Lessons in Dance and in Monarchy
Ruriko felt consciousness swim back into her body, but she didn't know if it had taken a couple of seconds or even hours. There was a numbness pounding through her still. Slowly, so slow that she wasn't even sure it was happening, feeling drifted in. She felt a mattress beneath her, a hand clasping hers… Oh ancient gods, my head hurts.
There were voices floating vaguely through the air around her, but they could have been the grunts of wild animals for all the sense they made. She struggled to listen, and her brain couldn't translate what was being said. As she sank further back into reality, she heard things become gradually clearer.
"… If we don't know what the spell was, we can't reverse it…"
Spell? Her memories edged back. But she couldn't listen and remember at the same time.
"It was almost definitely a spell with the cards, so it could've been anything."
Cards? You mean the Rodusha cards?
Wait… I cast a spell with the Rodusha cards with Iero Profa, and then I screwed up, and…
"Will she be OK?"
"We can't say yet. But we also don't know what's wrong with her."
I'm fine! Just… tired.
She tried to tell them to stop worrying, but she was so exhausted; just about any movement seemed impossible. She tried to remember what happened during the spell; she should have seen what she needed to know. But in her memories, she found only blurred shapes and sounds that fell in on themselves…
I don't remember…
I knew everything I needed to, and I forgot it…
She wanted to scream. Her frustration mounted up in waves of red, boiling and throbbing. You idiot, you fucking idiot…
"Ruriko… please be OK…"
Akiro? That was definitely Akiro's voice. And he sounded so upset… Tears welled up in her eyes as feelings she couldn't decipher coursed through her. And she knew what they were earlier. She didn't know when it was that she knew them; it could've been days ago. But she was in the dark about how she felt now. She didn't know.
Look at the fuss you've caused… And for what?
She squeezed the hand that held hers, finding no other way to let them know she was awake. The gasp she heard could only be Draco's.
"I think she's OK! Ruriko? Say something, sweetheart…"
I can't! She opened her mouth, but her voice was feeble and weak. She opened her eyes, which was surprisingly difficult. She was totally exhausted. Dim light streamed into her vision, and she was looking at the canopy of her bed. She heard more fuss around her, then felt a hand at her back lifting her into a sitting position. The curve of her spine was almost unbearable.
"Ruriko, drink this." It was Erita. Ruriko found a bottle pressed to her lips, and she was tilted back, her head swimming. A bitter, foul tasting concoction seeped over her tongue, making her shudder, and she automatically went to spit it out. But a strong hand was pressed firmly over her mouth, and another was holding her nose. She gave in quickly and swallowed it.
Almost instantly, her vision sharpened, and she found traces of strength in her limbs and an audible voice in her throat. The empty numbness ebbed away. She looked around and saw Orius and Akiro stood on one side of the bed, Draco sat next to her and holding her hand, Erita stood over her, and the other Masters in varying states of alarm around her. Her disappointment at her own failure thickened, and she felt heavier.
"Ruriko, are you OK?" asked Orius, placing a hand on her shoulder. Ruriko nodded, feeling anything but OK.
"What happened? What spell did you use?"
"Iero Profa."
"Complete revelation? What were you hoping for?"
"I wanted to know what happened at Arie, and why Kyo could escape, and what Lord of Death was."
"Did you find out? What did you see?"
Ruriko was convinced he would yell at her for forgetting; in fact, she thought he would yell for casting the spell in the first place. She shook her head.
"It shouldn't have had that kind of effect though, should it?" said Jigan from the other side of the room. "Her diary should have been a suitable conductor."
"I used three gemstones," she replied, feeling her voice quieten again. "They shattered, but they didn't work."
"Ruriko, what were you thinking?" said Orius, a fatherly sternness creeping into his voice.
She lowered her head, feeling almost as though she were unworthy of him. He rarely shouted at her; it was never normally necessary, as he was completely adept at putting her in her place with minimal force. It was times like that she felt too low for tears.
"I wanted to know… to… help…"
None of the others made a movement or sound. Everything around her felt grey, and she sank lower.
"You could've been seriously hurt," he went on. She was thankful that her long hair covered her face. "You need to tell us these things."
"I'm sorry," she spluttered. Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry… "I really didn't mean to worry you. I really didn't, I'm just so, so sorry…"
Without warning, she was pulled into a hug from Orius. She was surprised, but nestled into him, still mumbling the word "sorry."
"We know," he said, the bite still in his tone, but his hug was tight and affectionate. "Don't do anything like this again. We're glad you're alright."
"Understatement," interjected Fieri instantly.
There was a ripple of agreement, and, almost simultaneously, smiles adorned the faces of her companions, and Ruriko felt a slight warmth; it made her feel a lot better. She smiled.
"Midnight," said Draco. "Time for bed, people." Ruriko felt her eyes widen and disorientation settle into her system. I was out that long?
"Ruriko, are you sure you're OK?" asked Jigan.
"Yes." She still wasn't sure, but she didn't want to cause any more trouble.
"Fair enough, but I'm staying with you tonight," decided Draco. "I'll feel a lot better if I'm with you."
Ruriko, unable to challenge that, just nodded. The Masters bade the sisters goodnight, and filed out. Akiro cast one last concerned look at Ruriko, and followed them.
It was surprisingly easy to fall asleep. Fatigue still thumping through her head, and the warmth of Draco next to her, the vague blackness of slumber swept over her almost instantly.
Without warning, she sat up, her back rigidly straight, gasping. She thought back and tried to remember why she had awoken so suddenly. Quickly, her dreams re-imprinted themselves into her vision. First, there had been the usual dream where she had been falling, falling, falling, the insecurity of being airborne, the wind roaring past her ears, the chill… At the part where she expected to land in syrup, like she normally did, she found herself in a tree. She'd landed in the branches of a pure white tree. It wasn't a blinding dazzling white, nor was it even close to verging on grey. The bark was so smooth and soft to touch. There were four stags, and they greeted each other by name, and a squirrel who spoke to a great eagle and a snake, and three girls, sisters, who tended to the tree…
But something was wrong, very wrong… But what was it? She knew the feeling perfectly well, but she just couldn't word it…
She looked over to the window, and saw the faintest tinge of pink blushing against the violet sky.
"Sis? Sis?" she whispered frantically, roughly shaking Draco's shoulder. Draco woke instantly, a little quality Ruriko envied, though she didn't know if she should or not. Draco and Oshi's alert instincts were a great asset to their abilities, but Ruriko couldn't imagine being on her guard all the time like they were. It had to be tiring…
"Yes, Ruriko?" she asked blandly. Draco could be instantly roused from sleep, but that didn't mean she appreciated being woken up in the first place.
"I saw something," said Ruriko. "It was a tree. It was… It was…" She floundered in her speech, not knowing what to say. "It was… being… corrupted."
A brief silence followed, but it wasn't the thoughtful silence that came with any worthwhile revelations.
"I think I saw it in whatever vision I had earlier," she quickly added.
Draco kept her eyes on Ruriko, and Draco knew full well that Ruriko hated it. When she was annoyed, Draco gained the power of the "eye of shame", the "one good thing I inherited from our mother." It was her version of a glare; Ruriko had seen grown men quail under Draco's "eye of shame", and she wished she had it.
"You woke me up at the crack of dawn to tell me that?" Draco grumbled.
"… Sorry," replied Ruriko quickly, finding her voice a little high-pitched.
"Go to sleep, Ruriko."
-X-X-
"I don't see why we all shouldn't stay here. Phreeoni's not going anywhere."
"But how do we know that?" replied Oshi curtly.
Chisel crossed his arms and frowned. Oshi didn't smirk, as he had expected. Chisel felt a small stab of guilt at his assumption; Oshi didn't try and be difficult, he just told things like they were. He was cynical, and in these cases, had a very down-to-earth attitude.
As usual, the weather in Comodo was beautiful, and there were few clouds in the sky. They sat in the shade of a café, an old favourite of Taiken's. Also, it was easier to tolerate Hawk and Oshi's customary silence when they both had a drink in front of them… for some reason.
"We'll call it speculation, assassin," he answered with a smile.
"It's weird," mused Taiken. "But I think Chisel's right."
There was a nod from Hawk, and Oshi said, "I thought so as well. I just don't want to assume too much."
"So, you all have this feeling that Phreeoni is not going to move?" asked Taiken, his voice cautiously low.
Chisel nodded instantly, and felt Hawk and Oshi do the same. It wasn't like a voice in his head telling him "Phreeoni will not move", just as a voice in his head wouldn't tell him "your name is Chisel" if anyone asked who he was. He imagined the creature coming out of Anthell, and he just… couldn't see it happening. It wasn't dread; it was certainty. And now his guild mates had confirmed that.
"That is weird," whispered Hawk.
"Yeah… We're clairvoyant buddies," said Taiken with an almost cynical frown.
There was an odd, surreal silence; Chisel tried to distract himself from it by taking a sip of his drink. The icy liquid slipping down his throat felt strange.
"So… it's agreed then," he said. "We're staying here while Kyo completes her training."
"Yes," said Taiken, briefly snapping out of his serious figure. "What about Draco and Ruriko? Should they stay up in Yuno, or go back home, or come down here?"
"They don't know about Phreeoni yet, so if they go home, we need to warn them," replied Oshi.
Taiken thought for a moment, then turned to Hawk and sighed, "Bugger it. Just tell them to heave themselves down here."
Hawk made no reaction other than following Taiken's order. Chisel regarded Taiken's position with slight curiosity. It was Ruriko who was the official leader of the God's Cry, being its founder, but Taiken was the most qualified to be labelled the guild master. Ruriko had charisma, but that alone wasn't enough for leadership; so Taiken had taken up the torch and was the one to manage the guild and make any decisions.
Hawk woke his falcon, which was asleep on his shoulder, and received a stab in the ear from a sharp beak. The bird remained still when he was tying the note to its leg, but apparently the usual nip it gave him was a lot harder than usual.
"Ow," he grumbled as the falcon took off, a hand nursing his ear.
"How I wish I had a falcon," said Taiken, with the slightest trace of a grin.
"They're downright annoying at times," was the murmured reply.
"I don't know… They look like good pets."
"If you think of them as pets, there is no way they will obey you. A hunter and falcon are partners; they help sustain each other. If you think of yourself as the master and the falcon as something that has to obey, it's not going to be happy."
"How do you… make falcons though?" asked Chisel. It was always a privilege to hear from other castes about their skills and how they work.
"Well, I guess you would call it taming," replied Hawk. "But a lot of it involves waiting for your falcon to come to you. You have to befriend it, almost like you would a person…"
"Oh, ancient gods, no, Hawk!" said Taiken in a mock-panicky voice. "Not befriending like a person, surely?"
"If it's difficult, then you've got the wrong bird. Alder was easy, because he's just like me."
"That's a scary thought…"
x-x-x
Kyo had already learnt one of the dances involving chants. She had Eva as a dancing instructor, and when she had learnt the support dances, one of the bards would teach her the "ensembles."
"They're just support dances, but they work as a bard and a dancer working together," explained Aravis. "But since you have Taiken as part of your guild, I wouldn't worry too much about your partner. You need to move perfectly in sync with the bard you're performing with, but Taiken was excellent at that when he was here."
Within the first hour, she had learnt to throw her chakrams like a boomerang and stun someone with a scream. It was an odd technique, as it required not only the usual concentration of a spell, but for the user to scream at the top of their lungs. It was a strange feeling. She was also being taught the dancer's style of fighting, which wasn't all that dissimilar from her own. The chakrams were easy to work with, she'd found, and already she was able to use them effectively. Aravis insisted that she try fighting with a whip, which she found strangely comfortable. She considered talking to Chisel about her using one, but decided to stick with chakrams for the time being.
Her instructors were astonished at her quick progress, but pleased, nonetheless. The first dance she had learnt had a low, soft chant, which was fast and smooth, and almost sounded like a hum. The steps involved graceful, slow arcs with the arms, pointed toes and precise leg movements. Some of the instructors called it "Focus Ballet", because of the style of the steps, but also because of the way it effected peoples fighting: their vision and motion became sharper, and they were able to strike their target with perfect precision. Others called it "Humming", because of its chant.
After three days of lessons, she was working on the next dance. It had no chant, but it required the same concentration, and the steps were quite complicated. She was OK at adapting and ending her dances without side effects; since they were classed as magic, and the dancers channelled the energy through movement instead of a solid matter, like a mage does with a wand, if the dance was not ended properly, there was a possibility of the dancer being injured by the energy they couldn't channel. So far she was only practising the dance without the focus of power, but she was always told to end them properly "to encourage good habits."
"The "Lady Luck" is a useful dance," said Eva, a glossy haired brunette. She had dark eyes and dark skin, and had re-taught Kyo how to sing. "It will give your fighting party strength and determination. Their attacks will be strong enough to rip through defences and dodges."
Eva would then disappear to teach her beginner class for an hour, in which Kyo would practice by herself. I'll take a break in a minute, she kept telling herself, but she didn't see any point in stopping. She resolved to not take a brake until she'd got whatever she was doing right, but when she finally corrected it, she thought that she should just carry on.
But at midday, Aravis would come in and order her to go eat something, so she went and had lunch with the seniors. Tassy, of course, was something of a best friend or maybe even a sister. It seemed also that everyone liked Tassy. Her best friends, she explained, were Kura and Leo, and now Kyo, she'd added. While the seniors had two or three people who they stayed with all the time, everyone was friends with everyone. It was a very easy environment to fit into to.
Kura was soft in nature and of appearance, and a little too fond of her hair; she was constantly running her fingers through her long honey brown curls. She had smooth tanned skin, which was almost the same colour as her hair. They all spent a lot of time lazing on the beach, just talking, and Kura would always be leaning on Kyo.
Leo had literally swept her off her feet when she had first come out of practice to see them. Kyo had been speaking to Tassy when Leo decided it would be a good idea to rugby-tackle them. After much confusion and falling over, Tassy had spat out a mouth of sand and mumbled, "Leo, start running." Leo was a brash and cocky young man, with bronze eyes and a kind of contagious confidence. He was great fun to be around.
It felt wonderful to have such interesting and good friends, but again, she didn't find the same security she had with Hawk. She thought that maybe he was a certain way, and that was why she felt what she felt, and that it could apply to others. But she was wrong. It wasn't that she didn't like them. In fact, she liked them a lot, too much so, possibly. It's just that Hawk was… she didn't know.
Today, they were playing a game of rounders, a team sport, which Kyo had never played, but she had watched others and thought she had the gist of it. The seniors had invented it as a pass-time. Unfortunately, one of bards had proposed a battle of the sexes, and, unfortunately, the dancers were losing quite embarrassingly.
"The only problem," Tassy pointed out. "Is that they have a team of people who can bat, throw and catch."
Kyo almost scored a rounder, but as she was about to tap the last post, where Leo was waiting for someone to throw the ball to him so he could "stump" her out before she reached it. Leo saw defeat, and, just as she was about to hit it with her bat, he picked up the post and ran off with it.
By the end, the girls made a slight comeback, but still lost miserably. Kyo couldn't care less; it'd been fun, and she wondered what she'd been missing all these years of shying away. This was the first time since sparring with Oshi that she felt human.
Kyo adored her life at Comodo, even though it wouldn't last longer than a month. But she knew it would feel much shorter. She loved the friends she'd made and learning how to be useful to the God's Cry.
Shortly after mastering the Lady Luck dance, Eva told her, "You remember one of the requirements of coming here was to be a good archer?"
She nodded.
"You'll be instructed each morning for two hours," explained Eva. "Then we'll move back to your dances. It gives me time to rest; you work too hard."
"You won't be teaching me?" asked Kyo with a flicker of a laugh.
"No. There's someone much more suitable."
There was a knock at the practice room door, and Hawk stepped through. Kyo wanted to jump up and shout, "Woohoo!" at the top of her lungs. She restrained herself, however, but she smiled, a full, happy smile. Hawk smiled back, and beckoned for her to follow him.
The school had an archery range, right at the back, past the dormitories. It was built like the dance studios: well lit, spacious, and with wooden floors, but there were no mirrors on the walls as there were in the studios. The targets were at the far side of the room.
"This should only take a few days, judging by the progress you're making with your dances," he said. He looked to the targets, and then turned back to Kyo. "You'll have to wear one of these, and one of these," he continued, handing her what appeared to be a leather band and a giant eye-patch with an extra string. "You need to put them on, being a beginner and all. The band goes around your wrist and the pad goes over your chest."
"Which wrist and which part of the chest?"
"Depends how you hold the bow. Here," he said, handing her a bow. "Courtesy of Chisel."
She was going to ask how to hold the bow properly, but he had picked up her right hand and was placing it on the bowstring. It was a peculiar touch; he was gentle, but she felt a strength behind his hands. His skin was smooth and his fingers slender, but there were many furrows from years of archery. Almost effortlessly, he arranged her fingers over the bow, keeping his eyes down as he did so, and she followed suit, occasionally letting her vision flit up to see where he was looking. He held her hands so tenderly; she felt the strange sensation of being airborne, her heart beating against her.
Only when he stood back and asked her to draw the bow back did she worry about this effect he had on her. She did as she was told, but she was inwardly panicking about this strange way she felt. She tried to not think about it, but to no avail.
"Does that feel OK?"
She nodded. He walked around and placed the wristlet over the hand that held the bow, and he put one of the cords of the pad around her arm, pulled it up to her shoulder, and put the other cord over her head and under her arm. It felt odd.
For a majority, Hawk was actually helping draw back the bow to fire, and she found handling a bow almost unbearably awkward. But she didn't dwell on the difficulty.
"I guess you like it here. I haven't seen you much these last couple of days."
"Yeah. Everyone here's so nice."
"Aravis is thrilled about the progress you're making. Apparently, it's record quality, or something. Raise your hand a bit, and hold your arm straight out. I have to admit that I was expecting everyone to be really annoying…"
She laughed. "Well, Comodo showed you what for, then. The dance I just learnt is horrible to do. It's just this one bit in the middle, it has to be really precise; it has to be exactly one and a half steps to each flick of the hips, and it's quite fast so it's almost impossible to – ow – tell if you're doing it right."
" Try not to be pull the bowstring back so far yet; just back to the pad. It's always been interesting fighting alongside Taiken. It feels kind of weird when he plays one of his songs in a fight. It has to be felt to be believed."
They went on talking, Hawk occasionally making his way over and adjusting how she stood. The two hours went by quickly, and soon she was back in the practice room, with Eva teaching her the dance to undo an enemy's magical focus.
-X-X-
The barons were all hideously old-fashioned, so afraid of change. The king was in charge of Midgard, and the barons in charge of their respective towns. They were higher even than the "top" guild masters, and in the hierarchy, only slightly lower than the king, and Tristan sighed inwardly because of it. He sat in the throne, a most frustrating position. He was still Prince Tristan, barely turned eighteen; that was the only problem. His father, King Eirik, lay in his chambers, where he had been for some months, dying. The throne was as good as his, and he hated it. He wanted his father to die, for the sake of a painless end. Hester, a priestess, had examined the king, and one of his organs – the kidney or the liver, one or the other – was… deteriorating, basically, and that he was slowly being poisoned, or something to that effect. She couldn't heal him; in fact, the most humane thing to do would be to slit his throat.
Hester, in fact, was one of the high priests in charge of the priest guild and the chapel in Prontera. Her fellow guild master and brother, Canth, had taken over her duties at the church, so that she could stay with Prince Tristan, and help him through the awkward state of things.
Although he didn't want to think of it, his father was nothing but a nuisance where he was. Anything Tristan wanted to do that was to do with "his" kingdom, he had to pass over the barons. Anything they didn't like, and the words "rightful", "king" and "still alive" all cropped up and Tristan ran headlong into his main obstacle.
And there was the dispute of Morroc; the baron in charge of it had died, and it was believed he was assassinated. But that was before King Eirik had fallen ill, or at least before he showed any sign of being ill, and the place had fallen further, if possible, into shambles. Tristan wanted some of the priest guild to take over, but No! A guild in charge of a town? Are you insane, you must a have a baron in charge of a town, it's the way we've done things for years, I'm a complete fuckwit, blah blah blah… And so it went.
"How about this then?" replied Tristan curtly. "We put the priest guild in charge of it, for the time being."
He knew they wouldn't accept; the barons were convinced that Tristan wanted to eradicate them and remove them from their positions of power (tempting, thought Tristan, but as long as his father was alive, they had to stay.) And, of course, they would think this an attempt to remove their legitimacy. Well, there was an incredibly small chance they would accept, and Canth would be able to recruit the thieves as fighters to help with the problem in Culvert. And even if they didn't accept, it was mildly amusing to hear their excuses. Most of them were about traditions, and how they've done these things since the days of King Some-person-great the twenty-third from the year when everything went really well from the age of We Rule Everything and We Know It.
"A guild in charge of Morroc? Are you mad? The only one legitimate to supervise a town a baron, and the only one legitimate to pass a decree that says otherwise is the king."
Tristan had learnt to make no physical reaction when he heard something like that. He felt the smallest of sighs to his left, which was Hester. Her facial expression would remain cheerfully placid though.
"My lord."
Normally reports came in every three hours, delivered by a swordsman or an acolyte. This time, it was Kenji, captain of the guards, who always had whispered words of encouragement for Tristan. It was odd to see him kneel and bow like one of his underlings.
"Urgent news: some of the wizard guild wish to see you."
"Bring them in immediately," replied Tristan, knowing the barons couldn't dismiss this.
Kenji bowed again, and rushed off back the way he had come. He returned a minute later, this time with four wizards. Tristan thought wizards had a curious air about them; no matter who they were or what they looked like, they always looked cool and reserved with those cloaks they wore.
But these wizards were covered in cuts and bruises, and one of them was panting heavily, and another was bleeding profusely from a deep scarlet cut across his chest. Tristan had seen something like it; when Hester had spent been healing for so long one time, that she completely ran out of the energy to channel her spells. He'd never felt it, but he saw the way her eyes were glazed and her skin was paling, and the way she couldn't cope with the unbearable fatigue. Her head swivelled nervously around the room, paranoid. He remembered how insecure Hester had been when she was deprived of the energy to cast.
"Hester, tend to their wounds," he said over his shoulder, but he felt almost obnoxious doing so. But Hester did as requested without complaint. "The guild master?" he asked, looking over the wizards. The eldest couldn't be more than thirty, and the cardinal Master of Geffen was supposedly eighty years old.
"Pardon me, your majesty," said a female wizard with blonde hair and narrow brown eyes. Her posture and her face didn't betray any emotion, but her voice was tired and cracked with woe. "Our Lord Ivas is dead."
"Nonsense!" exploded one of the barons; Meron of Yuno.
One of the wizards, a boy no older than Tristan, raised his head, staring straight at the speaker with hard, glinting icy blue eyes. His glare carried such vehemence and emotion, as did his voice.
"Geffen has fallen," he said, emphasising every syllable with a bite of cold fury. "Undead monsters came pouring out of Geffen tower. There were too many. The Masters grouped together and held them off while the citizens and students escaped. Not many managed it. Most of the Masters were killed in the attack, as you can see. We brought the survivors here; there are few."
"We believe that it is the same way that Arie fell," said the blonde wizard. "We also come to warn you, your Majesty: they are coming for Prontera. You need to fortify your defences."
"How do you know?" asked Kihoto of Amatsu.
"They didn't mean for survivors, that's fairly obvious. But we couldn't stop and rest when we fled, what with a large army marching for Prontera behind us. And they won't stop coming out of Geffen tower."
Tristan thought for a moment; what would be the best course of action? Push them back to Geffen and keep them there.
"When will they arrive?" he asked.
"We are uncertain, but less than a day, your Majesty. I'm sorry we couldn't get here sooner," replied the blonde, bowing.
"Hester, rally the priest guild," he said, his subconscious thrown into panic, but his mind telling him to keep control. "Bring every acolyte you have, and have them ready for battle. Send them to the west gate."
"Yes, your Majesty," said Hester, bowing as she hurried off.
"Kenji, find Shigeru and have him call back the crusaders ready to march for Geffen. Tell them to contain the enemy within the city."
It felt odd ordering around the people who had been his friends all these years. It felt even more so that Prontera was under attack, and he was the one who would have to make the decisions. The survival of the capital city rested on the decisions he made. No pressure there, then.
"With all due respect, your Majesty," grumbled Meron. "But have you lost your mind?"
"What you have me do, baron?" he replied silkily.
"Recalling the crusaders from Morroc? Do you realize what could happen? The streets are crawling with petty thieves, and the assassin guild-…"
"Who have a very strict code of honour."
"And how exactly can we be sure that there even is an attack?"
"Pardon me, sir." The blonde wizard spoke up again, her voice hoarse and impatient. "But our home has been destroyed. The creatures have claimed it as some sort of strong hold. We can never go back there. They have fortified their position, and now they march for Prontera."
"Your proof, wizard?"
"We have been walking for two days without rest, our home is overrun with the undead, and most of the people we knew have been killed," she hissed back at him.
x-x-x
Hester waited with Shigeru, neither of them saying a word. She stood with a hand on her hip and clasping the rosary around her neck. Night had fallen, the sky inky blue and the stars bright.
She incanted the spell of vision, its bright blue flame comforting and warm. It let her see what was at the black horizon. The church had been emptied; every acolyte and priest stood outside the west gate, some of them no older than seven or eight. It was amazing; the vast wall at Prontera's west, a line, bulked and armoured, consisting entirely of people, running all the way along it. The crusaders gripped their swords and shields or spears tightly, some of them eying the acolytes with what could only be pity.
There was a slight stir of the ground beneath them. Shigeru frowned, but thought nothing of it. Hester, not stood in full armour and armed only with a book, shuddered and squinted hard against the darkness of the night and the flame of her spell, thinking of how easily she could be killed.
Slowly, staggering, lurching… the undead army waded into view over the horizon. From where she stood, it looked so huge that it could swallow the city behind her whole, and think nothing of it. The moan of death came drifting closer, and people were starting to notice. A lot of the acolytes were starting to panic, the younger ones wailing; Shigeru and the priests rushed through their numbers calming them. The crusaders remained silent, all eyes on the approaching enemy.
"When was the last time Prontera was at war?" asked Hester, not remembering having to be rallied for battle.
Shigeru chuckled. "I don't think I was even conceived. More than a century ago, it must have been. We've been at peace for so long, but just about every child is sent from an early age to learn to fight."
"God help us," she whispered.
"If all of these acolytes cast all at once, they shouldn't touch us," he replied quietly.
"It's a lot more difficult to remind yourself of that when you have no guerrilla combat skills."
Soon, figures were discernable from the reeling undead. Another sixty yards or so, and they would be upon them. Hester quickly instructed the priests to gather the energy needed for an exorcism spell. They did so, a dim white light forming around each one as they prayed.
They lumbered closer, but it seemed like forever that it took for the gap between the two armies to close. The night slugged on, the stars white, the sky black, and all else beneath them murky grey. The moon wasn't visible.
It was so tense. Hester screamed for the acolytes to start praying, and the priests unleashed their own spells. She watched, transfixed, as pure white light erupted from within the creatures, from where they would lurch and retch, as if they were sick. Then, their decaying bodies would fold in on themselves, and they would fall to the ground as silvery dust. Throughout the army, their souls rose pure and free, and their bodies fell, defeated, to return to the earth. The holy light cascaded through their ranks, decimating, cleansing and illuminating the sky until it became a glorious midday blue. The air was aflame with the groans of the defeated undead, and the beautiful sound of the acolytes' prayers, like the toll of bells and the flutter of angels, so pure and bright.
An army was reduced to a rabble, a rabble was reduced to the remains, and the remains were reduced to dust. Hester felt a triumphant smile begin to flicker into a place. It felt as though everything had slowed down, and she looked over the grounds of their victory.
"We did it," said Shigeru with a smile. "Crusaders!" he shouted. "To Geffen!"
And they left on their vigilant march, and they wouldn't cease until they reached Geffen.
We successfully defended Prontera… We did it…
x-x-x
The prince had prepared rooms for his visitors, and was already out securing accommodation for the refugees of Geffen. Currently, the four wizards were waiting in one of the numerous tearooms of Prontera Castle. Despite how tired each of them was, neither felt like sleeping. They wanted to hear that the defence was successful; it would've been fairly obvious if it wasn't.
The woman who had first spoken was called Elle. Her eyes were narrow and light brown, and her white blonde was straight but flicked out at the ends. She was normally quite chillingly calm, and had a dismissive and almost pessimistic attitude to her life and everyone else's. Her lips were now pursed, determined not to utter a sound, her eyes half closed, and her face emotionless. "If I don't feel anything, I can't feel pain," was what she'd always assured the others. Even after losing her friends and her home, she was determined to keep it up. She was trying to not feel. She leant sullenly against the wall, with her arms folded, looking at nothing.
Jiro sat lazily in a chair. There were tears streaming down his face, but he didn't seem to have noticed. He couldn't care less, it seemed. He was slightly cynical at times, but he teased the others and brought them together in a way. He had red hair and grey eyes, and his build was broad-shouldered and strong beneath his cloak. At the moment, he was the eldest of them, being in his late twenties, but whether he cared or if he even realized was a mystery. The priestess had healed over the wound on his chest, but he had lost a lot of blood and was exhausted.
Pridith sat cross-legged on the floor, endlessly shuffling a deck of Rodusha cards, but she wasn't even looking at them. Normally, her glossy black hair was bound up, but the bandage had been cut sometime during Geffen's destruction. But it was most definitely stupid to worry about hair during such a time, even for a nitpick like Pridith. She'd recovered and was able to cast, but her skin was still quite sallow looking. Her eyes were dark brown, and now her hair was left to fall in strands and curls around her; it easily touched the floor and fanned out across the white stone, like a raven on snow.
Arne regarded his companions, almost fearfully. He thought that maybe he should feel sad, like they were, but he didn't feel anything. He decided that he should be like how Elle normally was, and be strong for the others. The second he had set foot outside of Geffen he was thinking, If only Ivas were here; he'd know what to do. Jiro really should have been the one leading, but Arne was the one to make to the decision; not only that, but the others obeyed him, despite him being their inferior. He knew he had a way over others, some kind of confidence or charisma of some sort. But when things became grave, he didn't expect everyone else to turn to him.
He thought of the priestess, Hester, how she believed in God. Arne couldn't bring himself to believe in God; not now. But he wondered… was it comforting to truly believe? That someone was looking after you from… somewhere? Was that why people believed? Because they couldn't bear the thought that there shouldn't be someone looking out for them?
He thought of the people in Geffen who he had to leave behind. The students at the academy who called him "uncle", who he chided and teased and spoiled and praised. The owner of the tavern, with his slightly grubby skin, so proud of his new born son. He thought of the other Masters, and where they went now that they weren't on Midgard. He remembered reading old fairy tales where someone prays for a loved one who has passed on, and that someone was convinced that their prayer would be answered. Was it delusion? Genuine faith? Desperation? Or was it pure and honest truth? How were they so convinced that they would be heard?
What should I do, Ivas? Where do we go?
He waited for an answer, but air around them remained heavy and grey.
If there was something he didn't know, he went to Ivas, and Ivas told him the answer to his problem. Now, it wasn't so simple. Nothing was simple. Does everything have to be harder than it seems?
He didn't know how long he stood there, drowning in the silence, his mind a commotion of questions and doubts and emotions that he was afraid to show.
"You're all feeling alright?"
It was Hester, the priestess. She stood in the doorway with her hands clasped in front of her.
"Fine," grumbled Jiro, with no life or feeling in his voice.
"You've been through a lot. Our prince is working on the barons to let the refugees stay in the chapel for as long as they need."
There was silence; none of the wizards was sure how to reply, other than with a grateful nod.
"We defended Prontera successfully. We couldn't have been ready for the attack had you not arrived. You have saved many lives."
"Miss Hester?" said Arne.
"Yes?"
"When you pray to your god, does it really give you strength?" He felt he needed to ask.
"Yes," she replied without hesitation. "I suppose none of you have faith in God. It's a great comfort. My faith keeps me strong; I cannot imagine not having it. You draw your strength from yourself. I think you expect too much of yourselves; no one should have to fight on their own."
No… they shouldn't…
X-----X
"… I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"
Ruriko, Draco and the Masters were in the retiring room. Each town had a priest from whom they received messages, since the priests could warp from one place to another with ease. It was the most efficient way of keeping the major cities informed. The priest now frowned or repeated the message to Orius.
"Geffen has fallen. All its inhabitants have either been killed or have fled."
Orius paused and looked to the priest, Canth, again. "How did it happen? Was Master Ivas among the survivors?"
"Monsters came pouring out of Geffen tower and destroyed the town. The Masters assembled to help the citizens escape, but few got out. Most of the Masters were killed. There are about twenty, mostly mages, who escaped, and they are now staying in Prontera Sanctuary. The Masters Jiro, Elle, Pridith and Arne were the only ones to survive of the wizard guild."
"Where are the Masters?"
"Prontera castle. And we have a slight problem…" sighed Canth. "The barons do not want to keep the refugees there for long."
"They what?" said Orius, his voice dangerously low. There was a cold, shuddering anger in his speech.
"They want the mages out of the church as soon as possible," explained Canth. "They don't believe that different castes should be able to relate so closely. And they want the Masters out of the castle. You know how old fashioned the barons are, and Meron's the worst," he grumbled quietly. "How do you put up with him?"
"I keep out of his way when I can," replied Orius flatly. "Flatter him. Go along with what he says. That's the best way to get him to shut up."
"Prince Tristan is working to keep at least the mages in the church…" Canth paused. "But they will not tolerate the wizards for much longer."
"Should they come here?"
" I think that would be the best option. Also, there is still the issue of Culvert."
"It's still overwhelmed then?"
"Yes. We think they are trying a thing similar to Geffen and Arie, but we can't be sure. We still have volunteers coming forward, but we could do with one the more powerful guilds stepping forward. We would be honoured if the sage guild would come forward."
Orius remained silent for a second, then replied, "I can't be rushing off to Culvert, what with Meron to keep an eye on. But I can recommend something as good as." He turned to Ruriko, who shrunk further back into her chair. "Ruriko, I believe the God' Cry can help here."
"The God's Cry? The barons aren't going to be too happy…"
"Do the barons have to know who we are?" said Draco silkily. "For all they know, we could just be some run-of-the-mill guild who are immensely desperate for recognition, or even zenny."
Canth smiled and nodded.
"So, why do you need to keep an eye on Meron?" asked Ruriko, curious.
"The barons aren't happy with Prince Tristan assuming throne now that his father is dying. They're using the fact that King Eirik is still alive to stop him from passing any decree that they don't like. But I think it goes deeper than that." Orius lowered his force, and kept his eyes staring straight ahead, not looking at anyone. "Tristan is the king's only heir, and if they get rid of him, they can manipulate the king to their liking. And once the king dies, there will be no royal family, and it would be so easy for them to assume control of Midgard."
"… Politics bites," grumbled Ruriko.
Canth smiled again, and muttered something, obviously a spell, and in wave of blue light, was gone. Draco chose to say nothing.
She could see something fluttering out of the corner of her eye. She looked over, and found a shadow flitting over the small window at the other end of the room, and recognised the wings of Hawk's falcon. She strode over and let it in, from where it soared straight over to table and perched obediently there in front of Ruriko.
Draco watched briefly as her sister's face lit up, and she seized the note around the bird's leg, so forcefully that it immediately took off and sought refuge on top of one of the bookshelves.
"Hawk sends word then?" said Orius, as Ruriko's eyes flew over the note.
"Yes. We have to go to Comodo. We'll go tomorrow, OK, Sis?"
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