Chrono Cross Second Journey
Fan Novelization
Book 2
4 A Meeting with the Hermit
lenn knocked softly on the door, through which a voice granted him permission to enter.
He opened the door into a spacious room brimming with royal ambiance. Curtains of white lace and of flowered embroidery elaborated the windows decorated with grills, patterned with gold roses flourishing upon curly stalks. Striking rays of the raging morning sun poured its rays through the windows upon a velvet red that carpeted the flooring. Paintings of nature hung from the four walls, like windows that opened and looked into a world of nature, a world of inner peace. A layered cornice adorned the four walls of the room, set against a ceiling plain. From alcoves in the pillars plants sprouted, scenting the royal chamber a subtle tinge of freshness. In a corner of the room a double bed rested, upon which cozy sheets of warm beige and innocent white laid neatly made. At another corner a dressing table stood proudly, at which its master sat and dolled, assisted by her chambermaids.
Lady Riddel returned a hairbrush to its rightful place in the drawer, stood and excused her chambermaids. They whispered words of concern, hugged each other forlornly. Reluctantly, they pulled themselves from each other, left the room and closed the doors behind them.
As Lady Riddel turned to face him, Glenn lowered his head in respect.
"Dispense with the formalities," said the Lady whose tone was no order but gentle and soothing to his ears.
"Yes, Lady Riddel," he said, dropping the formal greets and well-wishes for the princess of El Nido.
"When we are alone, we shall be as friends like we have always been," said Lady Riddel.
"Yes, Lady Riddel," he said again. His tone remained stiff.
"Has daddy left?" she asked.
"Yes, he has. They have departed before first light. I have notified him that the Lady would follow shortly in the morning. Only the two--four of us, including your two chambermaids remain."
"The manor is now empty, isn't it? In the end, I could do nothing more than watch evil wrest power from daddy's hands," said the Lady sorrowfully, as she walked over to the window. She rested her hands on the window sill and gazed out.
Her hair of violet blue glistened against the pouring light like smooth silk, silk that flowed down to her shoulders and over them, without creases, without folds. A tiara of polished gold and diamonds crowned her head, each diamond like morning dew that sparkled with colors of the rainbow. Dressed in a gown of white, she looked like the angel who had just descended from the heavens, showered by the rays of the sun. She was the angel who lived in Glenn's heart, the angel beautiful and alluring but distant and untouchable.
"You have done what you could, Lady Riddel," said Glenn.
"Yet, I have achieved nothing," said the sorrowful angel. "I dread to think what will happen next. The Ring of Death bars those who seek to enter as effectively as those who seek to leave. The Dragoons of a hundred years old have been led willingly into a trap. If"--she hesitated--"If only Dario was here..."
Glenn detected a change in her voice, a crack. Lady Riddel kept her back to him and kept silent. He heard a sniff and knew she must be in tears. Yet, she never flinched, never raised a hand to her face to wipe what he imagined to be endless tears flowing down her cheeks. He stood far from her on the watch. He feared she would cave, but his feet found little courage to take even a step forward. For many times he had tried to bridge the distance between them under such circumstances, but for that many times she had rejected support. Her refusal was her will and her strength that made his concern look like weakness.
Finally, he hauled his foot forward. His boot rang in the silence.
"Glenn," she said instantly, her voice that was hoarse and tearful was an order.
He caved, retreated, and never considered making another approach.
His brother, Dario, the fourteenth Grandmaster of the Acacia Dragoons, had passed away in the line of duty three years ago. For three years, he saw Lady Riddel suffer the loss of her dearest. She shed no tears before a person, but he knew she shed them on her pillows from dusk through till dawn. She had erected a fortress around her, and disallowed anyone near her fragile heart, to touch it and break it. The closest he could be to her moments of despondence was moments such as now, when he was allowed to hear but not allowed to speak.
Glenn shed no tears either. It was thirteen years ago when his father died in the line of duty, and his mother died of sickness shortly after. He broke down in his brother's arms, then. He questioned Dario for his parents' departure, but his brother could provide no more answers than words of love, concern and support in which Glenn had found no solace. His parents' death were double blows that had left Glenn devastated, disillusioned. His heart sapped dry had turned into the harsh desert, monotonous and unfeeling. The tears that flowed thirteen years ago had dried up like an oasis had parched.
When news of his brother's disappearance traveled to his ears, Glenn was shocked. When his body was discovered, Glenn was numbed. During the wake that lasted three days, he was blank, lost and confused. He was not sad as much as he was discontent. And he pinned blame silently on the Deva Karsh.
"How's Karsh?" Lady Riddel asked suddenly, as if she read his thoughts. Her voice had cleared, but she kept her back to Glenn.
"What do you mean?"
"Is he, too, following daddy's orders blindly? Has he not made any effort to talk daddy out of this?"
"I know none of his endeavors to dissuade the general. What he does concerns me not."
"Glenn, he may have done Dario a disservice. But he still is a Deva of the Acacia Dragoons, the more influential of Devas after Dario. Even if daddy no longer consults the Council of Devas, I expect he would initiate a discussion with daddy."
"Disservice is an understatement, Lady Riddel. He has murdered my brother, your prince."
"We never had proof," she said softly.
"Aren't his feelings for you and his silence on the matter not proof enough?"
Lady Riddel kept silent. Glenn decided to change the topic.
"Even if Karsh had spoken to the general, is it not obvious that he failed to dissuade him?"
"Glenn," said Lady Riddel sternly, "you speak as if you have no interest in the affairs of the dragoons!"
"Lady Riddel!" Glenn gasped, but fell short of speaking his heart, of speaking of the following.
He was but a lowly-ranked private who spends most of his time in quarters feeding on the words of jealousy of my own section mates. When the Lady summoned his presence, they said he curry favor the general's daughter. When the Lady supposed they would like her to speak up for them, they said the general's daughter was embroiled a shameful affair with her lover's younger brother and could not care less if the dragoons was taken over by Lynx. They said things that they eventually concluded to be true. Yet, his words were like feathers that carried no weight, like thin air that fell on deaf ears.
An awkward silence hung low in the room as Glenn drew a breath. Even as such thoughts drifted in his mind, he found no bitterness he could hold against those who despised him. As he had wished, the desert of his heart kept these feelings effectively at bay.
"Please accept my apologies, Glenn," said Lady Riddel ruefully. "My tone has been harsh. We may be sibling-in-laws, but that was inexcusable behavior."
That she regarded him as a sibling-in-law demonstrated her undying love for his brother. It was the love that the tied and bound Dario and Riddel both, even if death had done them part; it was the love that stirred a sand whirl of discomfort in Glenn's heart, even if it had long turned into a desert. In that barren land that was harsh and unforgiving to the living, Riddel was like a cactus that thrived and matured with each day. Each day he left it unattended, it planted itself firmer into his heart. Each time he had tried to uproot the stubborn growth, he found himself hurt by its prickly thorns. He endured the emotional hurt just as he endured verbal ones hurled at him by his section mates, but he found no will to amputate that which had become part of him. Perhaps, he once told himself, he even wanted her to be there.
"You've been through too much," said Glenn. "It is only human."
Lady Riddel tipped her head back and looked up in ponder. Her shoulders rose with a deep breath, and sagged again with a soft sigh.
"I wish those days would return, days without worries, without troubles. Do you recall when the four of us--Dario, Karsh, you and I--would gather outside the weapon smith in Termina? We were such great friends, great buddies, then."
"Most certainly I do. I even recall that day you gave us the bellflowers you plucked from Fossil Valley."
"That was when it started, wasn't it? Your brother and I..."
Glenn turned his head to aside, wondering why his mouth had not kept itself faithfully shut.
"I was moved by his words when he told me not to walk the valley alone, and that he must accompany me the next time. Perhaps before that I already had feelings for him. That day he opened my heart. And till today, I can never forget his earnest, frank and sometimes humorous self. Thinking of him makes me laugh, makes me cry," she sniffed. "How I miss him so..."
Glenn was envious of his brother, but unlike Karsh, he was not jealous. Dario had himself the looks, the personality, the spouse, the career in the dragoons as a Grandmaster, and everything that a great man could ask for. The stars seemed to shine on him, the Gods smile. He walked a path to a perfect future, but a path possibly cut short by an unscrupulous hand. Even if charges had not been formally brought against Karsh for the lack of evidence beyond doubt, Glenn was quite certain he was the murderer.
"My apologies," said Lady Riddel. "I am boring you, am I not?"
"Not at all," he assured.
"Let us return to serious matters."
"Yes."
"It has been several days since I asked of you. What have you learnt of Porre thus far?"
"Rumor says Porre is on their way to El Nido. A vessel is shipping in the first company for the occupation, their full armory in the days ahead."
"When will the first company arrive?" asked Lady Riddel, her tone now serious.
"Tomorrow night at the earliest."
Lady Riddel remained silent with her back to Glenn, unwavering in her poise. After a moment, she spoke, "Daddy needs a diplomat."
"Lady Riddel!" Glenn startled. "Surely, you are not thinking...! The first company sends no decision makers. They will only have you locked away till their commanders arrive."
"It is foolish, Glenn, I know," Lady Riddel conceded. "But I have thought about for a long while now."
"Indeed, you have! And you could have discussed it with me, as a friend, Lady Riddel, if not as your guard. Do you not understand how little chance you will have at this stab in the dark?"
"The chance may be small if I did what I intend to do, but there will be none if I did not. It is the least I can do for the dragoons."
"But I can and will not allow that!" Glenn protested.
"I know you mean well, but it is my decision to stay and engage with Porre, a decision that I will uphold. They would not dare deal harm unto me, as long as I maintain daddy has not disappeared and keep his whereabouts in secret. I just had my two chambermaids pack and return to their families in Termina. But I still would require your assistance. Could you please help, Glenn? As a friend, if not as a dragoon knight. Please?"
She asked with a genteel, yet, heartfelt earnestness that was difficult for Glenn, for perhaps any man, to refuse. Rarely Riddel used her angelic charms to such extents, but if she did, the matter must be grave.
"Yes, my Lady," said Glenn reluctantly. His lips agreed as if they were put under a spell. "What is it that you wish of me to do?"
"Thank you," said Lady Riddel.
As she spelled her requests, Glenn watched her at her back and her darkened silhouette against the glaring backdrop of the morning sky. He wondered if he made a terrible mistake in agreeing to offer assistance, for it meant agreeing to leave her in the manor until Porre's inevitable arrival. In doing so, he would gift her to the enemy with his own hands, an action that would even end in her death; and disobey orders from the general, treason punishable by his own.
Yet, when Lady Riddel finished, Glenn left with a promise that he would honor his word as a knight--a mindless knight--would.
Only two days ago, Termina orchestrated a lively blend of music and paraded packed streets as the entire community prepared itself for the celebrations of the Viper Festival, Termina's 100th anniversary. Today, however, the entire town had dampened into a silent, solemn mood with the festival only more than a week away. The sweltering afternoon sun battered its fiery rays down onto the streets, from which heat rose and distorted through its wavy mirages far ends of the town. Garlands of trampled petals littered the walkways and stayed stagnant beneath the stale, windless atmosphere. The crowds of people stayed cooped within their homes in the early afternoon, as did the children against their wishes, against their nature. Even the port, the trading lifeline between El Nido and the greater continents beyond, seemed to have ceased operations.
Heat cooked in his body and his feet as Glenn strode the long, quiet streets of Termina. The fiery overhead sun wrung perspiration from him, like hands that wrung a cloth dry. His leather tunic within his armor leaked, like water that condensed and dripped off a cold mug. The round, frayed collar of his tunic stung his neck and left it red and sore. With the rest of the Acacia Dragoons now tucked out of sight in Fort Dragonia, he could well shed his bulky, red armor that was the pride and honor he once sought, much like his brother did. But what pride and what honor, he often asked himself. He wielded no Einlanzer. He remained an incompetent foot soldier. He was the laughing-stock of all his mates and buddy to no friend willing, with the exception of Lady Riddel. The undecorated armor had become his prison. Yet, he walked defiantly in full uniform under the intense glare, stubborn, undeterred.
Glenn trudged with his ringing boots towards the shrine of Termina, where the spirits of his father and brother laid beneath a glorified monument, beneath a sword that would one day be in the hands of a worthy Grandmaster. He often wondered, when the time came, if he would be one who watched the crowds roar in his name, or if he would be one in the crowds who roared in another's.
At the Einlanzer of metal silver Glenn knelt and watched its blades glistened and cast streaks of light of rainbow spectrums on the sandy ground. As his knees touched ground, the heat of singed at them. He endured the pain that was an ant bite in comparison to the pain of dilemma that Lady Riddel had decided to put him through. The dilemma was a furious war against an enemy that sprouted no heads, no hands, and no limbs that he could stick a sword into, an enemy unto which no pain he could inflict. In this war, Lady Riddel declared herself the general. Her words were her army of soldiers, her most powerful weapon. Glenn found himself caught by rushing wave of her army, surging him towards a target unknown. He could summon his strength to march against her army, to return to Lady Riddel to cease her foolish orders. Instead, he found himself seemingly content to be pushed and dragged to wherever her army was headed.
"Father, brother," he said in his heart. Then, he hesitated. He had much to speak, but did not know where to start: the fate of the dragoons, the manor and the general. Each had their own tale of lengthy explanations, and their own unmistakable path towards their end. Most of all, no courage he found to confess his feelings for Lady Riddel before the grave of his own brother, the beloved of Lady Riddel. His father would certainly turn in his grave if he spoke the slightest sins of betrayal. His father would rise from the ground to strangle him for bringing disrepute to their family.
"I ask for your blessings," was all he said.
Glenn stood and left for the town outskirts.
"You guys need to cross the sea? Then I might think about lending you my boat. With two conditions, Ms. Kid."
"Huh! With that clunky boat of yours, I don't think we'll survive even a round trip. But I guess this ain't the time to be picky. So, Korcha, what are your conditions?"
"First, if you ever find the Dragon Tear, give it to me."
"Why in the bloody hell do you want the Dragon Tear for? It's been in your village for the past few decades!"
"Well. I've always wanted it, but Chief Direa has her eyes over it..."
"Oh well. What's your other condition?"
"The other condition is: o-once all this ruckus is over..." his voice dipped to a soft inaudible mumble.
"What was that? Quit mumbling and speak up, you bloke!"
The other voice growled, hesitated and finally spoke, "I want you to be my wife!"
"What?"
Glenn just arrived near the commotion, but from a hundred feet away in the town's silence he had heard the voices, voices that seemed to dispute more than they seemed to negotiate. As he walked towards the shore where frail, wooden sail boats docked, he watched intently a scrawny ferryman conduct the deal with a young, scantily-dressed blonde. Another two stood behind the lady of bold dressing, one of them was a young boy with a red bandana and a double-bladed swallow, the other a young lady in red.
Glenn regarded them intently, for the three youths matched the description of the intruders who had so boldly slipped into the royal office of Viper Manor undetected. The incident that was a crime of a stellar scale had left Glenn wondering. Following their plunging escape off the manor balcony, the general had not ordered guards to comb the cliffs behind the manor, and more to Termina for a search. He had not ordered even measures to be put in place for extra security at home. According to Lady Riddel, not only the general had no intention to pursue the matter, he went as far as to say that Lynx supported his decision of inaction. When Glenn had probed further, Lady Riddel had expressed uncertainty and ended gravely, "I fear for the safety of the three, especially of that young man."
"I said I want you to be my wife!" screamed the ferryman.
The lady with hair of honey blonde, who dressed as if she didn't, clenched her fists in fury. The other, dressed in a dress in a striking mismatch of red and blue, hid giggles behind her hand. The young man with the red bandana, however, seemed detached, distant.
"Oi, Korcha!" the blonde-haired lady pointed a finger at him. "Don't mess with me! I'm going to kick your arse so hard you'll kiss the moons!"
"I'm not joking!" the ferryman said lovingly, his eyes sparkling in the afternoon sun. "To tell you the truth, I, that it..."
"What?" the lady shouted, rubbed her arms and feigned a shiver, as if from the mushy coldness of his words she felt freezing chill.
"It was"--the ferryman swallowed--"love at first sight!"
"You know who I am, don't you?" said Kid, exasperated.
"I know you're some kind of thief. Don't you worry. I don't care about your past, and I don't want you to feel forced. We can wait until all this fuss is over. So, please..."
After heaving a sigh, she said, "Okay, understood! But this ain't something I can agree to on a whim. I'll consider it. After I settle the score with Lynx, that is. That's about the best I can promise. I can't guarantee you anything more," she quickly added.
"Alright," the ferryman said, blissfully abstracted. "That's all I need for now. I'll lend you the boat!"
This while, Glenn saw it fit to approach.
"Excuse me, I need a boat," he asked, frank and direct.
"Are you from the dragoons?" asked the skimpily-dressed lady. "Seen you before at the shrine."
Glenn's regarded her from head to toe, unimpressed with how little she wore. He grew up in a family that prides itself on its reputable standing in society and had been living in the haven of royalty and conformism. It was only a part of tradition to be properly dressed, not to like a wild animal that wore nothing at all roam about the streets. This lady had broken the precepts of tradition and violated the codes of morality. By her very dressing, she had spoken the words of profanity as if she had spoken them on her own lips. Yet, his unfeeling heart found no emotion appropriate to express his opinion of the matter. Thus, he was not even certain if he admired her courage, or he abhorred the disgrace she was willing to stoop to. He merely felt it appropriate to respect her as he would another person.
"Yes, ma'am," he said courteously, "I am a knight from the Acacia Dragoons."
"Don't get all 'ma'am' on me! Kid's my name!" Kid slapped herself on her chest. "That's Serge and Leena."
"My name is Glenn. Pleased to meet you," Glenn said truthfully.
"Heard your dragoons high-tailed out of Viper Manor yesterday. Any truth in that?" Kid asked, just as direct, just as forthright.
"They've left on an expedition," Glenn said nothing more than necessary. "They will return shortly once the expedition is over."
"We've heard they have departed for Fort Dragonia," Serge added.
"Yes," Glenn affirmed regretfully. "I am leaving for Fort Dragonia, too."
Kid expressed doubt with a curl of her lip. "Why didn't you go with the rest?"
Glenn hesitated. "I was assigned to task and was delayed."
"Hey! Hey!" yelled Leena, who hopped to his side and patted him on his armor at his shoulder. "Do you happen to know how one could cross Mount Pyre into Fort Dragonia?"
Glenn shook his head. "I'm afraid I do not, Miss Leena. But I urge you not to approach Fort Dragonia. Lynx is a man of unfathomable evil."
Kid growled. "Evil or not, I have a personal problem to settle with that bastard. Serge has his own questions, too. And from what we've heard, Lynx plans to activate the Fort Dragonia with a certain Dragon Tear. If that happens, all hell will break loose, I tell you."
"Activate the fort?" said Glenn, baffled. He had heard nothing from Lady Riddel about activating the fort, upon which all hell would break loose, as Kid had explicitly described.
"But I don't suppose you'd want to come with us, since you are on their side," concluded Kid, as she strode past Glenn and strode to the wooden boat.
"You do not understand. I do not side Lynx," said Glenn firmly. "Neither do I approve of the general's actions, for the general has been bewitched."
"Bewitched, huh?" she turned to Glenn and stared him in the eye.
"And it would seem I cannot dissuade you from confronting Lynx?" said Glenn.
"Yes, it would seem so," said Kid with a confident smirk. "How about joining us then?"
Glenn pondered for a moment. "If you do not mind a knight who tags along."
"Then, it looks like we are literally on the same boat!" Leena cheered with two jumps and three claps.
"But before we head to Fort Dragonia, I would like to pay a visit to a master knight who lives at the Hermit's Hideaway."
"Master Knight?" asked Serge.
"When my elder brother and I were younger, he was our guardian," said Glenn. "I have word for him before we head to Fort Dragonia."
"Fine with me," Kid shrugged. "But let's get our arses moving! We haven't got all day."
Kid began unwinding the anchor ropes as the group prepared to depart. After Serge and Leena, Glenn hopped on the flimsy two-hulled boat that seemed about to fall apart. Unaccustomed to the poorly engineered buoyancy, the double-hulled tilted so steeply when Glenn boarded that he had to lean forward to tip it back to balance. The wooden planks creaked in protest, Leena screamed in terror. Kid boarded last and boarded swiftly and steadily. She dumped the length rope into the hull and took her seat across Glenn. She leaned back comfortably, crossed her legs but left ample peeking space into her undergarment within, a sight from which Glenn quickly shied.
As Serge picked up the oar and paddled the boat away towards the open sea, the ferryman, who seemed to have been conveniently forgotten by all, began screaming for Kid's attention. Glenn stole a glance over his shoulder and saw what was worse than a love-struck girl who reluctantly waved her lover away. He witnessed a clown leap and witnessed a fanatic wave his arms animatedly from the rocky shores. Had Glenn been an ignorant observer, he would have thought he witnessed a demented inmate who had fled the lunatic asylum.
"Hey!" the ferryman shrilled, his gaze fixed on Kid. "You be careful with yourself from now on. Just remember that your life is not just your own anymore."
Kid made a face, as if revolted. She waved impatiently at Serge and urged him to hurry.
"You're my wife-to-be!" the ferryman shrieked repeatedly.
Kid shivered, as if his shrill chilled her as much as his mushy words did. She raised the sails and frowned as the ferryman repeated his roars.
"Kid," said Serge seriously, his eyes focused on the distant horizon, "are you serious?"
"Serious about what?" snapped Kid, who seemed edgy and furious at the ferryman's attention.
"Serious about marrying that Korcha?"
Kid slapped a palm to her forehead, as if her head ached. She heaved a sigh in surrender, and then said, "Serge, you are such a Beachbum."
The lackluster winds and the errant currents were the reasons for the sluggish journey on a boat. The flimsy, clunky, wooden vessel crawled through the waves, carrying on it travelers of four, each of their patience put to the test. Soaring from the western skies in lone flight was a seagull, white, beautiful, tall above all. Soaring to the skies above them, it circled, watched and squealed at the four who crawled to their destination, like an arrogant hare that mocked a dim-witted tortoise. And for as long as day reigned, the sun that was never to stop burning this world continued to blaze through the naked canopy of azure blue and assail the earth with its fiery might. And for as long as their destination remained distant, the four companions had to put up with the wearisome boredom.
Leena helped drown the hours of dreadfulness with her continuous flow of chatters. Like a magician who pulled an endless chain from his own mouth, she pulled an endless chain of words from her own and made Serge her first audience. Then, when Serge's unreceptive seriousness disappointed her, she recited her verbal prowess to Kid with much fervor and enthusiasm. Soon, Glenn found himself showered by her quizzes that sought to uncover in one boat trip all things about his life, all things personal, good and bad.
"Where do you grow up in?"
"Termina."
"How old are you?"
"Twenty."
"How about your parents? I heard your father is--"
"He's passed away."
"How about your mother?"
"She's left, too."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Are you attached, or married?"
Where most people stopped and shifted their gaze about to let apology settle, she continued prattling at full throttle, completely oblivious to her own insensitivity. Although Glenn minded none of that, he was surprised that an outspoken lady such as she was knew little of basic manners. But eventually, she handed the baton of responsibility for keeping the team spirit high over to Serge.
Serge poured to Glenn his story and all complexities of it, including the journey that spanned two parallel worlds. Serge also explained what he knew of thus far, which he admitted was too little to shed light on his miserable plight. Glenn, however, found himself absorbed in Serge's tale of an uncanny, even magical disposition. The tale twisted and meandered, rose and fell with that much drama, and that much mysterious phenomena, Glenn almost felt it was a story invented, even if he trusted otherwise.
"What would Lynx have to do with the future of the world being split in twain?" Glenn wondered aloud. "I find it strange that the world may divide into different futures, each charting its own course of history."
"Like you, we are baffled," Serge said, resigned.
"The story revolves around Serge," added Leena, "and this terrible thing known as Lavos. Perhaps all this that is happening revolves around this Lavos, too. Unfortunately, we don't know much of this Lavos as of now."
"I know nothing of this Lavos either," Glenn said. "But even so, its name is of one that rings in my ears an ill feeling, if I may say."
"I feel the same way, too," Serge agreed.
Glenn turned his eyes to the ocean to gather his thoughts and relive the story in his mind. But he saw in the corner of his vision the thick, plumes of black smoke rising up into the sky. He jolted to his feet, tilted the boat, lost his balance and fell back into his seat. His companions caught his line of sight and followed its direction.
"That is...," Glenn pointed. "Sir Radius!"
"Oh dear!" gasped Leena, hands to her mouth.
"Sir Radius?" asked Serge, his lips parted, his brows raised in surprise.
"He is the master knight I mentioned," said Glenn as he grabbed the oar, dunked it into the water and began to paddle. "He lives there."
Over the isle hung a faint mist, stretching as far as the beaches and into the blue seas. Stench of burnt wood saturated the air, acrid and stinging to the nasals. A scenic isle crowned with the many trees of lush green had its attention robbed by the thick, dark plumes of smoke that rose from its center. Overhead, the unblemished blue was blotted in dark, wispy black that refused to drift away, for the winds above had precious little strength to take them far.
The instant the boat touched shore, Glenn leapt off it. Covering his nose and mouth, he charged forward, past the shores of the Hermit's Hideaway. The duty of a knight called for a hand to his sword, his courage, and his instincts to ward off a possible enemy who had torched a friend's territory. But the filial piety for his guardian stirred in his heart none of the disbelief, anger and disgust, just as his mind did none of the cajoling to push his legs forward. His heart was calm, unperturbed and his mind thoughtlessly followed where his legs felt obligated to carry it to.
His companions trailed him closely, as he brought them storming into sparse woods. Twigs and branches cracked, and grass and sand rustled as they scrambled urgently along a faint trail through the woods. A lizard camouflaged itself amongst low thicket and paid little attention to the passing din. Birds on the ground hopped away from the coming rampage, and watched curiously the anxious flutter of the four, worse than a frightened flock of their kind if they took to the skies. Above them, the sun poked through the riddled canopy of leaves and left its rays glowing in the foul-smelling smoke, a sight as captivating as it was ironical.
Soon, the party of four companions emerged at a small clearing in the woods, from where the smoke steadily rose.
A tall, sturdy tree once stood before them and served central pillar and support to a two-storey wooden home where Sir Radius lived. The last of the flames burned away at the tree, crackling, as if slowly gnawing and chewing. It had left behind a skeletal frame, bare of leaves, charred and smoldering and shrouded in smoke dense enough to throw a screen of tears over Glenn's eyes and tickle him in his throat. The dwelling of modest make was no longer: its walls and contents, reduced to piles of burnt debris that lay scattered at the roots of the tree. Perhaps, even its owner rested amongst the ashes on the ground.
"What happened here?" Glenn wondered, frowning. "Did Lynx do this?"
"That is correct," said a voice that brought a frown to Glenn. "But maybe not?"
Amidst the foggy environs, a figure appeared and descended gracefully, magically to the ground. The bells on her harlequin costume jingled softly.
"The correct answer is, I did this under Monsieur Lynx's order," sang Harle with a lively tune, and her arms spread wide in pride.
"You again!" Kid roared, displeased. Then she sneezed twice. "Blazes! Darn smoke!"
Harle ignored Kid, tiptoed, and spun a full circle that ended with her facing Serge. Her bells jingled like those heard during the most joyous of festivities, unfitting now to the bleakness of the circumstance. Harle bowed low at Serge, as if with much respect. But Glenn found little reason to show her any.
"Harle," Glenn said firmly as he drew his sword, an action his hand felt obligated to perform. "What have you done to Sir Radius?"
"Ooh-la-la! Glenn!" Harle teased as she playfully swayed her body. "You're all fired up!"
"Tell me," Glenn demanded.
"Tell us, you evil fiend!" Leena followed angrily.
With a smile and a disdainful wink, Harle wagged a finger each at Glenn and Leena.
"Excuse me, Serge, but do you want to know why I burned this place to the ground?"
"I'm sure you'd be glad to tell us," said Serge, his swallow ready for the confrontation.
"To get rid of that geezer who lives here," explained Harle. "Monsieur Lynx says to smoke him out and lure him into the fort. I figured it's the same either way, so I smoked him instead. But I was disappointed to see that the geezer isn't here. I wonder where he went?"
"You realize you have committed a grave crime for attempted murder," said Glenn, relieved that Radius might still be alive. "You must be punished for what you have done."
"Ooh," said Harle, fingers to her mouth. "Punish, you certainly will. But how, I wonder? Let us not forget that the dragoons have holed up in Fort Dragonia, and would likely have no proper facilities for my detention and trial."
"The Council requires no court and cell to put you to death!"
Glenn flashed his sword and reminded her of his threat, one that Harle plainly ignored. He took a step forward to pronounce his resolve, but with a look of derision she regarded him, the way an adult regarded an immature child. As Glenn raised his sword for the strike, Harle only tucked her hands behind her, stood on her toes, and smiled at Glenn that was to him a demonstration of invitation and of challenge. Strength surged from within his being and brought him storming towards Harle. His arms swung down in a powerful slash. But the blade of steel was only as sharp as the years of combat experience built up from theoretical military training; it disturbed only smoke, for Harle had disappeared from where she stood.
"Do I consider myself reprimanded?" said Harle playfully as she reappeared near the debris that was remnants of Radius's seclusion. She spun on her toes to Glenn and regarded him with a triumphant smile.
Glenn frowned.
"Well, my dear Serge, I'd be off now," she bid. "I'll see you again, real soon."
The merry jester blew a loud-smacking kiss at Serge, a kiss at which Kid snorted. Harle flipped into the air and disappeared.
During her stay at the manor for the past three years, Glenn had seen that she was oblivious to people, danger and threats. Like customary etiquette of hers, she wore no hint of fear on her face, but the radiant smiles of arrogance and insanity, smiles that were masks of her deepest feelings and darkest thoughts within. Like a spoiled brat from a filthy rich family, she saw herself as the greatest, and listened to no one, other than her equally enigmatic superior whom she affectionately called Monsieur Lynx. Sometimes, many wondered if it was the other way around instead, that it was Lynx who listened to her. Sometimes, many feared her more than they did fear Lynx.
"I shall comb the debris," Glenn said as he sheathed his sword.
"Let us help, too," offered Serge.
"Would you mind if you searched the woods instead?" asked Glenn. "Sir Radius might have left before Harle arrived."
"There is no need," said a low, rough voice.
Glenn turned to its source and saw in the smoke a wavy shadow approaching them. His hand found its way to the hilt of his sword as he blinked off tears and squinted for a clearer view. At length the figure emerged into view as an aged man with a bony frame, a walking stick in his hand and a wrinkled smile on his face.
"Sir Radius, you are safe!" cried Glenn.
"It has been a while, Glenn."
"Miss Riddel had informed me that Lynx and the general were heading to Fort Dragonia. I played it safe and went into hiding for a while. Ever since Lynx became the general's assistant, I have always expected something like that."
Sir Radius led the four companions to a trapdoor some fifty feet away from the scene of the arson.
"That is why I made sure to build a sturdy stronghold underground," said Radius as hauled the trapdoor open and led his guests down a dim path down a flight of stairs.
A lit oil lamp that rested atop a long wooden table cast a gloom of yellow in the underground chamber. Cemented rocks and wooden pillars fortified the sides of the chamber and formed its walls, on which shadows of all stood firm to the lamp's undisturbed flame. Scrolls of paintings of ancient calligraphy and landscapes adorned one of the unflattering walls, each stroke of the brush on each painting itself a calm and aesthetic addition to the solitary haven. In the air a strong scent of incense lingered, a refreshing and cool relief from the vicious heat in the hottest of afternoons in the grounds above. Glenn closed his eyes and drew deep breaths. With every of each, he felt the fatigue wear off and strength revive in his heart, as if the scent carried mystical potions of vitality.
"Lynx is plotting something," said Glenn as he opened his eyes and noticed Leena had just done the same. "Few know what he is up to, except that Porre has a hand in this."
"Everything traces back to Porre," said Radius as he walked to the table and drew the seats.
"What do you mean?" asked Glenn.
Radius gestured with hospitality. "Please, make yourselves comfortable," he offered. "Serge, Kid, Leena, did I get your names right? Do wait a moment, while I serve up some tea. It has been a while since anyone visited me on this island."
Radius hurried into his kitchen. The sounds of cabinets squeaked and knocked as they opened and closed. The sound of water burbled as it poured.
"I was once a proud member of the Acacia Dragoons," said Radius from the kitchen, his words spoken in rumbling echoes in the underground chamber. "General Viper, your father Garai, and the blacksmith at Termina, and I lived through war together. But that was a good fifteen years ago."
"The Guardia-Porre war in 1005AD," added Glenn.
"Indeed," said Radius, as he walked out of the kitchen with a tray of a pot of tea and several cups. He walked over to the table and served the cups to his visitors. From the pot's pout a sweet aroma rose like the scent of flowers and drifted to Glenn's nose.
"Jasmine tea!" Leena exclaimed with a clap. "My favorite."
"And jasmine tea, it is," said Radius with a smile.
Radius poured into everyone's cup the fragrant tea glistened in the golden flame of the lamp, like did the flow of honey in bright daylight. When he finished, Leena bowed her head in gratitude, lifted the cup to her nose and spoiled herself in what seemed from her expression like a divine scent from heaven. Kid threw the tea down her throat and helped herself to more. Serge's eyes maintained constant focus at Radius's every motion, as if with respect, as if in startle.
"Guardia," continued Radius, as he took his seat, "ruler of the northern continent of Zenan beyond El Nido, was once a peaceful kingdom. But it was easily overthrown in a war that lasted no more than a full year. Your friends may not know, but I am certain you know that which side we, the dragoons, fought on."
"Porre's side," replied Glenn. "The Dragoons fought against Guardia."
"Against Guardia?" Leena gasped, choking on her tea.
"I know what you are thinking, but I'm afraid that was how things went, Leena."
Leena looked at Radius with both hands wrapped around her cup, as if she protected something dear.
"Our paths with Porre did not just start fifteen years ago, however," said Radius. "But you might be aware that exactly a hundred years ago, people from Porre, the southern continent of Zenan, migrated into the El Nido archipelago and colonized it. The Viper clan, the sole contributor to the defeat of the native settlers, was immediately crowned by the Porre military as ruler of El Nido. The Acacia Dragoons was established. But even under a different name, the dragoons officially belong to Porre."
Serge and Leena nodded.
"Before the Guardia-Porre war, Porre worded their aspirations nicely to its people. They spoke of a revolution that would overthrow the greedy monarchies and implement institutions and grant upon the people their freedom in speech and in choosing their leaders. They claimed to foresee everlasting peace under a global community. When they showed in their own home nation in less than a decade that such leadership worked, the people were impressed and convinced.
"Some two years before the war, Porre went on a massive recruitment spree and enlisted soldiers, the Acacia Dragoons and even bribed spies from Guardia to join them in realizing their vision. But even before this enlistment, Porre had already been secretly pushing its edge at the technological front and amassing an assortment of non-conventional firepower like guns and cannons. God knows how long they have been researching and producing these firepower. Only when war broke out two years later, did these weapons of massive destruction come into light. Their technology had been kept so classified that even the dragoons were surprised. It goes without saying that with this powerful advantage, Guardia fell swiftly, and Porre became the continent's ruler.
"But Porre's empty promises broke, and the hidden agenda soon revealed its ugly side. Killings never stopped but, instead, worsened over the years. Ruling their people with fear, Porre slowly expanded into other parts of the world like pests slowly eating away at the earth's land. Disappointed at Porre's militarism and rampant corruption in the higher ranks, the three of us, together with the small army we brought over, retreated back into El Nido some ten years ago, in 1010AD.
"It was around this time when a man by the name of Lynx appeared amongst Porre's military top-ranking officials. It is a well-established fact that Lynx clambered the Porre hierarchy in a short span of time, but few knew how he earned the trust of the top officials. We can suppose he tempted Porre as he did the general with the possession of the Frozen Flame, a treasure rumored to grant its bearer any wish, but a treasure that exists in El Nido only as a legend.
"Over the years, the Acacia Dragoons in El Nido grew independent, tried to detach ourselves from Porre. Needless to say, Porre soon became furious, and has since been looking for excuses to assimilate us into its own territory and control in order to better their chances in the search for the mythical Frozen Flame. Porre and Lynx came to us at the tables for bilateral talks, though their displeasure with our departure was never put on record.
"The strategic mountains that border El Nido and General Viper's consistent refusal have successfully deterred their entry here, but only as far as three years ago, when Lynx decided to defect from Porre as he claims and joined the dragoons. But as things are now, it is likely that he has never defected from Porre. The day the Acacia Dragoons discard their manor shall be the day Porre seizes El Nido."
"Sir Radius," said Leena earnestly as she put down her cup. "Why don't you join us? We are after Lynx, too."
"The three of you?" Radius asked, surprised and concerned.
"You don't think we are capable?" Kid snapped, as if in retort.
"That is not what I meant, Ms. Kid," said Radius calmly, "and I apologize if I sounded so. Would it be possible for me to know what motivation you might have for seeking this man?"
"Initially, we were after him for the truth," explained Serge, who spun the cup on its base and but fixed his gaze at Radius. "We want to know the truth about how I came into this world, a world in which I passed away ten years ago."
"You... died ten years ago?" asked Radius, who seemed stunned but intrigued.
"In my own world, I lived on. But in this world, I died. But the two worlds' history, however, continued on nonetheless, independent of each other for the past ten years. People's lives are duplicated--Leena, my own villagers, and even you, Sir Radius, exist in my own world as the chief of Arni."
"Two worlds and I am the chief of Arni in your world? That is most intriguing," said Radius, his brows furrowed, and his eyes lost in deep thought. Then, he turned to Glenn. "And would you know about this Glenn?"
"I have just heard, too," said Glenn. "I have not been to this other world Serge speaks of."
Radius stroked his beard and nodded wisely.
"Lynx seemed to know of these two worlds," Serge continued. "But at this moment, he is intent on activating the fort for some Sacrament of the Souls. And we are going there to stop him."
"Sacrament of the Souls," Radius's brows twitched in worry. "It does not bode well. You must beware, for Lynx is a fearsome man."
Kid snorted, raised the cup to her mouth and tossed her head back with a noisy gulp.
Glenn cast a glance at Kid, who wore a look of disregard, blatant and rude. "That is why," Glenn said as he turned to Radius, "Lady Riddel wishes of you to speak up against Lynx and confront him. And that is why I am here--to request for your strength and support."
"Support I will give, but strength I have none, I regret to say."
"But--" stuttered Glenn.
"Say nothing more," Radius said with a hand raised. "I no longer wish to involve myself in any conflicts. Besides, there is no way I would want to face General Viper when we now stand on different sides. General Viper is my benefactor"--Radius cast a sad gaze at Glenn before he shifted it away--"in great many ways."
Glenn avoided Radius's eyes, stared into the distance, and explained, "But Lady Riddel remains in the manor. I have tried to dissuade her, but she has made up her mind to engage in diplomacy with Porre. Alone."
"What?" said Radius, frowning. Then, his expression receded, as if in comprehension. "Beautiful as an angel, stubborn as a mule. Few can move her."
"And Brother has passed away."
"I shall go in his place," said Radius assertively as he stood to his feet. "I will not allow such folly. Rest assured I will head to the manor and haul her out of it, even if I break a bone or two."
"I-I will go with you," Glenn said, as he stood to his feet.
"No, Glenn." Radius laid a hand on Glenn's shoulder and sat him down. "The sun sets soon. I advise you ladies and gentlemen to put up for the night. Help yourself to the rations in the kitchen. Glenn, I would like you to take care of my guests tonight. Leave Lady Riddel to me and I will have her back by dawn tomorrow."
As Radius hurried to where a long sword hung from the wall, Glenn found a flurry of considerations in his mind, as if the frontline of the Lady's army stopped charging and now wandered in all directions, unsure of where to head.
Having heard Radius speak resolutely, Glenn knew he had failed. He was not as ashamed to have failed his orders, as he was to have failed to do the right thing. As a descendant of the Garai family, Glenn was powerless against a lady superior who issued orders against her own well-being, against all odds, as if she put his blade to her neck and ordered him to execute her.
The day he entered the military, his mind had been constantly cast into a shape his immediate superiors wanted, a shape uniform, fitting and easy to handle. He understood orders as they were, and had been taught they must be obeyed no matter the cost. When told to run, he did; when told to sleep, he dared not bat an eye. When used in training, his mind trod along the battlefield submissively on the trail of commands laid by his superiors. When assigned to a temporary leadership position, his mind wandered frantically about the open fields and searched for trails that were never there. When put to a real test, however, his inflexible mind found little strength to free itself from its regular bounds, and thus found constant struggles between orders and morals.
As Radius was about to left the underground stronghold, Glenn said, "Sir Radius, thank you."