Chapter 25
Rudy awoke at exactly one o'clock that afternoon, on the soft mattress of the infirmary bed, her head resting on a well fluffed pillow. The wooden shutters were pulled back wide open, allowing her to gaze up at the wondrously calm and warm blue sky. A flock of birds flew by, gliding and soaring on the winds beneath their feathered wings. How grand the view must be from up above, Rudy thought with a resigned sigh. With much effort, she heaved herself into a sitting position to peer out the window and feel the breeze caress and kiss her cheeks and strain her ears to catch the sounds of activity from the palace grounds.
Down below, people frantically scuttled back and forth with bricks and mortar, stones and long wooden beams and pillars whilst several cranes of rather small stature were busy digging up the rubble onto the backs of trucks to be shipped off. Rudy vaguely noticed that the place was devoid of the dead bodies, meaning she was fortunate to have woken late enough to miss that gruesome task.
"Ah! Sire, you are awake!" she heard the chorus of relieved and cheerful voices behind her and smiled wanly at the ground of Imperial Doctors, headed by Faust himself. They immediately went down on one knee in greeting and intoned the correct and formal words.
"I take it that my Pledge will have to wait until about next week, given the damage done to the Forbidden Palace?" she asked immediately. Faust quickly stood up and dusted himself.
"Unfortunately so, sire, but it just gives the people another excuse to extend their holidays."
Rudy's eyes drooped slightly. "What is there to celebrate? Tell me, how many people died on the streets last night when the Nihilists unleashed their madness machine?"
Faust elegantly cleared his throat. "Surprisingly few sire. Many thanks to the Guardian's prophecy, civilian casualties were much less than expected as we were prepared to restrain the mad ones rather than to kill. However, that means the damage to the city was quite…well, substantial. I'm sure General Kamus will give you a much more detailed and thorough report."
The Emperor laughed. "A city can be rebuilt. You cannot bring back the dead. That's all that matters. Well then, with that piece of news aside, anything else I should know now or do I wet my pants later?"
All the doctors chuckled in good humor at the joke and Faust cleared his throat again.
"The other most pressing information is that Illumi-san has gone. He disappeared whilst everyone was busy looking for their family members or cleaning out the courtyards. The Forbidden Palace currently has more than one thousand people working to rebuild the damaged rooms, so no one noticed when Illumi-san made his departure. Of course, in his room, Karen-chan found several items, all neatly named. There is a gift for you."
"A gift?" Rudy turned back out to the window and gazed up at the sky one last time – the way she and Illumi had briefly done whilst they sat atop the roof of the Throne Room, then recalled her mixed feelings towards his newly discovered self last night and felt pangs of regret. She regretted that he had to leave – because of the challenge he posed by merely being here, a natural nen user with royal lineage – and she regretted that she now had to be alone again. She felt a part of her soul dying off, passing away as yet again, another spark in her life diminished, never to be return. But that was the fate of the Emperor of course – Emperors could have no friends because one day, fate and destiny would stir their sticky fingers and tear the best of friends apart. Best to end whatever they might have had now before either of them were seriously hurt. That was the fate of all Emperors, alone for all eternity with nothing to sustain them except their burning passion to serve the country. In return, an Emperor only asked to be loved by their people, to be hailed as a good Emperor and that they would nicely remember her in their history books. That was her fate. That is what she chose and so set was her course that to struggle and deny the path was unthinkable.
She was crying, again. She was such a big baby. No more tears – she told herself – no more tears. Quickly rubbing her eyes, she turned back to the doctors and forced a smile.
"I'll receive it now. Where is it?"
"There were instructions – that the gift was not to be opened until after your Pledge sire." Faust bowed low, knowing that his announcement of Illumi's departure had upset his master. It was the best apology he could make.
"Very well. I'm going to inspect the reconstruction of certain parts of the Palace – as well as conduct a tour around the city later this afternoon. Where are my robes?"
"Oh no!" one of the other imperial doctors spoke up immediately with tones of franticness. "Sire, you must have some more rest and food. We recommend that you rest until tomorrow morning at least. The Device hurt a lot of places inside you body – please have regard to your health sire." They all knelt down again, well informed of her natural stubbornness and general disregard for the limitations imposed by her mortal body. Given her physical condition, it was a good sign that she was awake already. Had Karen been a few minutes later, it was uncertain whether the Emperor would recover from the coma at all – but even as the young woman arrived beside the body of her fallen lord, Rudy was still barely conscious, listening to the whisperings in the wind, feeling the vibrations of battle from the ground. Rudy was determined to be strong the day she led the defence at Shandrakor five years ago, but sometimes, one just had to admit and accept one's weakness in order to recognize and play out one's strengths even more.
No more big baby –no more tantrums, no more crying Rudy steadily thought to herself. You will do as you are told and you will not scream or yell at anyone. Giving another nod, she hoped back into bed and pulled the covers up to her chest and made it abundantly clear that she was not going to leave the bed.
"So, where's my lunch then?" she beamed, looking expectantly at them all.
Faust would have rushed up to engulf her in a suffocating
embrace for all the pride he felt for his Emperor, but because she was
his Emperor, he kept his hands strictly to himself and simply responded
in a voice thick with emotion: " Coming right away, sire."
Kamus stared steadily at the man seated opposite him on the long mahogany table, torn wondering if his Emperor had been mad and the relief that he didn't have to kill the man.
"I'll have you assigned to work under me so that I can constantly keep an eye on you. You realize that you won't be trusted for a substantial time and that many people will be angry and even violent towards you." He began slowly.
"But you will have your uses. You were one of the best administrators of the generation – we could find several municipalities for you to govern. That will be sometime in the near future. Until then, you will be my second in command."
Liam, dressed in his new uniform of jet black and silver, seated stiffly and awkwardly in his chair nodded attentively. He studied the man across him – Kamus Kalinnan Kastro – the General who defended the North Gate had grown another handful of premature white hairs from the previous night, and it starkly showed against Kamus' still healthy and dark hair. If the man was tired, he didn't show it. Obviously used to it, Liam thought grimly, especially during those long strategy discussions during the war and overseeing operations where all the Generals would work for days on end without rest.
"Our first task is to assess and record the damage done to the Palace and City. I will be personally in charge of the Palace. You will take my second Lieutenant and survey the city. Start with the public buildings – hospitals, schools, fire stations, police stations and other governmental agency buildings first. Then dispatch people to help you record other damage down to other public property – I fear the national park will have to be re-planted. You will compile a detailed list of lamp posts and electricity lines which have been disrupted and names of roads which will need to be re-paved. Proceed thus, then document the number of personal homes destroyed or vandalized, track down any insurance companies who have to pay out and we'll see if the state has to offer what assistance it may give for the other houses."
"Yes General." Liam intoned. He still silently marveled in his mind at the sharp change of events, and the fact that he was still alive, and would, in five minutes time, be out on the streets recording down every scrap of damage that he had intermediately contributed to. Kamus was right – people on the streets would see him as the ex-rebel leader, the one who had crashed their wonderful party last night and left half the city in smoking ruins, not to mention the sacred and beloved Forbidden Palace, the home to the Emperor whom they revered to certain degrees of zealousness. In the infirmary, whilst he was getting changed into his new uniform, a boy around seventeen, with a highly unfashionable bowl haircut and an overly large nose, approached him with a solemn expression on his freckled face.
"Edmond Striker." He acknowledged briefly, then concentrated on slipping the buttons into their corresponding holes.
The boy was hesitant. He had met the man before him on a previous occasion – and that dark occasion was to plan and plot the assassination of the Emperor. Now, the same man sat before him, dressed in the very same uniform as the rest of the Arcadian soldiers with a resigned air clinging like a heavy burden about his broad and powerful shoulders. Liam was an impressive man – a well spoken, charismatic and smart man who knew what his strengths were. An impressive and powerful man, bought down from his lofty perch of leader of the rebellion by a fourteen year old girl and her few words. Edmond wanted to confront Liam when he heard Illumi declare that Liam had recognized the error of his ways. He wanted to justify to the man why he had withdrawn from their plans at the last minute. But suddenly, he didn't know what to say – to a man more than twice his age, who had seen a lifetime of bitterness and spent half of it in a futile, bloody and savage struggle. A man who now seemed content to be told what to do – he had none of the former magnetism which inspired and attracted Edmond to him in the first place. His throat constricted.
"The Emperor…is a good person." He mutely groaned at his own lame statement, but seriously, what could he say that Liam hadn't already experienced or heard in his lifetime already? He swallowed the lump in his throat and tried again, determined to hold the gaze of the man who now returned his stare with a look that was mingled partly with curiosity and partly in somber patience.
"The Emperor doesn't take us for granted. She really wants to do what is best for us. She really does. The Emperor came to my house the other day – "
Liam suddenly looked alarmed. "So they had known of our plans back then already?"
"No no!" the teenager quickly said. "The Emperor came around with Miss Arammi the other day to return some of my father's items and a note he had written to my mother during the war."
The blond man's flat gaze prompted him to continue. Edmond swallowed again.
"Would you be surprised to know that my father was an assassin – almost a rival to the Zoldick family business? He couldn't care less about some city five hundred miles away that was burning to the ground, nor would he have raised a hand to help defend a bunch of weaklings. I thought he was a fool to go off to war and abandon his own family and children to die for someone who he didn't know. I was angry at the Emperor for taking my father away from me – so angry, that I willingly participated in your plans."
Edmond tried to restrain his trembling and shaking to a bare minimum, but he had to say it. For a brief moment during the bloody insurrection, he felt and understood what his father had gone through.
"Duty, honour, and glory Liam – that's what we all live and die for. When we die, there is nothing that we can take with us, except such wondrous memories and experiences. The Emperor offered her army honour and glory, a chance to be remembered and cherished. It takes courage damnit, not foolishness, to carry the heavy mantle of duty. Not everyone can have this prize, Liam – you have to earn it with your life! As was my father – who died for a man I never met until last night, commanding the battalion of Sky Cruisers above the city – General Deathstalker. And do you know what my father felt was his duty and greatest honour and glory that he would willingly give his life for?"
Liam absorbed every passionate word the boy had to say, and he was speechless. He dumbly shook his head and tried to keep his eyes dry.
"His duty was towards his family – and his honour and greatest glory was to be a part of the greater victory – so that my mother and sister, who's only seven – could experience such simple pleasures as tying satin ribbons in her hair and then running out of the house to show them off to her friends at the park. And the Emperor will not forget my father for creating another small miracle of happiness in Greater Arcadia. Now do you see why I had to turn away from your plans? If you were successful, I would have killed the person my father most trusted and respected, and I would have killed and destroyed whatever he had paid his life for."
Hot tears stung his eyes and Edmond couldn't give a damn whether Liam saw it or not. He ploughed on to the last phrase.
"And if ever I find that you still entertain ideas of disposing King Rodimostev Alanis Kalinnan III, so help me god, I will track you down to the ends of the earth, and when I find you, you will scream for a long time."
Liam looked at him for some time, then with a sigh, he heaved himself off the bed. He patted Edmond's shoulder and nodded stiffly, unable and unwilling to meet the youth's fiery passion in his eyes which he once had, but had long ago been extinguished by unbearable grief.
"Good. Make sure you kill me before I can ever hurt the Emperor. I charge you with that task."
And with that, he hurriedly strode out of the infirmary to find Kamus. Apparently, the other man had finished giving his commands and Liam's own feet, unbeknownst to him, had already guided him to the door. General Kamus hand was about to reach the door knob but he hesitated. He withdrew his hand and wondered what he should do.
"Gah! To hell with the formalities – welcome back!" he cried out loud and pulled the stunned blond haired man into a rough embrace.
"Damn you man – have you ever thought how painful it would have been for me to hunt down and kill the man whom my sister most loved? Did you ever care how I felt all these years ever since you declared yourself to be a rebel?"
"Sorry Kamus, I really am." Liam softly replied, returning the man's hug. His words were sincere and genuine.
"To hell with the apologies. To hell with everything. It's so good to have you back – "
The door abruptly swung open and Misha loudly barged in with heavy strides, every action communicating his casual disregard for all authority or common courtesies such as knocking. His lean and gaunt face had been scrubbed free of every bit of blood and grime that had accumulated through the night, his short hair had been thoroughly washed as well. His coat was clean and spotless, an immaculate black with electric purple lining to accentuate the flambouyancy and general deviancy of his character and around his neck dangled a polished, five pointed star attached to a black velvet choker. He slapped his hand against his forehead, covered his eyes and groaned loudly in disgust.
"Errgh – two big men hugging and crying in broad daylight!? I've entered the wrong dimension or something!" he exclaimed aghast and stepped back out as quickly and abruptly as he had strode in, but Kamus hastily lashed out and firmly held the door open. He looked almost sardonically at the mad General.
"Cut me some slack and room for sentimentality. Unlike you Misha, I happen to have friends." He slung his arm around Liam's shoulder in a brotherly fashion and they all laughed full heartedly in good nature. The younger General of the three regarded Liam with an enigmatic and mysterious look of lunacy in his eyes.
"So you're Liam." He began in a most intimidating manner. His dark black eyes trailed slowly up and down the man. Liam gulped and involuntarily took a step back. The eyes alone made him feel like he had been subject to a fully personal body inspection, naked and vulnerable before the unstable and unpredictable man before him.
"I never got to fight you." He said in a rather accusatory manner. "Perhaps we could get together sometime and – "
Kamus quickly pushed and shoved Misha out of the doorway and ushered Liam out as well before the provocation could be fully uttered by the irresponsible young man. Liam stood aside and patiently, quietly waited whilst he watched the strange banter and scuffling between the two men just some short distance off.
"Could you keep your trap shut for now?!" Kamus hissed, physically having to pull Misha back. The mad general let out a soft growl. His voice began to adopt a rather hysterical and urgent tone.
"Let go of me damnit. I want to have a piece of him! I didn't get to see any real action last night. You guys all got to fight the elite soldiers – I got the useless trash with guns! Guns against a nen user?! Leggo! Leggo!"
"Urgh Misha! Would you get a grip on your insanity? Listen to me – oh this is pointless!" Kamus rolled his eyes in exasperation and turned around to Liam, Misha still firmly under his control but struggling madly against them. "You get going with your task and find my second ok? I've got to…OW!!"
Kamus let out a bark of pain and pulled back his hand as if he had been scalded with boiling water. He looked down in horror and astonishment at the teeth marks and blood flowing freely from the wound on his hand. "You bit me!" he roared incredulously at the giggling madman who then launched a kick to Kamus' midriff then quick like a purple streak of lightening, he raced past him to Liam and punched the blonde man squarely in the jaw sending Liam back at least a couple of paces. Kamus by now had completely lost his cool – he had not only been bitten, but also kicked whilst he was defenceless and the man who had committed the acts was laughing deliriously, adding insult to his injuries.
"MISHA!!" he roared with rage after the fleeing man whose black coat tails billowed dramatically behind him.
"Well, why are you standing there Liam?! Help me catch that crazy bastard!" Kamus shouted, then without waiting took off after the mad General. Stunned, for the third time that day, he nodded and followed.
Rudy heard a familiar, outrageous laughter devoid of sanity
float up through her window to reach her ears. Peering cautiously out the
window, leaning on her wooden ledge, she spied General Misha – the youngest
general out of the ten – madly racing past the infirmary with two older
men not far behind, arms frantically waving, shouting out obscenities and
threats.
"Hisoka," Koran shifted his crouch so that he was closer to the other man. "you do realize that we are supposed to be in the infirmary resting. We ARE injured you know."
"Keep you voice down!" the other man sharply hissed, but also shifted so that both of them were now squatting beside each other in the pitch black darkness. In an almost barely audible whisper, he continued, "We can't let him know that we are here. Now, how long has it been since we last did this."
Koran's voice was reprimanding and slightly cutting. "We were nine! Don't you ever grow up? You are twenty seven now – twenty seven! Gods – why do I let you persuade me to do such stupid things again?"
"Pass over that container please. Ah, why thank you Koran." There was the sound of paper cracking, a slight tear and then a series of gulping noises. "Here, this one is simply superb. A sip of this, and you'll remember why you let me persuade you."
This was followed by more sounds of swallowing and the breaking of several other paper seals. Not long after, both men were giggling softly between themselves and drinking out of large, ceramic urns, relishing on the spicy sweetness of the liquor inside, concealed and artfully hidden by the darkness around them.
That was until the door to the wine cellar was flung open with the full force of Master Echlan's nen behind it and sunlight spilled in like white molten liquid, forcibly ripping the cover of darkness from their clutches. Momentarily blinded and only hearing the Master Eunuch's enraged roar, both men screamed like girls in fear.
"Ah-ha! I KNEW you would be in here!" Echlan bellowed with uncompromising determination to punish them.
"Run for it!" they both screamed at each other, kicking
over the jugs and ran further into the dark cellar to try to hide behind
the larger breweries. But the last they saw, before they got very far,
was the delicate but deadly pink silks of the Master Eunuch wrap mercilessly
around them from head to toe.
"Back on whale island, we had really pretty bee-butterflies – they had the sting of bees but the bodies of butterflies, and emerged from their cocoons during the warmer months of July."
"Oh really? Pretty creatures did you say? But doesn't that mean that they are very vulnerable in their cocoons?"
Gon shook his head, but like Killua, his eyes never left the subject matter, strung up high above on the beams.
"No – they were concealed quite conspicuously so you actually had to be looking for them if you wanted to see one. These however…"
"Look more like a showpiece – hey Gon, I think we ARE meant to see them."
Gon frowned and hummed a bit. "I think you are right. I mean, observe the bright and vivid colours of their cocoons – pink! I don't think that would camouflage that nicely in the wild. In fact, I have reason to believe that they would be pretty susceptible."
"OH FOR GODS SAKES! WOULD YOU KIDS STOP GAWKING AND GET US DOWN!" Hisoka shrilly screamed, fighting in vain against his bonds which had him and Koran suspended from the highest beam in one of the untouched and undamaged rooms in the Forbidden Palace. The silk was actually delicate material, a flimsy stretch of gauze that was usually sewn on the top of the main body of clothing to give the ethereal and floating effect. However, since Echlan had reinforced them with his nen, and inscribed a few nen-restricting runes on the insides of the silk, they were, in short, totally hopeless and unable to break free. Koran had long ago resigned himself to his fate and now dozed lightly, enjoying the sensations of rocking back and forth. His friend on the other hand, was most uncomfortable with the two children staring wide eyed at him and discussing about some insect on some remote island.
Killua chuckled wickedly. "I don't think so Hisoka. If Master Echlan put you up there, he would have a legitimate reason, and frankly, I am not going to develop the habit of questioning his reasoning."
"Then go discuss your bee-butterflies somewhere else!" the magician screeched, clearly in a foul mood.
"Killua – Hisoka's helpless right now, isn't he?" Gon asked.
"I suppose he is. If his nen wasn't being cut off, he would have discarded those silks by now. Why?"
Gon produced from his pocket a small, cylindrical object.
"No, you see, it's just that I have this black texta…"
"KORAN! Snap out of it! They are going to deface us!" Hisoka's struggles renewed with twice as much effort. Koran merely continued swinging rocking back and forth like a bird perched on a mildly waving branch in the stiff breeze on a warm summers day. Nothing could break the overpowering peace that he had forcibly pulled over his head. He found that if he was to live longer without the threat of high blood pressure, he might as well get used to being humiliated. And besides – it was all Hisoka's fault – so if the kids held a grudge towards the man, let them deface him, he was happily rocking back and forth, back and forth. So like the good, helpful best friend that he was, he gave his friend the most practical piece of advice.
"Hush Hisoka, hush." He said rather dreamily, a small, self satisfied and content smile on his face.
Hisoka never realized that he would feel so grateful to see the Master Eunuch energetically stride into the room and chase the two children away with his mere presence alone. A large, black book was under one arm, but a harsh and penetrating glare on his face.
"I would punish you some more, but reluctant as I am to let you down, I am acting under far superior orders than my petty urges to deal retribution." He made a few gestures in the air with his free hand, and the silks automatically loosened, releasing their prey from their deadly embrace. Hisoka and Koran both landed gracefully on their feet. Without another word, Echlan led them back to another room with tables and chair set. They all took their seat, and the Master Eunuch carefully laid the book on the table.
"Here it is – Imrahldis' Legacy. I didn't realize that it was written by the First Emperor's brother." Echlan commented, gently blowing the dust off the ebony cover. Gold lining of the book immediately shone through, its sheen not dulled through the centuries.
Hisoka was sitting in the brightest corner of the building where the large window allowed as much sunshine to spill its warmth and light onto the table. Koran sat beside him, equally fascinated by the book and wondered why his mentor had been ordered to retrieve the book for him with such urgency when he should have been attending to the Emperor.
"You didn't meet Prince Jordan last night – he is or was a most formidable and unfathomable man. Before he departed, I was instructed to bring this book to your attention Hisoka. What its contents are I am unfamiliar with, so, will you now do us the honours?"
The cold knot in his stomach was becoming increasingly discomforting. The book alone seemed to be whispering a thousand things to him all at once and he had difficulty picking out the individual voices to understand what they were trying to say to him. There was overwhelming knowledge of some sort stored in the book, and the sheer intensity of what it represented shook Hisoka to the very bones. But still, he reached out and flipped open the cover, then in a slow voice free from the shaking and tremors he felt, he began to read out loud.
"Prologue – to whom it may concern: You are currently reading the own words of Jordan Romanov Kalinnan – but call me Imrahldis. I do like that name so much better. If you are reading this book, then it's because you are looking for answers – answers to your miserable life, which I must confess, I had an indirect hand in."
Echlan, seated opposite them, pursed his lips in thought and Koran just looked plain puzzled. He urged Hisoka to keep reading.
"You should know a bit about me first – I am the founder of the Kalinnan dynasty. I'm sure my gracious brother has taken all the credit – but that does not bother me. I overthrew the Wardien dynasty, because I can, and because I wanted everyone else to know that I could."
"Wonderful man isn't he?" Koran noted dryly, clearly not impressed.
"Hush – continue Hisoka-chan."
"If you turn the pages, you will be presented with a recollection of the day in which the last Wardien King was finally dethroned, and it will in part, provide an answer to the life you have led so far. If you are reading my words, then you must have been directed by me – because only two people should ever lay their eyes on these words. True, I was the most powerful man to have ever graced the Kalinnan family and as much as I can say, I never regretted a thing that I did, nor did I ever suffer a moment of insecurity. I can look at this world with arrogance and pride, mockery and judgement, because I have fully conquered it.
But there was one event in my life which I cannot fully account for, nor did I have full control over – and here, I commit such a blemish in my life to paper. Turn the page, if you dare, and find out the truth about your life."
"Make contact with the book Hisoka," Echlan calmly intoned. "I think your hatsu will activate what memories his majesty may have recorded in here. It is not an uncommon method of information storage."
Hisoka looked at both of them strangely, an unknown and never seen before intensity in his eyes. Just then, Koran realized that in his brief reunion with his childhood friend, he had never really got to ask Hisoka just how his life had been since he let the Forbidden Palace or on the occasion that he did ask, Hisoka always found a convenient way to change the subject. He had no idea – and this book was going to tell him now – a book written almost a millennia ago.
Hisoka's nen flowed over the book, and almost painfully, an image formed in their minds.
"Ch…" Jordan grunted, struggling to retain his balance in his mighty and impressive folds of his black robes. Echlan recognized the weapon in the young man's hand – the elegantly shaped weapon of despair, a powerfully destructive weapon with deceptive appearances. Around him lay mountains of rubble and debris, dust and blood soaked ground littered and heaped with bodies of the dead. For what seemed to be miles on end, there was not a soul in sight, the courtyards lay in ghostly silence, the Forbidden Palace completely emptied and abandoned (or dead), saved for the combatants who remained.
Jordan swept his weapon in a big arc in front of him, sending out torrents of wind, so fast and sharp that it cut through the very earth, leaving great and tearing rents in the ground throwing up all bricks, stone, mortar and bodies caught in his path and hit its target with a sickeningly wet sucking sound.
The last Wardien King was an daunting man – well built, slightly stocky, but had enough muscle and strength to scare off most foes with a deadly glare alone. His once expensive and finely cut robes had been torn and shredded in many places, and blood was seeping from a particularly nasty wound on his side.
Then another man appeared, a man, tall, lithely muscular, with a crop of plain brown hair slickly brushed back and dressed in simple, plain coloured clothes. His skin was a pale ivory, and his face was lean and gaunt. A narrow pair of ice blue eyes dominated his features and the very chill in his look could burn skin. In his hands however, was a sword with a curved tip – the blade was a dull grey, made of strange metal that glowed unnaturally brightly when it came in contact with blood. His name was Haldier – a vagabound, a wanderer, a man of high martial arts skill, journeying the earth with no master, obeying no one's will or law. He fought here, against the last Wardien King, only because the king had become corrupted and he had seen enough suffering around him in his travels to know that the life was rapidly seeping out of the Wardien Dynasty. And he would deal the last blow for all the innocent, hapless people who unnecessarily died due to the corruption that ran rife in the bureaucracy during the last years of the Wardien Dynasty. Without hesitation or pity, his blade rose and fell, biting through flesh, muscle and bone.
The King awkwardly retreated, receiving a mortal wound but he would not his enemies the satisfaction of his cry of pain. He fell onto his backside and sat unnaturally still, feeling blood start to seep into his lungs. In minutes, he would drown in his own blood and he gazed in hate at the two devils and monsters before him. One was dressed fancily, like the wealthy son and himself a scholar, but obviously not so. His image was not unfamiliar for he was the General who led the people's rebellion against him who sat at the head of all armies on his black stallion, proud and confident. The other was a man who gazed at him steadily, to make sure that he was going to die – a harsh, cruel and unforgiving man.
"Shall I do the honours, stranger?" Prince Jordan coyly asked, striding forward with an easy pace and an easy and casual demeanor about him. Even as he was about to personally deal out the collapse of the Wardien dynasty around him, he was still cool, not flustered, unaffected by the weight of the circumstances that would have crushed and procrastinated a lesser man.
The king gave them a nasty smile, showing bloody teeth.
"Don't think you will live happily ever after boys. By this Device," he held up the circular crystal in his fisted hand, bright, white light steadily seeping from his bloodied and dirtied fingers. He coughed blood violently, but was determined to finish his speech.
"By this Device, I damn your next lives to…to a private hell, the same hell you created for me at the end of my life, a life… of despair and loneliness…a life where you will have nothing, own nothing – "
Both Jordan and Haldier's blades pierced through the King's eyes, but the damage had been done. They felt something touch their souls briefly, a kind of weight which briefly tied them down, then fluttered off into the endless distance.
Jordan scowled harshly, kicking the dead man's corpse to vent out his frustration.
"Damn my next life will you?" he vehemently growled, but savagely refrained from further acts of outrage. He stood back calmly, thinking, his brilliant, sharp and incisive mind already producing ways to overcome the curse.
"What is your name, stranger?" he asked.
"Haldier – no one in particular." The other man studied him with cautious scrutiny.
"And you may call me Imrahldis, although my official name is Jodan Romanov Kalinnan. I'm Renard's quite capable brother."
The other man nodded. Jordan was slightly disappointed that the man displayed no other visible reaction or at least a look of awe but went ahead.
"You heard what that man just said – he damned our next lives to utter solitude and isolation."
"A private hell indeed. You think you can prevent this?"
Jordan laughed out loud with haughtiness and a great mocking for the world that tried to pull his strings. He quelled his laughter, and his voice was harshly strained. "Of course I do – I always do." He went forward and picked up the bloody pendant from the dead man's fingers and almost sneered at it as it lay so innocently in his left palm. He bit his right index finger savagely until it bled freely. He gestured for Haldier to do the same.
"We overcome the curse by swearing a pact and seal it with our blood. Haldier, would you care to spend your next life with me, forever, a life long partner to overcome the curse that has befallen us on this day?"
The man quietly studied the Device in Jordan's left hand and thought about it. "You mean to say that we use the same Device, and make another pledge – that we will meet and become friends in our next life so that we can overcome and break free from the lifelong despair and loneliness just cursed upon us."
Jordan gave a firm nod. Haldier crisply clicked his fingers.
"Accepted."
And so with their bloody hand, they clasped the device between their palms and swore.
"I, Jordan Romanov Kalinnan/Haldier pledge, by my blood, to become blood brothers in this life and to let this bond continue onto our next life – tied by this blood oath forever – to meet again in our next life and relive this link – now and forever."
And the Device flared so brightly that both had to squint their eyes shut and turn away. It was a while before they dared to open their eyes, fearing that they would be blinded by the brilliant white light. By that time however, the Device was just another blood tainted pendant. Imrahldis let out a careful sigh whilst Haldier chuckled, bending over to pick up his sword and return it to its rightful sheath on his back. He gave a chuckle.
"Well, that's that. I got to kill a king to day, be cursed and damned in my next life, and become blood brothers with the great and cunning Imrahldis himself. Just another day's work. I'll be seeing you then – best to put some distance between now since we'll be spending all of our next life together."
Haldier just turned a left, in the most un-dramatic and anti-climatic fashion that you could think of. Jordan watched the fading figure with some amusement at the days events and conceded that it was just all in a day's work. He laughed aloud again – he felt that he had cheated fate over and over, and today was just another weak attempt to control him. His exhilarated laugh rang throughout the ruins of the Forbidden Palace, loud, clear and victorious. Another speck in the horizon gradually grew in size – a soldier was riding forth to meet him.
"Your majesty, is the Wardien King dead?"
"Yes, yes," Imrahldis quickly dismissed the man's words or the importance of the statement, his mind completely fascinated and preoccupied by far more interesting matters. "I have the Device. Lets head back to Camp and present this to my brother."
Imrahldis mounted his most beloved black stallion who
pawed the air, reflecting his master's triumph and sped off.
Koran let out an explosive breath as the image faded from his mind. He panted heavily, exhausted and deprived of oxygen.
"Haldier," he said immediately. "Hisoka, you look exactly like Haldier!"
Echlan coolly studied the magician. "So you had a hand in the downfall of the Wardien King. By now, I can't say that anything really surprises me anymore. I'll leave you two to discuss whatever you may – I will attend to the Emperor now. Koran, call me when you are done, there's always work to do."
After Echlan had gone, Koran spoke again, but this time, in a much lower, confidential voice.
"It seems that you were destined to meet Illumi-san in this life – because I swear that Illumi-san looks exactly like Imrahldis."
"There are some differences." Hisoka vaguely mused. "I mean, Illumi just doesn't arrogantly act like that or say things which…are flattering to himself."
Koran nodded. "True, but Imrahldis must have been such a character back in his days. Did you see how he had long hair? He was defying tradition centuries ago and it looked like no one could really stop him. But YOU on the other hand – you seem so up tight and boring. All in a day's work you say – does nothing ever faze you?"
They both laughed for some time, then Hisoka turned the page. The writing was sprawled out in a spidery handwriting before him for pages and pages, and together, he and Koran read on:
"Actually, Haldier came to my palace to find me five years later. He had apparently had a run in with the law enforcers after the Kalinnan Emperor banned and outlawed revenge killings. Many travelers and vagabounds could not accept the rigidness of the new laws designed to reinforce law and order in society – Haldier included. In one situation, he had allegedly took the law into his own hands and committed an execution without submitting the accused to the proper authorities for a proper trial. Of course, everyone knew that the guy he killed was a notorious criminal, but still, my pedantic brother insisted on everyone following the rules.
Not me – I swore that the day I bent my will to a rule would be a day that I'd rather die. So Haldier came to me, looking for asylum, and I granted it to him without question. After I made clear that he was there with me the day the last Wardien King fell, Renard gave him a medallion which spared him from the death penalty for life.
Haldier and I spent a lot of time together afterwards – we respected each other's strengths (though I was sure he respected me more) and constantly sparred each other without nen. Not long after, we eventually did everything together – ate together, slept together, hassled and bullied the other courtiers together, though me more so. He was content to remain in the background, silent and thoughtful. He usually hung around in the inconspicuous shadows, watching, studying us all with the sharp eyes of a hawk. He was the more reserved of us two – and that complimented me well. I was the extravagant and flashy one, with the grandiose gestures and words, playing the court and the courtiers like they were puppets in the palm of my hand. I was the greatest actor on the stage, and everyone could only hope to be like me. But sometimes I would almost go too far, and he would always be there to pull me back, to tell me not to overdo things and to stop me from falling off the addictive, yet perilous edge of the extreme life. I guess even the wildest stallion needs a companion who he treats as his equal and would not toss his words out the other ear and would actually value them.
Value them I did. The soft spoken man thereafter never left my side. He went where I went and I went where he went. I never did realize just how aloof I had been all my life – that the Wardien King's last curse was in part fulfilled already. I believe it was my limitless natural nen abilities and intellect which set me apart from the rest of the commoners, and I was always too proud to see anything good or worthy in them either. But Haldier was different – we became more than just good friends, more than blood brothers by pact. A bond did form between us that was stronger than friendship, stronger than family, stronger than lovers. I knew I would have gone to the ends of the universe with him, and he need only ask, and I knew he would do the same for me. It went so far that we swore to die together, on the same day, the same month, the same year.
I had the best life – the best. But a mortal life is always too short to discover all the wonders of the world. Haldier and I tried to do as much as possible, but even if I did live to 190, it was still not enough. Haldier would pass away into eternity whilst my nen would continue to exist in the Forbidden Palace to make sure that one day, fate would bring Haldier's reincarnation here and my next life together and I would make sure that the curse would be lifted. No matter how gifted I am at nen, one still has to submit to death and whatever fate has in stall for our souls thereafter. I can only hope that I am granted all my powers that I had in my past life again so that I could continue to walk the world and see the people tremble beneath me and fate would once again, here my resounding and defiant laughter in its face.
The rest of the book is a detailed journal of my long, long life and my adventures with Haldier. At the back, you'll find a list of the things that we had wanted to do but were unable to accomplish for our bodies had grown old and we are no longer as fast or as strong as we used to be. We compiled the list of the things that we wanted to do in our next lives – I only hope you'll take interest and see if you can complete it. That's all I have to say – whatever has happened to your life, we are partly responsible for. I won't apologize however – because both of us did what had to be done in our lifetime. I only ask that you understand, and now that you have read this book, meaning that your curse is finally at an end. Rejoice – you now have the rest of your lives to live, free from the meddling hands of destiny. I've done my part – the rest is yours – and don't come back here blaming me for anything in the future that goes wrong with your life. Have fun!"
"He lived to 190?!" What a monster!" Koran muttered.
"Where's this list that he was speaking of…" Hisoka ignored Koran's little comment and impatiently turned to the back of the book. A piece of paper slipped out, and Hisoka unfolded it with shaking hands. There were at least a hundred dot pots, but he quickly scanned through the list.
"Holy cow…" he whispered, his expression settling into a scowl. "Illu and I have already done most of these already…"
Koran blinked rapidly and quickly took a look. Some of the things on the 'to-do' list were downright…weird: Pass off as a loving couple for forty eight hours on one of the most crowded streets in one of the most crowded cities on earth. Spend a day fishing at Lake Elaserail (a place reputed exist on earth for only two days every sixty years). Rob a bank and pass the buck onto a notorious syndicate of criminals. Crash a party and wreak general havoc Go to a zoo and let out all the animals, riding out the front gates on the backs of stampeding rhinocerouses. Have a fight between ourselves and ignore each other for two weeks. Buy an apartment in a secluded area and live there for a year. Use Haldier as bait to catch the Shrakmosis (another mythical sea creature believed to be extinct but there have been sightings of it by deep sea explorers). "Hey Hisoka, you better quickly leave to find Illumi now before the curse comes back and get you." Koran said quietly, twiddling his thumbs a bit and too upset to meet his friend's gaze. He felt a comforting weight on his shoulder.
"The curse is crap Koran," Hisoka easily countered. "I haven't had such a bad life – I mean, I met Hime-sama, the woman I most respected and cherished in my life. And I got to spend the good part of my childhood here in the Forbidden Palace, where I met you. It was right here, in these splendid palace grounds where my life really started Koran. This is my real home – I learnt my classes here, studied and developed nen here, learnt to plan and intrigue and make connections the moment I stepped beyond the Palace walls – this place has taught me everything. And then I met Illu – really, I can't say that my life has been so miserable or a private hell after all." He pulled Koran closer to him still.
"Don't worry about Illu. He's got to go because Master Echlan would kill him if he didn't. You heard his voice amplified around the city last night? That sounded nothing like him – that sounded like a different person, a person not afraid to throw his weight about him. And Illumi's mother is or was a Kalinnan princess, so he's got royal blood. Of course he's got to leave. I'll look for him, after my wounds have healed."
"Hey Hisoka, my rank could possible rise in the near future. Master Echlan is approaching 150 – he's going to let me be take over his position just to make sure I can run it properly. I'll be able to freely enter and leave the Palace Grounds as I wish by then. You could take me to see the world."
Hisoka closed the book. He had seen enough and felt that spending time with his best friend was better than reminiscing about what he did in his past life. That wasn't important – he was alive now, and he only had the future to look forward to, not to worry about something that happened near a millennia ago.
"I say that the world is overrated. I swear nothing beats the dirty and bloody politics of the Forbidden Palace and if you want impressive architecture, it's all around you. In fact, when people say "see the world", they mean they want to come here to have a look."
Koran and Hisoka shared the same long laugh and idly wandered out of the room, wondering what they could spend the rest of the day doing.
Karen Kalinnan Kastro studied her reflection in the full length mirror with her new gift resting lightly on her shoulders. It was a gold, handweaved shawl that glittered so brightly that it looked like its sparkles had been plucked from the stars in the nightly heavens and had been imparted to her clothing. The material itself was not expensive – it was at most the best gold thread that was sold at market. The value lay in the skill and craft that twisted and wove the thread into delicate and intricate patterns, knitting them into one fine garment, now light as a feather and almost weightless across her shoulders.
"Honey?" General Kamus' head poked through her bedroom door, but she had felt his nen long before he arrived.
"Yew dad?" she replied absentmindedly, her attention still fiercely attracted to the golden shawl.
"My gods! What a pretty thing!" Kamus flung her door wide open and moved forward to examine the treasure.
"Cousin Illu made this for me." Karen said simply then turned to her dad. "So, what's up?"
It took quite some effort for Kamus to concentrate on the topic he originally had in mind. Shaking his head a bit, he got back onto the main topic. "I just wanted to see that you were ok honey. My men just informed me that…you took care of East Gate last night."
"Yep." Karen turned back to the mirror and studied the reflection one more time, then took the shawl off, folding it with infinite care.
"Are…you ok? I mean to say…do you…you know…"
"Still have an urge to kill?" she brightly asked. She saw her father visibly gulp.
"Well…that is one way to put it." Kamus' memory had wandered back during the terrible days of the war when his daughter was almost unrecognizable, resembling a fallen angel whose blood red nen sickly crawled across the battlefield and dealt death with the slightest touch. Her hollow and distant look gave the toughest and most hardened soldiers shivers, for they belonged to an irredeemable, corrupted soul that only lingered on this world to make it in her own image. He almost lost his daughter once, and after his men's reports, he feared he would truly loose her this time.
"It's ok dad – I'm perfectly fine. Mentor also praised my efforts in calling back the Emperor from death's door last night, and I was just about to make another shift at the hospital."
Kamus was dumbstruck. "So…everything is ok?"
Karen walked towards her door, ready to leave, but stopped just long enough to kiss her father on the cheek.
"Yes dad, everything is fine. I have found the most peaceful place to meditate and do some thinking if I feel those urges again – so please don't worry."
"At least tell me where this place is so that I know where you are." Her father called after her. She gave a bright, silver laugh.
"Here, just here – my Sanctuary." She pointed to where her heart should be. Without waiting for a reply, she waved and ran off, late for her shift already.
Kamus rubbed his forehead to fend off an on-coming headache and sighed. Things were just too weird today.
Gon walked with Killua down the ruined streets of the city but was glad that people were already starting to rebuild what they had lost. Wing was injured last night protecting his student Zuuchi from the hordes of rebels, so he was going to spend at least the next six days in bed. Kurapika was with Leorio at the hospital, attending to the other wounded. So that just left the both of them to wander for the rest of the afternoon.
"Hey Killua, what do you suppose we'll do after this?"
"Oh, I don't know. Wait till the Pledge is over, then continue looking for your dad?"
Gon looked just a little skeptical. "But Illumi has disappeared now – won't your family want you to return to help look after your younger brother and sister?"
"Yeah – when pigs fly!" came the rude retort that loudly penetrated their thoughts.
"Allu! Get out of our heads!" Killua fumed, beating his head with his fists.
"It's no use brother – you have no defences against me! Fact aside – I just want to state that I'm quite capable of looking out of myself, and will certainly become the heir of the Zoldick family business."
"Good!" his elder brother savagely responded.
"And Karuto certainly won't need your help. I believe that she has probably surpassed you in ability already – that is, if you keep on wandering and never testing your skills and abilities. Anyhow, Dad just wanted me to tell you that he wants us all to get together one last time before you go travelling again. So just drop by the hotel ok?"
The presence in their minds disappeared like the wind had briefly pass through their hair. They both let out a sigh.
"Your brother is so strange."
"Tell me about it. And he says that getting into people's heads isn't even the difficult thing to do. Good – let him take care of the family, the less responsibility for me."
"Hmmm….you sound a little jealous Killua."
"Of course not." The kid scoffed, but it didn't sound too convincing.
Both were soon distracted by an elderly man trying to catch a score of puppies that had run free from their pen. They spent the rest of the afternoon looking for the cute, furry grey animals.