1.
Jin stood at the edge of a cliff, wind whipping through his hair, face impassive behind his mask. The drop was a sheer five hundred feet, down in to the jagged rocks of a lake below. The roar of a gigantic waterfall to his right drowned out his thoughts. He stood just out of the range of the splash from the falling water. He looked with hollow eyes out across the green fields rolling off into the distance. There, just at the edge of the horizon, was Torigoth, smoke curling from a few of its chimneys.
He glanced behind him. There, sitting on the top of a large boulder, staring off into the sky, was Mythra.
Ever since she had emerged, there had been no sign of Pyra. It still seemed...strange, to Jin. It had been strange enough when she was Pyra, true. How he had come to care for a...version of the person who had helped destroy Torna. But it was even stranger now that Pyra had become Mythra. He closed his eyes. He could still remember when this angelic figure had, with joy in her heart, summoned death from the sky, ripping Torna apart, murdering thousands…
And yet...even though what had been taken from him remained a cold knot in his heart, the fury that drove him...he had found that he had no lingering anger in his heart for Mythra. Whoever she had been….Pyra was also a part of her now. Oh, there were differences, to be sure. Where Pyra was cooler, more collected, more….disciplined, Mythra was full of passion and fire. And tormented. Jin often found her staring off into space, anguish written on her face. The sickness of this world, the world that her father had created, had more of an effect on her than it did on Pyra. She could feel it, in some fundamental way, feel the suffering of the world, and merely existing was painful for her. But Pyra was still part of her, all the same. They shared memories, believed the same things...and he could tell by the way she looked at him, felt the same things, as well. And Pyra had spent so long caring for him, at his lowest point, for him to be able to feel anger at someone she was a part of.
Sighing, he turned back to gaze ruefully at Torigoth. They had come here on a mission – to destroy a capital ship of the Ardainian Empire. It was part of their mission – to weaken the Ardainians so that they'd be more willing to accept peace with Uraya. They had been busy infiltrating military ports of the Empire while their battlecruisers were docked, destroying them from within. Mythra could, if she wanted, raze the ports themselves to the ground. But she insisted on trying to minimize casualties as much as possible – though she was certainly more flexible on the matter than Pyra was. But as many as they were able to take down, it simply wasn't enough – Mor Ardain's industrial capacity was more than they could keep up with, and its standing fleets simply too large. They had sent Patroka and Mikhail to sabotage an artificial blade factory within the Empire itself, while they came here to Gormott to destroy one of their most important capital ships. But when they had arrived, the ship was already gone, already on its way back to Mor Ardain.
He could feel Mythra's frustration. She desperately wanted to stop the war, but Mor Ardain...Jin had , honestly, never given much thought to the Empire. His thoughts were occupied mostly by other nations, dead ones, and the ones who responsible for the disaster deep in his past. But Mor Ardain truly was something else. Mor Ardain was a demonstration of the strength of the mortal world. Other countries simply didn't compare, except for perhaps Indol, and Jin had always considered Indol a product of the wicked genius of Amalthus. But Mor Ardain was a nation of mortals, no mythic devil from the depths of time to lead them. And yet the Empire seemed….inexorable. Unconquerable. Shrugging off the loss of huge cruisers, its endless factories spewing forth more in a month's time. Nothing they had yet done was coming close to stopping the war. The Empire had truly earned its nickname. Jin was one of the most powerful blades in existence, and he had the Aegis by his side. And yet even they felt helpless before it. It could not even be said that they owed their success to the exploitation of blades in combat, not truly: It was their infernal machines, their tanks, their cruisers and bombs, that purchased them their superiority in combat.
He understood Mythra's desire to end the war. She wanted as little suffering as possible on their way to their goal. But he couldn't help but feel that it was a distraction from their true mission. They still needed Malos to open their way to the world tree. It was not merely that the great serpent Ophion was a problem – though it was, as an Artifice forged by the Architect himself, Mythra had said that even with her Titan-shattering capabilities, all of them together would unlikely be able to defeat Ophion. It bought a chill to Jin's heart to think of that, sometimes. He knew Mythra had controlled Ophion, back during the Aegis war, before she awoke to find it no longer under her control after her defeat. If what she could do without Ophion could crack Titans, what exactly was Ophion itself capable of? What kind of creator was the Architect, to forge such monstrosities?
It was also the fact that to open the path to the World Tree beyond, both Aegis were necessary. The Architect had...shut himself off from the world, in some way Jin did not fully understand. It would take both Malos and Mythra to make their way into his reclusion. Malos had proven wilier and more difficult to capture than they had anticipated. Jin still didn't think much of his driver – still felt sorry for Rex, if he was being honest. Rex was just a poor kid with big dreams dragged into Malos' war. He...almost reminded Jin of Lora, a bit. He had the same light, the same sweet hope within him that Lora had had. Naive, beautiful Lora, who had volunteered to fight with Malos in the Aegis war out of the goodness of her heart. Whose grandest dream had been to build a home and live a long life with Jin, helping as many as they could along the way. Yes...Rex was like her, in many ways. And that was what the world did to people like Rex and Lora. That's what Malos did. Dragged them into wars they were doomed to die in. Robbed them of their light, forever. In many ways, he couldn't even blame Nia for wanting to remain at his side. People like Rex and Lora, they...made you believe the world could be beautiful. And then they left you broken forever when the Architect's cruel design crushed them.
Nia...Jin could tell, the last time they battled. The way she had cried out Rex's name, the way she had rushed to his side, the way her eyes had shot open with fear whenever Jin's blade had strayed close to him….Jin was nothing if not observant. She cared deeply for the boy. And...there was a small part of Jin that was….happy for her, in a way. A small part of him that looked on her, and hoped that she got all the joy from being with Rex that he had gotten from being with Lora. Even if he knew it was all doomed to end in tragedy that would completely break her heart. Whatever pain the Architect had, in his cruelty, made an inevitable part of the beauty of the world...sometimes the beauty could still be worth it. After all...there were points when he wished he had never known Lora, so he didn't have to live with the grief of her loss all the time. But most of the time...despite all the pain and horror that came later...he would have never traded the years he had with her for anything.
Jin realized with a start that he really, really didn't want to have to hurt Rex. He didn't want to be the one inflicting on Nia the same kind of pain that had been inflicted on him when Lora had been torn from him. In some ways, he wanted nothing but happiness for them.
Damned Malos. Malos had...broken his heart almost as much as Lora had. In a different way, of course. His was the pain of betrayal, not the rage and grief of loss. During the Aegis War, he and Malos had been...out of anyone, Malos had probably gotten on best with Jin. And Jin had admired the Aegis' sense of duty, and his grim gallows humor had been one of the few things that could make him chuckle. His bond with Lora was always the most important thing to him...but with Malos...in the time he had known him...he had thought he had made a friend. A brother, of sorts.
And then the day Malos and Mythra had battled, and their...god-like machines had ripped gigantic holes in Torna….and Malos had come plummeting to earth, topping out of his machine. He was damaged, Jin could tell – his form flickering in and out of existence. But before he had retreated to his core, he had turned to them all, arms spread wide – a triumphant, gleeful grin on his face. If it had merely been for duty's sake….Jin could have understood. But he understood, in that moment, as Malos smiled while Torna burned and died beneath the wounds he had inflicted...Malos had enjoyed himself. He had enjoyed the destruction he had wrought, enjoyed the doom he had brought crashing down from the sky. In that moment, he had understood they were all dust before Malos' damned duty. If he thought it was necessary, he would have killed them all, and he would have done it with a smile on his face. And the realization had been like a knife in Jin's heart. He had cared for Malos, but the man had never been his friend, never been his brother. Malos wasn't made for that. Malos was made for death. And nothing else. And now, here he was again, dragging poor Rex, poor Nia, along into his battle...perhaps they even thought he cared, as Jin had, once. He wondered if they would feel the same way he had, the day Malos inevitably revealed he'd be willing to crush them if he thought it necessary.
He sighed once more, turning back to Mythra. Unfortunately, they had had Akhos drop them off in the Monoceros in one of the more isolated areas of Gormott, and the scheduled rendezvous was not for another few days. Another few days of them being unable to do anything to stop the impending war. It...couldn't go on like this. They were probably going to have to take more...drastic action.
"What should we do…?" Mythra asked, quietly, as Jin approached her. Her face remained fixed on the sky, dark bags beneath her eyes. "So much time, wasted..." She shuddered, putting her hands to her face. "It's….it's still coming, Jin. We're failing. This war. What should we do…?"
"We can steal a Titan ship docked in Torigoth to get back quicker," Jin began, but suddenly his ears picked up a small, suspicious sound. Mythra heard it as well. They both whipped their heads around.
Behind them, carved into the rock of Torigoth's mountains, was a small, dark cave, its depths hidden in shadow. But there was no mistaking it – it was a very human sound emanating from the cave, not wildlife. Small, quiet murmurs, speech.
Jin's hand went to his blade, popping from its sheath with his thumb. Mythra leapt down from the boulder, raising a hand, a small orb of light flying from her outstretched palm into the cave, lighting it up.
And as they approached, there, in the depths of the cave, hiding in the scant few shadows that Mythra's light did not penetrate, was a group of five Gormotti children, their faces dirty, their clothes ragged. They looked at the two with fearful eyes as they approached, and one fierce boy stepped forward, a snarled mane of tangled reddish-brown hair framing his dirty face, flashing green eyes staring at them defiantly. "You...stay away from them," he snapped, his voice trembling, as he spread his arms out to protect his friends.
Jin looked at him, bemused, sliding his blade back home into its sheath. "Calm down, boy. We have no intention of hurting you or your friends."
The boy still looked uncertain, standing protectively in front of his friends. His eyes widened as Mythra approached him, crouching down to talk to him face to face. "What's going on, here? Are you and your friends lost?" she asked, her voice gentle.
The boy blushed. "Um. No, miss," he said, looking down at the ground. "Y-you're very pretty," he blurted, suddenly.
"Shut up, Rhys!" a small Gormotti girl cried from behind him.
"What! She is!" Rhys snapped back at her.
Jin smirked as Mythra chuckled quietly. "Rhys, that's your name, is it? My name is Mythra, and this is Jin."
"Yes, miss," the boy replied quietly. Finally, he let down his guard, his hands, dropping to his sides.
"Well, why don't you tell me what you're doing here?"
Rhys was quiet for a moment, and suddenly the other children behind him began crying. "We...our...village was attacked by bandits," he murmured. "Our parents told us to go hide in the woods while they defended...but the bandits had blades, they overpowered them...and then...they took everyone to the village square...and...and..." he looked up, tears carving streaks in his grimy face. "T-t-they killed them. All our parents. Everyone in the village. And then they burned it down. I..." He scrubbed his face furiously, trying to get rid of the tears, until finally he gave up and placed his face in his hands, sobbing uncontrollably.
Mythra closed her eyes as the children wept before her. Another example of her father's monstrous, endless cruelty. "Shhhh, shhh," she said, gathering them in towards her. "Come on. Let's get you something to eat." She glanced up at Jin. "Do we have enough in our supplies…?"
"No," Jin replied quietly. "But I can probably fish something up."
Mythra nodded. "I'll get a fire going."
2.
It was a few hours later, when night had begun to fall, when Mythra, Jin and the five children sat around a roaring bonfire, the smell of sizzling fish wafting deliciously through the air.
The children sat wrapped in blankets and towels, drying themselves by the fire. Mythra had insisted that they bathe themselves in the nearby stream, as she tried her best to wash some of the filth out of their clothes, which lay drying by the fire as well. She had examined them for wounds. They were all fairly uninjured, except for minor cuts and scratches, but were all very skinny. By the state of their clothes and how thin they had gotten, she thought they must have been on their own for some time. When questioned, Rhys admitted that it had been weeks that had they had been on their own, and they had barely eaten anything at all other than some berries and wild pears they had found. It was fortunate that they knew a bit about how to survive in the wild, having grown up in an isolated village. Other children probably would not have lived so long.
Jin had fished up more than enough for everyone to have a large meal. Gormott's bounty was a blessing. He placed the steaming portions of cooked fish, delicately spiced, onto large leaves for plates. "Careful, it's still hot," he cautioned, as he passed out the fish to the wide-eyed children, who blew on their portions frantically before digging into them greedily, eating with wild abandon, using their hands.
Mythra and Jin let the children eat their fish in peace, watching them idly from across the roaring fire.
"Imagine," Mythra murmured by Jin's side. He glanced over at her. She was watching the children with an odd expression on her face. "Imagine being my Father. Having the ability to order the world as you see fit. And you give children this incredible ability to love."
"I..wouldn't know," Jin mumured in reply. "I never was a child."
"No, I guess you wouldn't. I guess many blades wouldn't really know, not having parents. Maybe Nia would have some idea, with how her driver adopted her. But children love their parents so...completely, so thoroughly. Admire them. I...have some idea. I felt that way about Father, once. A very, very long time ago. And when I was first awoken..." pain crossed her face. "I...even felt that way about Amalthus, once." She shook her head, drawing a deep breath. "He gave them this capacity for love, and then throws them into a world where it becomes poison before they're even old enough to take care of themselves. These children...they're going to live with the pain of their parents being murdered before their eyes for the rest of their lives. And children don't have a choice. They can't help but love their parents." She stared into the night sky, off into the direction of the world tree, glowing a gentle green, far off on the horizon. "Why did he do it? Why did he make the world such an awful hell? Where everything beautiful can be turned against you…? Does he not care…? Is he...like Malos, where he just can't understand? Was it all just an awful mistake born from his ignorance? Could he really be this unimaginably cruel?"
"We'll get our answers once we meet him." He glanced down, suddenly. Mythra's hand had worked its way into his, holding him tightly.
"Jin," she whispered, still staring at the World Tree, "I'm scared."
Jin was quiet for a moment, his only response being to squeeze her hand.
"Father is...beyond anything you could imagine," Mythra murmured after a moment. "If he so desired...he could read my every thought. Yours too. The thought of any blade. His creations could end the world a thousand times over, if he commanded them to. If he willed it, he could reach down from the Tree and force us back into our cores, lock us there forever. I know….you're angry at him. With good reason. I am, too. But there really is no fighting him. We will only be able to get close to the Tree at all at his mercy. Or...because he's stopped caring."
"And is that why you're scared? You think we wouldn't...be able to defeat him, if it was necessary?"
"No," Mythra whispered. "I've...always known that. What frightens me is...he's the Creator of this world. Infinite power in his hands. What would make him...lose interest in the world? If that's why he's gone silent...what is it that he saw?"
"Um, Sir? Miss?"
Mythra and Jin glanced back across the fire. The children had finished their meals. Most of them were drifting off to sleep, leaning against each other, sprawled in the grass. With the past few weeks they had had, blankets, soft grass, full bellies and a fire seemed like paradise to them.
But Rhys stood before them, wrapped in his blanket, his intense green eyes almost glowing in the dark as the light from the fire reflected off of them. "I...I wanted to say...thank you," he stammered, blushing again as Mythra stared at him. "But…those bandits….the ones I told you about...we were trying to make our way to Torigoth to warn them. Before we ran away, we heard them saying that they were going to Torigoth next. I think they're going to attack it…."
Jin leaned back, crossing his arms. "How many of these bandits did you say there were?"
"Maybe twenty. Five with blades."
"Well." Jin shook his head. "They aren't going to Torigoth to attack it, then. The Ardainian garrison may have been recalled to the front lines, but they've still got plenty of soldiers left behind. Those bandits would never break past the defenses. No. I'd say it's more likely they're headed to Torigoth to try to enlist in the Imperial army. Bandits do that all the time. Give up the plundering life to sign up with an army. They know they'll be hunted down otherwise, and killing is what they're good at."
Rhys stared at him with wide eyes. "Would...they could really do that? Just join up with the army, and get away with it all?"
"Yes." Jin nodded. "Foreigners who enlist in the Imperial military usually get a guarantee of forgiveness for past crimes, rebellions or insurrections. That's the exact purpose of it, actually. To give rebels and bandits a way to surrender, instead of backing them into a corner where they have to fight."
Rhys's eyes grew even wider, and he looked back down at the ground. "It's….it's not right," he muttered, and suddenly tears were in his eyes again.
"What was your plan, Rhys?" Mythra asked quietly. "After warning Torigoth. What were you and your friends going to do?"
"I dunno about my friends..." Rhys said, sniffling, glancing back at them snoozing in the grass, just on the edge of the flickering light cast by the fire. "But...I wanted to go get a blade of my own. And then kill them."
There was silence for a moment, the only sound the crackling of the fire.
"You know that's dangerous, boy. Not everyone can bond with a blade. If you're incompatible, you might end up dead." Jin's eyes were cold, burning blue in the darkness, behind his mask.
Mythra put up a hand, reaching out through the ether, her eyes closed as she concentrated. "Well. You are compatible, at least," she said, opening her eyes.
"I...I wanted to ask..." Rhys said shyly, pointing to the glowing green core on Mythra's chest. "Are you...a blade? His blade…?"
"I...am a blade, yes." Mythra glanced over at Jin. "But...not his. I don't have a driver."
"I never heard of a blade without a driver," Rhys said, wonderingly.
"I'm a very special kind of blade."
"Well…." Rhys glanced up, suddenly bold. "Will...will you be my blade then? Will you help me get back at those bandits? Please, miss, you don't have to be my blade forever! I just-"
Mythra laughed quietly, putting up a hand. "You….really don't want me as your blade," she replied, her voice soft, sad. "But...I would like to know where these bandits are."
Jin glanced at her, arching an eyebrow in quite surprise. But he kept his silence.
"Why don't you get some sleep, with your friends," Mythra continued, laying a hand on Rhys's cheek, as the boy blushed and looked away again. "We can talk about what to do tomorrow morning."
As the boy nodded glumly, walking away to lay down in the grass, wrapped up next to his friends, Jin glanced over at Mythra. "Hunting bandits?"
"Well, we're stuck here for a few days anyway," Mythra murmured, her sad eyes watching the children sleep.
"No. I mean...it doesn't seem like you."
Mythra was quiet for a long, long time. "I...am not Pyra," she said, finally. "We share a lot. We agree on a lot. But...we disagree on the best way to get there." She shook her head. "I...spent a lot of time locked away….not….wanting to be the ugly, awful thing I was before. Not wanting….to let this world touch me. Pyra...woke me up, because there are some things I can do she can't. Not just because I have the power." She looked at him, a sad, crooked smile on her face. "Like kill. Kill to save you. Kill because...I'm already part of the nightmare Father made. I already caused so much suffering. Kill because I'm already a monster."
3.
The children were voraciously hungry when they awoke the next morning, as well. Jin marveled at how much they could eat. Fishing yesterday, he had bought back an entire bushel of fish – more than enough, he had thought, to last nearly a week, once the food was cooked and preserved. Instead, the children had eaten through it all it two meals, and were already asking for more. "Architect," he muttered. "I don't know how humans do it."
"Give them a break, Jin, they've been starving out here for weeks." Mythra placed her hands on her hips, surveying the group. They were much more energetic than they had been yesterday. Just some food and some good sleep had gone a long way to restoring their spirits. Some times, they even seemed like normal kids, not ones who had watched their parents die in front of them. Rhys though, sat away from his friends, still brooding.
"There's a lumber camp not so far from here," Jin said quietly, as the children chased each other around. "Owned by a small family, father, mother, two sons, daughter. I scouted it out, watched them for a while. They seem like decent people. I think we could trust them to take care of the kids and bring them to Torigoth."
Mythra nodded, approvingly.
"And Rhys?" Jin asked.
"Rhys." Mythra glanced over at the young boy, sitting on a log, kicking at the dirt. "I….I want Rhys to show me where his village was."
Jin silently crossed his arms.
"I'm curious," Mythra continued. "I...want to see. And you can track the bandits from there, can't you?"
"I could."
Together, they gathered the children. It was a bit like herding cats. After their long isolation in the wilderness, the children were excited about the prospect of returning to civilization. Though a coupe of the older ones seemed to sober up a bit when they realized that returning to civilization didn't mean returning to normalcy. There never would be a normal for them, again. Not a home to go back to, no parents to return to. What they were looking at was an orphanage. The best they could hope for was friendly strangers.
The lumber camp was about an hour's walk away. As they approached, they spotted a small sign, reading 'Borvald Family Lumber'. The daughter, a slim Gormotti girl barely older than the children themselves, spotted them first, from where she was laying sitting on a pile of stacked logs, chewing a blade of grass idly. Her eyes widened as she saw them coming up the path, and she immediately leapt down, running back towards the cabin, calling for her parents.
The family met them on the path, before they made their way to the cabin. The father and his two sons, all wide, broad-shouldered, muscular Gormotti men blocked their path, each of them casually carrying an axe, as the mother and daughter watched cautiously from the distance. Jin supposed, with bandits around, the family had probably learned to be careful. But they loosened up a bit once Jin and Mythra told them the children's story, their faces falling to hear what had befallen their village.
"S'awful," the father rumbled, tugging on his thick, blonde mane, as his wife and daughter slowly approached. He eyed the children, wincing. "S'awful. With the Ardainians concentrating on the Urayans, guess it wasn't long before bandits that bad popped up. Still."
"Will you take them to Torigoth?" Mythra asked, as the children hid behind her, peering cautiously around her legs at the family.
"Of course. Only right. We can take them there when we go to make our delivery next week." He glanced down at the kids, then at his wife, who had arrived at his side. "You kids like cookies? Sara here makes a mean batch of cookies."
His wife crossed her arms, winking at the children. "That's right. Best in Gormott. I'll make you a batch. But you gotta get to them fast, before my husband here gobbles them all up."
Slowly, the children warmed up to the family, slowly emerging from behind Mythra, as the wife and husband promised them safety, shelter and more food. Only Rhys remained by Mythra's side. "This one….he said he'd show us the way to his village, and to the bandits," Mythra said, when the husband looked at her questioningly.
"Are y'sure that's safe?" the husband asked, crossing his broad arms.
"I promise you," Jin said grimly, "It's going to be a lot less safe for the bandits than it will be for us or the child."
"Rhys...be careful!" yelled one of the Gormotti children, a small girl with bright red hair, rushing forward to hug him.
"Geddoff, Linz," Rhys muttered, as she squeezed him tight, before finally rolling his eyes and hugging her back. "I'll be fine. I'm gonna get those bastards back."
"Just come back," Linz snapped at him. She fidgeted for a bit, then gave him a peck on the cheek before rushing back to join her friends with the family.
Rhys blushed furiously as his friends tittered and giggled. He turned back to Mythra and Jin as the family retreated back to their cabin with his friends, a hand lingering thoughtfully on the cheek Linz had kissed. "So you really are gonna help me get back at the bandits?" he asked, excitedly.
"First, just bring us to your village," Jin replied. "That's the last place you saw them, right? We can't make any promises. They might have moved on by now, already."
"Alright, yeah," Rhys said, unable to contain the excitement in his voice. He clenched his fists determinedly, stamping his feet. "It isn't too far. We...ah...we got pretty slow and we spent a lot of time running around confused."
Jin gave Mythra a meaningful look. She knew what he was thinking. They had agreed to meet Akhos at the rendezvous point in three days. Whatever they were doing, they would have to hurry.
Rhys began by leading them up, further up into Gormott's mountains, up winding, narrow paths, steep inclines, long grassy hills dominated by humongous boulders, the ascent so steep that it looked like the boulders might dislodge themselves from the ground and come bouncing down at them at any moment. The sky was crystal-clear blue, and the sun beat down on them. Rhys did a good job at keeping up at first, but soon, the weeks of exhaustion and starvation that he hadn't quite recovered from yet began bearing down on him, and he started to flag, panting with exhaustion, drenched in sweat as he tried to keep a hard pace leading them on. Finally, with a grunt, Jin scooped him up, giving him a piggyback ride. "You just point out where to go," he said, emotionless, when Rhys protested. He looked over to his side, at Mythra, who had a hand to her mouth, her eyes twinkling. "What?"
"Nothing. You just...you look very cute, giving him a ride like that. That's all."
"Hmph."
From then on, they were able to keep a much more brisk pace, Mythra and Jin sprinting up the steep inclines of the mountain, Jin never slowing down despite his burden. Eventually, the hills leveled out, to a high plateau on the mountains, a flat, green field of long grass, humongous, jagged boulders dotting the landscape. As they continued on, the field slowly became dotted with more and more trees, until they stood at the edge of an ominous, thick forest, quiet, full of dark green shadow.
Jin set Rhys down, and they settled in to have some lunch before entering the forest itself. Rhys settled into the sandwich they gave him voraciously, gobbling it up before Mythra and Jin had even taken a few bites of theirs. He licked the crumbs from his fingers, glancing between Mythra and Jin as they ate, green eyes wide and curious. "Y'know, I never did ask," he piped up, suddenly. Jin and Mythra glanced at him. "What are you two doing out here? Some kind of warrior, and a special blade who doesn't need any driver. What are you guys doing in Gormott?"
Mythra was about to finish chewing and answer him, when to her surprise Jin spoke up. "On a mission," he said. Then he laid a finger along the side of his nose and winked at the boy. "A secret one."
"Whoa…." Rhys said, mouth agape in awe. "That's so cool. Who do you guys work for…? Are you with Uraya? You don't look Urayan..."
"We don't work for anyone but ourselves." Then Jin shook his head. That wasn't quite right. "We work for...the memory of loved ones lost."
There was silence for a moment, the wind howling across the plain. Then Rhys crossed his arms and looked at him skeptically. "Memory, eh? Working for memory pay you very well? What kind of a boss is memory?"
"Pfft," Mythra said, nearly choking on her sandwich, and then she burst out laughing. "There's that Gormotti wit," she said, a sad smile on her face. "Oh, he reminds me of Nia."
"Who's Nia?" Rhys asked, squinting up at her.
"A...Gormotti girl, we used to know," Jin said quietly. "She has...a sharp tongue. And a kind heart. Too kind for her own good." He got to his feet, stretching out, then glanced down at Rhys. "We should get going. Are you good to walk on your own, now? Do you need a ride again?"
"I can walk, I can walk," Rhys muttered. "I didn't need a ride before, I told you. Come on."
He led them into the forest. As soon as they entered, it was like a blanket of quiet enveloped them. The sound of the roaring wind on the peaks of the mountain could no longer be heard. Instead there was nothing but the gentle, mysterious rustle of the breeze through the trees. The canopy overhead was thick, letting little light filter through, what light did make its way in stained a dark, gentle green. The forest floor was matted with years of fallen leaves, and besides the sounds of their feet crunching on the forest floor, and the whisper of the wind through the leaves, there was only the occasional tweet of a bird to let them know that they were not alone.
It was a few hours before Rhys led them to a small, beaten dirt path, winding through the woods. "This is it, this is the path home," he said, looking at it sadly. "Still got a ways to go. And...I guess it isn't really home anymore." He rubbed his eyes, blinking furiously. "We...ah, let's just go."
They followed the dirt path, as the daylight began to die, and the forest grew yet more quiet, yet more dim. Finally, Jin bought them to a halt, in an area where the path opened up slightly, before the light died completely. "We can rest here, tonight."
"Yeah...that doesn't sound like a bad idea," Rhys said, quietly. As they had drawn closer and closer to his village, he had become more and more morose, more and more withdrawn. "We can make it there by tomorrow morning."
They gathered some fallen branches and sticks together, making a small ring of rocks to contain a small fire, sweeping bare a large portion of the forest floor so the thick carpet of dry leaves would not catch flame. Rhys, despite his former appetite, declined the food they offered him. Instead, he merely retreated out of the ring of light cast by the campfire, into the dark shadow of the wood, wrapping his blanket around himself, immediately falling into a deep, quiet sleep as he retreated from the world.
Mythra and Jin watched him for a moment, eating in silence. "Hard not to think," Mythra said, after a moment, "That if we don't stop this war, this will be all too common. Children with dead parents. Villages burnt down." She crossed her arms across her chest, looking down at the ground. "It's awful enough seeing just one child's pain. A thousand torn from their families, a thousand seeing their parents die..."
"We can stop that from happening."
Mythra was quiet for a moment. And then, without looking up, she asked, "What if we can't?"
Jin didn't answer, merely staring into the crackling fire.
"We haven't come close to stopping it yet. Nothing we're doing seems to be working."
Jin shifted in the darkness, the flickering shadows from the fire dancing across his face. "I have...some ideas for more….radical action. We haven't done everything we can yet. There are other things we can do. Other routes that we can take."
"And if those don't work?" Mythra whispered. When Jin didn't answer, she continued. "Mor Ardain…I've...well, Pyra has watched it through the centuries. Watched it get bloodier and bloodier. I can't recall a single time in history where it was swayed away from the path of war, once it had settled on it. No disaster or defeat or scandal has ever stopped it. And now it's stronger than it ever has been."
Jin remained silent. He didn't have an answer for her. If his next plan didn't work, the fact was that he didn't have any plan after that. If his next plan didn't work, Mor Ardain was going to get its war, like it had countless times in the past. Trampling countless lives, ending countless futures.
Mythra raised her head to stare longingly into the fire, the lights dancing in her eyes. "The suffering is all too much," she murmured. "This...hell of a world. The normal horror, the normal tragedy of life, is it not enough for them? They have to drag this world to war, to the darkest nightmares possible? What will stop it? What can be done to stop it…?"
4.
They awoke the next morning in the utter silence of the forest, continuing down the path. Rhys was quiet, not saying a word.
It wasn't long, perhaps an hour's walk, before they spotted it. The forest opened up into a clearing. And down the path was a charred, shattered arch, wrought of wood. Beyond it they could see the blackened, empty shells of houses burnt to the ground.
Rhys stopped walking, suddenly, beginning to shake. "I...I don't want to go back there," he whispered. "Please. I don't want to go back there, okay?" Suddenly, he looked up at Mythra, tears streaming down his face. "I'll wait here, okay? Don't make me go back there, okay? I-" And suddenly, he threw his arms around her, sobbing into her dress.
"Shhh," Mythra said, gently, patting the boy's head.
"I'll go check it out alone," Jin said quietly. "Look to see if I can't find any trail."
Mythra nodded. "I'll...stay here with Rhys. Who knows if there's any bandits still around."
Jin nodded, his eyes darting cautiously around the forest. He unsheathed his blade and walked off towards the remains of the village, quiet as a cat.
Mythra wrapped her arms around the frantically sobbing Rhys, trying to soothe him. "I know," she murmured. "I know it's hard. I know. It must hurt so badly to have lost them. To have lost everything."
Rhys didn't answer, just twisting his hands into her dress, crying even harder. But after some time, he began to calm down, the hitching in his shoulders slowing, his breathing calming. He let go of her, wiping his eyes furiously, taking in a shuddering breath. "Yeah," he whispered. "Yeah. But...I guess I didn't lose everything. I still have my friends. I should be grateful for that."
Mythra closed her eyes. What a miserable, sick prison existence was. Where a child had to be grateful that not everyone he knew was murdered before his eyes.
"But I guess….I really do have nowhere to go anymore." Rhys sniffled, blinking back more tears that threatened to flow. Shyly, he twisted a foot in the dirt, looking up at Mythra, his mouth opening and closing as if he wanted to ask something, but didn't know how to say it. Finally, he stamped his foot, as if steeling himself. "I...I dunno where you guys are going but….when you go….can I go with you?"
Mythra looked down at him in surprise. "Wouldn't you miss your friends?"
"Yeah, but..." Rhys shook his head. "You guys are so strong. And you helped us so much. I...want to learn how to be strong like you. So I can come back and protect my friends." He shook his head, a bitter frown growing across it. "When we ran...I tried to protect them...but I was so scared all the time. We had to run from vvolfs, and we were starving, we probably would have died if you hadn't found us. I was so useless. I couldn't protect them from anything." Then he looked up at her, with shining eyes. "But if I was strong like you...none of this would have happened at all. I would have been able to defend the village. I swear, I wouldn't be a burden, I'll stay out of your way, and it wouldn't be forever, I just want to learn how to be strong-"
Mythra put a gentle hand on Rhys's shoulder. "I...there are other places you can learn to be strong, Rhys. And other people you can depend on to be strong for you."
"But I couldn't depend on them!" Rhys shouted, suddenly angry. "My parents, my whole village...they couldn't...I'm the one who has to be strong for my friends! It has to be me!"
He stared up at her in defiant anger. Mythra wasn't sure what to say to him. Fortunately, at that moment, Jin returned, melting in from the shadows of the forest. His blade was back in his sheathe, and he wore a grim expression on his face, darker than Mythra could remember seeing in a long time. She knew that expression. Jin wore it when he had witnessed something particularly abominable. She tried not to think about what Rhys must have seen take place in his village before he fled. "Savages," Jin spat, his voice cold fury. "Complete savages."
"Were you able to find a trail?" Mythra asked, turning away from Rhys.
"Yes. They didn't make much effort to cover their tracks. Follow me."
Jin led them off the trail, into the woods, keeping a wide berth around the village. He didn't say it, but Mythra knew it was for Rhys's sake that he was keeping the village out of sight. Suddenly, he pointed at a portion of the leaves in the forest floor. Mythra looked at him quizzically. "These leaves, see how they're tamped down?" Jin explained, quietly. "Many feet marched over these. Marching into the village."
"If you say so..." Mythra said, shrugging.
Jin gave her a flat stare, sighing. "Yes. I do say so. Come on, just follow me."
Jin led them deeper into the forest, further off the dirt path, following a trail that only he could see. It led them on a winding path through the woods that they followed for hours. Mythra began to wonder if they were losing the bandits, but Jin insisted that the trail was obvious. Suddenly, it led them to a small clearing in the forest. In the center of it were the charred remains of a fire, and surrounding it were some small, discarded, cooked bones. Arrows stuck out of trees, where the bandits had used them for target practice.
"They joined up with a much larger group here," Jin muttered, casting his eyes about the clearing. "Not just twenty men. I'd say closer to one hundred."
"One hundred men…?" Rhys said, fear creeping into his voice. His eyes darted about the forest. "Oh...oh, I'm sorry for bringing you out here. You can't fight that many, you..."
"Boy, you let us worry about how many we fight," Jin snapped. He was still furious about what he had seen in the village. Furious that Rhys had had to witness it. It had been a horror. Beheaded bodies, corpses tied to posts and used as target practice, all burnt beyond recognition. He wondered which of them had been Rhys's parents. "If twenty men couldn't hide from me, one hundred men certainly can't. Come on."
"Wait," Rhys said, tugging on Mythra's arm. "Wait, wait. Stop. You aren't going to fight that many. Please, let's get out of here. I don't want you dying too."
Mythra laughed softly. "Rhys, you said Jin and I were strong. Well, I think we're stronger than even you know. Do we look worried?"
"I..." Rhys shook his head.
"Don't worry. We'll take care of you. Come on."
Jin led them further into the forest. Eventually, the trees began to thin, opening up once more into the rolling hills and cliffs of Gormott's mountains. And there, like an ill omen, winding its way through the plains, around the hills and the gigantic boulders, was a well-beaten, wide dirt path, one used by many men. The sun had begun to set, bathing the plains in a deep red light.
Jin led them away from the path itself, winding around hills, dashing behind boulders, following the path and yet keeping it out of sight, to avoid being spotted by anyone who might be traveling along it. Fortunately, they spotted no one along it, not a soul. The path led them down from the heights of Gormott's mountains, descending, always descending.
Night had fallen when they reached the path's end. It was a large cave, the entrance nearly thirty feet across, bored into the side of the mountain, at the top of a plateau surrounded by a sheer cliff. Torches were ensconced in the rock next to the entrance, casting flickering orange circles of light into the night. As they watched from behind a large boulder, a couple hundred feet away, they saw a pair of bandits walk their way up the path, one carrying a spear, the other strapped about with half a dozen swords, entering the cave. But beyond that, not a soul.
"Well, this is it," Jin muttered quietly, popping his blade out of its sheathe. But Mythra placed a hand on his arm, stopping him.
"I'll handle this, Jin," she murmured quietly. "Please, stay here and watch Rhys. I don't want you straining yourself."
Jin's eyes shot open in shock, but he didn't say a word.
"You can't mean that you're going in there alone," Rhys hissed, his eyes wide. "You-you're gonna get killed! Please, miss-"
"I'll be fine," Mythra replied quietly, her eyes focused on the cave's entrance. "I...want to see. I'm curious." She shook her head, and whispered, so that neither of them could hear, "About myself."
And she strode off into the night, disappearing into the shadow.
5.
She made no attempt to hide as she approached the cave, walking boldly up the main path, strolling directly into the flickering orange light cast by the torches. She could hear rowdy, coarse laughter echoing from within the depths of the cave, shouting, the roaring of rough, dangerous men echoing up from the depths. Whoever these bandits were, they had grown fat, lazy and complacent plundering the land. They had set no guard, no lookout for anyone approaching the cave.
She entered the cave, following a long, winding tunnel lined with yet more torches. The smell of burnt, cooked meat wafted up to her from below. The men must have settled in for the night, because she came across no one walking along the tunnel. She did come across a stack of a few crates lined against the wall of the tunnel, a little ways in, each one perhaps three feet across. She looked at these, curiously. Then, glancing around, she raised one white-gloved hand and blasted the top off one with a flash of light.
Within, packed within straw, were a few core crystals. Mythra nodded. This was probably why the bandits were headed to Torigoth, in the end. To sell off the core crystals to the Ardainians. It looked like they had quite the collection here. Probably worth at least a few million. In times of war, blades fetched a high price.
She continued down the tunnel, the echoing yells growing louder and louder as she did. Suddenly, quicker than she had expected, it opened up into a large, wide chamber, crawling with men. She dashed behind a rock outcropping to avoid being spotted, and peaked out from behind it to examine the situation.
Jin had been correct in his estimates. There were roughly a hundred men here, and a dozen of them with blades. All of them rough, muscular, wicked-looking, dressed in furs and leathers. Their plunders lined the chamber – woven rugs, gold, tables lined with baubles and personal possessions they had stolen from those they murdered. In the center of the chamber was a large bonfire, a hunk of unidentifiable meat roasting over it. And lording over it all, as the men argued and brawled, on a makeshift throne carved into the rock and lined with furs and blankets, was a large Gormotti man, his mane thick, nearly halfway down his back. At his side stood a blade with striking green eyes and long, windswept white hair, wearing loose white shorts and very little else, a greataxe at her side, looking bored. This must be the chieftain of the bandits. As she watched, he tore a greasy bite from a hunk of meat, chasing it down with a great gulp of wine from an uncorked bottle.
She was still pondering this, still wondering how to handle the situation, when a conversation from a nearby pair of bandits caught her ear.
"Hey, Rus. Didn't see you get back." A lithe man, little more than ten feet away from her, was talking to a much thicker, more stout bandit, currently picking his teeth with a bone.
"Yeah. Me and the boys just got back from hitting the Borvald place. You know, the lumber camp."
Mythra's eyes widened, and she clasped a hand to her mouth to stop her from gasping in shock. The Borvalds. That was who they had left the other children with.
The skinnier man whistled. "Borvald's, eh? You better watch out. That's getting awfully close to Torigoth."
"Yeah, well. It's getting pretty slim pickins around here." The fatter man sighed, taking a swig from a wine bottle. "Not like they had much, anyway. Just some cash. Barely worth the effort of killing them."
Mythra put her hands to her head, her vision blurring. "No," she whispered to herself. "No, no, no."
"You really killed them all?" The skinnier man put his hands on his hips, shaking his head.
"Yeah, of course. By the way, I got a bone to pick with you about that, Nick. They had some kids with them that I recognized from that village we hit up a few weeks back. The one you led the raid on?"
Nick tsked irritably. "I let those kids go for a reason. It's no fun killing children."
"I don't like it any more than you do. But the boss says to leave no one alive for a reason. Imagine if those kids had made it all the way back to Torigoth, told people about us? I had to be the one to handle your dirty work."
Nick looked away, pain crossing his face. "Ah. Man. Really?" He spat on the cave floor. "Shit."
"Not like I enjoyed it, Nick. But next time, do your job properly. It was a close call. Little buggers ran fast, nearly got away from me, too." Rus sighed. "Whatever. What's done is done."
"Fine. I owe you a bottle of wine."
Mythra was doubled over behind the rock outcropping, tears flowing down her face. Her head throbbed. She felt sick to her stomach, like she might throw up at any moment. In her mind, visions of the children's faces danced before her. The little friends Rhys had wanted so badly to protect. The friends that were all he had left in the world. The small girl that had given him an affectionate kiss on the cheek before he had left.
"Oh, Father," she sobbed, leaning back against the rock outcropping. "Oh, why did you make it this way?"
Slowly, she got to her feet, and stepped out from behind the outcropping, stepping out into the light of the chamber, walking slowly, so slowly. Her eyes flashed fury, glowing with inner light, two beacons in the darkness.
"Hey-hey, what the hell? INTRUDER," snapped a bandit, drawing his sword as she stepped into the chamber. Heads spun around to look at the source of the shouting. "Lady, you can't be here. You got a death wish?"
Mythra ignored him, continuing her slow walk to the center of the chamber.
The bandit shrugged, swinging his sword at her head. It bounced off her ether shield. He might as well have been striking stone. He stared at his sword, then at her, in wonder, and with a yell, continued trying to hack at her.
And suddenly the whole chamber was a flurry of activity. Men rushed towards her, roaring, brandishing weapons, trying fruitlessly to hack through her ether shield. Crossbow bolts clattered harmlessly against it, falling to the ground.
The Chieftain rose to his feet, stumbling drunkenly from his throne, his eyes flashing at her as she made her way through the chamber. "Zenobia," he snapped at the blade next to him. "This seem like enough of a challenge for you?"
"Sure does, boss," his blade said, giving a wicked smile, hefting her greataxe, bigger than it seemed possible for someone of her slim build to lift. She dashed across the chamber, bringing the axe down on Mythra's shield with a mighty yell, her expression changing to one of fear as it harmlessly bounced off the ether shield.
Finally, Mythra reached the center of the chamber. She took a deep breath, looking at the faces of the men surrounding her, some of them still trying to hack through her shield, some of them just looking on in fear. "ENOUGH," she roared.
And light burst from her, radiating, shaking the entire chamber, sending men and blade alike flying, slamming into walls, toppling to their knees, falling to the ground.
Mythra slowly walked forward, stepping over the confused and dazed men, walking towards the chieftain as he tried desperately to stagger to his feet. She reached out, grabbing the sides of his head, lifting him bodily off the floor. He struggled against her, gasping, but her arms were like steel bars. "Zenobia!" he cried, as Mythra's mad eyes bored into him, and he felt fear fill his heart. "Zenobia, help-"
"Boss!" Zenobia cried, hefting her greataxe again. "You bitch, put my boss down-"
Mythra glanced at her, and the light pouring from her eyes roared, hellish, boiling light, and Zenobia sank to her knees as it sank into her bones, crippling her.
"It's so strange," Mythra whispered to the chieftain as he moaned in fear, still struggling against her immovable grip. "But then again...is it really? She loves you. She was made to love you. As a blade. But it's not just blades." She cast her eyes over the men in the chamber, all of them looking at her in fear. Tears of liquid light rolled down her face. "We were made to love. We were all made to love." She turned back to the chieftain, a bitter smile spreading across her face. "Even you. Even in you, I can see the beauty. The awful beauty. I can see how she adores you. How she fears for you. And yes...you love her too. Oh, if only I could pretend you didn't. If only I could pretend the wicked of the world were loveless creatures, devoid of any beauty. But you love her. Don't you?" She nodded toward Zenobia, who lay prone on the floor, struggling just to get to her knees. "Tell her."
"B-boss," Zenobia gasped, looking up at the chieftain with tears in her eyes. She looked to Mythra. "Please. Please don't hurt him. Please. He's mine. He's my boss."
"Tell her," Mythra whispered, ignoring the blade. "It's your last chance."
The chieftain gulped in fear, tears streaming down his face, his eyes never leaving Mythra's. "Zenobia," he called, "I-I do. It's true. I love you."
"Boss," Zenobia sobbed, reaching out toward him. "Oh, Architect. Eric, I love you too. Oh please, don't hurt him. Don't do this." She struggled to get to her feet, collapsing again. "Please. I love him so much, please-"
"Why are you doing this," the chieftain whispered, as Mythra smiled and nodded, closing her eyes.
"It's so I can't lie to myself," Mythra said, opening her eyes again, the light in them drowning out the world, "About the suffering I am about to cause."
And light radiated out from her, blinding everything, swallowing her and the chieftain. Zenobia struggled to her feet, screaming, rushing towards the light, ignoring the awful, radiating heat of it, trying desperately to reach her driver.
And finally the light subsided, and Mythra was left standing at the center. At her feet was a pile of ashes. In her hands was a charred, blackened skull. She dropped this to the floor, where it shattered.
"Oh..." Zenobia fell to her knees, closing her eyes. "It hurts so much," she whispered. And then with a flash of light, she vanished, leaving nothing but her core.
Mythra shuddered as Zenobia's pain flowed into her, the feelings she had had, the awful horror of those final moments. Yes. She deserved this. This constant, endless reminder of the sick, mad world Father had built. She deserved every last second of this torture.
"Holy Architect," she heard a voice call from the chamber. "She killed the chief. Hell's bells, RUN!"
Mythra idly lifted a hand, and suddenly the entrance to the chamber was sealed off by a wall of blinding, scintillating light. One of the bandits tried running through the wall, and was immediately disintegrated in a blinding flash of hellish light, leaving nothing but floating ash and cinder. And suddenly the chamber was full of panicked shouting, screams, as men clawed at the walls. With a wave of her hand, another wave of force rocked the chamber, throwing them back to their knees, silencing the screams.
"I didn't want this," Mythra said, her voice carrying over the groans, as she stepped down from the throne. "I...don't want anyone to be hurt. I really, really don't. But...that's all you're ever going to do, isn't it? Hurt people. Cause suffering." She shook her head, her blonde hair beginning to float around her as she began to glow. "And it's so awful. Because maybe some of you were never given a chance to know anything else. And even you, oh yes, even you, child killers, know the beauty of love. Maybe some of you are good. You have family, friends, people who love you so, so much. Even your deaths will hurt this sad, broken world." Her eyes glowed even brighter, radiating light outward. "I want you to know...I don't hate you for it. I don't blame you for it. Because causing suffering is all I know how to do, too."
Screams filled the chamber once more as the heat, the boiling light from Mythra grew more intense, filling the world, filling everything.
"This time," Mythra whispered to herself, "I know exactly what I'm doing."
Finally, the light subsided. Mythra sank to her knees in the middle of the chamber, weeping. The walls of the cave were blackened, charred, partially melted with the heat. Where there had formerly been men, there was nothing but ash. All the personal belongings, the tables, the chairs, were ash as well. Where there had been gold, it was running together in great, melted lumps and puddles. She screamed as she felt the pain of the blades in the chamber flow into her, flashes of images, last, final moments of indescribable horror and loss.
Finally, gasping, she got to her feet, walking through the ash, the destruction. On her way out of the cave, she paused by the crates containing core crystals. After a moment's thought, she picked one up.
6.
Jin and Rhys watched the cave from a distance as Mythra walked into it. Jin had to hold Rhys down as he leapt up in shock, bright, white light began radiating from it, pouring out into the night, lighting it up nearly as clear as day. He could hear within it, beneath the strange humming of the light, the screams of horror. "Don't look directly at it," he cautioned Rhys, covering his eyes. And as the screams grew louder, he covered the boy's ears, as well, as the light roared and the world shook with Mythra's awful might, pulling him into a tight embrace. He shouldn't have to hear those screams.
Moments later, Mythra emerged from the cave, standing in the orange light still cast by the torches. She stood still, staring at the sky.
Jin and Rhys rushed towards her. As he drew closer, Jin could see that she was weeping, as hard and as desperately as he had ever seen.
"Did you do it? Did you kill them?" Rhys shouted, as he drew close to her.
Mythra looked down at him, her eyes empty, hollow. "Yes," she said simply.
Rhys jumped for joy, pumping a fist in the air. "Yes! Those bastards! I wanna see!" He made to move past her, to rush into the cave.
Mythra reached out, laying a hand on his shoulder. "No," she whispered, "You don't." She knelt down to face him, giving him a crooked smile. "I have a gift for you, Rhys. You said you wanted to be strong." She held up the core crystal she had taken from the cave. "This will help you be strong."
"Mythra, what are you doing…?" Jin asked, as she handed the core crystal to the boy. This...Pyra definitely wouldn't have done this. Pyra always advised against bonding with blades. She never forbade it – Torna was a group of friends, not a dictatorship, as she insisted – but her advice was always to never bond. That no matter how beautiful the bond could be, in the end it would bring you nothing but pain.
Mythra rose, and leaned in to Jin's ear, whispering. His eyes widened. He looked at Rhys, then looked away, shaking his head.
"Hopefully, things will end," Mythra said quietly to him, "Before it hurts the boy."
"Wow...a blade of my own…?" Rhys asked, wonderingly. "I...how do I…."
"Just close your eyes," Mythra told him, trying her best to hide her sorrow, "And concentrate."
The boy did as she asked, closing his eyes, holding the core out in front of him. Slowly, a gentle blue light began pulsing from the core, softly illuminating his features in the night. And with a flash of light, and a burst of sparks, the core blossomed, light spilling forth from it, slowly resolving its shape, morphing, until…
A small girl with a bandolier of bombs and white and black striped hair burst forth into the night, sparks shooting from two small horns in her hair. She wore a white shirt, wound about with all sorts of alchemical equipment, and a small black and white skirt. Large, metal, insulated gloves covered her hands. Her ears were elongated, sharp.
"I'm...Crossette!" She said, her eyes snapping open, smiling. She looked around, excitedly, then down at Rhys. "And you must be my new driver!"
Rhys stared up at her in awe. "I...are those bombs?" he asked, finally.
"Oh boy, are these bombs, he says. You better believe they're bombs."
"Awesome," Rhys said.
"This girl….will help you be strong, Rhys," Mythra said. "And...she will also be your friend."
"Yep! As your blade, it's my job to protect you, little guy. I won't let you down. WHOA, DON'T TOUCH THAT HOLD ON-" Crossette said, panicking as Rhys began toying with one of the bombs he had plucked from her belt. "I'll, ah, I'll show you how to use that later."
"Rhys," Mythra continued, quietly, "Would you like to come with us?"
"What-really?!" Rhys staggered backwards, nearly falling over in his excitement.
"I thought it over. I realized you were right. You...you need to be the strong one."
"Oh Architect, thank you, thank you, thank you," Rhys babbled, his eyes shining brightly in the night. "You've….you've done so much for me...and..." Suddenly he blinked, his eyes holding back tears. Crossette instinctively threw an arm around his shoulder. "I...I'm so lucky to have met you." He sighed, breathing in deep. "Can...can we go back so I can say goodbye to my friends?"
Jin looked away. Mythra drew in a deep, shuddering breath. "No," she whispered quietly. "No, unfortunately, we've….got to leave soon."
"Oh." Rhys pushed his fingers together, then shrugged. "Well, I can always write them."
"I've called the Monoceros," Jin said, still not looking at Rhys. "I told Akhos to come pick us up on this side of Gormott. He…." he shook his head. "He said Patroka and Mikhail's mission did not go well. When we get back, we should discuss...what we plan to do next."
"Yes," said Mythra, simply, still looking at Rhys. She hoped that Jin's next plan was good enough to stop the war.
Because this time, she knew exactly what she was doing.
Note
A major inspiration for this chapter was Max Richter – Something Under Her Skin
As always, please comment if you read this