Disclaimer: I don't own Fairy Tail and none of its cast. In retrospect, someone will one day pick on Hiro Mashima's brain and see where it all came from I tell y'all. Is someone reading this 100 Years Quest? I, for one, am not, so I'm willing to ask you readers; is it any good? Are there any relevances and new elements important to the FT universe?
Indomitable Heart
Chapter 16: Dead Men Walking
(Northeastern Bellatoria – Southern Road – Outer Fields of Duranius)
The upcoming autumn breeze carried fine drops of dew, each a promise of the weather to come. Forest floor welcomed the first few yellowing leaves, soon to be joined by the rest of their ilk. Clouds moved across the graying sky, and even in the early morning it would seem that the rays of sun will not reach ground on this day.
The lone critter scurried tirelessly, hoping to come by the opportune time of finding an early snack before any remaining predators of the night spot him.
''A-Achoo!''
The sudden noise brought all the hairs up in panic as it quickly retraced the steps back to the safety of the warm, underground lair.
Meanwhile, Sevius was busy with wiping his nose with the back of his hand.
''That could have been a fine meal.'' Kastos lamented, his careful posture going slack now that the pray has escaped, ''Why did you even bother following?''
Feeling his nose still clogged, Sevius blew hard and shook the residue nasal mucus from his fingers, Kastos frowned in disgust, ''It was a choice between you or sitting and listening Ganicus. I could live without his morning complains.''
Kastos snorted, partly peeved at the loss of a quarry, ''And you find my company fascinating... Truly, it moves heart, but you should try with Argos next time.''
''Huh?'' It took another full ten seconds for a snappy Tracian to add two and two, ''Hey, fuck yourself, you Galian shit! If Kore didn't spread her legs for you, your ass would only know cock!''
''Highly doubtful.'' The beefy man said, trying to focus on finding at least something to spear, even as small as for four to five bites, yet with all the clamor Sevius brought, there seemed to be no point. ''Lower voice, will you, if we are found it would be your fault.''
The irate man scowled, but took heed on the other gladiator's advice. The forest wasn't that big, more of a large grove than anything. Still, his people were of plains and meadows, the stuffed spaces filled with trees, dead branches and a bunch of jutted ground annoyed him. ''This place is beginning to vex me...''
Rolling his eyes, Kastos sighed through his nose, you are beginning to vex me is what he wanted to say yet, ''Then go back to the main camp. You cannot put blame to forest for being here at your inconvenience.'' Gods help him but he was this close for shutting him up for good.
''Not surprising of people that dwell in smelly marshlands.'' A new argument would have taken place had Kastos's attention been on his companion, fortunately that he tried to divide the task of listening to the surrounding area when a wood snapping sound was heard.
''Someone approaches...'' He muttered, suddenly very alert. He motioned for Sevius to get down and follow behind only to find him still rooted in spot and looking very much carefree. ''Gods, give me strength...'' Uttering a small prayer, Kastos made calm strides toward Sevius and with a forceful yank, pulled him to the crouching stance.
Of course, never being the one to respond kindly to the invasion of privacy, the Thracian naturally protested in his own way, ''You fuck...! Why-?'' And a heavy hand clamped his mouth, stopping whatever curse, common or tribal he wanted to spout.
''Listen to me before opening that useless mouth again...'' A glare, but at least he stopped squirming, ''We are not alone it seems, now you can be of use and take point ahead or I can leave you here to wander. Agreed?''
Sevius agreed, begrudgingly, complemented by a heavy exasperated eyeroll. ''That 'someone' could easily turn to be a rat.'' He whispered while leading forward and Kastos following with an unsteady steps, the light was yet sparse and a great deal harder to navigate.
But the former murmillo dismissed such notions with zeal. They were fugitives now, quite literally and after ransacking several manors and estates in the last weeks, there can be no doubt that Bellatorians would make effort in turning every stone, shrub or cave. So far they were lucky in avoiding any serious detection, and any potential danger in the houses they went through were minimal, the house slaves mosty docile, reluctantly followed their lead while those who minded heards and fields took the offer of freedom with a surprising amount of approval and glee.
''I'm not willing to risk.'' He responded quietly, while they approached the source of the noise.
There was a dried gully ahead with moderately narrowed slopes, and right upon the edge a person, as noted by Sevius's survey.
''It's only one, now what?''
It didn't quite sit right with the Galian, he needed more input if he were to act. ''Are you certain? Is he armed? Is it even a man?''
There was a moment of pause, and Kastos couldn't get the expression Sevius was making, but the words told him the story, ''Oh my apologies, I forgot to ask for nocturnal vision when I was yet a babe... One man, carries a weapon.'' Was all he could make out.
''Then how do you even know it is a man?''
He knew it couldn't be seen, but Sevius turned behind with a jeer anyway, ''Because, friend, I know to tell when a man uses his cock for other thing apart for trying to fill a hole.''
Scowling at the man's choice of words, Kastos went to reply, but there was nothing to be said. Discussing proper manners with Sevius has always been a moot point, the Thracian would speak his mind even if he had to fill the sentence with all kinds of profanity he kept in store. Now he had to decide what course of action they should take, let him leave or ambush him and strip of his possessions. Leaving him alone was fine, but what if he stumbled across the encampment that was barely a mile along the path, yet the second choice made him look like common bandits and Kastos never wanted to imagine himself like a criminal who outright stole from random hikers...
''Shit!'' Came a soft hiss from Sevius, ''He moves ahead...'' And in a dangerously particular direction, ''He's going to notice the fucking tents!''
Shit! It was the proper choice this time. He just had to choose this exact moment, this exact spot. Things could never be as simple, if Igneous was here he'd know how to act. Because that was Igneous, no matter what, he always pushed forward with whatever obstacle in the way. It was downright terrifying.
But he wasn't Igneous, nor any other. He was Kastos, son of Suadurix, and he had to get a damn grip, ''Gods... I will trail behind him, you are the nimbler one, cut his path.'' Apparently, it was a solid enough plan that Sevius didn't even bother to voice his opinion, and with a nod of his head, he made for a half circle, mindful to make as little sound as possible.
In the end, what mattered the most was the safety of the collective whole. Bearing no grudge against the man, it was simply that they were at the bad time and a bad place. Like many other things in existence.
Besides, there were two of them against one stranger, just a little before daybreak. Kastos liked his chances in a direct confrontation.
If Sevius wasn't in position by now then it would be no surprise if he did all the dirty work. Typical. Kastos made a dash, followed by a war-cry he heard from a crowd of his countrymen. It was meant to boost confidence and dissuade the adversaries with initial shock. A sound strategy, leading to a assured victory.
Kastos hollered the best imitation he could, closing fast, his eyes came upon the back covered with mane of dark yellow.
A second later, his face met thick wood.
Blood trailing down the face and now ruined nose, his back hit earth.
Light seeped through the first crack of dawn, revealing a furious pair of blue eyes.
''Shit...'' There was something to be said about how much should he cuss in one day.
*THUNK*
The rest of the face became more clear, giving way to the man's full visage. And it transformed from the initially battle-ready to confused. ''Ahh...'' Soon melted to a mocking laughter. ''I leave to take piss, yet suddenly the pigs size of gladiators try to jump me.''
If Kastos was ever glad to be struck in an embarrassing manner such as now, it may as well be, ''Ts you...'' His words came with a slight slush.
Ganicus raised one brow in contemplation, ''Hmm, you look like someone I know... But what guarantee I have you won't turn out to be a forest spirit?'' He said, pressing the tip of his sword lightly against the downed man's left pectoral.
A blank, bloodied face stared back. ''Wh't?''
''No offense, fair spirit, but if you wanted to seduce me, you choose a rather poor disguise.'' Ganicus paused in thought, ''How about you try with less around waist, longer hair, legs more slender and arms longer... Oh! And, uh, lose the cock please.''
Kastos stared for two more seconds before his head fell against the dirty leaves. His life was in the hands of a sexually charged Ganicus in the morning, the entire situation was more than he would ever want to savor. He'd need some serious help later. Lots and lots of it.
Obviously, the cold ground would do him no good in the long run, so from the prone position the Galian decided to act logically, ''Sevius! Come out!''
The play was lost on Ganicus though, who inched his other blade under Kastos look-alike throat. ''A cry for help? Good, I always wanted to meet forest nymphs... Hey! If you are listening, I would like one with bright and darker hair, and perhaps one set of slightly heavier chest!''
Nothing came.
''Alright,'' The blonde man assessed, nodding in determination, ''If not by my voice then surely if with you under the threat of death...''
''Are, y'mad?! No, no, no... Shit!''
The sword was raised.
Kastos grunted out a best version of his dying scream, the last of his breath. I love you, Kore...
There was a squelch where sword made contact. A heavy sensation on his stomach and it was over the soon it started.
''Is he really dead?''
''No, but if his screams were any indication... Heh, who would knew Kastos could let out more sounds than grunt.''
There was an off chance they all died and are now talking in a world of spirits, so curiosity drew Kastos to peer one eye open.
Spirit world really is dull, if this is how it looks...
''...''
Oh, and why is Ganicus using him a sitting stump?
''Kastos, still in the mortal realm?'' The dual-wielding Ganicus leaned over and tapped the temporary stool with the flat of his blade. A flash of recognition and it gradually started to morph into a hateful glare, ''He lives! The threatening looks have started to form!''
''. ...l ... you.''
''... What?''
''Get off me, you Hellenian wag!'' Kastos exploded, pushing Ganicus off his person, at least trying to but only managed to land a single haphazard slap. The insults have come.
Said wag, was now grinning along with a chortling fool that was Sevius who stepped out of his temporary hiding spot. ''Pwah!''
Kastos pointed an accusing finger at the former retiarius, ''You knew.'' He growled, bloodstains starting to dry slowly on his mug, ''All this time, the two of you were making a fool out of me!''
Ganicus didn't try to defend from the accusation, which made Sevius give him a questioning glance. He just shrugged, further irritating Kastos.
Sevius huffed, crossing his arms against his chest, ''No. But I had no intention to get involved in your shit-show either.'' Now that he thought back, it made things even more funny, ''Honestly, fucking 'forest nymphs'? How stupid do you have to be to fall for that?''
It was within Kastos's every right to raise a sword against the lesser man and see how many times he'd try to imprecate before all blood leaves him. Then he would carve a nice array of chosen words upon the carcass and piss upon it as an added insult to the departing spirit. That is to say, if he wasn't only armed with a sharpened pointy stick. He had every damn right to claim blood vengeance...
So they stood, three different nations, three different grasps on what is deemed appropriate in the land that wasn't even their own. There was irony to be found in there.
''Who goes there?! If you don't show we wil- Oh?'' The uncharacteristic stand off was broken, with Argos and a smaller band of fighters behind him. ''Is this a bad time?''
It could be ih he didn't look so much amused by the way he said the last part.
Ganicus had no decency to look guilty at his own twisted joke, not that he should since the winning party was within right to take all, ''A minor quarrel, brother. Morning is yet young and our eyes play tricks on us.'' Though some things could be held back for another occasion. One that had a proper audience and maybe drinks.
Argos wanted to ask more, like why was Kastos looking like he rolled in mud like boars or comment the blood on his nose but it fell secondary as Ganicus motioned them to retreat back to the deeper parts of the forest and winked him 'tell you later'. Might as well, at least it wasn't anything seriously life-threatening. Right?
Kastos followed last, picking up his fallen makeshift hunting stick and gingerly touched his swelling face. Ow, the nose will take some fixing apparently. Good thing he had a pair of nurturing hands. It could all be blamed to a hunting accident and the fact that his 'nocturnal vision', as Sevius so nicely put it, wasn't up to the task against a sturdy wood... He should mark the exact tree just for the occasion.
Ganicus said something that made other around him chuckle, but no-one turned to Kastos, so it wasn't about him just yet. Which meant that instead of blood vengeance, he should have plenty of time to exercise on his own design of appropriate prank. Since he wasn't as witty as Ganicus to improvise, it should be something elaborate yet simple that could rattle the nerves of an easygoing but surprisingly shrewd hellion in a man's body.
XxX
The whole town stunk.
That was the first conclusion that Igneous decided was proper term to describe the atmosphere when they entered. Even when nearing the outskirts, his hairs began rising uncomfortably.
And it wasn't only because of the illusion cast upon him to appear as any other ordinary looking Bellatorian. Dark brown was in want. Yeah, like shit from ass.
''Ease that stance, will you? I'm surprised the gate guards didn't question your profession more.'' The guide from his left muttered, knowing he could be heard perfectly.
Were he able, Igneous would have snapped a dangerous retort, but could only settle for a stink eye. Laertes warned him that it might disturb his illusion if he made sudden movement. Which was bullshit, but Igneous didn't dare test the mechanics to prove his point, and not only because they were in a widely populated area.
Laertes himself was sporting new skin of a nondescript man with curly but graying hair. ''On another matter, I would ask you remain respectfully out of the borders of discussion when we hold meeting.''
That did it for Igneous, ''What does that mean?''
Laertes groaned internally, not only did he went against what he told him, but now he had to explain twice, ''It means what you heard. Stay out of conversation and do not speak out of turn. We are not dealing with Bellatorians.''
''Do you have to make it that complicated? You didn't even bother to elucidate, and then you show surprise at his curiosity.'' The third party tossed her own two coins.
The eldest of the trio slowly turned to his cousin, ''Is it now? Quite quick you are to jump to his defense.''
Iona's mouth twisted slightly, ''I am not defending anyone. Merely pointing that this all could have been avoided if you were more honest.''
Great, a cranky Iona would totally make his day, ''Of course not. And if Hector was any less stubborn with his personal problems, we might not have had to bring Igneous here.''
''You know why that is.'' Iona said slowly, eyes downcast, but Laertes would have none of it.
Scoffing under his breath, he went slightly ahead when they reached the far northern section. Pretending to be normal traveler taking an early stroll he stretched his arms and with a lot of practiced effort provoked a yawn. He disappeared around the corner, and Iona signaled for Igneous to wait with her for a bit.
The healer noticed that Igneous gaze flickered from her and back, he was probably piqued of what one of his instructors had to do with this. She couldn't blame him, if Hector was good at anything, it was about how little did he ever reveal about his private affairs. Outside of combat training, Igneous probably knew next to nothing of the man.
''I know that look...'' She started, but he only quirked a brow. ''You may talk, it doesn't affect the spell.'' Did it wear down on it, yes, but they always come off like a layers of a peeling fur. She still didn't notice any significant signs of degradation.
Since he was given an okay, he'd put trust in Iona's knowledge, ''Good to know... Then, why is this place important to make stop?''
Kind of a broad question, she didn't think it held any actual importance, yet at the very least she could shed light on what little she knew. ''This place is... Hmmh, the closest point separating Bellatoria from Hellenian lands.'' Vaguely, she gestured at the cloud covered tops in the distance, ''You remember those?''
The red-head in disguise squinted, tracing her dainty fingers to the source, ''Huh, we are that close already... It seems another lifetime when I descended from those mountains.''
The actual distance was hugely misleading, because by her own estimate, it took another seven to ten days and that is only reaching the foothill. It was a path that could only be carved by the tempestuous winds and earthly forces of immeasurable force. It was a nightmare, it was a repelling sight where many lost their lives and where slopes are still filled with echoes of the dead... It was... home.
''More likely away from home...''
''-ona?''
''Eh?'' She blinked, suddenly feeling like the biggest idiot in this part of the continent. ''Y-Yes, I'm well... Everything is well.'' It was only mildly embarrassing, so much she hoped he'd, like any hot-headed man simply forget about it and move on. Yes, that was most likely the case.
''You are certain?'' Gods apparently wouldn't allow it, ''You seem more... distracted lately.''
Oh no, oh Gods above and below no! She was definitely not ready to open her soul and pour its contents in the middle of a dirty alleyway. Common sense dictated that much, and why did he chose to be considerate now of all times?!
And where the hell is her stupid, conniving cousin? He's probably found himself nice and cozy little spot and is watching her suffer right now, that bastard!
''Iona,'' Words weren't getting through, and he had little choice but physical contact, so he shook her shoulder mindful not to press with too much strength, ''Are you alright?''
Unfortunately, when Laertes applied his fancy shape-shifting trick, he mostly did so on a certain parts, like face and to hide Igneous's slave mark. He didn't care to bother about the sickly looking lines that climbed from the former gladiator's wrists and disappeared under his leather guard.
It was hot. It was warm. It felt like fire spreading and moving to consume all in its path... Fire... Fire... FIRE!... ''THEE WHO HAVE WRONGED THE GODS SHALL BURN IN FIRE!''
The face of the man who wanted it all, but could only cry the agonizing wails as his flesh was being turned to charring mess... A little girl reaching for her father's hand, calling his name... A hand covered her face, but she still tried, in a desperate attempt. Another voice, elderly, unlike father's muttered a quick incantation and the girl only saw dark.
Father had no more voice to give, no eyes to see, no ears to hear... he was a sinner, he was bad... And bad people who wronged the Gods are eventually punished, yet... ''Are we all not cursed?''
''Father-?!'' The landscape reverted to normal. There was no fire, and the temperature was somewhat normal. And an angry face staring down at her. ''Ah? No, I-...''
A face with a shorter straw yellow hair and a stubble that could have been mistaken as her father's grimaced, ''They are ready to see us... Last house on the left. Move.''
Even if he didn't word it, Laertes's words stung each time he spoke, and with a flinch the younger girl strolled the appointed path, her older cousin trailing behind.
Igneous was left partially dumbfounded by a reaction, never would he expect Iona, who could stare at the face of a truly imposing men, of all people to have such reaction. Was it aversion? She was a healer, so it's wise to assume she'd seen blood and treated wounds before. No, this ran deeper than that.
He noticed how Laertes walked stiffly with the purpose to obstruct him from reaching the girl. Frowning in displeasure, Igneous carefully tried to impose his curiosity before they reached the door, ''Tell me at least, am I to blame for that?''
Laertes went a hand through his hair in silent musing, ''... It's what you embody.''
The former gladiator froze briefly, racking his brain. There was only so many things that connected him with whatever incident which spurned Iona's sudden painful remembrance. ''It... Cannot be? You know what this is about, do you? What ties you to their family?''
...
''Answer me, damn you!''
...
''Tch...'' He let out irritably, but no matter how many angry demands he screamed in his head in the last couple of seconds, no answer awaited him. Sighing in frustration, Igneous stored the information aside, it would do him no good to stand on a street in the waking hours and look like a madman having an internal monologue.
The house in question didn't really stand out much than the rest. If only slightly more spacious-looking, windows were tightly shut, the door appeared pretty sturdy as well. All in all, there was nothing that could possibly make a person point out anything odd about the house... So how come did Laertes knew exactly where to look? Has he been here before? Igneous doubted they allowed casual walk up and down back at Crypteia just for the sake of pleasantries. And Laertes wasn't typical errand boy that went delivering notes of grace here and there.
A middle aged man was at the door, his dull azure eyes watched their every step. He motioned the inside with a quick nudge of his chin, but hesitated upon locking gaze with Igneous. Laertes, in his true form, muttered something rapidly which made him blink. He relented and ushered them all through the door.
By then it was clear that this was not an ordinary house. As soon as the entered, multiple pairs of eyes were on them, some carefully aware, others just tried to cover it up by continuing with the morning routine.
The shapeshifter threw an unamused look at their doorman, ''What? No greetings for your esteemed guests? No hugs or cheers?''
Slamming the door rather loudly, the first man scowled at their guests, ''What did you hope to get here? A 'chaire' and a hero's welcome?'' He glowered, ''Don't make me laugh, your royal highness.''
If Laertes was insulted in any way, he didn't show it, although his mouth twitched at the last jibe briefly, ''Here I thought you would be pleased to see familiar faces, Theramenes. Just because you left on your own volition, the oath still obliges you to listen.''
''The oath?!'' Theramenes exploded, making the younger pair at the table jump from the sudden tone. ''That stigma you put us all under so we might follow you like cattle? If you have failed to notice, your authority no longer extends here, your titles and privileges are meaningless!''
''Oh, and it seems to have slipped your minds that I was not the one who made you pledge yourselves. You want to complain to someone; the mountain always awaits.'' The other arguing party visibly shrunk at the mere mention, which pleased Laertes to know that not all of protocol of reverence has been wasted. ''Nonetheless, here we are, and you will listen to what I have to tell.''
Theramenes shifted uncomfortably, and looked at the two who arrived with Laertes. How very characteristic of Crypteia, he thought bitterly. ''Malákas... And should I refuse, are they going to make me obey by force?''
The younger male seemed to give it a thought, ''Hmm, if I had brought Circe or Hannibal here, certainly by now you would be bleeding or a pile of a whimpering boy on the floor.'' When Theramenes went pale, he grinned in satisfaction, the reputation still clinged to those two, ''But since this is a friendly visit and I am a reasonable person, let us drift from any bloodshed now, shall we? I would sincerely hate to spill blood this early... And of a compatriot at that.''
''Curse you, Colchis and your entire ancestry...'' The frightened man said through gritted teeth, ''What is it you want?''
Laertes was no longer looking at him, indicated by how he casually strutted the place until he ceremoniously sat at the wooden table, ignoring the protests of its occupants. ''From you; nothing. Honestly, you never had a will nor courage to stand for yourself. Hmph, I was made aware that the old man is still drawing breath... Kindly so invite him over.''
''The Elder is yet to wake. We never disturb him from his sleep...'' The one sitting near Laertes spoke slowly, a frail-looking thing, inky hair and pouty lips. Nothing like a decent Hellenian woman should be.
Lifting her by chin with a slight application of force, he stared at the nervous chestnut eyes, ''I was not making a request. You bring him from whatever pleasant slumber and tell him that Laertes Colchis and his personal retainers are here... Oh, and you are free to mention that there might be a pack of hungry gladiators just outside the city. Trust me, they are very, very impatient and uncouth men.''
Eyes wide, the girl rushed to her feet, along with a runt that by all accounts hadn't sprouted first facial hair clambered after her. As they disappeared deeper in the back, Laertes slid down on the chair with a sigh.
After a quick assessment, he gave Theramenes, who was too floored gaping at him, a thoughtful glance, ''Truly, is that how you intend to live the rest of your lives? Buying slaves and hoping that Bellatorians eventually stop treating you with enough scorn to walk in broad daylight?''
Theramenes crossed his arms and looked away, ''And you would have us fight in your imaginary wars...''
Resting his chin on his palm he responded, ''They are very much real, have no doubt. Why, this man right here is a living proof of our accomplishments. Come now, no need to shy, Igneous, we are all of alike mind here, yes?'' Raising a brow at the lack of response, he turned to find the man's jaw tightly shut, or rather restraining from commenting. Ahh, then it must be... ''Μάσκες μακριά.''
The image distorted and shifted until it was flaming mop and red eyes that replaced the crafted facial facade. ''We are never doing that again...'' Igneous muttered miffed, pulling a stray lock for examination.
''I'm hurt now, after working tirelessly to create that special face just for your sake... Gratefulness is hard to come by today.'' Iona snorted softly from her position against the far-right wall.
Satisfied that everything is in order, the red-head gave him a dry stare, ''Speaking of tireless work, you specifically asked for me to come. Why is that?'' He could only get answers from one place, and he didn't dare try the other source for the time being, least he risked her fainting on him or worse.
Laertes hardly wanted to go into that tangent, so he should settle for a watered-down version. ''Their esteemed elder, Darrhon, was once a very talented mage in our service. Some years ago, he left to settle here of all places and apparently is gathering a flock of derelict Hellenians ever since. We are here to find the reason behind it... There is a small matter I would discuss with the man in private as well.'' Whatever conclusion Igneous drew from it was of no concern, they were already grasping straws at this point, and getting to speak with a man under whose tutelage even Iona studied once should provide him with useful information if nothing else.
''I already told you, this is not Crypteia's grounds. We offer sanctuary for those deprived of hope... There is nothing of interest to you here...''
''That remains to be seen.'' Laertes said, showing lack of interest in exchanging words with the other man.
Theramenes frowned at the apparent indifference, but the unspoken message still reached him. He turned to the other two and briefly examined them. The similarities of the girl and Laertes wasn't lost on him, but the red-head on the other hand... He was still uncertain of that one, ''I have never seen you before. Where did they acquire your services from?''
''From pits where men meet honourless death.''
Theramene's eyes widened at the bland truth. Pits? He had a disposition of a fighter if judging by his size, and relatively young at that. ''Then you have only been a part of their ranks recently.'' He sighed in a mournful tone, ''You poor soul... It's easier when they start with youth...''
Laertes withheld a laugh, ohh he shouldn't have said that.
Igneous was a bit disgruntled by that, but it piqued him some, ''Why do you think so?''
Theramenes continued, unaware of the boiling pressure he stepped upon, ''Did you receive a promise of freedom? A shared power upon victory? You would think that their cause is a just one... I was the same once, bright-eyed and filled with expectations. But all that awaits in the end is doom... Reflect upon who you serve, it may not be too late.''
Meanwhile, Iona gave her cousin a worried look which he simply shrugged and waved it off.
Igneous stirred all he had been told in one quick succession. The short silence was broken soon after, ''I see... Allow me to ask of you then; when you are trapped in the deepest darkness, with your only hope of living is endless fighting for survival... Do you forfeit your own life, not reaching for even the tiniest ray of light?''
''T-That's not...!'' Theramenes spluttered, caught flat-footed there.
He was cut off from continuing when Igneous's hand rose, igniting into a brilliant flame that dispersed most of the shadows. ''Thus, are you willing to give it your best effort if only to breath surface air again, to feel the warmth of sun upon skin, knowing that your best wasn't good enough? Would you yield your flesh to the dying ones, or suffer the crucible to regain your life again?''
This time, Laertes did laugh, the derisive bursts pointed at the stunned Theramenes. It went out as soon as Igneous cut the flow of fire and steady darkness blanketed the anteroom once more.
''I... I do not have a proper answer...'' Because he couldn't give one. Because giving one might spark further debate on what is deemed appropriate on how to act upon your courage. This man obviously didn't fear death like him, and it would be pointless trying to dissuade him from his path any further.
Igneous said no more on that matter, his sensitive ears picking up noise from deeper parts of the house. It sounded like a hard object repeatedly hitting the stone floor coupled by a slow walking... The noise was quickly followed by words from more than one mouth, but he assumed that the eldest one was what they came for.
''Mah! You young ones are noisy in the morning! I swear, if I was ten years rejuvenated this stick would find more than one use, you hear me!''
From someone that Laertes described as talented or esteemed, this man's outer appearance suggestion nothing of such. He was barely taller than Iona, if slightly hunched, wrinkling skin and missing teeth marked his progressing age, and his stance were that of a common man. So, probably not a fighter like him or Hector, but he was still labeled as a mage.
The old man stroked his beard, scanning the room for it's occupants. ''Guests, you tell... Hmph, they should have know better than coming at this ungodly hour. We could have held a real feast, show them the true hospitality...''
The way he so casually addressed the visible tension in the room prompted Theramenes to react, ''E-Elder, they left us with no choice but to-...''
''He can speak for himself, I believe. Since you finally decided to grace us with your...?'' Laertes rudely intruded, but noticed something immediately off, ''Hey, you...''
''Uwooohh!'' Everyone present grimaced at the exclamation with a various degree, but Darrhon ignored the all in favor to the Crypteian girl, with a speed though impossible for the man his age, he dashed to the other end in a few strides, ''Good Gods, little Iona, is that truly you?!''
Iona blushed a little at being approached so suddenly, ''Yes... It has been some time... Teacher.''
The old man guffawed loudly, giving a big hug and examining his former student, ''Yes, indeed, the years have been most kind to you, young one. Truly, from that bashful child now stands a woman, if my age counting is not mistaken...''
''Hey...''
''Haha, but I confess, it is quite unexpected for you to come unannounced! You were always well-mannered even in the hardest of times! Making me appear as a bad host for failing to prepare an appropriate welcome... For shame!''
''Hey, you old...!''
''But none of that matters!'' He declared with a toothy grin, holding her hands, ''You must be exhausted from that trip, come, come! We shall, how would Bellatorians say, 'break bread and have words'. You must tell me, how is that old crow holding? Still alive and cawing at everyone who fail to keep with her immaculate disposition?''
Laertes stood and banged the table loudly, eye violently twitching, ''Stop ignoring the rest of us in her favor, you old shit!''
Darrhon paused for a moment to regard the interloper, ''My hearing is yet to recede, young one, no need for making unnecessary noise.''
Unnecessary noise? Says the man that was screaming his guts out for one person...
''Uhm, I apologize, yet for the world of me I cannot seem to remember ever meeting you... Who are you again?'' He asked with a tilted head.
''I am Laertes,'' Came a response and a glare to the meek servant girl, ''And I specifically asked to be announced as such when you awake.''
''Laertes?'' Darrhon hummed thoughtfully, and then smiled broadly again, ''Oh, but forgive me, it is always a joy in meeting more interesting people! I welcome you to my humble-''
''Laertes Colchis! Son of Pollux, grandson of the high sorceress Idyia!'' If he were able, the enraged shapeshifter would be spewing streams of fire.
Darrhon was nonplussed for a second, but then he clapped his hands as it came to him, ''Ah! That Laertes! One that would constantly skirt after Myrtilus for more tales on playwrighting?''
The royal family son's nostrils flared, ''It was for research purposes!''
''But of course it was! Heavens, I distinctly recall you constantly experimenting with your little tricks... Yet, is that what your real face looks like?''
''Teacher,'' Iona interrupted the exchange with a soft voice, ''Perhaps we should move this elsewhere? It seems inappropriate to reminisce while we all stand.''
Finger held as in lecturing, the older healer said, ''As expected of Iona! Even in the direst of moments, we must not forget what separates us from behaving like savages... Which we are doing right now! Go now, go, prepare an accommodating room for our guests of honor!'' He shooed the youngsters and had Theramenes handle the preparations alongside them.
Once the main room has been cleared enough to deem for accepting guests, the three Hellenians sat at the table. Darrhon patted the young servant and gave him the rest of short instructions on what should be done now that they are all awake. Theramenes can take care of the rest, always the careful observer.
''With that out of the way,'' Laertes, finally calmed from the previous useless rant, started, ''We should be getting to the crux behind this visit.''
Darrhon sipped his drink lightly, his other hand fiddling with his staff idly. ''One that is sanctioned, I presume?''
''Naturally...'' Laertes held back from seething at such ridiculous question. The old man was surely trying to rile him up more, but he has seen through his method, it won't work twice. ''Imagine our surprise when word reached that a man was making it his business in harboring lost Hellenians. The Assembly was much worried at the sheer proximity of where it was occurring.''
His intent was clear as a day, yet Darrhon would hardly allow himself to be accused of such things, ''If I might be so bold to assume that those intolerant degenerates are frightened of my work here...''
Young Laertes's muscles tensed, but he didn't actually jump to their defense at his plain insult. Hmm, interesting. He does not hold as much respect for them as I thought...
''... You may pass them the message that it is all in vain. In spite of mine and their different opinion with how to handle matters regarding our own homeless people, I have not nor shall I ever stoop so low as to reveal anything that would uncover their status as a... Heh, no point in explaining more, yes?''
''Yet you live among Bellatorians freely here... One could only think that your newly formed bonds with them is what enables you right to inhabit this place. Out of pure curiosity, how is it that you bought such privilege?'' For there were only so many ways he could have made it work. Darrhon was no master of the mind arts, not in that sense.
The man chuckled, light-hearted, ''Indeed, you might tell from this housing and its lack of degradation that it has not seen violence nor their rage. Some people are not much different from each other, more than we so think. The answer is in the currency of the Republic.''
''Currency, Teacher?'' Iona voiced from her side, ''Do you refer on molding your skill and... Using it for trade...?''
''As expected of Iona!'' Mirthful eyes closed, her old teacher stroked his beard confidently, ''You came to the right conclusion once more!'' When noticing that the rest didn't share his enthusiasm, he looked the innocently again, ''Where else did you think I procured coin from?''
''You... You ill-minded old man!'' Laertes bellowed after the initial shock, ''Have you lost any semblance of what is you profession?! You used magic in plain sight to cover for your material needs!''
''Ufufu,'' Darrhon waved his pointer just like he was reprimanding his class, ''You overreach for judgement without any proper facts to support them. I am a mage, yes. But ask yourself this; what is my profession first and foremost? A healer. Bellatorians have been for some reason without contact with magic that I'm astonished they don't consider metal bending as a miracle, yet with right phrasing and a few encouraging pushes I became an Apothecary.''
''Not that you seem to have much restrain among yourselves either.'' He tutted, turning his head toward Igneous, the third party still standing as rigid and vigilant of surroundings as when he first entered. Probably a byproduct from that man's training. How regrettable. ''It was quite warmer than it should be with the end of summer solstice... Tell me, young man, what did Crypteia teach you about displaying your unique skills?''
The older Colchis was visibly unhappy about being excluded, but Igneous could damn well answer on his own, ''It is imperative to keep any traces of magical essence hidden from non-allies... Unless the situation absolutely requires the use.''
The gray-eyed medicine man shook his head slowly, ''A retort expected of Leonidas's soldiers. However, your actions from before seem contradictory... A mage is nothing without his craft, so much that it akin to a festering wound, if left untouched, unused for a prolonged period the longing becomes unbearable. Does it sound familiar?''
''We are not here to talk of his-...''
''Quite the opposite, young prince, under my roof we are all allowed to speak our minds without fear of punishment or repercussion.'' The familiar mirth returned to his eyes, only it held a more vicious edge, ''How do you think all the new spells and inventions came to be? Speak your mind, young man, you may find it invigorating on how things like magic does not always follow the straight path we perceive.''
''I want... All I ever wanted is to live.'' It was about him... It wasn't about him, but Igneous's now unsteady heart beated faster yet.
An embers slowly glowing, the eternal fire that burned no matter how many dared extinguish its glow. For a short amount he revealed, it was a lifetime of woes buried underneath the surface. What have we done?
''Words speak for themselves. And you expect to resolve all matters with such tactics... I am disappointed.''
Colchian prince and princess turned runaways were a different story. Idyia and Pollux have already turned Laertes into the means to whatever suicidal endgame was Crypteia's goal... Iona, though, there was yet much compassion left in her. Yes, even as a child, she would often request private tutoring. Preserve life when she could, never end one. It's a godssend she has lasted this much without following in her own sire's footsteps. Knowing how Castor once was, his fate was inevitable.
Darhhon has never felt so little sympathy for the death of another man.
''Fortunately your voice worths no more than that of an Arena's spectator.''
Peering behind the mug, Darhhon concealed a smirk, ''Mine alone, for certain is less than a single drop in a river. But you are aware that one voice merges into another and resonate with another... Until it becomes a raging tide not even kings could reign.''
Snorting, Laertes took his own drink, but paused before it reached his lips, ''A 'tide', you claim... Do I dare presume your household is the beginning of one such phenomena?''
''Why, Prince Colchis, whatever made your mind deduct such a thing? I harbor no ill will, or have malicious affairs against you or my former associates.'' For now, if left unprovoked maybe.
For now. Finishing his drink in one steady gulp, the pessimist in him just yearning to reach across and wring that decrepit neck. No matter how many times he'd known Darhhon insisted his practice is for the greater good only, there is a fact that he did well in concealing. A knowledge known not by many, rather unspotted or ignored by commoner's opinion, but he knew it all too well; every cure can also be poison.
Laertes excused himself to the latrine, which was separate from the house, and went with more haste, pulling a vial from his supply once outside surrounded by a smaller wooden walls.
With the moody prince out of sight, Darhhon literally slumped against the backseat. ''Honestly, that one, his mere presence makes even the air foul-tasting.''
''Teacher,'' Iona reprimanded, voice firmer but no actual angry zeal behind, ''I admit that Laertes can be difficult sometimes... But he does have best intentions in mind. Just, with how much work he does, the builded tension is hard to bear even for him.''
''Hmm, quite the valid explanation,'' He linked his hands, carefully regarding the girl, ''With a touch of your own care for the closest kin... By the Gods child, if half the nations had a pinch of your kindness, we could have all been sitting at tables as such... Instead of spurring conflict.''
''I th-...''
''Bah! It would only had been wasted then! If it were by kings or politicians, they would be having stomach cramps at the bare thought of how much it caused them to shit!'' When Iona opened her mouth, she didn't expect this kind of boast.
''... Please do not ever jest like that, Teacher.'' She said, rubbing her temple in mild frustration. He barely changed when his sense of humor was concerned.
''I will have you know it is a proven fact, my former student! Why else would shit come out of their mouth every time they open it?'' It made the girl groan more and try to disappear inside her robes. He was sure he even heard not-so-discreet attempt of Igneous trying to cover up his own reaction. ''Do you not think so – Oh, forgive my manners, I have not even bothered to know your name...''
''Igneous.'' He didn't see anything wrong in giving away that much.
Darhhon saw everything wrong with that name. Fake. Forged by trials. Dangerous force lurking behind the fiery gaze. Unrelenting anger searing past normal boundaries of humanity. Dear Gods, he is one of those...
''Now I think you stood by your lonesome enough. Come, join us, Igneous.'' Seeing the reluctance, he gave his most gentle smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, ''I must insist. This is my home, yet you remaining like that is simply my mistake. It would be rude of me not to offer, and even more rude of you to refuse.''
Not that it made much sense to Igneous, the old man had every right to leave him standing and it would be fine either way. He was behaving somewhat pushy as well, but here Igneous thought that pros outweighed the cons. He took a seat, the one not closest to Iona though. ''Gratitude...''
''This might be a personal inquiry, but if you don't mind me asking, what was your family's trade before the war? Never have I seen a trait such as yours and believe me that I have treated hundreds of ailing...''
Igneous knew that answering wouldn't, most likely, be to what the old healer expects, ''I have no memories of my parents...'' The red-head said, pushing his cloak behind, he noticed how the aged eyes trailed to his carved mark, ''There was once a figure that stood as my father.''
Prying for more would be like bothering an irate sleeping beast, yet one of the vices of elder mages were their sometimes unreasonable thirst for knowledge. It manifested itself fully, ''What has become of him?''
Even Iona peaked silently, expecting some sort of closure.
''I do not know... At one point in the past, I had hoped, even prayed for him to find me.'' His knuckles turned white from how he has clenched them, ''Then I realized, after all that, he would not heed my words. I could shed tears all night and he would not appear... No, I will seek for him one day. Then and only then will I rid myself of that burden.''
''Burden?'' Iona repeated, confused.
Staring at the hollow between his legs, Igneous smiled grimly, ''Yes... Everything I have ever wanted, I will have him answer for it.''
''And if you are wrong?'' He clarified seeing as how Igneous wasn't in the state of mind to pick every little meaning, ''You are duty-bound to Crypteia, are you not? Who is to tell you might live to meet that fateful day?''
Iona released the small gasp, but the two men stared at one another. Igneous spoke in determination first, ''I do not plan on dying.''
''Yes, your bravery is commendable, but-''
''I do not plan on dying.'' He echoed the previous statement harshly, ''If I have to, I will slay whatever man, beast, or monster to cross my path. One thing that I deserve in this life, is to have final words with him. That much I promise.''
The finality of the tone was frightening. But Dahrron understood that there is no changing this man's mind. If only ever lived a few chosen with that adamant look on themselves... Curse them, every last one of those selfish bastards. ''I understand then... May you find what you desire at the end of your journey.''
It is when Laertes choose to show from the backdoor, his face crinkled in revulsion, ''Blegh... When was the last you cleaned the shit-pots?''
''Every day by mid morning.'' Darhhon said easily, ''I told you, you should have announced yourselves at least a day before. I am not a seer, unfortunately... Then again, knowing what tomorrow brings would be incredibly boring! Hohoh! Why, I think seers have such dull time seeing everything twice!''
Laertes wanted to comment that he has seen an actual seer and they are nothing what he described, but rolled his eyes and faced Igneous next. Why was he sitting on his spot...? Ohh, that clever old... Unbelievable. ''I need something done, Iona.'' He procured a package, a round shape wrapped in a woolen cloth. ''Have this sent to the top.''
She took the clump gingerly, something light, ''I need to make preparations first...'' Sandy braid whirled as she looked at her old teacher, ''Then, may we use your-''
''No.'' Laertes cut her off hastily, ''Return to camp, do it from there.''
His tone left no room for argument, biting her lip she went out with displeasure in her step evident.
''You go with her, keep her safe...''
Igneous was incredulous at the request, was it even a good idea? After what happened he voiced his uncertainty, ''From what?''
''Anything... Everything... Fuck if I know, just do it, will you...''
A dreadful silence descended, and only Darhhon's elderly voice cut through the veil of pungent tension, ''Was that really necessary?'' He asked, eyes moving along the duo's retreating back, ''We have only started to reflect upon the old days... Goodness, young prince, your timing is awful, just like your grandmother's. Ahh well, I think I should start with my own duties-''
The knife pressing at his back, right behind his left shoulder blade, added to the dully uneventful to increasingly hostile atmosphere.
''...''
''No... No, what you will do, is answer my real questions, starting with; what in Gods' names are you playing at here?''
''... Playing? Why, is that not your own specialty? How many times did you look upon your own reflection and wondered if that is truly your face?''
Laertes showed him none too gently, predictably the man fell to his knees and the blade was shifted to his throat, ''Supposedly, it takes one to recognize one, is it? Liar... Protective charms upon entry, your kitchen has a separate room, shielded for those ignorant enough. Workshop? What has our old Apothecary been up to since his desertion?''
Weary shoulders slumped, ''This place... This is where we once passed during a Great Exodus. You were but a babe then, so you couldn't have known...''
Laertes's hand gripped the handle more, thin drop slid down the gray steel, ''Start making sense old man, or I will force it out of you.''
Darhhon closed his eyes, sighing in regret, ''War is a terrible place to live... It is when a man's true colors are revealed. The things we had to do just to ensure our safety... Murder, pillage, leaving our own and countless others to ill-deserved fate. Do you know what goes through one's head, a healer's, upon witnessing such abasement and mocking of life? The Crypteia was a pillar of new hope, for a time being I thought that perhaps not all is lost. We could start again and try to continue and improve on our past transgressions...''
Sweat started to form on his brow, Laertes absolutely hated this man for that... Quiet. Quiet. Shut that fucking mouth about the past!
What were they supposed to do? Is it right what they did back then? He was a small child, one among the very fortunate to survive through the weather's fangs and all the perils on the long road. What would he have done... It was unfair.
A wrinkled hand reached his own, when has he dropped the guard like that!?
''Your silence tells me what I want to know... Have you seen what they have done? Daggers under the cloaks, misthios without a land that do others' dirty work, your own uncle... It never ends, the cycle of pointless sacrifice.''
That's right, he remembers that day as it were yesterday, the smell of ash and burning cinders of a flesh slowly crumbling. Castor was just a dead man walking. Though he refuses to reflect upon was it right or wrong then... If they wanted to regain everything, they had to give their everything in return.
''There is no choice. Such is the only path.''
Precious seconds dropped, ''Yes... All the accursed in one place.''
The strength of a person and a mage is not so lightly measured. Physical strength an prowess are not predominantly inherited. One would train their body for hours, polished whatever magical knowledge until it all became a steady blend of one's self.
So how does a healer, a non-fighter do it?
Is what Laertes's muddy mind wondered, when he coughed up blood, leaning against a bunch of broken splinters. Dazed, head-swirling, and a broken rib or two... Just perfect...
Darhhon, after showing a surprising amount of dexterity for someone his age, rolled his shoulders, releasing a myriad of popping sounds, ''Goodness, I might have overused the dosage... You see, young prince, it is for that exact reason which we failed to bring any good. When evil joins forces with lesser evil, then what would you expect to come out of it?''
His throat burned, his chest pained, but he still manage out, ''... And your method is any different...'' A series of coughs followed after, ''... Shit. What do you think all your efforts will amount to?''
Picking up his staff, Darhhon knocked the ground once a muttered a chant. The effects were not immediate however, ''Hmm, so you were suspicious from the very beginning... Truly, that is not meant for killing yet – Ah, it matters not. My effort then, it could bring absolute chaos or it... Oh, he lost consciousness.''
And he needed some help in hauling him away. The youngsters would never question his words, after all, they had seen too much for such a short amount of being on this world. Another regrettable act, to suffer for the actions of your predecessors.
''The preparations are not entirely complete.'' The healer contemplated, then looked at the unmoving Laertes. Noble blood, is a gift from Gods, yes. The final solution would perhaps require a strong enough catalyst. ''It is decided... After today all shall be brought to light.''
Whenever a great strife is born, the counter-force is in place. The dead were never put to their proper rest. To those fallen will have another chance to repent.
And the last bastion of humanity, like countless tales of legends rested upon arrival of great hero.
What would be the odds of that?
XxX
There was something wrong.
The winds have suddenly changed their course.
Not many would find that strange. It was nearing that time of the year when great blows were increasingly common. Beating against the mountain slopes or the mortar's skin or sweeping the ground of dust and plucking the number of deciduous trees.
''No... This is no normal occurrence.The wind is unusually mercurial.''
''Hmm? Those are quite big words you are using...''
''Fool! You were once of regal house! Learn to interpret my intent!''
Hector winced slightly at the clamor in his head, ''Alright, alright... The wind has gone insane, we are near the range of mountains, and you are unreasonably mouthy today.''
''You... Remind me again how are you alive with that kind of attitude?''
''Hey now, you made it sound like the end of days approaches,'' Hector retorted defensively, ''How did you imagine I would react? Shrilling screams and running like a headless pup?''
''That makes absolutely no sense! You humans, given a gift of speech and all you do is squander it...! Why, I should consider it even a greater insult that such words have traveled the air... How embarrassing.''
''It's quiet.''
A beat.
''It is...''
''Where have all the birds gone? This morning, the forest brimmed with songs.''
''... That is true. Animals are always living in closer embrace with nature. Of course they would notice it... Something is very wrong.''
''Could it be that he was the one who... Then again, it would clash against all of his ethical views.'' The former royal said, scratching his stub.
''I found myself appalled at what some of you consider to be 'ethical'. Yet, how far would one man go until he loses sight of what made him a person... You are all different like that.''
Different, that was putting it lightly. ''Is it not the same with wind? Ever-changing, untamed and free wherever it passes?''
''If another has asked such question, the punishment would be the never-ending gale that tears the flesh to every corner of the world. However, I shall grant this rare chance, winds may be violent and in the blink of an eye shifting to well-behaved... To be the master of the element entails you not to force his obedience, you must learn to breathe alongside one another.''
''Words of wisdom,'' Hector laughed in a non-derisive way, but honest, ''Well-received.''
''Humph.''
''Well well-received?''
''Ugh...Just go...''
''But of course! I finally have an opportunity to look Laertes in that self-satisfied face and yell, 'Did I not told you so!'.'' And he won't let it go for a while, if the asshole was battered and bruised all the better.
A pop was heard and Hector slowly looked down to see a... a hand? reaching for his his ankle. ''Huh. This is... new.''
More bursting carried through the air as the entire ground he walked started to shift, taking the molehill infestation to a new level.
''Ghhhrrraagghhh...''
Eyes wider than ever, Hector stared dumbly at the lack of a face on the atrocity, ''Does that count as headless? I mean, it has part of a face... How does it even make noise?''
''I hate you...''
BOOM! Rome: Total War Zombie Mode; On!
...Wait... Wrong franchise, I didn't make a deal for that. Hmm, Crock made it work before he croaked. Well, so can I then. Now where did I put that spiked bat anyway.
Don't mind the ranting please, read, review, enjoy, kill time and the entire package.
PM for more detailed questions, or whatever the way you are inclined at the end.
Axel's gotta run now, see y'all folks in the next chapter. ;)