Note:
This is a bit of an experimental chapter. I wanted to give the idea of a passage of time, as Rex and everyone stays in Garfont village for a few months, training, earning money to pay back people, and being stuck on their quest. I did this because while the game, for gameplay purposes, moves you on from Garfont fairly quickly, the relationship you have with Vandham always made it seem to me like canonically, they spent some time in his camp. So what I had was a bunch of social scenes that give some characterization and everything, and some insight on how people feel on certain issues, but the plot doesn't progress that much itself during this chapter. If that's not your cup of tea, sorry about that. But on a positive note, there's only 2, maybe 3 chapters left in the "Chapter 3" portion, and I am pretty excited about Chapter 4.
20.
Nia stretched out, yawning, beneath a large willow tree. Dromarch was by her side, slumbering, letting out a low, rumbling purr. Bright, warm sunlight filtered down through the tree's branches, dappling her face with shadow.
She looked around herself. She was in the middle of a large, grassy field, ringed by forest, the wind gently rippling through the grass in waves. A small pond stretched in front of her, reflecting a clear blue sky, dotted with a few gentle, white clouds. To her right, she could see...Morag? And Brighid? Standing in the field, looking off into the forest. And not that far from her, across the pond, was a small wooden cabin, smoke cheerfully rising from the chimney. And in the clearing in front of the cabin, there was Rex, practicing his sword form with Vandham.
How...had she come to be here? Nia shook her head. She couldn't quite remember. But...she felt a deep sense of satisfaction, of belonging, something she hadn't felt in so long, so drastic that it felt like a humongous weight lifted from her shoulders. She couldn't help herself as a smile spread across her face. Wherever this was...whatever was happening...she felt happy, in a deep fundamental way.
"Hello, Nia."
Nia scrambled back with a start at the voice snapping her out of her reverie, shockingly close. She looked towards its source, only to find Pyra standing a few feet away, staring down at her with a smile on her face. "Pyra…? Wha-"
"So, these are your new friends?" Pyra said, interrupting her. A sad smile played across her face, and she looked...tired, sorrowful.
Nia glanced around. Morag and Brighid were there, and now she could see Poppi and Tora off in a further corner of the field, dancing around each other, as well. As she glanced back over towards the cabin, Rex caught sight of her and waved to her, beaming, while Vandham crossed his arms and laughed. "I...I suppose they are," she said, more to herself than Pyra.
"Oh, Nia." Pyra knelt down to get on her level, face to face with the girl. Nia noted, with some surprise, that Pyra didn't look merely sorrowful. She looked...almost on the verge of tears. "I always knew you were going to be a difficult one to convince. You...have such a kind, beautiful heart. It's your affinity for healing...you can't help but care for other people. Form bonds with them." She sighed, longingly. "I wish...I had had more time to teach you how to protect that sweet heart of yours."
"Kind?" Nia laughed. "Man Pyra, what are you on about…? Last thing I am is kind-" Nia stopped, suddenly, as Pyra put a gentle hand against her face.
"Forming bonds with others...it's an inevitable part of life," Pyra said softly. "It...can't be helped. It's one of the few beautiful things about this world. But...like everything beautiful in this world, it's wound together with so much ugliness and pain. The beauty and the pain...can't be separated. If only I had been able to give you some of my wisdom...to teach you just how much all these bonds, all these strings, tying everyone together, how much pain they cause. To teach you that, as much as you can...even though you will inevitably grow close to some people...you need to struggle to keep your heart apart as much as possible." She laughed, quietly, with some despair. "You'll...fail. Everyone does. Another one of the little wonderful, awful things about this world."
Nia didn't know what to say. She wasn't quite sure what Pyra was driving at. "I don't think there's anything wrong with having friends," she replied softly.
Pyra's eyes flicked upwards, towards Rex, then back down to Nia. "Friends. Yes. But...you should know, yourself, just how these bonds can hurt. Not just you, but everyone. The Architect made a world, in his cruelty, where the deeper the bond, the more pain it will cause. And then made these bonds inevitable." Pyra looked desperate, almost, staring off into the distance, as if looking at something else, something far beyond. "Oh, Nia, if only you knew the extent of it all. The wonderful, awful, sadness and beauty of this world."
"My friends...these ones...they haven't hurt me," Nia said. She was beginning to feel nervous. Pyra seemed...something seemed wrong with her. She felt anxiety as tears began to flow from Pyra's eyes. Why, why was she so sad?
Pyra looked down at the Gormotti girl for a moment. Then she stood again, and pointed off into the distance. Nia looked toward where she was pointing.
There, in the distance, the horizon was turning black with storm clouds. The forest there was growing...dark, dead, withering away before her eyes. As she watched, the pitch black storm clouds raced across the sky, flickering with lightning, spreading with unnatural quickness. A harsh wind picked up. Nia could see now, what was killing the forest.
It was a flickering black flame.
"No matter how happy you are," Pyra said by her side, "Something will come along to turn your sanctuary against you. And everything that was beautiful will turn to poison, and hurt all the worse because you loved it."
And there, appearing from the depths of the dead and dying forest, emerging from the shadow, was Malos. He was wearing the winged, ebony helmet he had been wearing when she and Rex first met him, concealing his face entirely, and from his shoulders was draped a ragged cape that flew in the wind behind him, billowing out like terrible wings.
Behind him, now, the forest wasn't merely dying. It was collapsing in on itself, eaten by the dark flame, becoming some awful hole in reality. He sank his sword into the ground, and what it touched died, grass withering, decay spreading out from it in waves. "REX," he roared, and his voice was like a mountain crumbling, it was absolute, it was a command that had all the weight of the world.
And from across the field, Rex came running, running towards Malos, running towards that hole in the world, and Nia knew, with utter certainty, that he was running towards his death. And the thought twisted in her heart like a knife.
She leaped to her feet, leaving Pyra behind, running after Rex. Around her, the beautiful green field crumbled. The sky wasn't merely black with storm clouds, now. It was pitch black. Shadow was swallowing the world, as the awful hole in everything behind Malos grew, and grew, and grew. "Rex, stop," she screamed into the howling wind.
"DUTY, REX," called Malos, his voice seemingly coming from all around them. "DUTY CALLS."
Nia finally caught up to Rex, catching him by his arm. He turned around, and the look on his face tore her apart. How, she thought, how could the boy be so happy to walk to his death? "Don't go," was all she could think to say, miserably. "Don't go, please don't leave, please don't go-"
"I have to. It's my duty." Rex laughed, and oh, how could he laugh, how could he throw his life away so carelessly, didn't he realize how much it hurt? "It's all I'm good for. My life for the lives of others. More than a fair trade, yeah?" And how, how could he not have a trace of hesitation, how could he be so damn happy, how could death become him so beautifully, so nobly, so sweetly?
And with that, he pulled away from her. Nia struggled, tried to chase after him again, but the wind was now blowing against her too strongly, and he seemingly did not feel it at all. She watched with horror, pain coursing through her heart, as Rex walked to Malos, and without hesitation, they turned and disappeared into the hole, into the howling nothing behind them, and Nia knew it wasn't just a death, it was an awful death, Rex had died in unimaginable horror and pain when he entered the nothing, she just knew somehow, he was gone forever and had been taken in the most awful of ways, and oh, the sorrow that coursed through her, like a hot knife in her heart, it was too much to bear.
"Do you see?" Nia heard Pyra's voice in her ear, though she was nowhere nearby, as the girl sank to her knees in despair. "Do you see the pain these bonds can bring…?"
Nia wasn't listening. She couldn't think, all she could do was clutch her chest, her heart hammering inside her, and scream-
Nia woke with a start, startled, sitting up in her bed, gasping for breath. She felt the adrenaline still coursing through her veins, felt it beginning to drain out of her, leaving her feeling spent, worn out. It must have been one hell of a nightmare she had, to wake her up like this. She focused, trying to remember, but already the details of the dream were slipping from her mind. Trying to recall details was like trying to grab on to fog.
She glanced out the window. She had awoken later than she usually did. She was still in a bit of a funk from Akhos having attacked, about a week ago. She found herself sleeping later than she normally did pretty often.
She got out of bed, walking on unsteady legs to the small dresser the inn room came with. Across the top of it, she had placed a few little knickknacks that she had picked up so far on their little journey. The bear carvings Morag had given her, of course, plus some of her own attempts at making them. Some different colored ribbons she had picked up at the camp for tying back her hair. And...the rainbow-light crystal Rex had given her back in Gormott.
She picked it up, now, holding it up to the light, observing the colors dancing within, and then gripped it in her hand and smiled. For some reason, just holding on to this right now made her feel better.
21.
Brighid stalked carefully around the Dark Aegis, her swords at the ready, moving slowly towards his side. Her feet, her dress dragged a trail of bright blue flame behind her.
Malos followed her movements with mocking eyes and an arrogant smile, not bothering to turn, simply tracking her with his head. Brighid had come to learn that those penetrating gray eyes hid a cleverness for battle that was frankly intimidating. If there was one thing Malos had a natural talent for, it was dealing death. A competent and skilled swordsman, he was also adept at unconventional tactics. His pure physical strength was immense, and then there was the matter of the dark flame he could summon.
Brighid darted forward, blades singing through the air. Malos moved with a languid, lazy grace, like a drifting shadow, dodging out of the way, sticking out one foot in an attempt to trip Brighid. She leapt nimbly over it, and spun around to cross her blades in a guard against a blow from Malos' blade from behind. Her arms shook as the blow struck, and she nearly dropped her blades. Malos had swung with both hands, putting his full strength behind the blow. Careful to keep her balance, Brighid kicked out with her right leg, catching Malos in the gut.
He hissed and winced, bowing slightly, and Brighid took the opportunity to jump back and recover. Malos glanced up at her, annoyed. If the Aegis had one weakness, it was that he lost patience when battle didn't go his way. He stretched out one clawed gauntlet to her, and clenched it. Brighid was caught in the blast as a hole of dark flame tore itself open in the air next to her, then exploded outward.
She rolled onto her back, only to see Malos bearing down on her, stalking. He slammed his sword down, and Brighid only just managed to roll out of the way as it rent the earth where she had lain only moments before. Malos growled with frustration, bringing down a plated boot on the trailing edge of her dress, preventing her from rolling further. "End of the line," he smiled, his eyes flashing dark fire and cruelty and the promise of pain, black flame crawling up his arm as he swung his sword in a wide arc, wrenching it out of the ground, rocketing it towards her face-
Brighid only just managed to duck, and with a desperate shout, slid her blades into Malos' chest. He gasped, eyes widening, stunned, black flame dripping from his eyes.
Then he stepped back, and Brighid slid her blades out of his chest. "Yeah yeah, good job," he said, rolling his eyes.
"You could at least have some grace when being bested by your opponent," Brighid snapped at him.
"I'm all grace." He gave her a mocking, flourishing bow. "Congratulations. You've won a fight against me, for once."
Brighid slid her swords home into their sheaths by her hips. They had dueled a few times in the few weeks they had been together in the camp, and it was true, Malos usually did end up winning. She looked around the training grounds. It was relatively late, past the time when the mercenaries had retired to their tents. Morag stood there, smiling at her, and it gave her heart a small thrill to have Morag see her best the Aegis. Roc was there too, clapping softly. She and the bird-blade had struck up a bit of a friendship, and he was always impressed by her use of her unusual weaponry. "I do have to say, Malos. I really was expecting more out of the Aegis. My journal, at least, implies you were much more difficult to defeat."
"Yeah. Well." Malos touched one of his gauntlets to his cross-shaped core crystal, with a soft 'tink'. "I'm a bit damaged. It will take a while for me to fix myself."
"How did you get damaged, exactly?" Morag asked, suddenly.
"In my final battle with Mythra." Malos suddenly looked pensive, as if he was staring far off into the distance. "I...don't remember much."
"What do you remember?" Morag pressed, crossing her arms. "I'm curious."
Malos shot her an irritated glare. "What? Want more details so you can accuse me of killing your Emperor from twenty generations ago again?"
Morag was quiet for a moment, staring at him steadily, saying nothing. Since coming to know the Aegis, she had begun to wonder if he could really be blamed for the death of Hugo. If he was telling the truth, he hadn't been the one to drag Hugo into the war, and Morag had come to appreciate the ironclad sense of duty the Aegis had. But she had never told him any of this. Malos...just wasn't the sort of man you talked to about this sort of thing. "No, Malos," she said finally. "I'm just curious. What do you remember?"
Malos stared at her with those intense, gray eyes, face unreadable. "I remember….the battle," he said after a moment. "I remember..." he sighed, suddenly. "I could never describe it to you. Everything we did, everything that we...unleashed, even the least of it is greater than your grandest bombs. I remember the land screaming beneath us. I remember...destroying Mythra, down to her very core. I thought I had destroyed her completely. I remember..." his hand went to his core crystal again. "I remember her light lancing through me as she fell. I remember falling myself. And...the next thing I knew, I awoke inside a sunken ship, trapped and damaged. Whatever they had hooked me up to, it was suppressing my powers, and drove me into a sort of...hibernation. And that's it." He looked up, his eyes suddenly hollow, haunted. "I...I know you said that I did a lot of damage to Torna. I can believe that. But...Mor Ardain helped in the evacuation of Torna. I remember there was time to prepare before the battle, and the Ardainian Titan was nearby, and Hugo had ordered airships to help the people of Torna evacuate if need be. But I've been reading history books. I can't find any mention of what happened to the Tornan refugees."
"There's a kingdom...very isolationist, that claims some descendants from Torna. Tantal. A lot of people don't even know it exists." Morag replied. She was somewhat surprised by the pained expression on the Aegis' face. "But Ardainian records are...spotty. There's records of a large portion of the Ardainian refugee ships and escort forces simply going missing."
"What about the other people the Emperor was traveling with? Jin, Lora, Haze? Minoth? ...Addam?"
Morag shook her head. "We recovered Brighid and Aegaeon. As for what happened to the Emperor's companions...it was a chaotic time. After the battle, they disappeared from history. I'm...sorry."
Malos was looking down at the sword in his hands somewhat forlornly. He lifted his head, and gave a small grin. "Ah, well. Shouldn't expect to find out what happened to them after five centuries, right? Guess it's just the way things are." His sword disappeared in a flash of black flame, and he put his hands behind his head, stretching out. "Well, I think I'm done with dueling for the day. Why don't we go grab something to eat?"
As they walked the winding path back to the inn, Morag examined the Aegis' face closely. Whatever sadness had been there before, he was doing a good job of concealing it. She felt herself, not for the first time, feeling a bit sorry for him. To have everyone he had once known, gone and forgotten. To fulfill his duty, and then awaken in a world where everyone he might have fought for disappeared without ever knowing where they went. Morag knew on long missions away from home, it was thoughts of friends and loved ones that bought her comfort. What could it bring Malos, except sorrow and confusion? Although, who even knew if an Aegis felt such things? But Morag was slowly beginning to suspect that he did, as much as he might try to hide it.
As they walked back to the inn, they passed by Rex and Nia walking in the opposite direction, Rex carrying a fishing pole. The two had certainly been spending a lot of time together. Malos raised a hand in greeting. Rex smiled, and waved back, but Nia frowned at him, glaring, and looked away. Morag watched as Malos sighed, lowering his hand, and considered. "She likes bear carvings," she said quietly to Malos, once Nia and Rex were out of earshot.
Malos glanced down at her and raised an eyebrow. "Huh?"
"Nia." Morag reached into her pocket, and pulled out a small bear carving, handing it to Malos. The Aegis examined it closely. It was a carving of a bear wearing a Praetor's hat and robes with a goofy expression on its face. "She likes these. No, keep it. Maybe she'll warm up to you a bit if you give it to her."
Malos gave her an unreadable expression, then barked a harsh laugh. "Oh, I don't know about that. She's been getting awfully protective of Rex. I think as long as my power hurts him, I won't be on her list of favorite people." He looked back down at the carving in his hands. "Still. Might be worth a try. Thanks."
As Malos strolled off, Brighid appeared at her shoulder. "Honestly, why bother with him?" Morag could tell her own blade still had a distaste for Malos. The Aegis did enjoy tormenting her over her competitive nature.
Morag kept her eyes on the dark blade, watching carefully. "I think, perhaps, he's not that bad. He's...a soldier of sorts. Every soldier deserves a chance."
22.
"What do you say, Morag? C'mon. The top driver from Uraya, and the top driver from Mor Ardain. It would be a shame to not have a duel at least once." Vandham's eyes flashed at her as the large man grinned at the leering mercenaries encircling them.
Morag's face was grim. She and Brighid had been observing Vandham at the training grounds, as they usually had these past few weeks, directing his men, when one of the more boisterous Urayan mercenaries had loudly boasted that Vandham could best her in a fight. That had been the spark that had set off underlying tensions among the mercenaries in Vandham's camp. Vandham might say he was staying neutral, and he might accept all kinds, but the war had touched people here as well, clearly. Ardainian mercenaries shouted and shoved Urayans, clamoring over whose top driver could best the other. Morag had...hoped that Vandham would be wise enough not to inflame such tensions. But the mercenary commander had openly encouraged the competition among his men, and had been….far too enthusiastic. Morag didn't know what he was playing at. Certainly the man had to know this sort of contest would just make tensions in his camp even worse.
She cast her eyes around, beyond the leering mercenaries themselves. Rex and Nia were there, watching on with worried looks on their faces. Tora too, though he and Poppi seemed more excited to see the results of the battle than anything. Malos too, looked amused, leaning up against one of the cave walls, arms crossed, raising an eyebrow at her.
She sighed, unsheathing her blades, as Brighid moved into position behind her. "Very well," she said quietly. "If you really want to have this foolish battle, I'll show you why they call me the Empire's finest."
Vandham grinned, striding forward, throwing his arms out as Roc's wicked-looking scythes appeared in his hands in a flash of light, as the mercenaries surrounding them cheered and roared. "Right. First to tag the other wins." He looked up at her, his steely gaze meeting her own. "Well, let's go."
And then Vandham dashed forward and was on her in a flash, scythes whirling in a blur, sparks flying as they clashed against Morag's swords as she parried.
Morag winced as the blows rained down on her, from all sides, Vandham probing and testing her defenses. There was precious little she could call an advantage in this battle. Vandham was nearly as fast as she was, undoubtedly much stronger, and just as clever and disciplined from long years in battle as she. And Morag could not say that she was used to fighting against the scythes he used. They curved around her parries, hooked around behind her as Vandham wielded them with incredible skill, requiring much more focus and attention to dodge and parry than a more conventional weapon might.
She might have one advantage, though. Morag dashed backwards, out of the short range of Vandham's scythes, and before the man could close the gap between them, snapped her right wrist, so that her blade broke apart into a blade-whip. She lashed out at where Vandham stood, the blade connecting with the ground with a burst of blue flame as the large Urayan dashed out of the way in the nick of time. Morag smiled grimly. She probably couldn't stand up to Vandham forever in close combat, but the whip gave her the benefit of range. She dared not engage both her blades as whips, though. The whip gave her range, but was slow and unwieldy. If both her blades were whips, all it would take was Vandham sneaking past her lashes and closing the distance, and she'd be doomed.
Vandham stalked cautiously at the edge of her range, pacing around, testing for an opening. Morag lashed out whenever he came too close, the loud snaps and clashes of her whip echoing throughout the camp. The mercenaries surrounding them were no longer so loud or boisterous. They were leaning in, every one of them silent, intent on the fight.
Vandham dashed in suddenly, ducking beneath her whip strike. Morag hissed and dashed backwards, just out of the reach of his whirling scythes. The moment she did, she knew what Vandham's plan had been. She was now too close to the cave wall to effectively wield the whip. If she tried to get a good lash, it would bounce off the wall behind her before she could direct it.
Vandham pressed his attack, and Morag poured all her concentration into now parrying him with only one of her blades. It was a monumental effort of will, but she dared not even take the time to snapping her blade-whip back into a second blade again – it might well have been the only opening Vandham needed against her.
And, well – it wasn't entirely useless at short range. She let Vandham think it was, letting her right arm dangle as she parried. Sweat poured off her from the effort as she waited for just the right moment, the right instant in Vandham's wall of flowing steel that was his scythes, just the right precise opportunity – now.
With a shout, while there was a gap between blows, Morag bought her blade-whip up in a sweeping motion, tangling with one of Vandham's scythes. His eyes widened as the scythe was caught up, and he found himself unable to swing. With another swift movement, Morag drove home with her sword, past Vandham's ruined defenses, until it stopped a fraction of an inch from his neck.
"Tag," she said, smiling.
Vandham grinned at her, sweat pouring from his face. "Why don't you look to your left? Very, very carefully and slowly."
Morag glanced to her left, not moving her head. There, a hair's breadth from her eye, was one of the wicked hooks of Vandham's scythes, having darted in during the small opening she had left in her offense.
The crowd was absolutely silent. "Well," Vandham said, eyes flashing at her. "Looks like we're pretty well matched." Then with a flash of light, his blades disappeared from his hands, and he let out a boisterous laugh. "I gotta give it to you Morag! That was one hell of a duel."
"So who won?" cried someone from the crowd.
"Nobody," said Morag, looking at Vandham with a new appreciation. "That was the point," she said quietly to herself, as the big man clapped her on the back and beamed at the crowd of mercenaries. The man hadn't been intentionally inflaming tensions between Urayans and Ardainians. He had wanted to show them that in a fight between them, nobody would win.
"Now what do you say we go grab a drink, eh?" Vandham roared at the crowd. "After all. 'First have a punch-out, then drink to forget-"
"...Once you've forgotten, the friendship's all set!" Rex called out, finishing the saying for him. "Hah! Rule six of the salvager's code!"
"Excuse me?" Vandham said, eyeing him. "That's rule eight of the mercenary's code, kid. Are you telling me salvagers have been cribbing from our code?"
Morag watched as he led away the crowd of mercenaries, his men gathering around him, clapping him on the back, cheering at the prospect of drinks. She glanced over as Brighid stepped up to her side. "That looked….intense," he blade said. "For a man so large, you'd think he'd be a bit slower. What did you think?"
Morag looked after the retreating figure of Vandham. "I think he's the best I've ever faced," she said simply. And the next time, if things went poorly, she thought, they might have to face each other on the battlefield in earnest.
23.
Most nights, Malos' training with Rex consisted of dueling. But occasionally, perhaps once a week, Malos would ask the boy to meditate with him. This had been going on for about a month and a half now, and the sessions kept growing more and more intense.
Rex's feelings about these meditations were...ambiguous. He wanted to learn how to control Malos' power, he really did. But pushing himself to the edge of his tolerance for pain, so often…he had found himself dreading them, at times. He couldn't help it. And he felt like such a damn coward for fearing it. It was just a bit of pain, it was temporary, and Nia...Nia would watch, and always soothe the pain afterward. He was lucky to have met someone as good-hearted as her. But still, he had come to fear them a bit, and he would be lying if he said he wasn't ashamed of himself for it.
One warm night, as he sat down to meditate with Malos on the abandoned training grounds, he glanced over to where Nia usually sat to watch, perched on top a crate at the edge of the training grounds. She was there, of course. But Vandham stood by her side, arms crossed, watching intently. Rex...wasn't sure he wanted Vandham there. He looked up to the man, a lot, and he didn't want to see him failing, didn't want to disappoint the old mercenary with his weakness. Well, there was nothing for it then, really. He would just have to grin and bear the pain.
Vandham watched, silently, as Malos handed Rex his sword, and the boy closed his eyes. Moments later, black flame was flickering all over him. Occasionally, during the silent meditation, Rex would raise his arm, and something nearby – a rock, a bush – would vanish in a burst of dark flame. But most of the time was spent in still, perfect silence, the black flame crawling all over him.
He became aware of Nia fidgeting next to him. He glanced over at the girl. She was furrowing her brow, sighing in frustration. "You alright?" he growled at her, low, not wanting to wake Rex from his trance.
"I'm fine," Nia said, somewhat annoyed. She crossed her arms, wincing and looking away from Rex as the black flame crawling all over him burned higher and higher.
"Hey," Vandham said, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It's alright. I'm worried about him, too. It's why I'm here. Wanted to get a look at what it was Malos was doing with him."
"Burning him up. That's what he's doing. Rex, damn fool he is, goes right along with it."
Vandham raised an eyebrow. "That's the way he learns to control Malos' powers, isn't it? It's what he told me. Right?"
Nia looked up at the old mercenary with a glare, glanced at Rex, then looked back at Vandham, considering. She leaned in, conspiratorially, to get closer to Vandham's ear, speaking low. "He...pretends it doesn't hurt him as much as it does," she hissed. "But I can tell. Every time I heal him. Malos' power...isn't just a little bit of pain...cor, I can't describe it to you. I don't care if Rex says he's okay with it, he looks up to Malos so much, the stupid idiot would do anything to win his respect. You have to believe me, it-"
"Nia." Vandham interrupted her, gently. "I believe you."
"Please...don't tell him I told you this," she whispered. "He's doing it to help in the future, when he has to use the power, to make it easier on himself, but...I can't help it. I hate it. I hate it all the same."
"Nothing wrong with that," Vandham said, as he crossed his arms and watched the meditation continue. "You care about him a lot."
Nia stared up at the mercenary, then back at Rex, quietly, as if considering something.
Finally the meditation came to an end. Rex opened his eyes, gritting his teeth, and leaped nimbly to his feet. Vandham shook his head. He could tell the kid was in a lot of pain, and trying to cover it up. Malos rose up too, smoothly, quietly, as Nia went to Rex's side.
"Oh, hey, Nia," Rex said, his voice unsteady, as Nia reached out and gripped his arm. His eyes flicked to Vandham, and he gave a false grin. "I think I'm fine this time, don't need any healing, really. Really getting used to it, I think. Barely hurts at all anymore."
Nia held on to his arm, and the look she was giving him could melt rocks. "Oh, is that so," she snapped at him. "Mister tough guy, eh? Doesn't hurt at all, does it?"
"Ow. Ow, Nia, you're squeezing really hard-"
"Oh, come on now, Rex. Just a girl squeezing your arm a bit. Can't hurt that much, right? After all, all that black fire barely hurt at all, right? You lying bastard."
Vandham approached Malos as Rex and Nia disappeared into the night, the girl cursing the boy...quite creatively. He wondered if she was picking up some of that language from the mercs. Malos was dusting himself off from sitting on the packed dirt of the training ground. He glanced up inquisitively as the mercenary drew near.
"Malos." Vandham nodded. "So. How's the training going?"
Malos stood, stretching his back. "Good. The kid's got a real knack for it."
"Proud of him?"
Malos looked Vandham, somewhat surprised. "Yeah. I suppose you could say that."
Vandham folded his arms, cocking his head off into the night, where Nia and Rex's bickering could still be heard. "Suppose you know she really doesn't like it."
Malos barked a laugh. "Yeah. I'm aware. She can be a pain in the ass sometimes. But, well..." Malos smiled out at the darkness. "I'm kind of glad to have her around to look after the kid."
"Do you know...how bad it's hurting him?"
Malos cheerful demeanor fell, his face turning to stone. He glanced at Vandham, and there was not a trace of shame in his expression. "Yes. But everything I do to him, he asks for." And suddenly, he was glaring, face contorting with anger. "I don't hurt him because I like to, you know. It's how my power works."
Vandham held up his hands, somewhat apologetic. "Didn't mean to imply that." He considered for a moment, looking down at his hands, then glanced back up at the Aegis. "How do you...suppose Rex feels about you?"
"How he...feels?" Malos asked, somewhat puzzled. "I..." he paused, then looked away. "I have no idea," he said, somewhat evasively.
"If you didn't know," Vandham replied quietly, "He respects you. Looks up to you. Wants to impress you."
"That so." Malos said, flatly, no emotion in his voice, still not facing Vandham, instead staring off into the blank dark, arms crossed.
Vandham sighed. "Look. He may ask for everything you give him. And hell, he may be able to handle it, even. He's tough, and one hell of an extraordinary kid. But Malos, he's...young. Wants to prove himself. And he looks up to you. I'm just saying, just because he asks for something...use your own judgment, yeah? He's liable to push himself over the edge just to try to prove himself. And if he pushes himself too far with your power...well...I'm sure you know better than me what might happen. But I'm willing to wager it isn't anything good."
Malos glanced over his shoulder at Vandham. His face was hidden in shadow, his eyes gleaming in the darkness. "You're a soldier, Vandham. I assume you know the concept of duty."
"Malos-"
"You know of duty to...country, family, things like that." Malos turned his head, once more staring into the darkness. "As big as that may seem to you. Imagine if your duty was to something...larger. Imagine if you failed in your duty, it would be the end of everything." And suddenly, Malos seemed...tired. Worn down. "Imagine knowing that no matter how much you might want it to be different, literally nothing else mattered."
"What if it isn't like that?" Vandham asked quietly. "This...Mythra, you talk about...she's out there now, yeah? In fact, you don't even know how long she's been out there. But she hasn't been sinking Titans since the Aegis War."
Malos was quiet for a long time. "And so all the people who died," he said, finally, his voice thick with contempt, "All the people she murdered...all the faceless dead, entire families, cities, countries swallowed by her and her madness...they should go unanswered for?"
"That depends. Do you think revenge for ghosts is worth the life of one living boy who looks up to you and cares for you?"
Malos didn't answer. He stood, framed by the darkness, and for a moment it was as if the shadows all bent toward him, and Vandham almost imagined he could feel the blade's hatred, anger, dark as obsidian. Malos turned, and the shadows danced across him, he was black as void, a negative hole in the shape of a man. Then he shook his head, and the illusion was broken. He was merely Malos again. "Revenge is worth my life, maybe," he mused. "But...no. I wouldn't ask Rex to die to avenge my failures."
Vandham, whose hands had almost gone to his blades while the shadow danced with Malos, eyed him warily. "You mean that? You aren't going to ask Rex to die?"
"I said I wouldn't ask him to die for revenge. I can't promise there won't be a nobler cause."
Vandham felt his anger rising, staring at the dark Aegis. "You're his blade. Protecting him is supposed to be your job, not giving him a good way to die."
"I'm glad to protect him. But he knows what duty is. He swore an oath to me. There are some things worth dying for. Who am I to deny him that?" Malos shrugged, spreading his arms. "I won't abuse his oath. If that's what you're really worried about." His eyes gleamed with a quick, cruel cleverness. "Though...I don't think that's all, is it? Taking after Nia, are we? Getting a bit protective of Rex?"
Vandham's eyes widened, and he felt the anger surging in him. Age gave him the wisdom to tamp down, bite back on that anger, however. It was true, after all. The time he had spent training the boy, talking to him, watching him grow...he had quickly grown attached to him. Rex had an upbeat spirit, a flame of hope in him that was...honestly inspiring to witness. And an endless potential. With the right training, Rex could be the sort of driver the world hadn't seen for centuries. But, as protective as he wanted to be, he had to remind himself that Rex wasn't a helpless child. He was blossoming into a young man, and...the reality of the world was, plenty of other young men, not much older than Rex, were confronting the idea of death. It was up to each man to decide which things were worth dying for, and as foolish as some of their choices might be, Vandham wouldn't take that away from them. Wouldn't take that way from Rex. But still…
"It must be lonely," Vandham said suddenly. "Living the way you do."
Malos looked up at him in shock, suddenly at a loss for words. For a moment, he didn't look like the Aegis, didn't look like the shadow. For a moment, all cruelty drained out of him, and he was just a man. It passed, fleeting. His eyes became hard and clever again. But now there was no smile on his face.
"I'm the Aegis," he said simply. "It is what it is."
And with that, he walked away from Vandham, melting into the darkness, the shadow embracing him.
24.
Vandham glanced over his shoulder after negotiating with a band of traveling merchants to allow them to set up a stall in Garfont, only to see Poppi perched upon a crate, staring at him yet again.
Vandham wouldn't say he was exactly an expert on technology, but he had been extremely impressed by Tora's artificial blade. She was stronger than any man – probably nearly as strong as Malos himself, who had a supernatural strength. But for the past few weeks, he had noticed the little robot following him around and staring at him more and more often, her glowing orange eyes following him everywhere. When he went to train the men, she'd crouch nearby, hands on her knees, staring. When he retired to drink, there she'd be at the end of the bar, staring. It was beginning to make him a little nervous.
Later that day, he went to the inn to have an early lunch. Everyone else was still at training – he had asked Morag to take a crack at training the men today. They had come to respect her a lot since his duel with her. He thought he was alone as he sat down at a table. With a satisfied sigh, he closed his eyes, about to take a bite of his sandwich. When suddenly, from across the table, there came a loud CLUNK. Vandham froze, lowering his sandwich and opening his eyes. There, across the table, was Poppi, her elbows up on the table, head resting her hands, staring up at him with an intense, glowing gaze.
"Uh...hello Poppi," Vandham said nervously.
Poppi was silent, her gaze flicking up and down, as if examining Vandham.
Vandham laughed nervously, glancing around to see if there was anyone else nearby. Suddenly he felt a colt, metallic hand on his arm. Poppi had reached out across the table to grasp him. She looked up at him. "Oh Vandham," she said cheerfully, "Poppi thinks you are very beautiful."
"Uhhhhhhhhh," Vandham began looking around even more intently, desperate to find someone else closeby. It was no use. She had cornered him.
"Poppi has to protect Masterpon," Poppi continued. "Poppi estimates that if her appearance was more intimidating, she could protect with 87% increased efficiency through demoralization of enemies. But..." Poppi gestured down at herself. "Poppi is too cute. Poppi is, in fact, the cutest. Poppi does not understand why Masterpon did not design her with intimidation in mind. But Vandham..." here, she looked back up at the large man and sighed longingly. "Vandham very intimidating. Poppi see many tough men afraid of Vandham."
"Oh," Vandham said, relaxing. "You mean I'm scary."
"Scary. Beautiful. Yes," Poppi chirped. "Will Vandham teach Poppi the secrets of making enemies fear her? Poppi has been analyzing Vandham for some time now, but is not sure she has unlocked all the secrets of fear."
Vandham scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Well, I don't try to be scary. But here. First step, you gotta have a mean look." He pointed to his face, contorting it into a snarl. "Like this, see. Let's see it."
Poppi narrowed her eyes and frowned. "Like this?"
Vandham shook his head. It hadn't done much. She looked angry, but was still too damn cute. "It's a start," he said hopefully. "Here. Let's go talk to your masterpon and see if he can't do something for you."
They found Tora out behind the inn, painting a large wooden plank leaning up against the wall, splattering yellow paint everywhere. His jeans were covered in yellow paint as well, and he had what looked looked like stencils of a few letters lying around. "Oh! Vandham, Poppi!" Tora called, as they approached. "Tora is just working on little side project." He flipped his goggles off his eyes, leaving yellow rings in his fur from the spattered paint.
Vandham nudged Poppi, nodding. Poppi stepped forward, putting her hands on her hips. "Masterpon, Poppi would like to be scarier! Like Vandham!"
"Eh? Scarier?" Tora scratched his head with one of his wings. "What Poppi mean?"
"Poppi..." the little robot looked over to Vandham, looking him up and down. "Poppi wants to be big and huge, like Vandham! With big, bulging muscles! This is what makes him scary!"
Vandham folded his arms and laughed while Tora bounced around in confusion. "Meh? But Tora would have to build Poppi whole new chassis. One that big require so many materials. And if Tora make Poppi so huge, Poppi not be very cute anymore."
Poppi paused, considering. "Well. Poppi not sure of the combat applications of cuteness, but Poppi does enjoy being the cutest. Is there way to be cute and scary at the same time?"
"Could ask Nia," Tora said cheerfully. "She does good job at that."
But Poppi was already looking back at Vandham, considering. "What make Vandham scary besides mean look and size," she murmured.
"Well, lots of people say they think my scars are pretty scary," Vandham offered.
Poppi snapped her fingers. "Of course! Scars indicate participation in many battles and tolerance for pain. Enemies sure to fear Poppi if she has some scars." She pointed a finger to the x-shaped scar crossing Vandham's face. "Poppi wants one like that!" She raised a hand, and suddenly a blade flicked out from one of her fingers. "Here Poppi goes!" she cried, aiming it at her face.
"Whoa whoa whoa," Vandham roared, grabbing her hand. "Not like that!"
"Poppi!" Tora cried. "Don't cut your face. You are robot, not human! All that happen if Poppi cuts her face is that Tora has to make repairs. No scars happen. Besides even if scars happen, cutting open your own face….not the way to do it!"
Poppi sighed, sulking, as the blade flicked back into her hand. "Poppi never be scary," she said mournfully.
"Now hold on, that's not true," Vandham said. He cast his eyes around, spotting a bucket of red paint. He plucked it up, along with a small brush. "Lots of men, 'specially the Gormotti ones, they like to have a little bit of warpaint. Says it makes them scarier in battle." He dabbed the paintbrush into the bucket. "Now, hold still, and close your eyes." Poppi did as she was told, leaning forward slightly, and Vandham painted a red 'X' across her face, in the shape of his scar. "Now, don't touch that, it's gotta dry a bit," he said, as Poppi opened her eyes.
"Masterpon!" Poppi whirled around, scowling at Tora. "Is Poppi scary? Will enemies shake in fear?"
Tora crossed his arms, or at least came as close to it as a nopon possible could, anyway. "Hmm. Difficult to say...we will need to run some tests, compare baseline enemy engagement rates to post-warpaint rates...control for party members….you know what masterpon say, Poppi. Measure a billion times, modify once."
"Well, I think you're looking plenty scary," Vandham said.
Poppi smiled up at him, then blinked curiously. "Vandham. How...you get that scar?"
Vandham's fingers went up to his face, to trace the x-shaped scar gently. "Ah. This one? An old...friend, gave it to me, I guess you could say." He smiled sadly at the memory.
Poppi and Tora gasped. "Friend gives you nasty scar?" Tora said, wonderingly.
"This...very sad." Poppi looked down, embarrassed. "Poppi...sorry."
Vandham put his hands on his hips and barked a laugh. "Hah! Don't worry about it. I haven't thought about them in years. Past is what it is. Besides, they did give me this scar that makes me much scarier, right? It all worked out in the end. C'mon, Poppi. Let's go test out this warpaint on some of the mercs. I bet we can get a few of them shaking in their boots."
25.
Nia came into the inn late one night, long after everyone still in the camp had gone to sleep. Rex and Vandham had taken off yesterday to go check on Gramps, still stuck back at the cove where they had crashed. With Vandham's knowledge of Uraya's byzantine cave system, the trip was much shorter than the week-long trek they had originally made to Garfont village, though they would still probably be gone a couple of days. Nia had gone with them on previous trips, but wanted to stay behind this time. She had a little project she was working on with Tora, and wanted to be able to surprise Rex with it.
She had been out in the fields surrounding the village, laying on her back, staring up at the faintly glowing fungus on the cavern walls, her mind filled with thoughts of Jin, Pyra, and Torna. Knowing that Jin had wanted her dead still tore her up inside. But...over these past couple of months, she had become...happier, for lack of a better word, with her current situation. She had come to realize that she had new friends. Morag worried for her, she knew, and while that annoyed her to some extent, it felt nice to know that someone cared for her like that. Tora and Poppi looked up to her. And Rex...Rex was fun to tease, and...he could always make her smile.
The only problem was her secret. Torna had known she was a Flesh Eater. Her new friends didn't. And she had seen enough friendly faces turn ugly with hatred and contempt, once they had discovered who she was. And…
And that's not your only secret, the voice inside her said. They think you're a good person. You know you aren't. You can't keep up this charade forever.
Nia shook her head as she walked into the inn. She glanced around the foyer, and then her eyes opened in surprise. It was empty, but there, on a coffee table, was a small bear carving. She rushed over. It was a goofy-looking bear wearing a Praetor's hat and looking confused, clearly meant to poke fun at Indol. "Oh ho ho, this is perfect," she said to herself, appreciating the craftsmanship. "Whose-"
"Hello, Nia."
Nia yelped and jumped backwards as Malos walked forward from the shadows cloaking the foyer, smirking at her. She could have sworn the room was empty. It was just like the damn Aegis, to scare the daylights out of her. He raised an eyebrow at her, then glanced at the bear carving. "I see you've found...my bear carving."
"This is yours?" she said, still angry. "Where'd you get it?" She crossed her arms. "Why aren't you out with Rex?"
"I'm his blade, not his mother. He can take a trip without me. You like these things?" Malos picked up the carving, toying with it idly. "Want to play for it?"
"No than-" Nia stopped as she saw Malos pull out a board game from a nearby shelf. "Wait. Is that Sneak-Thief King?"
Malos glanced down at her. "Yeah. It's my favorite. You ever played it?"
"Have I played it? It's my favorite, too." Nia bit her lip. Malos...she still had a lot of anger for him, for the way he treated Rex. And a lot of fear, for the cruelty in his face, the darkness in his eyes, and the way he had seen right through her, spotted her secret right away. He was the one person in her new group of friends that kept her from feeling at home. But...she did really want that carving. And Sneak-Thief King was her favorite, and she was damn good at it. "Fine. I'll play you for it. And what if I lose?"
"If you lose?" Malos' eyes widened, as if he hadn't really considered that. "Hm." And then a smile spread across his face. "If you lose, I get to come along with you and Rex when you guys go get your dinner from your little bet. And you have to buy me whatever I want."
Nia blanched. She had been looking forward to that dinner, and didn't want Malos coming along. If she was being honest with herself, she didn't want anyone coming along. She had...sort of been excited about spending some time alone with Rex. But she was really good at Sneak-Thief King, and she was pretty sure she could beat Malos. "Fine," she snapped, snatching the board game from him. "But I get to play thieves. And we play Gormotti rules."
She opened the board on the coffee table as Malos took a seat across from her, and expertly set up the board. Sneak-Thief King was a board game for two players. One player was 'Thieves' and the other was 'Guards', and the board had a stylized castle drawn onto it. 'Thieves' had only five tokens, representing the 'Thief' team, including the 'Sneak-Thief King'. Each member of the thief team had different abilities, and they were played face-down, so that Malos didn't know which thief was which – though he could figure it out over the course of play when Nia used their abilities. Malos, on his side, had control of the guards, represented by many, many more tokens than thieves, and the guards were played face-up. There were different guard tokens, which countered different members of the team, and the challenge for the defender was to get the right guard in the right place to corner the right sneak-thief. The goal for the Thief team was to move the Sneak-Thief King into the throne room, where he, and only he, could steal the crown from the King, and the goal for the guard team was to imprison all the thieves. Thieves could break out of prison, but after being caught three times, they were "executed" and removed from the game. The game ended if the Sneak-Thief King himself was killed, or if the crown was stolen.
They began their game in silence, and Nia quickly had to admit it sure seemed like Malos knew what he was doing. He made quick, smart moves. She sighed as her first thief was put into prison.
"So," Malos said, as she considered her options during her turn, "You've been spending a lot of time with Rex."
"Don't try to distract me!" She leaned forward and made her move, tokens clacking against the board. "Yeah? So what?"
Malos shrugged. "Hey. He's my driver. Normal for me to keep an eye on the people's he's getting close to."
"He's a friendly guy. Gets close to everyone."
Malos rolled his eyes, and with a sweep of his hand, sent another of Nia's thieves to prison. "Come on now. He clearly gets on more with you."
Nia fidgeted in her seat, her ears flat against her head as she glared up at Malos. Then she sighed. "Yeah. Well, he's the only other person my age around the camp, everyone else is some weird old mercenary. I-"
Malos gave a dry laugh, waving his hand dismissively. "Fine, if you want to be like that."
Silence fell between them for the next few turns, the only sound being the clack of tokens against the board as they made their moves.
"I don't enjoy hurting him, you know," Malos said suddenly. Nia looked up at the Aegis. His face was fixed intently on the board. "I don't do it because I don't care, and if I could share my power without hurting him, I would. And he's the one who draws upon it, who wants to learn how to use it."
Nia knew this. She knew it was Rex who was calling upon the power. And she had some anger in her heart for him for that, it was true. Rex...scared her, in some ways, with how far he was willing to push himself. But it was also true that she had pushed a lot of her anger on the situation onto Malos. She had….not had the best first impression of him. She had assumed that he viewed Rex as little more than a tool. But watching them train, seeing Malos carefully test Rex's limits...she had come to realize this wasn't really the case. Malos wanted Rex to be effective, he wasn't just idly burning him up to be discarded. And...she had seen the concern in Malos' face, sometimes, after they had finished training. Maybe he just wanted Rex to be as useful a tool as possible. But...maybe, in his own way...he did care.
But still. It was hard to get over her inherent disgust for his power. And he was still holding her secret over her head. But perhaps he wasn't the devil she had first thought he was. Though she knew, someone didn't have to be a devil to hurt you more than anything in the world. "Yeah, well. You do it all the same. But if it can't be helped, it can't be helped." She made a move.
"Whoa whoa. Hold on. What's this bullshit," Malos snapped, looking at the board.
She gave him a sly smile. "I told you, Gormotti rules."
"This isn't any Gormotti rule I ever heard of. You can't just teleport-"
"Yes you can. That's Gormotti rules. Don't you touch it! It's a legal move!"
"What kind of crap have the Gormotti added to this game the past five centuries? I'm getting the rulebook-"
They bickered over the rules for the next few hours. Lucky for Nia, the rulebook that came with the game actually did have a description of Gormotti rules, so Malos grumpily conceded the moves to her. His competitive spirit kicked in, and so did hers, and they taunted each other over the moves they were making, and Nia eventually found herself laughing and enjoying herself. Malos was a smart opponent, and that cruelty that she had feared in him for a long time now...she could see now how much of it was sarcasm and a sharp tongue. They battled back and forth, the outcome of the game seeming to swing one way and then another.
But eventually, Malos cornered her sneak-thief King, and with a flourish, delivered the final blow. "I win," he smirked. "Get out of here with that Gormotti rule nonsense. Hah!"
Nia sat back in her chair, sullen, angry with herself. "Yeah, yeah. Guess I owe you a dinner, then," she huffed. She couldn't believe she had lost. Now he was going to come along with Rex and her to dinner.
"Don't worry about it," Malos said, rising from his chair. "Loser cleans up the board, though."
"Huh?" Nia said, looking up at him. "Seriously?"
"Yeah. I won't insist on coming along. You kids just have fun on your date," he said, giving her a teasing smile.
"It's just some bloody dinner!" Nia snapped at him. "That's all. Sheesh." But she felt a real sense of relief wash through her.
Malos rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah. Sure." He waggled the bear carving at her. "You actually want this, though, you're going to have to win it from me legit. Goodnight, Nia."
Nia's eyes tracked the Aegis as he wandered off to his room, swallowed by the shadow. She sighed, and began putting away the board game. "Goodnight, Malos," she said softly to herself.
26.
Rex panted, sweat pouring from him, as he stepped back from the training grounds for a moment. He had been training with Vandham for months now, and he could tell himself that he had really improved in his swordsmanship. He could duel adequately with mercenaries much older than himself now, and even beat them a good portion of the time. Vandham kept telling him that he had great potential. He tried not to let it go to his head, but it was hard not to smile at how proud the big mercenary was of him. Still, Vandham was better than him by a long shot. He was still nowhere close to landing a blow on the big man himself.
He glanced over at the village as he gulped down some water. He spotted Nia, approaching him with a malicious twinkle in her eye. What was she up to, he wondered?
She walked up to him, her ears flicking excitedly. She hummed to herself happily, swaying her hips in a little dance, and she held in her hands a crown deftly woven from bunches of flowers, white, blue and pale pink. "Oh, hello, Rex," she said, her voice dripping false sweetness, as she stood on her toes and placed the crown on his head. She stepped back, admiring her handiwork. "Yeah, looks good on you."
"Alright." Rex folded his arms. "So what do these flowers mean?"
"Ohhhhh, why don't you tell me," Nia said, laughing, handing him the flower guidebook.
Rex sighed as he plucked the flower crown from his head and leafed through the book. "Alright...so...this one means….'loser'." He glanced up at her, rolling his eyes. "Oh, cute, thanks. And...this one….also means 'loser'...and….so does….this one….they all mean 'loser', don't they?"
"Yeah! That's why it suits you so well!" she grinned, putting the crown back on the top of his head. "Because guess what, Rex? I win!"
"Wh-you sold one of your carvings? No way! They still look like nonsense!" Rex snapped, shoving the book back at her. "I don't believe it. I call shenanigans!"
"Oh, poor naive Rex." She grabbed his hand, grinning viciously at him. "Come with me."
She dragged him, laughing, over towards the area of the village where merchants typically set up stands. A crowd of roughly a dozen mercenaries stood crowded around one particular stand. As they drew closer, Rex could see a large, bright yellow sign, decorated with a crude painting of a cat face and a nopon face, and bold purple lettering, that read "Nia's Astounding Abstract Art! Sponsored by Tora." Poppi danced in front of the stand, handing out fliers, while Tora sat behind the counter, bouncing happily. Lined up on the top of the counter were a few of Nia's grotesque carvings. Tora was in the midst of negotiating a price with the latest customer.
A few of the mercenaries that had already paid for a carving stood around, holding them up to the light, examining them. "Oh yes, very interesting," one of them said, nodding sagely. "I love how it changes, amorphous, depending on how you look at it."
"Depending on what angle you view it from, it looks completely different, and never quite solid, never quite clear what it actually is," replied another mercenary. "It's a commentary on the impermanence of identity, on how the same person can look the same depending on who is doing the looking." The crowd of mercenaries surrounding him nodded and muttered in agreement.
"Tora, what is all this nonsense?!" Rex cried, as Nia dragged him up to the front of the stand and stood beaming victoriously at him, arms crossed.
Tora ignored him. "Oh! Hello Nia. Business going very good today, yes. Here is Nia's cut." He handed Nia a large bag of gold while Rex stood by, gaping.
Nia held the bag up to her ear and shook it, smiling at the clinking sound of coin withing. "Ahh, now that's a lovely sound. Don't you think?"
Tora turned to Rex, grinning. "Nia approach Tora with business proposition. Said she would supply Tora with works of art and Tora could take half the profit from selling. Tora skeptical at first. Nia's carvings, ah...unusual. But nothing a little nopon marketing cannot fix!"
Rex threw his hands up, as a mercenary purchased the last carving on the table, handing over a jaw-dropping amount of coin for it. "But this...I can't believe it."
"Oh I dunno, Rex. This seems pretty real," Nia said, hefting up the bag of coin. She opened it, tilting it slowly onto the table. "Hey. Check it out. Oh-oh man. Wow, look at all that gold. Oh...Oh…wow, it just doesn't end, does it? Hey, do you think you ever made this much from a salvage? Wow, it's not even half-empty yet-"
Rex stopped Nia's taunting, jabbing a finger at her. "Hey. You haven't won yet. Our original agreement was that you'd sell a carving of a bear, not a carving of…. 'abstract art', or whatever that is," he snapped, gesturing around.
"A bear?" said one of the mercenaries standing around, and Rex slapped a hand to his face in frustration. "Oh...yes, I think I can see a bear, if I turn it just right...a commentary, perhaps, on the eternal savagery of nature?"
"That's the beauty of abstract art, Rex," Nia laughed. Rex glared at her. She was enjoying this way too much. But, well...it was nice to see her so happy. She had been a bit depressed ever since Akhos had attacked them. She had denied that it had meant anything to her, but Rex could tell sometimes, when he looked at her, seeing the distant sadness in her eyes. Now, though, she was laughing, smiling, a slight blush in her cheeks. She was awfully pretty when she laughed, even if she was taunting him. "It can be whatever you want it to be. I got the idea from you, after all! You ready to concede?"
"Fine. Fine, you win. I'll buy you something from the inn-"
"Ohhhhh no you don't. I said from a restaurant, remember? And it's going to be a fancy one too." She laughed delightedly, jabbing a finger at his chest. "Don't you worry. I'll let you know when I find a place suitably expensive."
Rex winced. "Fine," he muttered. "Fine!"
"Now say, 'Nia destroyed me via the medium of bear carvings.'"
"Oh, you are such a graceful winner, aren't you. Really know how to accept victory with humility." Rex crossed his arms and glared at her. But then a smile slowly crept across his face. "It's a date, then."
He had expected her to respond to his teasing with anger. But instead she just smiled mischievously at him, grabbing his hands, staring up at him with twinkling eyes. "Oh, I'm looking forward to it," she replied softly.
She laughed as he jumped backwards, suddenly embarrassed. The boy was really too much fun to mess with. "W-well, I should get back to training," he said, rubbing the back of his head, averting his eyes. He rushed back to the training grounds, and Nia smiled. He still had her flower crown on, forgetting it was there. She sat down on the stand, kicking her legs happily, humming to herself.
Poppi stood by her side. She had watched the whole exchange with curious eyes, unfamiliar with these strange human conventions. All she knew was that Nia seemed as happy as she had ever seen her. "Nia...is going on a date with Rex?" she asked curiously.
Nia glanced over at her, laughing. "Oh, it's not really a date. I was just teasing him."
"But...Rex said it was a date."
"Oh, that was just him trying to tease me. I got his number, though."
Poppi was quiet, considering this for a moment. "Poppi has unresolvable logical errors," she said presently. "Poppi can't tell how this is not a date."
"Hey, don't overthink it, yeah?" Nia said, patting the robot's shoulder. "You'll cross a wire or something." She got up, stretching. "I gotta go ask Vandham where we might find a good place to eat."
Poppi watched the Gormotti girl walk off, still humming happily to herself. "Masterpon," she asked, "Are all human relationships this strange?"
"No, Poppi. Is just Rex-Rex and Nia." Tora rolled his eyes, counting out his coin. "Please do not alter internal variables on their count. They are outliers." He laughed to himself. "Maybe mostly Nia."
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