Chapter Three

Exposure

Author's Note: Who loves ya, baby? I hope it was worth the wait.

Sincerely, Lobo

--

Albel dragged his tired and mentally defeated body down the long winding hallways of Airyglyph castle, passing by the occasional lone soldier who stiffened like a board when they crossed paths. When he passed by two or more soldiers, whatever conversation they had been discussing seconds prior ceased immediately and they also locked up.

There had been a point in his life, not much younger than he was now, when he relished the publicity. The fear that his name struck into the hearts of all who heard it was his greatest accomplishment. Speaking his name outside of the castle was the equivalent of a swear word and children would get slapped the same for saying it. Those days, when he had no pressing business to attend to, he would simply wander around the city and cause havoc, usually without even raising a hand. Albel the Wicked just passing by your home, your produce stand, you and your buddies, was enough to incite panic.

Not much had changed in that regard, the difference now was that Albel knew that he still had that impact on people but was growing increasingly indifferent towards it. He hadn't left the castle in well over a month now just because of that.

Well, there was that other reason…

"Get out of my mind, you stupid child!" Albel grunted under his breath, slicing his dull iron claws across the partition he had been slinking by, nicking a corner off of a weathered painting of King Airyglyph III before he realized he had shouted aloud and stopped his movement, retracting his arm like a dog had been smacked for hopping up on the dinner table. He sighed and brushed the wayward locks of his blonde highlights away from his eyes, looking up at the ceiling with a groan and exhaustingly wiping his face.

"Stupid child, thinks he can just stroll up into my world and take it over…what made him such a damn hero anyway!"

"You don't have to be modest, Albel. I'll miss you too. I wasn't lying when I said I didn't hate you."

"Maybe I hate you, eh Fayt? After all, you pretty much embody everything I despise about the good guy."

"That's fine, you can hate me. But that doesn't mean you still didn't earn a friend throughout all this."

Albel shook his head to dispel that gushy conversation from his mind and continued on. His mind completely absent, he wondered how much farther it was to the gathering hall. He had been living in Airyglyph castle for neigh ten years now and could navigate its endless cobblestone corridors blindfolded, he just couldn't focus then. Not only was the cause for that forgetfulness a source of personal humiliation for him, but also that boy from another world had been at the forefront of a maelstrom of unwanted memories that had plagued him sense he returned from that dreadful "other world".

Finally, he had the reinforced door of the auditorium in sight, and with a grateful sigh he picked up his pace just enough to stumble forward and collapse against it, his claw digging four narrow grooves into the woodwork as he slid down it helplessly.

Albel's chest was on fire, and though he knew the reason for it deep in the back of his mind he couldn't bring himself to admit it, to expose himself to that weakness. He wasn't that type of person, and he refused to ever become that type of person. He knew what people had been saying about him behind his back, that he was becoming soft and didn't have the moxy to command the Black Brigade any longer. The old Albel Nox would have personally tracked down each individual in question, force them to admit what they had rumored, and then gutted them like a fish.

But the new Albel Nox couldn't bring himself to feel any animosity for these gossipers at all.

Albel again rose his head to the ceiling, but this time his eyes were more intent, as if he were looking to see someone looking back down at him. "You've corrupted me with your kindness, you miserable brat. I hope you're happy."

Albel rose to his feet and glared at the door in front of him; every fiber of his being wanting to back away from these god-awful interviews and combat challenges and just go get some sleep. And the old Albel Nox probably could have gotten away with it not only with the king but with himself as well.

The new Albel Nox, however, gritted his teeth at the obligation he had made and pushed open the door.

The room was massive, larger both in height and width than the courtyard outside of Airyglyph castle. The walls were devoid of the customary tapestries that dotted every other available spot in the castle – exactly twenty-two feet away from the last – but instead had racks of weaponry, training equipment, two regulation-sized battle pits at the two opposite sides of the room, and was always occupied with some grizzled soldier looking to impart his war-honed wisdom upon anyone who asked it.

Albel always thought it was kind of stuffy.

And though he did not like the room itself, this time it was different. Of all the new hopefuls looking to earn or cheat their way into the ranks of the Black, Storm, and Dragon Brigades, few of them turned to look at him when he entered, and of those few none of them had that familiar look of terror on their faces. It was instead replaced with determination, self-confidence (occasionally over-confidence), and a yearning to surpass no matter the cost. It was almost heartwarming, and once again Albel chided himself for even thinking that.

Albel closed the door behind him and looked up to the center of the room, where Arzei Bohnleid XIII, King of Airyglyph, sat in his throne, surrounded by his usual group of four or more tenants and two of this three generals: Valon of the Dragon Brigade and "Hammer" Terry of the Storm Brigade. Both had become quite comfortable with their new positions and were not shy about flaunting their power, especially Hammer, who was already quite famous for his bar brawling.

But Albel had seen more than enough of his fair share of those two idiots already. His attention was more directed towards the young prospect kneeling in front of the king, requesting (or begging) something of him. The king looked more than a little flustered at whatever the request was but Albel didn't need to hear what the boy was saying to have a good idea what it was about. The way his shoulders were squared, the fact that his right hand clenched a dagger and his fingers were twitching around the hilt, and the hairs on the back of his neck were standing straight up. These were signs of nervousness and popular among rookies, a prelude to battle.

Come to think of it, Albel had thought he saw the boy look at him out of the corner of his eye when he walked in.

And as quickly as that thought crossed his mind the boy darted up, much to the surprise of the king he had been offering fealty to a moment prior, and rushed at Albel with the knife held above his head.

The reaction certainly startled Albel a bit, but even at his worst he was still a better swordsman than anyone else in the kingdom, most certainly a sparsely trained beginner. Perhaps now was the time to prove that he was still the man everyone once so greatly feared.

"Well, maybe just for today."

Now that was a humorous thought. That hadn't been his own voice urging him into dirty deeds, but rather Fayt's.

Not even moving his fastest, Albel stepped to his side and caught the boys' plunging hand with his own flesh and blood one then tripped him with a swift kick across his ankles. Before the apprentice's face had time to change from one of muddled confidence to one of unbridled confusion, Albel gave the simplest tweak of his own hand to snap the boys' wrist like a twig, then caught the dagger falling from his hand and held it too his throat which, like the rest of his body, was now on the ground.

Only when the entire show was over did the boy realize what had happened and was able to comprehend the pain he was feeling. He screamed, and Albel closed his eyes and reveled in it.

"Something the matter, dear boy? Oh, it must be your life flashing before your eyes." Albel drawled as if musing to an old friend."I know, it is never as long in your mind as when you actually lived it."

The entire facility had turned its attention to the spectacle taking place mere paces in front of the entrance and some of the apprentice's friends were trying to advance on Albel and his prisoner held at knifepoint. The guards kept them at bay, however, and in that respect they did their job. Casualties at these interviews were unavoidable, especially with pretentious upstarts like this wandering around. Plus they just knew better.

By this time the old Albel would have killed the little punk and been done with it. But the new Albel couldn't bring himself to bring down that blade. Still, he couldn't lose face in front of so many of his subordinates so he did the next best thing. He chopped off the kid's ear.

The bloodcurdling howl resonated off the walls of the building as Albel stood up off of him, scarlet-tinged blade in one hand and a severed ear in the other, looking at it adoringly. With a shrug he dropped both to the ground carelessly and wandered into the crowd, which knew that it needed to resume what it was doing prior or else any one of them could be next. Two nurses rushed to the boy's side and to his credit, he resisted their help up until he fainted.

"Anyone else?" He asked calmly, and upon seeing no one taking him up on that offer, he shrugged and looked over his shoulder at the young prospect. "I'll be keeping my eye on you as well," Albel said under his breath, stepping off and walking towards the center of the room, passing the king's seat and looking up at him with a ever-pleased grin.

"We'll have a long and serious discussion about your behavior later, Albel." The king sighed and slumped in his chair. "And I thought these days had finally come to an end."

Chuckling to himself, Albel crossed through the group ahead of him, which parted to allow him through, unimpeded. He crossed his hands behind his back and marched through the hopefuls, looking up and down each that was strong in body, confident, and didn't lower their gaze when he met theirs. That was the true test and they knew it. Still, it was a difficult objective to look into that madman's eyes.

Continuing his evaluation, Albel stopped in front of one boy he already knew from earlier that day. He looked much different with his father's tarnished armor on and a sword on his hip, but tired as he was Albel wouldn't forget Zeke. He didn't say anything, simply stared the boy down until Zeke finally gave a quiet whimper of defeat and looked away. With a scoff, he proceeded on.

Towards the end of the line now, Albel had for the most part already looked ahead and saw no one else of interest save one individual at the end. A female, he believed, adorned in silver armor. He stopped and stood directly in front of her, raising a curious eyebrow as he peered at her face hidden beneath night-black hair and a gray scarf encircling her lower features.

But that wasn't what gave her away.

It was those daggers, sheathed in twin scabbards and buckled to the small of her back. Albel had always had an eye for fine smithery and the Blades of Ryusen were unmistakable, even holstered as they were. Funny, he wasn't surprised that she had been so damn bold as to attempt to sneak into the castle but that she had done such a poor job at disguising herself.

Albel was feeling better already. The slight grin he had been wearing before broke into a full-on smile. He leaned in close, getting his lips less than an inch from her ear and heaved, his breath parting her hair away. "That's a nice pair of daggers you have there. Don't forget to take care of them."

He said nothing more, nothing that would directly lead her to believe he knew who she was, but enough that the thought would keep her from getting any sleep tonight.

--

Nel watched as Albel walked off and the crowd, still visibly shaking at his presence, closed in again and resumed their chatting. What had just happened was something she couldn't explain. Had she been exposed, recognized by him, or was that really just an admiration of her weaponry? Doubtful, but it was clawing at the back of her mind and she immediately thought of aborting the mission. She had already registered, but one no-show wouldn't be thought much of.

Then again, she hadn't learned anything either.

She couldn't return to her comrades without something to report, and she certainly couldn't face Clair who had been the chiefest of many people who did not think she was physically and mentally able to undertake such a daunting infiltration so soon after her return from 4D space. Nel, of course, lied about her condition, saying that she was 100 and more than capable of the job. The truth involved admitting that her journey with her off-world companions had taxed her to the extreme was admitting weakness and that was not something she could do.

She reconsidered. Albel hadn't exposed her when he could have. If he did, every guard in the castle would have had her adorning the tips of their spears, so maybe he really didn't recognize her. Or, which would be much more along the lines of his personality, he did but felt like prolonging her experience here in every humiliating and torturous way he could.

Or it could be a third option: that he had shown her mercy and wanted her to escape before anyone else recognized her. But this was Albel Nox she was thinking about and mercy was not in his vocabulary.

"Did we part on good terms?" She asked.

"What?"

Nel jumped a little as a man who could be described as nothing short of a giant loomed over her with a look of concern mixed with confusion.

Nel smiled and waved him off. "S-sorry…talking to myself."

The giant grunted and turned back around, resuming whatever conversation he had been having with another person who couldn't even been seen in front of him.

That little confrontation offered her another reminder of the current situation, not one that had no real basis or at least no definitive answer. Regardless, she decided she wouldn't leave. She had to stick it out a bit longer and continue with what she had been sent there for. She had to determine the threat that Airyglyph presented as far as stealing the runological weapon blueprints. Only then could she go home.

Suddenly, all the noise around her slowly tapered off and was silent. King Airyglyph confided with his two present generals and then with Albel when he took his seat on the platform as well. Woltar, who had been standing behind the king for some time, offered no advice, figuring it would have been unwelcomed anyway. The king rose from his seat and stepped down. He turned around to his three generals and nodded. "They are yours now, my friends. Make sure they all earn their keep."

Nel gulped. She didn't think the king could say such harsh words with even harsher undertone. The room was quiet as death until the king strode across the room, followed closely by hisattendants,and flung open the door. He stepped out andthen closed it soundly behind him.

Doubtless anyone outside of the building would have thought war had just been declared.

It reminded Nel of her basic training days in the Secret Legion. Lining up in a row to perform push-ups, group sit-ups, and just for the effect Hammer occasionally walked around and kicked some poor unsuspecting trainee in his teeth, putting him or her out of the race for no real reason at all. And after a solid three hours of this, Nel was more than a little tired, but it didn't come as much of a surprise when Valon stood up and began to recite partners who would do battle.

Valon was a tall and narrow man with a high arched brow and a perpetual sneer on his face. The lapel of his russet Dragon Brigade armor was ringed with white fur, as were the tops of the shoulders. Hammer thought he was brilliant and stepped to the beat of no one's drum but his own. Albel knew he was really a suck up who only got to where he is by bribing and knocking off his competition. The king did as well, but they both decided it would be better to constantly assault him with problems that they didn't think him capable of performing alone. Somehow, he had thus far managed, but the game was not yet over. Albel had many more tricks in store for him. He only hoped his sanity lasted that long.

"Group one! Ramanda and Lorne! Get to the southeast arena!"

The crowd moved for the two prospects, amidst various insults and prodding. Anything to make the competition lose focus.

"Group two! Maria and—"

"Me."

Albel stood up from his seat. Nel's eyes went wide. Maria was the name she used on the registry. Another thing she should have seen coming.

"So that's why he didn't want the guards to kill me. He wanted to do it himself." Nel thought and crossed her legs, standing up with much less grace than normal, her face shining with sweat and the coal coloring in her hair was forming large viscous droplets off the ends of her normally ruby locks.

"Maria. That's a pretty name." Albel chuckled and stepped down from the platform, his metal digits tapping on the end of the Crimson Scourge's hilt. "Did that come from your mothers side?"