Chapter 10: Revision of Plans

A week later they found themselves approaching the great city of Lacour once more, but the excitement was gone. This time it wasn't just some quick run to Lacour to end up in a tournament to see the king. Now they were heading into the certainty of battle against an enemy uncaring, against a fate that seemed inevitable to avoid. But their arrival in Hilton had led to rumors which told of unbridled terror and horror, of monsters coming to assault the very continent. They walked, ever attentive, heading for the looming castle. They reached the gates, and the lone guard posted there. As they looked into the town, desolation. No one save one, perhaps two, people who were not guards were about.

"You there," the guard said, looking a bit relieved that he was seeing people. "Go to the castle with the other refugees."

"But-"

"Go! Don't dawdle around town. Everyone else has fled to the castle for safety from the monsters."

They walked silently through town, the only noise their steps and items, their own breathing. Lacour seemed a pale shadow if itself from a mere time ago, when it was alive with the bustle of people and the excitement of a tournament.

"This is creepy," Rena said, folding her arms across her chest.

Ashton sighed. "Then it must be true, that monsters are attacking Lacour."

"I have no doubt that was next on their plan," Ruprecht said, tightening his grip on his spear. "I'm certain they're letting Shin handle this."

They walked into the castle and to the front reception desk. One of the soldiers spoke. "Who are you? From where have you come? Linga? Hilton? The outreaches?"

"I'm Claude Kenni. We're traveling from Arlia," Claude said, stepping forward. "We came-"

"Arlia? Isn't that a bit far?"

The other soldier was writing, and stopped. "Kenni, say, weren't you the guy who was in the final with that Flac guy?"

"Huh? Ah, yeah, but-"

"You all may stay in the castle. If you need to rest, the waiting room for the participants of the tournament is where you can rest. Please don't go where you haven't been. And don't leave."

Before they could say anything more, they were moved in as more refugees came in. Celine made a face and sighed as they stood in the main hall of the castle. "'Don't go where you haven't been. Stay in the castle.' They treat us like kids!"

"Celine, you're cute when you're irritated," Bowman quipped, and then dodged behind Claude as she tried to smack him.

"Now what?" Claude asked, stepped out from between the two.

"I'd suggest we look for the King since they're not going to be any help," Opera said, pointing back at the two men at the reception desk. Precis nodded in agreement.

They headed upstairs first, and then through the whole castle. Finally, they found a stairway down near the library. Rena looked around as they headed into a laboratory. "Do you think we should be here?" she whispered.

Claude was about to reply, but was cut off by a voice. "Your highness, the front lines are suffering. The commander there is running out of troops. I don't even understand why they had to send me here to tell you. They had plenty of other soldiers who could have come. I should be there."

"Dias?!" Rena's eyes widened as she recognized the voice of her childhood friend. She slipped past Claude and through a door, peering around and stepping in. She could see the familiar green cape and flowing blue hair. Claude and Bowman were next through the door.

"There aren't many more people we can spare, surely they have just about every troop we haven't put to guard towns..."

"That's King Lacour," Bowman said to Claude.

Just then the guard standing just the way down where the small hallway opened into a bigger room turned and looked behind him and saw them standing there. "Hey, you!"

Rena shrieked and stepped back, colliding into Claude. Everyone in the main room turned, and Dias' expression registered minor surprise and shock at seeing Rena and Claude there. A pint-sized boy walked over into view, annoyance and irritation plain. "What are they doing here?! Certainly they're here to steal the Lacour Hope!"

"Bring them here," the king said as the guards escorted the odd group in.

"The what?" Celine asked, and then gawked a bit at the thing in the center of the room.

Bowman sighed. "No, Leon, we're not here to steal the Lacour Hope. I'm surprised its gotten this far, truth be told."

"Shows how much you know!" Leon stormed across the room, folding his short arms over his chest as his white lab coat trailed behind him. Short blue hair had framed a small but serious face, but large furry brown ears protruded out form high on his head in the unruly mess. Rena couldn't help the small smile creeping across her face at the sight of the child. There was no way he could have been anywhere near even Precis' age.

"Ah, Professor Bowman," a white-haired man who appeared to be the king said. "Its been some time."

Bowman sighed and put a hand to his forehead. "I am not a professor," he sighed. "But, your highness, it has been some time."

"What a waste," they heard Leon mutter.

"Anyway, what brings you here? And who are these people?" the King asked, walking over to Bowman.

One of the other scientists, a woman, spoke up. "Sire, that young blonde man, I've seen him before - he was the one who lost to Dias!"

"Is that true?"

Claude felt a bit uneasy at being put on the spot. Dias glanced down at Claude before speaking. "Your Highness, Claude here was indeed the man who fought against me," he said casually. "They're friends of mine."

Bowman nodded. "And of mine. At any rate, we came here because we need to get to El at the utmost urgency."

"I'm sorry, but that won't be possible, not with the assault at the Lacour northern borders by the monsters."

Ruprecht started to step forward, about to say something when Ashton grabbed his wrist and looked at him sharply, forcing him to stop whatever it was he was going to do. Ashton stepped forward instead. "Your highness, the fate of this world matters on this. We must destroy the Sorcery Globe. Is there anything we can do?"

"As I'm sure you heard, we're losing the battle there, with many fighters injured and unable to continue holding back the assault. Our only chance is this-" he gestured to the large cannon - "the Lacour Hope. But we lack one thing."

"We need energy stone to power it," Leon said, whirling about, eyes shining. "And I was going to go to the Hoffmann Ruins to get some before Mr. Flac here showed up." Leon scowled and glared at Dias, although the swordsman was unbothered by the small boy's look. Dias rolled his eyes and looked away, finding Rena at his other side instead.

"We can't let Leon go alone, and there's not enough troops to send with him to the ruins," the female scientist said.

"Momma, I can do it alone, really..."

Ruprecht spoke up. "I... have a solution." Everyone looked at him, and he shifted slightly at the sudden attention. "You need more people at the front lines, and people to go with him, right? We have ... eight here. Four can go with the child-"

"My name is Leon, thank you," he interrupted.

"-and the others can go to the front lines with Dias until we come back with the stone."

The king mulled over this for a bit, everyone waiting. "Its a good idea. Do you mind?"

Claude shook his head. "Its about the best solution to both problems. I'll go with Leon to the ruins." He looked at Opera then.

"Ruins," she said, pondering whether perhaps Ernest had gone to these ones as well. It was her only chance to find out.

Celine spoke up next. "I'll go with them."

Bowman nodded. "I'll tote along with them and Leon. The kid may need help" That raised a minor protest form Leon who huffed a bit.

"Then its settled. The rest of you will go to the front lines with Dias in the morning."

~*~

The drumming of fingers on a balcony rail was the only sound for long moments at the Elurian tower, til at last Cyril muttered his complaints. "Twice I've failed to finish what I started, and twice I've been interrupted. Ruprecht shan't be so lucky again. I-"

"You're going to get on Indalecio's bad side if you keep this up," a voice cautioned from behind. Cyril spun, his dark robes flaring about him. His single good eye gazed at the person whom the voice belonged to. Vesper stood there, stern looking as ever. His features were certainly older- looking than Cyril's, and his short silvery-white hair was kept neat with little maintenance in a flat-top.

"I honestly don't care," Cyril spat, brushing a few stray strands of hair from his left eye back over to the batch over the right. Beneath the locks of hair that covered the right side of his face was a useless eye, a victim from the fight against the Nedians so many ... many years ago. Though its sight was no longer of this world, he had managed to gain a sixth sense through it, so that his right side was never 'blind' and would no leave openings. Only twice had it failed him - once with Indalecio, and once again with that swordsman who had defended Ruprecht and-

"Still sore from that fight?" Vesper inquired.

"Yes," he replied, his tone icy. "I will get my revenge on Ashton."

"Oh, is that his name? Jibril and Nicolaus left out that detail in their report."

"No doubt in part because of my brother," Cyril said, leaning against the rail. "At any rate, why are you here?"

"I came to check on you. Indalecio's been edgy lately, especially since you came back from-"

"Oh, he's just bitter because we're nine now instead of ten. I say good riddance to excess rubbish. I don't see why he worries so." Cyril looked off to the east. "Besides that, I fear he may be growing to fond of this place. It might jeopardize everything."

"I think you're losing it."

"Am I? What makes you think he's worried about Ruprecht being gone? He's probably inwardly joyous he has one less of us to deal with. I know him. He's going to betray us. Just mark my words..."

Vesper shook his head and walked off, but the seed of doubt was planted.