"Oh, bloody hell…" Squall swore softly.
Before even catching a glimpse himself, Zell knew the scene must be devastating to have elicited an expletive from their normally unemotional commander. He shared a quick, worried glance with Selphie before they followed Squall out of the Ragnarok and onto the road.
The houses are still burning, Squall noticed dully, as if focusing on the smoldering homes would distract him from the carnage all around. There were bodies everywhere, men and women with faces twisted, frozen in horrifying visages of the terror that must have gripped their hearts in their final moments. Some of the bodies were charred beyond all recognition, while others had been drenched in their own blood. Their landing had upset a flock of buzzards, sending them into the sky to circle until the intruders left.
Down the road, Squall noticed transports lumbering towards them. Within a few minutes, the carriers bearing the crest of the government of Esthar pulled up beside the Ragnarok. Soldiers and what Squall assumed to be the clean-up crew began to stream out of the transports. One man broke away from the group and headed towards them.
"SeeD?" he inquired.
"Commander Leonhart," Squall replied curtly, offering his hand. Inside he winced at the title.
A grim smile spread across the soldier's face. "Sgt. Hilger, sir. We were told to wait for you, and when we saw your ship overhead, we had to step on it just to meet you. My instructions are to show you what my men and I discovered last night."
The soldier turned and led them on into the small village. Selphie had to cover her nose and mouth as the stench of death assaulted them on all sides. She told herself to turn her revulsion into anger, so that she could help avenge the victims she saw lying all around her. She remembered Cid mentioning children, but she saw no small corpses. For this she was thankful. She didn't think she could have handled that.
Finally they reached what Squall guessed had been the town tavern. The front door was blasted apart, and the inside was covered in a sticky black tar-like substance.
"You see the edges of the blast mark?" Sgt Hilger asked, running a finger along the wood, causing flakes of the blasted material to come off into his hand. "Our analysis showed that this appeared to be fire damage, of an extremely high temperature. And yet," he pointed to the painted sign that still hung just above the door, "no blistering of the paint, as there should have been. There's more inside."
They moved into the room cautiously, being careful not to step in any of the tarry black mess. The sergeant stood against the wall beneath a wall sconce. He pointed to a blast hole right beside the candle that still sat in the sconce. "Here, the blast hit so close, the candle should have melted completely and dripped down onto the floor. Yet, there is not even a mark on it"
"Magical fire," Squall reasoned aloud.
"Yes," Sgt. Hilger nodded, "and yet we know that fire magic summons real flame. As we started looking around, we also noticed that there appear to be no bodies belonging to the attackers. Of course, some of them are difficult, if not impossible, to identify."
"Maybe they took their dead with them," Selphie spoke up.
"Maybe, but there are no places holding evidence that anyone had fallen where there now is no body. The body count closely matches the population noted in the town logs."
"Is there anything in those logs to indicate hostility of any nature, from any source?" Squall asked.
Sgt. Hilger shook his head. "Nothing. Nothing but the normal reports of crop turnout and the latest marriages. This place is not anywhere near any kind of strategic location for…well, for anything. We're in the middle of nowhere. The only thing close by is the mountains, and the only thing up there is a few scattered villages."
Squall's eyes narrowed. So far they had found many more questions, and no answers. He turned towards Zell, opening his mouth to speak when there was a shout from the behind the bar doors that led into the kitchen.
"Hey! There's somebody alive back here!"
Quistis stood holding the old, dusty map Lord Gefrey had provided her while the workers pulled the rock and dirt away from the old mine entrance. She had been up before dawn, gathering her supplies and preparing for the long day ahead of her. She had resigned herself to the likelihood of this mission lasting for months with very little excitement involved, and while she silently cursed Cid for the unasked for "vacation," outwardly she was briskly professional, coolly explaining to the three individuals in front of her their roles once they had descended into the mine shafts.
The two brothers, Bret and Geral Iranstaugh, were stocky men with muscular arms thick from pounding away at metal for years. The sons of the local blacksmith, Quistis was certain Gefrey had pain handsomely to pull these two from the forge. They were armed with picks, shovels, and axes, probably forged, Quistis mused, by their own hands. Their role in battle, if battle should come, would be to move to the front and take the bulk of the blows.
Nadiana Loren was a slender, seemingly fragile woman with blonde hair so pale it was almost white. She was a ranger, and though she appeared as if a good wind might carry her away, she gripped her bow with practiced ease and moved more quietly than any such wind. Although more accustomed to running in the trees of the surrounding forest, she would be their scout, her keen senses their warning should danger approach.
A shout from the workers startled Quistis from her thoughts, and she turned as the last of the rock fell away. Beneath it gaped a dark hole, the mine entrance which had not seen sunlight for centuries.
Gefrey was at her elbow. "I will have someone to meet you at sunset, to escort you back to the manor. Take this with you to track the time." He handed her an oval shaped glass, and as she looked at it she saw it was hollow, with tiny tubes running up and down. Colored water moved in these tubes, and did not seem to notice gravity as she tipped it to the side.
"It's a water clock," he explained. "Your watch will not work once you are under the mountain."
"Why?"
Gefrey shrugged. "No one knows. Something in the rock, perhaps. That water clock belonged to my grandfather, specifically for going into the mines. He never made it, I'm afraid, but I felt he would want it carried when someone finally did make the attempt." He smiled warmly at her. "Good luck, Ms. Trepe. I will see you at supper." He turned and walked back towards his horse.
"Ready?" Bret asked, winking at her.
"Yes. Nadiana, you take point. Let's go." Quistis picked up her pack and slung it onto her back, walking towards the cave mouth.
Plunge into the darkness…
She shuddered slightly, and looked behind her. There was nothing, no one but the two brothers talking quietly between themselves. She shook her head a little, reminding herself to keep her mind on the task at hand.
Squall and Zell waited not so patiently outside the white canvas tent into the late
afternoon. The medical hostel in town was part of the crime scene—and a gooey, bloody mess—so the soldiers had hastily erected a med tent. Zell had taken to shadow boxing to combat the boredom, while Squall just stood and stared at the mountains. They were hazy, almost as if they weren't real, but painted against the blue canvas of the sky.
I wonder where Quistis is? Squall blinked at the sudden thought. He hadn't thought about the blonde instructor all day, a welcome respite from the uncomfortable musings their last conversation had stirred. He glanced over at Zell, who had started drawing in the dirt with his heel. He debated for several long moments before speaking up.
"Zell…do you think I….don't talk enough? Shut you guys out?" Oh, lovely, that was great. When you think about how long it took you to say that to him, Leonhart, I think you answered your own question.
Zell stopped and stared at Squall for a minute. "Wow. Um. Hm. I—"
Before he could sputter out anything intelligible, Selphie came through the door of the tent.
"How is he?" Squall demanded.
Selphie cocked her head at him, as if to say don't take that tone of voice with me, mister. "Sleeping. He wasn't in condition to talk much, but you can grill him when he wakes up."
"Which will be when?"
"In a few hours. In the mean time, boys, I'm going to go help with the clean up. If that's cool, Commander?"
Squall grimaced. Not you too, Selphie. He gave a curt nod.
She winked at him before walking off.
The air was cool and damp, the sounds of the forest fading behind them, leaving only the sounds of their passing to echo down the corridors. Nadiana disappeared ahead of them, checking back about every fifteen minutes with word the corridor ahead was clear. Quistis referred to the map often, and thankfully the miners had thought to number shafts with red paint, which showed well enough in their lamplight. Occasionally they would find a pickaxe or two, mostly rotted away with little but the rusted head left. A few hours had passed when they reached the site of the cave-in. Nadiana was waiting there, taking a brief break to drink from her flask.
"Well, boys," she said softly to the brothers, "I believe it's your turn to do the work for a bit."
Geral smiled at her as he and Bret began unpacking their digging equipment. "Work? Naw, 'tis more like a bit o' gardening, I think." He turned to Quistis. "You ladies just relax back there, out of the way. We'll have this rock cleared before ye finish dinner."
She smiled back, chuckling a little at his optimistic—very optimistic, in her opinion—estimation. Her stomach reminded her that it was nearly noon, a fact confirmed by a glance at the water clock. She pulled the beef jerky from her pack and began to chew on it slowly, watching the brothers get to work. Although their family's current trade was working the smithy, they had come from mining stock. They removed the rubble as carefully as one might take apart an engine, one of them occasionally stopping to consider the whole pile before pulling one particular piece from its place.
Geral's estimation of the time it would take them was a bit off, as a couple hours passed. Still, Quistis was impressed with their speed—she had expected this part to take days, rather than hours. Nadiana had roamed off to explore the shafts a bit, promising not to get beyond earshot. Quistis had just replenished the oil in her lantern when Geral called back to her.
"Finished! Ready to get movin' again, Ms. Trepe?"
"Yes," Quistis breathed as she stood up, gathering her pack. She was just putting it on when there was a shout.
"Hey," Bret called, "there's a hole here. Some kinda alcove…"
Quistis turned just in time to watch Bret lean too far over the hole in the left side of the corridor. The rocks beneath his feet shifted suddenly, and he went plunging into the opening.
Quistis cried out, and Geral lunged at his brother, but it was too late.