on my terms...do you understand?!"
I honestly didn't care less if Matthew's employer was trying to save the world, as his methods to had already proved disastrous towards myself. Only one thing mattered to me, and that was the safety of my dear niece. The ends justified the means in my mind...even if it meant twisting the hand of my future client. Even if it meant embracing the abrasive side of my personality and taking on the role of the villain.
I smiled and let my sanity pass by the wayside for a moment. Nobody but myself saw this...but that was for the better. It took every ounce in my body not the break into a maniacal laugh.
If this world wants to treat me cruelly, then so be it. I'll damn this world just as it damned me, and I'll serve no man but myself and my family. This ancient world doesn't want to understand that, but I'll make them learn. Even if it means teaching them at the end of my blade...
Several weeks later...
We've trekked these past few weeks through the beautiful prairies of Sacae, making good time save for the occasional run in with bandits. I mostly spent the journey in silence considering the tension that still stuffed the air, though this detail didn't disturb me one bit. My past toils in the Nabata Desert have already trained me how to deal with isolation, so I made do by losing myself in my thoughts.
Trust no one, especially nobody involved with Matthew's employer. Everybody in this world serves somebody, and you can't know what some lord may have in store for you. I...will not allow myself to be taken advantage of again.
The memories of my past misadventures still remain fresh in my mind. The few battles I fought for this employer...what was it all for? A few gold coins for a broken body and a world of pain? How about my literal enslavement by a nameless salt cartel in Missur? Hell, I even fought for Lyn's cause at no cost...what was wrong with me? Why did I side with her in the first place?
...
I don't remember. I suppose that's a problem I'll be having for a while now...ain't it?
I knew that the concussions I had suffered in the past were beginning to haunt me. This constant healing in my brain will probably cause some form of CTE when I get older...but for now all I had to deal with was a marginal lack of focus along with some memory loss. From today onward I need to keep my head protected at all costs; another blow to the head could may as well trigger Alzheimer's down the road if it hasn't already.
Ugh...I need to come to bear with these new developments. I must adjust my life around these symptoms too...
I regretted losing my old journal. After misplacing it somewhere in Sacea, I lost heart in the art of note keeping and didn't keep another one. I could solve most of my memory troubles if I could just read it again. Given my burgeoning forgetfulness I'll likely have to start another one...but that's manageable. My only fear is that one day I may forget who my dear Laniakea is, but I hope it never comes to that.
Try to remember her face every day Samuel. Keep her in your mind no matter what...
We eventually make it Ostia in the middle of the night, and the full moon glistens in the sky. The streets were baron save for the lonely constable wandering the streets, and I found it odd how he was the only man watching over the capital of Lycia...
Matthew said, "Crime is hardly an issue in Ostia. We have a rather militaristic society here, most of the young people are in the military or works for them..."
Another militaristic society. Everybody's so focused on fighting each other that the tools required for soft power like economy, technology, and diplomacy have become second rate. No wonder the vast majority of the people here live as impoverished peasants. They make no inroads to improve their well-being, all the lords care about is the enrichment of themselves!
Thoughts like these would be considered heresy if said them out loud, so I kept silent. My already distasteful perception of the nobility had transformed into abject distrust towards them, and Lord Uther was no different...
We continued walking through the relatively unimpressive city until we came across what appeared to be a castle. The structure was smaller than the fortress that loomed overhead, so I was curious about what this place was.
I asked, "Why does Ostia require two fortresses in their own town? Surely you're not terrified of the enemy within the safety of your mountains?"
Ostia is located in a valley surrounded by mountains. There were only a handful of ways an invading army could strike at the capital...
Matthew replied, "That's the first castle built by Roland when he founded Ostia. A future marquess found a more defensible location further north, which is where the seat of government is now. This structure serves as a school for Elibe's leaders, its name is Atalonia.
I see, so what he really means is that this is a place for the elite to mingle while the masses continues to stay uneducated. Despicable, absolutely despicable. Trash like this is making me wish I wasn't so apathetic to that that Carazanite's cause. What was his name?
...
Oh that's right. His name was Carvel.
Despite my pissed off demeanor, Ostia wasn't as stale as I perceived it as. The school itself looked beautiful, and the planned nature of the town was stunning. Residences were cradled within clean streets with ample room to walk, and nature seemed to hug with the buildings in an amicable union. Tall trees inhabited isolated pockets around town, with some homier ones containing nests with sleeping pigeons. Well-to-do shops had merchandise in display outside their windows, a symbol of the financial prowess Ostia contained as a singular city...
Well, Ostia has to pay for those troops somehow...
Eventually, we make it to the front gate of Castle Ostia. A couple of knights wearing the thickest armor known to man guarded the thick exterior walls, with their steel suits completely obscuring any semblance of individuality. I couldn't even see the man (or woman's) faces, and an uneasy sense of dread washes through me.
I frown as the soldiers open the gate, and an anxious bead of sweat fell down the side of my face...
I will finally meet this mysterious employer that's been working behind the scenes. I may not like him...but that doesn't mean I don't feel nervous. I need to watch my words going forward...the Marquess has already shown a willingness to end my life if push comes to shove...
...
Blue moonlight peers in through the tall windows of Castle Ostia. My eyes strain as I try to make out the faint silhouettes visible only by faint torchlight, with my pupils fixated on this tall, pyramid like structure at the end of the room. Iron men similiar to the ones guarding the front gate stood at either side of this magnificent throne, with whom I presumed as the marquess standing high out of view.
Uther claps his hands, and torches magically alight around the dark, damp stone room. I'm immediatly taken about by the simple, yet elegant murals over the wall. They reminded me of Italian frescoes I saw while observing over the ruins of Pompei...but these works were much colorful than the former...
Uther said, "Ah, I see you're impressed by the works of art I have adorning my great throne room. They're not just there for show you know, all of them tell some sort of story relevant to the tale of Ostia. That certain scene you see over there by the way...I think you can infer what it's about? The one with the shepherd looking over his flock?"
I nodded, and gaze over at the fresco in question. The scene was reminiscent of old Christian depictions with Jesus representing the shepherd and his devout followers likewise the sheep. To them, this was supposed to be an amicable gesture showing the Christian God's love and affection over humanity...but I quickly understood that this was not the case here in Ostia. A simple gander at the artwork could confirm this much.
To begin, the shepherd was not looking over his sheep with a serene gesture on his face. Instead, he wore an intense scowl that carried authoritative undertones, and his sheep hung their heads low like the insignificant animals he implied them to be. The flock huddled near this shepherd with a mixture of fear for both the man himself and the surrounding wilderness. A wilderness that can only be implied to be more dangerous than the bloodied knife the shepherd carried in his left hand.
This...is disturbing...
Uther said, "Now now...I wouldn't be so choked up if I'd be were you. We created this piece with a pessimistic view of our role towards the commoners in mind. It reminds us royals what we can become should we ever indulge ourselves in power, nothing more than a tyrant whose feared by his own people. A ruler should never rule by fear alone, otherwise, the people may rise up one day to initiate regime change. That...has to be avoided at all costs."
He points his finger over at the shepherd directly. His clothes were unusual and were composed of wolf skin.
He continued, "This man may claim to protect the sheep from the wolves nearby, but his dress suggests otherwise. It shows his true nature does not differ from the wolves he's supposed to fend off, and thus he undermines the trust his people have given to him. This...is simply not expected from the Marquess of Ostia."
I replied, "Yeah...that makes me feel so much better about this whole thing now. Propaganda sure is nice...ain't it?"
Matthew shoots me a look of shock and then quickly kneels before his lord. The two knights by Uther's side had now taken on a defensive stance...my sarcasm was not taken lightly.
He said, "M-Milord! I humbly apologize for the tactician's transgression! He...does not mean it."
I scoffed, "To hell I do. Somebody in your spy ring should've told you I don't respect nobility. All of y'all are the same egotistical, detached scum that have no sympathies with the common peasant. I long for the day they'll rise up to burn this whole system to the ground, and elect their own leaders to for a better future. All autocratic regimes end the same way...and although that may not come in your generation...I am certain your descendants will one day deal with their reckoning."
This monologue was damning, and I had said it with the sole purpose of setting off Uther's temper. My goal was to expose the man as the tyrant I figured he was...but it came to no avail. Lord Uther had more self-control than I initially suspected.
He gestures to his guards to stand down, and tells Matthew to stand up. Barthillas and Yanden were standing the front door with astonished expressions on their faces; they had likely predicted a worser result for my arrogance. For his part, Lord Uther spoke to me with...an uncomfortable calmness in my voice.
"I...understand you come from a different world. One where your people were much more free than here in Elibe...and may I say that you might be correct. Someday my people may rise and destroy the hand that feeds them, but until then I will do everything in my power to hang on to the reins. With that being said, there currently exists a threat that not only threatens me...but also every living being on this planet. I require your help in that matter...but I also want to get something clear..."
He glares at me with an imposing stare, and Matthew breaks into a cold sweat.
"You need to know your place. You are but a commoner in a world where your lineage dictates everything, and you should have understood that by now. In case you don't, I'll be happy to show you what happens to rebels in Ostia...but I hope it doesn't have to come to that. Unless...you never want to see your dear Laniakea again..."
I clench my teeth but hold my ground. It was a good thing I had a mask on, otherwise I would've lost face because of the untempered fury it was hiding. I briefly contemplate leaving right then and there, but I stay. I'd gain nothing by doing that...so I traded my pride for the opportunity to rescue Laniakea.
Uther leans back on his throne, and takes a deep breath. The tension in the room was choking now, and I had a feeling he was holding back from doing what he really wanted to do to me. In a way, I could empathize with this plight...and this was enough for me to build a marginal amount of trust with him.
Still not much though. He and I will probably always be on cold terms. A liberty-minded commoner and a royal will naturally be enemies...but I'll hold my own if he can as well.
But still, there's one more thing I want to get clear.
I said, "Lord Uther, if we're going to work together...then I want to make one thing clear."
Uther replied, "What is that?"
"If you want me dead, then don't send some poor soul to do your dirty work. Allow me to come down here to the castle grounds and grant you that task yourself. I won't go down easy. I'm tough as nails...and I will bring you hell."
Uther looks at me with an indifferent gaze, but I can tell that his mind was churning with my odd request. This was nothing short of an insult at my part...but he couldn't help but respect my aggression.
He said, "That won't be necessary. I trust that you will act respectfully and honorably, so there is no reason to plot for your death. Why fight each other when we should focus our power towards bringing down Nergal?"
Well, he has a point there...
I replied, "Right...Nergal...to my understanding I'm to be involved in a certain mission. Care to flatter me with the details?"
Uther obliged, "Very well, you are to report to Pharae at the conclusion of this meeting. My intelligence ring has informed me that Nergal has been pulling together resources for something big...something that can end the world?"
The world?
"Okay...but if this is as big as you're making it out to be then why don't you assemble a Lycian army to put him down yourselves? My expertise is dealing with smaller units...y'all would be much better with one of the educated tacticians from the academy. Large scale combat is not my forte."
Uther replied, "You bring on a good point young man...but had that been the case I never would've summoned you. Unfortunately, that vile devil is working underneath the shadows, and the only way we can deal with him is by responding with our own low-key forces. I've already brought up Nergal's plans with the league at an earlier date...but that didn't amount to anything. We need a small force that can easily travel from canton to canton or from country to country without issue..."
I said, "So you essentially want me to lead a platoon of non-affiliated mercenaries. You get the subliminal force you need while not creating a diplomatic nightmare. Your plan is ingenious...but I'll be needing the rank becoming of a platoon commander."
Uther nods, "Indeed. Henceforth you will be known as a Lieutenant."
Well...at least this whole arrangement isn't all bad. Being called a Lieutenant has a certain ring to it.
I said, "Alright, I accept this rank. Now, where are the troops I'll be leading?"
He replied, "Well, you see I can't provide you with any troops of my own otherwise the League may feel uncomfortable. You'll be tagging along with a young noble whose journey I think will ultimately lead us to the man in question."
Great, another noble.
Curious, I asked, "Erm, may I ask who this noble is?"
"Of course, though you'll likely have to kill that accent if you want any hope not to be discovered. He's a man you're well acquainted with, his name is..."
"Lord Eliwood..."