A/N (Aroihkin's Notes) / Chapter originally written on 07.20.2004. Re-polished on 01.12.2006 for the arowrites dot net archives.

Review-replies can be found now on arowrites dot net.

Formatting repaired on 04.13.2010 -- thanks, ffnet, for eating all my scene-dividers sometime in the last four years!

05.02.2010: All scene-dividers have been eaten, again, on all of my stories. I give up. Please just go read this story on arowrites dot net where it hasn't been made incoherent; I am unable to keep up with this site's stupidity.

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Requiem for the Dream
( entry 07: deception's echo )

Ramirez managed to unfold his story in his usual efficient and crisp manner, thankful that the hysteria did not stir and awaken. It did not even come when he arrived at the point in which the blond officer next to him had slain his own brother... over personal gain. Ramirez was, after all, in the presence of Lord Galcian--and that seemed to quell even the strongest of his... less than sane moments.

Calming, was the word he found mentally. Lord Galcian had a calming effect on him--for now that his Lord knew of the full situation... everything would be fine. Right? Surely steps would be taken to eradicate this... worsening of the human nature, before it could spread. And if something whispered to Ramirez that the rest of the world had long since been infected, well, he didn't listen to it.

To think such a thing was to suggest that Lord Galcian had somehow been -worse- for Arcadia...

No. He wouldn't allow such clearly false notions to trouble him. If the people of Esperanza were so vile, it was surely only because his Lord had not yet taken complete control of the city. And if they were beyond redemption; it was only further proof that the world could never become... clean... without his Lord's iron rule to guide it.

"--My Lord, I believe we should destroy Esperanza," Ramirez finally concluded aloud, "...military and all."

"Hmm..." Lord Galcian leaned forward slightly in his seat in thought. He resisted drumming his fingers; a habit long-ago formed. Before he had assumed full power of the world he had rarely been seated, -especially- with matters of importance, for he had never been above taking things into his own hands to ensure that they were done right.

These days, however, he often stayed in Soltis--restlessly pacing his study when he was not dealing with reports in this room. Lord Galcian had accomplished his life-long goal... he had become the most powerful being in all of Arcadia. Further, Zelos assured that not only did he own every single live thing on his world... but the moons as well.

And through them? The very elements.

But now that he had... everything...

He had assessed the possibilities and come to a conclusion. One dark eyebrow arched slightly as he regarded the young man before him, expression unsurprised. The Silvite had always been rather idealistic, and somewhat foolish in the light of his ideals. One could even go so far as to say that Ramirez's ethics blinded him. Fortunately, he was ever easy to control.

"Esperanza has become quite a large city, and a valuable resource." Lord Galcian finally spoke deliberately, leaning back once again into his seat, "Ramirez--you would have me destroy the entire city, simply because the people there have... offended you?"

In reply, the Silvite lowered his eyes, face flushing slightly with sudden shame. Was that why?

Was he in fact letting his typical Silvite standards for the world get in his way, impair his judgement? He had absolutely no right to second guess his Lord, the only correct and incorruptible man in all of Arcadia. The incident with Admiral Mendosa so many years previous had proven as much, but yet...

"I apologize, my Lord." Ramirez murmured softly, bowing low in respect... his newly-blackened hair entirely hiding his glance at Wren.

But yet... what did a man tolerate, allow to breed and infect, once he had everything--simply to keep from losing anything? Would a man such as Lord Galcian allow the world to fester... all in the name of power? Would... would he have discarded his original intent to destroy the weak and lead only the strong--in the face of more potential power?

Ramirez hesitated only a moment before he firmly turned his back on such disturbing thoughts, putting them in a mental box and closing the lid, and so he awaited his new orders in silence.

The man in question watched his closest servant for another long moment, dark eyes thoughtful and brooding. Ramirez, it seemed, would need to be taught--no--reminded that the Arcadians deserved no sympathy from him. Perhaps wishing to destroy the city was not in itself an act of empathy--but it was closer than his Silvite usually came to such a thing.

And, to be honest, he had not liked the shimmer of anger and... hurt, that had been present--if only barely--in the jade green eyes as his report was given. No, Lord Galcian could read Ramirez better than any, and this 'Ben' stranger had somehow gotten under the Silvite's armor--if only just a little. His death had surely opened a crack, letting in the other polluted things Ramirez had seen and experienced in the city of abandoned hope.

It was time to remind him of his own loyalty, before another incident such as over the Ixa'takan slaves occurred, all those years ago.

/ "Lord Galcian! How can you treat the Ixa'takans like this! It's despicable!"

The Admiral had paused, nearly mid-step, and turned his head just enough to view a young officer in training lunging after him like a wild dog. The only thing keeping the foolish whelp from trying to tackle him to the floor on the spot, was a ship doctor holding him back... barely... /

"I am pleased that you were able to find out so much of the true situation, Ramirez. I will send you notice of your next assignment." Lord Galcian said abruptly. He made a dismissive gesture with one hand, and then watched as the Silvite and the four guards turned and left. The guards were likely heading for the transport pads, and Ramirez for his quarters to await his next set of orders.

"Wren, I have a job for you." The Lord of Arcadia said after a long moment, waiting until the doors had long since closed again, "I cannot have Ramirez faltering, I believe it is time to remind him that I am the only one he may rely on."

"Yes, my Lord." Wren said respectfully.

"But first, of course, -your- report on Esperanza..."

The Silvite did not target his quarters, but rather he found himself opening the door to one of the main gardens nearby. He hadn't given his destination any thought until after he'd stepped inside, whereupon Ramirez found himself blinking--staring at a vine coiled along the lip of a small fountain. He sat down abruptly on one of the scattered benches, bending over his overall-covered knees. Frowning, the Admiral ran both un-gloved hands through his onyx hair once as he stared thoughtfully at the floor between his feet.

Coming the rest of the way to his senses, he immediately decided not to stay long--but not to leave just yet either. His new orders would likely be sent to his quarters, which was of course the most logical place to find him, and the less a messenger had to look for him the safer the message itself would be. Besides, back in familiar surroundings, the general filth and disrepair of his factory clothes was beginning to make itself more known to him by the moment.

Valua had come and gone like a bad dream, and yet he still wore his uniform from those days... still kept it clean and in perfect repair. It was simply a long-formed habit, and without any real uniforms being assigned to him in the new era he had found his old look to be comfortingly familiar. That very tradition had made this most recent identity much easier--for even those that had seen him before in person did not recognize him. Not without his usual uniform, silver hair, and wickedly jagged sword...

A good thing, too, because he was still fairly well known in Esperanza.

/ "You people are being taught a lesson." he had said coldly, standing just inside the gates of the city--for no one had bothered to close them, "The same lesson as the rest of your wretched world. The sooner you learn, the sooner things will be better for you." /

"Your wretched world." the Silvite repeated softly aloud, still staring intently at the floor.

/ Amusing that I first said those words to them, and now they use them so very often... /

Ramirez managed to chuckle a little at the irony, but it rang false.

"Well, well, and what do we have here?" that voice, with its distinctively near-monotone quality and chill tone. It was immediately identifiable, and as such Ramirez didn't bother to look up even as the sound of footsteps came to a halt before him. "I thought that weeds in gardens were supposed to be disposed of, but, it is clear that I was mistaken."

Remaining firmly seated on the bench, Ramirez finally lifted his head from his hands. He craned his neck to look up--taking in the uniform of the one before him with clear disinterest. Nothing about this woman's appearance ever seemed to change.

Her monochromatic uniform was always impeccably clean and free of wrinkles, her pitch black hair was always pulled back in a severe bun, and her skin--pale as though she never walked under the sun--was always as clean as though she had just scoured it.

The only things that had any color to her were her eyes, and the plain pendant clasped tight at her throat. All three were simply points of blazing orange-gold amber set in a background of cold winter. He felt she rather looked like a corpse, minus the eyes and the pendant--or perhaps she was a corpse possessed.

"Admiral Jones," Ramirez replied to the coroner before him, jade green meeting orange gold with unflinching malice, "I suppose that means you had best remove yourself."

"Touché, Admiral Ramirez," she replied lightly, sketching a wholly sarcastic curtsey, "but hardly gentlemanly."

Megan Jones was the second Admiral of the new order, and as power-hungry as any. She had been a doctor in New Soltis at first, and Lord Galcian had discovered her true talents by accident when she had been asked to 'treat' a prisoner.

Ramirez didn't know exactly how much cutting open the human body could withstand without dying, but he had a feeling that Jones knew it down to a science. The woman was excellent at ripping the information straight out of a person--literally, if need be--and had absolutely no ethics that he had ever seen. Bring her anyone, male or female, young or old, and she would have the guards pin them down while she retrieved her scalpels from their case--always strapped to her left boot.

Jones couldn't fight, she couldn't cast anything but the most basic spells, and she had absolutely no use for sailing. But--there was a certain chill advantage to sending her into any situation, for the orders would be carried out to the letter and woe betide anyone--so much as a child--that stepped in her way. Ramirez would have long since killed her himself, were it not that she was as loyal to Lord Galcian as he had ever been.

"I would hardly consider you a lady, Admiral Jones." he finally growled, clearly annoyed. Loyal to his Lord she may be, but that hardly meant he enjoyed her company.

"Losing your temper already?" the sweet smile--one he knew to always be a sure sign of danger--curved upon her thin lips, a predator toying with her food. "A shame, we have -so- much catching up to do."

"We've nothing to 'catch up' on." Ramirez said, standing up abruptly. "Now, if you'll excuse me--"

And with that scant bit of warning he purposefully shouldered her aside. The Admiral found himself smirking coldly at the outraged gasp that followed him as he strode out of the gardens--his rather filthy civilian clothing having left a most amusing signature on her uniform.

/ She'll immediately go change clothes, too, and might even have that set burned. / Ramirez thought, amusement overpowering his annoyance at being driven from the gardens. / If there is one thing Jones hates worse than people and dirt, it's being touched by dirty people. She hates contact much worse than even -I- do, which gives me a clear tactical advantage. /

And the smirk grew, just a bit.

...It was fortunate for the new armada that their first and second Admirals were rarely both in the same place at the same time.

The Silvite came around the gradual circle of the outer palace and finally was within sight of his chambers. There, a very nervous looking messenger waited, literally wringing his hands as he stared anxiously at the door.

/ Are people truly that scared of me? /

But he stifled the thought as fast as it had come. Of -course- they were, he was so often the instrument of Lord Galcian's will. He'd beheaded more than one suspected traitor in the ranks, often without any warning. And that, understandably, made him a little disconcerting to deal with no matter how loyal the one doing the dealing.

The fact that it took only a mere suspicion on his behalf to separate their head from their shoulders tended to have that effect. That and the way his sword could appear in his hand out of seemingly nowhere.

"Yes?" Ramirez finally said, slowing to a halt. He watched the courier with a raised eyebrow, completely forgetting for the moment that he only vaguely resembled his usual self. The Silvite held out his un-gloved hand for the envelope--barely visible--protruding from inside the messenger's jacket.

"Um, I'm waiting for--" the messenger paused here, staring at Ramirez's sharp jade green eyes. He -knew- the Admiral was supposed to be around here, and in looking for him he was presented with 'James' instead. However, he made the connection where a whole city had failed... for no one in Esperanza had been looking for the Silvite in specific--and so his guise had worked flawlessly there. "...Admiral Ramirez! Is that you?"

A single, silent nod.

"Oh thank the Moons, I was really worried I'd have to try and find you--I knocked several times and you weren't answering--" pause, stammer, "--of course you weren't, Sir, because you weren't -in- there... but I'm really glad I didn't have to try and find you anyway, because I was told that you're awfully difficult to track dow--"

"The letter, please." Ramirez sighed, cutting off the man's nervous rambling. Finally the envelope was produced and handed to him before-- bowing deeply and looking much like the mouse running from the cat, the messenger fled.

/ Idiot. / the Silvite thought, stepping into his chambers as he broke the seal on the envelope.

Inside was another sharply-folded bit of paper with that familiar, angular handwriting. Jade green eyes scanned the unfolded parchment more than once, not fully comprehending, before the new destination truly set in. With the realization of where 'James' would go next, a sudden wave of nausea forced Ramirez to hastily find a seat--pulling out the single chair from the nearby desk with a scrape of wood on stone and sitting down abruptly.

'This time you will observe our military, and sniff out what traitors that you can.' The writing seemed to repeat, in the form of Lord Galcian's strong voice in his mind. 'You will be a new soldier, fresh out of training, by the same name and identity you chose for your last mission.'

He'd do it unquestioningly, of course. But... Moons... why there?

Couldn't Lord Galcian send Admiral Jones? She was a superb actress, far better at deceit than he. She was practically another Admiral Belleza--save that she held that pure, cold malice at her core that seemed to seep into all guises.

/ He does not trust her like he does me. / Ramirez reminded himself, scolding/ I am the only one he has sent on these missions. I should be honored to be even -this- useful to my Lord. /

Of course he was, but, the Admiral still couldn't help but feel... ill. The written orders slipped to the floor from nerveless fingers, momentarily forgotten, as Ramirez contemplated his own memories of over ten years past.

And meanwhile in the throne room, the aspiring officer named Wren bowed and exited. His destination was the same as that of the oblivious Silvite, but his orders were vastly different...

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Skies of Arcadia Legends belongs to someone else.
All here that is not found in the canon... is mine.
Never steal if you value your spleen.