Chrono Cross Second Journey
Fan Novelization
6 Three Is Company
Termina, considered the most advanced civilization on the soils of El Nido, stood proudly on the coastline at the northeastern part of the central continent. Being the closest piece of land on the central continent to northeastern seasonal rapids, it was a strategic harbor for El Nido's shipping and trading lines, and a gateway to the greater continents beyond. Its housing of white stone sprawled from one edge of the outskirts to another for five miles wide. Its creative architectures marked the pinnacle of a young, vibrant society, and its color of purity polished with the glory of its leaders.
The Acacia Dragoons -- governor of El Nido.
Exactly one hundred years ago, it was a modest, nameless village, home to a community of native demi-humans. At that time, a group of settlers from the continents beyond had discovered El Nido. They had sailed in from the mainland of Zenan and colonized the central continent. The native demi-humans had resisted furiously in a conflict that quickly wore out, for they lacked the sophisticated weaponry and the desire to slaughter. The native settlers were eventually driven off the land that had little room for their existence and settled at the northeastern isle Guldove, and the southwestern isle Marbule.
That which was bane to one race was boon to another. The royal Viper clan had established the Acacia Dragoons as its military force that swore upon the responsibility of El Nido's well-being and prosperity. The Viper rulers and its Dragoons had led fairly and had led well. They had envisaged bringing the world to El Nido and through this vision the port town of Termina was born. They foresaw the needs of their children and set up schools to educate the young. They had institutionalized law and order and mete out swift punishments to him who committed crimes of gravity. They had seen the needs of the fellow beings in Arni and offered unconditional aid in times of nature's wrath. Over the century, man on the central continent lived peacefully while the modest, nameless village developed into the thriving port town today.
Exactly one hundred years later, in just two weeks from today, the Terminians would be joyfully celebrating their hundredth anniversary. Except Serge, who stood rooted at Termina's entrance, stunned by what his eyes saw.
"But this can't be," mumbled Serge, his eyes staring blankly into Termina. "This can't be true. The past" -- he paused -- "My past, my mom, my village and my whole life... they don't exist anymore."
"Serge..." said Leena, who found no words of consolation for her friend.
Serge closed his eyes, took a deep breath then exhaled laboriously. "You know, Leena? I keeping thinking that the water that crawled up to me and the world that transformed is but a plot. B-But it's not. A plot doesn't make sense. I'm only a village boy. Why would the Dragoons disappear for three years and then reappear again just to tease a village boy? Everything's gone. Everyone's gone. It's the truth. But... It's one that is difficult for me to swallow."
Serge drew a deep breath.
"On the other hand, I am sure you find my version of the truth equally tough to chew on," Serge concluded.
Serge turned to Leena and studied her reaction.
"I don't know, Serge," said Leena slowly, picking her words carefully. This moment, she knew was on the right side of her swinging rhythm. "Honestly, part of me believes in you. The other part of me wants to believe you. Look at all these, Serge. Termina is in a festive mood, in celebration of the Dragoons. The Dragoons are here; they have never left."
Indeed, Termina was in the mood for festivities. In preparation for the coming anniversary, the entire town had been decorated with garlands and potted plants that brought to life the white walls of stone unique to Termina. Stalls of games, fortunetelling, acrobatic performances and scrumptious food littered the town; displays of exotic mermaids to those of the talented paintbrush artists stood out from the alleys. People squeezed, wriggled past the crowds of more people like ants that amassed, climbed over each other in its colony of fellow ants. The dissonance of bagpipes, flutes, tambourines, drums and other instruments was a statement, an orchestrated harmony that spoke and set the tone of the merriment in the forthcoming days.
"Welcome to Termina's 100th Anniversary," said the banner that hung Termina's entrance, and also said Serge softly.
"And the last anniversary Termina celebrated was its ninety seventh," lamented Serge resignedly.
Those distant eyes of Serge that sought home could not be lying, yet only half of Serge's spoken words agreed with visual truth. Leena found the scale swinging back and forth like the pendulum of a clock. Belief and disbelief struggled to tip each other over with more weights of reasoning, and more of evidence. But each weight that stacked above another threatened to destabilize the scale, just as each thought that added upon another threatened to rob her sanity. She decided to stop thinking, and decided to fulfill her promise that she made to herself last evening, a promise that was to see Serge through his task.
"Serge," said Leena with hand on Serge's shoulder, "since we are here, we might as well enjoy ourselves. People say that the truth of a matter is defined by the number of people who believe in it. But I say the real truth exists in our own hearts. And these truths cannot exist if our lives don't. So let's go in and get ourselves a life, while we scout around for information."
Serge turned to her with a smile on his face. "The truth is: you haven't changed much."
Leena found her head spinning not from the scorching heat but from seeing that Serge had finally smiled. He had been frowning so much that there shone little brilliance in his eyes of blue. His sagging shoulders, consistent contemplation and lamenting of the worst of scenarios had claimed his youth and roughened his features. When his lips smiled, she found her heart gripped with a joy that clogged her nose and stiffened her throat. When his eyes smiled, she found her own misted with tears that was but a small price to pay for a wonderful moment such as now. This instance, she desired to raise her fists and scream her achievement to the whole town of Termina, but she thought better of it.
"Hee-hee. So what do you say?" Leena returned the smile and a pat on his shoulder.
Serge pondered for a moment. "You are right," he agreed with a nod. "Let's enter and see what we can find."
The midday sun raged furiously onto Termina. A rare, modest wisp of cloud hung motionless beneath the naked blue sky, far to the west, far from the sun's fiery rays. The streets burned under the sun's heat and its temperature was made to rise by the crowd that had packed tightly into the streets.
Stall holders waved, stood on chairs, tables and screeched with voices feverish with enthusiasm. Customers fanned themselves furiously whilst watching their favorite stunts and exotic exhibits and dimwitted Beachbums. Children holding sticks of candy struggled through the crowd while they got themselves squeezed against many others' bottoms. And on where the tall crowds did not gather, the young did, engrossed in their chatter and prattle and games of hopscotch, undaunted by the blistering heat.
A flower stall and its stock of lilies, tulips, roses and an assortment of others caught Leena's eye. The blend of fragrance was so much more irresistible than her own tinge of jasmine that she darted to the colorful flora like a bee that flew to flowers' nectar.
Serge accompanied quite reluctantly, Leena noticed.
At the stall, a young, suave knight stood beside Leena. He donned shining armor of red over a leather tunic of dark brown. His weapon was a sword on a belt buckled round his waist and his defense, a shield on his left arm. He had neatly trimmed hair of silver white that did not make him look old but orderly and honest. His eyes were of emerald green, alert, serious but unapproachable. He wore a solemn, expressionless face much like that of Serge, except the knight exuded an additional aura of righteousness and chivalry that was emphasized by his Dragoon uniform.
"Ma'am, I would like to purchase a bouquet of bellflowers," said the young knight, who stood staunchly before the flower stall lady as if she were his commander.
"Sorry, I'm totally out of bellflowers," the lady replied warmly but regretfully. "I'll get some in a few days, so come back again then. By the way, I haven't seen Karsh around here lately. What is he doing?"
Leena turned to Serge, who was already looking at her as if looking for an answer. She saw his mind through his eyes, and saw him questioning the possibility of "Karsh" being the same Dragoon who sought to apprehend him last evening. In silent agreement, they both turned back to continue their browse and selection while they listened intently to the conversation that was about to follow.
"Well, he said he was going ghost-hunting down south," the knight replied truthfully. "I'm just a private, so I do not know for certain, but I heard a rumor that General Viper ordered him to go."
"A ghost?" the lady exclaimed. "Now that is something. I just hope it's not a sign of a coming disaster."
Leena stole a glimpse at Serge to observe his reaction at the spoken confirmation. She saw in his controlled grimace a hint of how the word "ghost" carried a certain nuance that troubled his mind just as it ached in her heart and numbed her arms. She imagined the confusion that ran through his mind, that which she could not understand. She was at a loss of what ought to done -- to offer a word of console, to strongly support his search for answers, or to drag him away from the questions and flee to where no one troubled him.
"If you ever see him, give him my regards," the lady said.
"I will do that," replied the knight. "And I will be back, too." The knight then took his leave.
"God, you're slow!" said a boisterous voice of an exasperated lady. "You made me wait forever!"
Leena stole a peek over Serge's shoulders to see a young lady dressed in skimpy red, as if she were not dressed. A garment of white cotton hugged closely her well-endowed assets but left her well-toned waist in full view. A red skirt wrapped her pelvic but exposed her well-built legs from thighs to feet. This lady of bold dressing tried to look innocent and dainty by gently stroking and fiddling her blonde ponytail, but her motions were awkward and stiff as if she were a man.
"Making a lovely lady like--" the young lady feigned with a heavy accent.
Just as Leena wondered who this lady was, the lady focused her eyes on Leena and studied her from head to toe. She shed the girlish act and folded her arms across her chest.
"So that's it," the young lady said. "I get it! This Sheila over here is your sweetie, eh? I'm right, ain't I?"
"No!" Leena and Serge replied in unison.
"No need to be shy!" Kid teased at the top of her voice. "I'm not so bold as to break up a lover's tender moments. I'm understanding."
Serge shook his head and heaved a sigh of exasperation.
"I'll wait till your little date is over," the young lady said, as she gave a hard slap at Serge's shoulder, at which he grimaced. "Well then, have a bloody good time!"
Kid winked at Leena and gave the thumbs-up before walking away, all smiles on her face.
"Who's she?" asked Leena.
"It's Kid," Serge replied truthfully.
"And do you know her?"
"We met when I faced Karsh and his guards alone. She... sort of saved me."
Serge blushed. Leena stared in amazement and delight at his boyish features that was a healthy, rosy red. She struggled to restrain herself from rubbing and pinching those cheeks as she would to her oversized pet dog and her cuddly toys. She saw that those eyes of sorrow and resignation had given way to eyes of guilt and anxiousness that spoke of feelings of the heart.
"Sort of? You do mean she saved you, don't you?" Leena teased cheekily. "And, wow, she looks rather cute for your heroine, don't you think?"
"Cute?" Serge acted sickened. "That? Is cute?"
"You should be at least grateful to her for saving you."
"That's a different matter altogether."
"You'd better not let her hear that," Leena warned Serge with a wink. "I have a gut feeling she will dice you up if she did."
"Perhaps not. She will just gleefully kick me hard till I'll kiss the moons," Serge mumbled.
"What's that?"
"Nothing."
"So what do you intend to do now, Serge?"
"Let's just walk around."
"Okay!" she exclaimed.
Leena walked alongside Serge as she drowned herself in the festive colors of the town. Even her perfect dressing of striking red and blue seemed to match the mood of the carnival and the color of the canvas tents. Had there been enough space she would hop around the streets as if it were her dance floor. Yet, the jostling crowd of sweaty women and foul-odor men failed to dent her spirits, for the presence of people was to her the presence of life and vivacity. Every stall attracted her with their sweet smelling goodies and glittering souvenirs and would have earned itself another browsing customer if not for the important task she had at hand.
They reached the town square where the streets merged on the highest elevated part of the town that overlooked the sea in the north. The square was an open space, for the lines of stalls had ended where the streets did. Pigeons flocked to and gathered around an aged man for their afternoon meals. Families enjoyed an afternoon picnic under the shade of umbrellas setup around the square. A bronze statue of a gallant figure graced the center of the square, its polished surface glittering in the scorching afternoon sun. A circular fountain of exquisite design adorned its sides and protected the statue like the moat that defended a royal castle.
Kid stood before the statue, her eyes fixed upon it, her left hand at her hip. Leena and Serge walked up to her sides and stared at the statue of brilliant copper bronze.
"This is General Viper, Serge," said Kid without turning her head, as if she had been waiting for Leena and Serge. "He's the leader of the Acacia Dragoons. He's your target and mine, too."
"I heard that he was the one who ordered my arrest," said Serge.
"You never know, Serge," said Kid. "Look, I've done my homework. General Viper resides in Viper Manor, just east of this town. It's known to be an impregnable fortress that supposedly incorporates its surrounding terrain to its advantage."
Kid sneered. "Rumor has it that the manor will be holding a garden party in two weeks time in celebration of the hundredth anniversary. That would be the best time for us to 'seek an audience' with Viper. But others say the Dragoons may be packing and going. Don't know about you, but I figured I can't take chances. So I intend to pay this bloke a visit tonight."
"Oh yes. I am sure that if you walk right up to the manor's gates, the guards will be happy to keep you entertained for the night," ridiculed Serge.
"That is why I'm not going to, mate," said Kid proudly. She wrapped her arms around Leena's and Serge's back and then whispered. "We will sneak into Viper Manor."
"What?" Serge startled.
"Sneak in?" Leena gasped.
"Shhh!" Kid hushed in exasperation, pressing fingers to Serge's and Leena's lips. "I've got some business there as well. So let's sneak in together. How about it? You are going to find out what the Dragoons are up to, right? And why was that Karsh bloke trying to capture you?"
"But--" said Leena.
"But how are we going to get in?" interrupted Serge.
"We'll have to find a way to the manor first," Kid said confidently. "I've heard that Viper Manor is a bloody huge place, so once we're there, breaking in will be easy."
"How well do you know the interiors?" Serge asked.
"I will know it well when we get there."
"That is comforting," Serge mocked.
"Either you trust me, Serge, or you don't," Kid laid the cards.
"What do you say, Serge?" Leena asked nervously. Breaking the nose of a comedian soldier was a joke that could be shrugged off easily. But breaking into the fortified headquarters of the military was of such crime of magnitude that it would land them in prison, if they were caught. The thought of dying on the rope was not nearly as terrifying as the living her life behind bars. The thought of daily meals of cold porridge served in dirty tin bowls left her shuddering and swallowing hard.
Serge pondered for a moment. "I'll go," he decided firmly. "But this is my problem, so I'll go alone. Breaking in is a serious--"
"God, give me a break!" yelled Kid into his ears. "You? Alone?" She studied him head to toe then back.
"Kid's right, Serge. You can't go alone." Leena drew a deep breath and decided again with her instincts. "I'll go, too. With the three of us, we can help each other."
"Or get us all into trouble," Serge said with disdainful eyes fixed on Kid.
"Hey! I resent that," said Leena, hands on her hips.
"I don't mean you, Leena," clarified Serge, his eyes still on Kid.
"But three minds work better than one. And I'm going with you, Serge, Kid."
"Oi! Oi!" Kid roared. "No worries. Leave the operations and planning to me, you hear? Follow my cue and you blokes will leave the place without a scratch, I promise."
Kid was assuring, composed, in control of the situation and was all that Leena hoped to be but wasn't. Kid seemed to know what she was doing as if she were experienced with break-ins of such outrageous scale. Where she came from or who she was Leena didn't know and, perhaps, didn't want to know. Kid's confidence of speech and of actions gave Leena encouragement and a certain peace in her mind. Yet, Leena found her heart, which had led her to follow Serge, beating in her mouth as if it were drumming in protest against her actions, for the mission to see Serge through his journey was about to end with the committing of grave felony. No, she insisted. It was no drums of protest, but drums of war cries, a demonstration of eagerness and resolve with which she would carry till the journey ended, her promise fulfilled.
"That's settled, then, mates!" Kid said with pats on both her mates' shoulders. "Come on. Let's find ourselves some chow. I'm bloody hungry!"
Heat baked the interiors of the Termina Bar just as it grilled the streets outside. Yet, the Termina Bar accounted for the footrest for tens of thousands of visitors at the turn of every moon, at the end of close of every ledger. Located fittingly along a street near the port, the tavern was a necessary stop to those who waited for the next ferry to the mainland continents beyond or the El Nido isles. It offered the finest collection of wines imported from the mainland of Zenan and a wide range of vintages to the paying customers. Among its well-known dishes was the Squid Gut Pasta, a delicacy of flour pasta and boiled squids, a delicacy whose draw lie in its mouth-watering sauce. It was a delight, an addiction to the man on the streets and the aristocrats alike.
The bar, long and rectangular, was furnished with brown-tiled bricks and two expensive chandeliers. Burning torches built into the alcoves that were sealed behind brown metal grilles added an overall enigmatic feel to the bar. Tables were of elegant cream, long and round at the corners. No seats, however, filled the room around the tables and customers were made to stand for their meals and drinks. The first generations of operators and chefs had unanimously and stubbornly refused to install seats, eccentrically insisting that food tasted better this way. Customers never complained, for the good food lived up to its name around town.
The group of three shared an already crowded table with few other Terminians who were griping about their latest woes.
"I've been fired from my job," lamented one in a drunken stupor. "And I am really strapped for cash."
"That sounds bad," said a second. "What are your plans for the future?"
"I seek an alternative livelihood now. Have you heard of this thing called the Frozen Flame?"
"The Frozen Flame? Yes, I've heard of it," the second took a sip.
"The Frozen Flame is the treasure of all treasures," the first man proudly said. "It is said that even the notorious thieves Radical Dreamers are after it, but that thing is mine."
"You don't think that the Frozen Flame is some kind of jewel or something, do you? I've heard this Flame exists only in legends."
"Of course it exists! How otherwise could the legends have come about, I ask you? One day, I'll get my hands on it and become the richest man in the universe."
"Things aren't that easy, I'm sure. It's probably a beast of hellish design, a dragon of sorts, I say. Once you gaze at it, boom! You are well-done like a steak on a barbecue."
"You're just being sissy. I will find it, you see. That is my Terminian Dream!"
"You are free to dream, my friend. But daily's work is always best. Nothing beats hard work and dedication."
"Bah! Such are the impressions ours rulers would want from you, such are the leashes of our citizens at which I scowl! What 'contribution' to our prosperous economy? What 'patriotism' to our beloved hometown? You can be contented with your hard work, my friend, while your rulers feed off your bloody taxes! In the meantime, I shall seek the Flame, and from rags I shall become riches! One more toast to my bright future!"
The Frozen Flame was a treasure that indeed existed only in legends. On the one hand, it was known as a priceless treasure among treasure hunters and adventurers who sought to earn a quick fortune. On the other, it was touted as a source of evil which should not be touched or awaken. The profit-minded seized on such hunger for its knowledge and its possession and horded such items in the black market, claiming them to be the one true Frozen Flame, when, in reality, no one had seen how it looked like.
Those who had been making themselves heard of their designs on the Frozen Flame were this organization of thieves known affectionately as, "the Radical Dreamers." They were infamous in the mainland of Zenan, targeting upper-classes riches, especially those of crooked organizations and corrupt governments. Churches, temples and charitable organizations would often find themselves rich overnight with loot, of which they distributed to the needy.
In such age of corruption and darkness on the mainland of Zenan, the Radical Dreamers were said to be a spot of brightness that gave the people hope and inspired them to live. They appeared to have garnered themselves a cult following and an underground army that extended its far reaching factions into the hearts of civilizations.
And rumor had surfaced that the Radical Dreamers were on their way to El Nido.
"Big talkers," scoffed Kid loudly, but she failed to draw their attention.
"At the very least, they don't talk as loud as you," mumbled Serge.
"What was that?" roared Kid.
Serge pretended not to listen. Leena cupped her mouth and smiled.
"So, lunch?" asked Leena, controlling her laughter.
"Oh yes! Of course, mate!" Kid agreed.
"Squid Gut Pasta!" suggested Leena, who, at the mention of food, had momentarily forgotten the guilt of crime that pounded at her heart. "It's been a while since I tried it."
"Fine with me," Kid agreed. "It's been hell of a while since I tried anything good."
"How about you, Serge?" asked Leena.
"I have the same, too. I should have some cash," said Serge.
"Well, mate?" Kid said to Serge as she hit her hand hard onto Serge's shoulders with a tight slap.
Serge grimaced as Leena held back her laughter.
"What are you waiting for?" Kid asked.
"What?" Serge said irritably.
"Come on!" Kid cried out and slapped Serge on his shoulder again. "You're not expecting us ladies to get the order, are you?"
"Oh!" Serge said obediently, and immediately left for the counter to place the orders.
"God!" Kid cried, raising her hand to her forehead, as if coping with a bad headache. "How do you say it here in El Nido? He has Beachbums in his head?"
"That's 'he grows a Beachbum as his head.'" Leena giggled. "You must come from mainland. Even your accent is different."
"You can tell, can't you?" replied Kid as she reached across the table, picked up a toothpick and began to chew at it. "You? Where's your home on El Nido?"
"Arni," Leena said with a smile.
"What's your name? That Beachbum mate of mine never introduced."
"That's Leena."
"Aw, that's a sweet name," Kid said with the toothpick stuck between her teeth.
"And you are Kid. I heard you saved Serge yesterday."
Kid grunted. "I guess your sugar boy tells you everything." She held her tummy and burst into laughter.
"For the umpteenth time, he's not my boy or my boyfriend," insisted Leena, exasperated. "I only knew him yesterday."
"Not your sugar boy?" Kid was surprised. "Then why in the bloody hell are you accompanying him around?"
"Hmm, do I sense jealousy?" Leena teased.
"I ain't jealous of nothing! Why should I be?"
"Oh really?" Leena tried to pry, but Kid's teenage expression told nothing of what she thought, as if she were an old woman who had been through too much, who was too fatigued by the upsets in life. Even those eyes of gentle pearl blue shed no light on her mind, for they looked too seasoned and too exhausted.
"I say I ain't, I mean I ain't. You haven't answered my question. Why are you following him?"
"He looks lost." Leena turned serious and honest. "To tell you the truth, it seems that I have known him for a long time now. I can't say why, but it's a strange feeling."
"Yes, I feel that, too."
"Oh, you, too? Then... Then, does it feel as if you worry for him, you are concerned about his well-being, and you'd like to know what he is thinking at times, as if he were a long-time friend of yours, an old acquaintance? To me, it seems that way; that I've a lot I want to say to him, to make him feel better, even though I can't really put it into words well." -- Leena giggled, embarrassed at her own poor communication skills. -- "But... even if I talk, he's not the kind who responds a lot, you know? Hee-hee. But do you feel like I do?"
"Yes, that's pretty much it," Kid nodded. "I'm quite sure I've seen him before. Somewhere. I can't remember where for the hell of me, but you know, it's that feeling. It's not what they call déjà vu, well, maybe it is. But it's like this thing that boils up inside me chest when I see him."
"Then, you admit it is strange, huh? That stirring feeling in your heart. It's as if he is who he claims to be, the ghost -- I mean, the boy who lived as my neighbor ten years ago."
"Yes. It's does feel kind of strange."
"We are on the same boat, aren't we?" Leena said, smiling.
She was delighted to share her thoughts with Kid and to know that Kid felt the same way as she did, even it were for a reason unknown. Her heart was suddenly relieved of a burden she had not noticed was weighing on, her mind suddenly set free from a cage she had not seen was locked within. She heaved a sigh and felt a breezeless wave of cool sweep through her skin and refresh her face. She felt as if she found a confidante to whom she could openly speak, for whom she began to hold admiration. She felt as if she had found an elder sister.
"You won't want to be in mine, Leena," Kid said wistfully.
Serge just returned from the counter, orders placed. "Lunch will be ready in a while," he reported.
"Got it," said Kid, as she chewed her toothpick and examined everything she could find on the tabletop.
"What were you both talking about?" Serge asked.
"Oi! It's girls' talk and none of your business!" Kid shouted.
"Fine, I don't want to know," Serge said in frustration.
Serge turned from Kid to Leena and shook his head in disgust. Irked by the two bitter friends who seemed constantly at loggerheads, Leena shook her own in surrender.
The Holy Sword Einlanzer stood alone in a wide open space, wedged into the barren sands near the outskirts of Termina. The sands received a streak of illumination from the sword's blade blade, a glaring focus of the sun's blaze that reflected off its polished surface. Its hilt of white had been designed, crafted by a skilled Dragonian of an age long past. As if of a design magical, it was a sword whose hilt fitted itself into the hands of the bearer should he be deemed worthy of wielding it, or whose hilt's edges dug into the bearer's flesh should he be deemed otherwise.
Indeed, the Einlanzer was wielded by the purest of hearts and the best of fighters in the Acacia Dragoons who were knighted as the Grandmasters. Since the inception of the Acacia Dragoons and the discovery of this ancient sword, the Einlanzer lived alongside fourteen masters, the last of which were Garai, the thirteenth Grandmaster, and Dario, the last. Today, the Einlanzer served as a memorial for these two valiant warriors who passed away on separate occasions in their line of duty.
A young lady stood faithfully before the sword, her hands held gracefully together in prayer, her head low in mourning. Her hair of violet, silky and shiny in the midday sun flowed smoothly over her shoulders as if it wrapped and caressed them lovingly. She donned an elegant gown of white, sewn on which were beautifully crafted, gold embroidery. The gown that had been specially tailored for formal occasions was of close and comfortable fit that accentuated her young, womanly curves. She crowned a crafted tiara of diamonds and gold that spoke of her ancestry as the member of the Viper family. Even without it, her graceful mannerisms were alone evidence of royal upbringing.
Glenn donned the knights' armor of red over a dark brown leather tunic. As he walked towards Lady Riddel, his sword clanked against his armor and his boots rang in the respectful silence of the open-air shrine. Lady Riddel looked up from her silent prayers and then looked at his empty hands.
"So, she was out of bellflowers," Lady Riddel said disappointedly. "That is unfortunate. Then let us pray without any bellflowers for today."
Glenn found his place beside Lady Riddel and lowered his head.
"Father. Brother," Glenn mourned, his face stone cold.
Glenn's father, Garai had been a well-respected figure in the higher-ranks of the Acacia Dragoons and well-adored even by his subordinates, even after his death. He was remembered for his contributions to the Dragoons' effort in the Guardia-Porre War some fifteen years ago. But twelve years ago, Garai passed away in the line of duty and the reason of his death remained a mystery till today.
Dario loved bellflowers while he was alive. He had loved them as much as Lady Riddel did, and as much as he loved her. Three years ago, Dario had proposed to Lady Riddel. After they had received the blessings of General Viper, Riddel's father, they were engaged in matrimony, an event that whole of Termina had taken to the streets in celebrations. Soon after, Dario left on an expedition with a fellow Deva, Karsh, to the Isle of the Damned, an expedition that was doomed to be his last. The celebrations on the streets had become a funeral, and gaiety had turned to mourning.
Glenn lost his brother, his only kin left in this world.
Each day that passed was a struggle against his own self, a struggle against the expectations of others who demanded a Grandmaster caliber of him but saw none of it. Each day that passed he wished his brother were still around to advice, to console and offer a listening ear to the sorrows that had none to speak to. Alas, it had been three years since his brother rested peacefully under the Holy Einlanzer, just as he lived under the shadows of his brother.
"It is such a mystery," said Lady Riddel. "This sword never rusts. It's seems as if the souls of its masters live within it. Do you not think so, Glenn?"
"Yes. I have engraved in my memory the lives of my father and brother, who had wielded the sacred sword Einlanzer."
"Let us hope that is true."
"What do you mean by that?" Glenn turned to Lady Riddel, startled. "Lady Riddel, I cannot allow even you to--"
"Do you think there is something odd about the Dragoons of late?" Lady Riddel asked. "Daddy's face shows anguish, and even Karsh was saying he was sent on a 'ghost hunt.'"
"Lady Riddel--"
"Everyone has been acting oddly," Riddel said concernedly, "ever since that beastly guest arrived in the manor three years ago."
"You must speak to the general again."
"Glenn, have you not seen what I have been doing for the past three years?" asked Riddel as she turned to Glenn, her eyes grieving. "I have not even the time to mourn Dario's death," she said forlornly. "I have tried everything in my means to convince Daddy that this beast harbors ill intentions. But I know this beast has put Daddy under enchantment, for he listens to him but not to me. And Daddy now makes his own decisions without even consulting the Council of Devas."
A moment of silence fell. Only the noises of celebrations from the distant streets could be heard.
"I know not of what this beast schemes," Lady Riddel continued, "but I fear the worst."
"The Dragoons set off for an expedition in two days," reminded Glenn.
"I am aware of the massive deployment to Fort Dragonia. But who will remain to defend Viper Manor if the Dragoons have all left? I know many Dragoons share the same fears as I do. They speak of them on their faces if not through their lips. But no one dare question Daddy's orders.
"I understand... I understand that the Dragoons wish of me to speak up for them. Tonight. Tonight, I shall try again to dissuade Daddy from this course of action. And I shall keep trying until he gives in."
Lady Riddel lowered her head and closed her eyes. Glenn saw her shoulders sag, for he understood she had obligatorily carried the weight of the Dragoon's fates on them, even if she it was not her responsibility. He heard her breathe heavily, as if she chased relentlessly a goal that was too far to reach in time. If Dario were around, he would offer a gentle word of console, an enlightening word of advice, at either of which Lady Riddel's eyes would shine with dreams and hope. Dario would offer his broad shoulders on which she her head could rest on, and his chest in which she could seek shelter. All Glenn could do was to stand on his feet and watch her suffer silently.
"Glenn," said Riddel as she looked up, "promise me to always keep the unclouded truth in sight. Do not be swayed by the masses. The splendor of the Einlanzer must not be tarnished."
Glenn fell silent as his thoughts began to wander like frantic soldiers in his mind as if each ran from war and sought safe grounds on which their weary feet could rest. He constructed a path in his mind and forced the thoughts to flow in a straight, logical line, but he found them disobedient, refusing to accept his orders. He tried to control them like he controlled his section during mock exercises, but he failed as he did in real life.
The assignments had been released this morning. Unlike his fellow buddies who received theirs via the section leader, he received his in a parchment sealed with the Acacia royal seal. Without lifting a finger or saying a word, he had earned the jealousy and contempt of his section mates and section leader, who were now convinced he pulled strings through the Lady, if they were not before. While his section mates complained of having to march through forests, squeeze on board the military vessel with many sweaty others and spend long hours guarding the fort, Glenn's orders were to escort the beautiful Lady Riddel into Fort Dragonia on her private sailboat, along with her chambermaids.
Could he be seen as doing his rightful job and not be seen as winning Lady Riddel's heart or pulling strings because Dario was Lady Riddel's prince and Glenn was the Lady's brother-in-law? Could escorting Lady Riddel to Fort Dragonia be considered being swayed by the masses, or not? Glenn found no answer within his unrestrained army of thoughts.
"We shall speak of this again tomorrow, Glenn," said Lady Riddel. "I may have need your assistance, then."
"As you wish," said Glenn respectfully.
As they took their leave, a group of three youths in their teens walked towards them. A young boy with a large swallow in hand and two young ladies, one of whom dressed so boldly Glenn was loathe to look but had to keep his eyes straight, for that boy held a weapon that could prove dangerous to the Lady's life. Lady Riddel smiled at them and they returned the smile respectfully.
The wisp of cloud in the afternoon sky had dissipated and left behind a pale blue whose rightful brilliant azure had been stolen by that of the sun. A crane of chaste white drifted from the east in graceful, humble flight even if it were reigning queen of the skies. Crows flocked in from the western skies and descended in altitude as if they descended in reverence for the single white female. As one flew over the others, the shadows of the crows blotted out the sun intermittently, as if even the sun blinked its eye upon the crane's passing. Yet, the ground that refused to stop burning chewed through one's shoes and glared pain into one's eyes. As the air continued to boil in outrageous heat, the stone town wavered in its own mirage, as if its walls were about the crumble to the invisible, fevered enemy.
The long, unfruitful investigation under the raging heat ended at the outskirts of Termina. The threesome found themselves at an open area commonly known as the Termina Shrine, named in respect and remembrance for the valiant soldiers of the Acacia Dragoons who lost their lives in the line of duty. The shrine had no roofs for shelter and no altars for offerings, only a holy sword wedged at the center of the open field of barren sand. Although the town was in celebrations, the sacred shrine remained hauntingly silent and gave one a chilly tingle on the skin, as if those who had passed on still lingered around.
The fine-looking knight in red they saw at the flower stall earlier on walked towards them. Leena smiled at him but he remained cold and unfriendly. A refined lady of royal elegance smiled gently at them three and they smiled respectfully at her who wore the crown of the daughter of General Viper, even if her father had ordered Serge's capture. When they brushed past, Leena, Serge and Kid turned and watch them leave until they disappeared into the western trails beyond the town outskirts. Kid then walked to the sword, bent down and inspected its craft of fine design.
"Fine piece of work, ain't it?" she said as she fingered the sword's blade. "That Lady Riddel."
"But of course. She's the daughter of General Viper, the princess of El Nido. The likes of you now will never make one, not in this life," said Serge with sarcasm. "In your previous, perhaps."
Kid furrowed. "And you will never make a king even if you had the nine lives of a cat!" she said as she examined the words cut into the sword's blade.
"So? What does it say?" asked Serge disinterestedly.
"Why don't you come over and read it for yourself?" retorted Kid.
"Enough! The two of you!" roared Leena as she fanned herself in the heat. "Ever since we left the tavern, the two of you have been bickering from ten streets down non-stop. Aren't the two of you tired? Grow up already!"
Serge and Kid gaped at Leena.
"Curse this weather that is hot enough! We don't need the two of you add to that!" Leena barked. She continued to fan herself furiously as she looked up into the fiery sky and ignored her two new friends momentarily. The heat licked her skin and the heated argument made her as irritable as she her younger brother's foul mouth did. The sky was spotless, flawless and a sheet of angel white when the weather was bearable. Now, the sky was like the burning flames of hell, as if hell had turned itself upside down and heaven was lost within the earth.
"Oi! Chill," said Kid as she stood her feet.
"Under the hot sun?" Leena flashed a stiff grin that startled them both. "I think not!"
"What in Zeus's name is the matter with you?" asked Kid. "Running a temperature?"
"With the 'heat' between the both of you, yes," Leena replied.
"Are you all right, Leena?" asked Serge concernedly. "Will you need a rest?"
Leena heaved a sigh in surrender. "Let me ask the two of you. We're a team, are we not? A team works together, not fight each other. You breathe, I breathe. If you fall, how can I stand? So, why don't we end our differences here and start behaving like a team, for good riddance's sake!"
Kid drew a deep breath. Serge turned away from her in silence.
For a moment, Leena felt she was in control. She felt as if she were a leader who led her friends down an unfamiliar trail in the woods, a leader who was frightened but showed none of it on her face. She knew she was not to bring them down a trail that would fork and divide them, their spirits and their goals they had set out to accomplish as one. Instead, she would take them down a trail that narrowed and focused on their objective. And she would take them a path that brought their hearts together, for she saw between them sparks of emotion that electrified the air; not emotions of anger, but that of passion.
"Then again," said Leena softly after she composed herself. "The two of you look really cute when you argue. I think you are really made for each other."
"What?" yelled Serge and Kid.
"Hey!" shouted a voice from afar.
A river at the far edge of the shrine marked the boundary of the port town of Termina. The river forked into two; one streamed into Termina over which the town bridges of white arched defiantly; the other streamed off the central continent into the ocean in the north. It had become a dock to ferrymen who were always eager to taxi rare customers to their destination of choice for a good sum of money. The commotion between the threesome had caught the attention of one ferryman who now walked over them. He was skinny, tanned, dressed in light clothing and looked as exhausted as he looked hard up for business.
"Hey! You're a tourist, right?" the ferryman yelped. "The festival's a waste of time. I'm here from the northeastern isle of Guldove working as a ferryman. How would you like to visit other parts of El Nido instead? I can take you anywhere you like with this boat. I take money, but don't worry, it's not that much. My boating skills are quite famous around here, I guarantee a comfortable ride."
"No, thank you very much," Serge replied.
"Are you sure you don't want a ride? There's nothing in Termina worth looking at, nothing but stone walls, nothing but crowds of stinky man and women. How about visiting Guldove? It's a quiet scenic getaway of traditional cultures and--"
"No," Serge insisted politely, "we aren't exactly here--"
"Hold your sea horses!" Kid interrupted as she walked to the ferryman. "We want to get to Viper Manor. Can you take us there?"
The ferryman turned suspicious. "Viper Manor? What are you going to do up in that place? Steal treasure from the vaults or something?"
"Don't go snooping into your customers' privacy," Kid snapped angrily and pointed a finger at the ferryman. "Are you going take us there or not?"
"As long as you pay me," the ferryman said nonchalantly. "I'll take you wherever you want."
"What's the rate?"
"A hundred gold pieces."
Kid pondered for a moment, then raised her hand in gesture, five fingers spread wide. "Fifty. This evening in three hours."
"Fifty? I have to make a living!" the ferryman protested.
"Fifty."
The ferryman grouched. "Okay, eighty!"
"Sixty!" Kid insisted. "Last call. Take it or we'll call on your other ferryman friends."
The ferryman murmured unintelligibly under his breath. "Alright!" he finally agreed reluctantly. "I give it to you for sixty. What an unlucky day! I'll wait for you folks here in three hours' time."
The ferryman stomped away reluctantly.
For that moment, Leena felt the control slips from her hands like sands that slipped through one's fingers. The way Kid carried herself confidently and the way Kid spoke impressed upon her. In that negotiation, Leena saw how Kid pick out weaknesses she could not, and how Kid turn deals into bargains and bargains into gifts. She found that the instincts of a leader had departed from her spirit, and Kid took over that role once more. Leena sighed, resigned to the fact that there was no way she could be like the sister she so admired.
"So, with some luck, we've got ourselves a trip to the manor!" Kid announced proudly. "With more, we should be able to scale the cliff behind the manor."
"With more luck?" interrupted Serge.
"Do you have a freaking problem with that?" snapped Kid.
Serge stole a glimpse at Leena then shook his head submissively.
"But that'll have wait till the sun sets," Kid continued. "Until then we've got a little time on our hands to burn. I say we go to--"
"How about an inn?" suggested Serge.
"An inn?" asked Kid. "What for?"
"Didn't you even listen? Leena just said she was running a temperature. I think she will need a good rest."
Kid raised brows in surprise. Leena chuckled at Serge's silliness.
The four walls of untainted white broadened the expanse of an already spacious lobby as if it reached many miles wide. The windows of silver framing and clear glass were but touches of decoration of simple, elegant design. Even furious rays of the sun became streams of appeased warmth that blended with the architecture that was as smart as it was exquisite. Simple, festive garlands hung from every pillar of the lobby, just as well-groomed plants adorned the four sides of each. Sand brown benches of minimal design lined against the walls and between the pillars for the resting tavern customer. A grandfather clock set against the lobby's corner began to chime to the start of the hour, just as the threesome entered into the spacious hall.
"Welcome to Termina Inn!" the lady greeted politely when they entered the inn's reception area.
The three made their way towards a modest reception desk of pinewood, behind which the friendly lady owner of the inn sat. The table was tidy with only the register of guests placed neatly before her. She looked up and smiled at her customers warmly.
"A room for three!" Kid said boisterously.
"Will do!" the lady said as she began writing furiously into her register.
Kid pondered for a moment then turned back to look at Serge and Leena. "Or do we need two? Huh, mate?" she poked Serge in his chest.
"Oh! I'd love to!" Serge responded quickly. Turning to the owner, he added, "Give us two rooms, please."
"No, we'll just take one!" Leena quickly interrupted, shaking her head at the stubbornness of her two friends who were still far from teammates.
The inn lady only smiled at the two and said nothing to the war of words. As soon as she finished the paperwork, she handed over the keys to Kid. "Enjoy your stay. And please inform me if you need anything," she said politely.
"Thank you!" said Leena.
The three walked up the stairs, to their room door, unlocked it and walked into the room. Leena and Serge followed.
Three beds of comfortable white sheets greeted them. Leena slouched in relief, glad to see rest waiting for her taking. She took a deep breath and forgot about the stifling heat that still stung her skin, and forgot about the perilous mission this evening, for the cozy beds had bound her instantly under a spell of sleep. She dove into the middle bed and groaned in pleasure as the cool sheets washed over her like the water that flushed her body and spirit when she dove into the sea. She rolled left and right and giggled in delight, contented to be lost in her own angelic world, as if she were the angel in heaven.
Kid went to the rightmost bed, snuggled into it, pulled up the sheets and fell asleep almost immediately, with snores horrendously loud they could bring the roof down. Leena sat up, jolted by the new discovery that made her gape at Kid in amazement. Serge, he shook his head, sighed in surrender and snuggled into the last bed. He lied down, pulled the sheets over him and faced the ceiling with his eyes wide open, hands under his head.
Leena slumped back down onto the bed lazily, her head sinking comfortably into the soft pillow. She wore a smile of relief as she stared up into the plain yet beautiful ceiling.
"The bed feels..." said Leena as she searched for a word of an appropriate description.
"Good," said Serge monotonously.
Leena turned onto her side and faced Serge.
"Serge, do you really dislike Kid that much?" she asked.
Serge stared at the ceiling without an answer.
"I'm sure you don't," said Leena.
"I don't know."
"I can tell, Serge, how you feel about her. Even as you argue, you look at her differently."
"I can't be certain."
"Fair enough. But don't be too stubborn."
Serge heaved a long sigh, his gazed still fixed on the ceiling. After a short moment of silence, he finally spoke. "Leena?" he asked as he closed his eyes.
"Yes?"
"How is Arni the way you know today?"
"You sure you are ready to listen?" Leena asked.
"Yes. Please."
"Well, then," she said as she turned to face the ceiling. "Well, the Arni I lived has a chief named Gonji -- not Radius."
Leena went into detail all that was bad and unbecoming of a village chief. Gonji was lazy; he never worked and expected the villagers to. He never liked to spend a single cent but still expected the best. For as long as Gonji never paid, he was happy, at the expense of the suffering of all the other villagers.
When Leena had not yet finished for a quarter of an hour, Serge had already fallen asleep with a soft snore. She turned on her side again, and set her eyes on his closed eyes that were gentle and restful and lulling her to sleep. She stared intently as she counted the moments that passed and counted the number of friends that were close to her. The moments were long, but her friends were few; and fewer even were of such closeness as with Serge. When she met Serge for the first yesterday, instincts told her he was a friend she could place her trust in. He was sometimes daft and not too outspoken. But he was straightforward and when he spoke his heart, it felt as if he encouraged her to speak her own.
She spent half the hour looking and etching the expression his in her memory. Then, she finally turned back up to the ceiling.
"Good night..." she whispered softly as she slowly drifted into slumber with a smile on her face. ...Serge.
And Kid still snored away.