Wow, a Ken canto with, like, nooo interior monologue. Must be because this is mainly an expository episode, ne? Poor Ken, though, has had his share of philosophical musings. It's time the boy gets to do something besides whine and get hurt and have guilt. But Lyon, now: Lyon is very selfish in this chapter, something that rarely happens. I will admit that that seems OOC. But put yourself in his shoes, with his reservations, and you might see why I don't think he'd give his all.
This canto is admittedly a bit choppy, as well; I'm working with a major time restriction tonight but wanted to get it up anyway. My apologies. Next week should be better, though.
Judecca, Canto XII: Ken
"Apprentice, come here." With some shock I realized that Raistlin was speaking to me, and immediately hurried to his side. Had he changed his mind about me in just one night? He'd certainly had time to do so; I'd heard him from my bed, coughing and hacking in his room as I tossed and turned. From the circles under Lyon's eyes as I passed him on the stairs, I hadn't been the only one kept awake, either.
"Yes, Raistlin?" I asked, arriving in his study and wondering if I should call him "master." He'd seemed to like it when Soren had...but I chafed at the bit of forming that word in my mouth. I'd forced the being dearest to me to refer to me that way for far too long, and had sworn never to call or be called that again.
Raistlin looked up from the book he was studying, one of the texts we'd borrowed from Yuka. "Inform Soren that we shall not be working at the library today. I have placed Lyon in charge of that task for the time being. Also, warn Feanor that he will have to contribute more today; Yamaki shall be quite busy, I think."
That was it? But...what were Soren and I doing, then? "Um, yes, sir," I replied, bowing and quickly exiting. One thing at a time, Ken. He doesn't know what you can do yet, and neither do you. It's only right that you play messenger for now.
"Feanor?" Timidly I knocked on the door to the room he and Cupimon shared; the monster was already in the kitchen, trying to "help" Riley make waffles but mostly just getting batter everywhere. A string of Elvish curses greeted my summons, but I nudged the door open anyway. The dark-haired elf glared at me from where he lay in a tangle of bedsheets; one hand groped for the hilt of his sword on the ground, which was littered with...tissues?
"Have you been crying?" I asked, concerned, noticing redness around his grey eyes. Growling in reply, he rose from the bed, smoothing his mussed black hair and braiding it behind his back. Though he made no formal answer, I had a pretty good guess as to what was going on. He missed Maedhros. My heart went out to him in sympathy; I too knew what it was like to not truly appreciate someone until they were lost to you. But judging by the dark looks he was giving me, the last thing he wanted to do was share his sorrows with someone who felt the same. I would pay dearly for stumbling upon this moment of weakness. Best just to give my message and be gone, then.
"Um, you don't have to get up yet if you don't want to...but Raistlin said to let you know that..."
"Do not mention that name in my presence." His voice rose sharply from a hiss to a command. "His presumptuousness shall cost him severely enough without my having to strike you down as well for being snared in his webs of deceit. None may order Feanor son of Finwe where they will. Now leave me! I have much to ponder."
Translation: I hate that man and will shoot the messenger if I must to get my point across, but right now all I want is to be alone with my self-pity. Clear enough. I shut the door quietly, murmuring an apology, and sighed. Some apprentice I was turning out to be. Hopefully whatever we were doing today might make up for...
"HOLY CRAP! Did you SEE the SIZE of that thing?"
Now what had gotten Cupimon so worked up? This day had only started, and already it was giving me a headache. Wearily I dragged myself downstairs to see what new disasters lay in store.
Perhaps I was adjusting to life in Judecca too quickly. A giant raven sat on the back deck, a package held tightly in one clawed foot, and I didn't even blink—which is more than can be said for Cupimon, who from the looks of him and his surrounding area had fallen into the waffle batter. Raistlin, perfectly calm, was signing a clipboard and attaching a purse to the top, then handed it back to the raven. "Paid in full, King Kilvas. Take care your Master does not catch you at this activity."
"Beorc filth," snarled the raven around its beak, exchanging the clipboard for the wrapped object with some awkwardness—he seemed reluctant to cross our threshold. "I'll bet your gold is counterfeit."
"Ah, but then our deal would be void," Raistlin replied, left eyebrow arched. "And gold is so unreliable. I paid in steel."
The raven snapped his beak in spite, then huffily lifted himself off, shedding blue-black feathers all over the deck. Raistlin watched him vanish into the distance with a wry smile, then turned around and departed for his study, package clutched tightly to himself.
"What did he want?" Soren asked, coming up from behind me and picking up a black feather. "The greedy traitor."
"You know him?"
"He sold out his best friend when I first met him. Then he sold out Ike." Soren crushed the feather in his fist, let it drift limply to the ground. "He'd do anything for the right price."
"Doesn't everyone?" Raistlin was back already, and shoving heavy cloaks into our hands. "Now come, apprentices. We have much to do while the day is still young."
"I won't go." Soren dropped his cloak on top of the crumpled feather, stalked over to the mess Cupimon had created and helped Riley begin to clean it up. "You're my teacher, not my lord."
"And here I selected you for your loyalty...very well. Ken, fetch Lyon. We shall need more than one pair of eyes for our task today."
"Which is what, sir?" I asked, slinging on the heavy dark-red cloak and picking up the black one Soren had dropped.
Raistlin smiled and produced from a pocket the object given him by the raven, stroked it lovingly. "Reconnaissance."
o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
"So...what is it?"
We stood in a clearing within the forest surrounding Judecca, Lyon and I on either side of Raistlin as he held aloft what looked like a smoky greenish marble. "An ancient artifact, created at a terrible cost," he replied in his whispering voice. "A magnet or a repellant, depending on one's will. The only reliable tool for calling upon..." His voice dropped. "Dragons."
Lyon gave a little, very un-necromanterish shudder. "D-dragons? Um, I've hurt dragons in the past, and don't know if I want to be seen by..."
"Do you think I would be so foolish as to call a stranger dragon to my side? No, I have an associate, who like you has slipped from the realms of the breathing and wearies of the later planes of life. I should think he will find this diverting...Now, apprentice, watch carefully. Mastering a dragon orb, and through it a dragon, is a test of will before all other functions. Either you control...or you are controlled. And my associate has controlled better men than you before."
How's that for a self-esteem booster? But I hadn't agreed to follow Raistlin for his charming personality and people skills. I liked him—I needed him—for his power. And of that he could not be doubted. So I stepped back, eyes wide, and watched as the orb grew in Raistlin's hands until he needed to hold it with both, stared into it with him as he began his incantation.
"Ast bilak miopalaran/ Suh akvlar tantangusar!"
The mists swirled, and with them my vision; I could almost see wings beating within the green smoke, coming closer, defining themselves...
"Ast bilak miopalaran/ Suh akvlar tantangusar!"
Smoky hands issued from the orb, grappled with Raistlin; sweat beaded like diamonds on his golden skin, but he remained calm, forceful. Commanding. Everything I could never be.
"Ast bilak miopalaran/ Suh akvlar tantangusar!"
It was the hands' turn to waver. Raistlin's voice rose like the crashing of the sea. Lyon yelled and pointed; something was slowly descending from the heavy blanket of clouds above the trees. Then, just as suddenly, Raistlin's voice wavered: he'd been holding back a cough but could do so no longer.
"Ast bilak miopalaran/ Suh akvlar--"
The dragon faltered, intelligent bilious eyes surveying us hungrily.
"--tantangusar!" I finished, slapping my hands next to Raistlin's on the orb and staring into it with all my might. Through the orb's pulsing surface, I could feel the dragon's mind probing, testing the fool who had come between it and its summoner. Not Raistlin, I told it, forcing all my anger at Kaizer and myself into the words; the dragon's mental claws raked my brain, seeking the source of the rage. I let him have it. Kaizer—Wormmon—Sam—everyone I'd hurt—how much I'd hurt myself—You won't take Raistlin! This is what I have to atone for! And I am not dying, am not giving up, until all this pain has been burnt away! This is what I am, what I have become. I am a controller, not a pawn. And I will not be stopped by the likes of you!
It may have been my imagination, but as it gave in I thought I felt the dragon smile.
o0o0o0o0o0o
"Are we looking for anything in particular?" Lyon called over the howling wind; the dragon harrumphed, and Raistlin looked like he wanted to echo the sound. The more timid mage had been on his guard ever since the dragon's appearance and showed no signs of relaxing. I couldn't blame him, but my worries were a bit more pathetic. Rather than fretting over the obedience of our transport, I was certain I was going to fall off. Between the spikes natural to the dragon's back, Raistlin, and Lyon, there wasn't much room left for me.
As it was, I sat between the two men, huddled in my cloak and glad Raistlin had thought to supply me with it: it was cold high above the treetops, despite the heat from the still-too-warm Judecca sun. Raistlin had thought of everything...except me. He hadn't reckoned on me. Had I destroyed his plans or played right into them?
"Not especially," Raistlin replied, remarkably coherent despite his inability to raise his voice in normal speech. "Though I should think the sight of us would draw any ill-wishers closer, so be on your guard."
How could I have been so stupid? He wanted us to be attacked. It was that simple. Suddenly I saw his plan, clear as the calculus problems on my still-unfinished papers at home: He was testing us again. Set us up as bait. And the dragon...
"Where'd you get this orb?" I asked, innocently enough, I thought. "How did you know it would be here?"
Raistlin looked back at me. "...From Kaizer," he replied. "But it was originally mine. I won it long ago." How long had he been fighting Kaizer, then? How long had this...menace with my face been terrorizing this world? I opened my mouth to ask, but was cut off when Lyon gave a shout, and bright light flashed behind me: he'd cast a spell.
Craning my neck, I saw what had alarmed him: a trio of giant ravens, black wings beating straight for us, had come up behind the dragon and screeched a challenge. Two of the birds had riders: Maedhros and the black-haired woman who had helped Raistlin get home when he'd been...sick. The bird leading the small group, however, was riderless, and I recognized the gleam in its eye and the necklace around its neck: this was the one who'd dropped off the orb. Apparently Kaizer had found out and now sought to ensure his servant's loyalty. I was surprised at the mercy. The Digimon Emperor would have simply killed the thing...
Raistlin cursed as Maedhros drew his sword, and again as it burst into flame. The trio charged us, and the dragon dipped to meet the challenge. I grabbed onto a spine and screwed my eyes shut.
"Cyan, no!" I heard Raistlin command. "I'll handle this myself. I want them alive!"
"RAISTLIN!" Lyon screamed; I felt black velvet brush my cheek as Raistlin's soft voice shouted "Pfeatherfall!" Opening one eye a crack, I saw the lead bird balk as the mage landed squarely on his back, grabbed the beaded necklace hanging there, and attempted to steer. "My apologies, King Kilvas. I am every bit as mortified but—this—must—stop!"
"Raistlin! Please! Come with us!" the woman pleaded. "Us"? She was on...Kaizer's side? But she'd helped Raistlin before!
"Uh, Ken?" Lyon asked as I watched the scene: now completely ignoring the dragon, the two ravens sought to rid their leader of his unexpected burden. "Who's controlling the dragon?"
The orb was right where Raistlin had left it, somehow staying perfectly balanced on the dragon's neck. "You're the mage!" I called back, but Lyon shook his head. His face was white and his eyes sunken as he stared at it.
"I can't...I can't...not after the Dark Stone...Ken, I'm not strong enough..."
"You're going to have to be!" I snapped at him as the dragon, testing its limits, began to whip its long neck around, seeking to toss us off. "I've never had training!"
"But you finished the spell," protested Lyon, grabbing a spine and holding on tight. "And you're closer. If I tried to reach it, I'd fall off."
"I can't," I started, but the dragon snorted again and I thought I saw amusement in those vicious eyes. Well. So be it, then. Carefully inching my way to where Raistlin had sat seconds earlier, I placed both hands on the orb and braced myself for the worst. The magic words, though I remembered them, were alien and heavy on my tongue as I spoke. I tried to clear my mind, but all I could think was Help me! Someone help me!
And to my surprise, somebody answered.
O0o0o0o0o0o
Cyan Bloodbane? the dark elf's voice in my head asked. Raistlin summoned Cyan Bloodbane from beyond the grave? How very like him. He grew droll, or as droll as Dalamar could be. And then he set you up, to test you. Though I am shocked at his choice of apprentices.
"He didn't ask for me," I told my ex-interviewee wearily. This had all been too easy. There was no way I had mastered this artifact so completely that a frantic wish could summon the voice of Raistlin's old apprentice to my head. Something was rotten in the state of Judecca, and I was determined to find out what...assuming I lived to the end of the day. "And I still need help." The dragon had changed tactics: rather than attempting to throw us off, he engaged in open battle with the ravens, trying to get Raistlin back but bound to the man's command to keep our opponents alive. Apparently Cyan Bloodbane wasn't used to such a restriction and as a result performed abysmally: he couldn't hit a single bird. Lyon had shot off a few more blasts of dark magic, but I noticed he was refraining from his trademark sea of phantoms. He was letting his fear cripple him. And we couldn't have that. We needed him...
Since when had this war become a matter of "we"?
You aren't listening to me! Dalamar hissed, and I redirected my attention to the orb in my hands. Order the dragon to land with your thoughts. Then we can discuss this situation further. I must say, your predicament is...unique. I would not have expected this of him...but he has always delighted in doing the unexpected. I wonder especially about your ability to contact me, as he did when back in time with that very artifact...an artifact which was by all accounts destroyed by his own hands.
"Ken?" Lyon asked shakily. "Look behind Maedhros. Is that what I think it is?"
I looked. "Oh dear. Cyan, take us down to that raven. Can you catch that raven?" Catch that raven. Catch that raven. So that was why Raistlin needed to get close...
What? What now?
"Our enemies have a prisoner."
Perfect. You're lucky I haven't anything better to do today, boy...and that I've waited a long time for a chance like this. Dalamar's smug tone told me the elf, wherever he was, was grinning from ear to pointed ear. Finally, a chance to be the one operating in secrecy...the one who'll end up on top.
I could see where that train of thought was heading. My stomach sank. This situation was complicated enough already! "So you want me to help you figure out what Raistlin's up to."
Oh, I wouldn't put it that way. It's a fair trade: I'll aid you in your magical studies, and you...well, together we'll prove just exactly how well Raistlin Majere's apprentices can operate. Perhaps even that they've outstripped their master...First, let's save that blasted prisoner. Then we can talk.
O0o0o0o0o0o
Ground. I liked ground. I never wanted to leave it again.
"Keep that," Raistlin told me, handing me a drawstring bag containing the dragon orb. Cyan had departed for parts unknown. His job, at least for today, was done: the prisoner had been captured (by Raistlin; Cyan mostly just got in the way) and the ravens sped off to their keep, or wherever Kaizer was housing them. Which left me with a connection to Dalamar, Lyon with shame for being utterly useless when he could have solved the situation all by himself, and Raistlin with a babbling prisoner.
"They took them," the boy kept saying. "I have to get them back. You don't know what they'll do with them!"
"Oh, I know exactly what they'll do," Raistlin said crossly. "Kaizer will lock them in his chest with the rest of his little prizes and dream of the day he can unlock their powers, but for now he'll let that power lie wasted behind walls of fire. We're safe, but you'll never see those Spirits again."
"You don't understand," the boy argued. "I need them!" Tears welled up in his blue eyes; he wiped his nose on his red sleeve and continued. "Please, you must help me get my Spirits back. Koji's coming for me, and if he finds out I lost them...when they've caused so much trouble already...he'll hate me." Looking sheepishly downward, the boy with his shaggy head of blue hair suddenly reminded me of myself. Lost, hopeless, ashamed, fearing...
I put my hand on his shoulder and met Raistlin's eyes. "We're getting them back," I told him. "What Kaizer stole. We're breaking in and we're getting those Spirits or whatever back."
The boy's head lifted in hope; Lyon's swiveled in astonishment; Raistlin's tilted back in mocking laughter. "And how do you plan on achieving that goal?" he asked.
"I don't care if we burn his headquarters down. I don't care if we jump through windows. But I'm tired of Kaizer walking all over this town—and you, too." Maybe my discussion with Dalamar had made me too rebellious for my own good, but I had to remember my priorities, too. And I had a dragon now. How could Kaizer stand up to that? "If you know everything about him before it happens, like you seem to, why haven't you defeated him already? Why do you even care?"
"You wouldn't understand. You don't need to." Considering the discussion closed, Raistlin turned away.
"Why does Kaizer have my face?" I screamed at his retreating back as he exited the clearing. "Who is he? Why are you fighting him? What's your stake in all this?"
Raistlin glanced back. "What's yours?"
I seethed. "I think you know," I growled. "I know you know."
"Precisely. It is for that reason I took you on as an apprentice. Why did you offer yourself to me? Because you knew I would use what little help you could offer. You sensed my stakes here were high. And they are—higher than you will ever know. Too high to risk my life on a suicide mission for a tagalong!"
"You rescued him," I challenged. "You took on his problems."
The boy stepped between us. "Please don't fight because of me--"
"They aren't." It was Lyon's turn to console. Raistlin glared at him.
"Now you speak up. I brought you along because I thought you might be useful!"
The fact that I was harboring the same resentment against Lyon didn't matter. Raistlin wasn't getting off the hook by criticizing someone else. Not on my watch. "Let's just take him home and talk about it," I said as evenly as I could. "See what the others think. But I'm going in—alone, if need be."
"Oh, you won't be alone," Raistlin replied haughtily as we all started down the road. "I think one individual in particular will be most eager to aid you in your...revenge."
"Who?" I nearly asked, fearing he knew about Dalamar but catching myself in time. Raistlin meant an elf, all right. But it wasn't the elf I was thinking of. It was an elf, thrown just as involuntarily into his path, who was too proud to admit he hurt but too hurt to pretend nothing had happened. An elf who was just insane enough to help my admittedly insane idea. An elf who cried in his room only when he thought no one would hear
"Feanor and me," I marveled, kicking at a stone in the road. "That ought to be fun."
o0o0o0o0o0o
a/n: I think I'm gonna end it there tonight, folks...if only because I've, um, run out of time. I seriously stuck my laptop in my bag and took it to class with me so I could work on this before the class started...lame. So everything I wanted to include in this, I'll put with the next canto involving these guys.
That won't be the next one, however. For the first time, we bring you...ROGER! Yeah, that's right. Roger and Nataku in a singles bar...and Nataku meets a girl...and then Lyon shows up...it's gonna be fun.
I promise better quality next time. I'm ashamed, so good night.