In which Luca remembers his past defeat, reflects on his present imprisonment, plans for his prophesied future... and eats lunch.
The contents of this chapter are based on canon events and a creative piece originally written on January 21st, 2008.
Special thanks to Madth333 for brainstorming assistance.
He never made it a point to remember any of his men. Their purpose was to serve in his war, and those of the lowest rank were easily replaced. A sea of nameless faces, clad in the official Highland uniform surrounded him on all sides, and he towered above them all from atop his horse. They traipsed through the forest beneath the star-filled sky. Each step forward was almost unbearably tantalizing as they drew closer to their destination. It was only a matter of time now until their night raid would come to fruition, and he burned with anticipation.
"Look," he chuckled, gesturing outwards and speaking to whomever was closest and willing to listen—of course, they all should listen to the words of their prince, "The torches in Dunan Castle are burning. They're probably in there trying to figure out how to run away."
There was some indiscriminate snickering from his men. After each hardship and setback along the way, the thought of the Dunan Army scurrying around like aimless insects was worth savoring. But what he looked forward to the most was crushing those insects beneath his heel. And it was so close, nearly in his grasp.
"I have a report!" a soldier cried as he ran through the brush and approached the front of their entourage.
He never made it a point to remember any of his men. But the voice of this particular messenger remained burned in his memory, and he hated it.
"The advance forces," the soldier continued as he struggled to catch his breath, "our advance forces are under attack by the Dunan Army!"
Before he even had a moment to process the news, a second soldier shouted from their rear, "Lord Luca! The Dunan Army has appeared behind us!"
"What!?" he whipped his head back at the soldier behind him. "Hiding in the woods?! You can't do anything right, you worthless fools!"
It looks like you'll be getting the fight you desire a little earlier than expected.
The low voice of the True Beast Rune whispered to him from afar, reaching the deepest corners of his mind despite physically resting leagues away in Highland. He gripped the bridle and sensed his horse stir uncomfortably. After all the blood sacrifice he performed, all the death rendered by his hand, when would the rune finally choose him as its wielder? A time like this would be perfect for its power.
You know you can't depend on anyone. These worthless worms are beneath you.
A sneer unfurled across his face. Of course. He didn't really need the rune's power. He was strong enough all on his own without its aid. But still, the incompetence of his forces was infuriating.
"L-Lord Luca!"
A soldier dove in front of his horse, but the gesture was too little, too late. A torrent of arrows rained down on them from the surrounding trees, whistling through the air like a chorus of excitable birds. His horse shrieked and whinnied, toppling to the ground. He immediately swung himself over its side and landed flat on his feet before its body met the dirt.
It took a moment for the pain to sink in. He stumbled back with a grunt. There were too many arrows to count, each sticking out at all angles. Some managed to crack through his breastplate, others met no resistance and struck fabric and flesh at the joints in his armor and exposed sides. His chest heaved with each breath. He reached up and snapped an arrow jutting out by his stomach in two, tossing the splintered half to the ground.
"Protect Lord Luca!" another soldier shouted.
They continued to surround him in vain. He could feel their trepidation radiating off them. A second storm of arrows sliced through their blockade. Their bodies crumpled to the ground with little resistance as the arrows cleaved through armor and met flesh. Surrounded by the groans and dying screams of his men, he stumbled and fell to his knees.
Is this all you have to offer? I thought you were better than this.
A fresh wave of pain flooded through him. It was impossible to tell how many new arrows pierced past his armor this round, but every man who guarded him moments earlier laid dead in the dirt, and the rear of his entourage was fast approaching in hopes of lending more aid.
A small pool of blood underneath him began to grow, and he could sense the True Beast Rune's delight in death and bloodshed from afar. Rage and disgust boiled in his chest—it was feeding off their blood—his blood.
Ally or enemy… you all bleed the same.
He struggled to pull himself to his feet, then froze in place as the brush across him parted. Their leader stood at the front of the charge, his red and white sleeveless shift was crisp and unstained as it fluttered in the evening breeze. They locked eyes. He seethed.
Riou.
Again and again, without fail, it was always Riou. How could this pitiful, fresh-faced nothing take their entire entourage by surprise?
The young man remained silent. His warm brown eyes stared straight through him, firm and unwavering. They were only a few years apart in age, yet there was something infuriatingly childlike about the leader of the Dunan Army. Despite being surrounded by death and war, Riou somehow maintained a youthful, untouchable air. He hated it.
"You… How did you... know about... the night raid…"
"Luca Blight!" one of the men at the front of the Dunan Army stepped forward, shaking an angry fist, "I want your head!"
He didn't have the time to listen to the squealing shouts of some pathetic follower. His eyes remained fixed on Riou, and he drew his sword. "Foolish braggart! You think a weakling like you can stand up against me?!"
Highland soldiers from the rear of his entourage surrounded him in a protective formation as they rushed into battle against the Dunan Army. His sword flashed through the air. Every connecting hit was exhilarating. He didn't even care who was standing in his way—anyone obstructing his path to Riou would be cut down without mercy.
More. This isn't enough. Why aren't you killing them faster?
His body ached and burned with exertion. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was dimly aware of the collection of arrows jutting out from his body. Each twist, turn, and step felt slower and more difficult as the pain dug its greedy hooks in deeper and deeper. He sensed the impatience of The True Beast Rune. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. He wasn't supposed to lose.
"Ugh... beaten by the likes of you…"
Beaten? This isn't it. Give more of yourself. When did you become so weak?
There was still time. If he could make a tactical retreat and regroup with the main forces, then establish contact with a medic—
"This time I'll pay you back for sure, Luca Blight!"
Who was talking now?!
It didn't matter. It wasn't Riou.
"You maggots…"
He grunted, fighting back against the disquieting rattle in his chest each time he drew in a breath. Details began to blur together. The flames rippling across his blade from the Sword of Rage rune embedded in its hilt seemed to dance in time with his own frenzied heartbeat. More soldiers from the rear jumped into battle alongside him, but their movements no longer registered. They were so eager to protect, so eager to die. It didn't matter if they died. They were fodder. They were meant to die. After all, the True Beast Rune didn't care who it fed on, whether it was his own men or those of the opposing army. Once again, the bodies of his men dropped around him at his feet.
Look at these miserable weaklings. You carry on, pierced by arrows, while your men are felled one by one.
A furious rumbling coursed through his blood and pounded in his ears. He dropped to one knee and bit the inside of his cheek in anger.
"Y-you... H... how... How could I lose…"
Riou lowered his tonfa with watchful eyes. The young man's yellow scarf was stained with blood. The sight only further infuriated him. He knew it wasn't Riou's blood. It was his.
"You little swine... who do you think you are!?" he growled, rising back to his feet. Pure adrenaline and rage pulsed through him, as if the will of the True Beast Rune were his own. "Why?! … Riou... Why are you the winner?! Why must I lose?! Is this my fate?!"
Fate is unimportant. All that matters is strength. The strength to wipe clean every filthy blemish. Rip and tear until nothing is left.
Riou continued to watch wordlessly. The young man's silence silence only made him angrier.
"I can't die until all of you swine are wiped off the face of this world!"
That's right. Not yet.
The next wave of support from the flank of his entourage approached, providing just enough distraction for him to break away on his own. He hastened through the brush with heavy footsteps. Maybe those who were too preoccupied with concepts of chivalry and knightly codes of conduct might find it cowardly to retreat. But this wasn't a matter of cowardice. He had to survive. He wasn't finished yet.
A gentle summer breeze tousled his hair as he approached the cliff's edge. A steady chorus of singing crickets hung thick in the air. The sound was suffocating, as if they were mocking him. Small, insignificant, weak—completely oblivious to the world at large and all his grand plans. Just like the Dunan Army. Insects worthy of staining the sole of his foot and nothing more.
I expected better from you.
The True Beast Rune hissed into his ear. It was impossible to tell if the burning sensation flowing through his body was due to the pain, or from the rune's wrath. It was disappointed in his weakness and mortal limitations.
"Ugh... y-you…"
There is more blood to be shed.
"I... I can't die... here…" he rasped as he stopped and leaned against the only tree in the clearing. Everything burned. The True Beast Rune seemed unphased by his declaration and continued to needle at him.
You really think you can recover from this? And you wanted to wield my power… how pitiful.
"Have I... really... lost?"
If you need to ask that of yourself, you're already done.
"Damn! You think I'm afraid!? You think I fear death!?"
He clenched his hand into a fist, slamming it into the tree's trunk. The shock pulsed through him, and he braced his core as a fresh wave of pain rippled outwards. A guttural sound filled his ears, drowning out the singing crickets. The rune was laughing at him, its jeers animalistic and coarse. There was nothing he could do to drown it out.
"Fear is a stupid emotion."
As if he feared death. He was death. It was by his hand he rendered unspeakable slaughter. And there was still more to be done. So long as the City-States still existed, he would never be finished—
Something at the base of the tree glimmered, catching his eye.
"Eh? What?"
Curiosity won out. He crouched, wincing as the arrows twisted along with his torso at the movement. "A wooden amulet…" he said, picking it up in his hands and standing upright. It was no larger than a fifty potch-piece, hand-carved in the wood of a yew tree. "What's this doing here?"
He ran his thumb across the smooth woodgrain. The surface was adorned with an intricate pattern of latticework. A flickering light gently trickled through the holes.
"What's that light? Is this a cover?"
The True Beast Rune didn't see it worthwhile to dignify his question with any sort of answer. He traced along the latticework until his thumb hit a crevice in the wood. With a tiny click, the amulet's lid sprang open, and a flurry of lights scattered and danced before his eyes.
"It's… fireflies? There are fireflies inside? What kind of joke…" he murmured to himself, staring down at the amulet as if it could answer him. "Whoever it was, they'll pay for this… How stupid… it's not even worth taking."
The memory of his mother's face filtered through the haze of pain and rage, momentarily drowning out the roar of the True Beast Rune between his ears. Her jubilant smile as she looked out from the window of the royal caravan across an open field blanketed with innumerable twinkling fireflies—
Something sick lurched in his stomach, and he buried the memory back within the deepest recesses of his mind where it belonged. "Stupid... this whole world…"
"What's that light?! Shoot!"
A furious volley of arrows rained down on him, more intense than the first two rounds earlier. He groaned and fell to his knees. Pain erupted and burned all through his body. He coughed, and the ground beneath him grew damp and red with his blood.
Branches snapped and brush rustled. The Dunan Army stood in front of him once more. Another follower burst through the crowd, sword in hand and an angry scowl on his face. "I've caught you, Luca Blight! Now you're finished!"
"Finished... you say…"
Finished. You're finished.
His shoulders trembled. A slow, unsteady laughter bubbled up in his chest. It reached a feverish pitch, the sound crazed and almost foreign as it reached his ears. "What are you saying, maggot?! What are you squealing about, pig?!" he staggered to his feet and swayed in place. "I've got the power to take your life, boy!"
"Lord Luca!"
Reinforcements burst through the brush and swarmed in front of him. He never made it a point to remember any of his men. Their valor was noble, but ineffective.
"Lord Luca! Hurry! Escape!"
Fools. All of them. They're just fodder. They're not going anywhere.
And in your state… neither are you.
"Arrows away!"
Another round fired off from the Dunan Army's archers, bringing every single man protecting him to the ground.
"My holy war… don't interfere… you scum…"
His vision tunneled in on itself. There were no soldiers, there were no arrows. There was only one man standing opposite him, silently taunting him. With the remaining reserves of his strength, he slowly unsheathed his sword, then sprinted forward.
"Riou… here I come, Riou!"
The young man stood poised with his tonfa at the ready, then rushed to meet him.
"You pig! Die—!"
Dirt crunched underneath his feet. Blood pounded in his ears. The breath in his lungs seized and sputtered. A wild, blunt blow struck his chest with a sickening splinter. Suddenly his back hit the dirt, and the stars in the night sky soared above him.
He coughed again and struggled to sit up. His hand shook. His fingers slowly released the hilt. He grit his teeth and slowly rose back to his feet, solely powered by whatever dregs of adrenaline he had left to spare. "I don't have the power to swing my sword anymore…" he groaned.
The leader of the Dunan Army quietly watched him. The head of his tonfa was stained red.
"Riou… Why do you fight?! Why do you wish to destroy me?!"
"To end this war."
Of course. Finally the man spoke, but all he had to offer was a child's answer. After all this time, that was Riou's reason? Pathetic. Why did he expect anything more?
"To end this war? That's a fairy tale... it's a foolish child's dream."
Riou offered no response, but the look in his eyes…
He hated it. He hated it because it was full of pity.
He scoffed, then pounded a fist against his chest. The pain that billowed out from the impact didn't matter. None of it mattered anymore.
"Even if you kill me and defeat Highland, you won't have peace!" he roared and swung his arms out to the sides. "You'll have a defeated country screaming for our vengeance!"
Riou continued to stare. It felt as though the entire Dunan Army was transfixed on him and holding their breath. But most notable at all was the hollow, thunderous silence. For the first time in recent memory, the voice of the True Beast Rune was silent. His thoughts were solely his own.
Of course… of course…
My own blood… I've become your meal, haven't I?
With legs trembling, he stepped backwards. Somewhere in his subconscious he always knew this might happen. He laughed and felt the blood gurgling in his lungs.
"Excellent! Excellent! The rumbling in my body! The thirst that scorched my flesh! It is disappearing!"
At last. He was free.
"Listen, Riou!" he clutched at his chest and felt the arrows burrowed into his body tremble with each shuddering breath, "It took hundreds to kill me, but I killed humans by the thousands—!"
I didn't need the True Beast Rune. I didn't need anyone.
"Look at me! I am sublime! I am the true face of evil!"
He reached up to the sky and slowly closed his fist.
Were the stars always this bright?
Or was it fireflies again?
His vision blurred. His knees buckled. The taste of dirt and blood filled his mouth—
Luca sat up with a jolt and coughed, the sound raspy as it echoed against the stone walls of Budehuc's jail cell. His chest heaved, and he was drenched in a cold sweat. As the reality of his surroundings sank in, his ragged breathing slowly eased and settled.
A nightmare?
No. It wasn't a nightmare. It was a memory. His last memory before waking up in the frosty fields bordering Iksay Village.
A stinging pain billowed across the back of his hand from beneath his gauntlet. Luca ripped the glove away as if it were filled with hot coals. The mark of the True Beast Rune stared back at him, branded onto his skin like a fresh, raw burn. Its silhouette reminded him of a howling wolf, not unlike the same wolf adorning the crest of Highland. He cautiously traced a fingertip along the surface of his skin.
Not your finest moment, was it?
The True Beast Rune whispered in his mind, its voice a low rumble.
Luca grunted and quickly pulled his gauntlet back on. The mark of a True Rune was far more noticeable than he preferred, and it was better to keep it hidden.
Hidden? Isn't this what you wanted? To wield my power? Now that you are alive once more—
"What? 'Once more'?! I did not die," he growled. "I did not fall in that battle. You are mistaken."
You disappointed me. Don't let it happen again.
The burning sensation across the surface of his hand extinguished, as if the True Beast Rune was acknowledging him. Luca sat hunched over in silence. His eyes remained focused on the single torch affixed to the wall beyond the cell bars. Its flame danced and flickered, taunting him from just out of reach.
How long do you plan to uphold this farce?
His rune rumbled impatiently. Its frustrations weren't unfounded. The mere notion of Luca Blight in jail was laughable, yet here he was.
"Heh. I have my reasons," Luca said. He marveled at his exceptional restraint and self-control. Allowing himself to remain imprisoned in such a pathetic excuse for a jail cell was an insult to his status, strength, and self-respect. But the alternative—
His skin prickled from underneath his gauntlet. Somehow Luca knew his rune was laughing at him.
If it helps these maggots sleep at night, let them continue thinking they have power over you.
He clenched his fist, a nonverbal gesture to remind his rune who was in charge. The decision to stay and wait for Yun's little 'council' to properly release him was not an easy choice. The memory of the petulant child-mage teleporting him back against the cold, stone floor again wasn't something he wanted to experience a second time, but it only served as a small deterrent. Securing a proper release would ensure Yun's continued favor, and staying in her good graces was the only way to get answers.
"The ability to see into the future…" Luca smirked, "If I only had power like this at my disposal in the past, my war would've been unstoppable."
It was easy to write off the string of unconnected images that flashed through his mind the day the shaman grabbed his hand outside the Budehuc bath house as cheap, showy magic. But dismissing her prophecy was a mistake, and now Luca was convinced he made the right choice in keeping her close. The jail cell in Yun's vision was undoubtedly the same one he was sitting in. And one of the unfamiliar faces he saw was none other than the annoying brat yapping at the castle master's side, and coincidentally Yun's friend. Even though they never met before, her face was instantly familiar from the vision Yun shared. It seemed as though the shaman's power was legitimate now that two elements from her prophecy were validated.
He closed his eyes and revisited the visions again in his mind. A glowing lantern light, rolls of soiled gauze bandage, shining fireworks, and most concerning of all—fresh snow stained with blood.
Whose blood was it? A future victim?
No… it's your blood.
The voice of his rune was low and cautious, confirming his own unspoken suspicions.
How fortunate to earn a warning this time. We'll do well to avoid meeting another unfortunate end.
"There was no 'unfortunate end,'" he growled irritably at the rune's reminder.
Ever since Yun shared her prophecy, what started as a hunch was slowly confirmed as she continued to withhold details. Of course she was reluctant to share more if it meant foretelling his own demise. If uncovering the details surrounding his prophesied death required him to patiently wait in jail, the inconvenience would be well worth it once he learned the truth. And once he got his answers, then he could focus on planning his next move—
"Are you still sulking in the corner? The cell is not that small! There are plenty of other places to sit!"
An unwelcome chipper voice broke his train of thought. Luca slammed his closed fist against the wall, crushing a scampering beetle without batting an eye. "What are you doing back here? Are you that eager to die?"
Cecile stood in front of the cell bars, her voice louder than it had any right being. How quickly she forgot about their last clash. If she thought she was safe with him back in the cell, she had another thing coming. He pulled his fist away from the wall, leaving a greasy smear behind.
"Die? The only one who should worry about dying is you, Luca!"
"Is that meant to be a threat? Don't make me laugh. You couldn't even hope to put a scratch on me."
"What are you talking about?! I'm doing nothing of the sort! If you keep sulking in the corner like that without eating, you'll die! Just because you are in prison doesn't mean you should starve, and it's time for lunch!" She raised a small bundle wrapped in cloth, the faint scent of a freshly-made sandwich wafting through the fabric.
Of course. Another sandwich. Not the most creative little thing, was she? He rolled his eyes.
"Tch. I'm not starving."
But that sandwich did smell pretty tempting. Not that the pigs in the castle knew anything about making decent food. As the passing days spent at Budehuc turned to months, he found himself missing Highland cuisine more than he wanted to admit. Granted it was still better than war rations...
Cecile unwrapped the cloth and offered him half of the sandwich. "I made sure not to make ham this time, since you were so against it last time," she cast him a disapproving look and wagged a scolding finger, as if he were a small child caught misbehaving. "You realize we have rules everyone follows here, don't you? I'm not about to let Master Thomas get in trouble over a resident missing meals and starving to death simply because they're stubborn! Maybe if you had behaved yourself, you might've been able to attend our spring festival!"
"Hmph." His hand shot out from the jail cell and snatched the sandwich half. "Can't you get anything right? What is this crap?"
"It's turkey and chicken together! Since… well, I didn't know which one you'd like, so I figured you may as well just eat both!"
"Ham is better."
"Well, you had your chance at a proper ham sandwich! But someone decided to throw a fit," Cecile tsked, "Whose fault is that?!"
Luca glared, tearing into the sandwich. The bread was fresh, and there was something leafy with a pleasing crunch in the middle. Somewhere in the back of his mind he realized he forgot to consider the possibility of poison and cursed himself for allowing his hunger to cloud his judgment. Then again, the guard captain seemed far too inept to know how to properly concoct anything sufficiently lethal in the first place.
"Did you make this?"
Cecile nodded, taking the other half out of the bundle.
"That explains why it's so bad." Actually, it wasn't bad at all, and he hoped she wasn't planning on eating it. "Tch... why are you doing this? I told you I was going to kill you. You can't curry favor with a sandwich."
"Miss Yun likes you, and I would be an awful friend if I let you starve here in jail, not to mention the whole mess it'd make for Master Thomas!" she nodded sagely, then paused and wrinkled her nose in thought. "But… if you're saying you prefer curry, I can manage that! Oh, and extra spicy too!"
"What the hell are you going on about?"
"Your next meal, of course!"
He narrowed his eyes. Was this some sort of attempt to lower his defenses, or was she really that stupid? "You think offering me food is going to change things? You pigs are all the same."
She stared back and tilted her head in confusion. Apparently the thought of convincing him to spare her life through food hadn't even occurred to her. "What are you talking about? I'm trying to make sure you don't starve, silly."
There was an awkward silence as they both exchanged looks, then he rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth to clean away the crumbs. "Gimme that other piece. If this is the only food your dump of a castle has to offer, you should be ashamed."
"Just you wait until you try my curry! But I refuse to prepare any if you're causing trouble, so you'd best behave then!" Cecile's smile was bright, blinding, and obnoxious.
"Whatever. Now get out of here before I change my mind!"
She turned and skipped up the sublevel steps, his words doing nothing to dampen her encouraged cheer. The sound of her clamoring footsteps tapering off was almost as annoying as her smile. Her stupidity was practically comical. The lingering sourness from his earlier nightmare dissolved, and he couldn't help but feel almost amused by her idiocy. It wasn't until he was positive she was long out of earshot that he started eating the remaining sandwich. He didn't hate it, but she didn't need to know that.
"Oh! It looks like you've already found something to eat?"
Yun.
The shaman approached his cell with her own small bundle in hand. Unlike Cecile's noisy gait, Yun's footsteps were virtually silent. She offered a graceful smile. "I made you a lunch box, but it appears someone already got to you first," she said.
"Heh. Aren't you supposed to see the future? Shouldn't you have already known?"
Her expression clouded. That wasn't exactly the reaction he was going for.
"Tch. You knew and didn't tell me? I guess I can let this slide, seeing as how it's just a sandwich."
"I did warn you not to continue your fight with Cecile," the shaman remarked after a moment of silence.
He polished off the remainder of the sandwich and chuckled. "I'm still waiting for that regret you said I'd be experiencing by now."
"Not by now, much later—" she abruptly cut herself off and blushed.
"What."
Yun twirled a piece of hair between her fingers and looked away. "It's nothing. I did say there are many different possible paths the spirits share with me. Anything could happen."
"I don't appreciate you keeping secrets from me," he reached through the bars and grabbed her hand. She was taunting him. She knew the answers, and her dogged refusal to disclose anything continued to try his patience. He squeezed her hand and took delight in sensing her fingers twitch uncomfortably. "Didn't you hear me when I told you that I own you?"
She blushed again. "I already told you, I can't force visions, Luca…"
"Then tell me what you saw. If you can't show me, tell me."
Her eyes glanced back down at his hand around hers. "Luca, have you ever actually been in a relationship?"
"What does it matter?"
She giggled. "Well, for starters, you can't just make demands like that."
"I told you. I don't make requests. I take what I want."
"It's just… all our dates have consisted of going for walks and talking… You should try putting in a little more effort!"
"I'm in jail, idiot."
Yun giggled again and raised his hand in hers. He found himself loosening his grip without realizing it. Her expression turned shy, and she looked up at him through lowered lashes. "Then...how about another kiss?"
A slow smirk crossed his face. Flaunting feminine wiles was something Luca assumed was beneath the shaman, but clearly he was wrong. What a disappointment. Women were all the same. "Making demands of me now, Yun? How about you tell me what you saw?"
"You wouldn't like it."
"All the more reason why I think I deserve to know," he released her hand and tilted her chin towards him. The shaman smelled like fresh spring air. She didn't need to know he had no relationship experience. Just like everything else in his life, whatever he wanted he took by brute force, regardless if it was answers or her attention.
"I keep pushing fate...but I'm too curious to stop," she murmured and rose to meet his face through the cell bars. "Can you blame me? I just… I want to see where it takes me."
"Heh, it's about time you started acting a little more selfish. I'll get my answers eventually."
Whatever Yun saw, Luca decided the contents of her vision were the key to staying alive and achieving his goals. Lanterns, fireworks, blood-stained snow… it was only a matter of time before he got his answers. The only thing that mattered in the end was obtaining what he wanted.