Phantom lights flashed against the darkness of Yuber's tightly closed eyes. His body moaned in a painful chorus. Dust coated his lungs and made him cough. He flexed his fingers, finding the soft earth yield to the slight, feeble movement. He cracked his eyes open, blinking a crust of dirt away.
Ash. Fine, white ash blanketed the ground. Still it fell, veiling the town in fuzzy, dreamlike snow. Only...
Where is the town??
Quickly, Yuber recounted the events of seemingly moments ago, sprawled in the velvet ash carpet.
The Rune had errupted from its dark niche, blinding Yuber and searing his body in savage, eager fire as it poured its power into him. He had become little more than its vessel, the tool it exerted its will through. He could see himself, now, as if he were an onlooker watching an actor in some twisted play. There was a brilliant flash of hot, white light--
--and then nothing more. Until now, looking at the ash. The ash that had once been an entire village.
I... this is not what I wanted. This... why? Why?! He screamed at the Rune, knowing full well it could 'hear' him. It didn't give an answer, but Yuber had the distinct impression that he could feel it wearing its familiar, smug grin.
He pushed himself up on his knees, but got no further. He stared numbly into the falling white rain, his hands clenching into tight fists. He didn't know what to feel. He wasn't sure he felt anything, other than used. A tangle of conflicting emotions snarled and rolled in his gut. Anger was most prevalent-- anger at himself, at the Rune, at the bandits... but beneath it was a nervous fear.
What have I given myself over to...?
There was another feeling, too, underlying it all like some cleverly disguised poison, bleeding into him a little bit at a time until it consumed him. He couldn't put a finger on what it was, though.
Until a few charred, light brown feathers—Shen's feathers—drifted by his hands, skittering across the ash field as if they had been waiting to give him the answer. They silently spelled out the words in a nameless tongue, meant for him and him alone. And the words were grave and clear in the empty silence, falling like a death sentence on his ears.
Loathing. Regret. Guilt.
As he watched the feathers, he felt all his pride and courage collapse as he caved in on himself. He wrapped his arms around himself so tightly it hurt, shuddering with breathless, coughing sobs. As the tears caressed his pale, horrified cheeks, he could hear the dragon laughing. He cringed in the face of his glaring, hideous mistake.
Who's the monster now, Shen?
....
Pesmerga nearly felt his head disconnect from his spine as he snapped from his dozing. His right hand had flared to life, tingling fiercely as though he'd deprived it of blood. The Rune hammered at his skull, repetitive and constant in its efforts to make its will known. It was a simple command, unspoken but readily understandable.
He tugged on the mule's halter, leading her in the Rune's specified direction. To the northeast, where the land was wailing, trembling from the fury of an unleashed power. Where he knew he had to go. Where Yuber was.
....
"A pretty thing like you shouldn't be covered in such filth."
Yuber started, blinking through the ash to see a vague shape walking towards him. He scrambled to his feet, only then realizing that his clothing was scorched and ruined. He tensed, ready to make a run for it if the need should present itself.
The shadow separated from the grey, becoming the slender figure of a woman. She was elegantly dressed, in tranquilly contrasting tones of blues. Her mousey, pale brown hair was tied up in an intricate tail. Her dark eyes seemed to sparkle, and she wore the faintest hint of a smile on her small, dainty lips.
"You've certainly made fitting work of this disgusting collection of hovels, I must say." She walked up to him, nearly matching him in height, and dusted ash from his shoulders brusquely. "Tsk. Though you're not in much better shape yourself, are you? Someone should teach you a little control."
Yuber bristled indignantly, a little of his familiar bitterness resurfacing. "Who the hell are you to tell me—"
She frowned, extending her right hand. Yuber was knocked to the ground—a good twenty feet from where he was before—with the air robbed from his lungs.
"I am called Windy, the bearer of the Front Gate Rune, and I can teach you the control you need. Besides your rune, I mean. You have quite a temper, and it could stand some curbing." She arched a delicate eyebrow as she stood over his coughing body, arms folded. "If you come with me, I can help you. Before your power destroys you."
Those last words struck home with a grim sort of weight. His hands were buried in the soft grey consequences of his mistake. The thought of taking the woman up on her offer left a sour taste in his mouth; he hated being blackmailed into anything, and this sure felt like blackmail. But at the same time, he knew that she was right. He needed to be trained, or the Rune would swallow him.
And of course she's the only one available and willing to do it. As much as I don't want to…
"What happens if I do?" He found his breath again, lurching to his feet to a chorus of aching muscles. He stared her down, mismatched eyes barely holding back his anger.
"If you do, I will not only teach you how to make better use of your Rune, but I will also give you a warm place to stay, food and clothing, and answer all your questions"
I very much doubt that you can.
"What's the catch?" he asked suspiciously.
She laughed with mirth in her voice at his dark scowl. "I was hoping you would ask, actually. The 'catch' is that, in return for my help, you lend me yours."
He looked dubious, eyeing her warily. She continued.
"Don't look so worried; you won't be made into a slave, or a lowly servant. You'll be left to your own devices for the most part, free to come and go of your own accord. Unless I need you, that is."
There it is. I was wondering when she'd get to the point. "Need me for what, exactly? I'm not going to make any kind of 'bargain' before I know the details." He wasn't about to let her back him into any corners, either. He was getting tired of playing this game.
Windy gave in. "I'm gathering the power of the twenty-seven True Runes. As much as I would like to believe otherwise, I know that I can't do it by myself. So I'm… recruiting. Your Rune is nearly as powerful as the Gate—I can use that power, once properly directed."
Yuber snorted derisively, with a shake of his head. "So you want to use me."
"Not use you, my friend, not at all. More like 'hire' you. You'll be paid a salary for your service, the same as any military general. Yes, general. You don't think we're going to come by all of those Runes without a fight, do you?" She smiled as she saw that she was starting to convince him with every new offer.
The blond smirked sarcastically. "And how many of these True Runes do you have so far?"
Windy shifted uncomfortably, her smile fading in irritation. "Well, none yet, but…"
"Uh-huh." He was not impressed and made no secret of it. But if she can teach me how to use this goddamn thing in my hand… it doesn't sound like such a bad deal. And I really don't have anything else to do with my time, do I? Still… I'd better not be getting into something I'll regret.
"All right. You show me how to put this beast in its place, and I'll help you out." He held out his hand. She took it with a bright, cheerful shake. Yuber felt a tingle as their runes touched, a meeting of monsters in the dark.
....
"How many times are you going to do it wrong before you learn?" Windy sighed, every bit as frustrated as Yuber.
The blond growled at her, fed up. "If you're so damned smart, then you do it! I've tried, and it's obvious that I'm not going to get it!" Yuber turned away, leaning one arm on the wall of the practice room. He'd done the exercise at least twenty times already, and was ready to just say 'screw it all' and turn the Rune on Windy—it was seething at the both of them, roiling like a raging sea. If it was pissed off, he couldn't exactly blame it.
Windy crossed the sand floor, uncluttered except for the two of them. "If you can't learn to focus and put your emotions under lock and key, then you won't ever be able to control the Eightfold Rune. We've already had two near-disasters, and now that you're angry in actuality and not just in abstract, things could get ugly in a hurry. The Rune channels easily through strong emotions, chaotic emotions—and it's trying especially hard to fight you because you're attempting to master it. You have to calm down, and then we'll try it again. It's not that you can't do it, it's that you just need to take a step back and collect yourself."
Yuber glared at her. "So do you, Windy. You were the one that snapped at me in the first place."
She nodded and apologized. "I know this isn't easy—I shouldn't have lost my patience. I can show you again, if you want."
"You could show me a million times, but it wouldn't really help. I've seen it, I can feel it… I just have to figure out what the hell I'm doing." Yuber ran a hand through his long bangs, pushing them from his eyes. "At least your rune likes you."
She put a hand on his shoulder. "It wouldn't have chosen you if it didn't 'like' you, though I'm not sure if they are capable of like or dislike. They only know 'need,' and 'want.' Or at least, that has been my experience." Windy glanced down at her own branded palm. "It deemed you right for the job to carry it, now you must turn the tables and show it who's boss. Are you ready to try again?"
Yuber took a slow, steadying breath before giving the go-ahead. Why do I get the feeling we're going to be at this all night—if not for days? The sooner I get the hang of this, the better. All right… one more time.
He waited for Windy to step back, theoretically out of range of any mishaps. She had already had to defend herself twice when the Rune fought him on previous attempts. He stared hard at the ceramic vase across from him, sitting ever so smugly on its little wooden pedestal. It was almost as if the pottery was mocking him.
He held his rune hand out, letting it hang suspended in the air. He used as little effort as possible to keep it up, holding it neither too stiffly or too weakly. Windy had said that the need for such precise muscle command would pass as he gained more experience with the Rune, but for now, he needed to save as much energy as possible, even in the smallest ways.
Now take that energy and do something with it. Divert it, feed the beast… just enough so that it pulls at the chain and wants more. Then don't give it to it until it begs. A little at a time.
He straightened his palm until it was perpendicular with the floor, closing his eyes in concentration. He pictured that saved up energy flowing backwards down his veins, pooling in the space before his open hand. He felt it, like a low-pitched humming just beyond his fingertips. The sensation wasn't new—he'd gotten this far numerous times before—but it still made his nerves jump in anticipation.
Calm down, stupid. You haven't gotten a harness around it just yet. This is what happened the last few times… you reach for the power too soon, thinking you've won, and it knocks you on your ass. Pay attention.
Yuber clamped down on his impulses, intoxicated by the tempting call of the dragon. He cut off the energy-feed with sudden decisiveness. He was rewarded with a puzzled wave of irritation from the Rune.
"Now what do I do with it?" He kept his voice level and calm, not letting his mind wander from the tugging feeling in his hand as the Rune tried to tap into him.
Windy nodded in satisfaction. "Good. Now direct your thoughts at the vase, and then let the Rune have what it wants, all at once. But not very much! Be sure to cut it off again. Like opening and closing a floodgate." She held up her reflective ring as she instructed him—just in case.
The blond set his eyes on the pottery, bracing himself.
Go.
The Rune pounced eagerly on the surge of energy from its host. Yuber felt the power hammer into the vase, snaking and twisting invisibly. Remembering Windy's warning, he slammed the channel shut again, depriving the Rune of its lifeline. The vase shattered, exploding in a burst of fire. Yuber staggered backwards as his whole arm threatened to explode with it, reeling as the sudden cut-off pounded through his bones and into his shoulder.
Thank God it wasn't the left arm... it never really healed like it should have. Don't think it would have taken that too well. He shook the stars from his eyes, 'feeling' the Rune cursing him and cursing right back at it. Serves you right, you bastard.
He looked up to see that the vase was little more than fragments of charred pottery littering the practice room floor. The pedestal it had been sitting on wasn't in much better shape; the top half had been fairly well disintegrated from the looks of it.
Windy surveyed his work as she came up beside him. "Overkill, but we'll work on that. Just be sure to close the channel sooner—the longer you leave it open, the bigger the result." She inspected his arm, assuring that it wasn't broken. "That was much better. Let's call it a night, though. I don't need you in pieces before you can even lend me a hand."
He raised an eyebrow at the pun, wondering if Windy knew she'd said it.
....
Yuber stared vacantly at the ceiling of his small room, which was really no more than a large crawlspace—something rather akin to an attic—in the left wing of the old stone hall Windy had occupied. The moonlight filtered through light gauze curtains, waving like sheeted phantoms in a gentle breeze. He couldn't help it when a sigh found its way from his breast, curiously half content, and half restless. He'd been here for weeks, but was making slow progress. Between lessons with Windy, he filled the daylight hours by improving his skill with a blade. He was relentless and hard on himself, pushing his mind and body to overcome his ineptitude. With his newly acquired speed and agility that the Rune loaned him, he trained himself to rely more on swiftness and strategy than strength. Though he did find that without an actual opponent, testing his training was proving to be quite difficult.
The morning and early evening lessons with Windy were going... better was the most accurate word he could find for it. He wasn't knocking himself to the ground anymore, but doing anything beyond that was still mostly a matter of good fortune. Windy was, though, a good teacher, and patient with his several fumbling attempts. And he was damned if he was going to let the Rune take advantage of him again. So on he pressed, slowly but surely in his training.
But he had nothing to do in the night, nothing to fill the empty time that swallowed the world and left him alone again. Always so bitterly alone... He had no memories left to visit that he hadn't played out, save his own that he couldn't bear to relive. And he dared not sleep, for fear of the cold, gripping hell that suffocated him when he did. Often, his nights were spent the same way. Staring up at nowhere, trying to think of nothing, wanting to be with no one—and never succeeding in any of it.
And so it went, for many months to come.
....
"I've managed to track down a lead. This will be your first assignment... General."
Windy knelt before a large, ornately carved chest of deepest cherry wood. "And I won't have my general looking like a common peasant boy. An attractive peasant boy, but nonetheless. I've been holding on to several items that came into my possession not long after you arrived... they belong to you, and I think you should start using them." She undid the lock, and motioned for him to step closer.
Nestled in a bed of wine colored velvet, the sheen of finely polished metal glowed in the lamplight. Piece by piece, she pulled a complete suit of armor from the chest, as he looked on, bewildered.
It was certainly very old, but had obviously been well cared for. Something in the back of his mind tugged at him insistently, but he brushed it away for the moment, inspecting the armor further. He frowned slightly.
"It looks heavy... how do you expect me to move around in this? Unless you plan to put me on a horse..." The worried tone in his voice suggested that she had better do no such thing. Even if he could ride, his opinion of horses hadn't changed any.
She smiled. "Looks can be deceiving," she said, quoting the old adage. "Try it for me. I think you'll be surprised."
He dubiously regarded the swooping curves and contrasting square angles the armor seemed to have in abundance. It would be on anyone's fashion 'don't' list, imposing as it looked like it could be when assembled. At least the colors were appealing—raven black trimmed in burnished gold. "It's... chunky. Like it would make a lot of noise."
Windy sighed. "Would you just try it? Trust me."
Yuber was still far from convinced, but he gave in with a nod. The pieces strapped and buckled on easily enough, and the whole suit was incredibly quick to assemble. He wasn't certain quite how it managed to hold together and the respective pieces stay in place so well, but he guessed it was some sort of ingenious interlocking method.
It was light. That was instantly noticeable. He raised an arm, marveling in how easy it was. It was as if he were wearing a suit of rice paper. He tried a few simple fencing lunges. All his joints bent exactly as they ever did in light training gear, with ease and fluidity. And for all the armor's clunky, square looks, none of the parts got in the way of each other, no matter which direction he or his various appendages where turned.
"This... this is amazing. Where did you find this?" he gaped at her.
"To be perfectly honest, it belongs to you. Though I had to do a good bit of digging around to find the complete set, as it had been separated over the decades." She handed him the final piece, the beautifully archaic horned helm. "It is the armor belonging to the Rune of Chaos' bearer. Your armor, and rightfully yours alone. And might I say, you do look like quite the warrior, Yuber."
He glanced at his now gauntleted rune hand, slightly unsurprised. Now he knew why it had seemed so familiar. "I see."
"And with it... the sword." She stood and pulled aside the burgundy velvet in the chest he thought was empty. She withdrew a long, elegant blade. It was simple, with no decorative scrollwork or jeweled hilt. But it clearly commanded respect, and there was no doubt in his mind that it had done its work well in the past. Windy handed it to him solemnly. "King Crimson."
The name sent a ripple through his body as he was thrown back to his dream encounter with the Rune, with the blood red dragon that had chilled his very bones. ...crimson...
He took the sword gingerly, shaking off the numbness. He tested its weight, and found it to be nearly as light as the armor, and perfectly balanced.
"Only you will be able to use it as it was meant to be used. In anyone else's hands, it would be heavy, awkward, and cumbersome. Here is its sheath, and belt." Both were made of simple black leather. "And now that that has been seen to," she said, standing and dusting her garments off. "... we begin."
....
Yuber stood on the bluff that overlooked the small village Windy had led him to. There was plenty of tree and brush cover to assure that, while they could easily see down, no one would be able to spot them in return.
"In that little town, someone holds a True Rune. I wasn't able to find out which one, though. Still, I can sense it there, and I'll help direct you to it." She scanned the homely little buildings one by one, as her eyes narrowed to slits in concentration. It didn't take long for her roaming gaze to settle on one house in particular, near the back of the small town, on the verge of the woods beyond.
"There," she said, pointing it out. "That one. And remember, don't kill him."
Yuber nodded, quiet and focused. His job had already been made clear to him earlier. Windy would need him alive to discover how to obtain the power of the True Rune.
Yuber slipped into the cover of the forest, circumventing the village to avoid unwanted eyes. Since the target was conveniently positioned, getting to it became that much easier. The trees blocked the sun, keeping it from glinting off his armor. When he moved, it was with eerie silence and agility, as if he wore no armor at all. He was grateful. This was his first 'trial run,' so to speak. He wasn't about to let himself do something stupid to ruin it yet.
His right hand held the hilt of his blade in a vice-grip, and it burned beneath the skin. Like fire pokers digging into his palm, his joints, his muscles, the Rune's command growled insistently in his mental ears.
He slipped from the brush, edging along the side of the house, still unseen.
Yuber's sword changed hands, from his right to his left. He held his now free palm before the empty air, and thought hard about the house—or rather, the abstract center of the house. He gathered the energy, like stretching a tanned hide tighter than it should be stretched. When he let go, the resulting 'snap' would serve as an effective element of surprise… if it didn't bring the entire house down in the process.
Just a little, just a little… carefully
He loosed the Rune, letting a brief shock of unseen power through the air. The small explosion beyond the house's walls made the earth shudder a bit in the immediate area, but it would have been unnoticed more than fifteen feet away. Yuber let a vague semblance of a smile run across his lips; it had done exactly what it was supposed to have done.
A middle-aged man threw back the door of the house, floundering into the walk in a coughing, wheezing stupor. Smoke wafted through the doorway, lazily floating skyward. The man was dazed, and he shook his head several times, rubbing at his eyes with the backs of his hands.
Yuber's eyes were instantly attracted to the man's right hand. It was gloved, as was the left, but Yuber's Rune told him all he needed to know. That's him.
Yuber approached the man with a confident air, knowing better than to show hesitation—though his guard was definitely up. He didn't know which True Rune this man had, only that he did, in fact, have one. Yuber wasn't eager to underestimate him. King Crimson now returned to his rune hand, he faced the villager, tense.
The rune bearer squinted at the man clad in black, straightening as he caught his wind. "Who… or what… are you?"
The blond wasn't exactly certain how to approach that question. He hastily decided on the most vague answer he could. "I am… nothing but a shadow."
"I assume you have a good reason for blasting me out of my house, shadow?" The man was not intimidated, and would have looked Yuber dead in the eyes had they not been hidden beneath his helmet.
Yuber readied his sword, taking at step towards his target. "Your True Rune is needed."
"Oh, is it, now? Then you can have it!"
Yuber saw the man move, dropping his blade and crossing his arms defensively—but too late. White arcs of electricity thundered along the ground and slammed into his chest, knocking him into the air. He crashed into the brush behind him, and shook the stars from his eyes. The man already had another bolt at the ready, a blue ball of nervous light in his hand.
True Lightning.
He cursed and scrambled to his feet as the magic serpent was released at him, barely managing to dodge. Yuber rolled to his feet, stood still just long enough for the man to take aim and shoot again, then dove for his sword. The armor flowed seamlessly with him, as if it weren't even there. He was grateful, since he was only just managing to keep one step ahead as it was.
King Crimson thrummed in his hand, resonating with the ache of the Rune. He swung broadly, pulling the blow short of doing any damage. He only wanted to catch the man off guard, to break his concentration and keep him from using his rune. It had the desired effect—the villager fell back, his aggression starting to slip and show the fear welling beneath.
Another slash, too close for comfort, and he thought better of the situation. He spun and took off through the streets. Yuber swore at himself under his breath, sprinting after him in pursuit.
Damn! Don't let him get away, fool!
Some part of him noticed that the avenues and alleys of the little village were quickly vacated in his wake. Fewer things to distract his focus…
Yuber hoped that all his training with Windy would be worth something. He turned his thoughts inward, even as he trailed his target. He pulled the energy to him, and centered it on a spot just in front of the rune bearer's flying feet. A small explosion would be all he needed, just enough to trip the man up and give Yuber the upper hand.
He opened the channel, releasing the Rune after the power—
—to find that the villager had jumped the fence that now loomed in front of him. He skidded to a halt, mind blank.
No!
His control shattered and evaporated. Yuber fought to close the connection with his rune, forgetting all about the chase. And in the split second that it took to realize he was in real trouble, the Eightfold Rune thundered through the still-open channel.
His very soul screamed in pain, as though it were being ripped from its foundations and shredded with the power of the Rune. He collapsed on the spot, darkness taking him mercifully into its arms.
The relief didn't last. He opened his eyes some minutes later, staring blankly at the packed earth beneath his nose. There was a silence unlike any he'd ever known all around him—thick, heavy, filling every space and devouring every heartbeat, every breath. When found the strength to look up, he realized why. It was no silence at all. It was the deafening roar of a firestorm.
Not again…Yuber tried to stand, to get to his feet and somehow find a way to stop the blaze. His arms and legs were like dead weights, and he found no support in them. He flailed once more, a final, desperate effort. To no end, however, and he was rewarded for his attempt by a lungful of searing, choking smoke. His skin felt tight and hot, his armor singing in the furnace the village had become. He wheezed, shutting his eyes tight as tiny embers danced into his face, finding their way through the eyeholes of his helmet and popping on his blistered cheeks with explosions of pain.
As he was ready to admit defeat, a flash brighter than the flames engulfed him. A bubble of cool air enveloped his body, and in the blink of the next instant, the entire scene was gone. He squinted up to see the scowl written on Windy's face, but wasn't sure if it was anger or worry. He didn't decide which before he slipped from conciousness, exhausted.
....
Author's Notes:
-Firstly, I'd like to thank everyone who's been so patient in waiting for this chapter to go up, and I'd like to apologize for its shortness. I cut it in the effort to just get it up—the story is far from dead, and I have been working on it diligently when time has permitted. The space between updates is painful. 'NLB' has suffered from the agony of a Windows 98 formatted disk and computers with Windows XP, and I've been unable to access it for many months at a time. But problems have been solved, and 'NLB' is back. Rejoice! Huzzah! Ahem. Yes.
-Secondly, if Yuber seems a little out of character yet, keep in mind that he's still young and is rather inexperienced. And look, armor. :}
-No, the man that owns the True Lightning rune at this point is not Geddoe. We're a little early in history for that.
-Many happy returns!
---Neko 'Do You Want Fries With That' Burd---