This story belongs to me and my creative mind. However, many of the characters, names, and places all belong to their respective companies, so don't yell at me for copyright infringements! Remember, Italics represent a person's thoughts or the telling of past events.

Enjoy...

:A Moment of Discord:

Chapter Four: Many Words

The great forges in the foundry hissed and spat with molten steel, cranes and chains and mechanical equipment roaring with movement. Heat shimmered in the air, waves of it pouring across the brows of the workers and anyone close by. Even in his office, rather, his parent's office, the sounds and heat were present through the stone walls. He wiped his forehead, pausing again in his tasks to rest on his limbs. The stress of this project, of everything that happened in the last week, seemed enough to break his spirit and cause him to collapse. He growled, sitting upright and forcing quill to inkwell to paper. There was a time to brood, a time to labor, and now it was time for words.

"Palamdir, I know this is a troubling thing to read, and by no normal circumstance would I ask so much of you. You must understand, my presence here is necessary to keep this project on time. I cannot and will not contemplate the risk of this Airship being delayed at any time, even if it is for a wicked purpose. I dare not risk the wrath of Oberon, he is too seeded in his madness to chance a rescue of my wife and children."

Gordan paused again, gritting his teeth and forcing tears back. He had to be strong, had to put aside his pain for the project. There would be time to weep, time aplenty to cry and let fear overwhelm his heart when this was all over. For now, there was no choice but to follow this path given to him.

"I need you, as much as you yourself are busy with family and business, to keep an occasional eye on my manor. Give the letters within this parchment to my head servants and chief of the guard, they can care for the upkeep of the house. If anyone comes to the manor to meet with me, inform them that I am on a sabbatical to visit with family in Treno. If any personal friends come, send them here if they desire as quickly as you can arrange it. I will pay for any expenses you incur in that act."

"I am sorry that I must demand so much from you, but I know you will understand that these are exceptional times. I wish you godspeed, my friend, and good health."

"Sincerely, Gordan Fulmen."

> > >

The manor, for all intents, was merely a large single-story structure that was spread across a large plot of land surrounded by wrought iron fencing. Fruit bearing trees stood in neat rows and columns inside, gardeners pruning the branches and collecting the ripe oranges and lemons. A cobblestone path led to the front of the manor, a great circular roundabout with a fountain at the middle. Water poured from several spouts, lending a backdrop of splashing water not unlike the coast and the rocky shores. Mackenzie, in the brief time he had to admire this, was impressed with the appearance of the grounds. Whereas others would invest in ornaments and displays of wealth, this Duke seemed content to invest in goods with a purpose other than appearance. It was very utilitarian, everything there for a reason.

"Okay, we're here." Hawina announced, dismounting from his steed. The other soldiers did the same, one calling for stablehands to lead the beasts away. Macky observed them with an ounce of caution, the Captain's word still plain in his memory. It was he, Fedrich and his four fellow knights and six guards from Lindblum, alone in a city that was through with playing nice to the Regent. An ambush wasn't out of the question.

"The Duke's in the back, so if you'll come this way..." Hawina paused a moment, then looked back as all the escorts from Lindblum approached. "Hey now, we don't need all of you here."

"I would prefer to have my men with me." Macky insisted.

"Well, a man doesn't need a bloody army to follow him 'round. Just get two of your finest and the rest can wait."

The Inquisitor sighed. "If you insist. Fedrich, Sergeant, you're with me." He glanced back at the other knights. "The rest of you take a little walk around town."

"Right then, let's go."

Hawina led them inside the manor through a large door, entering into a great central hall. The simple and functional appearance remained consistent, only a comfortable number of stuffed chairs and couches for guests on thick carpets. Large windows allowed in plentiful sunlight, the walls a sandy tan with large oil paintings hanging in-between. Doors on either side led to the wings of the manor, the center merely a large area for guests and parties. The rear of the manor was almost solid glass, offering a splendid view of the great Euronus plains. On the deck outside sat the Duke, his robust figure resting on a wood chair with others sharing his company. Macky wondered if he would use the pleading eyes of his family to press his worries onto his heart rather than his mind.

"I don't need to remind you to mind yer manners around the Duke." Hawina looked at Fedrich and the Lindblum Sergeant. "I'll be close by, so don't get keen with any ideas."

"We wouldn't dream of it." Macky said off hand, walking toward a door in the glass barrier.

The Captain opened the door for the Inquisitor, alerting the Duke to his guests. He stood to an impressive height, dressed in modest clothing for someone of noble standing. Most noticeable was a cascade of curly, sun bleached hair resting to his shoulders and a sharply defined face. Appearance alone made him intimidating to those who hadn't seen him. His eyes bore into Macky's, impressing an obvious dislike of his presence at the call of the Regent.

"Good afternoon, Duke Jon Peradin." Macky offered a hand, which the Duke took in a firm grip. "The Regent is glad that you are willing to talk of these problems we have rather than ignore us."

"Don't suspect that I do this out of kindness, but rather of necessity. I will not subjugate my citizens to a fight if one can be avoided." Peradin looked at the Lindblum soldier and Fedrich, his eyes glaring with mistrust. "A demi-human. Has the Regent polluted the mind of the Burmecian King as well?"

Fedrich nearly snapped a word, but Macky held up a hand to forestall any rude comments. "King Hiryuu sent his finest Dragon Knights as a sign of good faith, nothing more. Don't read into it too much, there's nothing to find."

"Hn." The Duke curled his lips. "As you say. Before we get carried on, I would introduce my wife Ella, my son Harold and my two daughters, Nilaya and Nasca."

Macky bowed formally. "A pleasure to meet with you, madams and gentleman. I'm Mackenzie Terrace, Inquisitor under the Regent Cid Fabool."

"Have a seat." Jon motioned to a chair, sitting in his own and steepling his fingers. "Are there any other pleasantries you wish to dispense?"

"None." Macky folded his hands together, assuming a comfortable position. His two protectors stood at attention next to his chair. "I prefer business before pleasure."

"Then speak."

"Alright." Macky collected his thoughts, mentally preparing himself for a battle of wits and intellect. As always, he smirked at the irony that he once prided his physical prowess over his mind, yet now hardly trusted his strength. "You have neglected to send the household taxes to the Regent and openly deny any goods to be sent to Lindblum. Why?"

"Because the Regency is a throne built upon the blood of innocent men and women, and it's laws crafted from a dictator who has no right to rule over this land. My father's lineage, my blood and family, are the only ones who have the right to rule these shores."

"Yet you lost the fight during the Mist Wars."

"And that has relevance to me how? Just because someone enters your home and declares it under the ownership of someone else doesn't mean it is true. My father lived through the battle, ruled many years afterwards. Does the Regent have a blood claim to this land? Did he, in all his arrogance, bother to remove this seat of power in place of his own? If this truly is a land under the rule of the Regent, why leave the previous rulers behind?"

"The Regent Cid VIII wasn't concerned with how a city is ruled. You were conquered, Duke, and lost any right to call this land your own on that day. Your bearing as a Duke or nobleman doesn't effect this fact."

"I say it does."

"How?"

"The very meaning of Duke is one who rules over a given territory of land. That I retain the title of Duke, that the Regent himself still recognizes me with that same title, can only mean that this land is my property. As such, I have every right to do with it as I please, such as refuse to trade its goods or pay tax on the houses therein."

Macky let a moment pass, mentally checking a point to the Duke's favor. Obviously the man was well educated, but still chose to warp history and his own actions to his benefit. Now it was time to understand why he chose to halt payment of taxes, why now when he had years to do so. "I ask, then, why? Why now?"

"It was difficult to in the past, Inquisitor. Only now, with my city freed of the accursed Mist and thriving, can I safely separate myself from the Regent's illegal hold."

"Surely nothing to do with the more violent protests in the southeast?"

"Mere coincidence."

"Then why are their raiding vessels in your docks?"

The Duke hesitated only a moment. "They can trade with me as they like."

"I noticed those ships are from the Northern Continent, home to vicious raiders and pirate clans. I don't believe you are foolish enough to allow them into your harbor for mere trade. Raiders like them only listen to the sound of coins, and the large sums you profess to have would tempt them to enlist for your use."

"I have them here for trade, Inquisitor. Can you prove me wrong?"

"Not at the moment, but a simple trip to the shore would answer that. Even for trade, the northern seas are a long distance away. Somehow I think trading wouldn't be enough to motivate them to come."

The Duke remained silent, brows furrowed. Macky let a grin cross his lips, balancing the score. It was obvious to anyone that these northern hirelings were only capable of fighting and pillaging. To trade with them, if ever they were motivated to, would be with blood money. No Duke would allow such a blight to stain his economy.

"Unorthodox trading partners don't concern me, Duke." Macky reached into the thick pocket of his coat, drawing a bound scroll of several papers. He offered them to the Duke, and he accepted them reluctantly. "For now, my only reason for being here is to negotiate this tax. These parchments have in full detail the words from our Regent. Your father and you paid these taxes without complaint for decades, to suddenly oppose it on the basis of ownership is a difficult claim to make."

"I will not debate the truth with you, Inquisitor."

Macky stood, smoothing his coat and pants. "You needn't debate it at all. I can return to Lindblum with your refusal as easily as an agreement. Whether you want to involve yourself in more dangerous situations is up to you. Fedrich, Sergeant, we're done here."

"You won't convince me of this fallacy, Mackenzie." Peradin reiterated, standing as well.

"That is your choice to make, Jon." The Inquisitor bowed again. "My thanks for welcoming us to your home, Duke Peradin, Madam Ella. I will return tomorrow at this time to see if you think any differently of the tax."

With that, Macky turned and followed the lead of the Captain, his two guards on either side. He let the tension slide away from his mind, confidant he had rattled the solid plans of the Duke to merely brush aside any intrusion on his claim to the land. Already he was certain these talks would amount to nothing gained. However, as he prodded and poked the Duke's many actions, he would gain an understanding of his intents. Perhaps the raiders were there for trade, perhaps for a building of men to oppose the Regent's battalions.

'Feh, for all the manpower a person can wield, it's nothing to the Viltgances. Even if we only have four in the sky, that's more than anyone else can boast of. Let him rebel, I'll laugh when his men try to fight against an untouchable warship.'

> > >

Hawina watched the Inquisitor and his escort left the premises, passing into the street of the city without incident. He sighed in relief, wondering if this meeting for negotiations was a farce to cover an attempt to kill the Duke. The man, Mackenzie, seemed sure of his ability to reason with the nobleman. Had it been a cover to kill him, they would not have spared a person who seemed a valuable tool to the Regency, nor have involved knights from another nation. The presence of Dragon Knights was a genuine surprise for the Captain, he had only anticipated the armored guards typical of the Grand Castle to be here.

"So he's the one we're to kill, eh?" A guttural man spoke at his side.

Hawina glanced back to see who it was, recognizing the fellow Captain of the raiding vessels at dock. He frowned, disliking the brutish manners of the northerner. He was of deeply tanned skin, hair like black ropes on his head and a voice slurred with accent, all markers of a foreigner to the Mist Continent.

"That he is." Hawina replied.

"He looks like a twig 'ta me."

"His men aren't to be ignored, Captain, they'll get ugly if you move on 'em."

The northerner laughed, slapping his side. "They look ugly right now! What kinda men're covered in fuzz?"

"Burmecians, Captain. They're much stronger than they look."

"Heh, we'll see." He turned and walked away, heading for the smaller doors to the manor's kitchen.

"Tantars!" Hawina called.

The northerner looked back.

"Don't attack them 'less I give the orders to, you hear me?"

"I hear you." Tantars replied, passing through the door and out of sight.

Hawina grumbled, also distrusting of the raider Captain. As Mackenzie said, they were cutthroats who did anything for large sums of gil. He argued with the Duke long before they came, hoping to at least seek mercenaries from their own lands. These people, northerners who cared not for the laws of civilized society, would be a dagger at their neck as sharp as the one held by the Regent's speaker. He snorted in frustration, then walked for the armory to put in orders. The next days would be a trying time for them all.

> > >

Fedrich looked around them as they walked down the street leading away from the Manor, admiring the careful attention put onto the ornaments of the homes. Each house seemed a unique picture of the family that lived within, some covered in shells and others with old driftwood. Somehow he felt like he didn't belong in such a personal neighborhood, a figure alien to the populace. The other Burmecians and Lindblum soldiers looked equally as foreign, standing at the edge of an intersection and observing the people.

"Hey there, Mister Castor...I mean Sir Castor, Sir!" Eria waved as she shouted, hesitating only a moment at her slip in formality. She approached them with a grin on her face, apparently unaffected by the looks of the people as they glared. "So how did it go?"

"Well enough, miss Waterfang." Macky let a smug grin spread across his face. "The Duke thinks he has everything under control...ha! I broke that idea down first thing. He'll give in if he wants this to go smoothly."

Her smile stayed, but her expression showed little interest in the words. Her questions seemed asked only for the sake of making words. "Does he look dangerous, Sir Castor?"

"Not really." Fedrich replied. "And you can call me by my name, Eria. I don't like formalities much."

"Oh! Alrighty then, Fedrich."

Diamante stepped forward, looking serious as ever. He had one ear cocked to the size, fingers close enough to the lance at his back to show he wasn't willing to let his guard down. Fedrich didn't blame him. The entire city was poised to be the center of a tax revolt, and being allied with the Regent was a risky thing to do. "So what are your impressions about this Duke's intent?"

"He sounds serious about this. Apparently he has raiding ships from the north in his docks."

"Raiders?" Diamante repeated the word as if it wasn't believable. "Here?"

"Yes. The Duke claims they are here to trade, but I don't believe that for a second. He must have hired them to give him an edge in a fight."

"That would make sense. I haven't seen a lick of normal men on patrol at all, and the people look pretty meek to take up arms and do battle. Any estimate on their numbers?"

Fedrich shook his head. "Could be a few dozen, maybe hundreds."

"I saw at least ten northern vessels at dock." Macky grunted. "Those ships can hold a hundred men easy. We could be looking at thousands if they're bringing everyone who can lift a blade."

That statement made sober the soldiers and knights, Macky deep in thought. "We need to go down there and see what we're facing."

"But what if those raiders..."

Fedrich glanced at Eria, the girl showing her fears across her face. A warrior and knight in training she was, but was also a woman and still in her growing years. Such words he wouldn't tolerate from someone of his own age, but hers were founded on an already emotional standing. The unspoken question wasn't something he could hold against her.

"Don't think about it." He replied calmly, looking her in the eyes. "We're knights of Burmecia, trained to fight any enemy. What can pirates and seamen do against the Dragon Knights, elite of the elite?"

"Not a damn thing!" Diamante added, looking his students firmly. "You have every right to be scared, but I won't have you panic when it comes down to swords! You'll fight...honor as a Dragon Knight comes before everything, fear of death and pain or any horror of society's wicked mind! Do you understand?"

"Yessir!" The three trainees shouted.

"Right." He looked to Fedrich. "Well then, Mister Castor, what shall we do?"

Fedrich looked at the sky, seeing the blue shifting to orange and red as the sun fell towards the sea. It wasn't very late, but he felt a certain amount of fatigue pulling at his limbs. The thought of his duties would ensure a difficult number of days ahead. "We'll break for supper and get our rooms. Sleep will be a rarity come tomorrow."

Everyone silently agreed, following the Dragon Knight as he made for their Inn.

Said Inn was reputable enough, bearing rooms for them all on the third of four levels. The keeper didn't seem keen on letting soldiers of the Regent stay, but accepted them grudgingly at the reason of additional coins in hand. Arrangements made for the knights on one end, soldiers on the other with Macky in the center. Caution again made the choice, any potential ne'er do well having to sneak by easily woken men at arms to get to the Inquisitor. Macky wasn't worried, putting faith on a population that wouldn't do anything so outrageous while under the eye of the Regent. Regardless, Fedrich placed one of the Lindblum soldiers in his room as protection from the few who might dare that risk.

The bulk of their material at rest, they separated for evening meals, seeking out familiar dishes and smells. Again they encountered that look of distrust, but were served with forced courtesy. It seemed the people were content to merely glare, dark thoughts crossing their minds but unfulfilled. Fedrich returned some of those stares with his own jade eyes, always winning the contest of dueling wills. It occurred to him that this must be the same thing that Ruthy felt in Burmecia, eyes searing and branding her an outsider. In his own heart he understood her troubles a little better.

The evening sky took a deep purple hue, and the people of Coral Cove began the process of rolling in their shops and goods, preparing for the night. Fedrich was close to turning in when a knock at his private room door startled him. He moved to call out the guest's intent when the door opened, Winston slipping inside with little care to announce himself.

"Can I help you?" Fedrich asked, unsure as to why the unruly youth would come to him at nightfall.

"I did some looking." Winston began, crossing his arms and standing at the doorway. His expression seemed serious, lacking the arrogance and cocky glares common to his face. For a moment you could mistake the teen for someone years older, bearing burdens years heavier. "The docks are crawling with pirates."

Fedrich's expression turned serious as well. "How many?"

"Seventeen ships, all state of the line. Professional work for raiders."

"You think it means something?"

"Duke Peradin is known for his work in the north. Maybe his charity comes at a price, like brigands to man those ships."

Fedrich considered the idea. He didn't profess to have much knowledge of the Duke's workings, but this rang perfectly with his type of lifestyle. Invest in things that will bear a greater return in the end, something everyone will benefit from, something simple and uncomplicated. Building ships in return for their loyalty. This had the markings of a revolution in full.

"You're sure of that number?"

"I counted them as I walked." The youth repeated. "Thousands of them at the least. I thought you should know..."

"Dammit." Fedrich swore, mentally considering how to combat those odds. Even skill had a limit, not when it couldn't stop even a child from plunging a knife into their exhausted bodies.

"Well?" Winston prodded.

"...I'll keep it in mind."

"Alright." Winston turned and opened the door, pausing a moment in the doorjamb. He looked back with that sneer he bore when the two first met. "So she's really your mate, is she?"

"Huh? You mean Ruthy?"

"Of course."

Fedrich looked him in the eye. "Yes she is. I love her, Winston, even if she is human."

"...Sick."

"Why?" Fedrich snapped. "What's wrong with love between two sentient beings?"

"Because she's human, you fool!" He growled back. "I don't understand it, and I don't want to. You do whatever you like, but know this; I don't like it. I will never approve of it, and never will approve of you. I'll follow orders, but nothing more."

Winston closed the door, cutting off any argument Fedrich could start to defend himself. The silence left was deafening, clouding his mind. He shivered, then sat heavily on the mattress of his bed. The knowledge of thousands of enemies in the very streets he tread was scary. However, he felt a pit in his soul even deeper from the fear and anger within that young Burmecian's words. What to fear more, he considered, the enemy without, or the enemy within?

The Author Speaks!

And now you see that negotiations aren't exactly the only thing that's on the mind of our dear hero. What's a person to do when you're surrounded by thousands of faceless enemies and troubled by your own allies? Hopefully I'll be able to give some more splotlight time to the three students working alongside Fedrich and Diamante, as they've been little more than extra names to remember. Trust me, they'll be valued allies in the long run, albeit maybe not pleasent to be around.