I thank everyone on the hxh mailing list for their wonderful comments. Feel
free to add more! Hehe.
I won't be updating for the next two weeks…well, maybe not, I'll see how bored I am with my studying *groan*. So enjoy this chapter folks.
Chapter 17
Edmond Striker was only seventeen this year. His hair was unfashionably cropped, blonde to set him apart from all his dark haired peers, and a large nose that frightened away most girls his age. The last he saw his dad was exactly five years ago when his dad joined the war because of some foolish ideal called 'honour and duty'. His thoughts were bitter about his father's decision to leave home. Look where it got him – dead, leaving his wife and two children to fend for themselves. His father had two brothers, another who had died, and the youngest crippled with one leg amputated. His uncle now stayed with him in the Capital, living off the adequate widow benefits that his dear mom received from the State. His dad was Albert 'Eagle-eye' Striker, for before he gave his life and services to the country, he had been a master assassin, a sniper who killed with every shot.
But now he was dead, his body blown to bits by some stray bomb in the midst of the chaos of war, and his life continued. In his home, along the walls hung an array of sniper guns, some antiquated, some were modern and boasted long distances. And Edmond secretly trained himself to be a professional sniper to follow in his father's footsteps.
It was the Coronation festival, which would last until the end of the week, after the Emperor gave her Pledge to the country. And then school would resume, and Edmond would once again be ostracized by his peers for his queer looks and large nose. Not that he minded of course – for assassins don't have friends. His mother and uncle bade him go out this morning to buy some ribbons, nice satin ribbons as a gift to his youngest sister, who was turning seven tomorrow. She was two when father left home.
His anger and bitterness continued to gnaw at him, and he hated every bright colour and banner floating in the cool breeze. His father stupidly gave his life to a haughty child with over idealistic dreams, and so Albert destroyed his entire family. And the gall of the people around them to clap and cheer when the war was barely over, and the graves barely furnished. It was enough to set his blood boiling. Recently, he came into contact with some mysterious people who gave him a most delightful proposition to consider. It involved his skill with a gun.
Gloomily, he reached the respectable house which he called home, passed the front gate and wearily pushed open the door. He glanced back in suspicion as two people, two strangers, pushed past the gateway and slowly approached him.
One was a lanky, skinny teenager bearing the emblem of the Forbidden Palace. The other must be a privileged maid, tall and beautiful, out of the Forbidden Palace for a holiday perhaps, which was rare, but not unheard of. The Emperor was not so attached to tradition as the ones before her. The teenager raised her baseball cap slightly in acknowledgement of Edmond Striker and the maid looked about her without much fascination, idly twirling her luscious black hair in her fine, slim fingers.
"Striker residence?" the teenager asked. Edmond gruffly nodded, unsure.
"Ed, is someone at the door?" he heard his mother's approaching voice. Claire Striker was an ordinary woman, slightly plump due to her age and had graying brown hair tied back in a tight bun. She carried with her an aura of pleasantness and generosity, and a smile which inspired trust from any child.
Rudy, disguised as an Official Deliverer, gave the older woman a slight bow, and Illumi likewise curtsied with the true airs of a serving maid.
"We have a delivery for one Claire Striker? May we come in?" Rudy asked casually, carefully using another tone of voice so that she couldn't be identified.
Edmond reluctantly let them in, his despise for them carefully masked. But Illumi, who had covered his emotions for years on end, noticed immediately and decided to keep a careful eye on the teenager. His eyes immediately flew over the surroundings of the small, cosy house. The living room hidden in some corner, and round table with four chairs tucked neatly inside, and just further back, the kitchen. He was rather impressed by the sniper guns displayed on the walls, and noticed on a small shelf, two spirit tablets, with names engraved. Rudy's small cough bought his attention back to the subject at hand. Claire offered tea, which Rudy refused politely, and another man, a cripple by the name of Alfonse Striker sat down and stared hard at them.
The young Emperor dug into the shoulder bag and carefully produced a tattered and dirty envelop with faded words on the front. You could still clearly make out an address and a name however, and she handed it over to the older woman. Edmond, who stood behind his uncle, leaned forward to get a good glimpse of the letter and gasped.
"It's dad's writing."
Rudy also leaned forward to examine the note. "Striker…is a very familiar name. Would that be Eagle-eye Striker that we are talking about?"
"You know my father?" Edmond asked incredulously.
Rudy silently watched as Claire took the letter out of the envelop with shaking hands and wet eyes. She sat down next to her brother in law so they could both read and study the letter. And by the time they finished, Alfonse's face was impassive and Claire had broken down into small sobs.
"Eagle-eye Striker was a legendary sniper in General Deathstalker's army. He first fought with the Emperor at the old Battlefields of Holt, where this letter was written. However, he survived that encounter and was transferred to Deathstalker's personal division." Rudy glanced at the spirit tablets. "I take it he's not with you anymore."
"No," Claire replied unsteadily, carefully dabbing at her eyes. "He will always be in my heart."
"Do you know…how dad died?" Edmond probed.
Rudy had to choose her words carefully. As Emperor, of course she knew how the legendary Striker died, and in a gloriously heroic way too. But she was now an Imperial Delivery person, so she kept the details strictly vague.
"Why haven't you heard? He saved General Deathstalker's life in the Battle of Runn when his division was cut off from the main army for at least six hours. He fought continuously and broke through the encirclement so that the General could take control of the army again. That was a decisive and much needed victory for it secured Arcadia's eastern front. That was about two years ago. Haven't you been given notice? You should be allowed entry into the Forbidden Palace when the Emperor gives her Pledge – all relatives of those who have been awarded Hero of Arcadia are allowed to be present."
Edmond looked at Rudy incredulously. "Hero of Arcadia? But that's the highest award…"
"And it is the greatest honour. As we know it, General Deathstalker awarded Striker that title posthumously. I will remind Headquaters to send you your invitations immediately. And oh…" she dug into her bag again, and produced some items clearly marked and labeled in clear plastic bags. She laid them neatly on the table.
"Do you recognize any of these articles?"
The items ranged from old watches to wedding rings, wallets, photos and other bits of personal items. Edmond's keen eyes immediately spotted his father's old leather banded watch.
"How did you find his things?" Claire asked, new tears in her eyes again. Rudy coughed politely.
"The Emperor knew that not everyone would make it out of Holt alive that day. So apparently, she got all the troops to write down any last words, just in case, and any other person artifacts that the soldiers wished to leave to their loved ones. They were all carefully sealed and placed in an iron chest and buried, which was recently re-discovered and delivered to the Forbidden Palace. All the other items and letters will be sent in time."
Alfonse Striker, the crippled brother of Albert nodded appreciatively and quickly wiped at the corner of his eye. Rudy stepped forth, hesitantly and looked at Claire.
"Why did your husband join the war?" she asked softly.
Claire gazed back, her eyes unfocused. "He heard the Emperor's rally on the radio one day, and he believed every word she had to say. He said to me, if a child could pick up a shovel and start to dig a trench when the city was under siege whilst everyone else was ready to abandon the city, then he too could lend his services to the country. And I'm proud of what he did because he did not fall down in the country's greatest hour of need. He took his gun and joined the Emperor's rally, and that path led him to glory."
Rudy fought to keep her eyes dry. She turned to the spirit tablets. "May I?"
Alfonse nodded and the Emperor personally lit she fragile sticks of incense and bowed low before those tablets, then stuck the incense into the pot of ash.
"The Emperor said that everyone will be heroes, and that no one will be forgotten." She murmured quietly, as if to herself. "No matter who you were, what you did, be you rapist or murderer, if you have the courage to defend the country with your blood and life, then you are a patriot, and your sins forgiven." Her eyes narrowed slightly, determined not to cry anymore.
"For what is the greatest test of courage and honour than the chaos and terror of the battlefield, the raging inferno of a city gripped by siege and bombing, and to confront enemy tanks without an iota of fear? Your life is the greatest gift to the country, and the Emperor will not forget."
She slowly turned to Edmond. "I see that you are bitter, but know what your father bought for you in return for his life."
In that exact moment, inspiration came to her in a sudden flash, and all of a sudden, the Monk's words made perfect sense to her, and she knew exactly what she would say when she approached the altar and made her everlasting pledge to the nation.
She bowed again to the family and bid them a good day. Illumi dutifully followed her.
Back out in the open, Rudy breathed in deeply. She had finally found the answer to all her troubles, finally understood her problems, and the relief from the burden was refreshing. She looked at the multitude of coloured banners flying in the wind, the gradually increasing din of the people in the capital and saw something that she failed to see before. She brightly smiled up and looked at Illumi.
"I'm hungry. Lets go find something to eat."
Illumi nodded, giving her a small smile to show that he was pleased that she was no longer plagued by unhappiness. He had an answer for her too, and he would give her the most wonderful present.
Edmond's mother gave a small sigh and placed the watch next to her husband's tablet. She gave him a small smile, and went back to the kitchen to fix lunch while Alfonse declared that he would take a walk in the park.
Edmond glanced at the letter and felt his anger and bitterness sway. He was torn with indecision.
~ I give my life to the country, Claire, because duty and honour call. I may be an assassin, but when my kinsmen are murdered en masse, sent to be tortured in concentration camps and subdued into brutal slavery, I can no longer stand back and watch. It is my duty to ensure that my family will meet no harm, and I will not let my son and daughter live in such a cruel and terrible world. May he never know of the horrors of a war like this – and I willingly purchase this with my life. Take care of the children, and tell them to hold their head up high. ~
Slowly, he made his way to the phone and dialed a number.
"Liam, I'm afraid I will not take part in your schemes anymore. Find yourself another sniper." And with that, he hung up the phone and placed the letter neatly under his father's spirit tablet – Albert Striker, awarded Hero of Arcadia. He was not a fool.
===========
Alluka had awoken to a silent room. His back felt slightly numb, slightly raw, slightly tender, and he was afraid to put any more pressure on it then necessary. But his mind, hideously augmented by whatever terrifying ordeal he faced four years ago, allowed him to reach out to his surroundings and found that there was quite a lot of excitement buzzing around.
He ran a mental check of his body's systems, and noticed that some spinal distanglements had been miraculously rectified. He also noticed that the anesthetic that had shut off his mind was already ebbing away, the last traces finally wearing off. That was a good sign. And no matter how tender and delicate his back felt, his mental body scan told him that all was in perfect order, and if half a mountain came crashing down on him right now, he could easily punch his way out and laugh without so much as breathing hard. Whatever experiments had been conducted on him years ago had drastically altered his mind, and he was more than a nen user – he had the extra added capabilities of an esper, utilizing the unfounded mysteries of his brain to channel his thoughts and make them a reality. And so everything and everyone was just another object on his constantly sweeping radar in his mind, and he easily navigated through the endless courtyards, corridors and halls of the Forbidden Palace, perfectly able to visualize his entire surroundings in his mind.
And he liked walking. He found the idea of being attached to the confines of gravity quite assuring, and marveled at the way his legs held up without a single tremble – even after so many years of disuse. He had his brother to thank of course, and believed that he could not have struggled for so many long and eternal years on end with his miserable nightmares had Illumi not been there to comfort him.
His delicate and rather angelic face creased into a slight frown. His brother's presence was not in the Forbidden Palace, but the rest of his family were. Had Illumi fled so abruptly without saying goodbye to him? Had he been the weak and crippled Alluka, he might have cried, but now, he only felt a little regret and sadness, but knew that dad had been terribly angry at Illumi's actions of late, so it might be wise to flee and hide, just for the moment.
He sensed that his older brother Killua was not far off, and with a lot of people around him too, including the other two Zoldick siblings. He grinned slightly. It was time to reveal the new him, the sane, calm and composed Alluka, the professional assassin who was now just a cut above the ordinary humanity with his enhanced psionic powers. But he would hide it for as long as necessary, for it was always wise to have an extra ace up his sleeve that no one else should really know about.
Koran had returned, dragging a limp and unconscious Hisoka with him to the infirmary room where Illumi had been resting before. Only that the Zoldick assassin had already come around, and no one knew where he went. All his brothers and sisters idly sat around on the shallow stone steps, wondering what on earth was happening, and why they had sudden gaps in their memory, and Zuchi continued to practice his hatsu. Koran didn't receive any special orders from his mentor, the old Eunuch busy discussing things with the Generals after the interrogation ended. So he too, sat idly, waiting for some fun, and cast a glance back at Hisoka now and then, just to check when he would wake up.
"Hey Karu, what time is it?" Alluka pleasantly asked, approaching the group easily. Everyone turned and marveled at the way he so gracefully moved, after the years of incapacitation.
"It's late morning, almost twelve." Karuto responded, drawing the doll closer to her. Whatever elation she felt for her brother, she lacked the expression to show. And Milluki sighed with relief and clapped his young brother on the back.
"Glad you're back on your feet, 'xcuse the pun. So Allu, what's the first thing you want to do?"
Alluka pondered on this quietly, and his eyes finally laid on the jewel of the Zoldick family – the successor with supposed talents that the Zoldick had never seen before. He had a quiet mind to quickly rectify everyone's thoughts on that matter – not with his psi powers, but in a real duel. He perfectly raised the corners of his mouth into a mildly amusing and non threatening smile.
"How about it bro" he addressed Killua "you and me, one on one, right here, right now to see who gets to be the Zoldick successor."
Alluka quickly studied the group of people sitting there, and pointed to Koran.
"You are probably the most impartial of us all, having no ties or connections with either of us. You be the judge."
The young eunuch nodded amiably. It was not uncommon to see people honing their martial skills in the Forbidden Palace, and frankly, it was a sport he greatly loved, until it turned tragically dull once Master Echlan bought his skills to an entire new level and everyone was just so beneath him these days.
"Alluka, are you sure?" Leorio regarded him with concern. "You've just recovered from your operation, and I think you shouldn't be exerting myself."
"Of course I won't be exerting myself." Alluka replied simply, the insult fully intended. He quickly added "And I feel great. My body is telling me that everything's fine, and nothing short of dad can really hurt me." And dad probably couldn't hurt me, unless he really tried, he silently added.
Killua stood up in a humph of angry airs, and moments later, two albino children were cautiously circling the other, penetrating eyes searching for any possible weaknesses in each other's stance. Koran nodded appreciatively.
"Not bad" he casually muttered, and motioned for them to fight.
Killua naturally thought that he had the upper hand in speed over Alluka, his younger brother having barely returned to using his legs. But he soon realized that he was wrong…terribly wrong. Alluka movements were as unpredictable as the wind, and he split into multiple images of himself.
Damn! Killua thought silently to himself. That was a high level assassin technique, one that he had been trying to (unsuccessfully) master before he left home. He glared at Alluka in a new light and tried to clear his head. He told himself steadily that only one of them could be fake, and a simple disruption would shatter the illusion. So he steadied himself, placed himself in the most advantageous spot to unleash his electrical nen. The images rippled like water when a pebble fell in, but Alluka only laughed lightly, and the images instantly sprung back, the younger assassin once again lost within the many splitting images of himself.
Killua settled to defining the real Alluka with his own eyes and chuckled mercilessly when Alluka missed a step in the rhythm and betrayed himself in that fraction of a second. Killua darted forward with his incredible speed and felt Alluka's shirt shredding in his fingernails. But that was all he grasped – just bits of light blue cotton from his brother's collar, and grimaced to see similar claw marks slashed across the lower flaps of his own shirt too. Killua gritted his teeth in frustration – he could hear his friends cheering him on, and the fat pig's mocking taunts. Time to get serious. That was his last shirt that he could actually pull his head through!
Killua and Alluka met in a flurry of blows, trying to find each other's weaknesses, gaps in each other's defence. Alluka's hand flashed like a steel sword, flashing forward almost licking Killua's skin with each swipe. Killua granted and ducked down, surprising his younger brother and lurched forward, his shoulder knocking the wind out of Alluka. The image of Alluka shattered and Killua immediately realized that he had fallen for a trap and without thinking burst forward with his remaining strength, just to miss the executing blow that Alluka launched from behind.
"Killu! Allu! Stop fighting this instant!" they both shuddered, hearing their mother's ear piercing shriek of outrage. She glared at both of them, daring them to defy her word and rush at each other again.
"Alluka!" she reprimanded "You have ruined your brother's shirt!" Kikyou immediately fussed over her favourite son and cooed comforting words whilst Killua looked to his friends for help.
Karen couldn't help but think that she saw a passing glint of disappointment in Alluka's eyes, and she thought that he heard his voice waver slightly when he muttered a passing comment. With slumped shoulders, he was about to turn to leave when his grandpa blocked his path.
"It's good to see you walking again." Zeno patted his grandson's shoulder comfortingly and smiled.
"I can start working straight away." The albino replied eagerly, anxious to please his elders.
"That's ok Allu, we'll gradually have to build up your experience first. Don't worry, you'll be working soon enough." Silva added, clearly impressed with his youngest son's performance when he spied on them from far away.
"It's about lunch time. I'll get the royal chefs to get things started…" Echlan stopped and starred at the large group sitting leisurely on the shallow stone steps basking in the summer sun.
"Is it just me…or?" he gestured for Koran to step forward and peered in fascination.
"Koran! Where have you been in the past hour?" he demanded.
"With respect mentor, I was….I was…" Koran couldn't respond because Illumi had also starred deeply at them all before and requested their silence on the Emperor's course of action to leave the Forbidden Palace against the orders of security. Even if Koran knew what happened an hour ago, he couldn't work his jaw to form the words.
The only reason that Echlan noticed something amiss was due to deep training, sensitivity and well trained inner eye that allowed him see the fine, tight webbing of nen wrapped around not only Koran, but everyone else as well, so well hidden by 'in'. With a fascinated hand, he took hold of the almost intangible nen construct and with an abrupt movement, ripped the web off and let the fine silks of the strange nen construct dangle sickly off his fingers. Koran let out an explosive breath as he found himself free from invisible constraints.
"Oh Killu! Poor baby, you've been manipulated by your brother!" Kikyou sobbed hysterically and savagely helped her son free.
Kamus studied the rapidly fading webs of shimmering gossamer threads in awe.
"Is this it Kikyou? Is this how Illumi controls people?"
"My gods Berenger! You look like you've run a marathon!" Misha exclaimed. The giant who loomed over him was drenched with sweat from head to toe, his muscles contracting in agony and several veins stood up beneath the thick skin.
"He's got those threads all over him too! Hold on Berenger, I'll get rid of those for you." Misha clawed at the web with bony fingers and tried to support the Palace Guardian, who almost collapsed from sheer exhaustion of struggling against the condition imposed on him.
"The Emperor has left the Forbidden Palace." He gasped weakly, wiping the sweat from his brow. Misha almost dropped him in fear.
"Damnit!" he grated. "The rebels are lurking outside like sewer rats! Should we mobilize every guard that we have?" his grey armor rapidly materialized on his shoulders and extended to cover his torso.
"Keep your cool Misha. If we send out the troops, everyone will know something's wrong. If we do nothing, the situation could blow over their heads and the rebels won't notice. Their information network is not extensive as it seems, and I don't think they've got the nerve to hang around the Forbidden Palace." General Kamus quickly ran through the options and possibilities out loud.
"The most important thing to know is who she went with. Berenger, is she alone? Or did she take a maid at least?"
"She went with Illumi." Faust provided, shaking his head as if in an attempt to clear it. "What on earth happened?"
"Illumi?" Echlan blinked. "He's barely alive, let alone be able to walk."
"Uh, correction. He was as healthy as he has usually been when we last saw him." Leorio added.
"He just looked at me and told me to return to my post, and I couldn't say no or hold my ground." Berenger's enormous fist crushed the stone beneath him in frustration as he sat to regain his strength.
"You see what I mean ni-chan!" Kikyou's voice was getting ever the louder and ever the high pitched. "You can't defy his will or his words. If he wanted you to die, you'd rip out your own throat without hesitation."
Misha snapped his fingers in recollection. "Just like that man we saw in Hisoka's memories. Illumi told him to die, and he instantly fell on his sword without question." The fine blue thread gradually disappeared in the wind, and he let the rest slip through his thin fingers. "He imposes a condition, materializes a web that absorbs the person's strength whenever he struggles against the threads, and then controls the nen so that it completely obeys the condition set. It is cruel and at the same time, subtle. I like it."
"Are you saying that he's recovered his natural nen abilities?"
Misha laughed out loud, in a maniacal sort of way. "Then Rudy's safe. Alarm's over and lets sit down and have lunch. I'm starving."
"It does reassure me a bit more, but still, alert all guards on patrol to look out for the Emperor. What did she dress as when – "
A half filled can of beer hit Silva straight in the face without warning.
I won't be updating for the next two weeks…well, maybe not, I'll see how bored I am with my studying *groan*. So enjoy this chapter folks.
Chapter 17
Edmond Striker was only seventeen this year. His hair was unfashionably cropped, blonde to set him apart from all his dark haired peers, and a large nose that frightened away most girls his age. The last he saw his dad was exactly five years ago when his dad joined the war because of some foolish ideal called 'honour and duty'. His thoughts were bitter about his father's decision to leave home. Look where it got him – dead, leaving his wife and two children to fend for themselves. His father had two brothers, another who had died, and the youngest crippled with one leg amputated. His uncle now stayed with him in the Capital, living off the adequate widow benefits that his dear mom received from the State. His dad was Albert 'Eagle-eye' Striker, for before he gave his life and services to the country, he had been a master assassin, a sniper who killed with every shot.
But now he was dead, his body blown to bits by some stray bomb in the midst of the chaos of war, and his life continued. In his home, along the walls hung an array of sniper guns, some antiquated, some were modern and boasted long distances. And Edmond secretly trained himself to be a professional sniper to follow in his father's footsteps.
It was the Coronation festival, which would last until the end of the week, after the Emperor gave her Pledge to the country. And then school would resume, and Edmond would once again be ostracized by his peers for his queer looks and large nose. Not that he minded of course – for assassins don't have friends. His mother and uncle bade him go out this morning to buy some ribbons, nice satin ribbons as a gift to his youngest sister, who was turning seven tomorrow. She was two when father left home.
His anger and bitterness continued to gnaw at him, and he hated every bright colour and banner floating in the cool breeze. His father stupidly gave his life to a haughty child with over idealistic dreams, and so Albert destroyed his entire family. And the gall of the people around them to clap and cheer when the war was barely over, and the graves barely furnished. It was enough to set his blood boiling. Recently, he came into contact with some mysterious people who gave him a most delightful proposition to consider. It involved his skill with a gun.
Gloomily, he reached the respectable house which he called home, passed the front gate and wearily pushed open the door. He glanced back in suspicion as two people, two strangers, pushed past the gateway and slowly approached him.
One was a lanky, skinny teenager bearing the emblem of the Forbidden Palace. The other must be a privileged maid, tall and beautiful, out of the Forbidden Palace for a holiday perhaps, which was rare, but not unheard of. The Emperor was not so attached to tradition as the ones before her. The teenager raised her baseball cap slightly in acknowledgement of Edmond Striker and the maid looked about her without much fascination, idly twirling her luscious black hair in her fine, slim fingers.
"Striker residence?" the teenager asked. Edmond gruffly nodded, unsure.
"Ed, is someone at the door?" he heard his mother's approaching voice. Claire Striker was an ordinary woman, slightly plump due to her age and had graying brown hair tied back in a tight bun. She carried with her an aura of pleasantness and generosity, and a smile which inspired trust from any child.
Rudy, disguised as an Official Deliverer, gave the older woman a slight bow, and Illumi likewise curtsied with the true airs of a serving maid.
"We have a delivery for one Claire Striker? May we come in?" Rudy asked casually, carefully using another tone of voice so that she couldn't be identified.
Edmond reluctantly let them in, his despise for them carefully masked. But Illumi, who had covered his emotions for years on end, noticed immediately and decided to keep a careful eye on the teenager. His eyes immediately flew over the surroundings of the small, cosy house. The living room hidden in some corner, and round table with four chairs tucked neatly inside, and just further back, the kitchen. He was rather impressed by the sniper guns displayed on the walls, and noticed on a small shelf, two spirit tablets, with names engraved. Rudy's small cough bought his attention back to the subject at hand. Claire offered tea, which Rudy refused politely, and another man, a cripple by the name of Alfonse Striker sat down and stared hard at them.
The young Emperor dug into the shoulder bag and carefully produced a tattered and dirty envelop with faded words on the front. You could still clearly make out an address and a name however, and she handed it over to the older woman. Edmond, who stood behind his uncle, leaned forward to get a good glimpse of the letter and gasped.
"It's dad's writing."
Rudy also leaned forward to examine the note. "Striker…is a very familiar name. Would that be Eagle-eye Striker that we are talking about?"
"You know my father?" Edmond asked incredulously.
Rudy silently watched as Claire took the letter out of the envelop with shaking hands and wet eyes. She sat down next to her brother in law so they could both read and study the letter. And by the time they finished, Alfonse's face was impassive and Claire had broken down into small sobs.
"Eagle-eye Striker was a legendary sniper in General Deathstalker's army. He first fought with the Emperor at the old Battlefields of Holt, where this letter was written. However, he survived that encounter and was transferred to Deathstalker's personal division." Rudy glanced at the spirit tablets. "I take it he's not with you anymore."
"No," Claire replied unsteadily, carefully dabbing at her eyes. "He will always be in my heart."
"Do you know…how dad died?" Edmond probed.
Rudy had to choose her words carefully. As Emperor, of course she knew how the legendary Striker died, and in a gloriously heroic way too. But she was now an Imperial Delivery person, so she kept the details strictly vague.
"Why haven't you heard? He saved General Deathstalker's life in the Battle of Runn when his division was cut off from the main army for at least six hours. He fought continuously and broke through the encirclement so that the General could take control of the army again. That was a decisive and much needed victory for it secured Arcadia's eastern front. That was about two years ago. Haven't you been given notice? You should be allowed entry into the Forbidden Palace when the Emperor gives her Pledge – all relatives of those who have been awarded Hero of Arcadia are allowed to be present."
Edmond looked at Rudy incredulously. "Hero of Arcadia? But that's the highest award…"
"And it is the greatest honour. As we know it, General Deathstalker awarded Striker that title posthumously. I will remind Headquaters to send you your invitations immediately. And oh…" she dug into her bag again, and produced some items clearly marked and labeled in clear plastic bags. She laid them neatly on the table.
"Do you recognize any of these articles?"
The items ranged from old watches to wedding rings, wallets, photos and other bits of personal items. Edmond's keen eyes immediately spotted his father's old leather banded watch.
"How did you find his things?" Claire asked, new tears in her eyes again. Rudy coughed politely.
"The Emperor knew that not everyone would make it out of Holt alive that day. So apparently, she got all the troops to write down any last words, just in case, and any other person artifacts that the soldiers wished to leave to their loved ones. They were all carefully sealed and placed in an iron chest and buried, which was recently re-discovered and delivered to the Forbidden Palace. All the other items and letters will be sent in time."
Alfonse Striker, the crippled brother of Albert nodded appreciatively and quickly wiped at the corner of his eye. Rudy stepped forth, hesitantly and looked at Claire.
"Why did your husband join the war?" she asked softly.
Claire gazed back, her eyes unfocused. "He heard the Emperor's rally on the radio one day, and he believed every word she had to say. He said to me, if a child could pick up a shovel and start to dig a trench when the city was under siege whilst everyone else was ready to abandon the city, then he too could lend his services to the country. And I'm proud of what he did because he did not fall down in the country's greatest hour of need. He took his gun and joined the Emperor's rally, and that path led him to glory."
Rudy fought to keep her eyes dry. She turned to the spirit tablets. "May I?"
Alfonse nodded and the Emperor personally lit she fragile sticks of incense and bowed low before those tablets, then stuck the incense into the pot of ash.
"The Emperor said that everyone will be heroes, and that no one will be forgotten." She murmured quietly, as if to herself. "No matter who you were, what you did, be you rapist or murderer, if you have the courage to defend the country with your blood and life, then you are a patriot, and your sins forgiven." Her eyes narrowed slightly, determined not to cry anymore.
"For what is the greatest test of courage and honour than the chaos and terror of the battlefield, the raging inferno of a city gripped by siege and bombing, and to confront enemy tanks without an iota of fear? Your life is the greatest gift to the country, and the Emperor will not forget."
She slowly turned to Edmond. "I see that you are bitter, but know what your father bought for you in return for his life."
In that exact moment, inspiration came to her in a sudden flash, and all of a sudden, the Monk's words made perfect sense to her, and she knew exactly what she would say when she approached the altar and made her everlasting pledge to the nation.
She bowed again to the family and bid them a good day. Illumi dutifully followed her.
Back out in the open, Rudy breathed in deeply. She had finally found the answer to all her troubles, finally understood her problems, and the relief from the burden was refreshing. She looked at the multitude of coloured banners flying in the wind, the gradually increasing din of the people in the capital and saw something that she failed to see before. She brightly smiled up and looked at Illumi.
"I'm hungry. Lets go find something to eat."
Illumi nodded, giving her a small smile to show that he was pleased that she was no longer plagued by unhappiness. He had an answer for her too, and he would give her the most wonderful present.
Edmond's mother gave a small sigh and placed the watch next to her husband's tablet. She gave him a small smile, and went back to the kitchen to fix lunch while Alfonse declared that he would take a walk in the park.
Edmond glanced at the letter and felt his anger and bitterness sway. He was torn with indecision.
~ I give my life to the country, Claire, because duty and honour call. I may be an assassin, but when my kinsmen are murdered en masse, sent to be tortured in concentration camps and subdued into brutal slavery, I can no longer stand back and watch. It is my duty to ensure that my family will meet no harm, and I will not let my son and daughter live in such a cruel and terrible world. May he never know of the horrors of a war like this – and I willingly purchase this with my life. Take care of the children, and tell them to hold their head up high. ~
Slowly, he made his way to the phone and dialed a number.
"Liam, I'm afraid I will not take part in your schemes anymore. Find yourself another sniper." And with that, he hung up the phone and placed the letter neatly under his father's spirit tablet – Albert Striker, awarded Hero of Arcadia. He was not a fool.
===========
Alluka had awoken to a silent room. His back felt slightly numb, slightly raw, slightly tender, and he was afraid to put any more pressure on it then necessary. But his mind, hideously augmented by whatever terrifying ordeal he faced four years ago, allowed him to reach out to his surroundings and found that there was quite a lot of excitement buzzing around.
He ran a mental check of his body's systems, and noticed that some spinal distanglements had been miraculously rectified. He also noticed that the anesthetic that had shut off his mind was already ebbing away, the last traces finally wearing off. That was a good sign. And no matter how tender and delicate his back felt, his mental body scan told him that all was in perfect order, and if half a mountain came crashing down on him right now, he could easily punch his way out and laugh without so much as breathing hard. Whatever experiments had been conducted on him years ago had drastically altered his mind, and he was more than a nen user – he had the extra added capabilities of an esper, utilizing the unfounded mysteries of his brain to channel his thoughts and make them a reality. And so everything and everyone was just another object on his constantly sweeping radar in his mind, and he easily navigated through the endless courtyards, corridors and halls of the Forbidden Palace, perfectly able to visualize his entire surroundings in his mind.
And he liked walking. He found the idea of being attached to the confines of gravity quite assuring, and marveled at the way his legs held up without a single tremble – even after so many years of disuse. He had his brother to thank of course, and believed that he could not have struggled for so many long and eternal years on end with his miserable nightmares had Illumi not been there to comfort him.
His delicate and rather angelic face creased into a slight frown. His brother's presence was not in the Forbidden Palace, but the rest of his family were. Had Illumi fled so abruptly without saying goodbye to him? Had he been the weak and crippled Alluka, he might have cried, but now, he only felt a little regret and sadness, but knew that dad had been terribly angry at Illumi's actions of late, so it might be wise to flee and hide, just for the moment.
He sensed that his older brother Killua was not far off, and with a lot of people around him too, including the other two Zoldick siblings. He grinned slightly. It was time to reveal the new him, the sane, calm and composed Alluka, the professional assassin who was now just a cut above the ordinary humanity with his enhanced psionic powers. But he would hide it for as long as necessary, for it was always wise to have an extra ace up his sleeve that no one else should really know about.
Koran had returned, dragging a limp and unconscious Hisoka with him to the infirmary room where Illumi had been resting before. Only that the Zoldick assassin had already come around, and no one knew where he went. All his brothers and sisters idly sat around on the shallow stone steps, wondering what on earth was happening, and why they had sudden gaps in their memory, and Zuchi continued to practice his hatsu. Koran didn't receive any special orders from his mentor, the old Eunuch busy discussing things with the Generals after the interrogation ended. So he too, sat idly, waiting for some fun, and cast a glance back at Hisoka now and then, just to check when he would wake up.
"Hey Karu, what time is it?" Alluka pleasantly asked, approaching the group easily. Everyone turned and marveled at the way he so gracefully moved, after the years of incapacitation.
"It's late morning, almost twelve." Karuto responded, drawing the doll closer to her. Whatever elation she felt for her brother, she lacked the expression to show. And Milluki sighed with relief and clapped his young brother on the back.
"Glad you're back on your feet, 'xcuse the pun. So Allu, what's the first thing you want to do?"
Alluka pondered on this quietly, and his eyes finally laid on the jewel of the Zoldick family – the successor with supposed talents that the Zoldick had never seen before. He had a quiet mind to quickly rectify everyone's thoughts on that matter – not with his psi powers, but in a real duel. He perfectly raised the corners of his mouth into a mildly amusing and non threatening smile.
"How about it bro" he addressed Killua "you and me, one on one, right here, right now to see who gets to be the Zoldick successor."
Alluka quickly studied the group of people sitting there, and pointed to Koran.
"You are probably the most impartial of us all, having no ties or connections with either of us. You be the judge."
The young eunuch nodded amiably. It was not uncommon to see people honing their martial skills in the Forbidden Palace, and frankly, it was a sport he greatly loved, until it turned tragically dull once Master Echlan bought his skills to an entire new level and everyone was just so beneath him these days.
"Alluka, are you sure?" Leorio regarded him with concern. "You've just recovered from your operation, and I think you shouldn't be exerting myself."
"Of course I won't be exerting myself." Alluka replied simply, the insult fully intended. He quickly added "And I feel great. My body is telling me that everything's fine, and nothing short of dad can really hurt me." And dad probably couldn't hurt me, unless he really tried, he silently added.
Killua stood up in a humph of angry airs, and moments later, two albino children were cautiously circling the other, penetrating eyes searching for any possible weaknesses in each other's stance. Koran nodded appreciatively.
"Not bad" he casually muttered, and motioned for them to fight.
Killua naturally thought that he had the upper hand in speed over Alluka, his younger brother having barely returned to using his legs. But he soon realized that he was wrong…terribly wrong. Alluka movements were as unpredictable as the wind, and he split into multiple images of himself.
Damn! Killua thought silently to himself. That was a high level assassin technique, one that he had been trying to (unsuccessfully) master before he left home. He glared at Alluka in a new light and tried to clear his head. He told himself steadily that only one of them could be fake, and a simple disruption would shatter the illusion. So he steadied himself, placed himself in the most advantageous spot to unleash his electrical nen. The images rippled like water when a pebble fell in, but Alluka only laughed lightly, and the images instantly sprung back, the younger assassin once again lost within the many splitting images of himself.
Killua settled to defining the real Alluka with his own eyes and chuckled mercilessly when Alluka missed a step in the rhythm and betrayed himself in that fraction of a second. Killua darted forward with his incredible speed and felt Alluka's shirt shredding in his fingernails. But that was all he grasped – just bits of light blue cotton from his brother's collar, and grimaced to see similar claw marks slashed across the lower flaps of his own shirt too. Killua gritted his teeth in frustration – he could hear his friends cheering him on, and the fat pig's mocking taunts. Time to get serious. That was his last shirt that he could actually pull his head through!
Killua and Alluka met in a flurry of blows, trying to find each other's weaknesses, gaps in each other's defence. Alluka's hand flashed like a steel sword, flashing forward almost licking Killua's skin with each swipe. Killua granted and ducked down, surprising his younger brother and lurched forward, his shoulder knocking the wind out of Alluka. The image of Alluka shattered and Killua immediately realized that he had fallen for a trap and without thinking burst forward with his remaining strength, just to miss the executing blow that Alluka launched from behind.
"Killu! Allu! Stop fighting this instant!" they both shuddered, hearing their mother's ear piercing shriek of outrage. She glared at both of them, daring them to defy her word and rush at each other again.
"Alluka!" she reprimanded "You have ruined your brother's shirt!" Kikyou immediately fussed over her favourite son and cooed comforting words whilst Killua looked to his friends for help.
Karen couldn't help but think that she saw a passing glint of disappointment in Alluka's eyes, and she thought that he heard his voice waver slightly when he muttered a passing comment. With slumped shoulders, he was about to turn to leave when his grandpa blocked his path.
"It's good to see you walking again." Zeno patted his grandson's shoulder comfortingly and smiled.
"I can start working straight away." The albino replied eagerly, anxious to please his elders.
"That's ok Allu, we'll gradually have to build up your experience first. Don't worry, you'll be working soon enough." Silva added, clearly impressed with his youngest son's performance when he spied on them from far away.
"It's about lunch time. I'll get the royal chefs to get things started…" Echlan stopped and starred at the large group sitting leisurely on the shallow stone steps basking in the summer sun.
"Is it just me…or?" he gestured for Koran to step forward and peered in fascination.
"Koran! Where have you been in the past hour?" he demanded.
"With respect mentor, I was….I was…" Koran couldn't respond because Illumi had also starred deeply at them all before and requested their silence on the Emperor's course of action to leave the Forbidden Palace against the orders of security. Even if Koran knew what happened an hour ago, he couldn't work his jaw to form the words.
The only reason that Echlan noticed something amiss was due to deep training, sensitivity and well trained inner eye that allowed him see the fine, tight webbing of nen wrapped around not only Koran, but everyone else as well, so well hidden by 'in'. With a fascinated hand, he took hold of the almost intangible nen construct and with an abrupt movement, ripped the web off and let the fine silks of the strange nen construct dangle sickly off his fingers. Koran let out an explosive breath as he found himself free from invisible constraints.
"Oh Killu! Poor baby, you've been manipulated by your brother!" Kikyou sobbed hysterically and savagely helped her son free.
Kamus studied the rapidly fading webs of shimmering gossamer threads in awe.
"Is this it Kikyou? Is this how Illumi controls people?"
"My gods Berenger! You look like you've run a marathon!" Misha exclaimed. The giant who loomed over him was drenched with sweat from head to toe, his muscles contracting in agony and several veins stood up beneath the thick skin.
"He's got those threads all over him too! Hold on Berenger, I'll get rid of those for you." Misha clawed at the web with bony fingers and tried to support the Palace Guardian, who almost collapsed from sheer exhaustion of struggling against the condition imposed on him.
"The Emperor has left the Forbidden Palace." He gasped weakly, wiping the sweat from his brow. Misha almost dropped him in fear.
"Damnit!" he grated. "The rebels are lurking outside like sewer rats! Should we mobilize every guard that we have?" his grey armor rapidly materialized on his shoulders and extended to cover his torso.
"Keep your cool Misha. If we send out the troops, everyone will know something's wrong. If we do nothing, the situation could blow over their heads and the rebels won't notice. Their information network is not extensive as it seems, and I don't think they've got the nerve to hang around the Forbidden Palace." General Kamus quickly ran through the options and possibilities out loud.
"The most important thing to know is who she went with. Berenger, is she alone? Or did she take a maid at least?"
"She went with Illumi." Faust provided, shaking his head as if in an attempt to clear it. "What on earth happened?"
"Illumi?" Echlan blinked. "He's barely alive, let alone be able to walk."
"Uh, correction. He was as healthy as he has usually been when we last saw him." Leorio added.
"He just looked at me and told me to return to my post, and I couldn't say no or hold my ground." Berenger's enormous fist crushed the stone beneath him in frustration as he sat to regain his strength.
"You see what I mean ni-chan!" Kikyou's voice was getting ever the louder and ever the high pitched. "You can't defy his will or his words. If he wanted you to die, you'd rip out your own throat without hesitation."
Misha snapped his fingers in recollection. "Just like that man we saw in Hisoka's memories. Illumi told him to die, and he instantly fell on his sword without question." The fine blue thread gradually disappeared in the wind, and he let the rest slip through his thin fingers. "He imposes a condition, materializes a web that absorbs the person's strength whenever he struggles against the threads, and then controls the nen so that it completely obeys the condition set. It is cruel and at the same time, subtle. I like it."
"Are you saying that he's recovered his natural nen abilities?"
Misha laughed out loud, in a maniacal sort of way. "Then Rudy's safe. Alarm's over and lets sit down and have lunch. I'm starving."
"It does reassure me a bit more, but still, alert all guards on patrol to look out for the Emperor. What did she dress as when – "
A half filled can of beer hit Silva straight in the face without warning.