Now for the Karayan side of things… For those confused, for the most part these events take place in roughly the same time period as the previous chapter. Meaning that while Chris and Louis are going to check on Salome, Roland and Borus, Aila, Sergeant Jordi and Melville are… well, see for yourself. Also, see the first installment for all disclaimers/warnings.
~ * Homecomings * ~
Even the sunlight seemed cold that morn, pale shafts breaking through the dense clouds to cast undesired illumination upon the pitiful remains of Karaya Village. Though the flames had long burned themselves out, the inferno had swallowed everything. Not even charred skeletal woodwork remained: only a few lone, bent pieces of scorched poles remained half-standing, scant remnants of the clusters of huts that had once populated the field.
The large, flat boulder that marked one of the village's boundaries remained, its surface pockmarked with fresh gouges and blanketed with soot. It was, perhaps, one of the few pieces of evidence left to prove that the settlement had ever existed in the first place.
The only other surviving proof could be fond just beyond that stone, kneeling upon the freshly churned ground and facing row upon row of mounds of earth that had not been present before.
Tan fingers, already caked with dirt, clutched at the ground, palms pressing against the yielding soil. Curls of dark brown hair fell down from their high bindings to frame the grimly set visage of the young woman. Her head was bowed, eyes closed, but her shoulders remained stiff, defiant despite her crouching posture.
Flanking the kneeling archer were her two comrades-in-arms, each lost in their own private mourning. At her immediate left, Sergeant Jordi planted the hilt of his halberd in the dirt, holding the long shaft in both hands, looking off to one side through narrowed violet eyes. Flecks of dirt also decorated his fingers, though he had dusted his palms off as best he could. The white feathers seemed to naturally attract and contain grit and grime.
(Would that was the least of our problems, right now…) mused the drake bitterly.
He cast a sideways glance toward the youngest of their number. Melville failed to notice this, for the Zexen lad's misty tan eyes were focused upon the kneeling Aila. His own dirt-encrusted hands hung at his side, several of the limp fingers lightly brushing the small blade buckled to his belt. His posture just screamed out how inexperienced the self-proclaimed knight truly was with such situations.
The sergeant had seen similarly grim scenes of slaughter before. It never got any easier. A part of Jordi wished it never would: what would it say about what he had become if he ever became accustomed to witnessing such tragedy?
(Helping people bury their friends and family… never gets any easier either. Particularly when the ones doing the burying are only children…)
At the very least, they could be thankful Aila was not among the bodies that had to be dealt with. Swift application of the strongest medicine they carried helped ensure the nasty slice that was dealt to her stomach sealed almost immediately. There was little chance of infection, let alone a scar, though the front of her leather tunic would have to be stitched up later. After all, the low-level medicines they carried weren't potent enough to carry the more mystical benefits Rune Magic endowed, like instantaneous repair of torn clothing…
Had the Silver Maiden completed her strike the way she originally intended, then a petty matter such as the rip in her leathers would have been moot.
(But she didn't kill her. She didn't kill us. …Is this the ironheads' definition of mercy? To leave a couple of weakened Grasslanders alive to witness a village going up in flames around them?)
The Duck Clan warrior shook his head slowly. It was still more compassion than he expected from the reputed Zexen Queen of Ice. And, somehow, her sparing of their lives seemed insignificant compared to the torching of the village she had undoubtedly ordered herself.
After the fires died down sufficiently, the sergeant had set about the grisly task of shifting through the ashes and disposing properly of the bodies. Complicating the matter further was the mallard's lamentable inexperience with the tribal traditions. He was aware of the basic, but the specific rites and methods were completely unknown to him. That, plus he wasn't aware what would be considered correct in light of the sorrowful circumstances.
Traditionally, Karayan warriors who were killed on the field of battle were cremated, their ashes spread to the winds. But the village should not have been considered a battlefield by any means, and the thought of consigning what remained of the victims to such a fate seemed… wrong, somehow, to Jordi.
Burial, then, appeared the best route. However, the sergeant was sadly ignorant of the prayers and rituals the Karayans used when entrusted the bodies of their own to the spirits of the earth. While hardly a superstitious duckling, Sergeant Jordi did respect the wishes of his longtime friends, and found the thought of not seeing them off as was proper for their tribe was upsetting.
"…The spirits will just have to forgive us," he murmured quietly.
Aila's silent appeal to the earth spirits would have to suffice for the time being. Maybe sometime in the future, if…once they managed to track down other survivors of the torching, a more experienced shaman could finish whatever they failed to address. Providing, of course, one still lived.
Another source of cold comfort for the sergeant was the knowledge that not all of the Karayans could have been slaughtered. Surely the chief and his warriors were still alive, and surely the ironheads could not have possibly been able to catch and murder every fugitive, every refugee.
He had never come across a body resembling Lulu's, for example. The mostly brunette boy's shock of scarlet bangs was unmistakable, and the fact he had yet to discover a child's body with any such distinction hopefully meant the boy was among the escaped natives.
There had been too many small bodies, however, for him to draw much comfort from that. Jordi had also discovered Luce among the fallen. Closing his eyes, the mallard sent up a silent prayer that she was at peace and, if their paths should ever cross with Lulu's in the future, that he would not have to be the one to break such news to the boy.
Aila's parents also numbered among the fallen. Jordi was thankful the archer had not been able to see their bodies herself: they were buried before she was healed enough to join in the grim task. He preferred that her memories of them would be of their lives together, not dominated by the sad sight of their crushed, charred corpses buried amid the rubble of their hut.
(Children should never have to bury their parents so young. Not that the reverse is much better… But…)
Bowing his head, Sergeant Jordi shifted so that he was facing away from the burial valley. The mallard kept his eyes tightly shut, as his thoughts drifted down well-worn, private paths he would rather not share with either of his companions.
Melville didn't know what to make of what was happening. The Zexen lad gazed at the kneeling woman and the burial field stretching out before them in a sort of daze. He would have given anything to have a sense of unreality come over him. But his hands were stained from the graves he'd helped dig.
And the vision of Chris Lightfellow within the blazing inferno was burned irrevocably into his memory. Each detail etched with searing vividness, from the way the flames reflected bronze, copper and gold in the sheen of her silver braids to the terrible cold shade of frosted lavender her eyes had been in the instant she turned and saw Aila charging.
White Heroes generally don't go around slaughtering innocent villagers as a rule.
Surely, there had to be some explanation for this. The Zexen Council was supposed to be capable of explaining everything. But after witnessing the carnage with his own eyes -- and helping his comrades bury their neighbors and friends -- Melville wasn't entirely certain he wished to hear whatever their justifications might be.
Verdant eyes snapped open abruptly, and Aila stood. The huntress took great care to keep her shoulders stiff and back level as she turned to face her companions.
"What now, Sergeant?"
The tone she asked that question in was harsh, but to Aila much more preferable than showing any sign of resignation. There was no way that Jordi would respond the way she was partly hoping for: to cut a line back to the Zexen capital and confront the pigs on the Council directly. It was all too clear to her now they'd been planning this from the start. The treaty had been nothing more than a ploy…
"…The closest safe haven I can think of would be my village," the mallard replied after a pause. "We should head there to recuperate and plan out our next move."
Left unspoken was the prospect that other refugees of Karaya might have headed toward the Duck Clan Village for the same reason. To state such a hope aloud might very well jinx their chances. Aila nodded agreement; a few seconds later, Melville hesitantly followed suit.
They set off at once, Sergeant Jordi taking point while Melville hung back close to Aila. There was no reason to remain in the pitiful ruins of the torched village any longer, and all were eager to move on, though they each knew the memory of what they left behind there could never be discarded.
~ * ~
The trek through the northern Amur Plains was short and mercifully uneventful. The few scattered bands of monsters that crossed their path were all small fry, fuzzballs, rabbits carrying tiny axes, and the occasional oversized spider. Soon the trio was able to glimpse the outline of modest huts in the distance.
It was, perhaps, a bit too soon for Sergeant Jordi.
The most distinctive thing about the Duck Clan Village, apart from the obvious, was the fact that the entire community was built above a large expanse of water. The lake was mostly natural, although some select renovations had been made here and there when the growing town needed to expand.
All of the major businesses in the village, including the inn, magic, rune, item and appraisal shops, were located on the circular dock system at the edge of the lake that faced the Amur Plains. This was the only part of the village that could be accessed from dry land. All of their housing, as well as certain services such as their blacksmith, was situated within the boundaries of the water. Not only did this help serve as a natural defense against intruders, but even simple visitors couldn't access anything that wasn't on that singular boardwalk ring.
It seemed likely to the sergeant that if any other survivors had arrived, they would likely be hiding out within the rest of the community. That was the safest place, especially for any wounded refugees.
"Sergeant! Sergeant! What fortuitous timing!"
(Well, this is certainly familiar,) mused Jordi, raising his eyebrow as two familiar faces came barreling toward him. Apparently the only thing that had changed about this pair was their ages.
"We need your help at once!" the taller of the twosome exclaimed, nervously adjusting the glasses resting on his beak.
"Not even a hello after all this time, Wilder?" Jordi murmured.
The bespectacled mallard flushed with embarrassment, and started to stammer out an apology, only to be stopped by Sergeant Jordi waving it off. The older duck gave his flustered friend an ironic smirk, lavender eyes gleaming.
"Nothing seems to please her!" cried the shorter and stouter duck, jogging up behind his partner. "We're at a total loss. We need you, Sergeant!"
"I've just arrived, and already duty calls," Jordi sighed, shaking his head.
"Please!" Wilder resumed his begging. "You're our best hope. No time for delays. Come quickly!"
With that, both of the younger mallards turned and scurried off the way they'd come, leaving Jordi shaking his head while Aila and Melville stared blankly after them. Both Karayan maiden and Zexen youth then looked at the sergeant. He shrugged in response to the unspoken questions in their eyes.
"We might as well see what they're so worked up about," he stated, starting down the wooden walkway into the main section of the village.
~ * ~
(…It is so difficult to find good help these days…)
The young woman mentally rolled her eyes even while agreeing with the tired old truism. But then, what could she expect? So far all she'd been able to locate in this backwater village were a bunch of dithering ducks who seemed absolutely hell-bent on being of no assistance whatsoever to her cause.
According to most of the tomes she'd browsed through chronicling the history of the Flame Champion, however, 'the first of the Six Clans of Grassland to ally with the Fire Bringer was the noble Duck Clan, a race renowned for its talented warriors and guides.'
(So either they're all trying to conceal something from me, or the race has fallen a long way in the years since then…)
Facing the small crowd of flustered fowls before her, the noblewoman huffed and wondered if she was affording them entirely too much credit.
(No, they must know something! I refuse to believe I came all this way just to run into a dead end thanks to some daft ducks!)
Irritably she flicked her head back, causing her burnished auburn hair to ripple like a coppery waterfall with the movement. The delicate gloved fingers of her gesturing right hand briefly brushed against trailing bronze locks before both hands came to rest firmly on her hips. Lilly Pendragon was not about to be denied her due.
"I'll ask once more, but don't make me ask again!" she informed her audience. "Where is the Flame Champion? Will one of you answer me?!"
Her reward was a maddeningly blank stare from all of the mallards present.
"How should we know?" one of the ducks piped meekly, sounding very much like he expected to get his head bitten off for his query.
Lilly very nearly obliged him that. Rather than thunder at the imbecile for asking such an insipid question, however, she merely briefly squeezed her eyes shut and silently reminded herself, (This is an important mission for Tinto I'm on. It won't do to injure the locals. …Tempting as it is…)
"You must know something," she replied tersely, matter-of-factly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world and she was quite frankly amazed at his idiocy. "Yet for some reason you refuse to tell. Why are you doing this?"
"We can't tell what we don't know!" feebly insisted another of the fowls.
Lilly's eyes snapped back open, revealing bright irises of an even more breathtakingly violet-blue hue than her flower namesake. Of course, the exasperated glare she was giving the crowd proved she was hardly as yielding or fragile as such a pretty name might yield one to believe. Woe befell anyone who dared underestimate the Pendragon lass.
"You just won't cooperate, will you?" she asked, keeping her voice tight, clipped, deadly.
"………"
A pair of ducks standing near the rear of the group shared a glance and a mutual shaking of heads. Apparently they thought Lilly would not see them. Her eyes narrowed further, and the Pendragon prepared to roar her displeasure at the duo.
"…Just what the heck is going on here?"
While the voice that asked that question was decidedly female, it did not come from the noblewoman. Lilly blinked and looked over to behold a trio of new arrivals. While one of the strangers was another duck -- at least he appeared to be in somewhat more suitable attire for a soldier -- she found it considerably more relieving that the other two were decidedly human.
"Thank goodness," she sighed, relief softening her features.
Unfortunately for the crowd, that softness swiftly passed as she took a step forward and nearly bumped into a couple of the ducks. She immediately glared at the offenders.
"Let me pass. I've had enough of you birdbrains!"
She accentuated her command with a stomp, and the crowd dissipated, the hapless ducks eagerly scurrying away from the girl's deadly stares. Once the path was clear, Lilly's face resumed its pleasurable smile, and she headed over to speak with the newcomers at once.
"I thought there were only ducks here," she commented to the other female, naturally gravitating towards her rather than the youngster at her side. "I'm glad I was wrong. You are?"
Leaf green eyes regarded the copper-haired noblewoman warily, dropping briefly to study the sheathed rapier strapped to her side. They lingered on the slender weapon for a few moments before shifting back up to study the unfamiliar face. The friendly smile she was offering now was a drastic change from the mask of anger those same features had been tightened into just seconds before.
For her part, Lilly took advantage of the other's hesitation to study the stranger before her as well. She estimated this bronze-skinned girl was a few years younger than she -- probably about fifteen or sixteen, she decided -- and clearly not as refined. The leathers she wore looked pretty enough, thanks to the intricate woven designs, but apparently she wasn't in the habit of taking care of her appearance, judging from the rather noticeable rip in the front of her tunic and the dirt coating her hands. Still, Lilly guessed she could be considered pretty -- in an earthy, rugged sort of way.
"Who's asking?" the newcomer finally inquired, fixing Lilly with a piercing emerald stare. "Tell us who you are!"
"Me?" Deciding to be amicable despite this girl's obvious lack of manners, Lilly rested one hand lightly on her own chest and introduced herself. "I am Lilly Pendragon, daughter of Gustaf, President of the Republic of Tinto. Now your turn. Your name?"
"…I'm Aila, huntress from the Karayan Clan," replied the younger woman, pressing one hand lightly against her chest in unconscious mimicry of the noblewoman.
"Karaya Clan?" echoed Lilly, raising one delicate eyebrow. "Never heard of it."
"……Well, I've never heard of the Republic of Tinto, either, so…" Aila shrugged disinterestedly.
The raised eyebrow twitched once before lowering as Lilly bit back a sarcastic response. After all, she should have foreseen that this Aila girl might not take too kindly to the suggestion that her clan wasn't too well known where she came from.
"Um… My name's Melville," interjected the lad standing beside her, apparently deciding the brief lull in the conversation meant it was time for his own introduction. "…And this is Sergea…"
"Anyway, Aila," Lilly cut in swiftly, drawing attention back to her, "I have questions for you. Tell me what you know of the--"
"Milady! We've obtained lodging!"
The shrill, oddly masculine voice sliced through the thread of conversation she was trying to weave between Aila and herself cleanly. The trio's attention was now focused upon the two men jogging toward them across the curving plank walkways. Lilly frowned.
"Just when I was getting somewhere…" she lamented under her breath.
She didn't bother looking over when the first of the men reached them, his partner close behind. The tall blonde's sprint clearly was taking its toll, since he needed to cup his gloved hands over his knees for support while panting for air. Lilly found his exhaustion all the more irritating.
(If you hadn't rushed in the first place,) she thought angrily, (then I might have gotten a little closer to my goal and you wouldn't be so short of breath.)
"My…lady…" he repeated in between gasps. "Thank you for… your patience. Your things are in your room."
"However, milady," warned his darker-skinned, less winded partner, "you may not be keen on the bed size or how close the water is. Our options are limited here."
"………" Lilly bowed her head further, the wide brim of her hat casting the upper half of her face into further shadow.
"?" The pair looked curiously at her, the blonde's face confused while his companion's expression was a tad more exasperated. Then she snapped her head around to glare at them, and both recoiled.
"You think me overly demanding?" she queried, jabbing an accusing finger at them. "Need I remind you that you asked what I wanted and I answered? Right?"
The hapless duo met her question with silence, which she took as abashed acquiesce. Her aggravated frown deepened, and she tossed her hair back again while striding between them, lightly brushing her gloved fingers through the trailing tresses.
"You two!" she huffed. "Fine, let's see. Which way is it?" Without really checking for whatever questionable guidance they might offer, she started off in the direction they had come from, following the raised walkway. "This way? Ah, this way."
"Milady, wait!" the blonde pleaded, jogging after her with his compatriot at his side, heedless of the trio of perplexed onlookers left behind.
"Who, or what, was that?" muttered Sergeant Jordi.
Aila shrugged, then started toward the inn, following the same pathway the strange girl in the huge hat and her cohorts had used. She was not entirely surprised when she pushed open the doors to be greeted with the sound of complaining.
"Was there nothing better? This room is too damp."
"Please understand, milady," pleaded the blonde attendant.
"Please!" his partner repeated.
"Are you still busy complaining?" Jordi commented as he, Aila and Melville walked inside.
Lilly turned around to see them. The mild annoyance coloring her face fled in favor of a bright smile as she recognized the trio as the ones she'd just met.
"Oh, you. What is it? Ah, you want to finish that talk of ours…"
"…Not particularly," Aila replied with a shake of her head.
"Oh, is that so." Lilly narrowed her eyes, losing her pleasant smile. "What might persuade you…"
"…Look, all I care about right now is getting a room here," the huntress muttered, averting her gaze. "It's been a long day already, and…"
"Well then, if that's the case…!" Lilly clapped her hands smartly together. "You can split our room with us! Samus, pay the good innkeeper for our three new guests."
"What?" Aila shook her head quickly. "Uh, really, that's okay…"
"We wouldn't want to impose…" interjected Sergeant Jordi.
"I insist!" Lilly smiled triumphantly. "Our stay will be far more pleasant if we can pass the time getting to know some of the locals." (And hearing more about what they know about the Flame Champion,) she added privately to herself.
Realizing there was no getting out of this debacle, Sergeant Jordi sighed and stepped aside, allowing the darker-skinned attendant to reach the desk and make the necessary changes. After that was taken care of, the group of six headed out the back door and into the hut the visitors had rented. Lilly didn't waste any time: as soon as the door closed behind them, she rounded on Aila.
"Now then. What do you want to discuss?"
(Let's get this over with…) "What were you going to ask before?" asked Aila.
"Ah! Right to the point!" gushed Lilly. "Now then, before we were so rudely interrupted," -- she cast a quick glare back in the direction of her escorts to ensure they knew exactly what she meant -- "I was simply going to ask what you know of the Flame Champion. If you could just tell me where to locate him, you'll be justly rewarded…"
"'The Flame Champion'?" Sergeant Jordi repeated, eyebrows raising. "Didn't expect such a topic from someone like you…"
"Who's that?" Melville questioned, looking confused.
"I suppose you wouldn't know, being Zexen," Jordi commented, turning his attention to the lad. "Over fifty years ago, the Grasslands were invaded by Harmonian forces. They quickly began to conquer the lands, and would have seized control of everything had it not been for the Flame Champion and his Fire Bringer. Under his guidance, the Clans were united against the enemy. Even Holy Harmonia couldn't stand against the Six Clans, the Keepers of the Flame and the Flame Champion himself."
"Wow…" Melville breathed.
"However, after the Harmonia war ended, the Flame Champion and many of his comrades simply vanished without a trace. No one is certain what exactly became of them." The sergeant shrugged. "Considering how many years have passed since then, they may have all passed away."
"Or so they would have you think," scoffed Lilly. "However, I have reason to believe that the Flame Champion is still alive and well. That's why I've come here: to investigate and learn the truth of the matter."
"Out to this backwater village, on the basis of some silly rumors," muttered the darker of her attendants under his breath.
Clearly, however, his complaints were not muffled enough, as Lilly shot him a nasty glare, violet eyes flashing with anger.
"Haven't you figured it out yet, Samus?" she snapped. "The tales of the Flame Champion often state that the Duck Clan were the first to align with his Fire Bringer against Harmonia. Obviously this village is the sensible place to begin our search!"
Samus flinched, as did his partner, who looked sympathetic to the other attendant's plight. Thinking them properly cowed, Lilly turned back to face her guests.
"Moving right along, since no further information seems to be available here, I've decided to go to the Lizard Clan next. I've heard rumors of an attack of some sort there. But Reed and Samus here are useless at navigating Grassland. It took them ages just to get us here! So, how would you like to guide me to the Lizard Clan? Naturally, I'm prepared to pay you for your time. About… four thousand potch, say?"
"…Sergeant?" Aila looked questioningly at the mallard.
"Well… I can't see how staying here does anyone any good," the sergeant replied thoughtfully. "If the Lizard Clan has really been attacked, we may as well investigate."
"All right." Aila nodded in agreement.
"Fantastic!" piped Lilly. "Now, let's work out the details. I assume you know of the Lizard Clan's travel routes?"
"They use underground passages stretching who knows how far through the Grasslands," replied Jordi. "It happens to be one of their greatest strengths, since it allows them to move without having to deal with…interference."
"Our scouts concur. There appears to be a major junction in their network located under the ruins to the west of here. Take me there, then introduce me to the Lizard Clan upon arrival. I'll pay you two thousand potch now, and you'll receive the rest upon our safe arrival. Agreed?"
"Agreed," Sergeant Jordi nodded.
"Now that our plans are settled, prepare to depart," Lilly proclaimed, clapping her hands together once.
"Milady!" exclaimed a flustered Reed.
"We've done nothing but hurry about for days, then scurry about like ants after arriving. May we not stop for a night to rest properly?"
Again Lilly glared at him, snapping, "Are you a man or a mouse? You were taught to 'strike while the iron is hot', correct? Well, weren't you?"
"………" Samus averted his eyes, still looking quite peeved about the situation.
"Lilly, the room has already been paid for, and we also need to rest before departing," Sergeant Jordi spoke up matter-of-factly. "Surely your investigation can wait. You do want to have your guides in top condition, correct?"
"…Fine! But I expect to be off as soon as possible!" Folding her arms, Lilly wrinkled her nose and added, "I do hope you at least have baths in this village. You obviously all need one."
"Sorry," Aila spat bitterly. "I wasn't exactly thinking about how dirty I was getting when I buried the rest of my family."
She took a small measure of satisfaction in the stunned expression Lilly took on at her sharp words. The huntress then turned and stormed out of the hut, Jordi and Melville close behind her. The door slammed on its hinges.
"Mi…milady…" Reed's voice trembled. "What kind of guides, exactly, have you gotten us…?"
"Do be quiet, Reed," snapped Lilly, glossing over her own sudden feelings of trepidation with a flash of anger at her attendant. "It's nothing for us to worry about."
Even as she stated that, however, the noblewoman secretly resolved to force the whole story out of one of the Grasslanders later. If they were to be traveling together, after all, it would only make sense to find out all she could about them, correct?