A/N: Demon Slayer, with surprisingly few demons.
NetherOrbit: To be fair, if it wasn't for Asterius' experience with strategy, Garr would've lost. :o
Enjoy!
There're legends of sea-serpents out there, none of them gracious or benevolent. Nobody knows what brought them, as sailors only claim to have spotted such beings past the second era. However, it is largely assumed to be tales shared by drunks, but is most feared by higher officials of Cel's Church.
-Rickety Myths, written in the Third Era, Third Quarter
December 27th, 2022
Whole crowds turned gazes as I passed, their shadows casting over like castle keeps. Shoulder blades pedaled, a [Drifter's] backbones guarding my chest, a retinue of three Red Hooves guarding my flanks. Sun blasted harshly, resulting in sporadic panting from my men.
"Altai," one grumbled, "something bothers Cigius regarding current practices. May I speak for him?"
"All ears," I kept walking, "but keep moving, stopping's a bad idea."
"It's an issue regarding tribe identity, sire. See, others have been selling cow milk to your kind for money."
"Do they call the buyers tribesmen?" I eyed alleyways, finding no one lurking.
"No, but we're concerned for what image this gives our children. The consumption of milk is a rite of passage, not something to give away. We tell our young they must earn it, then on the same breath give it away to yours for money."
Could see where the Red Hoof was coming from, but also from the other tribes...and people here. PoH had long told me how popular [Trembling Cake] was in here, maybe more than [Trembling Cow Milk]. Shit, if I prohibited its sale for their tradition's sake, I would be denying my people a powerful resource. Plus, it was against my very beliefs of free enterprise, they had a right to buy stuff. But if I kept it this way, I would leave the Tauran feeling unheard.
"I understand," I nodded, "but I'll need time to come up with a proper answer. Know that I'll consider it as deep as I can."
"I'll be sure Cigius knows, Altai. Thank you."
Who in their right mind wanted to be king? It was a question creeping on me from day one, lingering like a starved parasite. Every decision I made affected everyone beneath me, good or bad. All responsibility fell on me, regardless of who below me screwed up. Was I caring enough? All of it held a grain of uncertainty in long, flimsy fingers. This New Years though, I had a gift to give. It wasn't a republic yet, but I was certain it'd benefit them.
Knocking on a fairly large house's door, a chill gripped my arms, could barely smile while waiting. If Haru's claim was true, I'd be meeting a man planning on killing me. Ideas leaked from every crevice and fissure of my brain, fantasies of dragging him out, doing what I deemed right. Hearing thumping grow louder, however, I forced a gentle face, leveling my chin as a door knob turned.
Was a surprisingly handsome dude, sharp eyes on him too.
"Good morning," I bowed my head for a second, "Bale, yes?"
His expression softened, reclusive upon identifying me.
"Are you here to arrest me?" Bale said.
"No, no," I lowered my shoulders, "was just looking to ask you a few questions. May I come in?"
Hesitation helped only one thing, my belief he was considering Haru's claim.
"No," he shook his head, "I'm sorry, but I'm going to be very busy today."
"Okay," I nodded, "rules are rules, I'm bound by them too. We wouldn't want to start breaking them, would we?"
"Nope," Bale nodded faintly.
"Good, cause if men were angels...we wouldn't need them."
"Sure, yep."
My father told me many times, never turn my back on an enemy combatant, but this wasn't so simple. Every ounce of me screamed to order my Tauran forward, to kick down his door, arrest him for questioning. It scared me, that's how dictatorships worked.
"Actually," I heard Bale call, "could you help me?"
Perked by his question, I turned back, stepping in front of his doorway again as he hunched forward.
"I tell you, I'm trapped in here."
"How?" I gestured forearms.
"One of my roommates, they've been conducting witchcraft in my house."
"Really?" I blinked, "that's...new."
"Yes they are, conducting rituals, speaking to the dead, worshiping demons, please help me. I don't want my place haunted."
This guy had to be making stuff up, arresting Haru for witchcraft? Was I living in the eighteenth century? Heh, never figured her for a fad rider, claiming to be a witch for cool points.
"Could you get him out here?" I leaned on a step, "I can ask them questions."
Not like I was a lie sniffer, all I had going was prior knowledge of Haru. Bale brought her out as requested, her annoyed facial expression unchanged since we last met.
"Her?" I pointed, "alright." Smiling softly to Haru, "could you come with me for a minute? Got a few questions to ask."
The look Haru gave Bale was awful, could only imagine what their history was like. While she agreed to come with, I made damn sure to turn many corners before speaking.
"Witchcraft, really?"
"He's not wrong, though it's hyperbolic."
"Thought he was pulling stuff," I looked up at her, "any details?"
"Besides your plant turning my hands into blue glow-sticks? I've been able to cast spells, wards, trying to learn how runes work."
"Interesting...though none of the dead or demon stuff, right?"
"I'm not that stupid."
"Then I guess our discussion's already over," I shrugged, "while I'd like to hear more from you, I can't be seen acting friendly. Got an act to perform, if you know what I mean."
"That's okay," Haru crossed arms before brushing hair, "I know a friend I can stay with...I think."
"Go find them, I'll make sure you arrive there."
"Thanks," she nodded, "we're even, right?"
"I hate using the term 'even'," I smiled, "love winning way too much."
Sun Dancer
A windless, rocky maw opened before Leopon, a land without sun or moon to guide her. Held up by slabs of Earth and stone, dust exhaled softly, easing away as a red figure emerged, a torch gripped in his left.
"Hey Dad," Leopon looked up, her tone low.
Heathcliff motioned her to follow, passing another torch as they wandered below Nohr's surface. A bumpy descent led her many feet from sunlight, surrounding the blonde with asymmetrical walls of limestone. Hearing squeaks, Leopon stared off to her right, finding three foot wide holes along walls, and red eyes gleaming within their pockets.
"Don't mind them," he said, "they've been ordered to assist me. Have you made your move?"
"Yes," her eyes drooped.
"I know that tone, Lyra. What happened?"
"It didn't work, he's too set on Lis."
"I know," he said.
Leopon stared at her father, her brow slightly furrowed.
"I must say, I'm surprised he said no to you. Most men would jump on any opening they get. Better him than Taiyama."
"Dad, why did you ask me that?"
"Of whether you won or not?"
"Could we not talk about it that way?"
He glanced to her, a droplet of water soaking into his white cape.
"This was never going to be a win, Dad. Not for me."
"How so? You would be queen of this place, he'd give you anything your heart desired...especially knowing his moral failure. I guess I can truly trust him then, can't I?"
"That's not why," Leopon shook her head, "I like Garr sure, but that doesn't mean turning on Lis was okay. I can't even look at her, Dad. It's killing me."
"It was a bit harsh, but it's par for the course, my dear."
Leopon's eyes moistened, but bowed her head.
"Corporations in Japan run very much like the shogun, connections are imperative. Not to be callous, but your friend won't understand fully what it means to stay afloat in such turbulent times. In all honesty, I'm not sure how my company could survive this."
"Are you expecting law suits?"
"With what we've discovered? No Lyra, bankruptcy's only the beginning. The reality of cyber terrorism is gonna be opened for all the world to see. When you can snag hundreds of thousands with a simple change of values, virtual reality is dead."
Leopon said nothing, her face remaining stoic by force of bite and a reined tongue.
"Your mother was always one for compassion, she's better than me that way."
"I'm sorry, Dad." Leopon bowed her head, "I'm having trouble coping with what...I did."
"I'm glad."
Her gaze honed on Heathcliff, a brow lowered.
"Why?"
"Because it means you're still human."
"Doesn't feel like it," Leopon grimaced.
"You'd be surprised how much you forget about yourself," Heathcliff stroked a nearby ore vein, "pursuing that one thing you think you want, forfeiting what you value as an exchange. It takes time, but one morning...you'll see someone else in that mirror. I hope it never happens to you, I'm sorry Lyra."
"So what do we do?" Leopon wiped her eyes.
"On a positive note, security has been insured for us. I made sure of it."
After minutes of winding, turning, as well as crawling, an opening brought both members to their feet. A door stood before them, roughly two feet thick of solid bronze.
"Wow," Leopon craned her head back after a casual knock, "how heavy is this?"
"Illfang described it as capable of withstanding a full length [Battering Ram]. While I would find it hard to believe that someone could bring such a machine here, I won't doubt people."
Unlocking it, Leopon's eyes flickered to not one, but six bolts drawing.
"Garr spoke with Illfang," Heathcliff struggled to open it, "that in exchange for days in business with him, the Kobolds would build a compound for me. So that I may find a way out for us."
Surveying their entry room, Leopon spotted holes lining the center of each wall panel. Showing her a specific path to follow in steps, Heathcliff cautioned her to not misstep.
"Each of those holes provides a vent for steam vents, very dangerous. Whether you're armored or not. There's a second one for the emergency entrance, the pattern is the reverse of this. Amazing, who would've imagined Nohr being a vast steam bed."
Every hall leading in had specially designed traps, from pitfalls, pressure driven [Spears], spinning [Executioner Swords], to cauldrons of scalding sand. Redundant numbers of these stacked, set to divert pressure if any one should fail.
"This could hold back a raid group," Leopon blinked.
"it should, Garr had a Floor Boss design it. Who would've thought Illfang would be so intuitive at interior design. All paid without taxes, Garr paid for it."
"Speaking of him," Leopon perked, "my friend Asuna's talking about dethroning him."
"Everyone talks about doing things," Heathcliff shrugged, "her words don't concern me, Lyra. Why does it for you?"
"She's getting Taiyama to do it."
"Hm," Heathcliff paused briefly, "in that case, someone's making a poor investment. I was twenty once, and I've made plenty of bad decisions. He's a thief, you and I both know this. And thieves never last in open light."
"He's got a plan though, Dad."
"And I'm sure Garr's prepared. He's rational enough to speak to on an adult basis, but fiery enough to keep would-be enemies of our escape occupied. Have you been keeping an eye on Lisbeth, if I may ask?"
"Barely," Leopon crossed arms, "I want to do something for her, cause I still feel so bad."
"Have you ever heard of a Shadow King?"
Leopon shook her head.
"It's a figure who leads from the background, commanding the 'on stage' king to do his bidding."
"Are you suggesting that Lis is like this?"
"With her status being as is?"
"I don't know, I'll need evidence."
"Simple. Haven't you ever wondered what happened to those [Record Crystals]?"
"I have," Leopon rubbed her eyes, "but I just assumed all the buyers went low-key."
"I designed this game, I know the rules. Something that suggestive would still be spreading, but isn't. Isn't it strange how Garr's men sought to purchase any and all copies available? Rather than one?"
"Maybe? How do you know this?"
"I'm Garr's boss, nothing gets done without my knowledge of it. I get financial records, ideas, and I reply when I feel it necessary."
"But that makes you the shadow king."
"Unfortunately, I'm not the only one tugging strings. It's left...a few aberrant moves. He does a few things outside of my reach, implying other sources. Who could hold weight other than me?"
"Lis?"
"It wasn't hard to imagine, people are creatures of pattern. Garr always leaves the palace at eleven at night, thirty minutes before Lisbeth leaves her shop."
"So they do meet in secret, wait why's Asuna against it then? That's exactly what she likes."
"Not all ideas work the same in real life as they do in our minds. I would rather we keep this to ourselves, they're hiding for a reason."
"Not to go off-topic again, but I've noticed something else too. I'm not falling asleep, not at random."
"Hm," Heathcliff scratched his head, "I suppose remaining comatose for extended periods of time may have effects on all of our circadian rhythms. I suppose you intend to go places with this?"
"I..." Leopon froze, "ugh, hiding stuff from you is impossible."
"When I have raised you since birth it is easy to tell," Heathcliff sighed, "while I would recommend you stay with me down here, a new prospect comes to mind. Do you want to go adventuring?"
Leopon's gaze sharpened, her soul gripped by this question. Staring into his daughter's eyes, Heathcliff's armored fingers coiled slightly.
"I'm sorry?" Leopon blinked.
"Do you want to go out there? To travel around the world?"
A shiver ran through her, heart beating faster.
"Wait, why're you saying this?"
"As secure as we are here, we should learn about the world around us. If anything happens to you, I have a whole kingdom to send out. I would prefer, however, that you keep within the same continent as us, for now."
"I wasn't planning to go too heavy though," Leopon said, "but...that does sound really good."
"Give it time...but take this."
With a flick of a finger, Heathcliff removed his set of [Full-Plate] armor. Trading it with Leopon, her eyes bulged as stats stacked.
"Ask Garr to have this armor refitted for you."
"Wouldn't that give it away?"
"I'm not worried about him. Nobody will steal this if he is watching it, that is the point."
"Now I see," Leopon smiled, "thanks Dad."
"Consider it an apology for your previous request, Lisbeth was an oversight and will require damage control."
"I messed up, Dad. I'll make things right again."
Sun Dancer
PoH breathed deeply, swaying his arms gently, dancing slowly on the edges of his bare feet. Holding a bloodstained, torn blue cloth between fingers, a knife was swiftly drawn. Answering to names incapable to be said with human tongues, a half circle cut was delivered, red drops delivering a key to his wish, splashing against chalked symbols below him.
"Grant me vision of all who wear this cloth," PoH whispered, "great Docym, He Who Weaves a Thousand Dreams, and Dreams a Thousand Worlds...grant me sight."
His circular rune of chalk turned an acidic yellow, vanishing moments later. Whispers riddled his ears with words unintelligible, their vowels and tones lacking any terrestrial origin. As energy surged within him, PoH laid on his bed.
[Prey Located]
[+4 Corruption]
Closing his eyes, PoH crossed legs as he rested, leaving his body for an overarching view. Retaining a bird's eye view of Urbus, several signatures glowed from within the city's perimeter. Many lurked below street level, their purple silhouettes sharp against a black palette. Inside buildings, however, were a few scattered members, as well as a squad of fast moving personnel.
Different behavior patterns, individualistic movements, you're not them.
Dragging himself back to his own body, PoH coupled with reality, rising before leaving the room. With targets highlighted in his vision, his walk was controlled, but excited as he strolled through Altai's amphitheater.
"There you are," Renee paced him, "Oran's wondering about your progress."
"Bait's taken," PoH said quickly, "the ALF will handle it."
"Does Kibaou know?"
"He should, considering what happened to those detectives yesterday. Something's wrong though."
"What is?"
"These creeps are too brazen, I question current town security."
"Wudramor's got that under control."
"Does he?" PoH laughed hoarsely, "didn't Garr say he had a son?"
Renee stopped.
"Wait..."
"Yeah, where'd the son go? I was there for that journey through the third floor, they both stayed up there...except Wudramor. He showed up after what, two days?"
"That's weird," Renee blinked, "too weird."
"I think I wanna ask him a few questions, tell Oran to send men on my call."
"Telling him now."
Leaving Garr's palace, PoH winced as his fingers tapped a sliced palm, a spare bottle of [Holy Water] sealing it as he sipped.
Wudramor's acted suspicious for too long. Every time I meet Ceph town guards, there's fewer yellow eyes. In fact...those eyes looked just like the ones found in that depressing place.
Passing through Urbus' tunnel gate, PoH was sure to wear plain clothes. Subtlety his choice of approach, he walked steadily, matching the pace of residents to his right and left. Ritual granted observation drew closer, his targets discussing and pointing at an unknown object. Highlighted through buildings, he casually advanced, stopping once every few minutes to observe.
They're organizing, one's anxious about something, they're definitely not his guys. One issue with these moles Acherres sent, they never show emotion, their sways and motions are almost identical to one another. I knew I was working with necromancers, but not even zombies have this sort of similarity.
Closing in on their building of choice, PoH slighted his steps, his long held artifact boosting his hearing on unspoken command. Despite unnatural assistance, however, an entirely foreign language halted the minister's decryption. His eyes brightened, leaning closer.
Whatever they're saying, it sounds like some kind of mix between Catalan and French. Sadly my tool can't translate, so I better check a few matters.
PoH drew his [Malishard], pumping HP into its matrix in exchange for [Aethereal Nodes]. Drawing five with a single exchange, PoH harnessed all for a single cast, a [Stalwart Ward - Physical] forming around him. Guarded by a vibrant, glowing cylinder, he approached their nearest door.
Opening with a loud creak, PoH's targets turned without making a sound, weapons drawn with the grace of a stork raising a single leg, devices unrecognized pointed his direction. Strings cracked rapidly, small bolts flying at velocities and quantities previously unimaginable, ending with a loud ping every five taps, crossbow bolts bouncing off PoH's ward. Unfortunately for the ward's caster, its energy percentage drained as quick as water down a sinkhole, PoH's eyes bulging at its rapid decline.
"Oh sweet Jesus!" he leaped back, taking cover behind a wall.
A few bolts continued flying past him, thumping against another building's stone walls. Spotting dents where they struck, PoH's lips sank.
Okay, this was a bad idea! Who the hell are these guys?!
"Figh, figh, figh," they stopped firing, rushing out and surrounding a crouching PoH.
PoH raised hands, shaking harshly. His opponents wore dark green, camouflaging attire. Leather harnesses held on narrow wooden boxes , a gray collar indicating [Chain-mail] beneath.
"Shooting me's the last thing you wanna do!" PoH hissed, only to be grabbed and dragged inside, the door slammed shut.
His ward flickered off, dissipating from what it absorbed. Looking up at all of them, PoH's eyes made out weapons of unusual format. Multiple strings mounted atop a crossbow of metal, attached in a wide matrix, its largest tension wire crowned with a handle. On top of it all rested a rectangular box, a few members pushing crossbow bolts down its port before closing.
This some kind of automatic crossbow? Won't lie, it looks sick.
One of these deadly tools was pushed to his forehead, its owner barking something at PoH.
"I don't understand," PoH winced.
His captors eyed each other, two out of the eight laughing before they slung weapons. He who pointed his weapon, however, kept a cold gaze on PoH.
"How about now?" he said, "think your little magic spell's gonna stop Atlean steel? Not even the in-brets are that deluded."
"I stand corrected," PoH nodded, "so what happens now."
"We kill you."
"That'd be a bad idea," PoH breathed, "I'm very important around here, they'd come down on you with both feet if they hear how the Minister was killed."
"You're bluffing. Bedet bluffs a lot."
"I'm Altai's minister. Kill me and he'll find you."
"Proof?"
With only clothing of expensive design to show for it, laughter was PoH's reply.
"You come barging in our hideout with a magic shield, what were you thinking?"
"To talk," PoH lowered his head, "I drew no weapons, you were wearing blue cloaks, but you're not with them."
"You're referring to Cygothans, What do you know?"
"They're causing trouble in my city, have been for half a month now. I need them gone, you seem capable."
"And you think you can what, hire us off like workers?"
Metal pressed harder, PoH retracting his head further.
"More like make a deal, something to benefit us both. You know, share the wealth?"
"Ah, are you Coalitist? Good, we talk."
One of the leader's subordinates whispered in their native language, receiving a nod moments later.
"You're Minister, there is something you can do."
"Name it," PoH directed his gaze, "I have the flexibility."
"Our operations have been delayed as of large, your guards are rooted."
"How can I tell?" PoH watched.
"The eyes," he pointed, "they'll mimic the color of their master, allowing them surveillance."
"What's their color?"
"Light blue, like frozen water."
"Oh no," PoH faked concern, "the captain...I know who you mean now. Quick, are Tauran vulnerable to this?"
"Their kind are well known for their resistance to Cygothan magic, no concern."
"That's good news," PoH nodded, "my king, he leads these Tauran."
"What can you do about the guards?"
"I can get rid of them," PoH waved hands, "all of them...but only if you do one thing."
"Say."
"I've got this group I want hit once or twice. It's gotta be open, in those blue robes you have."
"Why?"
"Got plans of my own regarding the throne, king's undesirable for what I have in mind. Those guys in dark metal armor, I want their cages rattled after I help you today."
"That's quick."
"Again, me and my guys have gotten a bit paranoid. We'll have this settled today. Can you do this? I will forget you existed here."
"For everyone you know's sake, you better. Who's the target?"
"Humans marching in formation, dark armor. They're called the ALF."
Sun Dancer
Zumfut Barrows -1400 hours
Lux's eyes shook softly, her breath quieted. A draft had blown through, torch flames whipping through a dusty hallow. Between her chewed nails rested a pin, its surface worn. Stuck in a barely used room's corner, only arrays of [Runes of Greater Observation] and a rocking Nautilus accompanied her.
"So what're we having for dinner?" Nautilus laughed weakly, "I know it's winter, but turkey right now sounds amazing."
"Bone broth," Lux said dryly.
"How about drinks?" he adjusted, "a good wine, tequila?"
"Could you take something seriously for once?" Lux whispered, "we are going to be turned to zombies!"
"It's called making light of the situation, you should try it. If it ain't broke..."
"It needs fixing."
Nautilus glanced, their code phrase dimming his eyes as they inspected Lux's lock, its keyhole gleaming from recent friction.
"I don't know how many times I can try. It won't do anything."
Looking Nautilus back, her encrypted message reached perked ears.
"I suppose you're right," he laid back against thick bronze bars, "I can't imagine what's going through Yuna's head right now. Could barely stand me going camping with my buds at work, not without calling me twice a day."
"How can you be annoyed at that?" Lux fiddled, "it means she cares about you."
"Never said I was, was just providing a reference. It kills me really," his nose dipped, "I got us in this mess, but I can't get us out."
"I chose this too," she crossed arms, "don't think it was just you. Besides...it's not like I have anyone waiting for me."
Nautilus' expression darkened.
"Nobody?"
She shook her head.
"Why not?"
"I'd rather not talk about it."
Nautilus' head stayed still, a pattering of feet and growl chilling his joints. Lux shrank, sliding into the farthest corner at its approach. Its breath was heavier than any man, deeper than some beasts, but its step always changed. Lighter some days, louder on others, only its pace was consistent. Pushing a stone door close by the captives' corner, its distance grew.
"That never stops being creepy," Lux shivered, "did someone zombify a bear or something?"
"Can't tell, but I'd rather not meet it."
A deep groan rippled through the caverns, a cracking of wood lifting their eyes towards their jellied stone ceiling.
"The forest can't be liking this," Lux shook her head, "all of this...dead stuff. It's not nature's way."
"I wouldn't worry too much about that," Nautilus stretched, "if this place is anything like Earth, nature wins in the end."
"But we destroy it all the time."
"You think too highly of us," he looked at her calmly, "nature's been playing the ten million year game. We, on the other hand play the year game."
Lux opened her mouth to speak, but paused.
"Protecting beautiful things isn't wrong, do it. Just remember that we need protecting too sometimes."
Footsteps closed in, leather soles clacking against polished floors. Acherres emerged from a nearby hallway, rubbing his bald head with strained speed.
"It intrigues me," Acherres bent knees in front of their cages, "like us, each and every one of you humans have a different aptitude entirely. Ceph and Giccan can do only so much with their...features. Makes me wonder what got you in here."
"it would confuse you if we told you," Nautilus said.
"Oh I doubt that," Acherres grinned, "I have traveled worlds beyond mind and body, seen beings of much greater power than you or I. Why don't you tell me?"
"Cause we have no reason to?" Lux crossed arms, "we're just meat bags to you."
"Why would I think that? If I truly felt neither one of you were worth my time, I'd have my men simply kill you. But don't worry, worst case scenario I'll happily extract your hip bone, then turn you into meat for my future Mechanist."
"Yeah, how about no?" she grimaced.
"Kirito's claim is valid, for now. But in case you're feeling negotiable, I've got a new deal for one of you."
Neither one spoke, staring with foggy eyes at their elegantly clad captor.
"Goodness, not even a question? Why, I should forget about it."
"What's the deal?" Nautilus stared.
"Fan-tastic," Acherres turned to him, "see, I've got problems of my own at home. Have you ever had that one pest in your home? The one that always finds its way back?"
"I guess?"
"For us grounded intellectuals, our pests come in two forms, a spider and a moth. Are you familiar with the name Nephila Regina?"
Both detectives shook their heads.
"She's been a resident of this forest for centuries, her and her heirs to be specific. Despite all natural law, the queen has joined forces with a [Heartwood Great Moth]."
"And I'm guessing you need them dead," Nautilus blinked.
"Precisely, but that's where the problem lies. They've evolved to specifically hunt members of my flock, to drain the magic right out of them. Their senses are tuned to finding us, specifically. This is where you come in, but not as you'd imagine."
"Go on?"
"As individuals, your efforts to destroy such an expansive lair within the Heart-Tree of Zumfut would be in vain if I sent you alone. So here's what I'm sure you're going to savor. I'm going to let you go back to your tribe, but you will tell them of Regina and Moth, that we tried sacrificing you for immortality."
Lux's eyes brightened, leaning forward slightly.
We can get out? He's so stupid, he'll let us report his people!
"If you get your groups to attack them, we will consider you absol-"
Acherres froze, eyes shallow in their gaze, all motion stopped past natural limits. Eyebrows furrowed, looking upon a figure so still, his clothes swaying where he affixed. Lux poked his knee, blinking as her finger returned unanswered.
Wow this place is weird.
And with a blink, Acherres got up with newfound motion. Sighing, he ran fingers across his scalp.
"Never mind," he turned steadily, "I sense this deal is falling on deaf ears."
His warning-less exit prompted Lux to almost jump.
"Wait! We're listening!"
Acherres said nothing more, vanishing behind another doorway. Lux cried softly in defeat, Nautilus frowning, but watching.
Something's wrong, we gave no indication of disinterest. What changed?
-Urbus, 1355 hours
Wearing his more regal attire, PoH checked his right and left, surrounded by twelve constables from Graye Sight, as well as twenty Tauran guards. Standing in front of a barracks' double doors, he brushed his shirt.
"Ready," a constable growled.
"Any act of violence from them should be met with similar," PoH whispered, "we can't afford to lose any more innocent lives."
They opened both panels, drawing weapons as guards of Ceph descent froze, watching them all file inside with a flaccid calm. Stopping in front of Wudramor's desk, PoH looked around. Out of Wudramor's thirty five present watchmen, thirty had icy blue eyes, including Wudramor himself.
"It's been an eventful two weeks hasn't it, Captain?"
"What are you doing, PoH?" Wudramor growled.
"I just came to ask your son a question, when's his birthday?"
"Who?"
PoH smiled.
"Wudramor, as Minister of Altai, I'm placing you under arrest on charges of kidnapping, assisting in the murder of three detectives, sabotage, as well as treason. Guards?"
Constables approached the captain, only for Wudramor to raise hands, allowing his arrest.
"Tauran, gather all with blue eyes, arrest them under the same charges."
"Minister, this is an unusual call."
"All will be clarified."
[To Garr: Could you call all Ceph town guards to the barracks? My work's delivered]
[From: Done]
Rad-Tol-Uhr is a name feared by many souls of many walks, for they are Cel's justice and wrath incarnate. A council of His holiest sentinels, their duty to protect us from The Beast has never failed. Great wings extend from perfect bodies, power escaping from a mere breath, capable of exceeding any meager horror in speed, strength, and hardened by His majesty.
-Book of Cel, Passage 54-4
A/N: Good news for Graye Sight, they're getting somewhere!
Hey guys, be sure to drop a review to let me know whatcha think! Know that your results are coming soon, schedule still continues!
See you on Thursday/Friday!