Finally, the introductory chapter for everyone's favorite wimpy castle master! Bear with me here, as what happens in this installment does have bearing on later events, and needed to be related. Oh, and see the first installment for all disclaimers/warnings.
~ * Helping Hands * ~
Thomas had never dreamed that managing a castle would involve so much walking.
Actually, he had never imagined that he would ever end up in charge of a castle in the first place, so who was he to judge? When he'd arrived in Vinay del Zexay searching for his father, the distinguished council member had shipped him off to Budehuc with little more than some curt orders and a piece of parchment proclaiming him the latest master of the lakeside mansion. There'd been no explanation of what, exactly, he was expected to do.
Since the property wasn't in pristine condition -- even without including the massive wreckage of some poor soul's ship that had somehow been incorporated into the building's design -- and their financial situation was rather pitiful, he was expected to figure out some way of solving their problems. So far, the only idea Thomas had been able to come up with was turning the grounds into a free trade zone. Such areas were common in his homeland, and it would be wonderful if he could bring that same sense of community to his new home.
Unfortunately, the success of such a venture hinged on how well known the area was. Budehuc was a fairly isolated place, tucked back on a coastline on the edge of Zexen and Grassland boundaries. The farming village of Iksay was within walking distance, but the townspeople living there couldn't be expected to help support the huge castle by themselves.
Which was why Thomas was currently trekking through the expansive plains south of the castle in hopes of spreading word of Budehuc Castle and its free state.
He was far from alone in this endeavor, of course. While Thomas still wasn't quite certain he was capable of becoming the great castle master that Budehuc's residents expected -- not to mention needed -- he was still more comfortable in that role than as a fighter. The short sword he carried was dull-edged; just as well, since he worried about stumbling and injuring either himself or one of his companions by accident.
So, like what he supposed was proper for a castle owner, he only traveled with an entourage. Although… he doubted many other manor lords employed the same types of bodyguards he possessed.
At his side, as she had been practically since his arrival at Budehuc, was the spirited young commander of the guards. …Never mind the tiny detail that her command consisted of merely herself when he'd first arrived. Since then, the ranks had swelled to include a stray dog she'd found recently and some of the more adventurous newcomers.
…Okay, so Cecile wasn't exactly your typical captain. Still, despite having only known her for a short time, Thomas was confident the girl was capable of handling the responsibility resting on her armor-clad shoulders. She was certainly talented in wielding that spear she carried, though it was longer than she was tall.
Small, pudgy fingers curled around his wrist, and Thomas looked down into shining brown eyes and a cheerful face. He smiled, and the beaming face beneath him brightened, before the girl abruptly released her grip and jogged ahead, giggling, the loose ends of the white ribbons binding her hair up into twin buns fluttering in the breeze.
On his last excursion, Thomas had stumbled across little Shabon lost in the streets of Vinay del Zexay. He'd helped reunite her with her traveling companions, and after learning that the trio were musicians, invited them to Budehuc. After learning more about the situation, the three had offered to accompany him. Apparently, their own tours helped them develop into surprisingly skilled fighters when the times called for it.
To be perfectly honest, Thomas had certain reservations about bringing the buskers along. When he'd invited them to Budehuc, he'd been thinking more along the lines of how wonderful it would be to have the bards entertain the other guests, not in terms of fighting ability. But he certainly couldn't refuse them the right to come along if they wished.
Besides, they couldn't be any worse warriors than he was.
Watching Shabon run ahead of him, circling round the legs of her two elder companions while laughing and shouting, almost allowed Thomas to forget that there were some very dangerous monsters that could possibly be lurking in the fields ahead.
After hugging the leg of the ever-quiet Toppo, the lanky fiddler placing one hand on top of her head and ruffling her short brown locks in response, Shabon wiggled free with a squeal and dashed over to the last member of their party.
…Or members, rather. Depended on how you looked at things.
"Hey, settle down!" the teenaged girl laughed, running the fingers of her left hand through her tan locks.
"Yeah, 'cause you know there are plenty of monsters out there ready to gobble a sweet little morsel like you up!" and the gruff, rasping voice ended its declaration with a snap of its gleaming white teeth and a loud, "GULP!"
Shabon, utterly unfazed by this, giggled and grabbed the nose of the aggressor with both pudgy hands. The lupine beast let out a startled yelp and flailed its arms.
"'Ey, leggo!"
"Serves you right for teasing her, Branky!" declared the blue-clad girl, rolling her eyes.
"………" Thomas blinked twice, then shook his head, words failing him.
Truth be told, the young master still didn't know quite what to make of the pair, despite the fact that Mel and Branky had been the first ones who'd decided to move to Budehuc after hearing about it from him. Mel was a nice enough girl, so long as you ignored the huge black and white wolf puppet that dominated her right arm. Branky never hesitated to speak out, barking out insults and rude remarks with no regard whatsoever to anyone else, not even Mel…
For her part, Mel insisted she had no skill as a ventriloquist, and as odd as it seemed, Thomas was inclined to believe her. Her voice sounded radically different from the wolf's, and, to Thomas at least, their arguments seemed genuine enough.
He was just glad there weren't any hard surfaces nearby that Mel could use to 'properly punish' Branky for his -- or what it her? -- teasing. No matter what else Mel claimed, he simply could not believe that repeatedly slamming the puppet's head into walls and rocks didn't hurt her arm…
"C'mon, kid, leggo!" Branky squealed, beady blue eyes squinting painfully as the giggling Shabon refused to relinquish her hold.
"Shabon, be nice to the puppet, now," the aquamarine-haired Nei chimed with her usual calm, placid tone.
Looking back at the elven maiden, Shabon nodded and released her grasp, standing on her tiptoes and stretching to pat the lupine puppet on the top of its head.
"Shabon is sorry, Branky," she said, giving both Mel and Branky a wide-eyed, innocent look.
"Don't worry about it, Shabon sweetie," replied Mel with a smirk. "Branky shouldn't be teasing such a cute young girl like you…"
"Right, I'll reserve it for the ugly ones, like…"
Branky's sentence remained unfinished as Mel unceremoniously drove her right fist into the ground, plowing the black-and-white wolf's face in the dirt. Nei hid her soft giggle behind a discretely raised hand, while Cecile laughed aloud. Thomas looked away uncomfortably, shuffling back and forth.
Surely, the experiences he'd had thus far with running Budehuc had to be unusual. If all castle masters turned out to deal with such matters on a daily basis…
The whistling of the wind rose into a shrill. Thomas gave a little squeak and jumped, cheeks almost immediately flushing pink from embarrassment.
(It's probably just the wind; I shouldn't be nervous; what could we run into out here on the plains, other than some armed rabbits and those flying fuzzy things…)
The girls' laughter had died down, and all five of his companions were gazing off to the east, six if you counted Branky. The moppet's blue eyes seemed to glitter with anticipation, the length of its pink tongue running over its shiny white teeth. Thomas even imagined he heard a faint growl coming from the lupine puppet -- though surely that was merely a product of his imagination, even if it was beginning to appear that earlier cry was not.
"Well, Mel," Branky chirped in an oddly conversational tone, "looks like things are finally getting interesting. Shall we?"
The blue-clad girl nodded sharply, short tan locks flouncing with the movement. Holding Branky out before her she advanced. With a practiced movement, Cecile loosened her grip on her spear, reached out, and briefly gripped Thomas's shoulder in what he assumed was supposed to be a reassuring manner.
"Don't worry, Master Thomas, leave it to me," she stated with complete confidence before choking up on the shaft of her weapon and striding forward to advance alongside the puppeteer.
Toppo and Nei shared a glance, then the juggler and maiden moved to follow closely behind the younger girls. With a not-quite discernable movement that Thomas failed to catch, Toppo brought out one of the small projectiles he used in combat, cradling it in the palm of his hand.
It was all Thomas could do to scurry after the rest of his group, barely keeping pace with Shabon while trying his hardest not to panic before even seeing whatever it was they were moving toward. It wasn't exactly flattering to him that a busker filly ten years his junior was acting more confident than the castle master. She didn't even have a real weapon to speak of!
…True, Shabon had more training with physical combat and defending herself barehanded than Thomas did with his dinky little blade. But, logistics aside, it looked rather odd for a teenaged boy to be slinking along behind a cute little girl, shooting worried glances left and right and feverishly hoping he'd only misheard the wind.
(I'm overreacting. I'm just overreacting… Please let me be overreacting…)
"Shabon will protect Big Brother Thomas."
The trembling boy blinked and looked down into wide, innocent brown eyes. The busker child beamed up at him. He managed a weak smile and nod for her sake, and was rewarded with her face lighting with even more confidence and pride.
"Thank you, Shabon…"
(Oh, dear. I really hope I'm overreacting…)
~ * ~
The pain was crippling, though it had dulled a great deal as wounds began to scab over and seal themselves naturally. But he was used to having friends treat his injuries right away with their magic and medicine. Strange how this was the worst he'd ever been hurt, yet for once, there was nobody there to help alleviate his suffering.
But that was because of the intruders. Home had burned, the smoke and flames consuming the bodies of the dead and driving the living away. The scents of friends mixed together with those of foes, the stench of metal and ash intruding on the far more comforting scents of leather and earth.
The Karayans had fled northward, Fubar could tell that much. Tracking the familiar scents was taking time, however, in part because of his poor condition. Instinct had first driven him to take care of his most immediate problem. His efforts snapped the shaft off the arrow that had nearly taken his eye, yet the flint remained lodged above the left socket, and the eye was almost swollen shut.
The rest of the griffon was in a similarly sorry state. His feathers were coated with soot and ash, the white fluff covering his chest matted with dried blood. His wings were folded against his heaving flanks: Fubar had enough sense not to attempt flying. That would sap his strength reserves much quicker than plodding along the ground was.
Fubar kept his head lowered, uninjured eye swiveling about. The monsters roaming the plains were of little threat to the griffon, even in his weakened condition. However, the same could not be said of possible human adversaries. Were he to run into any of the nasty ironclad intruders now, his talons and beak alone wouldn't be defense enough against their blades.
If he could just make it to wherever the others had fled, however, then everything would be fine. They would provide food, healing and shelter, just as they had before…
~ * ~
"What… is that?"
Cecile's voice was an awed whisper, and it sounded as if the young garrison commander wasn't certain whether she should be more concerned or amazed by the sight before her. Her grasp on her long spear tightened, and she unconsciously ducked her head a bit more while trying to tear her gaze away from the creature to the puppeteer crouching at her side.
The band of six was clustered together behind some low rocks, and they all observed the beast in relative silence, wide-eyed. Thomas found himself hunkered down just behind Cecile, peering over her shoulder and Shabon's head, struggling to keep his breathing relatively level.
"Looks like a griffon to me," observed Mel, matching the female soldier's hushed tone. Her normally bright tan eyes narrowed slightly in thought. "At least, I think so… I've seen them on flags and sigils before, so…"
"Nothing comparing to the genuine article, eh?" Branky was a bit louder than Thomas would have preferred. The lupine puppet was grinning in a decidedly disturbing manner, and again its long tongue lashed out to caress its chops as it declared, "Wonder what roasted griffon tastes like…"
"It is odd, indeed," agreed Nei, the soft-spoken songstress failing to acknowledge Branky's comment. "I've never seen a wild griffon with such strange attire before…"
It took Thomas a few moments to comprehend what the elven maid was referring to. The talon-like forepaws of the beast were adorned with thick bracers, with black fabric wrapped underneath to keep the clunky bracelets from rubbing uncomfortably against its claws. There was no way a feral animal could attain such a pair of decorations, so that had to mean…
"…Is that somebody's pet?" His voice squeaked faintly from incredulity.
To his immediate right, Toppo inclined his head in a clandestine nod. Despite this apparent revelation, however, the juggler's body remained taut, palming his weapon expectantly. A similar determination glittered in Cecile and Mel's eyes, the former girl gripping her spear and shield while the latter kept her puppet positioned close to the front of her chest. Branky grinned with anticipation.
Thomas felt a small shudder run down the base of his spine at the sight of the moppet's feral smirk. If their suspicions were correct and this griffon actually belonged to somebody… Oh, the prospect was just ghastly!
Mel and Cecile started to rise to their feet, and he knew with a sudden certainty that he couldn't allow this to happen -- it simply wasn't right to act without knowing more about the situation. Reaching out, he grasped both girls by their shoulders, though he didn't have the heart to apply much pressure.
"Wait!" he half-cried, half-whispered -- despite his suppositions, Thomas wasn't about to risk alerting the creature to their whereabouts just yet if he could help it.
Three pairs of eyes turned back to him. Cecile's bright blue ones and Mel's hazel ones widened with surprise, while Branky's icy ones narrowed in clear distaste. Though he didn't look over at the buskers, he could feel their gazes fixing upon him as well, just as curious as those before him. The bridge of his nose briefly flushed crimson, but he managed to fight down the awkwardness he felt.
"What?" snarled Branky, glaring at the boy.
"It's just… I don't think we should attack it. If that griffon turns out to really belong to someone, then…"
"Then what?" Branky hardly sounded nearly as concerned as Thomas felt. "So they shouldn't let their 'pet' run wild where it could hurt innocent travelers!"
"Actually, Shabon thinks the birdy looks more hurt than…"
"Oh, pipe down, pipsqueak."
"Shabon and Master Thomas are right," Cecile chimed in, automatically rising to the defense of her friends. "It's not some nasty monster, not really…"
Before she could continue the breeze shifted, the fresh gust sweeping from the north and catching their scent. Thomas was not a trained warrior, but he knew enough to recognize the concept of staying downwind.
The group froze, their gazes moving as one to where the griffon had abruptly gone rigid. The beast's head snapped upright, turning to face them. Thomas could see its right eye, the same brilliant hue of blue as the sky above, fix upon their huddled team. Its left eye was swollen shut; he hadn't been able to see that before.
A warning rumbled deep in the griffon's throat, its claws digging into the ground, toes splayed in a brace. The massive wings quivered at its sides, but failed to go completely taut. Thomas realized, with a flash of pity, that it was probable that the griffon couldn't fly with its injuries…
…Which made the situation all the more dangerous. Those who have no hope of escape fight all the harder against their enemy.
His dinky little sword hidden in its sheath, Thomas raised his hands in front of him and got unsteadily to his feet. The others followed suit, though Cecile still gripped her spear and shield, Toppo still fingered his projectile, and Mel kept Branky interposed between herself and the beast.
"Ooh, I don't like this," the blue-clad lass muttered. Shooting Thomas a sideways glance, she nearly choked on her own tongue when she saw what he was doing. "Hey, have you lost it?"
Thomas pretended not to hear her, heart pounding wildly against his ribcage as he stepped forward, squeezing between her and the garrison commander. Cecile fumbled with her spear before catching his shoulder, and he looked back into her face. The normally cheerful blue eyes were wide with concern, and perhaps just a hint of fear, though she disliked showing such negative emotions.
"Master Thomas, you…"
"Don't worry, Cecile. I have a good feeling…"
It wasn't really a lie, Thomas reasoned with himself, because he was really starting to feel that perhaps this confrontation didn't need to end with any sort of violence. Never mind the fact that his knees threatened to give out or start knocking against each other when he turned his attention back to the griffon.
Its single good eye was locked on him, and it continued to cry softly, holding its body taut, but it made no move to attack him. Thomas attempted what he hoped was a comforting smile, taking a hesitant step toward the griffon. When there was no reaction, he took a deep breath before advancing another step closer.
In truth, Fubar was extremely confused. These people carried such strange scents, but they didn't resemble his friends or the ironheads at all. The only one that came close was smaller and slighter than any enemy he'd seen, and something about the way she carried herself was different…
Now one of the strangers was approaching him. Fubar squalled and recoiled, feathers ruffling defensively, yet the boy kept slowly coming. Nervousness and worry radiated off his slight figure in waves, so palpable the griffon could almost taste them, yet there was no apparent threat in his stance.
"…Come on…" the boy coaxed, carefully extending his right hand palm-up toward the suspicious beast. "Don't be frightened… please… don't be afraid…"
"Thomas…" the girl in armor murmured, shifting her weight.
The shaft of her spear clanked against her armor, the sound ringing in Fubar's ears. The uninjured blue pupil dilated, flashes of vibrant memory engulfing his senses. The ironheads came, burned the homeland to ashes, murdered his friends with their flashing weapons of steel…
Screeching, Fubar snapped, catching a brief tang of fresh blood in his mouth as his beak raked briefly over flesh.
"Ahhh…!"
Thomas yanked backward immediately, a thin trail of red following his hand as he pulled it up against his chest, folding his other over it. His entourage jumped as one, Cecile's eyes widening at the sight of her lord's blood.
"Master Thomas--!" she squealed, spear jolting in her trembling grasp as she choked up on the shaft.
"I warned you…!" Branky howled. "Mel…!"
"Right!"
Mel nodded swiftly, raising her right hand high overhead and calling upon the rune concealed beneath the puppet. Shabon hopped up beside Cecile, tiny hands balled into fists, Toppo and Nei standing behind the younger girls. The juggler brought his hand back in preparation to strike, while Nei began the familiar chanting of one of her Jongleur Rune's spellsongs.
"Wa…wait!"
Thomas threw his uninjured left hand back toward them, fright evident in his clear brown eyes. The command held just enough sharpness to command attention, and his bodyguards froze, as once again all eyes were on the boy.
"Thomas…" Cecile started again.
"St…stand down, Cecile." He managed a pained smile, hiding a wince behind a wink. "It's okay, he's just scared… I don't blame him…"
"Hey! When did it suddenly become a 'him', huh?" demanded Branky irritably.
Keeping the same sad little smile, Thomas turned his attention back to the griffon. Fubar recoiled, blue eye staring, the edge of hysteria giving way to increased confusion.
Why weren't they attacked? Fubar could sense how much the humans wished to attack after seeing him snap at the boy. The armored girl's pointed metal stick quivered slightly in her grasp, the barbed tip catching the sunlight. The odd girl in blue with the black-and-white creature on her hand matched her companion's confused expression. The lupine beast itself, meanwhile, bared its teeth at him, looking the most eager out of the bunch to attack.
So why weren't they? In his condition, it would be easy to overwhelm him, and yet…
The only one that advanced was the boy. As the griffon watched intently, the lad stopped cradling his injured hand against his chest and slowly reached forward again. Fubar could see the gouge he'd ripped in the palm: a shallow gash, more a glancing blow than a serious rip. Were he more composed, not already so weakened by his prior injuries, there was little doubt he would have taken off at least one of his fingers.
Yet he refused to back down. He refused to attack the griffon and seal his fate.
Instead, Thomas reached out toward the griffon, bloodstained palm turned upright, a slight smile of welcome lighting up his pain-twisted face.
"If you want… we can help you. I have a castle where you'd be welcome for as long as it takes for you to heal and find your friends again… So, please…"
"Hang on! You think that monster understands…"
"Cram it, Branky!" hissed Mel, driving the puppet's face into the dirt.
Fubar keened lowly, wings flexing briefly as he stood regarding the strange boy and his followers. These people were… not Karayans… not enemies, either. Though one of them wore shiny clothing like the ironheads, she still looked different, somehow… Her eyes…
Fubar rarely got to see the eyes of the soldiers he fought. There had been the murderer who struck down Luce, but this youngster definitely didn't resemble him. There was a completely different quality around her.
As for the boy himself… His eyes… were clear like Lulu's, or Jimba's. They were the type of eyes Fubar felt he could trust.
"Kue…"
Fubar bent his head down, allowing the boy's hesitant fingers to gently trace over the tip of his beak, then stray up to between his eyes. The single blue sphere remained fixed on Thomas, silently conveying the conviction he was laying on those frail shoulders.
"Master Thomas…!" Cecile exhaled sharply, relief flooding over the garrison commander.
"It appears we will be heading back to Budehuc sooner than we expected," observed Nei.
"Sorry about this," Thomas apologized, looking back at his associates.
His expression was an interesting mixture of jubilance and contrition. Nei smiled reassuringly, aquamarine eyes twinkling with amusement, long cerulean braids flouncing behind her as she gently shook her head.
"There's no reason to apologize, Master Thomas. I simply didn't expect we'd be recruiting a griffon today…"
Thomas blinked. Recruiting…? The thought hadn't crossed his mind, truth be told. All he saw was someone suffering, so naturally he had to offer what assistance he could…
"This is amazing!" All traces of Cecile's earlier trepidation had evaporated, and she had apparently reverted to her usual bouncy self as she stepped forward, spear no longer threatening. "Alright, boy, let's think of a good name for you…"
"…Kue?" The griffon tilted his head inquiringly to one side.
"Ho boy," Branky shook its head discouragingly, rolling its beady blue eyes. "Sebastian is going to love this…"