"The weak are those who cling to hope, and die with it. The strong are those who cling to life, and survive."

(by the First Emperor Vollachia, before the Great Calamity)

Chapter 1: Crimson Afterglow

Hope.

Hope meant many things. It took on many forms.

For some, hope was a trivial thing. A merchant might hope to find someone interested in buying an expensive item, or a desk worker might hope for a day off to spend with relatives.

For some, hope was grand. An emperor would hope to rule over the entire world, or a great general would hope to go down in history with fame and renown.

Hope was what kept people going. It gave them purpose, motivation, and helped them reach their goals.

Hope was what everyone clung to in times of need. When the night seemed endless or a challenge insurmountable, people held onto hope as best they could and trudged on through.

For a certain man, a lowly officer in service to a majestic empress-to-be, hope lay on the battlefield, dead like the woman he had sworn to serve until his last breath.

Off in the distance, explosions still rocked the forest. Here and there, a scream pierced the deafening silence, resonating and echoing until it died out. Corpses, torn and mutilated and burned and maimed, littered the area as far as the eye could see, their blood seeping into the roots underneath the scorched dirt.

He took a step, forcing his body to keep moving. To stay still was to give up, and to give up was to die.

But, had he not given up already?

All was lost. Everything he had dedicated his life for, the cause he had bled and killed for, had gone up in flames, turned to ashes by that detestable brat's Yang Sword.

Another step, and something under his torn boot squelched, seeped in through the cracks in his footwear. In a moment of weakness, he allowed himself to look down.

Of course, what lay beneath him had once been one of his comrades, bearing the emblem of House Godwin on that mangled uniform's breast pocket. The body had been cleaved apart in so many pieces that it was hard to call it a body at this point. It was difficult to even identify if…they had even been human or not.

He forced himself to look upward, blinking away the tears that obscured his vision. The forest around him rippled with the battle's aftershocks. A yell pierced the air, a guttural cry for vengeance, and was cut short as a vile wail marked that warrior's end.

Curse them! Curse them all! Agony and misery upon Houses Abellux and Benedict! If those dogs had known their place…

How did it even come to this?

It was only yesterday that victory was in Lady Godwin's grasp, and the Crystal Palace all but flew her flag. This was a clean-up, tying up some loose ends before their victorious march on Lupugana itself. This was what Drizen Vollachia had intended, glory to him. This was what he had expected since the day the Selection Ceremony began, and those despicable rats had just…just…!

It was supposed to be a day of revelry, not of mourning…

Everything was so cold, and so hot…did he have a fever? That cut on his forehead was barely even noticeable, but it was bleeding an awful lot.

What did he even have left? What would he say to his father and mother? Would they welcome him?

Why did he survive, when he had nothing? It was even more merciful to stumble across that butcher, the Blue Lightning, and let him put an end to this.

How? How had he even made it here? Had the strings of fate dragged him to this dreadful place so he could meet his inglorious end, or so he could live on with this appalling memory haunting him forever?

A root snagged his foot, and he fell face-first on the dirt. It barely hurt, for some reason. There was a sting in his face, though, as he stood, and he noticed his nose was twisted unnaturally. What a shame. He would have taken a broken finger or two over a broken nose. He was quite fond of his face.

If he ever got out of this forest, he wa-

Thwip.

Something struck his back, right between his shoulder blades. It felt like a bee sting, but…numb? It was…hard to explain…

As if…he could not feel anything…

Without warning, his knees gave way, and he fell once more, this time on his back. Whatever had lodged itself below his nape dug itself even deeper, but it did not hurt. Nothing hurt.

Above him, the canopy of trees blocked out the sunlight, but a single ray fell on him. What a coincidence. What luck…

One of the tree branches moved, and a figure hopped down from one branch to another, then repeated that until it landed on the ground, a meter or two behind him.

When the figure approached, he recognized the hated emblem of House Abellux on its shoulder. That was all he could see, for some reason. His vision was getting blurry. On its right hand, the figure carried a long stick of sorts. It was like…a tube. A…a fuyika, was it? Fukiya?

"Tough luck, Godwin dreg." A woman's voice. Muffled. Why was his hearing not working either? "Give your 'empress' my regards, rat."

He saw the figure raise its boot, and as it came do-

The battle for the Abellux Domain would, in the coming years, be given many names.

The facts of the battle were thus: in an attempt to bring the Emperor Selection Ceremony to a close, Lamia Godwin led a charge against her half-brother and greatest rival, Vincent Abellux, with the aid of Prisca Benedict.

When the battle ended, the Ceremony continued, but House Godwin would be put out of the running forever.

Some claimed that Lamia turned tail and fled, disappearing to live peacefully in shame, or maybe to plot her return in secret. Some claimed that, when faced with insurmountable odds, she surrendered and was executed, or held captive, or maybe she never surrendered at all, and instead turned her Yang Sword upon herself to spare her House the shame of seeing its leader in chains.

House Abellux's soldiers had clear orders. They were to make an example of House Godwin, so that none may threaten the future Emperor of Vollachia. As such, of those who fought on the losing side, few escaped with their lives. Those that did not were used as a warning against any who might try their hand against the soon-to-be Vincent Vollachia.

A few officers, those of the highest rank, were spared under the condition that they join House Abellux. Officers of lower rank were not given the opportunity, and were slain outright.

By the time the battle was over, hours after it began, the forest ran red with blood. All in the Empire, from Glarasia to Chaosflame, understood the cost of crossing Vincent Abellux and his henchmen.

Not that it would amount to much, though that would come to be known in its own time…

It was in that very forest, however, that the future of the Empire - of the world - changed forever, when the threads of fate were woven by the Observers on high.

The first thread was a lowly officer without a cause, delivered on a silver platter to his tormentors, to the very men and women who destroyed what he cared for.

The second thread was a great strategist, a man who could outsmart almost anyone in the Empire, who saw the great importance of taking a risk and going against his master.

The third thread was a mercenary, one whose employer wound up losing, and whose very life was threatened in what was supposed to be an easy job.

The fourth thread was a young Spirit-Eater, overflowing with loyalty and wracked by guilt, who served House Benedict since childhood and would betray it for its own good.

The fifth thread, the final thread, would fall into place without the Observers' influence, woven by someone else, a power that they could not match.

That last thread would be the most influential, the one to bring all the others together, and its actions would change history forever.

That thread was…

It was hot.

It was so hot.

He was sweating. His clothes felt like they were sticking to him, and they were all moist. His black hair was damp and uncomfortable. What little sunlight broke through the dense mantle of leaves high in the air, atop the trees, felt hot enough to leave burn marks.

What had happened?

Japan usually had a nice weather in November. At most, it would get a little warm, but nothing more. And now, suddenly, it was…hot. And it was humid. And it was filled with trees. And…it was so silent.

Nothing stirred. The tree leaves above swayed gently in the wind, letting some sunlight filter through, but the soft breeze was the only sound he could hear. It felt nice, and it was welcome in this searing heat, but the silence was unnerving. It was scary.

Where was everyone?

Where?

Where was his m-

"ABELLUX FILTH! YOU'LL PA-"

A shrill scream pierced the silence, and then ended as abruptly as it began.

Slowly, steadily, he backed up until he felt himself hit a tree. Where was he? What was going on?

In his panic, he did not hear the footsteps approaching him until a figure stood in front of him.

Whatever it was, it was not human. Its skin was a dark red patchwork of scales. Its fingers ended in long black claws. Its face was elongated and reptilian, like a dinosaur's, with sharp fangs, and its whole body was covered in splotches of red. The thing was like a small red Godzilla dressed in an orange coat, and carrying…something on its back. Judging by the sharp end, it was likely a spear.

As he looked up at the creature, it grimaced, showing off its rows of teeth. A strange sound came from its throat, and it took him a moment to recognize it as laughter. In a raspy deep voice, the creature spoke, "Well~, this is most unusual~. What brings a chil~d to a warzone l~ike this?" It wet its lips with a forked tongue, hissing quietly. "And you have no uniform, do you now? To which House do you bel~ong, boy?"

"Um…uh-mm…"

"Tsss, does that mean you don't know?" The creature narrowed its eyes and tilted its head. "How strange, indeed. Who're you with, then? Who brought you here?" A pause. "The Gairahal~ Tropics are no pl~ace for a chil~d."

"B-b-but, I don't…I…I'm l-lost…"

"L~ost? And you just wandered into the biggest battl~e in the worl~d? Tsss, I shoul~d find your parents and g-"

For a heartbeat, it seemed as if all sound had vanished from a world, and in the next, it returned at full force. A deafening blast shook the ground and turned the world white for an instant, then ripped through the silence like a lightning strike. A few rays of sunlight beamed down on him as the trees above wobbled in the ensuing shockwave. He pushed himself against the tree behind him, curling up in fear, while the reptilian creature in front of him just tilted its head in confusion.

With a sharp inhale, the giant lizard hissed, "Well~, this has been l~ovel~y, but it seems not all~ of L~amia's manservants understood their…situation. A tragedy, what happened today, but oh well~." It lowered its voice, as if to whisper, but spoke loudly enough for him to hear. "I do bel~ieve Miss Benedict woul~d benefit from my services…tsss, how annoying. I'll~ have to work with that dog. Better than the L~ightning, I suppose…"

It muttered something to itself and turned around, facing away from him. Nothing of note lay in that direction, or in any direction, for that matter. It was all just trees, a forest as far as the eye could see.

"Tsss, al~right, boy," the lizard sighed, raising its head. "Best of l~uck. My future job is call~ing, and who am I to refuse?" It began walking forward, away from him, then turned to look at him from the corner of its eye and sneered, but did not stop. "If you get out of here, l~ook for me in L~upugana. Perhaps we'll~ meet under better circumstances then."

Another explosion tore through the relative quiet, making the world tremble, and by the time it came to an end, the lizard was nowhere to be seen.

Blue was Cecilus's color.

It had always been that way, for as long as he could remember. His first sword had been blue, his hair was blue, his clothes were blue, his sandals were blue, his eyes were blue, his father's hair was blue, and so on and so forth.

Blue was his color, which meant that he was a little irritated at the fact that his perfectly-blue clothes had been practically dyed red by all those House Godwin soldiers he cut down. Seriously, how hard was it to show a little decency and not bleed all over the guy who just slashed them in half? Rude!

And now, when he got back to the manor, he would have to put his whole outfit to wash! Chisha was a neat guy, but sometimes his desire to keep the Abellux manor clean bordered on obsession, and he had his eyes on Cecilus ever since the latter accidentally toppled a priceless vase in the manor's dining room during a fight. Seriously, they were blaming him! Him! And not the assassin who broke in through a window and left a trail of glass and blood all over the right wing's ground floor hallway!

To top it all off, Vincent had said this might be the last major battle of the Selection Ceremony, which meant that someone would soon claim the throne. All fine by Cecilus, really, as he did not care much who reigned in the Empire, but an end to the Ceremony meant a period of peace! Peace meant sitting around doing nothing! And where was the fun in that!? Was he destined to become some lame office worker like Chisha!? The horror!

"Is that because you don't know how to write?"

"I'm perfectly capable of writing! And reading, too! How do you think the world's star actor reads his own script!?"

"With…with your eyes, dumbass."

"Well, duh! How else!?"

"Hm. Do you accept criticism?"

"Nope! This conversation's over!"

Cecilus had been assigned a most-important task during the battle: to wipe out Godwin's Pruning Corps, her most powerful soldiers and personal bodyguards. He succeeded without breaking a sweat, of course, but now he was left with the much-less-riveting task of hunting down any survivors who might try to make a run for it. In Vincent's exact words: "The less you clean up now, the more my venerable self will have to dispose of later, and that would not bode well for you."

Putting the very vague threat aside for a moment, that honestly sounded awesome! Maybe His Majesty did not like fighting but Cecilus did! He could and would handle these measly ruffians today and tomorrow and whenever they might show up! Like his favorite motto said: "Why do today what you can leave for tomorrow?"

Nonetheless, he was stuck with this horrid assignment! All he had to do was walk around the Tropics for a while and look for anyone with an orange uniform! At least they could give him some entertainment, right!? Maybe put some traps in the forest so he could have a little challenge or something…

Right now, his only real challenge was not yawning or passing out from boredom. Oh, that, and trying to make small talk with his co-worker, the Spirit Eater.

Cecilus barely knew Arakiya, to be fair. He knew of her title, that she served Prisca, and that she currently felt like, quote, "Someone fished her out from the bottom of the Great Cascade" because she - true to her name - devoured a part of the Great Spirit Muspel.

It did not much bother Cecilus that this girl his age almost committed deicide, but some others seemed to take it as a big deal, so…whatever.

What did bother Cecilus was the girl's gloom-and-doom personality. She was still recovering from her gamble with Muspel, that much he understood, but that was still no reason for her to act like…like some lost puppy! She had spent the better part of the last two hours sulking and pouting and giving terse one-word answers to any attempt at conversation he began. Only rarely did she genuinely interact with him, and even then, it was only to insult him! Seriously, if she was not the only living person he could see for blocks around, he would have walked away! There were few in the world who would scoff at the signature Segmunt charisma!

When he pointed that out to her, however, the Spirit Eater only replied by whispering, "Careful not to fall off your ego and die."

The Blue Lightning smirked. That jab hurt - he was the humblest guy around! - but that was probably the longest sentence she had spoken in the past few hours! Progress!

"Haha! I'm very careful when it comes to that!" he boasted, puffing his chest out. Of course he was! He was the most careful guy around, too! Well…maybe Vincent had him beat in that regard. "After all, when people tell me to break a leg, I'm sure they don't mean it literally, ha!"

"I do." Arakiya's tone was completely flat, as if she were commenting on the color of the sky. "I mean it literally."

With a fake gasp of pain, the swordsman clutched his heart with both hands and winced. "Ouch! You wound me, lil' doggie! Were I not destined for greatness, I would've quit acting by now! So much hate for such a modest rising star!"

For the first time, Arakiya turned to look him in the eye and showed an iota of emotion, twisting her mouth in a disgusted sneer. She seemed on the verge of speaking, but kept quiet, merely shaking her head in disbelief.

Cecilus crossed his arms and kept walking alongside her, wearing an exaggerated pout on his face that he hoped would convey the full extent of his hurt. She did not show any reaction to it.

Suddenly, the Spirit Eater froze, narrowing her eyes. She lifted that strange three-pronged wand she carried and pointed it at a random tree. For a few seconds, she stared at it, unmoving, and showing as little emotion as she had shown earlier. Cecilus put a hand to his chin in thought and was about to make a snarky comment when he heard leaves rustle in the direction of the tree.

"I surrender!" came a shrill voice behind the tree trunk. Its owner emerged carefully, a young, petite woman in her middle teens wearing the orange uniform of House Godwin. Her furry ears and whiskers marked her as some sort of feline demi-human, and a very scared one at that. She seemed to be barely holding herself together, and teetering on the brink of a full emotional breakdown. Cecilus supposed that her wound, a gash along her right arm that left it hanging by a scrap of skin, played a role in that.

Arakiya held her wand pointed at the surrendering soldier, her face blank enough to have been put as the picture under "stoic" in the dictionary.

"I'm sorry," the soldier half-sobbed, raising her good arm. A lone tear slid down her face and fell on the forest's ground below. "I surrender. Please. I'm sorry, I didn't…they told me to come here! They would have killed me if I refused!" She let out an anguished cry and fell on her knees, looking up at them. "You…you're not after me! I'm just a soldier! My officer, his name is…he's a First-Class Soldier! Criff Montier! I'm sorry! I didn't…if I'd known…!"

Cecilus scratched his head. "Gee, doggie, this girl's down on her luck. I'm kinda surprised she's even in the Godwin army, y'know?"

That comment made the soldier's face go pale. "No! You don't understand! I'm…I am an officer! I was in c-charge of uni-niforms! A logistics officer, they called me! I ov-versaw th-the uniform inspections fo-for a few squads! I'm not who you're-you are after!"

"Bo~ring," he whistled. "Uniforms? That's a death sentence! Death by boredom! Who gets excited about looking at a couple old clothes, huh? And here I'd thought we'd found someone worth our time…"

Arakiya drew her wand back, and her expression did not change one bit as she called forth a horizontal blade of invisible air and sent it forward. The Blue Lightning turned away as it cut cleanly through the soldier's neck and the tree behind her, vanishing afterward.

As the soldier's corpse fell on the ground, Cecilus raised an eyebrow. "Did you re~ally have to do that? I mean, I'm not complaining, but you could've given it a bit of flair. It's super depressing to just kill someone like that."

"'Flair?'" The younger girl looked insulted that he had even suggested that. "You save your 'flair' for yourself, Cecilus Segmunt. Some of us take our jobs seriously."

Without waiting for him, she resumed walking forward, stepping over the recently-deceased, headless soldier and the forming pool of blood under her. Cecilus followed close behind, side-stepping the cadaver so as to not get blood on his sandals. Why did he have to get paired up with the one person in the whole world who stood as his opposite!?

And yet, as she walked away, he smiled triumphantly at the fact that she had said his name for the first time.

Chisha was probably having the worst day of his life, but it was a business day, and he could not call in sick…or wounded.

His numerous titles and magnificent intellect made him a crucial part of any plan Vincent Abellux drew up, so the Emperor-to-be could hardly afford his best advisor a day off, even if the other man deserved it after being run through the chest and turned white as an egg. Still, letting the man take such injuries was a slip-up on Vincent's behalf, and he owned up to his mistakes like a sensible man, so he allowed for this meeting to take place in the makeshift medical tent where his soldiers were recovering.

Chisha, as an officer and a Second-Class General, received finer accommodations, which included a very thin curtain to give some privacy and access to exactly one painkiller, which did not help much given that the man probably had his liver up his throat and looked like somebody replaced all his blood with paint.

Holding a conversation with such a grievously wounded man was already difficult, but it was made even harder by the incessant groans of pain coming from throughout the tent. There were almost three dozen people in tents like this one, and about a dozen of them in this one specifically, all of them injured so badly that the healers argued they would not survive a trip back to the Abellux manor. If it had been up to Vincent, he would have put all his healers to work on getting Chisha back up, even if it meant leaving the others to bleed out, but someone had talked him out of that idea.

Well…he always did have a soft spot for his sister, so he supposed he could grant her request this one time.

As the Abellux heir sat on a very uncomfortable stool beside his advisor's blood-stained bed, he gave a cursory glance around the "room." It was really just the back end of the tent, and it contained little more than a bed, a stool, and a chest with a myriad of medicinal herbs and potions atop it. Vincent had heard rumors of healing magic potent enough to make lethal wounds become a thing of the past, though most rumors placed that magic in Lugnica, far from his reach.

For a couple seconds, he held his gaze on the sleeping Chisha, who barely stirred. Such healing magic would have come in very handy at a time like this, but only a handful of powerful healers existed in Vollachia. It was said healing magic required a care for life, which was hard to find in the Empire. What a pain…

Still, Vincent had already set a plan in motion. If he was successful, he would secure the throne and the Empire in one fell swoop. All he needed was to get word from the Imperial Hand agents in Lugnica. Any day now…

On the bed, Chisha groaned and opened his eyes with noticeable effort. It took him a moment to come to his senses, but once he did, he sighed wearily and crossed his hands over his chest. The General's black uniform did a decent enough job at concealing just how much blood he had lost.

Despite his injuries, Chisha managed a weak smile, which soon vanished when he began coughing. As soon as he was done, he spoke, "I must say…I believed Your Highness would be…preoccupied with other matters…especially with our recent victory, no?"

"You have heard of it," Vincent stated. He was not surprised. So many soldiers in one spot, and all it would take was one of them to start a rumor. Thankfully, this rumor in particular was true. "Lamia Godwin is dead, and among the prisoners is her advisor, Berstetz Fondalfon."

"Sir Fondalfon is wise." Despite his hoarse voice, Chisha sounded enthusiastic. "He surely…knows better than to…fight in the name of petty revenge. I must say…I look forward to our talks." That much was to be expected. In the past months, Berstetz had proven Chisha's equal more than once, and if it had not been for a select few key figures like Cecilus, the outcome of this battle might have been radically different.

Shaking his head, Vincent leveled his tone as he said, "Fondalfon is a footnote, at the moment. Manesque will surely go into hiding without Lamia's support."

"Yes, yes…Palladio Manesque, the Evil Eye. He can hardly…stand up to us…Your Highness. Let me call upon…our Shinobis…or perhaps our friends in the…Hand."

That got the Emperor-to-be's attention, and he finally gave a minuscule smile. Chisha knew very well that the Imperial Hand, the Emperor's assassins and spies, were forbidden from participating in the Selection Ceremony, and he would never have mentioned them…unless…

"Why, Your Highness," the wounded man nodded, "By the time…we get to Lord Manesque's estate…he'll be long gone to Lugnica, I fear. We'd have more luck…looking for him…in the Fourtour Plains." Chisha's smile returned, and his pale face seemed lit up with delight, despite his weakness. "I must say…I'm sure a certain…Argyle will tell us…Your Highness."

This was it. At last, the Empire knew the path toward its future. Healing magic would soon become one of its most powerful tools, and it would only be part of an ever-expanding arsenal. Drizen Vollachia had been a fool for the most part, and Vincent would have been ashamed to call the man his father, but the old man's fixation on war granted him the drive to do whatever the Empire needed whenever it was needed.

Such as infiltrating a web of spies into Lugnica. A web of spies that, now, had given him the name and location of the person who would grant the Empire its latest weapon.

Chisha laughed softly, his voice low and gravelly, but Vincent was not laughing. This was no laughing matter.

His agents had their target. Now, it was time for the more difficult part.

They would not fail.

"Alright, now I'm thinking of a number between one and ten!"

"Seven."

"Again!? That's the fourth time in a row!"

"Then pick a different number, nitwit."

Cecilus bent down and picked up a rock. It was shaped like an egg, and white, which was pretty interesting. Not many people in Vollachia owned egg rocks. That was neat. "Huh? D'you say something?"

He heard Arakiya groan, a couple steps behind him. With a grin, he turned and tossed the egg rock at her, and she burned it to ash before it got within arm's length of her. The embers flew away, scattered in the soft breeze, and Cecilus's smile vanished. There went his egg rock, his only source of joy in this forest.

Two hours and a half. That was how much of his life he had wasted looking for survivors in the forest. It was depressing! He could have been doing literally anything else, but no, he had to be here, in the middle of nowhere, doing something he did not even enjoy!

In the past two hours and a half, they only found three survivors from Godwin's army. Two of those were sniveling soldiers who begged for mercy and swore to never ever go against Vincent again. He was not interested in those, and he paid little heed when the Spirit Eater disposed of them.

One of those, however, had been a six-armed giant! Cecilus had recognized the Pruning Corps emblem on his chest. It made sense, after all, to assign one of Vollachia's toughest demi-human species as a bodyguard. The giant had been an officer, a Third-Class General! They had found him sitting cross-legged in the middle of the forest, and Cecilus had tried his hardest to convince him to leave. The Pruning Corps had proven no match for the Blue Lightning, but maybe with a few more years under his belt, this General could have grown into an opponent worth dueling!

Safe to say, Arakiya squashed those hopes by beheading him like the rest, claiming that it was her princess's orders.

That officer had been the only ray of hope Cecilus had found in the entire Gairahal Tropics. The egg rock counted as half a ray, at best, and Arakiya had done away with both!

In the distance, Cecilus spotted a figure approaching, and he grinned once again. Maybe this time, the little doggie would not ruin his chance at having some fun. She did seem ready to do just that, narrowing her eyes and lifting her wand toward the stranger.

Both of them turned out to be mistaken in their assumptions, however. The newcomer was a tall woman, clad in the crimson uniform of House Abellux. She was carrying a motionless blonde man with a small dart on his back. The woman, well into her middle years, bowed slightly when she recognized them, and muttered something about glory and Vincent before passing them. Cecilus frowned, disappointed, and kept walking, but Arakiya remained frozen. She tilted her head to the side, scowled, and looked toward her left. There was nothing there but trees.

"Wha~t's up?" he chuckled, taking a step toward her. "Find something interesting? Please? I think we could do with something interesting to pass the time, do you?"

"Quiet." The Spirit Eater pursed her lips, staring intently at the vast expanse of nothingness ahead of her. "Someone's…crying?"

"Yeah! Me! From boredom! Gee, you couldn't find anything worth our time!?"

A tiny flame appeared at the end of his ponytail, scorching his hair for a few seconds before vanishing. "I told you to be quiet," Arakiya spat. "Let me listen."

He was quiet, and he could still hear nothing. Arakiya, on the other hand, did seem very intent on whatever she was hearing. So much so, in fact, that she began walking toward it. Whatever, he thought. As long as something worth his time came out of this, he would not complain. Not that some crybaby would be worth his time.

He followed Arakiya - lagging a few steps behind - and after almost a minute of walking, he heard a faint cry in the distance. The Spirit Eater gripped her wand tightly and shook her head. "Lizardman footsteps," she pointed out. "House Godwin had a lizardman mercenary."

Cecilus looked at the ground, noticed the footsteps, and chuckled. That mercenary had been one of Godwin's finest. Maybe he would be worth the Blue Lightning's time.

They followed the crying to a particular tree that looked just like all the others in the Tropics. At its base was a child, most likely only a few years younger than Cecilus himself. His black hair was all ruffled and messy, and if his eyes were not so mean-looking and teary, he might have passed as Vincent's younger brother. Vincent never cried. Cecilus suspected the man was born with that permanent frown on his face.

What stood out the most, however, was the boy's outfit: a vibrant multicolored shirt with short orange pants. His shoes were also strange, and very different from what anyone in Vollachia would ever wear. Overall, it seemed to be a noble's attire, but it was unlike anything Cecilus had seen before, and it seemed made from a different material than any he had ever seen. It sure did not resemble his kimono at all.

To his right, the Spirit Eater pointed her wand at the kid, who whimpered and scurried backward until he hit the tree trunk behind him. Cecilus looked between the strange boy and Arakiya, then reached out and stole the dog-girl's wand, shoving it into his belt, beside his swords. The boy turned his gaze toward him, his eyes filled with fear. Arakiya just glared at him and extended her hand.

"Segmunt." Her tone was sharper than her wind blades. "Give me the wand, Segmunt." She stepped toward him and tried to take the wand from his belt, but he sidestepped and easily avoided her. "It doesn't belong to you, give it back. I'm not chasing you. Hand it over."

"Now, now," Vollachia's strongest half-sang, taking another step backwards to stay out of his companion's reach, "I can't just give you this back, lil' doggie!" He lowered his voice a bit. "See, every time we come across somebody with a speck of orange on their clothes, you cut their heads off before I can properly introduce myself. How am I supposed to be the world's lead actor if you kill my audience?"

"This child is hardly your audien-"

"But he could be, right? Right!? And besides, why would Lamia even bring a kid to a battlefield, huh?"

Arakiya seemed to stare into his soul. "Same reason they brought us."

"You're kidding!" He pointed to the sniveling child and gave a disbelieving laugh. "You think he's on our level!? Wow, that explains why House Benedict is the weakest of them all…"

"This is no laughing matter. You don't know why he's here, and you don't know what he can do. Give me my wand."

Cecilus yawned as he dodged her once again, walking toward the sniveling kid by the tree. He stretched his arm and grabbed the kid by the back of his shirt, effortlessly lifting him up to his feet. "We~ll, Vincent asked me to bring him anyone of importance alive, and I certainly think some crybaby in the middle of a warzone counts as someone of importance."

"You think?"

"There's a first time for everything, lil' doggie!" With a chuckle, the Blue Lightning began walking in the direction he presumed the Abellux Domain was. "You'll have to ask Vincent for your wand, by the way!"

He felt the boy struggle in his grip. "H-hey!" he cried out, fighting in vain against Vollachia's strongest. "Where are y-you going!? Where are you taking me!? Let me go! I want m-my dad!" He put up a futile attempt at digging his heels in the dirt, but Cecilus kept going like nothing, his smirk growing wider every moment.

"Listen, kid," Cecilus half-laughed, "If your dad came here, he's probably dead! Condolences! Now, why don't we get you somewhere that's not a boring old forest?"

"Segmunt," came Arakiya's razor-sharp voice. "Segmunt."

"What!? Aren't you coming!? And I told you already, you'll get your wand back later!"

There was a moment of silence, and Cecilus had taken more than a dozen steps before Arakiya hissed, "You're going the wrong way."

He stopped dead in his tracks and turned to see the dog-girl pointing to her left. His smile did not falter as he retraced his steps and set off toward the Abellux Domain, but heading the right way this time.

After a few seconds, he heard Arakiya start walking behind him.

He was scared.

There was no shame in admitting it. He was truly afraid of this place, of these people!

He was in his home, he had to be! This had to be a very bad dream! Or some sort of poor joke!

The blue guy had dragged him here, literally! And now he was stuck in a weird medieval carriage with some half-asleep man. There were lots of mean-looking people around, and most of them were not human! There were some like that lizard creature from earlier!

But the worst was that girl! The one with the wand! She kept glaring at him like he had done something wrong! The blue guy had been covered in something, though he refused to believe it was blood, but it was the girl with the wand who really terrified him.

"Kid," came a tired voice, and he turned to look at the half-asleep with whom he shared this…carriage thing. The man was slender, almost wiry, and his head was adorned with the brightest yellow hair that he had ever seen. His brown eyes were half-lidded, which made him look asleep, and his long nose was bent at a weird angle. A thick layer of something - probably blood, but he did not want to admit it - was splattered across his entire face and even on his muddy orange uniform. One of his black boots was missing, and the one he still had bore a large tear across its left side.

The man's eyes, although mostly closed, seemed to be looking at him.

"Hey, kid," he repeated in a high-pitched yet hoarse voice. "This…you shouldn't…how are you here?"

"I…I don't know," he admitted. It was true, but the man did not seem to believe him. "I was…I wasn't here earlier, but…"

"War is…no place for children…you need…to…get back…parents…"

"I want to! B-but, how!?"

The man laughed, and halfway through, his chuckles became sobs. "They…wouldn't hurt you…no…let you go…unlike…me…kill me…"

He felt his face blanch. "Huh!? But, what did you do!? Who are they!?"

"They're the winners," the man sighed. "I lost…and they didn't…"

There was silence. He tried to understand the situation, the fact that this man would die for "losing," but…

"My parents…wouldn't be proud…me…"

A lone tear slid down the man's face, splashing onto his pumpkin-colored coat. With another sigh, he closed his eyes.

"Hey! You two!"

A woman stepped into sight, standing outside the carriage and flanked by two men with swords. She wore a red uniform, and her face was fixed into a scowl. That was what he tried to focus on, and not the fact that she only had one eye. Not like a pirate, no: she only had one eye, right in the center of her face, above her nose.

"Alright, you two blemishes," she spat with almost inhuman anger. "You're the only prisoners so far, so I have to deal with you. What're your names?"

The orange man mumbled something, cleared his throat, and said, "Criff…Criff Montier…First-Class Soldier…if you're goin'...to hang me or worse…do it now, Abellux flea."

"Did I give you permission to speak, fuckwad?" She bit her lip, and he laughed softly. "It's always the same with you spineless Godwin rats. If it was up to me, I'd throw you a knife and let you end it yourself, but I don't give out the orders here."

"Same difference…it's a knife or…the gallows…"

"Hm, no, word has it you're due for the chopping block. It's fun, or so I've heard. No prisoner's ever complained about it."

The man chuckled drily, and the one-eyed woman turned her malicious gaze toward him.

"And you, kid?" she inquired mirthlessly. "I got nothin' on you. The fuck's a kid doing in the Gairahal Tropics anyway? Daddy bring you 'long and leave you for dead?"

"N-no, I-"

"Shut it. I just need your name. Sir Gold will figure out what to do with you later."

He hesitated. This was the very definition of "stranger danger," but then again, everyone here was a stranger, and all of them were putting him in danger.

"Name, kid?" she repeated.

"Subaru. Natsuki Subaru."

"Gee, what a fuckin' name, eh? What're you, Kararagian? How'd you even spell your name anyway? Doesn't sound like anythin' else I heard."

He felt a blush form on his face. "Yo-you must have! It's Subaru! Like the stars!"

The orange man muttered, "Stars don't have names, boy."

"Sure they do!" he retorted. "Of course they do! It's Subaru! Like…like the Pleiades!"

He looked at the woman's face and watched her eye grow wide. The two men escorting her exchanged glances as well. Subaru thought he heard someone mention a tower.

"I'll be back," the woman promised in a grim tone, turning around and leaving with her guards.

Subaru let out a breath he did not know he had been holding as she vanished from sight, and almost jumped when the orange man asked, "Like the Pleiades?"

"Yeah!" The boy tried his best to look confident, and failed. "Like the stars, you know?"

"No one goes around…naming the Pleiades," Criff said, opening his eyes fully for the first time. He seemed to look straight through Subaru. "Only fools do that…fools…and those with too…much knowledge on their hands…"

He leaned forward, and Subaru tried to move backwards but found himself trapped by the carriage.

"I'm getting out of here…Pleiades…and you're going…to help me," the blonde man proclaimed. "We'll call it…mutually beneficial…"

A grin formed on his face, baring his bloodied teeth.

"After all…neither of us wants…to die…right?"

AN: So...

I REALLY wondered whether I should release this story or not. I expected to have EX 5 by now, so I could use it to fact-check, but alas, certain delays made that impossible. I thought about finishing Believer in Love before starting this, and maybe letting Arc 7 end as well, but that would be a while. Even if I worked on Believer every day (which would be exhausting) it would take a little while to finish. The way I see it, this gives me more options when it comes to updating, which is a big plus. Just...don't expect this to be updated weekly, alright?

As you might have seen, this story focuses on a young Subaru in the Vollachian Empire, during and shortly after the events of Crimson Afterglow, set about 7 years before Arc 1. I love the Empire, and any scrap of worldbuilding about it is a massive win in my book, which is why I want to flesh it out myself. The political intrigue, the twisted mentality, the drama just waiting to happen! I can hardly wait to get this ball rolling.

If you want to check out a very good story with a similar premise, read "Path of the Blessed Stars" by SpiritusAuream. You won't regret it.