Before I forget, I'd just like to acknowledge that I made a typo last chapter. Soren refers to not being a "Spirit Channeler." What I meant to type was "Spirit Charmer." As for what that is...well, see my POR blog posting.
Hopefully this story will start to come together a little bit this chapter, since I'm introducing the main plot and all.
I don't own any of these guys. They are their own people. Unless they're possessed, which with this crowd happens all too often.
Judecca, Canto IV: Soren
I don't remember falling asleep or even being drowsy. One minute I was in the woods outside Melior, and the next I was standing on a strange black road with the noonday sun baking my back. It wasn't enough that my location had to suddenly change, I guess; he had to go and switch the time of day on me too. Probably just to be as annoying as possible. For a mind so subtle, he can sink to some pretty petty tricks.
Of course, I'm referring to Raistlin. Even back then, how could I have any doubts about who was behind everything? He'd proven his colors to me already. So I guess I wasn't as disoriented as I could've been. I'd been waiting for some kind of trap during our whole conversation. I wondered how I'd sprung it, but soon decided it didn't matter.
Figuring I'd play along for a while to buy myself some time to think, I started down the road, noting how smooth and easy on my feet it was. I'd never seen a substance like it before, and I'd never seen a road marked with paint either. Yet this one had two yellow stripes going straight down the middle, dividing it into two distinct lanes. Nothing passed me as I walked, so I had no way of knowing if I was in the proper lane or not, and I didn't really care either.
For the moment I seemed safe enough, so I let my mind wander a little. Okay. Two sages encountered me in the woods and wanted to hire me. No, not hire. Apprentice. I would have preferred being hired. Clients don't go out of their way to prove their superiority. They try to stay in your good graces. Most of the time their shows disgust me, but I have to admit it's useful...for the mercenary company, at least.
Oh, blast. The mercenary company. I'd wandered off on guard duty, had no way of getting back, and didn't even know why I'd left in the first place (though I instantly suspected Raistlin). Any bandits or other scum wandering the woods would have to be monumentally stupid, or drunk, or both, to attack the Greil Mercenaries after everything we'd done for the country, but the possibility of "phantoms" worried me. There had never been any in those forests before—or anywhere, come to think of it, save in bedtime tales elder siblings would use to terrify the younger—but I couldn't get the sounds I'd heard out of my head. Sort of a swishy, whispering chorus, like something not quite solid was creeping around...
Stop it. This was no time to be developing an imagination. I had to be objective about my situation or I'd fall apart. Deal with the here and now. Ike was not my problem until I was back in Crimea. I'd be no use to them if I got myself killed or stuck in an alien country.
Back to Raistlin, then; Lyon didn't seem to be much of a threat, though I supposed that could be the point, sort of a "good jailer, bad jailer" routine like the farces they conduct in prisons sometimes. What did I know about him?
For starters, that he knew everything about me. No time to take that personally or feel violated, though thinking that didn't keep my heart from being squeezed by thorns, then sparked by timber, a bit. It was just an asset he had. He knew my history, my powers...quite possibly the way my mind worked. How could I combat that? I couldn't. I'd have to find another opening, if one even existed.
He wanted me alive: that was an important factor. He wanted to apprentice me, so he would probably have some ambush lying in wait to prove to me I needed to become stronger and he was just the sage (or Archmage or whatever; labels are stupid) to help me. I sharpened my already razor-alert senses for any possible disturbances—though what a "disturbance" counted for in this world I wasn't sure.
Almost immediately I noticed an oddity. It was, or at least seemed to be--judging by the heat and position of the sun—approximately the same time of the year in this world as it was back in Crimea, and the trees bordering the road were leafy already, but birdsong was absent. In fact, everything was utterly silent. The only noises I heard were my sandals slapping the road, my breathing (labored a bit by the heat under my dark robes), and a faint hammering that I realized with shame was my own terrified heart. What had scared the birds off? Had there ever even been birds here? If not, why not?
That line of thought reached a splintered, dead end. Back to Raistlin, then. What had he called me? Crystal purity? Maybe he didn't know me half as well as he thought. Did he think that just because I disdained mincing words that I couldn't be subtle? A brain has to be every bit as devious as the maneuvers it exposes, or it will remain blind. I could excel at court intrigue if I wanted to. The notion just happened to make me sick. And since there was no way I could defeat him through sorcery, I would just have to outthink him.
Daunting, considering how well he'd humiliated me back at that campfire. But I was ready now...ready for what, though, I wasn't sure of. Which, I realized as my stomach sank, made me not ready at all.
I certainly wasn't prepared for the sight that greeted me as I rounded a bend in the road. I'd crested a hill a while back, and now could see what waited for me in the valley below: a town, though unlike any other I'd ever seen (though that was only to be expected). It sprawled out in a tangled noodly mass of the black roads—some marked, some plain—a blocky community of immense square structures with a single spirelike obelisk in the center sticking up like a beacon above the community. A sign hung on metal poles above the road read, in big blocky letters, NOW ENTERING JUDECCA. Underneath was suspended a smaller sign. WELCOME TO THE GAME.
I stared down at the town called Judecca, guessing the black tower could be Rasitlin's stronghold. It looked like the kind of thing a man like him would erect, and the mention of a "game" on the welcome sign strengthened my hypothesis. Right. Best make this as simple as possible. I'd go there. At least, it was an easy landmark.
No sooner had my foot hit the pavement on the other side of the ENTERING JUDECCA sign than a man materialized next to me. I hopped backwards in surprise, and he reached out and grabbed me, righting my balance. "You okay?" he asked. "Sorry about that; I couldn't help tinkering with the transporter and guess I overdid the coordinates." He looked me up and down and whistled, a long low sign of appreciation, then broke into a huge and not quite sane smile. "Awesome Cosplay getup! Did you sew that yourself or do you really dress like that? Or are you from something? Nataku's hanging with us, but you don't seem like the X type. Lodoss War? Escaflowne? Final Fantasy? Throw me a bone, here! I'm doing the best I can!"
"I'm Soren," I told him bluntly, scrutinizing him in much the same manner though minus the doglike zeal. He was fairly tall—taller than me, at least—with a slightly prominent nose, tiny spectacles, wide eyes, and hair that reminded me of Titania's: wavy, with one long piece hanging down in front and braided in the back, except his was blond. Practically yellow. Under a long white coat he wore a woolen shirt and long trousers, and he had a black choker around his neck with a gold plate on it. Something was engraved on the plate, but I couldn't tell what.
He saw me looking. "Oh, you like it? I do too. It's a Knight. From chess, you know? Chief wanted to make me Bishop, but I said no, that's not flashy and cool, I want to be the Knight, and he let me! Isn't that awesome? Poor Nataku's just Pawn, but he doesn't play chess so that's cool with him. Oh! I haven't introduced myself yet!" Rummaging in his coat pocket, he pulled out a small white piece of firm paper and thrust it at me. "Alexander O. Howell, electronics and weapons specialist, and major otaku on the side! My ideal woman is Shiori from Tokimeki Memorial! Call me Alec! Here's my Pikachu business card."
Whatever. I pretended to pocket the card but really let it slip to the ground behind me. Always a chance it could be enchanted. "What do you want with me?" I asked, but he was listening to something that I couldn't hear, his head cocked. "Okay," he said finally. "Okay. Sure thing, Chief! What? No, no, when I left Nataku hadn't finished painting it yet. He's a freaking genetic experiment, not a crafts buff! Give him a break, Chief!...no, no, I've been good! Not one teensy-weensy bit of time wasting on games!...what was that?...no, I'm not wasting time right now, I've got him right here!...Okay. Okay. We'll be right here. Howell...no, Knight out. God, that sounds cool!" He smiled at me again, and I began to worry. Whoever this man was, he did not seem to be the type Raistlin would hire. Which meant either Raistlin was correctly second-guessing all my analyses...or there was more than one enemy to be had here. Either way, things did not look good for me.
"Hey, Soren? That was Chief. He sent me to meet you and he really wants to see you right now. So, um...here, grab hold of this." He pulled a small silver disk out of his other coat pocket.
"You must think I'm--" I started to say when someone pushed me from behind and my hand landed on the disk. There was a whirring sound, the ground dropped from beneath my feet, and when the stars cleared from my eyes I was standing in a dark hallway with Alec and, I supposed, the man who had pushed me, as he was putting away a "transporter" of his own. I blinked with surprise—he had a forehead mark as well; was he a Branded like me?--then winced as my head began to pound.
Alec's shoulders sagged as he grinned in sympathy. "We're working on that. Pretty soon we'll be able to zap anyone anywhere without giving them a transportation hangover, but until then we're learning to deal. Come on."
"I'm not going any--" But yet again I didn't get to finish my sentence because the maybe-Branded had jumped behind me and wrapped a long thin piece of cloth around my neck. "Do not struggle," he told me, his voice clear and guileless as a child's. Child be blasted! He was strangling me!
"I suggest you listen," came a voice from the wall. Steam hissed from it, a panel slid open, Alec sprang to attention, and "Chief" walked into the room.
Even with a headache and a potentially lethal ribbon around my throat, I couldn't help but stare disdainfully. This was the head of ...whatever I'd stumbled upon?
But he was a mere boy!
O0o00o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
The handcuffs itched, but that wasn't the worst of my problems.
"Look out that window," Chief told me, leaning languidly against the metal wall of the room he had stepped out of. "See the city below? All of that is mine...or would be, if Raistlin Majere hadn't shown up. Ring any bells?"
This was an interesting development, but it wasn't helping me any. Some sort of magic within the handcuffs Alec had slapped on me after Chief had made his entrance was negating my powers. The man-child Branded—called "Nataku" by Alec and "Pawn" by Chief—stayed close by my side, cloth at the ready. And my head still throbbed.
"Raistlin Majere?" I asked, studying the boy in front of me. About my height, he kept his dark blue hair about chin-length, a little shorter in the back, and parted on one side. While his skeletal frame was fragile, he moved with decisiveness and strength; his entire face screamed arrogance, from his wide thin-lipped smile to the cold pinpoint pupils of his eyes. I didn't know what the symbol on his choker meant. "Yes, I've met him. What of it?"
His brows furrowed as his smile widened. "You don't know?"
What had I missed? I had missed something, now I was sure of it.
"Raistlin Majere," Chief said, practically gloating as he savored each word, "has chosen you to be his Champion in the game."
"What game?" I asked hotly, though as I remembered the signs at the entrance I began to put pieces together in my head.
He spread his hands wide. "Why, the game I'm playing. Look. See this?" Walking over to a table, he pressed something on the bottom, and the tabletop hummed. A picture appeared over it: a perfect model of the city. I stole a glance out the window to check something, and there could be no doubt. I was in the tall tower.
He was still talking. "This is my world. Some people do not realize I rule it, and as long as they don't get in my way I'm letting them be. For now. Some people come to me willingly, and the elite I make my prime pieces. You have met two already." He nodded to Nataku and Alec. "And some...some I must control by force." He unclipped a black bracelet from his belt, held it up to show me. "On some I use these. Dark Rings. A marvelous innovation. Simply affix it to the subject and you can control directly. But on others...I am far more subtle." Pressing another button, he smiled as the map zoomed in on a building, which became transparent and revealed four small figures moving around. "See those dolls? They do not realize that whenever I wish it, they must move as I see fit. Sometimes they move of their own free will; it's less of a burden on me if I don't have to keep track of everyone all at once. Yet when I wish it..." He grabbed one of the dolls and tossed it out of the building. Behind me, in the real city, an alarm went off, and I tried to convince myself I hadn't heard someone screaming.
Chief met my eyes. "You see? That's why I am Kaizer and King." He thumbed his choker. "I rule all. Except Raistlin Majere. I can't get to him...or anyone else under his protection. Technically speaking, that should make you my enemy, but I wanted to offer you a chance out of thralldom under him and quite possibly death at my hands when I conquer him at last. Besides, I grow bored of the stalemate between us. You can tip the balance in my favor."
"So you want me to help you run people's lives? It's none of my business," I replied. "What you're doing is heinous but none of my concern. I'll pass. On both allegiances."
"Ah, but it is your concern. You see, if you don't join me...I just might add this piece to my little game. Nataku finished it this morning." Chief—or Kaizer or whatever he wanted to be called—reached into his pocket and pulled out a miniature figure with bright blue hair and a long cape. A sword hung at its side, a sword whose name I knew all too well. Ragnell.
My heart skipped a beat, then tried to make up for the stumble by working overtime.
"Don't you dare," I breathed softly. "Don't you dare drag Ike into this. That's the pettiest, lowest...it reveals you for the scum you are. Place that piece on your board, and I will never join you."
"That's the point," Kaizer grinned, though his face was so twisted by malice it was hard to see the joy. "Weren't you listening? Become Bishop to my King or Ikey-poo here gets dragged into the game. As my slave."
"You...how do you even know about Ike?" I was sick and tired of all these people knowing everything about me when I remained flailing about in ignorance. "Who's your informer? Who would sink so low--"
"Who do you think?" came a familiar, oily voice. From the window. I whirled to face the man hovering there; his beating black wings fanned my ponytails backwards.
"Naesala, you dastard!"
"That's King Kilvas to you, human whelp," replied the dark-clad lord of the raven laguz as he climbed languidly into the room, running his fingers through his hair. "And don't act so surprised. Our paths have crossed enough for you to know my predisposition towards any cause that pays well."
"You pirate. He hired you to find out about me."
"So it would seem." Naesala joined Kaizer, Nataku, and Alec, and I noticed he too wore a black choker. "Majere is on his way," he reported. "And not looking too happy."
"Well done, Rook," Kaizer replied; Naesala bristled slightly at the double entendre but soon had all his feathers smoothed again. "The time approaches, Soren. What'll it be?"
I looked down at the floor, trying to remain impassive and consider my options. I didn't want to turn Kaizer down because of what might happen to Ike. I couldn't grab the figure from him because my hands were bound and my magic nullified. I couldn't join Kaizer, on the other hand, because I didn't want to end up a brainwashed slave myself...though on all accounts saying "yes" to buy time was looking better and better. No one would be hurt but my pride...assuming Kaizer kept his word. And I couldn't join Raistlin's side because...
"This was your intention from the beginning," I accused the black-robed man who had suddenly appeared to my left. "You're using him the way he uses others."
"Do you really consider yourself to be worth that much trouble?" Raistin asked, though he was facing Kaizer. "My motives are not for you to discern."
"That much I'd gathered."
"Majere," spat Kaizer with all the love with which someone might say "Maggots" or "Vermin"...or, on Tellius, "Branded." "Always forcing my hand."
"Kaizer," replied Raistlin. "Always one step behind."
Nataku started at that, but a look from Kaizer and he backed off. "Your would-be apprentice has just been given another offer," Kaizer said. "We're all anxiously awaiting his reply."
I took a gamble, though it appalled every sensible fiber in my being; I wasn't used to having to make decisions with my heart. "Save Ike," I told Raistlin, "and I'll be your apprentice."
"Very well," said Raistlin. "Then let the games begin."
One sweep of his cloak, and Nataku was sprawled on the ground. Another, and Alec joined him. Naesala transformed into his full-fledged raven form but, rather than attacking Raistlin, swooped over his head, out the window, and away. Kaiser screamed as Raistlin raised his staff high and tossed Ike's figurine at the table. I jumped for it, bound hands outstretched, hit the table--
Went flying backwards as what felt like thunder magic exploded into my body and saw stars for the second time in one day as I hit the wall. Bruised but unbroken, I lay stunned for a moment, then opened my eyes.
"Don't move, filth," said Ike, Ragnell's point at my throat. "Finally I can clean my company of the likes of you. No one wants to hire an anathema."
"Ike, no!" I screamed, staring at my only friend's eyes and seeing no life within. "Ike, it can't be--"
"Time for us to depart," came Raistlin's voice, and I felt myself be pulled away and whirled around again. We landed in someone's bedroom, but I didn't notice that at first. I was too busy falling apart...and converting most of the other emotions into anger.
"You promised!" I howled at Raistlin. "You said you'd save Ike!" I was a fool for trusting him, an idiotic bloody blasted fool. "I'll never be your apprentice!"
"Tantrums are for children. Save your breath." Was this man completely unflappable? "I said I would save your precious Ike, and I will. Now was just not an ideal time."
"I can't think of a better one!"
"I needed to be here. The others should awaken soon. Excuse me." He turned and walked away, leaning heavily on his staff and coughing a bit. I wanted to follow him, but a voice in the back of my mind—my normal voice—told me I better have my wits about me when dealing with him, so I needed to at least try to control myself. Running my hands through my hair—when had the handcuffs broken? Had Raistlin done that? Goddess, if I lost my powers of perception I'd have nothing left—I sat on the bed, then jumped up when it groaned. There was a person in it, and he was waking up.
Blue hair, side part, slim build...
He woke up in a hurry as the winds from my spell started tearing at him. "Who are you!" he screamed. "What are you doing!"
"Let him go!" I screamed. "Let him go, Kaizer!" I was going to kill Raistlin. What was Kaizer doing here asleep? He'd brought him?
The sleeper's eyes unfocused, filled with tears—and not just from my spell. "I'm not...I haven't been...what have I done?"
Kaizer's eyes weren't warm like that. And if he'd just gotten there, Kaizer wouldn't have been tucked in. This boy was identical, but he wasn't Kaizer.
I stopped my attack, staring, mind whirling as I tried to understand what was going on. In an adajent room, a door creaked open. Lyon's voice suddenly shouted "Damn it, Raistlin, what did you do?"
"Who's making all that noise?" An angel appeared in the hallway.
"Riley, where'd you put the coffeepot?" A disgruntled-looking man shuffled by, shaded spectacles covering his eyes, his gold hair mussed.
"I didn't touch it. Where are we?" A tall red-haired woman followed the man.
Raistlin and Lyon walked out of the room next to mine. Everyone stared at them and past them, into the room where I still stood over the cut and bedraggled non-Kaizer. Slowly all eyes trained on Raistlin.
"Raistlin," said the boy in the bed, "I think you've got a lot of explaining to do."
o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
a/n: Ouch, that was long. Oh well. Everybody follow it?
I forgot some POR stuff in my last blog, so Naesala's bio and picture are going up today.
Thanks to everyone reading this; I know it isn't as funny as my previous stuff, but once I've finished setting up the plot (which oughta be in a few more cantos or so) I'll start ejecting the humor back in.
Oh, and Alec is a real REM. He's from Ayashi no Ceres, and he really is an otaku (total anime nut)...Ceres was published in '97, so I figured anyone anime whose story is pre-97 he knows "about" (like Nataku) but anyone who came after (like Ken, Soren, and Lyon) he doesn't. And of course no one knows what he's talking about anyway.
Coming up next: a look inside Nataku's mind...and several more (dear lord!) players join the fray, fresh from REMSG headquarters/missions. Some mean well. Others...well, we all know how Roger feels about Raistlin.