Chapter 3: Dirty Plots, Slippery Plans, and Shaky Alliances
"I once killed a hundred knights single-handedly… To me, you two are nothing more than insects."
-Beatrix
The power circulating through her fists had been enough to slay men and women of both great skill and great strength with a single, well-placed blow. With her fists she had broken dragons, the winged terrors of Ivalice and so-called and strongest monsters known to the planet. Her fists' strength had allowed her to tear the horns of behemoths out from their skulls all the way to the root—in her days of adventure years past she had come across many things: cloth, fur, flesh, stone, steel, bone, and scale, all had given way when brought to test against the energy bared within one lovely knuckle.
At the moment, her fists were resting uncomfortably, and without purpose, in her lap.
Brushing a lock of silky, long dark hair out of her face, she tried to concentrate upon stilling her emotions, filling herself with only the gentle and calm flame of her aura, as she had been taught by Master Zangan seemingly lifetimes ago.
Her concentration was slashed through, however, by the gently blaring and cuttingly terrible music being spewed through speakers into the small waiting room.
'Lobby music…' She thought with a distasteful flare of rage. Her patience was not magnanimous, but she had always prided herself on being a peacekeeper, even among her friends, but now she could feel her temper rising, matching that of her companion beside her. Though where she suffered in silence, he was a hell's pot of muttering, cursing, shifting and twitching, the butt of an unlit cigarette stuffed crooked and bent into one corner of his half-shaven mouth, fierce blue eyes moving about the room at 100 miles an hour, searching for sometime—anything—with which to focus on, to release him of the boredom choking the room like volatile miasma.
'Waiting rooms are a $&'ing plague on our !$%'ing species!' He thought with a volatile snarl in the direction of a small fly as it buzzed along the wall on the entire other side of the room.
Just when it seemed like the two could take no more, like the plain-colored lobby, littered with only two tables, several chairs, and some outdated magazines would break them, or reduce them into a pair of enraged, putty-brained madmen, the reception door opened, and a pert, pretty, and familiar blonde woman in a black suit and red tie stepped out into the waiting room to greet them. Smiling somewhat devilishly, somewhat knowingly, she said: "Ms. Lockheart? Mr. Highwind? Boss Reno will see you now."
Storming to his feet, Cid hefted his lance, the Venus Gospel and roared, "It's about damn time!" before making his way towards the doorway, pushing past the pleasantly smiling Elena while Tifa rose from her seat, in a much more reserved manner than her companion, and slowly walked after him.
"You didn't have to make us wait so long." She said to the blonde Turk as she passed by her, to which the woman shrugged in mock innocence and replied,
"Boss Reno is a busy man! Though he was absolutely thrilled when he heard you had come to see him, are you sure your loud friend won't get in the way?"
"I'd go into the clinic for Mako poisoning before I'd let anything go on between me and Reno." Tifa countered, ignoring Elena's smug look as she walked through the doorway and into the first corridor of the Turk Main Office.
Several years ago, the Turks had been nothing but a petty crime syndicate—operating out of numerous hideouts across the planet Ivalice, and with only four members to its name. They had garnered respect and fear simply for the fact that those four members were more than enough to take on anything other crime organizations could throw at them. That, along with the fact that they had been allied with the once all-powerful Shinra conglomerate, had made them the best in the world.
But, the era of Shinra had fallen. With Meteor's fall, and the defeat of the madman Sephiroth, the cataclysm that had shook Ivalice had reduced it once again, to a time of medieval strife. New nations rose, battling and conquering one another until finally a fragile peace arose between peoples in a mere three years. Now there was Alexandria, ruled by a Queen few had ever seen and built up from the ruins of what had once been Kalm, with Midgar nothing but a dark, forbidden valley to the southwest. Neighboring the green hills, fertile farmlands, and shining regal cities of Alexandria was Lindblum, built out of the devastated, earthquake-fractured tunnels of the Mythril Mine, and ruled by the engineer, kindly young Prince Marquis, and the man to first mass-produce airships as tools of war and defense. Wutai still existed far to the west, but the rest of Ivalice's landscape had changed drastically in the past three years.
And its people had changed with it—as the Turks themselves were living proof of. For one, they now had their own Main Office based in New Midgar, a plate-based city built much like the old forgotten Midgar, and laying somewhere between Junon and Lindblum, around the area where Fort Condor had sat years ago before the Condor fell. Not to mention several other headquarters branched all throughout Ivalice's inner and outlying territories.
And Reno, Rude, and Elena, who had opposed Tifa and her companions so fervently all those years ago, were right at the head of the new organization—one which boasted an easy thousand members now, including mercenaries in numerous countries and nations, spies, assassins, business agents, company owners, and all other sorts of people spanning the globe.
Mostly though, it just made Tifa and Cid angry that they had to wait in the waiting room of enemies whose lives they had spared years ago, only to come to for help now. Reno had probably been clipping his toenails or something.
Following the passageway for several minutes, the martial artist AVALANCHE barmaid kept her eyes on the broad back of the 40-some year old blonde engineer walking in front of her. She didn't know if he knew where he as going or not, but Cid had always been a no-nonsense, direct sort of man—the type who would sooner wander for days in the wilderness than ask for directions. Likewise, she thought it better to just let him lead and not question him, especially when he was so angry at the treatment they had received upon entering the Turks office.
"Cid Highwind? I'm sorry you're not in the books, are you sure you called ahead?"
"I'm $$%# 'Cid Highwind' you jackass! I don't hafta call ahead dammit! Is that headset is too tight on your brain? Jus' tell your boss to think back to the guy who had his throat balanced on this here lance and he'll remember quick enough! Damn $#!…"
Tifa didn't agree that his method of approach was always appropriate… but it was obvious to her that some agent of the Turks had seen them coming and called ahead, and in reply Reno, or Elena, or both had instructed their associates to act as rudely as possible. It was obvious—even if they hadn't called in and made an appointment with the now-dubbed: "Boss Reno", their names were famous now, since the ordeal with Sephiroth that they had stopped, saving the planet itself, along with the lives of everyone on it. Her thoughts drifted back some to those days, a misty look overtaking her eyes as she walked behind Cid, hands tucked behind her back and long black hair trailing as she remembered memories not very long-past that had shaped not only her life, but the lives of everyone on Ivalice… she promptly walked right into Cid's back, drawing a grunted curse and a glare from the man as he used his free hand to open the large, black double doors standing in front of them and entered Boss Reno's "office". Tifa and Cid's jaws dropped as they entered, the scruffy-looking pilot nearly dropping his lance as he looked around the spacious chamber's interior. If this place was an office, then the Midgar slums had been high-society suburbs.
Neon light from signs and billboards that looked to have been collected from the ruins of Midgar served as the main source of lighting in the room, besides the dingy, warm yellow light produced by the oversized bulbs hanging over the slick green pool table off to one side of the room. One side of the "office" had been turned into a full bar, with stools and a glass case filled with different sorts of liquor and alcohol. Only at the far end did a large black work desk sit, and that area was very poorly lit, pointing to the fact that it was probably not used all that often.
Tifa gasped as she recognized the headlight from her old bar in the slums, the "7th Heaven". She had since reopened the bar in Costa Del Sol, purchasing the building from the previous owner where it sat quite conveniently just below the villa where she and Cloud lived these days; still, seeing the sign brought back memories, and seeing it here…
"Well, well, well, if it isn't AVALANCHE's perky cheerleader. Sorry about the lobby—we really are trying to make it more interesting y'know?"
"That's all? Ain't cha got nuthin to say t' me?" Cid asked as Reno stepped from the shadows of the room, a pool cue in one hand, a pair of nail clippers in the other, and dressed in the same Turks attire they had always seen him in.
Looking to Cid, the red-haired Turk smiled and said, "But Cid, I WAS talking to you."
Tifa had to hold back a chuckle at this while Cid sent a heated glower the other man's way.
"But you two didn't come all the way here to get insulted by me… or ask me out on a date?" He finished, looking to Tifa with a raised brow and large smile on his face. From the look she gave him, his smile wilted into a frown and he cleared his throat, loosening his tie some and sitting down on the edge of the pool table. "So then, what can I do for you?"
This was where Tifa came in. Cid had gone along with her mostly so that if the Turks, or anyone else stupid enough to try started trouble with the gentle-seeming barmaid that they would have even more trouble than they bargained for. But he was certainly no skilled speaker, or negotiator (unless the negotiations you wanted consisted of Cid shoving a still smoldering cigarette butt into the face of whoever he was trying to convince to see his point), and at the moment, with Cloud off on some errand in Alexandria, Vincent and Barret who-knows-where, and Yuffie supposedly dead or captured, Tifa was really the only one to send. Besides, she knew Reno, and that would give her an edge when dealing with the arrogant, slippery, and quick-witted Turk.
"It's like this, Reno." She said, patting Cid on the back to remind him to keep calm, they had come here for help, after all, as she stepped forward to petition the Turk Boss. "We need help. It's serious." At this point Tifa had expected the other man to dive right into a long schpeel of sarcastic remarks and comments mostly mocking the "great saviors of the planet for coming to the lowly Turks for help". Surprisingly it did not come.
Rather, Reno set the nail clippers down on the table and pulled out a cigarette, motioning to Cid.
Tifa did not know when he had started smoking. Neither did Cid, but he recognized a man in need, as well as the motion, and quickly tossed his lighter over to the Turk, who caught it, nodded to him in thanks, and lit up.
"When Tifa Lockheart and Cid Highwind come to my door I already know it's serious. I'm sorry about you having to wait in the lobby and all, but I really was busy. Just got reports from my agents in Wutai… word is your little thief friend bit the dust."
Absolute, silence reigned in the room for a moment as both Cid and Tifa took in the information. Though they had always had a healthy distrust for the young ninja, as well as an annoyance for the girl that was easy to understand, they had all fought together—grown together—back in the days of Sephiroth, and their bonds had only strengthened in the past three years. It was daunting business hearing that one of the people who had become as close as family had died. "Yuffie?" Tifa asked, more to herself in disbelief than to make clear Reno was talking about the same person.
"Bullshit." Cid said from where he stood, crossing his arms over his chest. "That little brat's too feisty to die. Besides, she made me a promise that she was gonna steal my airship and rob me blind while I was on my deathbed."
"Why your deathbed?" Reno asked, confused.
"The only time she'd be able to get away with o' course." Cid replied matter-of-factly.
Reno shrugged, holding the cigarette away from his mouth, blowing a puff of smoke, and then coughing. Frowning at the cancer stick between his fingers he said "Maybe so. Whoever hit her waited until she and the force she was bringing out with her were just outside of scout range of Wutai before doing so. A secret route got discovered or something and they were caught completely unprepared. Anyways the battlefield's been wiped clean now, no one left as evidence—dead or alive. That means I can't say for certain she's dead or not… but chances are slim. We think it's that guado warlock."
"Seymour?" Tifa said, to which Reno nodded, taking another puff of his cigarette… and coughing again.
"I thought all the guado were extinct." Cid muttered, to which a voice replied:
"They are. He's the last one." Elena walked casually into the office, moving past Tifa and Cid to stand beside Reno.
"You came here for two things. One, was information on your friends… I've given you everything I have in that regard—sorry, I don't know anything about the other two. And two, you came here to get Turks, because like the goody-goodies you are, you're planning on doing something stupid, and going up against the Queen."
Neither Tifa nor Cid needed to say anything, he had read them and guessed their reasons for coming perfectly.
"Well I don't have many people to spare—all spread out making me gil and all, but I do have one man."
"One man?" Cid balked loudly, slamming the butt of his spear into the ground. "You ungrateful whelp! I never shoulda let you live back in that tunnel!"
Both Reno and Elena chuckled, the blonde woman taking up speaking while the red-haired man tried another smoke. "Don't underestimate him. Besides Rude, Reno, and I he really is the best we have. And we're going to give him to you for free."
Tifa thought about arguing—they needed armies, not heroes. The Queen of Alexandria alone commanded the largest military ground force in Ivalice… but the Turks had been right about everything else, she supposed for now they might as well see what they could do with one free mercenary. "Alright. As long as he's free."
Laughing, Reno said, "You sound like you've done this before."
Tifa's expression darkened, to which Reno laughed even more.
"So who is he? Better not be some punk like you. That'd do us more harm than good." Cid said gruffly.
"His name is Diego. A gunfighter, and martial artist. Apparently he trained under Master Zangan…" Elena said, looking to Tifa, whose eyes immediately brightened. In her mind Master Zangan had died far too early in his life (though he had been an old man when death took him)and left far too few full-fledged students. Besides herself, the brunette barmaid had never met another.
"But he's not here. We sent him out on a mission before we knew you were coming and it would take a while to call him back. Right now he's on his way to Wutai to find out what really happened with your friend and that guado. Just let him know he's been hired by you and if he has any doubts tell him to call in HQ and we'll give him the thumbs-up." Reno said.
"So what's he look like?" Tifa asked.
Reno smiled, "You'll know him when you see him. But there's a photo waiting for you at the front desk that you can pick up on your way out. Now get lost—it's bad for my reputation having goody-goody 'heroes' like you around the office."
Seeing that their business was concluded, Cid gave a superior humph! and stalked out. Tifa waited a moment, and then bowed to Reno and Elena, surprising them both with the act before saying, "Thank you Reno, Elena. We really do appreciate your help, and give Rude my best." And then she left as well, leaving the two Turks alone in the musty, gently lit pool room/bar/office.
"You didn't tell them." Elena said, her eyes still on the doorway their two past rivals had exited from, hands tucked into the coat pockets of her black suit-jacket.
"No." Reno replied.
"They are going to find out you know. It's like the old guy said, they might feel bad about letting us live back then and decide to do something about it—"
"Elena," Reno said, cutting off whatever else she had been about to say. "Shut up. Go do whatever it is you do around here. And tell whoever it is you need to tell to get Rude back here on the double."
"He's on vacation."
"I know that dammit."
"And who should I tell to call him back?"
"Whoever takes care of that sort of thing. We do have people for that don't we?" Reno said, his temper rising, knowing that Elena was poking at him just to make him angry, and becoming angrier knowing it was working.
"That would be our receptionist—you'd think you could at least remember her name. You're the one who hired her after all."
"I hired her for her ass—and in a second I'll be firing you for your mouth, now get lost."
"Good to see the role of leadership isn't going to your head… Sir," Elena said with a mock bow before exiting the room, leaving Reno alone with his thoughts. The woman had cooled down a lot since when she had first been brought on three years ago—frankly, Reno had liked her better when he could boss her around and tell her anything he liked knowing she was just a nervous rookie who really didn't know any better.
There were a lot of things he hadn't told Tifa and Cid, though in all honesty, he had meant to. Ever since the call had come in that two people matching their description were walking Jackshot Lane towards the Turk HQ, he had been preparing himself for how he would tell them. The phrasing of his words, the tone of his voice—everything. He had even tried meditating on it, willing himself not to back out for the entire time up until the receptionist—what was her name, Wendy? Yes, Wendy—had buzzed him saying that she didn't think the blonde guy with the big spear was going to wait for much longer. But once they had come in, his entire plan had fallen to pieces. Memories, memories that he hated, memories that reminded him every moment of every day that they were better than he was came flooding back. Memories of their battles, their arguments, the time spent plotting against them and recovering from wounds given by them. Memories that tied the Turks, and AVALANCHE together tighter than anything else on Ivalice. And he couldn't tell them. He couldn't tell them it was a Turk spy that had betrayed Yuffie Kisaragi's ninja squad out of Wutai and led them to their very possible death at the hands of the mysterious Seymour Guado. He couldn't tell them that he had known about the entire operation, or that the only reason he didn't know whether Yuffie was dead or not was because his spy had been killed the moment after the ambush had succeeded and the battle was won. He couldn't tell them that it was their friend—Barret Wallace that had for some reason joined the Guado warlock and taken down Wutai's princess, Yuffie Kisaragi. He couldn't tell them that the Turk they had hired, the one on his way to Wutai now was only going there to get revenge for the Turk the damned Guado had betrayed and killed. But the truth would come out, just as Elena said. Of that he was very sure. A burning in his lungs reminded him of the cigarette, and looking down at it he tossed it to the ground and stomped it out with the heel of his shoe. He didn't smoke, it had just been a passing thought that maybe… the cigarette would kill him, so that Cid wouldn't have to. "If they want to kill me," Reno said to himself, hefting the pool cue and spinning it atop the palm of his hand, "then I won't plead for my life… but they are gonna have to work for it. And I definitely won't let it be to some rundown greaser with a smoking problem… it'll have to be Cloud that kills me. I won't accept anything else. Memories or no, I'm a Turk, and Turks look out for themselves and their own. What went down in Wutai was business, nothing else. I wasn't trying to hurt them, it was just gil in the pocket."
'But you could have said 'no'. There were, and are, plenty of other jobs in Ivalice.' Struck by his own conscience, he dropped the pool cue and went to his desk. He never used it, so there was not even a chair there for him to sit down at, but it did not matter, he didn't mind standing for a little while. Picking up the phone he buzzed the receptionist's desk. "Hey Wendy, they leave yet?"
"Yes sir, just a minute ago."
"Good. Did Elena tell you to get Rude on the horn for me?"
"No sir, I'm sorry she didn't, maybe I didn't hear her? Or maybe she just forgot to tell me?"
Gritting his teeth as he mentally cursed Elena and her new "empowerment" attitude, Reno didn't let the momentary frustration shine through in his dialect. Wendy was as innocent and sweet an eighteen-yr. old girl you could find, and if she thought he were upset with her she would probably run out of the office crying and then jump off a bridge or something. He remembered how excited she had been when he had hired her after the first interview, even though she lacked any experience or any job history at all. He had just followed his gut, which was how he made all of his decisions. Except for the one about Wutai—for that one he had listened to his head, telling himself all that garbage about not owing those jerks from AVALANCHE anything, rather than listening to his gut, which was telling him to tell the creepy guado on the other line to: "go suck an egg" and then hang up. "Yeah, she probably just forgot. Busy woman—anyways, tell Rude to meet me in the 'Regular Place', he'll know what I mean."
"Regular Place? Yes sir, got it. Are you leaving the office sir?"
"Yep, looks like I am. Got a favor I owe to some old friends" He replied, even though she had not asked why.
"Are you leaving the city sir?"
"Most definitely! New Midgar's not good for much except us. Not like the old girl at all. Now that Midgar was a gem."
Giggling over the line, the girl said, "It sure was sir!" Even though she had never even seen the original Midgar in her entire life, or even been outside of New Midgar where she had been born, "Well have a good trip then sir! I'll see you when you get back!"
"Will do, hold down the fort for us, and don't let Elena get too comfortable in my office. It might be awhile, but I am coming back."
Deaf to the gurgling screams of the Knight, a young man barely out of his teen years, Gafgarion pulled his sword, Nightmare, free of the broken boy's chest. The fall had nearly killed him, and his injuries would have seen to it, but all Gafgarion knew was that the boy was an enemy of the Queen, which made him an enemy to him. So the only thing he owed the boy was death—as quickly and painfully as possible. He was back in Evil Forest, and looking up at the broken path leading to Ice Cavern, he realized that it would be nigh-impossible to reach the summit after what the traitor Beatrix had done to the slope. Looking around him at all the bodies, he sheathed his sword, not even attempting to clean the blood from the blade. He was sure there were more, but he did not have time to look for them—she would be contacting him soon, and he would prefer to be on his way back to the castle when she did. Both friend and foe alike lay around him, and though it was a surprising fact, many of them had survived the tremendous fall from Ice Cavern's mountain trail, though all had suffered grueling injuries, of the sort that prevented them from doing anything but moaning or bleeding where they lay. Gafgarion had dealt with them all in turn. To his own men, the Dragon in Fear Knights, he had given merciful slumber in death, removing their heads in one clean, swift chop. The foolhardy turncoats who had taken up arms against himself and the Queen, however, he murdered where they lay. The fates of the two perhaps did not seem altogether different in the long run, but the Dark Knight was not bothered by such things. He made haste through the forest, knowing the fiends and monsters that called the place home would be coming soon to feast upon the many dead that had gathered that night.
It happened as he was crossing a stream, his body seized up completely, eyes focusing on a single point, and glazing over everywhere else. It was discomforting to him, as always, when the Queen contacted him mentally, like this, but he had learned the less he resisted, the easier it was, but he still could not submit to her domination completely—it was just not in his nature, even if she were the Queen, his mind and spirit were a place for him, and no one else.
"Gafgarion, are we as one?"
"Yes my Queen, I can hear you clearly. Are you aware of all that has happened?"
"Yes, I have read your thoughts. Beatrix made a daring move—I did not think she had the stomach to do as she did this night."
"Neither did I my Queen, though in retrospect had I known, I see little that could have been done to stop her."
"It does not matter now. Come back to the castle, we shall allow my daughter to go for now."
"My Queen?"
"It is as we presumed. The ex-SOLDIER, Cloud Strife has made to join the Princess's forces at the exit of Ice Cavern."
Gafgarion's astral mind growled. "You should have positioned me to stop him instead of that woman my Queen. I could have killed him where she failed."
"I do not doubt you my Knight, but he is just as good as everyone says him to be. After all, it was he who killed the great Sephiroth. But then again, he still does not know the fate of his friends."
Gafgarion grew anxious, his mind buzzing with the emotion, unable to control his thoughts and feelings as the Queen could her own while they were connected as such. "It is dangerous my Queen. Your beloved toy: 'Chaos' could awaken at any moment. He might try to harm you—,"
"And he would die where he stood. But be easy my Knight, return to the castle. I have other tools working in the wilderness that will follow the Princess for me."
Gafgarion gave a mental sniff of distaste. "The 'Witchknight'? He is untrustworthy and wholly unreliable."
"I am aware of that Gafgarion. I have other tools besides him. Now return to me and see Garland's new gift before I send them off. We have plans to make concerning the Prince Marquis and his precious Lindblum."
And just like that, the link was broken. Gafgarion stood where he was for a moment, thinking. 'Garland is just as the Witchknight… unreliable and untrustworthy. Be careful where you lay your trust my Queen, I might not always be there to protect you.' And with those thoughts, he made double-haste in his journey back towards Alexandria Castle, as if at any moment all of the Queen's enemies might rise up to attack her. If it were to happen, Gafgarion wanted to be sure that he at least was there with his sword to stand in front of her.
"This is a cave in the middle of the wild! Why do we have to figure out a puzzle here?!" Darklithe exclaimed, ardently pissed off at the shifting, rotating, up-and-down thundering block pillars of ice and snow set in their path.
"Quit whining," Paine replied noncommittally, examining the separated filaments of bridge way as they moved all about in front of them, coming to a pause every three minutes, where they remained still for half that time, and then began their erratic circus of movement once again. The only problem was, a minute and a half was not near enough time to sprint across the frozen bridge before the movement began again—and even so, the path was only several feet wide, and layered in ice and snow, making an all-out sprint nearly suicidal. "I think I figured it out," she said suddenly, catching Darklithe totally off-guard.
"What? Figured what out? That?" He said, pointing to the actions of the snow bridge going on in front of them.
She nodded.
"WHAT? HOW?!"
"Watch." She said, and then dashed forward. Moving at top speed, the black-garbed woman lunged off from the lip of snow they were perched upon, her jump bringing her down to land perfectly atop a pillar of the icy bridge just as it was rising up. She spun immediately upon landing, her feet swiveling through the snow, and then she had jumped again, falling several heart-stopping feet before coming up over another rising bridge-piece, this one spinning as it ascended, and taking her with it, rising to full height, where she jumped again, repeating the process for what seemed to Darklithe a fearful eternity, though in reality it was only half a minute. And then all the pieces came to rest, settling straight and firm, and the woman ran the rest of the way across, jumping to the safety of the crevasse's other side just as the convulsions began again. "Follow me when you're ready," she called across, as if it were the easiest thing in the world. "I'm going to scout ahead." And then her already distant form disappeared as she strode away and around a winding curve of the ice-laden path.
And that left the uncertain young Witchknight alone, scratching his head, wondering just how in the world he was going to do what he had just witness the woman Paine do and not fall to his death in the process.
Moving in her usual, confident stride, Paine examined the layout of the place as she went. There was nothing striking about this area—hardly anything at all that would tell it apart from the last… just ice, snow, and caves. The endless caves… if one did not have a good map… she suddenly remembered her odd new accomplice and stopped. 'That's right, he has a map.' She remembered now why she had put up with him so far now. Of course she couldn't totally lie to herself—he wasn't all that bad—in fact he even amused her—though only a little, and he had saved her life. If he had been overly annoying, she would have just taken the map from him and left his company. 'I should probably go back and make sure he doesn't kill himself trying to clear that gap.' She thought, reminding herself that not everyone on Ivalice was as skilled as she was. Walking back the way she had come, the sounds of the active pillars of ice that made up the bridge roaring in her ears, she rounded the bend that led to the bridge-cavern and was shocked to find Darklithe now on the near side. He was on his hands and knees, panting for breath, and crossing her arms over chest Paine approached him. "I'm impressed. Not sure how you made it but good job, I was afraid I was going to have to hold your hand through it." Darklithe did not respond, and Paine tilted her head in confusion, peering as what parts of his face she could see. Was he sweating? Now the risky journey across the ice pillars had certainly taken some skill, but it hadn't lasted long enough for her to really build up any sort of sweat. 'Maybe he just got scared.' She reasoned to herself, once again coming to the realization that not everyone on Ivalice was as iron-sided and adaptable as she was. Hearing him making his way to his feet, she looked at him, preparing to make some snide comment, but what she saw turned her bowels as cold as the glacial wind flowing through the Ice Cavern.
"Something wrong?" Darklithe asked off-handedly, not noticing the look on Paine's face as he brushed patches of snow from his clothing, skin, and hair.
Paine blinked, and then shook her head. There was absolutely nothing wrong with the Witchknight, but she could've sworn that not a moment ago… no, there was nothing; her eyes had obviously been playing tricks on her. Normally she wouldn't have considered such a thing to be possible, but it was very cold and she wasn't dressed for it, maybe the temperature was just getting to her. "No, nothing at all, you ready to go?" She said.
Darklithe nodded, and together, the two rounded the bend ahead of them and went into the connecting chamber of ice and snow. As they walked, they found themselves conversing about various points and topics without any real importance or meaning, simply to pass the time as they walked the cold paths of Ice Cavern.
"So you don't really care either way?" Paine asked, her dry tone of voice and style of speech making the question sound like declaration of fact.
Darklithe ignored how she made the comment sound and nodded in reply, "Yeah. Queen—Princess, it really doesn't matter. It's easy for people who have no life to look at the Queen and say: 'You're wrong', and its easy for others to look at us for working for the Queen for gil and say 'You're wrong', but aside from the fact that they have no idea the circumstances or motivations behind everything being done, does it really matter anyways?"
"What do you mean?" Paine asked, inconspicuously attempting to draw a straight answer out of her somewhat cryptic new companion.
"I hear a lot of people around Alexandria—old people—saying that the Queen used to be so great, how at the Princess's age, the two were one in the same. Who's to say the pressures of ruling a kingdom won't turn the Princess down the same road as he mother? Is it so unbelievable a possibility? If they had the resources, and had contacted me, I would have worked for the Princess just as readily as I took the job from the Queen. I don't have any allegiance for either of them, only the money they're paying me."
Paine nodded but said nothing. This… changed things.
The two passed under an arch of glistening ice and entered into a wide, almost egg-shaped chamber of the Ice Cavern… just in time to witness the entire ceiling caving in atop their heads.
"Your precious woman fell under my eye this eve, Shuyin. Desperate to be with you, she remains with no thought or desire but your touch—her heart, soul, and essence fixed upon your return… how long will she continue to wait as the dutiful dog? No matter how strong one's conviction, or will, or even supposed love… those without hearts cannot linger as they wish for eternity…"
The chaotic void of Terra wrapped and warped around the dark-armored figure like liquid encased in clear elastic. The man he spoke to quickly came into being, forming out of the surrounding darkness: a young man, blonde-haired, and with dark eyes brimming with fury, despair, and all other sorts of emotions locked within one who's soul is tortured by regrets of the past.
Shuyin did not speak, he merely glared. Garland mocked him like this often, and through the many long centuries he had been forced to serve him, he had learned that raising a hand against the dark-armored old man served no purpose. He simply could not be hurt. Shuyin had watched him beheaded on the field of battle, only for his body to pick up, and reattach his fallen cranium before destroying his attacker. All he could do was continue to serve, with the hope that soon his bonds of servitude would be complete. That he could finally return to his precious Lenne… that he could finally die. "Her heart is your concern Garland. If anything were to happen to her spirit… I do not need to threaten you."
The withered old man, his pale, withered skin and wispy white hair offset by his gigantean build and blazing red eyes laughed in reply to the seemingly young, blonde-haired man's words. "Was the initial fall of the woman not your failing, lieutenant? Protect her you could not, and so her life was taken. But forgive me; one should not pepper old and ugly wounds. Do not worry yourself over heart Shuyin—I will not lose the morsel. More importantly, your time as my vassal draws closer to its completion, serve me well, and it shall not be another blissful thousand years, yes?
"Now then, of the Queen, she is blind to all but the gifts and portions of power I give to her—like a dog following its trail of bones into the maw of a dragon. But her wellbeing her lackeys do observe. I will not have my plans ruined by such little creatures—we will dispose of them, Shuyin. Not a trace of their weak hearts are to remain."
"Chaos, her lieutenant, and Gafgarion, her only remaining general of any stature—how would you like them destroyed master?" Shuyin intoned.
A smile creased Garland's lips. "The Dark Knight could be used in our efforts yet, though he would not know that his actions lay in our purpose. He may remain for now, but the one called Chaos, he unsettles me. He is unnatural, his nature held in thrall by the Queen's powers. He must be eliminated, or at least pushed aside, before our plans can continue."
"I shall send a Brooding Queen to his bedchamber my lord Garland." Shuyin said, veiling his thoughts as he spoke. He would act the faithful servant for now—it was all he could do—but if it seemed the old wisp of a man intended to keep him barred from Lenne for another number of centuries… well then he would have to go his master's enemies, and began to make plots and plans of his own to ensure the death of the great and immortal Garland.
It was a testament to the cruelty of the night so far, that none of the knights or mercenaries who fell through the ice died, or were even severely injured in the fall caused by the raging, Oversouled Wyerd.
As terrible a fact as it was—the truth of the matter was that the weakest, and even those of moderate, or slightly above-average skill or strength had already been weeded out and slain. From the first fight in Evil Forest, and through the many perilous battles that led to the present moment, now only the best and most enduring of the knights and mercenaries in Garnet's party remained.
Granted, it truly was not that far of a fall in the first place, but even as they fell, those that could were striking out at the Wyerd-Oversoul while they dropped through the icy air, and for Darklithe and Paine below, it was a visual wonder to behold.
Nikki's Grand Finale technique ripped into the large, sparkling monster's back, his rapier slamming into the creature's spine and snapping off, the point embedding itself in the beast's back as the blue-haired mercenary fell past it, leaving room for Beatrix to slash down with her sword from above, thick blue and yellow cords of bristling electricity storming into life from the empty air where her blade passed, and crashing down into the falling Wyerd in her Thunder Slash attack.
With the other knights and mercenaries all hacking away at the thing as they fell, the Wyerd was dead before it hit the ground.
Those who had fallen, slowly, almost grudgingly, as if distressed to still be alive and conscious after all they had been put through that night—picked themselves up off of the cold ice and onto their feet, all eyes eventually coming to rest on the two strangers standing in their presence.
"Identify yourself." Beatrix commanded of the black-wearing man and woman standing in the snow several paces away from them, her hand on the hilt of her sword, and her single eye shining defiance. This damned night could try all it wanted—she would take every fight and obstacle it threw at her—and she would not lose once.
Completely shocked, Darklithe looked upon a figure he knew well, though he had never seen her in life until now. It was Beatrix, Great General of Alexandria, standing before his very eyes beside Princess Garnet and some blue-haired man with a pistol, brushing snow and chunks of ice and Wyerd fur off of her person. She was just as beautiful as all the tales had said, but in the same right, he could not see where the strength of legend she was rumored to possess might lie. She was not particularly powerful at a glance, though she did hold an attractive body, with wide, shapely hips and a tapered, firm waist. Aware that at the moment, due to the payment he had received from the Queen's man Chaos, he was an enemy to the group standing before him, Darklithe was at a loss of what to do.
Paine spoke up for the Witchknight, in his moment of flummox, by drawing her sword in the presence of one of the greatest swordswomen on the planet and adopting a cocky fighting posture with her back facing her newly-made opponent. "'Great General Beatrix' huh? … I'm not impressed."
Darklithe nearly squeaked out loud, so convinced was he that that was absolutely the last thing she should have done.
Angered by the other woman more than anything else, Beatrix drew her sword, Save the Queen for the fourth time that evening and stepped out in front of the knights and mercenaries that had taken up furious residence between her and the silver-haired woman with their weapons held at the ready. "Aren't you even going to face me you foolish knave?"
Paine combed several thick-spiked tresses of silver hair from her face with her free hand and smiled sidewise at the one-eyed woman. "You aren't worthy to be faced by me."
Beatri'x face slipped into one of cool composure at the comment, and she flicked a curled lock of brown hair from her own face before holding her sword out in front of her to point at her two opponents. "I once killed a hundred knights single-handedly… To me, you two are nothing more than insects."
Darklithe, who was unaware of when he had been included with the idiot Paine as the Alexandrian general's enemy, could only watch in bewilderment as Beatrix charged headlong towards them.
And the idiot Paine only grinned.
CLIFFHANGER!!!!!—Eat it biatches! And 'till next time (hopefully soon), PEACE!