Quistis walked down the hallway towards the study, looking for Gefrey amidst all the people. She had been amazed at the number of townspeople that had poured into the manor house that morning, bringing all sorts of food and offering their aid with the cleanup. After all the damage had been surveyed, there were a total of nine smashed windows, several pieces of broken furniture, destroyed art pieces and overturned bookshelves. One man, the stablemaster, had been found dead in the courtyard just outside the stables. Lady Elana was busy making funeral preparations for the man, who had no family.
"Ms Trepe!" Gefrey stepped out of the study before she reached it, giving her a wan smile. "I trust you're feeling better this morning."
Quistis grimaced, still acutely aware of the ache in her shoulder. She had bandaged it, and a healthy dose of curative magic had done much to repair the flesh, but it would probably throb for a few days. Silently she wished for Selphie; the spunky brunette had always had a special way with the curative magics.
"I'm fine, sir. I just wanted to tell you, in light of last night's attack, that I believe it imperative I continue with my mission."
"Yes, I agree," Gefrey nodded. "What was it that you wished to speak with me about?"
Quistis glanced around, then gestured at the doorway to the sewing room. "I'd rather not talk about it out here in the hallway, especially now."
After they had entered the quiet, relaxing calm of the sewing room, she turned to face Gefrey squarely. "We haven't found the rod yet. But…We did find something." She took a breath. "There are the remains of a city down there."
Gefrey's eyes widened. "A city?"
She nodded. "A very old city. I've never seen anything like it. We found it by accident. There was a library, and…I know how to decode your grandfather's journal."
"You found the key, down there?"
"Yes. It's not really a code. It's another language, the language of the people that built that city. My team agreed we would not speak about it to anyone, at first because I didn't want treasure hunters and the like swarming the place, and your village. But now…Now I fear someone else may know about it."
"You think the attack last night was related to your discovery?"
Quistis shrugged. "Why else would they take the notes? When they were in my room, one of them was going through my things. They were obviously looking for something. Why they didn't do it more quietly, I have no idea. But I'm going to head back up there today. We're going to focus on finding the rod, and then go back down to learn what we can about the city."
* * * *
"He's getting worse," Selphie announced grimly as she stepped into the cockpit. Zell and Squall were already there, waiting on her.
"Worse?" Squall asked. "How?"
Selphie's brow furrowed. "Well, his fever is getting really high…His skin is red all over, it looks really creepy. And he's been ranting nonstop since last night."
"Oh." Deciding to ponder the news at a later time, Squall looked at Zell. "You ready, Zell?"
"Yeah."
Squall and Selphie sat back as Zell called Shiva. In moments the Ice Queen stood before them, giving them all a sad smile.
"It is good to see you all," she said. "Good to see you are still safe."
"Does that mean you found something?" Zell asked.
"Yes, I did." The cold blue elven woman made a small gesture with her left hand, and the twinkling motes of light around her swirled together and solidified, forming a chair of ice. She sat down regally, turning her shimmering, ice blue eyes on each one of them in turn before continuing.
"I sought out Aurora Tervardi, the Keeper of the Library of the Enchantress. Together she and I were able to uncover some information which might help you.
"The beings of which you spoke match the description of the Das'an'shiorg, or more simply known as the Blood Riders. They were human once, but gave their lives to the demon lord Typhkoth, supposedly by drinking his blood.
"The tainted blood gave their skin a crimson hue, and bestowed upon them inhuman strength and speed. They also have the ability to tap in to the magical power of the demon's home plane, which the swords of flame you spoke of may have been the physical manifestation of."
"That sure sounds like our boys," Zell said. "But why are they here, now?"
"I…don't know. The last time they were seen was before the time of the Sorceress, when magic was…different. They bid a campaign to enslave the world by opening a gate to their lord's plane, allowing him complete entrance to the Prime Material Plane."
"So they're probably planning to take over the world." Zell sighed. Why did anyone want to take over the world? It seemed like a big headache to him, and he never had quite figured it out.
"That is a strong possibility. Of course, they failed, pushed back by the warriors of the Ashino, a race that has long since disappeared." Squall did not miss the look of deep sorrow that briefly clouded the beautiful Guardian's face. Closing her eyes, her expression grew tight and grim.
"You should know that the Das'an'shiorg were supposed to be able to infect the victims of their attacks with their disease, thereby swelling their own ranks."
The three looked at each other.
"The survivor," Selphie finally spoke, horror in her voice. "That's what's happening to him. The fever—the flush in his skin." The girl jumped up, heading for the doorway.
"Selphie, wait," Squall said, standing up. "Where are you going."
There was just the tiniest hint of tears forming at the corners of her eyes. "I'm going to stop it before the poor man becomes…" She shuddered before turning away.
"No, Selphie." Squall turned to the Guardian. "Shiva, how long will it take for him to turn?"
Shiva considered him for a moment. "The records say in a day and a night. But remember, these texts were written by people with exceptionally long life spans. Centuries were as decades to them. So it may be longer."
"Is there a cure?"
"None that is known."
"And once he has turned? Will he seek out his fellows?"
Shiva's brow furrowed as she considered his question. "I don't know. Perhaps."
Selphie turned back and took a step towards Squall. "What are you thinking?"
Squall pressed his mouth into a thin line and looked down, his mind racing. "I…have an idea."
* * * *
"Hyne be damned."
The four of them stood staring at the former entrance to the mines, mouths gaping. What just the day before had been a gaping cave mouth was nothing but a wall of rubble.
"Someone must have come in the night," Nadiana finally said, "and blasted the rock above it."
Quistis turned away, biting her lip to keep in her growl of frustration. Clenching her fists, she took a couple of deep breaths to steady herself. "Bret," she bit out, "go back to town. See who you can find at the manor; I'm sure there are plenty of people standing around, waiting to help but with nothing to do. Get them back up here and get this rubble cleared away."
"Yes, ma'am," Bret turned and headed back down the path.
Quistis sat down on a fallen log and pulled out her two books, the book from the city and Lord Vanderstyll's journal. "Get comfortable, guys," she said to Nadiana and Geral. "We're going to be hanging out here for a little while."
Bret came back with several men from the village, armed with shovels and picks. He and Geral got to work, organizing and supervising their efforts as they set to removing the rubble. Nadiana disappeared into the woods, to scout and do a bit of hunting. Quistis stayed on her log, going through the books and translating what she could as the day wore on.
When the workers had stopped for lunch, Bret made his way over to the SeeD. "Ms. Trepe, this is goin' to probably take us the rest o' the day. Ye might want to go on back to the Vanderstylls…Eh? What's wrong?"
There was a very pale look on Quistis's face, and she didn't seem to notice Bret standing there. She was staring down at the two books in her lap, a pen in one hand, held frozen above the journal. Bret turned his head to the side to see what she'd been writing.
He recognized the first book—it was the one they'd found down in the mines. The second was written in the same gibberish, and although he hadn't seen her take any other books, he assumed she'd gotten it from the library, also. In fresh black ink, her neat, precise handwriting had written in the book, beneath the symbols, what each symbol meant.
This particular passage read: "Find (blank) Way to (blank) (blank) Angel Peak and (blank) Rain (blank) Roses."
Quistis blinked, noticing Bret for the first time. She snapped the books shut. "Nothing. Nothing's wrong. You're right; I'm going to head back to town." She stood up, suddenly aware at how stiff her legs and back had become from sitting for hours on the log. She put the books back in her pack and waved goodbye to the brothers before heading back down the trail.
* * * *
The trail was very overgrown from years of disuse, and very hard to follow. Without Nadiana along to show her the way, Quistis soon realized she had a problem.
She was lost.
Okay, Trepe, this is not a disaster, she told herself after passing a very familiar looking tree. Familiar because I've passed it three times… She decided to stop, taking some jerky out of her pack and chewing on it while she considered her options.
Hmm…I could keep walking south…I'm bound to hit the village sometime…
Or I might miss it completely. It's not a very big place.
I could cast a firaga or something, up into the air, like a flare. Maybe someone—like Nadiana—would see it and come find me.
Or I might catch the forest on fire, and alert every monster in the area as to where I am.
I could call Bahamut. Yes, that's probably the best solution. Quistis put her jerky away and closed her eyes, clasping the platinum pendant with her right hand as she chanted the words of calling, drawing the dragon's essence to her. So entranced with her spellcasting was she that Quistis failed to notice the sudden absence of sound, the forest growing silent around her.
Before she could complete the summoning, something struck her in the chest. Her eyes flew open, a cry of pain escaping her lips as she was lifted and hurled through the air from the force of the blow. With a sickening thud she connected solidly with a tree, and the world went black.
She came to in a heap on the ground, dully aware of the sounds of voices shouting. She drew a breath, tears springing to her eyes as sharp pain swept through her. A tingling was spreading from her chest all over her body, and through her pain she could sense the familiar blue light burning within her, that strange force which eluded her except for when she stood near Death's door.
Dark shapes flickered at the edge of her vision, and she could sense the presence of others surrounding her.
"She dead?" came a low, guttural voice.
"Not yet," another answered, and she blinked away the tears of pain as she watched a hand reach out towards her.
With a few whispered words of the cold blue magic inside her, she felt new vitality flooding her body as the ground seemed to fall away. She managed to lift herself up to a kneeling position, not surprised by the lack of solid matter beneath her, the ground a couple feet away. She could now see her attackers; men clad in dark clothing that covered everything save a small slit for their eyes, looking the same as the men who had attacked the manor house the previous night. Everything around her looked slightly distorted, as if she were looking through thick glass.
Just in time. She saw the telltale sparks of a spell dance across the surface of the invisible wall of force, watching as one of the figures convulsed under the attack of his own spell.
Moving with a speed that seemed inhuman, she snapped out Save the Queen, wrapping it around one man's waist and yanking him off his feet. She flung her other hand out, fingers spread, chanting furiously, the words of power bubbling up from the cold blue light within her. She saw the target of her spell crumbled to dust before their very eyes, but had no time to spare to savor the victory as she saw another flick his hands in rapid succession.
Light glinted off the little star shaped discs as they came hurtling towards her. She managed to dodge the first two, but winced as one embedded itself in her thigh, the other striking her shoulder.
Two advanced on her right, one starting to chant while the other pulled out a long metal staff. Around snapped Save the Queen as she attempted to rip the staff from his hands. She missed the staff, but wrapped the whip around his arm instead. A quick controlled pull on her part put him right into the path of the fire spell his companion had cast. Flames enveloped the unfortunate man, who began screaming. In his frantic waving, he bowled over the caster of the spell before slamming himself into a tree.
Another figure to her left lunged upward towards her, a blade drawn. She sidestepped his first lunge, recognizing the feint too late as he quickly changed direction and slammed into her, punching her gut with his free hand. At that moment the float spell wore off, and she fell hard to the ground. In an instant the man was on top of her, holding the blade to her throat.
"Don't move, SeeD," he growled at her. She steeled her gaze, giving him the most penetrating glare she could, the sapphire depths promising great pain should he let her up.
Suddenly she saw his dark eyes widen in surprise. She felt the blade ease up from her throat, and she pushed him as hard as she could.
Hmm. Maybe looks really can kill. It was then she saw the trickle of blood oozing down the side of his head, probably a result of the dagger now protruding weirdly from the top of his skull. A scream that ended in a sick gurgle tore her eyes away from the sight, and she looked up to see the few figures that were left fleeing into the trees. Two remained, locked in deadly melee with a new combatant.
Gabriel.
In the back of her mind, she knew she should get up and help the purple eyed warrior, but found herself entranced with the dazzling display of swordsmanship. The black-clad man on the right held two long knives, while the one on the left was using a set of nunchaku that ended in three pronged claws. They worked together in unison, sending their weapons whirling in towards Gabriel at every conceivable angle, at every possible moment.
Metal clanging on metal rang out as Gabriel dodged and parried every blow.
His feet moved rapidly, and he almost looked as if he was dancing as he worked his sword furiously, up and down, right and left. Occasionally he would miss, the blade swinging wide and to his left, thunking into the trunk of the tree next to them. Quistis was sure the blade would be stuck in the thick bark, but he pulled it out, repeatedly, and soon she realized he wasn't missing at all.
The two attackers were so focused on their frantic efforts to score a hit on the man that they failed to notice his deliberate efforts against the tree. The nunchaku finally found its mark, grabbing Gabriel by the thigh and knocking him down on one knee. He gave a triumphant bark.
Too soon.
Gabriel's left hand snaked into a small pouch on his belt. She saw the afternoon sun glint off one of the objects he pulled out, while the other seemed….fuzzy.
A bit of fur? What by Hyne is he doing?
Dropping the sword, she watched him as he made a complicated gesture, speaking aloud words that reminded her of a magic chant. He pointed his finger at the tree.
A loud boom of thunder rang in her ears as a bolt of lightning leapt from Gabriel's finger to the tree trunk, right in the place where his sword had weakened it. The two watched in stunned horror as the tree fell down on top of them.
Gabriel had backpedaled as soon as the thunder cracked, being just narrowly missed by the falling trunk himself. Quistis wondered if the ensuing silence was real, or if the thunder had made her go deaf.
He got up and dusted himself off, retrieving the broadsword from where it lay on the ground. He turned and looked at Quistis, giving her a small smile. He made his way over to where she was crumpled on the ground. She tried to get herself up, but found that with the end of the battle-induced adrenaline pumping through her body, the pain in her chest was unbearable.
"Stop," he said softly, gathering her in his arms. "You'll only hurt yourself more."
She coughed, and felt a trickle of blood slither its way down her chin. Hyne, I must be a sight.
"Here, drink this." He was holding a small vial to her lips, and she could do little but comply, gulping down the thick liquid as best she could. Immediately she felt warmth spreading through her body, and suddenly she could breathe again.
He helped her to her feet, keeping an arm about her waist. She found that while she was still wobbly, the potion he'd given her had done much to heal the damage. With a grateful look she stepped away from him, gathering up Save the Queen. They stood looking at each other for several long moments.
"Thank you," she finally broke the silence. "What were you doing out here?"
The ebon-haired man shrugged. "Hunting. I heard shouting, and here you were. What are you doing up here? This doesn't really look like the place to be doing research."
"Well, I was," she huffed, not pleased with being questioned.
"There are supposed to be old mines up here, with not so friendly inhabitants," he continued casually, starting to walk away. "Better be more careful."
"Wait," she called after him, remembering that she was lost.
He turned his head to look back at her. "Yes?"
"I—uh…" She sighed, seeing no way around the stark truth. "I'm lost. Can you get me back to town?"
He could see the mortification in her face as she was forced to ask him for help, and he couldn't help but smile a little. "Sure. But first, I want to follow these guys' trail, see where they came from."
Now, why didn't I think of that? "Okay, sure. But I would like to get back before dinner."
Gabriel laughed, a melodic sound that wrapped her in its golden warmth. "No fear, Lady Wanderer. You'll not go hungry with me."
They made their way through the woods, Gabriel without a sound, while Quistis cringed with every step she took. The thin layer of leaves that had already fallen seemed to crunch like firecrackers underfoot. She had no idea what Gabriel was looking at that kept him on the attacker's trail.
Quistis gave an inward huff of frustration. Why don't we have better wilderness training? I'm going to have to complain about it. The whole world isn't just city, after all.
They didn't have too far to go. They broke from the trees into an open area, bordered on one side by the forest, the other side in cliffs that rose up into the sky, forming a small plateau before meeting the mountain. The ground was much rockier, strewn with many large boulders, and she could clearly see the marks in the ground where a ship had obviously been landed a short time ago.
"They were dropped," she concluded aloud, kneeling down to take a better look at the ruts. "Helicopter, maybe?"
"Maybe," Gabriel walked past the marred ground, and seemed to be looking at the cliff face. The rock was covered in vines and small brush, which Gabriel began cutting away at.
"What are you doing?" she asked, standing and walking towards him. He didn't answer, just continued to slice away at the vegetation.
"I don't think…" she started to protest, but silenced as the rock beneath the vines began to take shape, becoming something other than a pillar of stone. She began to suspect she knew the shape, and as Gabriel pulled the last of the plant life away, her guess was proven correct.
It was a statue, a carving of an angel looking skyward, her wings stretching out across the surface of the cliff.
"Angel's Peak," she murmured, a quiver of anticipation running through her.
Gabriel turned towards her. "What?"
"Uh..Nothing. I…what is that doing out here?"
He shrugged. "Got me. I know there were mines up here…but carvings in the cliff?"
Quistis moved towards the statue, running her fingers over the carving. In her arms the angel was holding a book, and upon closer examination Quistis noticed there was a rose carved on the binding. She was so caught up in her study of the statue that she didn't notice Gabriel chanting behind her, and was taken completely by surprise when the statue began to glow.
She whirled around, staring at him. "What are you doing?"
He stopped, lowering his outstretched hand. "There's a door here."
"How do you know?" she sputtered.
He shrugged. "A spell. Creative use of a simple knock spell."
"Knock spell?"
He ignored her, moving up beside her and examining the statue himself. "There is a door here," he repeated, "and it is no longer locked. Now we just have to find the handle."
She watched as he began running his hands over the rock, much as she had, except he began pressing on the carving, searching for something. Not completely sure of what she was doing, she refused to just stand there and watch, so she began pressing on the rock herself.
It was then she noticed one of the feathers in the angel's wing seemed to stand out, looking more distinct than the others. She laid her fingers on the feather and pushed, hearing a click as the feather depressed.
The sound of grinding rock roared from the statue. Gabriel grabbed her arm and pulled her back, just as the previously invisible door of stone swung open, creaking loudly. It stopped with a horrendous squeal, as if something had stopped if from opening all the way. Quistis breathed a sigh of relief when it finally quit squealing.
Gabriel gave her an impish grin, his amethyst eyes sparkling. "C'mon," he whispered, "let's see where it goes."
"Wait," she began, thinking of the dull throb in her chest. Hyne only knows what's living in there… But she found herself unable to resist his pull as he drew her into the darkness inside the statue.
They found themselves in a short hallway carved of stone. The dying sunlight filtered through the entrance, and after waiting a few minutes for their eyes to adjust, they could see fairly well. Quistis looked at the walls, making out depictions of nature scenes and wildlife. Gabriel walked on ahead of her, to where the hallway made a sharp right turn.
"Oh, Hyne," she heard him breathe. She looked down the hallway at him, and saw his face pale.
"What is it?" she hurried after him, coming to stand beside him. Her breath caught in her throat.
The hallway opened up again to the outside, a few steps descending to the floor of the valley that spread out before them. There were stone arches and benches scattered about, and what had once been paths were overgrown with vines and small bushes. In the center of the small valley rose an old fountain, long run dry, also covered with more vines. The air was warm—unseasonably warm, more like the promise of spring than the cold warning in the autumn air. A gentle breeze wafted around them, stirring their hair.
Everything was covered in roses.