What do you guys have to thank for this chapter getting up? Guilt and an unplanned school cancellation. What don't you have to thllhwelaaaaa…
Dart: -Comes over and reads the above message. He frowns, then turns to look at Shade who is sitting perched on the edge of her bed with a PS2 controller in hand- Shade? You said you were working on this!
Shade: -Brain has been sucked out by Star Ocean: TTEOT, so she continues to stare at the screen, mashing buttons like a zombie- Ne?
Dart: You didn't even make it through the author's note, you lazy wench!
Shade: -Cannot move, on account of the fact that her entire body is cramped into position-
Yup. Shade's found a new addiction. Another one. Actually, I'm kind of disappointed with myself. I only managed to put 34 hours of saved gameplay (probably 38, if you count all the unsaved blunders) on it in four or five days. –smacks self- Bad Shade. I suppose school does get in the way, but still…
Alright… onto the obligatory answer section:
Dark Guradian Dragon: Lessee…how did this go? Oh yes. In the immortal words of Shike77, NO WORSHIPPING! :P Makes me paranoid, it does.
Dragonlord- Three beginnings? Oh yes. I baby this story. Incidentally, there was a similar escapade this chapter as well. O.o Wraiths? The wraiths are mindless, soulless creatures that don't particularly belong in the realm of the dead, so whenever possible, they look for a way to slip into the world of the living. Since Mayfil is…I'll say 'broken' for lack of a better term…they're finding ways to slip out into Endiness. Fortunately for the dragoons and co., they seem to be content stripping the mountains bare around the dead city. They shouldn't be venturing out into the populated continent…yet.
Namiel- An AU sidestory where Ark ran around killing the sailors in their beds? I'm sure Ark would love it, but I think I'll stick with the planned sidestories. I've got enough alternate directions this story could go swimming around in my head at the moment; any more, and my head might go BANG.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Solana's POV:
I took a sip of tea, frowning over the rim of the cup at the dusty volume I held propped up against my knees. No, that can't be right. Annoyed, I flipped back a page or two, careful not to damage the crackling sheets of parchment. There, halfway down the page. Setting down my tea, I picked up the ancient book in both hands, squinting slightly as I struggled to make out the faded script. It was an old copy of The Assorted Histories of Endiness- so old that hardly anyone ever bothered to take it down off of the shelf any more, for fear it might come apart in their hands. However…
A strand of hair fell across my eyes, and I reached up to tuck it back behind my ear. Nowadays, most books to be obtained with information concerning the Moon Temples had a definite bias, thanks to aspiring authors trying to work their way into the favor of the priests. If one really wanted to find the real story, they had to look through books like these, written before the Temple's rise to power.
I scanned through the paragraph, reading it aloud to myself as I went. "The Cult of the Moon Child, more commonly known today as the Temple of the Moon Child, has enjoyed a substantial period of growth over the past few decades. Originally founded by a group of Tiberoian evangelists, the Temples are fiercely dedicated to the protection of the Moon Child and the furthering of the ideals and purpose that the Child stands for. Though to date, no known child has ever survived the ravages of the Black Monster, the Temples have risen to a considerable stature, and many speculate that it may one day rival or surpass the power and influence of the other major religions of Endiness."
I lowered the book to my knees again. It was hand-written, unlike the books appearing in shops during the past ten years, which had been printed by giant wooden type presses. This book was far from new; it was in fact a copy of another, older version of a book taken from the National Library of Mille Seseau.
'Still,' I thought, re-reading the paragraph again, 'Most of the books written now aren't even halfway as interesting. And that bit about the 'cult' of the Moon Child…' I frowned. Why did that sound so familiar?
With a sigh I closed the book, resting one hand on the cracked leather cover. I didn't really have any reason to be plowing through old volumes like this one; after a near-sleepless night spent tossing and turning next to a snoring Cai, my eyes felt dry and sore. Reading certainly didn't help matters any in that respect. But I needed something to keep my mind from dwelling on tonight's plans; Soa knew, last night's insomnia had provided me with more than enough time to fret over that. And so I had spent the morning holed up in my private library, settled in an overstuffed armchair pulled close to the unlit fireplace that occupied the far corner of the little room.
I looked around fondly. The 'library' might have been better described as a study, but habit born from growing up in a very large house in the middle of Fletz dictated that it was, in fact, a library. My library, if truth were told; the only time that I ever saw Cai pick up a book was to use it as a coaster for his mug of tea. Most of the books here had been taken from my family's considerable collection, although over the years I had managed to accumulate a fair number on my own. Standing on shelves and stacked on tables, there was no real order to their arrangement; humor sat beside history and medical texts could often be found beside folded maps and epic romances. The shelves were arranged against the walls, and the center of the room was occupied by short, waist-high bookcases and a solid oak table that could hardly be seen for the mess of paper that covered it. The floor was bare of carpets and rugs, save for the small woven mat that lay at the foot of my armchair, next to the bare hearth of the cold fireplace. It was comfortable, in a close sort of way, and on days when the dust wasn't bad enough to bother me, I would often enter early in the morning and not come out until late at night.
I smiled to myself as I got to my feet to put the book away. If Cai thought it was odd, he never mentioned it. After all, he spent much of his time down in the stables, overseeing the training of this or that young animal.
I had just slipped my book back onto its place on the shelf when there was a light tap on the door. "It's open," I called, wiping my hands on my skirt. The dust was getting thick again; I'd have to speak to the maids about having the room aired out.
Kaelin slipped quietly into the room, closing the door again behind her. "Morning, Solana. Cai told me you'd probably be in here."
"He must be psychic." I smiled again, folding my arms over my chest. "Did you sleep well?"
"Passably." Kaelin shrugged. "With all of this travelling, I think my body's forgotten what a real bed feels like. I ended up sleeping on the floor. You?"
"Not too badly," I lied. "I had a lot on my mind."
She made a face. "I know what you mean. I saw Zion walking around when I went to get a bun from the kitchens this morning; he looks like a zombie. He'll probably find some out of the way place later on though and doze for a bit. He never looses sleep for long."
"That's good. So the rooms were to your liking?"
"They were fine. Ahh, do you mind if I look around for a bit?" Kaelin asked, gesturing at the shelves. "There's something that's been bothering me."
"Oh?" I waited for her to elaborate, but all she did was give a vague 'thanks' before heading to the nearest shelf, running her fingers over the spines as she read the titles quietly to herself.
Returning to my chair, I picked up my cup and took another sip of tea. It was starting to cool off. I'd have to have another pot made soon. I sipped at it again, then changed my mind and drained it all in one gulp. I didn't like cold tea anyway.
When we'd arrived late last night, the house had awoken in a flurry of activity. Cai and I had been absent for nearly a month; during that time several of our servants had left, though Ira and Mosa, the two heads of house, had kept them from taking anything with them. Somehow, between staving off questions, making excuses and giving orders to the staff, we'd managed to get everyone settled into their rooms with a meal and a hot bath. No one had mentioned our plans for tonight, not even between ourselves. Personally, I was thankful. The time for action would come soon enough; no need to dwell on the matter until then.
A knock came at the door again, though this time the caller entered of their own accord. Maria was a thin stick of a woman, lean as a rail while at the same time taller than most men were. Her iron-grey hair was braided and coiled about her temples like a coronet, but it did nothing to soften the hard, angular lines of her face. She dipped a perfunctory curtsy in my direction, not a hair lower than my rank dictated she must, before clearing her throat and speaking.
"My lady, there's someone here from the capitol to see you. I told her your ladyship was still recovering from your journey, but she insists that it's urgent." Maria glanced sideways at Kaelin, noticing her for the first time. "I don't think it would be wise to keep her waiting."
I rose to my feet. "A messenger? Already?"
Maria nodded. "Your family in Fletz was concerned about your absence, so we sent a message out to them last night shortly after you arrived. I assume that this is related, somehow."
"You assume. Where is the messenger waiting?" I started across the room to the door.
"Olan had her wait in the sitting room next to your apartments. Should I have refreshments prepared?" She asked, holding the door open for me as I passed.
"Please." I stopped and turned around. "Kaelin? Feel free to look around as long as you want, but please be careful. Some of the older volumes haven't been touched for some time, and they may be quite fragile."
Kaelin looked up from the book she held open in one hand, her other resting on the edge of the bookshelf. "Hmm? Oh, yeah. Sure. Enjoy yourself."
"I'm sure," I murmured, stepping out the door into the hall.
The sitting room where the messenger awaited me was at the north end of the house, so I dismissed Maria to the kitchens and headed there alone. It didn't take long to reach it; situated at the far end of the third floor, it adjoined to a balcony looking over the mountains to the east. The messenger was waiting for me when I entered, a young woman of perhaps twenty or so.
"My Lady Solana," the messenger said politely, rising smoothly from her chair to greet me. "I hope I didn't pull you away from anything too urgent."
"Nothing that I can't deal with later," I replied, studying the other woman as she settled back into her seat. Tall and solid, with long red hair pulled back from her face in a loose braid, there was a slight angularity and natural tan to her features that marked her as an immigrant from Rouge. Her dark breeches and knee-high boots were stained with dust from travel, and her scarlet blouse was creased with wear. She had been riding hard, then. "And you would be…?"
"Amaya, my Lady." Her voice was low and husky, and she spoke in precise, clipped tones. "I don't normally serve out of the castle Fletz, but my master saw fit to lend me to the Queen for this task."
"I see." Behind me the sitting room door was bumped open and Maria entered, carrying a tray of candied fruits and tea. She set it carefully on the table between us before bobbing a curtsy and leaving, leaving the door open a crack as she left. Pouring myself a cup of tea, I pushed the tray toward Amaya. "The Queen's work? I assume this is a summons, then."
She waved the tray away. "Her majesty wishes to have an audience with you and your lord husband tonight. I was told nothing, but I assume that this concerns the…unfortunate events surrounding the loss of the Temple's wind dragoon. She would have you in the audience chamber during the third hour after sundown, but I would advise arriving early. Her majesty has become decidedly interested in the matter, and she may choose to see you earlier." Amaya leaned back in her chair, pushing a handful of flyaway strands back from her eyes.
"Really." I took another sip. "For a messenger, you seem to know quite a bit about the goings on in the higher levels of the court."
The other woman shrugged. "It's not difficult, if you know how to keep your ears open and listen." She shifted. "Would my Lady be offended if I were to speak frankly?"
I smiled wryly. "I think you'd find that it takes quite a bit to offend me nowadays, Amaya. Go ahead, speak your mind."
She inclined her head. "Thanks." She said, dropping the formal tone she had been using before. "Over the past few weeks, your absence in the court has become something of a point of interest among the other courtiers. If I were you, I'd watch myself."
Watch myself? To cover my confusion, I reached for an apple slice. "I'm afraid I don't understand, Amaya. I don't have anything to hide."
"Indeed." Her face remained impassive, but I thought I saw something flicker behind her pale grey eyes. "Even so, one month is a long time for an unexplained absence. Whether there was anything to it or not, some people will see something in it. Besides," she added, reaching down to pick up her cloak from where it lay on the floor before getting to her feet, "we all have our little secrets. It would be a shame if someone were to stumble across something you'd rather keep in the dark. Now, if you'll excuse me. I've been away from my duties at the palace for too long." She dipped her head, a gesture that came closer to a bow than a curtsy. "By your leave, my lady." And with that she swept out of the room, settling her cloak about her shoulders as she left.
I sat staring at the table without seeing, listening to the sound of her footsteps fading away down the hall. My mouth had gone dry; I suddenly felt as though someone had poured hot desert sand on my tongue. She knew. Dear gods, she knew.
It took me a moment to snap out of my daze. Setting down my cup of tea, I looked down at my hands. They were shaking. Wishing they would stop, I reached for a scrap of paper and a pen sitting on the edge of the table and began scribbling a hasty message. "Maria," I called, relieved to find my voice steady. "Maria!"
The maid appeared in the doorway. "My lady?"
"I need you to send this to Gail Vidal immediately." …this evening. I'll be in the palace, I wrote. Finishing the message, I waved the scrap of paper around in the air to dry the ink. "Use one of Cai's birds to deliver it. And have someone find Master Ry and send him here. Tell him it's urgent. Understand?"
"Perfectly, my Lady." Taking the message from my outstretched had, she bobbed a curtsy and was gone, leaving me alone in the sitting room.
With a sigh that verged on a groan, I leaned back in my chair. Vidal had taken care of…delicate matters for my family for decades. If anyone could root out who this Amaya really was, it would be him. Still… I rubbed my temples with my fingertips, wishing that Maria would hurry up and find Ry.
Things were not looking up at all.
Zion's POV:
The sun was high overhead, beating down on the courtyard like a fiery hammer. My boots scuffed the dusty ground as I slouched across it, keeping my eyes downcast rather than look at the buildings around me. They had all been whitewashed to help keep out the sun's heat, but the thick white mortar reflected back the sun's light with an intensity that made my eyes ache to look. Here and there stable boys and servants lounged in the shade under the overhanging roofs of the lower buildings, enjoying their midday meal and a brief respite from the heat. The quiet drone of conversation filled the air, a lazy murmur to my ears. Even here in Tiberoa, where there was no such thing as winter, or even real cold, the heat of midday seemed to slow all activity to a crawl.
I yawned, and lifted my eyes slightly to see where I was headed. The stable. 'As good a place as any,' I decided. Last night hadn't been an easy one, and the relentless heat made my eyelids droop. At least now I was sure I was tired enough that as long as I could find an out of the way place to lie down and rest, I could get some decent sleep without a whirlwind of nervous thoughts keeping me awake. We weren't due to leave for several hours yet, in the very least, so I had enough time to get some sleep.
The shadow of the stable's peaked roof fell across my path, and the midday warmth retreated somewhat. The large double doors of the building had been thrown open hopes of tempting in a breeze, and the heavy scent of horses and hay hung heavy on the air. Inside it was shady and cool, a broad aisle lined on either side by large wooden stalls. Birds flitted through the rafters overhead, watched by a large yellow barn cat that followed their every movement avidly with wide green eyes.
I straightened up a little bit. There were no stable hands to be seen; they were all outside enjoying their lunch with the other servants. There was, however, a slim ladder at the far end of the barn that looked to lead up into the hayloft that was built atop the rafters. Fighting back another yawn, I started down the row towards it.
"I couldn't bother you for a bit of help, could I?"
I started, swearing. A young woman with long red hair stood in the shadows of the stall I had just passed, strapping a halter on the head of a large dun horse that had backed himself into the corner of the stall. Snapping a lead onto the animal, she glanced back over her shoulder at me. "The door. Could you get it? He'll throw a fit if it swings shut on him when I take him out."
I blinked. "Uh…sure." Pulling the door open, I held it until she had lead the horse through. Shutting it again, I turned around only to find her standing in front of me, offering me the end of the rope.
"Hold him a minute, would you?" Thrusting the lead into my hands, she disappeared down the aisle into a side room that had been set apart from the other stalls.
I looked down at the lead rope, then up at the horse, which had turned his head to regard me with one flat, unfriendly eye. 'She must think I'm one of the stable boys,' I realized. She couldn't be one of Solana's servants, then. So who…?
The woman reappeared, carrying a heavy saddle with a bridle slung over her shoulder. "Watch him while I tack him. Giro has an evil temper, and he likes to bite a bit sometimes." She hefted the saddle, preparing to sling it over the animal's back. Giro, the horse, rolled his eyes back to watch her, pinning his ears against the crest of his neck.
"Hey!" I protested, taking a step back. "Shouldn't you get one of the stable boys? I don't even-"
"-Don't even work here, yes, I know." She lowered the saddle to rest on her foot and turned to face me. "As a rule, the Lady Solana only employs locals. You're too tall to be a Tiberoian, and your skin's too fair besides." She put one slim hand on her hip, looking me up and down. My skin prickled and I looked away, uncomfortable under the intensity of that pale eyed stare.
Giro snorted and tried to push past me, shoving my chest hard with his shoulder. Glad for the distraction, I grabbed him by the halter and wrestled him back into position while I tried to think up an excuse. "I…I met up with them last night. I was lost out in the barrens, and they offered me a place to stay for the night." Giro bared his teeth at me and I jerked on the lead sharply, watching his large, flat teeth warily. When he seemed to have settled down again, I looked back at the woman. "I'm not really comfortable staying around here, though. Soon as I get the chance, I'm continuing on to Fletz."
"Really." She cocked her head to one side. "What's your name, if you'll allow me to ask."
I shrugged. "You just did," I replied lightly, but an alarm had gone off in the back of my mind. Why should she care what my name was? Of course, she was probably just curious, but there was something about the way she was looking at me that was making me nervous. "My name? It's …uh, it's Reon. Reon Aldas." I busied myself with the lead rope again, not trusting myself to look her directly in the eye. Would she fall for it?
For a moment I was sure that she wouldn't. Had I hesitated too long? But then she spoke, repeating the name slowly, as though trying it out. "…Reon." Unexpectedly, one corner of her mouth twitched upward in a half smile. "I like that." Bending over, she hefted the saddle up into her arms again. "My name's Amaya, if you're interested. I'm a messenger from Fletz."
"A messenger?" Giro started to take another step forward as the weight of the saddle settled onto his back, and I set my weight against the lead shank to hold him in place. Just a messenger, then. I relaxed a little bit. Only a bit, though.
"Yes." Reaching under the horse's belly, she caught the girth and pulled it up, buckling it onto the billets underneath the saddle flap. "The Queen's calling a session of the royal court later on this evening in the palace. I was delivering a summons to your hosts."
"Oh." I rubbed my forehead. "This evening?"
Amaya nodded, patting her horse's neck absently. "The Anlade's have been missed in the royal court of late. The other courtiers were starting to become curious about what could have been keeping them away from their duties."
I forced a laugh, although it sounded flat in my own ears. "They probably just felt like getting away from it all for a while. Courtiers or not, they're only human."
"Only human…" There was no change in her expression, but there was something about her voice that sent a chill like cold fingers down my spine. Then Amaya took the reins out of my hands and I stepped back out of the way, waiting for her to lead Giro out of the barn.
She didn't move. "You said that you were going to head to Fletz, yes? It wouldn't hurt for you to travel with the Anlades when they leave later on this afternoon. Lord Cai is more than capable of handling any of the monsters they'd be liable to encounter on the road, but it wouldn't hurt for them to have someone else watching their back, if you catch my meaning."
"Uh, yeah…I guess so." I scratched my head, trying to think of something to say. "You said you're from Fletz? Maybe I'll see you later." I almost grimaced. Jeez, that sounded corny. I mean, even if I had wanted to find her, the chances of finding one woman in an entire city full of people made the statement sound even more stupid. But if she thought so, or even cared, Amaya gave no sign.
"Perhaps," She said, the ghost of a smile chasing her features. Reaching up, she patted me lightly on the cheek with one slim hand. "Fletz, then. I look forward to meeting you again Reon Aldas. Whatever that might bring." And with that she was gone, leading her mount past me and out the door into the sunlight.
I stood in the center of the barn aisle, more than a little confused. '"Whatever that might bring"…What the hell did she mean by that?' I reached up and raked the hair back from my face. And patting me on the cheek like that…who in Soa's name was she anyway? Muttering to myself, I started toward the ladder again, hoping I still could find some time to sleep.
It was perhaps five minutes later that someone came rushing into the barn, boots drumming against the hard-packed earthen floor. I opened my eyes and rolled over to look down through the gap in the hayloft where the ladder stuck through the floor. Ry was looking into each of the stalls, muttering under his breath as he did so. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but judging from the dark expression he wore, I decided that I probably didn't want to. Pulling my head back out of the hole, I swung my feet around onto the ladder and began to climb down.
"Ry? Something up?"
"Zion?" Ry stopped by the stall that Amaya had taken her horse out of, and his frown deepened. "Did anyone come in here?"
I dropped to the barn floor. "A few minutes ago, yeah. Why?"
Ry growled something I didn't quite catch, then spoke in a normal tone. "Solana just had an audience with someone who claimed to be a messenger from Fletz. Whoever she was, she gave her a very blatant warning not to tell anyone what she might have been doing over the last few weeks."
"Amaya?" I said, surprised, and Ry gave me a sharp look.
"That's what she called herself. Was she here?"
"Yeah, like I said, a few minutes ago." I pointed to the stall. "She tacked up her horse and took off about five minutes before you came in."
This time, Ry's oath was clearly audible. "Wonderful. And I suppose she got a good look at you too, right?"
I nodded, unconsciously reaching up to touch the cheek that she'd patted so casually. Then I stopped, my fingertips lightly tracing the ragged paths of scar tissue that stretched from my brow to my chin. I swallowed, though the spit was like a leaden lump in my throat. If what Ry said was true…
Ry snorted and turned, speaking back to me over his shoulder. "Five minutes ago, you said?"
"What?" I let my hand fall. "Oh, yeah. About that long ago."
"Five minutes." He strode away, the hem of his cloak fluttering gently in his wake. "There still might be time, then."
"Ry?" I took a half step after him, then stopped. "What…?"
His long strides didn't falter. "Go back into the house and find the others. Either way, I shouldn't be long. We leave for Fletz as soon as I return, understand?"
I started to reply, but the words died on my tongue. Ry continued out the door into the sunlight and was gone, the heavy implications of his words lingering in his absence.
It didn't take long to find the others. Solana was in her apartments, looking slightly pale as she paced the length of the room. As nervous as she might have been though, she gave no indication of surprise when I repeated Ry's instructions to her. I found Kaelin lurking in a hallway on the bottom floor, looking unusually pensive and withdrawn as she fingered a thin scroll of embroidered cloth hanging from an otherwise bare wall. If something was troubling her, however, she made it clear that she wasn't about to share. She listened to me long enough to get the gist of the message and then was gone, leaving me alone to track down the last member of our little group.
I found Cai in an empty courtyard out back of the stables. This surprised me. The last place I had expected to find anyone was out under the heat of the sun, especially when everyone else had been so concerned with resting. Stripped to the waist with an axe in either hand, the burly Tiberoian was busily reducing a large burlap practice dummy to shreds in the center of the yard. He stepped back to take a breather as I approached, setting down his weapons and wiping sweat from his brow with the back of one grimy hand.
"'Afternoon."
He grunted and squinted at the sky. "Close enough, I suppose. What'd you bother coming out here for? I would have thought you'd be inside enjoying the shade."
"Speak for yourself." I reached down and plucked up one of his axes, hefting it. It was a light thing, the single head balanced by a downward curving spike opposite the blade. I turned it over in my hand, noting the worn leather strapping the haft and the dark, stained wood. Light, but well used. "You think you'll need these in Fletz?" I asked.
"You never know."
"Hey, I wasn't joking."
"Neither was I." Cai took the weapon back from me and held it out sideways in front of him, watching the sun gleam off the steel with some satisfaction. "I used to use these toys back when I was in the guard. It was always mandatory that we used lances while we were mounted, but once the shaft broke, I always ended up falling back on these."
"Both of them?" I glanced down at the second axe, resting at his feet.
Cai shrugged. "I'm a good rider. The horses we rode were trained off of the leg more so than the reins anyway. Almost all that we ever had to worry about were small pockets and gangs of robbers out in the barrens, so we usually spent more time running them down than fighting them."
"Ah. So that's why you're out here?"
"It never hurts to brush up on old skills." He picked up the other axe. "You didn't come out here for nothing, though. What's going on?"
I filled him in as briefly as I could about Solana and Amaya, and Ry going after her. Cai listened patiently at first, but his face darkened when I told him about Ry. "Damned fool," He muttered. "Does he actually think he can catch up to a horse on foot?"
I shrugged. "Sometimes I wonder if even Ry himself knows what he's thinking. He's like two different people, sometimes. Oh, incidentally, as soon as he gets back, we're heading to Fletz. You might want to think about getting yourself ready."
Cai grunted and turned back to the dead-looking dummy. I tried not to let out my breath too loudly. Cai had never quite forgotten Ry's hard words back in the inn in Fueno, and though he seemed to have relaxed whatever grudge he might have had against me, he still grew grim at the mention of the swordsman's name.
"What about you?"
"What?" I looked up. Cai was squinting at me, measuring me up.
"You can't just walk into the palace like you are." He rubbed his unshaven chin with his thumb, thinking. "We'll have to get you in some armor if we're going to pass you off as a bodyguard. We don't customarily employ them, so you might get a few odd looks, but you'll be able to move around the palace easier after we dismiss you." Setting down his axes again, he retrieved his shirt from where it lay on the ground a short distance away. "Come on. We may as well do that now, while we have the time."
It was late afternoon before Ry returned. I met him as he was crossing the courtyard to the front door of the main building, shaking red dust from his clothes as he walked.
"Any luck?" I asked, coming out of the shadows of the doorway.
He grunted and brushed past me. "Is everyone ready? If we hang around here much longer, we're going to run out of time."
"Everyone's waiting upstairs. I was just on my way out to get the grooms to tack up our horses now."
"Good." Ry paused, looking me up and down. "You're planning on playing the bodyguard?"
"Yeah." I glanced down. I wore a padded leather jerkin, reinforced with steel plates and chain mail. Cai had had one of the more able servants fix a set of domed shoulder guards to the leather for a bit more protection, and once it was coupled with a set of leather gauntlets, it didn't fare too badly. "Cai let me raid their armory. There wasn't much, but I found enough."
"That's good. Did you find something to cover your face?"
I jerked my thumb over my shoulder. "I put it in one of the saddlebags. Speaking of which…"
He stepped around me and went through the door. "Right. You go get the horses ready. We won't be long."
Ry was true to his word. By the time the last of the horses had been tacked and lead into the yard they were there waiting, Ry talking seriously with Solana while Cai checked the girth of a tall chestnut horse I assumed belonged to him. Both of them were dressed in tailored green and gold finery; Solana wearing a long, sweeping court gown while Cai had changed into a wool coat and breeches, a poniard sheathed ceremoniously at his waist. His axes were hung in loops from the back of his saddle, bumping lightly against the sides of his horse when it moved. Kaelin stood a little off to one side, watching Ry with a speculative expression on her face. She hadn't changed her clothing one bit, I noted.
Solana looked up as I came over, holding the bottom of her skirt up off of the dusty ground with both hands. "You're ready?"
I reached up and adjusted my helm. It was a plain thing, a tad battered, but the flat cheek pieces and sloping nose guard hid my scars well enough. "Anytime."
We mounted and rode out, cantering down the narrow road leading to Fletz in a strung out line. Cai took the lead, his big chestnut's long strides eating away at the distance with Solana's smaller grey following on his heels. Kaelin came next, then Ry, the tattered hem of his faded coat snapping wildly behind him as he rode. I pounded along at the rear, seated on the heavyset dun that Cai had loaned me, a huge animal that I strongly suspected must have at one time been a charger. Though the sun had begun to sink down to meet the horizon with the onset of sunset, it was still painfully hit, and I was soon red-faced and sweating under the weight of my armor. And then the sun was gone, replaced by the blue-white light of the moon, unnaturally bright in the night sky. And still we continued on, alternating paces to conserve the horses.
This distance wasn't really all that great, but the natural terrain forced the road to twist this way and that to avoid treacherous ground, so the distance was doubled. By the time the road came out of the hills and onto the cracked plains, evening had been replaced by night. Fletz was visible now, a ethereal city of white stone rearing out of the bleak grey brown wasteland, dimly lit by the hazy light of thousands upon thousands of lamps and torches within the city walls.
We were about three miles outside of the city when Ry suddenly broke away from the group and ran off of the road, galloping his horse hard across country toward a low outcropping of rock jutting out of the earth about a mile from the road. I slowed my horse for a moment to watch his progress, then pushed forward again. He'd mentioned something earlier about creating a diversion that would keep the Moon Child from interfering while we went after the Temple's Dragoon, but hadn't said a word about what he had planned.
Grimly I leaned forward in the saddle, urging my mount on until I galloped along at Kaelin's stirrup. Whatever he had in mind, I hoped it was good. I really, really didn't want to find myself face to face with the Moon Child, whether our plan worked or not. Not that I didn't trust him, but still…
As we thundered up to the city gates I chanced a look back over my shoulder, but even with the moon bathing the countryside in its unnervingly bright light, Ry was nowhere to be seen.
Mariko' POV:
I stood on the balcony overlooking the ocean just outside of the court chamber, watching the stars grow brighter in the darkening sky. After being forced to sit and attend the Queen in court for the better part of the day it felt good to stand in the night air, the faintest hint of a sea breeze tickling my cheek. The murmur of conversation drifted through the open doors of the courtroom out onto the balcony, but for the moment I kept my ears closed to their whispers. If I looked straight out over the railing, out over the darkness of the ocean, I could almost make myself believe that I was alone. Alone and somewhere else, not stuck in this palace, wearing a Lady's dresses and acting a Queen's maid.
The dream could only last so long, however. I sighed and leaned against the thick marble railing, wishing that I could take my hair out of the elaborate knot on the top of my head. Even with all of my trepidation about coming to Fletz while on board the ship from Serdio, I had never thought that it might be like this. Though I was in name a guest of honor, I sometimes felt that I was treated as an exotic animal, to be prized and enjoyed, but caged and leashed for fear I might do something disastrous. The Queen certainly seemed to think of me as one. I had spent the past few days seated on a velveteen stool to the left of her throne while she presided over her court, shooting prideful glances at me from time to time out of the corner of her heavy-lidded eyes. Though I was not in truth one of her subjects, she seemed to view me as her own personal pet.
Biting my lip, I looked down to where the palace walls sloped into the white-capped waves of the ocean. I didn't know what made me feel worse; the fact that I was treated in such a way, or the fact that I allowed myself to be treated in such a way. There was a fine line between the two, sometimes. But because I was a mute, I couldn't really voice my opinions or objections. Add into all this the fact that even though they called me a dragoon, I had only had access to that spirit once, and at that under the Moon Child's personal supervision.
I closed my eyes, taking a moment to savor the memory. It hadn't lasted long, but the particular exultation I had felt as the spirit had reacted to my call, flooding my whole being with a power I had only ever dreamed of…that would be burned into my thoughts forever. I felt it perhaps even more keenly than a normal human could have, my wingly blood allowing me to sense magic, yet my human blood restricting me from using all but its weakest forms. But as a dragoon, even knowing the limits of my current abilities, I could feel the whole of the spirit's power, even if I was unable to touch it. With time, maybe I could master it, access it all. Just the thought of that much strength staggered me. And yet, in that moment, still reveling in my newfound strength, the sweetness of it all was somehow dampened by the young woman standing before me, watching me carefully through pale silver eyes.
As powerful as the spirit made me, I was but a trifle beside the Moon Child.
That frightened me. I had felt her power before; really, it was difficult not to feel her, as long as she was within the palace; but I had never understood exactly how great hers was until I had something to compare it to. Now, it was like an oppressive cloud polluting the air of the palace, weighing me down no matter where I went.
"My Lady Mariko?" Soltrane appeared beside me, the contours of his enameled armor catching the moonlight. "The Queen has given you leave to return to your apartments, if you wish. I should not think that you'd enjoy spending the rest of the evening watching the court's proceedings."
I pulled myself out of my thoughts, turning to look at the dread knight gratefully. Soltrane, at least, had recognized my distress at having to spend all of my time in attendance to the Queen. Not that there was much of anything that he could do about it, but it was likely that he had planted the suggestion of letting me return to my rooms early. Trying not to look too eager, I stepped away from the railing, taking one last look out over the ocean before following him back though the arched doorway into the courtroom.
It was a long walk back through the halls of the palace to the tower that housed my apartments. The Moon Child had given them to me as something in the nature of a gift, and though they were very nice, I could see the practicality of the notion. For now it was my home, but with one guard, the lofty tower became a prison. Guest of honor be damned.
'Everything I have is false.' If I had been able, I might have laughed at it all. If. But I couldn't. And so I continued to follow Soltrane along the walkways and up the stairs leading to my tower, a bitter resentment toward myself and the world in general plaguing my thoughts. For now, at least, there was nothing I could do.
'For now. For now. Always putting it off.'
"Her Majesty seems to enjoy having you attend her." Soltrane glanced back over his shoulder plate, his strange, soft voice breaking the silence. "But I think that my Lady would rather not, no?"
'My Lady, my Lady. I'm not one of those fawning courtiers, Knight. Do you think I enjoy it?" In my own mind, my thoughts were as loud as thunder. But of course, I said nothing.
Soltrane must have sensed this. Chuckling, he rounded a corner and began to lead me up the long, spiraling flight of stairs that lead to the top of my tower. "I thought as much. You're a strong soul, my Lady. This… captivity. It hurts, doesn't it." For a moment he sounded regretful. "You'll remember I told you once, not to allow yourself to become caught in this spiral."
I almost stumbled on the stairs, catching his arm just in time to pull myself back to my feet. Looking up sharply, I saw that he wasn't even looking at me. Instead he was looking out over the edge of the stairwell, eyes glinting in the shadow of his helm, reflecting the lights of the city below. '…Spiral?'
He continued as though nothing had happened. "I fear for you, my Lady. The spiral will soon become too steep. You're running out of time." Soltrane fell silent, still watching the city lights. Not for the first time, I began to wonder just how deeply his loyalty to the temples ran. There were times when I wondered just how far he would truly go, if ordered, and yet…
'This spiral, Soltrane…is it yours or is it mine? Are you looking for a way out too?'
At last Soltrane tore his eyes away from the lights below and continued up the stairs. I trailed him, waiting to see if he'd speak again. But as always, he fell stoically silent, as though realizing that he'd spoken too much.
I felt a twinge of pity. For all that he was, here, in this place, he was also the closest thing to a friend that I had. And dread knight or no, I didn't like seeing him like this.
The rest of the climb was finished in silence. Soltrane led me into the circular apartment at the top of the tower, lighting the lamps before heading out onto the balcony while I did my own business inside, as he did every night. He would stay until I was ready to sleep, and even then he would exit only to stand guard outside the door until the midnight watch came. And he would be there again in the morning, waiting when I awoke. Vaguely, I wondered if he ever slept.
'Spiral…' I seated myself on the edge of my bed and began to slowly take down my hair, sticking the pins in my mouth as I removed them. 'Do you really think it's too late for me, Soltrane? Have I given up so much already?'
When the pins were all removed my hair fell down loose around my shoulders, and I pulled my fingers through it, working out the itches that had formed while it was up. 'No. I don't know what happened to you, but it won't happen to me. I'm going to find a way. Even if I have to steal the dragoon spirit and fight for my freedom, I'll find my own way out of this.'
Out on the balcony, Soltrane was watching the city lights.
Ayrel's POV:
"How much longer do you think she'll last, daughter?"
I stepped back from the doorway, where I had been watching Mariko and her guardian ascend up the stairway. "What's that supposed to mean? Did you see something, mother?"
Mother laughed quietly to herself. "I don't need gifts to tell when someone is suffering, Ayrel."
I shook my head and crossed my arms under my breasts. "Still, you do have them."
"Yes. I suppose so."
"And…?"
Mother sighed and leaned back in her chair. "It's like a pit. Everyday, it grows a little larger. It could be days, or weeks, or perhaps months, but sooner or later she'll lash out, and then what will you do?"
"How am I supposed to know?" I grumbled, dropping down to sit on the carpet. We were in mother's private apartments, waiting for father to return from the court proceedings. Supper hour had came and went, and still he wasn't back. Then again, I shouldn't have been surprised. Father seemed to have a love affair with the court, sometimes. He'd even taken to dressing like the country's nobles, all in silks and satins and trim coats. I snorted at the thought. Once, and only once, he'd tried to convince me to dress like one of the court's 'ladies'. So far as I could tell, that damn dress was still rotting under the ocean where I'd translocated it.
"I'd give the matter some thought," Mother recommended. Reaching out of the chair, she picked up her needlework from where she had left it on the bedside table and began to work on it, silver needle flashing in the lamplight. "If you don't, you might do something rash that you'll regret late-" The needlework fell suddenly from her hands, the hoop frame rolling across the carpet as she started to her feet, eyes wide.
"Mother?" I got up quickly, one hand going to the twisted hilt of the dragon buster that hung, ever present, at my belt. Mother was staring at the north wall of her room, and I could feel her beginning to gather her energy as she prepared to teleport into the castle below. Teleport both of us, I realized as she extended the spell to cover me as well. Glaring at her, I stepped back until I was out of range of her spell, and darted out on to the balcony.
In the entire world, there was only one thing that scared mother that badly.
Ignoring her cries, I pulled the door to the balcony shut behind me. Going to the northern side, I jumped up onto the marble balustrade and looked out over the wasteland that was Tiberoa, wavering back and forth as I balanced on the wide rail. A thin streak of blue-white light was skimming across the rocky plain that stood between the city and the mountains, a long trail of dust and debris billowing in its wake.
The dragon buster flared to life in my right hand, its golden glow seeming even brighter in the moonlight. I smiled thinly in anticipation, and gathered my energy to warp down to the desert below. Dart had come to me at last.
I released the spell, and suddenly I was in darkness, standing on the cracked earth of the plains. Dart was a burst of light about a mile distant, but the distance was closing fast. Very fast. Shoving my sword into the ground to free up my other hand, I stretched them both before me, palms facing outward, bringing my mind to bear on them as I did so.
Half a mile.
A quarter mile.
When the dragoon was no more than a hundred meters away, I struck. Energy focused and burst forth in a twisting, raging torrent that scorched rock and earth before it hit its target and detonated, the sudden flare of light blinding after the comparative dimness of the moonlight. The concussion as the spell caught him full on was immense, the shock wave forcing me back several meters and splitting the earth with a sound that was probably heard on the other side of the city.
But as the light from the explosion faded, Dart was still standing, one huge shoulder of his monstrous armor scorched black and pitted from the force of the explosion.
"Is that the best you could do, girl?" He growled, taking a step forward. "That was hardly worth blocking."
I gritted my teeth. It was sheer bravado on his part, but it still rankled at me. "Would you like another taste?" I asked sweetly, trying to keep the irritation from my voice. "I could always amp it up a little bit- you know, roast you like a bird inside that armor of yours. By the way, your friend the dragon is aware of how positively hideous it is, isn't he?"
"Useful though," he commented dryly, taking another step forward. "I suppose you could roast me, but what would be the sense in that? I thought you wanted to see me die slowly so you could enjoy it."
"Oh, it would be slow." I smiled poisonously at him, lifting my hands toward him again. "Very, very slow."
This time I altered my aim, swinging my hands upward to follow him as he took to the air. This time the shot only glanced off of the shoulder guard, knocking him briefly off balance before the muzzle of his cannon came up and fired, the incandescent light burning away the dark of the night. Automatically I warped away, the counterattack missing me by a hairsbreadth. I reappeared in the air behind him, only to be forced to warp again as he spun to face me, releasing a scattershot of energy from the cannon's gattling weapon at almost point blank range. By the time I came out of the warp he was gone, a streak of light heading for the mountains in the distance.
I hesitated for a moment, surprised to find myself needing to catch my breath. He was fast; much faster than I would have given him credit for. And his strength…I glanced down, looking to the ruined earth where his attack had landed. There was no broken crater as I might have expected; instead a neat semi-circle ten feet in diameter had been burned out of the stony ground. So. He wasn't just playing games, then.
Retrieving the dragon buster from where it stuck point first into the ground, I turned to focus on the tail of white sparks speeding into the distance. He was running already? I glanced back over my shoulder at the city walls, tall and imposing in the gentle light of the moon. Then I looked away and gathered my energy again, readying myself for the leap. No, not running. This close to the city there was too much chance of interference, which was the last thing either of us wanted. And besides, even if he was running, I wasn't about to let him get away.
The world winked out of sight, and for a long moment I floated alone in an endless expanse of undulating green light. Then with a shiver and inrush of air the world restored itself, leaving me hovering some few hundred feet above the rough landscape. Fletz lay far to the southeast now, seeming much smaller where it stood on the edge of the plain bordering the dark ocean. Mountains fanned out in a great semi-circle from the ocean shore, guarding the flats and forming a dark perimeter of jagged peaks framed against the star strewn sky. The night was clear and the moon, unobstructed by cloud, shone down on the scene with an intensity that was almost fierce.
Dart was still ahead of me, though not by much. He'd changed the angle of his flight slightly more to the north, heading toward a particularly ragged series of peaks that sat well inland of the rest. Another quick warp and the peaks were that much closer, though Dart still managed to keep ahead of me, his dragoon form now clearly visible within the nimbus of light surrounding him as he flew. Jumping again, idly I wondered exactly how much energy he had to expend to keep up that sort of a pace.
I had to make the jumps shorter now, more rapid. It was slightly disorienting, but following this closely behind Dart and still unable to catch him, I couldn't risk making anything longer incase he changed direction. I could feel him in a sense, or rather, I could sense the spirit's power, but nothing on the level of my mother's skills in that particular area. If he dropped out of sight, I didn't know how much of a chance I stood of finding him again on my own.
We were in the mountains now, and those strange, snapped off peaks seemed almost close enough to touch. Ahead of me Dart suddenly dove, rolling in a tight corkscrew toward a nearly invisible pass through the rock. As he disappeared from sight I gathered myself again, aiming for a point about a mile beyond the peaks. At least from there I should be able to see him as he came out the other side, if I was quick enough.
The world flickered. When it returned, I found myself floating above a sea of darkness that stretched for miles in every direction. Confused, I looked around. At first it seemed that I must have overshot, but no- there were those odd twisted peaks, and the mountains stretching off to either side. I turned a slow circle in mid-air, reevaluating the situation. Mountains encircled the gap in the same way that trees might surround a lake. It formed a natural basin of sorts; there might have even been a lake here at one point, early in time while Tiberoa was still green. Looking down, I did my best to peer through the blackness. The moonlight helped somewhat, though all I could tell was that it seemed to be filled with rocky spires, half submerged in the dark. Looking around again, I frowned. Dart was nowhere to be seen, but I could feel the slow eminence of the spirit's power seeping out, tainting the air. He wasn't far. I glanced down again, then up at the stars, then down. Not far at all.
I couldn't see into the valley below well enough to teleport with any degree of accuracy, so I flew down instead, preternaturally alert as I descended slowly with my dragon buster at the ready. The air tingled as though something nearby had just been struck by lightening, and there was a feeling something akin to static- though not quite. Pinnacles of rock rose slowly above my head, their bases lost within the shadow below.
It wasn't until I was well in the midst of the stone that I realized something was horribly wrong. The huge monoliths of stone, weighing tens of tons apiece, didn't seem to be anchored in anyway to solid earth, for there was no earth to be seen. Impossibly, the rocks floated suspended in mid-air, drifting slightly like leaves caught in a lazy current.
'What the hell is this place?' I half-turned, my eyes wide as they tried to make sense of what they were seeing. As if seeing one had summoned more, suddenly I could see them all around me, rocks of every size and shape and description, some moving some immobile as they hung there in silent defiance of reality. Danger forgotten for the moment I simply stared, the hand holding the dragon buster falling to my side as I tried to take it all in.
In my amazement, I failed to see the shadow that detached itself from the rocks at my back and hurled itself across the intervening space, slamming into me from behind. The dragon buster flew from my hands as I was sent tumbling, flipping over twice before I could right myself. Dart, bare of his armor, dropped away from me, turning himself over in midair as he dove after the falling dragon buster, coat flapping wildly as he fell. With a curse I followed, pouring every ounce of energy I could muster into my wings. The distance closed and for an instant we were alongside each other, side by side as we dropped. And then I was ahead of him, hands outstretched as I reached out to catch my weapon from the air, thumbing it on as Dart whipped past, unable to stop himself as he hurtled toward a rocky platform that had materialized out of the darkness below. I slowed my decent and hung back, waiting to see if he would be able to transform in time.
As a matter of fact he didn't, but it made little difference. Twenty feet above the slab gravity seemed to warp itself and his fall slowed, bringing him to rest softly on the drifting rock. Seeming much less surprised than I was, Dart drew his sword, the moonlight dancing along its lethal length as it slid from its sheath. He glanced up at me once as the light from his transformation began to engulf him, and then he was rushing upward, wings powering the air as he blasted upward.
The shock as our swords met numbed my arm, and almost immediately I felt myself being forced back, unable to hold my own against his strength. With a snarl I slid my blade away and kicked out at his face angrily. Feeling the kick make contact, I whirled away, trying to put as much distance between the dragoon and myself as possible. Still recovering from the blow to his head Dart lunged forward with the muzzle of his cannon extended like a blunt spear. I dodged, spinning to the side and swinging down hard with the buster, the sword's flickering blade biting deep into the touch shell of the cannon. Jerking it free again I backed away reaching my other hand toward him as I prepared to cast a spell that would fill the area with a web of thunder. Surprisingly Dart drew back.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." His voice was deadly quiet, but filled with warning.
I hesitated, then stretched my hand out again, focusing even harder. The feeling of static in the air increased, prickling my skin.
Dart sighed and shook his head. "Do you know why the gravity is inconsistent here? This is one big backwater of magical residue almost 12000 years old. It's extremely unstable."
"You're bluffing." I snapped back, but I did lessen the spell somewhat. Unstable magic…?
Dart flinched slightly, as though something had stung him. "Really?" He said skeptically, watching as a stray rock floated past. "Try your spell if you want then, but if the whole thing blows up in your face, don't blame me. The dragoon spirits seem to work here, but that's a different sort of magic altogether. Besides, not even I'm stupid enough to try using magic here."
"Bastard," I growled, finally seeing his point. With a shudder I let the spell dissolve and lifted the dragon buster. "Fine. Magic isn't the only way out."
"Assuming you can find your way out, that is. Stay down here for too long and you might end up lost forever."
"Yeah, right." Gritting my teeth, I attacked.
From the first exchange of blows it was clear that how Dart fought as a human and how he fought as a dragoon were two vastly different things. As a human he had been strong, yes, but not so much that I couldn't find a way to offset it with speed or clever swordplay. As a dragoon though, there was no precise swordplay. The horrific strength that the armor lent to him staggered me, and very quickly I found myself trying to dodge his attacks rather than block them, using hit-and-run tactics to try to score an incapacitating blow. Long gouges formed in the armor from the slashes of my dragon buster, tears and rents that should have found flesh and bone and yet didn't. And still he fought on, swinging his wicked blade as he sought my blood.
I was wearing myself out. Winded, I tried to pull myself back out of his range, the arm holding the dragon buster shaking from fatigue. Grimly Dart turned toward me again, implacable as the tide as he lifted his sword again.
'How long can that transformation possibly last?' I thought desperately, pulling back even farther as he advanced. I could see now the severity of the trap that I had walked in to. With magic, surely I would have been able to face the dragoon, but here, where magic was liable to be more dangerous to the user than to the target, there was no chance. In match of strength, Dart would crush me as long as he remained empowered by that dragon's damned spirit. My only hope lay in exhausting the transformation and finding a way to overcome him while he was human, but there was a risk even in that. The longer the battle wore on the faster Dart would be able to revert to his armored form, leaving me even more worn out and less able to face it than before.
Eventually exhaustion began to take its toll. As I began to slow down Dart lashed out with one huge foot, crushing me against the side of a rock. I screamed as the wicked talons dug into my chest, scoring deep, bloody gouges into my ribcage. As Dart drew back his sword to strike I lashed out wildly, the enchanted blade of the dragon buster stabbing through the armor at the hip, finding soft flesh at last. He cried out and flinched back instinctively, and the pressure on my chest lessened just enough to allow me to slip free. I could taste blood, I realized, and absently realized that my lip had been split clean open to spill blood down my chin.
Dart's sword flashed out in retaliation and I closed my wings, letting myself free fall a few dozen feet before opening them again and racing off into the shadows of the rocks, away from the dragoon with my heart in my throat. This fight was lost. My only chance of survival lay in escape.
I flew without any sense of direction, dodging rocks and flying boulders as I tried to put as much distance between Dart and myself as possible. When at last I began to see flashes of sky overhead between the towering rocks I flew upward, almost laughing in relief. If I could get into open air then I could find a way away from this cursed place, somewhere where I could salvage myself with magic.
But first…I landed on a broad lump of rock that didn't seem so locomotive as the others did. My limbs quivered from exhaustion as I folded my wings and slumped to the ground, trying to catch my breath. Even now, as close as I was, there was no way I could reach the sky like this. Dragging myself back from the edge, I pulled myself along until I could settle my back against a twisted old tree stump. 'One minute,' I promised myself. 'Just one minute to rest.'
Rocks drifted past overhead, dark and dappled shadows framed against the starry mosaic of the night sky. Again, I found myself noticing how bright the moon was tonight. Normally I would have counted this as a sign of good luck for myself, but at the moment I knew just how false the notion was. He had me trapped here, and he knew it. I yearned for the sky overhead, but for the moment at least, I was down for the count.
As my breath began to steady again I caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye. In an instant the dragon buster was alight in my hand, the other coming up automatically to shade my eyes against the glow as I wrenched myself around without moving from a sitting position. A shadow drifting across a stretch of bare rock; nothing more. I let my breath out slowly, a hiss between clenched teeth.
"You know Ayrel, for all of your bravado, I seem to get the sense that you're balking." The voice echoed off of the drifting rocks, coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time.
I wrenched around again, this time searching for him as best I could with my mind as well as my eyes. And still there was nothing; was it the dragon, shielding him? Or was the magic of this unnatural place messing with my senses?
Above, the rocks continued to drift. As the shadows slipped away a shape seemed to detach itself from the darkness and then he was there. At some point the transformation's effects had worn away, leaving him looking small and very slight without the bulk of his massive armor, though he was by no means a small man. Stepping to the edge of the crag on which he stood, he gazed down at me expressionlessly, taking in my condition.
I'll freely admit that there was something about him that chilled me in that moment. He seemed utterly unconcerned with the flaring sword I held in hand, keeping his eyes fixed on my own instead. They shone cold and flat in the moonlight, without even a suggestion of wariness or uncertainty. Only a cool malevolence that made me want to crawl inward on myself, to find some escape from that terrible gaze.
This was not Dart. No human ever had eyes such as those.
Ragnarok reached up to the collar of his shirt; fingers undoing the buttons slowly, one by one as he spoke. "You never trained with hunters, did you, kid?" He asked softly, his eyes fixed on mine while his hand continued to work the buttons of his shirt. "They teach steel well in those temples of yours, I must admit. Your sword masters teach you to take life, but they also teach you to value it. They teach you mercy." He had come to the end of the buttons; the shirt hung open now. "But," He continued, "I've always found that that sort of mercy leaves something to be desired. I've always found that hunters have a more appropriate view on the subject."
He moved his left shoulder, shrugging away the heavy fabric of his jacket. "Do you know what it is they teach, kid? It might benefit you." Reaching up with his hand, he pulled away the thin cloth of his shirt, leaving his shoulder bare in the moonlight. Muscle, etched in light and shadow, was stretched thickly over his frame, but that was not what drew my eyes. A long, ragged scar stretched down from the top of his shoulder and ended part way across his chest, the scar tissue silvery pale in the moonlight.
I felt my hand start to shake. I knew the blade that had inflicted that scar.
Slowly, Ragnarok drew his clothing back up to cover the scar, though his eyes were still fixed on my own, boring into my head like red-hot iron.
"Never," he said softly, "wound what you mean to kill."
I felt myself turning cold. Ragnarok slowly drew his blade from its sheath, the sibilant whisper of steel alarmingly loud in my ears. Hopping lightly off of the edge he dropped down onto my rock, landing in a crouch with his blade held out clear to the side. Looking up, his eyes burned in the shadows of his face like cold fire. "Tell me, Ayrel. They call you a goddess, but what sort of goddess would fear the blade of a mortal?"
I tried to get to my feet, but about all I could manage was an undignified scramble onto one knee. My heartbeat pounded like a drum in my ears. Surely he could hear it. The way he was looking at me, there was no way that dragon couldn't have heard it. I gripped my dragon buster very firmly with my sword hand, feeling the hilt slip slightly in my sweat-slicked grip. On the other side of the slab Ragnarok had started his slow advance, his long, tattered coat flicking at his heels like the broken wings of a demon.
"Monster," I whispered, the iron taste of blood heavy in my mouth. "You black-souled monster!"
"I always wondered where the name came from," the dragon replied dryly, taking another step. He stood over me now, blocking out the moonlight. "Just remember, Ayrel. You were the one who started it."
I squeezed the hilt of the dragon buster. "No." I shook my head and looked up, full into those terrible eyes. "You did." And mustering every last once of energy I could manage, I sprung forward, driving my blade at his stomach.
Several things happened in that moment. Like lightening Ragnarok whirled away, the keen edge of his sword shrieking through the air as he swung it around, turning the dodge into what would have been a strike. With nothing to stop me I fell forward, the point of the dragon buster driving into the stone. For an instant time seemed to crawl, Ragnarok completing the spin that would set him up to drive his sword through me as I rolled onto my side, spurs of pain driving though my ribcage from the open wounds on my chest.
It's said that when faced with death, people will often make the most desperate choices. I'm not even sure if I really made the choice. Staring up at Ragnarok- the age-old enemy of the winglies entrapped within the body of one of mankind's ancient dragon warriors- rationality was replaced by instinct. My will cracking inside my mind like a whip, I released my power all at once, willing myself to be anywhere, anyplace but there.
As the sword started to fall the world disappeared, not in a sudden flash, as it usually did, but in a fragmented swirl, as though the last image I saw had been frozen and then smashed by a hammer. A discordant hum filled my ears with off-key music and my stomach lurched unpleasantly with the sudden sensation of rapid movement, foggy my mind with nausea. And then it was over, the warp depositing me on a patch of sandy ground scattered with thin, dead wisps of grass.
Letting go of the dragon buster, I dragged myself forward a few feet to where a jumble of squared-off rubble lay in a heap. Pulling myself onto my elbows, I leaned over the stones and retched, the taste of the stuff fouling my mouth. When I was finished I sat up, wiping my mouth on the back of my hand as I looked around. There was one building immediately to my left, its ancient walls cracked by exposure to the elements and neglect. Looking around I saw that there were others, all in various stages of decay. They might have been made of sandstone, but all color was diluted by the moonlight, making it difficult to tell. I seemed to be on a road of sorts, leading off to a long flight of stairs in one direction, while the other led to an old wall surrounded by the crumbled remains of its gate.
I sat there for a few minutes in the darkness, feeling myself over for injuries. Aside from the gashes on my chest and the split lip, the only other hurt worth noting was what I suspected to be a sprained ankle. Feeling somewhat relieved, I healed the injuries with magic, relieved and comforted to have that available to me once again. Getting to my feet I retrieved my dragon buster and thumbed it off. I had no clue where my randomized warp had deposited me, but I was fairly certain that neither Dart or Ragnarok would be able to find me here. Earlier, I might have felt anger at the thought, but now all I could feel was relief. There would be time enough to be angry later, when I found my way back to Fletz. For now, though, just being alive was enough.
Alive. It hurt to be satisfied with that much. It rankled that Dart had been able to lead me so easily into that trap. Had mother been right? Had I let my pride get the better of me?
The dragon buster lay on the sand a few feet away from me, staining the silvery sand orange-gold in its glow. Reaching out, I picked it up and thumbed it off, leaving me sitting alone in the darkness with sunspots dancing across my vision. Alive. Yes, I was alive.
'Never wound what you mean to kill…'
Ragnarok's soft words seemed to be whispered on the wind, repeated in the slight shifting of the sands as a light breeze smelling of sun-baked earth and dry bracken stirred my sweaty hair.
I leaned back against the stones, my fingers caressing the smooth hilt of the dragon buster. "Thank-you, Ragnarok," I whispered softly, remembering his words. I'd learned my lesson. I had time now; time to think, time to find a way to return the favor.
Time enough to find a way to make that dragon eat his words.
The sky was no longer quite as clear overhead. A bank of cloud was beginning to slip up from the southwest, the first few adventurous wisps drifting across the pitted face of the moon. The moonlight on the wall of the crumbling house opposite me shifted and faded, dappled with shadow. I watched it quietly, still stroking my weapon absently.
Time enough.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Shade: -chained to the laptop- There! Finished!
Dart: -peers over her shoulder- You sure?
Shade:-.- If I go much longer, something's liable to explode. Now can I eat?
Dart: Maybe. You still have to get started on the next one.
Shade: ;-; -cries-
Well, took me long enough. 23 pages, or something like that. About all I can say is I'm glad I took the time I did, seeing as in my opinion it's the best chapter I've written in a very, very long time. O.o I was actually sympathizing with Ayrel through the confrontation between her and Ark/Dart. Sad to say it, but I think I'm going to have to revise my opinion of her a bit. I actually sort of like her.
-Is at this point is maimed by pointy objects hurled by the readers-
…Owie. And to those who are interested, Chapter two has been completely revised and re-posted. It should make for much, much easier reading than the original.
