The sun glowered dimly at the end of the world, reluctantly sinking into darkness as night fell. The yowling chorus of wild hounds leapt on the cooling breeze, filling the sky and reaching for the rising moon. The grasslands swayed to the sounds of crickets and night singing birds, teeming with life while the rest of the world slept in peaceful dreams.
Dreams can become nightmares. Songs turn to screams. Life yields to death. And everything can be destroyed with the simplicity of a single action. As was the case with Sword and Shield, or so the legend goes.
Yuber stood amidst the endless fields, staring up at the stars. Silence was all around him, as it always was. No creature dared make a move while he was near. The plains, lively though they were in the distance, may as well have been a wasteland where he walked. The immediate quite was a little unsettling. The stars offered no help, either, as they kept their stoic, steadfast vigil within their soft dark blanket.
He might have shrugged if there had been anyone to observe it, and shook his head a little. Stargazing was getting him nowhere.
Not that I really have anywhere to go, of course...
He walked on, picking a direction at random and going with it. The half moon poured pale blue light on the plains, lighting his way efficiently. The road he followed was little more than a game trail, winding lazy through the grasslands without much of a destination in mind. But aside from the worn little rut through the sea of grass, there was little else in the way of landmarks. A tree or two dotting the landscape, a patch of shrub, and a couple of good-sized rocks had been the extent of scenery in the last four days. That was fine. There'd be a road soon. Or a town. Or something. And even if there wasn't... well, that was fine, too.
Yuber often wondered, with a dark smile snaking across his lips, what had become of Pesmerga. In the three months since he had left him cowed and broken in the barn stall, he had seen neither hide nor hair of his half-brother. Still, he knew Pesmerga was alive. The Rune told him that much.
It told him so many other things, as well. It was constantly in his mind, its whisper only just loud enough to hear within the confines of his consciousness. It was loudest when he slept, if one could call his fevered nightmares sleeping. The tormented pasts of the Rune's previous caretakers clawed at him through the hours, giving him no rest. He'd awakened several times screaming in the night, drenched with cold sweat and panting in wide-eyed horror at the things that lived in his borrowed memories.
He opted instead to avoid sleeping all together. And to his surprise, it seemed the decision wasn't going to be a problem. Sleep had become unnecessary, as had eating. That was a relief unto itself, because he'd also discovered that he could taste very little anymore. He recalled the last thing he'd forced down had tasted much like old shoe leather, only blander. He craved nothing and his stomach didn't notice the lack of food. Everything was fueled by the Rune, the only driving force in his life now.
Except that I need a bath. Ugh, I can't stand to be dirty—much less filthy. A village would be greatly appreciated any day now. Or some rain in this god-forsaken land. He was sharply aware of the miles of dust and grime he'd accumulated on his travels. It clung to him like a second skin, making his light tan appear far darker than it was in reality. He'd bathed in the last stream he'd found, a little more than a week before, but the water had been numbingly cold. At this point, I'd settle for a puddle if it got me clean.
He held that thought over, picturing himself rolling around—stark naked—in a puddle like a mischievous puppy. A grin split his face. The things I think of to keep myself entertained.
There was movement in the tall grass behind him, and the sound of something undeniably large shifting its weight was loud in the otherwise silent area around Yuber. He paused, stopping to listen more closely.
The drought is driving the animals to desperation, it seems. He could smell the rancid stench of a carnivore, even standing upwind of the beast. It was old blood and death, dry and lifeless. He wasn't sure how much of it belonged to the prey and how much belonged to the predator itself. He wouldn't be able to tell until he turned around to face his would-be attacker.
Be careful. You're not armed. Don't do anything exceptionally stupid. He was almost regretting not bringing the sword along now. He slowly inched his body around, forcing his muscles to remain relaxed. If he tensed up, the animal would sense it. He'd lose the upper hand.
He gazed into the grasses, picking out a slim tan form in the moonlight. The lioness raised her disheveled head, locking her golden eyes with Yuber's mismatched ones.
She was a little more than five yards off, and without trying too hard, Yuber could tell the drought had, indeed, hit her hard. She was little more than a skeleton, with her tawny pelt hanging loosely from her bones. Dried, caked mud and matted bloodstains lined her underbelly, chest, and legs. Her eyes were a little glazed over, and it was apparent that trying to bring down Yuber was her last ditch effort at survival.
"I'm sorry, great lady. I can't help you," he said softly to the cat, holding out a hand. He was sympathetic for the creature's pitiful shape. No doubt she had once been a proud hunter. Once she had likely reveled in the shedding of blood, and even now still thirsted for the kill. Only now, she was a broken thing, standing on her last legs.
"You and I wouldn't have been so very different, once." The lioness' ears flicked a few times at the sound of his voice, and she looked torn between fight or flight as she shifted her weight back a pace. She lifted her nose to smell the air between them, unsure of the strange creature before her.
The least I can do is give her a merciful death. Starvation is a hell of a way to go. He stood perfectly still, waiting for her to come to him and his outstretched hand. "It's all right. I'll set you free."
The cat took a shaky step towards him, and another, her whiskers quivering. She hesitated when she reached him, looking up at him with a questioning expression on her feline face. He smiled as gently as he could, but made no further move. She nudged her head into Yuber's hand, putting her instincts aside and letting herself trust him.
"You'd only have faced the same problem later, even if you'd killed me," he remarked conversationally, kneeling to come to her level. She purred as he scratched her behind the ears, closing her eyes and thrumming deep in her chest. "Now you can be the beautiful killer you were once, untouched by your weakness. Go with peace, my lady."
With one easy yank, he snapped her neck. She shuddered in his hands, the last shivering purr running up his fingertips and into his arms. He let her slide to the ground slowly and left her to rest, moving on into the coming day as the moon set behind him.
**
Shen wiped a stray coffee spot from her buff feathers with a sigh as she set the tray of dirty dishes on the counter and bustled off to get more. For once the duck was grateful to have the dull, drab feathers that she did, instead of the stark white the men folk had back home.
Home, huh. That's a funny name for a place I never visit anymore, despite Mother and Father's letters telling me that I should. Ah, well, maybe for the holidays. I like it here. Everything is so different than in Grassland. It does get much colder there in the winter, since it's further North.
She wiped down a recently vacated table, taking pride in the fact that the inn was actually quite busy today, and that the customers were happy. Happy customers meant bigger tips, and that made for a very happy Shen.
After resetting the table with clean flatware and utensils, she paused for a minute to see if there were any tables with waiting patrons she hadn't helped yet.
Got them, just checked on table three, refilled drinks at table twelve, cleared table six...
–! Ah, there's someone new there! Time to go to work.
Table six was the darkest table in the house, set back in the dimly lit far corner of the room. It was often easy to miss customers there unless they were in large groups or wearing light colors; both of which were absent in this case.
They've probably had a long day and just want some peace and quiet. Okay, then. Friendly, but not overly perky. I don't want to make a bad day worse.
"Good evening and welcome to the Inn of the Dreaming Song," she said, rummaging in her apron for pencil and paper without really looking at the customer yet. "My name is Shen, and I'll be your server toni—"
The duck trailed off as her round blue eyes adjusted to the lack of light. She could see him now. He was lanky, but deceptively so. She felt a strange, wild power smoldering inside him, barely bridled. It wasn't unlike the magic that the village rune sage had used back home, only it was far more terrifying. His clothes were what could best be described as travel worn, faded from sun and dirt, and she could smell the earthen scent of the plains on them even standing at a distance. Bestial parti-colored eyes, one red, one grey-blue, stared back from beneath draggletail locks of platinum blond hair, bleached by days in the sun.
He's obviously no Grasslander… but these plains have certainly left their mark on him. Ack! Finish your sentence and quit gawking!
"…T-tonight. Can I offer you anything to drink before your meal?" She cursed her stammer but was determined to salvage her good manners.
The strange man shook his head, silent. His gaze never left her for a moment, and he made no other move.
Shen began to feel the weight of those eyes, and felt her feathers start to floof out—they always did that when she was nervous. She fought to keep them down, trying not to grind her beak. "Is there anything else I can get for you, then, sir?"
"I'm sure I should have seen someone about this before I sat down." His voice was a smooth, eerily soft tenor. "Would it be possible to get a room for the night and a hot bath?" The blond leaned just a little closer as he spoke, seeming to take interest in her rising feathers.
"Oh, certainly! I can arrange that for you and bring you the key with your order—that is…" She trailed off as he tilted his head to the side the slightest bit, still watching. She was confused and unsettled by his curious demeanor, though it distracted from her prior nervousness enough that her feathers smoothed again, much to the stranger's amusement. "Um… is something the matter?"
A hint of a smile flitted across his intimidating features, youthful though they were. "I've never seen anyone quite like you before."
Ahhh, well that explains it. She smiled, feeling much more at ease. "And I doubt you will again this far from Grassland. Not many of us wind up this far away from home."
"'Us'?" The stranger rested his head atop folded hands as he leaned his elbows on the table, looking quite predatory despite his good natured interest. Or at least, what Shen could only assume was good natured interest.
She nodded. "Yep, 'us'—the Duck Clan. We're one of the Eight Great Clans of Grassland. Mostly we stay within our borders, but I wanted to travel and seek my fortune in other lands." She sighed with a beaky grin. "How I wound up here, I'll never know." The duck held out a feathered palm. "Name's Shen, as I said before."
The man gripped it in a brief but firm handshake. "Yuber," was all he said.
"Well, then. I'll get that room set up for you, and you think of anything you want to eat." With a polite half-bow, she hurried off to her tasks.
**
Yuber let his body slide into the hot water slowly, noticing he wasn't nearly as stiff as he thought he should have been—though his previous shower had proven him to be at least three times as dirty as he should have been.
If I had gotten in the bath first, it would have been a mud bath with all the grunge I was covered in.
The bathhouse was empty by now, as late as it had become. Though when he had first entered, he'd managed to garner a sidelong glance from a lingering bather. And that glance had quickly turned into something of more than passing fancy when the blond had stripped to shower. Yuber had entertained the thought of playing on the man's interest and seeing where it led, but when he'd turned to get a better look, the man had already made his exit.
Ah, well. I'm sure I could always find other means of amusing myself. He looked around the empty bathhouse, the quiet silence of the large room descending on his ears. The air was thick and humid, making each breath feel labored and deliberate, like he had a weight sitting on his chest. But it wasn't a discomfort, only a curious sensation. He let every muscle relax in the water's embrace, drifting in the solitude, content to think of nothing but the quiet.
He didn't realize someone had flitted in and out until he heard the door shut. He sat up, looking to his right to find a stack of clean towels and a note on the bench.
"Mr. Yuber- Have turned down your sheets. Your room is ready, and I had your clothes cleaned for you. Please have a pleasant stay. Sincerest regards- Shen."
The blond was absolutely puzzled. I didn't pay for any of this. I never even ordered food or drink despite her pestering about it. So why the extra service? Huh. He pulled himself out of the bath and took advantage of the hospitality, toweling dry with the soft, plush fabric.
It was a fairly short trek from the bathhouse to the rooms themselves. The two places were separate buildings, connected by an open-air hall through the courtyard. The late summer air was cool against his bare skin as he strode across the smooth path in the moonlight, one towel around his waist discreetly and another slung across his shoulder. His damp golden hair trailed behind him like a heavy cape as he walked.
He'd left the room unlocked; after all, what valuables did he have? Some worn clothes. He had doubts about anyone who'd really want to steal those. He opened the door to black silence and let his eyes adjust to the lack of light. The dark wasn't more than a bother, really. He could pick out things in sharp tones of grey, but they were shady and lacked any real depth. He found a box of matches and a lamp on the small desk next to the bed.
He set the lamp to its lowest setting and stretched out across the comfortable bed, not bothering to dress. It could wait until the morning.
He let his thoughts wander carelessly into the unknown of the Eightfold Rune's memories. They didn't scorch like they had before. He'd finally grown accustomed to their shadows, flitting in and out of his conscious thought each day. He'd been growing bold, these past few weeks, every night spending a little more time among them, learning their secrets and watching the events of a dozen or so lives pass his eyes.
So many of them had been ordinary people. Petty thieves, soldiers, and a couple of rag tag vagabonds made up the lot of them. Some had been such before the Rune, and some only became what they were after they'd come to 'own' it. He idly compared himself to them all, and was curious. Out of all of them, he was the only one with such a… wasted past, he might have called it. And I wonder why?
~"Because you are perfect."~
Yuber instantly recognized the Rune's 'voice', though it was much more coherent than it had ever been. Rather than only whispering vaguely, this time its words were clear and resonating in his mind. He closed his eyes, focusing his thoughts back at the 'voice.'
Perfect? How am I any more perfect than those others?
~"You have a darkness within you. It drives you. It is you… Yuber."~
In his mind's eye, he saw himself standing in field of nothing, and stretched out before him was the Eightfold Rune. It appeared as a great dragon, long and slender as a curve. Its scales were blood and fire; deep, dark, and mercilessly red. Its amber eyes glowed covetously as it looked upon the blond, a greedy smile snaking across its elegant, tapering muzzle. It stretched tattered black wings lazily, twining its tail around Yuber with an absolutely sinister purr.
~"Yes… perfect."~ It released him from its brief caress, smirking at him from one glinting golden eye. ~"Do you know who I am, my servant?"~
"You are the Eightfold Rune." He had intended to only think it, but found a voice inside the illusion. "Beyond that, I haven't learned much."
The beast chuckled. ~"No, you have not. But that is through no fault of your own. I have never cared to reveal my nature before this, for it has never suited me to lend my true power to those who were ultimately unworthy. And then, by chance, you came to me. You are beyond worthy. You are—"
"Yes, yes, you told me. Perfect." Yuber folded his arms over his chest imperiously. "So what are you, then?"
The Rune was silent for a moment, and Yuber got the impression it was raising an eyebrow at the blond's impertinent demand. It rustled it wings, shifting its nonexistent weight before beginning again. ~"I am the Crimson King. I am disorder, discord, disharmony, dismay. I am Chaos in its most pure incarnation."~ It leaned its slender head close, dropping its 'voice' to a mere whisper. ~"And you, Yuber, are my servant. Do not ever forget that. Your right eye is your proof of your fealty, my mark upon your being that will be far more difficult to hide than the triviality upon your palm. Your immortality is a boon, your power is borrowed. And you will—not 'may'—be asked to return those favors on numerous occasions. But the power you have unlocked rivals that of even such great Runes as the Beginning, the Judgment, the Black Rune, or the Gate."~
The names meant very little to Yuber. He shook his head, unimpressed. "And what am I supposed to do with all this power you promise when I'm not using it to further your ends? I have no use for it."
The dragon cackled harshly. ~"No use for it, perhaps. But I can already feel you hunger for it. You're like a mongrel slavering over an offered bone. You may know that you do not need it, but you also know that you want it. And who wouldn't? But aside from that, you should listen to the rest before you shrug off my gifts so thoughtlessly."~
~"I have a brother… a 'mirror Rune,' if you read by the scrolls of the Sindar, or an 'other half' in simple rune sage terms. He is the Order to my Chaos. And he rules over one you know very, very well. This one is quite eager to do my brother's bidding without question, if only to pursue the sole remaining purpose in his life. My brother has set him on your heels, my servant, and he is relentless in his pursuit."~
The blond had no difficulty guessing who the 'one' the Rune spoke of was. "Pesmerga."
~"Aye, your half brother by blood. It is ironic, is it not?"~ At Yuber's stubborn silence, the beast's grin only became slyer. ~"My brother sending your brother as his Black Knight to destroy you, my Black Knight. A hunt of Fate and destiny, I would say." It rolled on its side, watching Yuber with an almost coy interest. ~"Make no mistake; without my power, you will never outmatch him now. And we both know that would be… unacceptable."~
"Damn." Yuber clenched his fists. The Rune's right. I can't let him best me, not after all of this. Not after I've come so far.
~"Of course you can't. So long as he doesn't catch you unawares, I don't intend for you to let him have you, either. You are too perfect to waste so soon."~
~"So what say you…my Black Knight?"~
**
Yuber only realized he'd been sleeping when the sound of distant thunder stole him away from the conversation with the Rune. He glanced down at his branded right hand, and felt it tingling—as it had tingled when he'd killed Sylvia. He frowned at it, knowing the 'Crimson King' still waited for an answer. But he forced it to the back of his mind as the thunder persisted without pause.
He snatched up his clothes, grateful to the duck lady that she had cleaned them, and dressed as quickly as possible. He threw the door open and listened in the predawn light.
Hoof beats. Dozens—perhaps hundreds. And they're headed this way at a hard gallop.
The blond knew no army would be headed this way at such a pace so early, even if there had been a war going on in three hundred miles. That left the next logical choice. Raiders.
He left his room, wandering from the inn and into the little village's main street. Figure I can at least stick around and see if I'm right. He slipped between two buildings, hiding in the plentiful shadows for the time being. If things got out of hand, he'd simply leave.
Once the horsemen arrived, it didn't take long for things to get to that point. At least eighty riders pounded into the town, setting fire to the eaves and looting as they went. Women were dragged screaming from the buildings to be dishonored before the very eyes of their children, their husbands cut down and bloodying the dirt. Yuber was glad he'd left the inn—it was one of the first places hit.
However, he found himself compelled to stay, instead of quietly making his way out of town as he'd first planned. The fires sang the hymns of carnage, hot and hungry as they reached out to scorch the last morning stars. Blood flashed in his vision, its metallic taint corrupting his senses. It overwhelmed his scent and taste until it was nearly all he knew. He watched the destruction in heady fascination, feeling the Rune strive within him.
So why don't you do something, if you want to join in so bad? Why not just command me and have your fun. … Unless you can't. He smirked to the Rune, knowing he had the upper hand. For all the dragon's threats and mighty talk, it could still not do more than be an observer and a power source, though an influential one at best. It could not make his body move if he did not choose to. Well. Take that, you arrogant bastard. He 'heard' the Rune snarl at him, and that only made his smile all the wider.
"Hey, boss! What the hell is this thing?"
"Let go of me, you monster!"
Yuber's head snapped to attention, and he peered through the dust and smoke to see the scene unfolding in the street. The duck lady Shen was held on either side by two hulking bandits, being dragged towards a single man still on horseback. The leader, presumably. He listened, eyes narrowing in concentration as he tried to focus around his wired senses.
"Hell, I don't know. Bring it along—it'll make a good pet," the mounted man guffawed, much to the amusement of the first two. Shen thrashed and struggled, shouting a stream of curses heated enough to make the fires themselves wince. Still, her escape efforts went for naught, and she was soon spent.
"Please… please let me go," she whimpered, still feebly trying to free herself of the bandits' iron grips.
Yuber didn't know what made him step out of the alley. Maybe it was the fact that the duck had been considerate to him, and hadn't expected anything in return for her kindness. That was an astonishingly rare thing as far as Yuber was concerned—very few people had ever done something like that, no matter how simple it was, for his sake.
Or it could have just been that she was sobbing pathetically by now, and it was grating on his nerves. The raiders hadn't killed her and gotten it over with, but didn't intend to gag their new hostage-turned-pet either, it seemed.
"You heard the lady. I think she requested that you let her go." He kept his voice calm as he made his presence known, allowing no trace of emotion to slip into his bluff. And a bluff it was, he realized too late. The bandit leader barked a laugh and whistled shortly, calling his men. Not more than a breath later, more than half the troop was moving in on him. And every single one of them had a weapon of some kind.
Damn it, I knew I should have brought that sword!
Not that it would really have done him a lot of good, he recalled wryly. If I'm going to live through this to see that eternity the Rune promised, I am really going to have to work on my swordsmanship—wait, that's it! A thought occurred to him, wild with the fierce desire to survive.
All right, beastie, it's time to see what you can really do.
He held his marked hand out to the circle of rough and ragged cutthroats, and grinned maliciously at them all.
"…I accept."
**
It's that time again… Author's Notes!
1~ When Shen talks about the Eight Great Clans of Grassland, these are the ones she's talking about—there's the Sindar, the Duck Clan, the Lizard Clan, Alma Kinan, the Karaya, the clan that becomes LeBuque after the occupation of Harmonia, the Chisha, and one other 'lost clan,' forgotten in the records but really not having any impact on this story whatsoever. I figure that it's 300 some years before Suikoden III, so there can be eight clans instead of six. I know that some of you were saying, "Huh? But there are only six clans…" at that point. Or you could have just said, "Wtf?" like my brother did. Either way, now you know.
2~ A bit of insight into my thoughts on the Eightfold Rune… throughout this fic, you'll see me referring the Rune as the 'Crimson King.' This is an allusion to two things. First and foremost, the symbolism I've associated with the Rune is heavily tied into Stephen King's villain from his book, Insomnia, the Crimson King. Now, I'm not a big King fan, personally. However, I flipped through the book and my attention was caught by so many similarities between Yuber, his Rune, and this particular entity. King denotes those in service of the Crimson King as having a red 'eye' somewhere on their person—Yuber does, indeed, have one red eye. It is hinted that the Crimson King is Chaos itself, which has also been said about the Eightfold Rune. The other allusion is to one of my favorite bands, King Crimson, mostly just because I can (incidentally, I only found King Crimson the band by accident, recognizing the name as the name of Pesmerga's sword from game II). If you're wondering about the problem about Yuber and Pesmerga's sword names (like, they're the same, and then they'd be, like, the same as the Rune-thing, and like, that'd be confusing…) worry no more. It'll all be explained in coming chapters. You'll just have to come back. /smirks deviously/
3~ Speaking of Runes… or is it runes? Yes, the two are used differently. When I capitalize it ("Rune"), it will be used as a proper noun or when describing a True Rune. When it is lowercase ("rune"), it's only in reference to a normal rune, or anything to do with runes in general (ex: rune sage, rune hand). Just so no one's too hung up about that.