The child stared out of the window, at the full moon cushioned by the light of the stars. He knew, deep in his soul, that she was still alive. He'd know if she was killed in the raid. There was a feeling in him, though, unsettling and dreading, that something was dreadfully wrong.
"Mithos! It's time to go, if you are still willing."
"I am, Lord Aurion," the boy responded meekly, tearing his gaze from the moon and to his companion, the man who would accompany him to attempt to form the pact with Efreet. It was dangerous, they both knew. Efreet demanded that the pact-maker do battle with him before forming a pact. Mithos would lose such a battle, would become severely hurt even if he attempted to aid Lord Aurion. Styx had to implore with the Summon Spirit to allow Styx to battle in Mithos' place. It was possible that the end result would force Styx to accept Efreet's power, as well, and it would kill him.
For this human man being willing to risk his life for both a half-elf, and for the world, Mithos felt obligated to try. Styx was willing; he had to be as well.
As the two descended into the Triet governor's mansion's basement, into the temple that was built in homage to the Summon Spirit of Fire, Mithos could only pray that this sick feeling was about this, and not any danger his sister might be in.
Martel stared out of the window, at the full moon cushioned by the light of the stars. She was disturbed, very deeply, and couldn't pinpoint why. The pair had traveled through the night; this moon was the watery moon of pre-dawn. Kratos told her to rest while he sought to bribe or explain their situation to Sybak's militia. She couldn't. Of course, being wanted for murder might have something to do with the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, but for some reason she didn't think this was the cause.
They had found a midnight ferry easily enough; word of Prince Tylor's death hadn't reached the port yet. Martel got an eyeful of the monstrosity of a bridge the King of Meltokio was trying to build, designed to span the ocean between the Meltokio and Sybak continents. It was the second time she'd seen it, and it looked even worse in the darkness than it had in daylight, sinister and foreboding. Why it had this effect on her, she had no idea.
It still wasn't ready to be used, and would not be for several centuries, if ever. Martel was grateful for this, more than preferring to travel by ferry than to walk across that thing. Nevertheless, the journey had left them both exhausted. She knew she should be resting, as Kratos ordered, but she simply couldn't.
She jumped as the door to their room opened, and turned to the entrance. "Did you get any sleep at all?" Kratos asked as he entered, closing and locking the door behind him. The man had a bundle that he laid on his own bed, and started to go through it before waiting for Martel's answer.
"No," she said softly. "I'm too anxious."
"If it's about our wanted status, you can relax," he told her calmly, pulling various pieces of clothing from the bundle. "I spoke with both the Dean of the University and the Commander of the militia and pleaded our case. While they're reticent about harboring fugitives, apparently my doing my job has caused them to feel indebted to me."
"Oh? Why's that? And what're those?" she asked, pointing at the clothes Kratos had spread out on his bed.
"Those're clothing. As for-"
"I can see they're clothing. Why did you get them? How? The marketplace will be closed for hours still."
Kratos patiently ignored the interruption, writing her smarminess off to the irritability of exhaustion and worry. "We can't parade around Tethe'alla in our current clothes. We're both easily identified as a Knight and Servant from the castle, and why would we be traipsing around outside of the castle like this? As for how, they're clothes left over from a consignment sale designed to support students who can't afford the tuition themselves. We got lucky that there's clothing that will fit us." Kratos eyed Martel, giving her a pleasant shiver and aggravating her at the same time. "At least, I hope what I procured for you will fit you. It looks like it should." He waited for another comment, then asked, "May I answer your question as to why the Sybak government feels indebted to me now?"
Humbled, Martel looked at the window. "Of course. I'm sorry."
Kratos hesitated- probably feeling badly about Martel feeling badly, as she'd gotten to know him- and then said, "Tylor was always petitioning the King to cut or eliminate funding to the city, claiming that the money would be better spent by the war or even constructing the bridge. I was the one who invariably ended up talking sense into the King when it seemed Tylor had convinced him. They owe the operation of the University to me, or so they feel."
"I see."
There was silence, although companionable. Then Kratos said, "Let's try to get some sleep. I don't want to overstay their hospitality. The city can get in serious trouble if they're caught harboring known fugitives. I want to be gone by tomorrow morning."
"But where will we go?" Martel asked, her fearfulness finally surfacing.
Kratos hesitated, this time in the form of a thoughtful pause. I must know him pretty well if I can tell what his pauses mean, Martel thought in mild amusement. Kratos didn't notice her slight smile and finally responded, "I have a friend who lives in a secluded keep near the Tethe'alla-Sylvarant border. He will help us get to Sylvarant, where we can plead for asylum."
Martel was dubious. "Are they going to give asylum to one of their enemy's highest ranking Knights?"
"I don't see why not," Kratos replied smoothly. "I did, after all, take out their enemy's Prince. That should carry some weight. It helps that it was in self-defense, since the Sylvarant King has a lot of respect for honor."
Kratos' explanation did nothing to cure her skepticism. If anything else, it made it worse. "And how do you know this?"
"I've met him," he answered. Finally seeing the doubt on Martel's face, he sighed. "Martel, you said yourself that I'm one of- was one of- Tethe'alla's highest ranking knights. Do you really think that King Meltokio and King Cleo didn't try to work things out? This war has been going on forever, and I mean that almost literally." He looked away, out the window. "This wasn't their war. Neither of them even knows why it started; nobody knows. But for some reason, it couldn't be fixed. I was an envoy a few times during those talks."
Again, silence descended, this time ending with Kratos saying, "You can stay up if you wish. I am exhausted and we've got a bit of distance to travel tomorrow. I'll see you in the morning."
As Kratos began stripping off the remaining excesses of his uniform- gloves, boots and socks, belt, a sash that portrayed his rank, and Martel assumed he would be discarding his shirt as well- Martel said, "Wait a second."
"It can wait until morning," Kratos said firmly, tossing a boot aside.
"No, I just want to know- who is your friend? Not someone who was involved in that raid?"
Kratos laughed. "No, absolutely not. Yuan's parents are pacifists and they've rubbed off on him."
"Yuan? That sounds like an elven name."
The man chuckled anew, laying down in his bed and pulling the covers up to his chin. "Goodnight, Martel," he said firmly.
Knowing when she had been dismissed, Martel laid back, pulled the covers to her chin, and closed her eyes. Within moments she felt the world drop away, and thought sleepily, Oh. I must've been more tired than I thought…
"Lord Yuan! Travelers!"
Yuan paused mid-exercise, twisting to look at the night guard. "At this time at night?" he asked rhetorically. Of course there were travelers at this time of night. His guards didn't have a particular liking for practical jokes.
The half-elf set his butterfly sword down, coming to stand next to the night guard, who still held the spyglass to his eye. "It kind of looks like Sir Kratos, my Lord," the guard observed.
Yuan's first reaction to this news was to proclaim that the guard must be mistaken, but he managed to bite back those words. Kratos had a very distinct appearance, and yet Yuan couldn't fathom why Kratos would be out here at this time of night. Kratos should have been in Meltokio. "Let me see," Yuan ordered, holding out a hand for the spyglass. He put the spyglass to his eye, and his confusion turned to shock as he focused on the male traveler. "Yes, that's Kratos all right. No one else has that mop of red hair. It'd kill the man to brush it once in a while, I swear," Yuan muttered under his breath, then focused on the man's companion. "A woman, huh? That sly fox," he drawled, then pulled spyglass from his eye. "I'm going down to meet them. Prepare Tranquil, the two of them must be pretty tired by now. I will take Fiery."
"As you command, Lord Yuan."
The guard went to the intercom, transmitting Yuan's orders. By the time Yuan arrived at the stables, the two horses the young Lord had ordered were waiting for him, along with an entourage. "I said I am going down to meet them," Yuan commented irritably. "I said nothing about bodyguards."
"But Lord Yuan," one of the guards protested. "Sir Kratos sent no word that he would be coming, which is highly unusual. It's dark, and with your family history-"
"My eyes are fine," Yuan snapped, "and that's Kratos. I don't need an entourage." Yuan didn't bother looking for his guards' reactions, but as none of them made a move to further prepare to accompany him, he guessed he was being obeyed. The young noble mounted his horse, then took Tranquil's reins and kicked Fiery into motion, giving the more docile horse a little tug. Tranquil had no trouble keeping up with Fiery.
As he approached the travelers, he confirmed to himself that it was indeed Kratos as the man raised a hand and waved. Yuan galloped up to the pair and dismounted, moving immediately to embrace the Knight. "Welcome, my friend," he said quietly, "although such surprise visits are highly irregular from you."
Kratos nodded. "As I can tell you suspect, there is a tale to this visit, and it is not a pleasant one. Can we discuss it in the morning?"
"Of course. You and your companion must be exhausted." His gaze shifted to his companion, noting with interest that the other traveler was a half-elf. "May I ask your name, Lady?"
The girl flushed in the moonlight. "I'm not a lady," she replied. "My name is Martel. I'm Kratos' ser-"
"Friend," Kratos cut her off. "She's my friend."
"Friend?" Martel seemed shocked; Yuan was amused. She obviously didn't know him very well.
He held his comment, choosing instead to simply observe the resultant exchange. "Martel," Kratos said, wearily, "you are my friend, you have been for weeks. You were my servant only in name, and being an outlaw, I can hardly call you my servant anymore."
"Outlaw? Whoa, hey, what's this about?" Yuan asked, suddenly alarmed.
"I'd appreciate it if we discussed it in the morning," said Kratos, "as we already agreed. Although, if you need to know now, I would request that we don't stand around out here. Martel isn't used to hard travel and I've pushed her for the last two days. She's about ready to collapse."
"No, I'm not," Martel protested.
"You are," Yuan said, taking a quick assessment of the woman's condition. "Here, I bought Tranquil with me. Do you mind riding with Kratos?"
"Of course not, but I can walk."
Here Kratos interjected. "If Yuan's offering a horse, I'm taking it. I can't force you to ride, but I'd highly recommend it. I am almost to my own limit, and you are not much better off."
Martel sighed heavily. "I guess I'll ride, then."
Kratos mounted first, and then Yuan helped Martel pull herself up in front of Kratos. Yuan then re-mounted Fiery, and the three started back to the keep at an easy pace. They rode in silence for a moment, and then Kratos observed in amusement, "She's sound asleep."
"I figured as much," Yuan replied softly. "Do you want to tell me about what's brought you out here?"
Kratos kept his face down, letting the shadows mask him. "Not particularly," he replied. "You have the right to know, however, and if you chose not to take us in because of it, I understand. We just need enough provisions to get to Triet."
The young lord shook his head. "I wish you were comfortable enough to tell me about it, but it is your choice. Any pushing I would do would be due to curiosity, seeing as you feel the need to flee Tethe'alla completely," said Yuan, his tone one of wonder. "But I won't force you to tell me anything you don't wish to."
"Thank you."
They passed the rest of the ride making small talk, Kratos filling Yuan in on the latest military movements, Yuan commenting about how poor the hunting had been and, "I'm pretty sure that's due to your military movements. You're scaring the game away."
When they arrived back at the keep, Yuan dismounted and Kratos eased Martel off Tranquil's back and into Yuan's arms. The woman barely stirred as the transition happened. Once Kratos was off the horse, Yuan indicated to the guards to rub down the two horses, and then the pair headed into the keep, Yuan still carrying Martel. "My parents will understand not going to see them right now," Yuan commented in a low voice. "It's late, and Martel's already asleep. They would probably want you to rest first."
"Thank you," Kratos responded simply, as they came to the guest quarters. Kratos opened the door for Yuan, and he carried Martel inside.
Yuan laid the woman down on the nearest bed and pulled a blanket over her. "I'll go speak to my father now, though. I'll ask him for your provisions; there shouldn't be a problem. Hopefully they'll be ready by the time you two are rested."
"Again, thank you," Kratos replied, taking a seat on the edge of the bed closest to Martel's. "I'll stay here tonight; I'm sure the room I usually use isn't ready."
"Correct. I'm not sure it'd be ready if we had the usual notice," Yuan said wryly. "You know this place and the packrats who live here. Your room's in sad shape." Yuan turned to leave, and as he did, he said, "Get some sleep, Kratos. You look like you desperately need it."
Martel woke slowly at first, the light of dawn filtering through the windows of the room and then through her eyelashes. Upon realizing that this chamber was completely strange to her, though, the half-elf sat bolt upright, looking around in a momentary panic. The memory of coming to the keep came back to her, calming her enough to take inventory of the room. She was alone; another bed was mussed, and she assumed that Kratos had slept there. The clothes that he had garnered for himself in Sybak- simple tunic and breeches- were discarded in a corner. Martel discovered that she still wore the simple peasant's dress, as well, but there was a finer garment on the stand beside her bed.
She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, investigating the garment. It was a set. The tunic was a little longer than a man's, with a belted waist. Below the belt the fabric was cut to form a sort of ragged edge. There was also a pair of simple leggings. The whole ensemble was varying shades of green, white and black.
Feeling bold, Martel made the assumption that this outfit was intended for her- why else would it be left by her bed, to tease her? She made a quick look out the chamber door to make sure no one was nearby. Assured that she was alone, she swiftly changed out of the peasant's dress and into this new outfit. This accomplished, Martel's next dilemma was that she was sound asleep when they'd actually arrived and she didn't know anything about this castle, and she was hungry.
So far, she had slept in and changed into better clothing without a beating for stepping out of line. Deciding to press her luck once more, Martel timidly left the chamber, looking around. The corridor was plain, and ran either way. One direction was as good as another, so Martel gingerly crept along, cringing as she came to each door and junction in hallways.
The half-elf practically jumped out of her skin when one of the doors she passed opened. She managed to stifle a shriek, but it was plain to the woman who had left the room that Martel was startled. "Oh my, I'm so sorry, dear. I didn't mean to frighten you!"
"I-it's okay. I'm just a little jumpy," Martel responded, fighting to calm her pounding heart.
An odd expression crossed the woman's face. "I could understand other half-elves being jumpy, but not one who accompanies Lord Kratos." The woman peered closer at Martel. "You are Lord Kratos' companion, correct?"
"Yes," said Martel, now just slightly uneasy. "I- I can't find Kratos, though, and I wasn't sure if it was all right for me to leave the guest room."
"Of course it's all right! Why wouldn't it be?"
"Well, because… Because… well… I'm a half-elf," Martel finally got out, giving up on trying to be diplomatic at implying potential racism on her host's part.
Rather than being insulted, though, the woman burst into laughter. Seeing Martel's puzzlement at this reaction, the woman calmed herself. "Lord Kratos didn't tell you that our own young Master is a half-elf, did he?"
This fact struck Martel like lightning. "No, he didn't," she said quietly. That man last night; his ears were rounded, but that didn't mean anything, she realized. Many half-elves were graced with the features of either parent and none of the other. Kratos had embraced Yuan as if he were a brother. Martel then gasped at that thought. Could it be-?
"I know what you're thinking, Miss, and no, there's no relation," the woman said wryly, but not unkindly. "They are simply very close friends. A human and a half-elf being good friends isn't too common, is it?"
"No, it's not."
"So your shock is to be expected," the woman concluded cheerfully. "Now then, I'm assuming you went looking for Lord Kratos. I imagine he and Master Yuan are sparring in the battlements. They can't spar in the courtyard like normal people; it must be on the walls. Shall I take you to them?"
Martel nodded dumbly, and then followed as the woman walked away. She half-listened, responding politely as the woman rambled. From what Martel was able to gather, this woman was probably a high-ranking servant. The woman led Martel to a stairwell that spiraled up into a tower, and then out onto the keep's wall.
The wall was quite wide, and two people could spar comfortably atop it. It looked as though a match had just ended, though, with Kratos and Yuan both disarmed and teasing each other as they wound down. "One of you two are going to fall off this wall one of these days," the woman said to them in a loud voice.
In response, Yuan thumped the outer wall, which came to his waist. "We'd have to seriously be trying to kill each other for that to happen," he called back. "I doubt that will ever come to pass."
"It might if you don't knock off the magic during our matches," Kratos commented.
Yuan made an inaudible comment back while the woman laughed. Then, to Martel, she said, "Well, here you are. I'm assuming you'll be all right if I go back to my duties?"
"Y-yes. Thank you."
"It's no trouble, dear."
The woman retreated back down the stairs, and Martel walked forward to where the two men were. Now that she saw him in the light, she saw that Yuan had long blue hair, a color that humans were unable to have naturally. It was pulled back in a low ponytail now; if allowed free, it would cover his ears. He would pass as an elf, easily. "I see the outfit I borrowed for you fits," said Yuan. "I'm glad. I didn't get a very good look at you last night."
Martel smoothed her hands over the tunic self-consciously. "It fits perfectly." Then, tentatively, she joked, "You've got a better eye than Kratos, anyway."
The Knight snorted at this, and Yuan chuckled. "No, I think I just have a greater appreciation for beautiful women than he does."
"Yuan," Kratos growled in a half-mocking tone, and then said, "You're both right, though. I've been outfitting men in armor since I joined the army. You are neither a man, nor are you wearing armor."
"I'm going to be merciful today and not rib you more, Kratos," Yuan commented.
"Thanks. That means a lot, buddy."
Martel laughed outright at this, eliciting smiles from both of the men. She managed to calm herself fairly quickly, and then said, "Humans and half-elves being best friends it pretty rare, and I can see that you're very close. May I ask how you met?"
"We met in school," Kratos answered immediately. "They initially chose to school him in private, but his father soon realized that his hair was long enough that if it was done, he would pass as an elf."
"Then I went to school," Yuan continued the story. "However, even passing as an elf, I was the only one in the class. I wasn't bullied, but I was very lonely. Kratos was in a similar situation, because he-"
"Yuan," Kratos cut the other man off quietly. His face was blank, but his tone clearly said not to go wherever he was going with that.
Yuan looked contrite. "I'm sorry," he said to Kratos, and then continued, "Kratos knew what I was going through. Once we both realized that the other wasn't out to make us out to be fools, we became friends very quickly. That almost ended when I told Kratos that I was really a half-elf, of course."
Martel was taken aback by this. "Why? I thought Kratos had always been accepting of half-elves! What happened?"
"I always have," Kratos answered her with a withering glare at Yuan. "My issue was that I had been lied to, and not his race as Yuan so likes to imply."
"Maybe I still don't believe it wasn't my race?" Yuan said with a smirk.
"And maybe you're a smartass who likes to irritate me," Kratos snapped back at him. The Knight ignored Yuan's chortling laugh as he continued, "In any event, I stopped talking to him entirely; I was so hurt that he'd lied to me. I wrote to my father about it, in my regular communication with him, and, well… if one can be spanked with words, Father did it. His response letter made me realize the gravity of Yuan's race and that it was understandable that he had lied about it. Fortunately Yuan forgave me fairly quickly."
"And I needed a verbal spanking from my father about it before that happened," Yuan added.
Martel smiled. "Well, I think it's wonderful that you're friends. There isn't much in the world to have hope about anymore, I'll take anything I get."
Yuan assumed she spoke of the persecution most half-elves were subject to; however, Kratos had seen the helpless and hopeless expressions Martel had when she thought he wasn't looking. He figured that this was a good time to ask her about them, but something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye and the words died on his lips. His mouth suddenly dry, he stood and turned towards the edge of the wall, looking out over the road. "Knights," he said quietly as Martel came to stand beside him.
The woman swallowed hard. "What do we do now, Kratos?"
Yuan moved to stand on Kratos' other side. "An entire troop?" he said in bewilderment. "What did you do, Kratos?"
"You're about to find out," the human replied grimly.
The captain of the troop stepped forward. He could clearly see the three standing on the wall, and rather than proceed to the gate of the keep, he raised his voice so that they could hear him. "We have been sent to retrieve Sir Kratos Aurion and bring him back to Meltokio to stand trial for the murder of Prince Tylor Meltokio- alive or dead."
"You murdered the Prince?" Yuan gasped.
Ignoring his friend, Kratos called down, "What of my servant, Martel?"
After a brief pause, the captain called back, "We have no orders regarding your servant. Only you, Sir."
"Then I am coming down. I will be unarmed."
"Thank you, Sir."
As Kratos turned to the tower, Yuan jumped in front of him. "Kratos, stop!" he said in desperation. "A dead or alive order gives them carte blanch to murder you!"
"But they won't," Kratos replied. "I know that man. I respect him and I know it is mutual. I won't be harmed."
"Not until you get to Meltokio!" Martel intervened. "Kratos, please listen! Maybe I'm just as prejudiced against humans as they are against me, but I know that you'll be executed. There's no way that a man who killed anyone in defense of a half-elf will get a trial, let alone someone who killed the Prince! You'll die if you go with them!"
"If that is the penalty for my crime," Kratos replied in a careful monotone, "then so be it." As he moved carefully around his friends, he said, "I'm sorry, Yuan, but I must ask you to help Martel. She was separated from her younger brother in the raid that brought her to Meltokio. He was last seen in Triet. Please help her find him."
"No, Kratos, you're still going to help her find him," said Yuan as he followed the Knight down the tower stairs. Both half-elves begged him to have some sense, but he coolly refuted all of their arguments, leaving them standing helpless before the gate of the keep as he proceeded beyond it.
The captain of the troop sent to arrest Kratos looked calmly at Yuan where he stood inside the gate. "I'm assuming that the lord and lady of this keep don't know the charges against you."
His tone was obviously suggesting. Kratos realized what he was doing, but it was unnecessary. "I haven't even seen them yet," he replied calmly.
"And your half-elf friend?"
"My name is Yuan," the blue-haired man said angrily as he stepped forward. Kratos noted with dismay that Yuan was now armed; he brandished an axe and came to stand just in front of Kratos.
"Yuan, please, go back to the keep," Kratos begged him.
Yuan paid him no attention. "If you really have as much respect for this man as he claims you do," he said heatedly, "you wouldn't arrest him without hearing his side of it!"
The captain was obviously angered; Kratos knew he responded purely out of that respect for him. "That is, unfortunately, not how it works, Yuan," he said coldly. "I am sure things aren't as they seem. However, Sir Kratos does not deny that he is Tylor's killer. It is up to the King to decide what circumstances led to the stabbing and if Sir Kratos is responsible."
"So that's it?" Yuan spat, still ignoring Kratos' pleas to go back to the keep. "I used to be angry that I was barred from the knighthood, but now I'm glad! If I'd known that the knights were expected to be mindless pawns for the King, I wouldn't have wasted my time to begin with!"
"We are not mindless pawns," the captain barked back. "Watch your mouth, half-elf; your mother may be a noble but you and that elven bastard of a father-"
The captain didn't finish his threat. Yuan launched himself at the man, who barely managed to draw his blade and deflect the half-elf's attack. The entire troop drew their weapons, and Kratos' cries for everyone to calm down were drowned out in sound of battle.
Kratos managed to grab a weapon that had been dropped when its owner was struck with Yuan's axe; he couldn't see who had fallen, but he had to do his best to help his friend. Somewhere in the melee, he heard Martel cry out. Thinking the woman was being attacked as well, Kratos turned to where the sound came from, angry for the first time in this mess. His anger died to shock when he saw that she was not being assaulted; instead, strong streams of mana were emanating from Martel's body, the power of the magic blowing her tunic and hair wild. At her throat, that bauble that had been deemed worthless shone brighter than the daylight.
Then the magic abruptly flared outward. Kratos put an arm up to his face, expecting to be struck by it, but the mana soared harmlessly past him into the heart of the melee. There it exploded, and Kratos lost his footing and fell. He ignored a stabbing pain in his arm where he hit the ground, writing it off as insignificant immediately. Kratos turned his gaze to where the battle had been, but had been momentarily blinded by Martel's spell, or whatever that was. He blinked rapidly to clear his vision; when he could see again, the ground where the battle had been was scorched. Only Yuan remained, and he was unharmed. He stared in awe behind him, at Martel. Kratos twisted his body to see her as well, and she stared back at them, her face ashen and blank. The light emanating from that gem was slowly dying.
Martel opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. As the gem's light twinkled out, Martel dropped to the ground, unconscious.
