First Interlude: The Kafras

Kafra Corp. Headquarters, Al de Baran:

An old man of his late sixties slouched back a little as he slowly puffed away smoke from his pipe. The dark room was slowly being filled with haze from the smoke, which had nowhere to go.

The door slowly opened. Light coming in from the crack cast a beam into the face of the man behind the fine-grained desk on the far side of the office. He had a scar in one of the cheeks of his bloated face and his lips were both thick and protruding. His hair was made of wig and his monacle showed off his social status.

The old man removed the pipe from his mouth.

"So? Have you caught the deserter of the Mjolnir exercise?" said the man in a weak yet determined voice. Thick smoke from the pipe escaped his mouth whenever he opened it.

A feminine figure in yellow Kafra attire entered the dark room. "Not yet, Proprietor Callus. Informers have last reported her running through the fields of west Mjolnir," said the woman.

"I never imagined that the day a kafra would desert her roles would ever come…" said Callus in a sad tone. "Where have I gone wrong?"

"Hers is a unique case. The rest of the Kafra Elite are ready and willing to follow your orders," said the Kafra lady in a dainty voice.

The old man sighed. "Thank you for the reassurance, my dear daughter."

"Her squadmates have been interrogated successfully; they have revealed that she is indeed heading to the Glastheimspiel. As you have expected," said the Kafra.

The proprietor swung his chair away from the door and faced a painting of Al de Baran's clocktower behind his desk. "As much as I would hate seeing one of my children leave this earth at such an early age, we cannot let the secret weapons of the Kafra Corp run around without a leash."

"Shall I terminate her contract before she reaches Glastheim then?" asked the Kafra.

The old man replied, "She wants to destroy our great corporation with the prize of the contest. However, I never prevent people from trying once."

The Kafra pulled out a long katana from under her apron. "What are your orders then, Proprietor?"

"I shall arrange for your entry in the tournament. Make sure she doesn't win, Sampaguita. Return her Kafra band to me."

"As you wish Mr. Callus," said the Kafra. She then turned away, walked slowly and closed the door as she went out of the dark room.

The old man once more put the pipe in his mouth and puffed away. The embers of the burning weed in the pipe were the only light that the room now had.

My dear Vinca, running won't do you much good. Not even the great walls of Glastheim can protect you from my reach.