Darkness in the Twilight
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By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal
Snow and Ebony
There was a day when it finally stopped snowing, and the sun shone little through the break in the clouds before casting nothing but gray light onto the stone Fort Castelo. In between all the coughing of the soldiers, and the wheezing, and the aching, as in one form or another all of them got a touch of something, Celena still recovered in a bed. Even Gaddes was heard sniffling into a handkerchief once or twice, but that was the main brunt of it.
The girl was soon alone in the bed, Allen having recovered before her. Her lungs felt weak, breathing was still shallow and stiff. But at the very least she could eat - occasionally - and there was no more sign of fever. Melzin would look over her, listen to her breathing by pressing his ear to her back as she slumped forward. He still prescribed the eucalyptus incense and herbal tea.
To Celena, it seemed like her lungs were heavy and still frozen from the water. The wheeze in her voice lightened a bit, but she could not stand and walk around without getting winded. Therefore, she had been ordered to stay in bed.
Allen wasn't perfectly fine, he still had a bit of trouble keeping solid things down, but he'd been able to move about again and more often. Now that he'd gotten his soldiers in line, he'd recovered from yet another trying time, the blonde started up what he'd done when he first got to the fort all those years ago.
"We're going thief hunting," he proclaimed, slightly grinning over towards Gaddes.
Gaddes looked at his captain, wry smile playing across his lips and he lifted whiskered chin, "To what do we owe the occasion?" he asked, delighted in finally going out and trapping more bandits.
Oruto stood quietly in the corner as Gaddes was going over some trade routes on a map, "I hear some highwaymen were causing some trouble not too far from here. Poaching."
"Poaching?" asked Riden with a phenomenally confused look on his face. "We're goin' after stupid poachers? It like 6 feet of snow out there! Let the poachers do their poaching! I'm not gonna freeze my bony ass off for that!"
"Well then, I guess I'll be heading out on my own, since the lot of you are too cowardly to face a bit of cold." Allen shrugged nonchalantly, though his tone was teasing. His cloak was wrapped around his shoulders tightly, insulating him. He didn't have much fat at all to insulate him...
On top of the fact that there were highwaymen about, Allen was bored as hell in there with nothing to do.
"Alright, you scabbers dogs," yelled Gaddes to his crew, who all jumped from where they'd been lounging on the floor or hay bales in the common room, "Everyone put on something nice and warm to wear. You heard the boss. Let's get us some poachers!" The crew, of course, gave their usual grunt in reply, saluting before running from the common room to gather their weapons and winter wear.
Gaddes stepped up to Allen after Pyle scurried out behind Katz. He put a hand on the man's shoulder, "You sure you're okay for this, Allen? You still look a bit pale . . ."
Allen turned his head towards him unseeingly, nodding slightly. "I'll be fine. I've always been pale, Gaddes." The blonde managed a bit of a grin, shaking his head slightly.
"Alright," he said, clapping the knight on the back, "We've got a mission then, so let's get to it. Captain." he added with cheek.
Allen smirked a little, inclining his head slightly. No uniform for a trek out into the swamp, no matter how snowy it was. It wasn't nearly as warm as one might have thought it would be. He was dressed warmly enough, leather pants, his usual foppish, lightweight shirts set aside for something a bit heavier, though still remarkably fashionable, a sash at his waist beneath the coat and cloak he wore.
The men followed their captain and his first mate down the snowy trails, boots crunching under the snow, sword hilts dangling and clanking - and occasionally Riden would complain about the whether, at which point Kio would give him a dirty look. It was midday, but the overcast was thick and made everything sort of grayscale. Not that it bothered the boss, Riden supposed.
"Boss, no offense, but do you have any idea where we're going?" asked the impatient Katz.
Allen paused, turning to face them, though he couldn't see them.
"Is this all really that unexciting to all of you? After being cooped up in the fort for so long, I'd expect you to get restless."
Allen sure had been, but he'd also been confined to his bed and room for quite some time.
"Not unexciting," Katz insisted quickly, and the others looked at him, waiting for him to ask that impulsive thing that they'd all been dying to ask themselves, "But don't you think it'd be better if Gaddes took the lead . . .?"
Allen was silent for a long moment and then, unexpectedly, inclined his head. "I do believe it would be better, actually. I seem to forget I'm not as I once was. The swamp's just so familiar to me that I forget I can't see it."
It seemed the whole crew had been holding their breaths, for they all let out a heavy sigh at the same time.
"Lead on then, Gaddes, mm?" Allen arched a brow. He'd lightened up a bit since they'd left the fort... being confined like that had been grating on him.
Gaddes nodded, "Right, boss. Come on, you scumbags." And he turned around to continue leading their small group. For the most part, the snow was sort of a slush on the trail, from the occasional traders that came through to find safe haven in the parade grounds of Fort Castelo. Some of the snow had melted from the sunshine they'd had in the morning . . . so it was cold, snowy, and muddy. Triple threat, thought Riden sarcastically.
They'd gone quite far, and it was no surprise when Riden spoke up again to complain.
"Agh, flies." he groaned, waving them out of his face, "There's tons of them."
"...fan out and search for bodies." Allen perked a little, arching a brow. "It's unlikely, but it's still possible." The knight frowned slightly, tipping his head to the side a little and sniffing the air.
The men dispersed quietly into different directions. Their usual pairings, of course. Gaddes stayed with Allen, smirking, "Wanna help me look?"
Allen nodded. "Of course. Though you'll be the one looking, of course." Allen grinned a little and settled a hand on Gaddes' upper arm. Now that they'd likely be leaving the paths, he'd need guidance.
"Right," Gaddes rolled his eyes and start down further off the path, leading his captain over knee deep snow covered ground and root beds around large old trees. There was no sound in the forests, Gaddes noted, no birds, no wind either - he thanked whatever gods might have been listening for that one. He was looking everywhere, but he saw no dead bodies. He would have been able to smell it before he came across a corpse. . . wouldn't he? Unless the snow covered too much and blocked it from his nose.
Gaddes shook his head, looking around before admitting, "I don't see anything, boss."
"The snow. They're under the snow, they have to be. Flies don't buzz about this time of year like they were unless they've got a reason and decomposition is a good enough reason for them. It's possible that it's just animals or some such thing."
Allen frowned a little, turning and carefully heading back the way they came, then backtracking around to where the flies had been poking about lightly in the snow with his cane.
Gaddes followed him quickly, surprised that he turned around and walked back so quickly on his own. . . he just wasn't used to how nonchalant Allen had gotten with his handicap. He saw Allen poke the snow, before noticing something there around a tree.
"There's something sticking out of the snow here." And he bent to brush the snow away from what he'd found.
Allen waited calmly, shuffling over beside him, sniffing the air softly as he crouched down beside him. "What is it...?"
"It's an arrow," he exclaimed quietly, digging at the knee high snow around the arrow.
Allen frowned slightly, staying silent. A body. Perhaps it was an animals carcass, but if it was, why leave the body there?
"Ah, shit," Gaddes said, covering his nose as the stench of the corpse finally reached his nostrils, and he tried desperately to wave away the tainted air. Pinching his nose, he spoke again, "The poacher hath been poached."
Allen scrunched his nose, standing and nodding. "But by whom? Certainly not bandits. What does the arrow fletching look like?"
"Eagh," he said, putting his boot on the dead man's leather covered breast and yanking the arrow out. It had broken through the poacher's sternum, and there was a sickening crunch as the bone was moved. Gaddes examined the arrow's head. "Steel diamond shaped head, ebony shaft . . ."
Allen had his arm over his nose to keep the stench at bay a little, but besides that he simply stood there. He pondered for a bit, a faint frown on his lips.
"Steel diamond, that has to be high quality. Bandits wouldn't have something like that--not that they'd waste it on a poacher if they did. Ebony... ebony wood doesn't grow around here, does it? I don't' recall ever seeing it... it'd be expensive to import, too. To the villagers right outside the swamp wouldn't likely have it, either... nor would they be bothered to trek all the way out here to do so in this weather."
"Well, I may not know much," Gaddes started, moving away from the corpse to get away from the sickening smell - it was about to make him wretch all over the powdery snow. "But I think ebony is tropical . . . Never seen it grow in Asturia though. And the only other countries that border us are Fanlia and Basram."
"Fanalia. What would they be doing out here? Or Basram, even?"
Allen frowned a bit, brow furrowing as he, too, stepped away from the corpse. Van knew the location of the fort... but no. What would Van be doing here? They weren't too horribly far from the borders either.
"Boss, for all we know there could just be some guy using these arrows. We don't know for sure if it's Fanelia or Basram. And - it couldn't be that King Van has any interest invading, since Fanelia was just rebuilt not too long ago. . . never mind that they worship a god of war . . ." But even those words didn't seem to comforting to Gaddes' own ears.
Allen shook his head slightly. He'd have to let Millerna know of this, of course. It was his duty after all. Coincidence or not...
"I wonder if there are any other signs of someone's passing. Though admittedly, it might have been ruined by our own, as well as the snow."
Gaddes took a quick look around in vain, just to prove to himself to see if it was true or if anything can be seen. "I don't see anything. Everything's covered by snow . . . hang on." He bent towards the body again, looking closely and automatically pinching his nose against the potent smell again.
"Hm?" Allen arched a brow slightly, inclining his head in that direction, waiting for Gaddes. he could still smell the scent of it where he was and he once more put his arm over his nose, sighing a little.
"There's some sort of black residue here, on the guy's head. Agh, you're lucky, boss. This guy's as ugly as the rear end of a goat."
"Black residue... like a burn or some such thing?" Allen pursed his lips thoughtfully, shaking his head slightly, thinking back to what other things might leave such a residue.
Gaddes touched the spot of black, coating a gloved fingertip with it before moving away from the body to sniff it properly. "Sulfur." and he held it to Allen's nose for the nobleman to smell it for himself.
Allenfrowned a little nore, nodding slightly. "Sulfur, indeed..."
The blonde was silent for a moment, then blinked. "Basram had some sort of weaponry that used sulfur-based ammunition, right? But why arrows, as well...?"
"That's a hell of a good question, boss." Gaddes replied, wiping the residue on his pant leg. "You're the captain, captain. What's your next course of action? How can we be sure it's Basram and not just some crazy son of a bitch with small explosives and expensive arrows?"
"We can't. And it's not my decision alone to make. Gather up the others, would you? And recall where the body is, if you could. We might need the location later." Why would they be crawling across the borders into Asturian lands without giving any notification... killing a poacher with a combination of old and new technology somehow involved, and never mentioning it to anyone?
"Aye, capt'n." Gaddes grinned, and quickly went off trudging through the deep snow to search for his comrades.
A few minutes later, he came back with Pyle and Katz.
"Did the others come back?" he asked of his commander.
"....No, not yet." Allen frowned, lifting his head slightly. He stood from where he'd crouched beside the body, the arm still braced against his nose. Sulfur. And a bit of it from what he could tell. He wiped the mineral off his gloves, shaking his head slightly.
"Well, what the hell?" Gaddes groaned, "We've got four men missing and a dead body."
"Maybe Riden chickened out because of the cold." grinned Pyle, rubbing at his cold mole nose. "Went running back to the fort. He's such a little guy, you know?"
"I doubt it's that. It's possible, but he's got Kio with him. Listen, before we go any further, just in case something happens, the poacher's been killed. The flies were there for a reason." Allen motioned to where he'd moved away from, where the body still settled. "Thanks to Gaddes, the arrow was noticed and there's sulfur on the man's head. Sulfur, if you didn't know, is a key ingredient to those long-range weapons Basram developed.
The arrow was... steel diamond, the shaft ebony, so Gaddes has told me... which leads to even more suspicion considering the fact that Asturia doesn't have ebony wood."
"Sacred serpents, boss," said the usually casual and egocentric Katz, only now he was genuinely surprised and feeling anxious, "Are you saying Basram . . . is here?"
"I'm not saying it for certain--I'm not certain about any of it at the moment--but it's likely to be considered. But just like Gaddes said, how do we know it's not just someone who managed to get his hands on such weapons? Though the mix of the ammunition is curious. Why use arrows when those pistols of theirs are so much more effective?"
"Boss," quipped Gaddes again, thinking of something, "It could be that the guy didn't die from the arrow."
"It's possible... you know... thinking about the arrow, I automatically thought of Fanelia. So what if they're trying to pin it on them?"
"Fanelia is known for their steel," admitted Gaddes. But suddenly there was a sickening thunk and he let out a clenched scream.
"Shit!" said Katz, catching Gaddes before he fell to the ground and quickly dragging him behind a tree.
Allen tensed and moved quickly, grabbing Pyle's arm as he passed him and yanking him into the mess of swamp with him. "Katz... what is it? Where'd he get hit?" Allen's heart hammered against his chest, the terror just never ended, did it?
"Ah," hissed Gaddes, pulling out the arrow that hit his leg squarely in the thigh, "I'm alright." he panted, "Just hit me . . . in the leg." He suppressed another strangled growl of pain, leaning up against the tree that Katz had quickly moved him behind.
"Holy Jechia . . ." said Pyle, out of breath, pulling his commander safely behind another thick trunk of a tree.
"Well, I suppose this is what we get for trouncing around in the swamp at near-dark." It had been his idea from the beginning, just to give them a bit of fresh air, out of the fort. And Gaddes had gotten shot...
"Oh, no," he murmured softly. "No... it's no small wonder why Riden and the others haven't gotten back..."
"No, boss, they wouldn't kill him and the others, would they?" asked the kind hearted and usually lazy Pyle. A high pitched whistle of an arrow went passed Allen's ear. "Watch out!" he said out of impulse, pulling his captain down to the ground.
Allen started a little, frowning. "They might, but they'd gain more ground on us if they used them to get whatever it is they want."
"They might be camped . . . near here," managed Gaddes, wincing from the immense sting and throb in his leg. "Gods, my leg's killing me . . ."
"Take it easy," offered Katz, "We should get back to the fort."
"No way! We need to find Riden and Kio! And Teo and Oruto! I won't leave 'em here to be killed!" cried Pyle, keeping a hold on Allen's shoulders - as if the knight would suddenly spring up and put himself into danger.
"We need to get Gaddes back, but it'll be difficult." The unspoken reason was partially because of him and his inability to see. Off the paths, he was a mess tromping through the swamps. And going on the paths was out of the question. "But we can't just... leave Riden and the others."
"Should we split up?" asked Katz. Gaddes laughed without humor.
"That seems like a horrible idea."
"Less in a group would offer less of a chance of getting seen. But Gaddes can't make it back on his own. And I'd be of no use aiding him back. As much as I don't want to say it, we might be better off heading back and returning later. I have a feeling they'll still be there, though I can't assure it."
"The fort's behind us," said Katz, looking around a tree. "That's also the direction the arrows came from."
"Then that's decided it for us, hasn't it? We can't go back that way... or at least not the direct way we came from."
Allen fidgeted a bit, silent for a long moment before he spoke again. "Look, all of you can move faster without me. Even with Gaddes injured. There's paths that break off of this one that'll lead you back to the fort. They're hidden, Gaddes knows them. They likely won't see you that way. Go back, leave Gaddes there and bring more soldiers back with you. Be as discreet as possible."
They wouldn't like the idea, he knew. They'd likely refuse. But it was worth a shot.
Despite the pain Gaddes felt with the ebony arrow lodged in the meat of his leg, he felt a horrible black pit form in his stomach with the proposition Allen just gave them. The knight was right, of course. They immediately protested to the idea.
"Allen, this isn't worth doing something stupid. We can't just leave you behind – Agh, shit! Don't touch it!" The first mate solidly smacking away Katz prying hands, "Leave it in or I'll bleed more than I am. Not to mention hurt more. . ."
"Boss, Gaddes is right," said Pyle from beside his commander. "You know we can't just leave you here when you can't see." Well, tact wasn't really a strong point for many of his crew – not just innocent Riden.
"Be logical, alright? Set aside your worry. Look at this closely. One life or four? Four. And I can stay hidden well enough. Just be quick about it." Allen trailed off for a moment, then frowned slightly. "And that's not from me as Allen, that's from me as your commander."
The soldiers, although were about to argue again, simply bowed there heads and resigned themselves to frustrated harrumphs. They were very reluctant. One life or four. They loved their friends, their comrades in arms - but they couldn't leave their beloved commander. The order was given, and there was nothing they could do. With respect, in their hearts they had already agreed to what they were told to do.
Pyle moaned pathetically, "Aw, boss . . ."
"Just go. The more time you waste complaining about it leaves me, as well as the others, in more danger. Hurry. And Gaddes? Say nothing of this to Celena if you see her. Nothing. I don't want her doing something drastic. If she asks, then tell her I'm out walking or something."
"Right," Gaddes groaned at the pain as he stood up, leaning heavily against the tree. He panted, clenched his teeth, but still managed to have a sense of humor, "Walking . . . right into a tree."
"Oh, shut up, you." Allen managed a little grin, waving him off and tugging the heavy cloak close. "Just go on. And Gaddes... stay back at the fort, alright? I certainly hope I really didn't have to tell you that, but I will anyhow. Gods know you're as stubborn as I am."
Gaddes managed a quick, breathy chuckle before Katz draped his arm over the other man's shoulders and pulled him out of there. They quickly made their way across the road and into the otherside of the trees.
"Boss," said Pyle worriedly, "please don't get yourself killed."
"Just go," murmured Allen and he flashed a little grin. "I've pulled through these stunts before. I trust in my luck."
But Pyle said nothing more, pursing his lips, rubbing his mole-nose and running after Gaddes and Katz. There were more arrows shot, the sound of them hitting the trees or the snow and making a sharp sizzle sound as it slid to a halt on the ground. Some quick, short orders were given in the distance - men's voices, and not speaking Asturian.
It was like an explosion of noise, the sound of a great tower falling but it only lasted a split second. It was enough to make the ears ring horribly. It echoed through the trees and made birds fly away, frightened.
Allen tensed, lifting his head. Was that the fort? It... couldn't be. The blonde pressed close to the trees he'd huddled behind, one hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword. If he was going to die out here, he'd die with his sword in hand.
There were slow, careful footsteps in the snow. They moved quietly, snow softly crunching as it wrapped around their knees with every tentative step. There were three of them, quietly approaching.
Allen tensed, silently drawing the sword with slow, steady movements from the sword at his side. Crouching down, almost as if he was injured, bracing his back against the tree, the cloak drawn about him. Thankfully, Gaddes had managed to bleed all over the place, the snow stained crimson beside him. Eyes were closed, head tipped back against the tree, just listening and waiting.
The footsteps came closer, stopping momentarily for the men to signal orders silently. Two of them slowly moved around either side of the tree.
Allen was waiting, though just for what he didn't know. The snow, the air was cold, nudging at him. There were three, but only two were approaching. One, then, might still have a bow. Or at least have backup.
The men stopped at either side of the tree, one moving his hand ever so slightly around it, completely silent as they wore furs instead of leather that creaked. A sharp click indicated that he'd cocked his pistol - next to Allen's temple.
The blonde was still for a moment. He knew he'd get one chance. The other soldiers would likely catch him before he got any further, but at least he could take down one. If only one.
I'm sorry, Celena, Gaddes... Riden all of you. I don't think I'll make it back to the fort...
With a jerk of his arm, the sword lifted from the small bit of snow that had covered it and he jammed it back in the general direction the man was in. Just hoping to hit flesh. As he did so, he braced a booted foot against the tree trunk and shoved himself away, bringing the sword with him after the strike, the cloak and his hair billowing about him softly.
The man yelled out in pain as the sword slashed across his abdomen, giving him a nice open and bleeding gash across the stomach, but not too deep. He fell to the ground, his arms hugged around his middle, growling. The man who had stayed behind moved quickly now, while the other gave chase.
He didn't have to chase very far, grabbing Allen's shoulder and pulling him roughly down to the snow. His boot landing on the fallen knight's chest, pinning him, and aiming his own pistol at Allen's head.
Allen winced, sliding a little at the fall until the boot pressed against his chest. The blonde growled a little, jerking away instinctively, in vain. He was going to die here, wasn't he? And to think, without even knowing why.
Allen turned his cheek to the other man, silent.
Guess my luck's run out... not that I really had much to begin with. At least... I'll die a knight. And this way... this way, they'll have enough time to get away.
The soldier with his boot pressed firmly on this fair haired man spoke to him, "Ihr name." He pressed his boot down further, putting the barrel of his pistol to Allen's forehead, "Ihr name!"
Allen pulled back slightly, gasping a little. "A-Allen Schezar," he murmured without really thinking about it. There was a burning in his chest that was distinctly uncomfortable... and painful... and not natural.
"Entspannen Sie sich, Fritz." said the other, a deeper voice than his younger companions. He must have been their commander. He had worked at helping his fallen soldier, binding the wound with what little fabric he could spare before kneeling close to the knight. "Allen Schezar. Ein netter Basramer Name. Ironisch, nein?"
Allen's eyes were open, though still sightless. He narrowed them... he didn't know much of their language. Damn it, if he knew their language well...
"Verstehe Sie nicht," he murmured softly, wincing a little. He knew a few phrases, a little of the basics... though nothing more than that. Pleasantries, really.
The man laughed coldly, standing up. "The Asturian speaks enough to say he does not understand us. Ha! You name is Basramese, Allen Schezar. It amused me how ironic it was to come across you." He laughed again, watching Allen's gaze as it stared right through him. "Blind."
Allen swallowed a little, furrowing his brow. How ironic, indeed. "Tell me... do you have others? Four other soldiers?" The blonde did not reach for the sword that settled nearby. They had won, he relented that fact.
"I thought it strange at first, not to mention surprising, herr Schezar," said the commander, his soldier still steadily keeping his boot upon Allen's pained chest, "that a blind man carry a sword. And use it well enough, all things considered. Who commands the Fort in the distance?"
Allen sighed painfully beneath the boot, frowning slightly. "I do. Or did until you captured me." Despite his troubles, he was still a young man, hardly with the look of a soldier, what with the fine clothing he wore beneath the cloak.
"Sir, I relent myself unto you." Gloved fingers grasped the blade of the sword and he regretfully held it out to him, hilt first. "I would simply prefer if you let me breathe a little easier."
He may have given himself up, but he didn't give up the fort. His men still had a fight left in them, after all.
"I am a Knight Caeli, sir. I pride myself on my sword work... though it has done me nothing in this situation."
The commander laughed again, taking the sword and tossing it aside before grabbing Allen roughly by the collar and lifting up to his feet. Before he had time to do anything, Allen was shoved into the hold of the solider under sergeant's command, who quickly took his hands and bound them.
"What a prize. We've captured the commander of the fort. Gods smile down on us this day. Take him to the camp with the others. I'll take care of Müller." The one named Fritz nodded and began to lead Allen in front of him, pushing and shoving around tree branches and snow mounds.
Allen stumbled, his head bowed. He didn't need his sight, after all. And maybe this way he could affirm that Riden and the others were alive. Or dead. Or whatever. Thankfully, he didn't make much a mess of himself as they reached the camp, though once or twice he tripped up. His shoulder started to hurt again, along with the pain in his chest and the chill air clawed at his recently healed lungs.
Not that he'd completely recovered. I'll be fine, he assured himself silently.