Author's note:
First thing first: To all those who wondered, yes I'm still alive, though crushed under schoolwork and other issues.
Second thing second: thanks for all reviews, they're much appreciated.
Third thing third: I guess I've some explaining to do, so here it comes:
-I apologize again for the spelling and grammar mistakes
-Don't ask what will happen next, just wait to see the next chapter (yeah I know I feel for you on this one, I don't want to want for the next chapter either xD)
-If you're wondering why I made Marcy 20 years old, just be aware that a certain upcoming scene might put a certain deva in trouble should I have made her 11 years old... actually it's just that an 11 years old kid being a deva doesn't make any friggin' sense in my opinion.
Alright now, enough blabbering, here's chapter 14, hope you enjoy!
Chapter 14: Ghost Ship in the Fog
El Nido sea, another world, 1020 A.D.
All four companions were silent in the boat as the wind curved the sail to carry them south toward Opassa beach and to Serge's home world where the water dragon supposedly resided. They all looked forward exploring the famous rain-forest covered island save for Kid who was still grumbling about how it was completely ridiculous and that dragons were nothing but a fantasy.
She had her face turned toward the sea and let out another sigh when she remembered about something. She removed one of her gloves to reveal her latest finding. The blue element glimmered ever so brightly in the sunlight. She took a moment to gaze at it with contentment.
"Oi, magi-boy, look what I found earlier. Now I can kick yer sorry arse to the moon even with all of yer fancy elements." Kid proudly displayed the bead so everyone could get a look at it.
"I have to admit I've never seen an element so bright. Where did you get it?" Leena asked, struck with awe.
Guile was nonchalantly making his way to Kid and her newfound treasure and stared at it without anymore amazement.
"Not bad… Now you can hand it over to me so no one gets killed." He said, extending an open palm.
"Oi, didja screw yur head the wrong way when you got up this morning, magi-boy? Finders keepers, plus I can't believe what a bloody egoistical arse yar sometimes. You already have loads in your collection and you want mine too?" Kid pouted, quickly putting her gloved hand back on it to protect her element.
"Fine then." Guile sighed, realizing he'd have some convincing to do.
"To answer your question this element you're holding is called Deluge. It is a very powerful storm element meant to attack multiple foes at a time. Just hand it to me so no accident happens." Guile offered.
"Oi, first of all I asked no answer of you, magi-boy, and second if you want it, just come and get it." Kid unsheated her dagger, dead-serious about keeping her element with Guile only staring at her and raising his brows.
"Fine. Have it your way then." With this the magician calmly walked back to his seat.
Leena waited for Kid to re-sheat her dagger and traveled over to Guile's seat and sat down next to him, expecting to get an explanation as to his warning.
"Uh, say what did you mean just then?"
"Hmm?" Guile turned his head to look at her, his mind coming back from a far-away trip once more.
"Oh, you mean about the power of the element?"
"Yeah, I've never seen one so bright before."
"It's because it contains much more energy than those of lower levels, you remember about element levels, right?"
"Uh, yeah, but What I wonder is why you were so worried about her using it, do you think she is that clumsy with elements, besides she's not a blue innate, so even if she uses it its effect will be weak won't it?"
"First of all, if you remember correctly I stated that level five and six elements are mass destruction weapons and half the strength of a mass destruction weapon is still a force to be reckoned with. But actually it's not about us that I worry it's about her."
"What? Why?" Leena asked, puzzled.
"Well, I highly doubt her aura contains enough energy to materialize the element, even using all of her vital energy, so that's why I'm mostly worried about her."
"Wow, now I don't understand a thing."
"Well, you see, to cast an element you need to materialize the energy inside. To do so you must temporarily imbue it with some of your own. This energy will come from your aura. The aura is made of two supplies, one is the vital amount of energy needed to maintain your aura. If it is depleted the aura fades and the person usually…dies. The rest is surplus energy that is gathered from the field and attaches to your aura. This is the energy first used when casting elements. A stronger aura acts like a stronger magnet and will attract more energy from the field allowing the caster to safely use stronger elements or use several weaker elements in a short lapse."
"So, what would happen if Kid tried to use the element…?" Leena was nervously grasping the pleats in her dress."
"You know, one thing is sure, seeing how stubborn she is, she will use it. In the best of cases her surplus energy will not be enough to trigger the element and nothing will happen. Now for the bad news, if she can trigger the element, it will draw all of her surplus and since it won't be enough to materialize the deluge it will start drawing energy from her vital supply until it has enough to materialize, probably to drain all of it."
"So that means Kid could…die?" Guile silently nodded.
"Oi, bugger, this conversation is getting so hot, when are you two leaving on a honeymoon?" Kid teased, inserting her head those of her friends, hands resting on her knees and grinning merrily.
Leena blushed profusely but Guile merely turned his head and closed his eyes rubbing the corners with his thumb and index.
"You know, normally I'd have been sorta angry with you for overhearing but since this could save your life you could almost say I'm glad you're awfully nosy."
"Hey, no worries, magi-boy, I know you don't get a chance to score so often so I'll just be very quiet now so you two can get some time alone." Leena blushed an even deeper red.
"Hey you guys, look what's waiting for us right ahead." Serge called out.
They all looked ahead and spotted a thick fog engulfing both the sea and the sky.
"That's strange… There's usually no fog around here… In fact, the only place in El Nido that sees fog is the Sea of Eden…" Leena whispered, then silently waiting for an answer.
"Could it be that we've drifted from our path?" Serge asked to the group.
Guile closed his eyes and extended his arms to the side, relaxing his fingers and breathing deeply.
"Oi, this ain't the time for a bloody sermon, magi-boy." But Guile paid no attention to Kid's comment and didn't re-open his eyes until he was done.
"We haven't drifted, I still feel the strong red-elemental energy emanating from the volcanoes on the main land."
"What's this thing ahead?" Serge asked, pointing to a blurry figure in the fog.
"Looks like a vessel to me." Guile answered.
"Could it be a…ghost ship?" Leena was shivering from the cold and the dreadful thought that had entered her mind.
"Oi, this ain't getting any better, first dragons, then ghosts. What's next? Aliens?"
Torn between fear and curiosity Serge could only watch as the wind was pushing their boat toward the massive vessel. Serge attached the small sail against the mast so their boat wouldn't be crushed against the ship but they eventually ended up right next to the vessel.
They all took some time to stare in awe at what looked like a shipwreck at first sight. No sign of life onboard, only an eerie silence coming to meet them.
"We…we should get away from here… my mom, she used to tell me stories of this ship, the Krumazy, it was a pirate ship. The crew, they used to plunder coastal villages of the main continent long ago. They were extremely cruel men, killing everyone in their path, often some who weren't even in their way. Eventually the king of Guardia was able to capture them and executed them, but the devil himself refused to greet them. So they continued to roam the seas as ghosts, now unable to quench their lust for gold and blood." Leena was nervously rubbing her left hand over her right fist and looking at the wooden planks of their boat.
"Girl, I have only one thing to say…" Kid fiercely said.
"I bloody hope this is some pirate ship! There's bound to be some treasure up there." She added, preparing to board the ship with a hook tied to a rope.
"…And as for those inexistent ghosts, you have your knight in his shining magi-clothes to protect you." With that Kid pulled on the rope to make sure it had properly gripped the ship and swung her legs over the rope.
Leena hesitantly looked at her other two companions only to see Serge walking to the rope.
"Guess we don't really have a choice after all, no point arguing with cap'n Kid when there's treasure ahead, mateys."
A few minutes later they were both on the vessel. Only the wind blowing against the sails and the waves breaking against the ship could be heard. Kid looked around and turned to look at Serge.
"So, enjoyed the view while you were climbing, mate?"
Serge blushed profusely and looked away once more.
"Oi, don't worry, I know you looked away, cuz otherwise I'd have made you walk the plank." Kid said, cheerfully slapping Serge's back and pointing to a device that had once served as a mean of entertaining the crew and feeding the sharks.
"You know, I'd really like it if you quit being such a tease sometimes…"
"So you mean you didn't enjoy your view?" Kid gave him a fake disappointed look.
"One of these days I'm gonna believe yur more interested in guys." She said, reverting to a cheerful smile.
"Oh, god…" Serge sighed.
"Shiver me timbers cap'n Kid, that quite a treasure you have, an old rotten ship with absolutely no gold or jewels at all." Guile mocked.
"Oi, yur gonna swim with the sharks this time, magi-boy." Kid violently unsheated her dagger.
"How dare you call our ship rotten, you scum of the sea?"
Their hearts all skipped a beat upon hearing this voice which belonged to none of them. A large man wearing a bandana and wielding a sabre walked toward them quickly followed by several equally brutal-looking men. Serge and his friends soon found themselves surrounded.
"Aye, usually you have to go to da plunder, but this time it came to us by itself, That's how it should be." One of them roared.
"Such fine company." A tall and lanky one said, carefully sliding his blade against Leena's neck and enjoying the scent of her hair.
"Aye, don't ye be touching ma fine dish with yer filthy hands."
"Don't worry, ye can have the left-overs when I'm done with her." The lanky man answered, letting out a malicious laughter.
"In this case I'll be taking the blonde one, get the other two on the plank…" The large man turned to Serge and Guile.
"Aye, we don't have anything against you, but the sharks'll enjoy you guys much more than us."
Six pirates got between Serge and the girls and the teenager carefully picked his swallow from his back as Guile prepared his wand.
"What're ya gonna do with this boy? Help mommy cut veggies. You should use a plastic knife instead so yur not gonna hurt yourself, matey." The pirate mocked.
...wouldn't wanna get hurt, baby-boy… building sand castles… care to run back to mommy… not to afraid of the dark, kiddo… what's with the baby-sitter…?... This ain't kindergarten, y'know…
Serge gritted his teeth and forcefully thrusted his swallow at the fat man. His opponent barely had the time to deflect the attack with his sabre and gave Serge a mocking grimace.
"Make way for cap'n Fargo." A loud voice rang.
They all turned to see a tall, muscular man walk toward them. He was dressed in black leather pants and vest and wore a massive bracelet on each wrist. A sharp sabre fell along his left leg ready for whoever would be foolish enough to challenge such a powerful-looking opponent. A tattoo of a snake had been drawn on his shoulder. His black hair was tied behind his head and a thick moustache covered his upper lip. A fuming cigar hung from the corner of his mouth and a red scarf rested around his strong neck.
With only the sound of his footsteps to oppose the sound of the waves crashing against the ship the man walked toward Serge with a disarming calmness. He stopped a few feet from Serge and motioned his head from left to right to observe the four intruders.
"Aye, three brats and a… well the blue-dragon-knows-what…" He said, taking his cigar from his mouth to enjoy exhaling a thick cloud of smoke once turning away from them.
"Oi, who're ya calling a brat, captain faggot?" Kid blurted out, rapidly unsheating her dagger.
Much to Kid's surprise the pirate leader didn't burst with anger, in fact he didn't even make a move for his sabre. Unable to explain such an absence of reaction Kid abruptly stopped only to see him slowly rotate his head to look at her with one eye.
"Aye, fine, a brat, a weirdo and two damsels in distress… but I was expecting better from that foul dog of Viper." Fargo said, replacing his cigar in his mouth and returning his eyes to the sea.
"We're not Viper's henchmen." Serge said in a tone of defiance.
"Really?" The captain's remark showed a total distrust.
"Then why would ye risk yer lives comin' ere?" He then asked, making it clear he wouldn't believe Serge's explanation anyway.
"That's none of your business, pirate." Came Serge's flat answer.
"is that so, matey? Then yer fate isn't of ma business either. Gentlemen, ye may begin ta entertain yerselves." He added, taking his leave.
The whole crew roared in apprehension and Serge quickly stepped forward to correct his mistake.
"I'm after that demi-human, Lynx" All went silent.
"…Well tha's even better, matey. Yer after ta devil."
"So, you know him?"
"Take a look 'round ye, matey, ain't a man 'ere that hasn't walked through hell."
"Yeah, I guess, but you didn't answer my question."
"I've heard of him, but if you ye truly wish ta die, I'll just make ye walk teh plank, matey, much more sensible wish."
"No one's gonna die, except maybe you if you don't call it quits with the arrogance, pirate." Guile interrupted.
"So ta Punchinello can talk, eh?"
"He can also send you to the bottom of the ocean."
"Hmm… I wonder how serious he is about that." The captain said, crossing his arms over his massive chest.
"Dead serious" Guile replied, tightly gripping his wand.
"Not ye, I was referring to da boy looking for teh devil." The captain's pupils glided to the corner of his eyes so he would be staring at Serge.
Serge didn't reply but clenched his teeth as he stared back at the pirate leader.
"Aye, I see, fierce determination… I like that, lad!"
"So, you're releasing us or what?" Serge asked, placing his left hand on his swallow to direct the blade at the pirate.
"Aye, ye certainly won't make it through that fiend if ye can't beat me, matey, so how 'bout it?" Serge frowned, not certain to understand the pirate's suggestion.
Up to this day Serge had faced many warriors and they all shared one characteristic that certainly annoyed Serge, they all looked down on him. And here, strangely enough, this pirate, who should have been the brashest of all, extended his hand out to him, in a way.
"Care ta tryout for teh clan of men, lad?" The captain exhaled some smoke.
"Fine. If I win, you free us right away."
"An' what if I win, matey?"
"You'll do whatever ye want with us."
The captain's eyes widened, surprised by Serge's boldness. Kid's reaction was also noticeable.
"Oi, what are you…" She took a step forward but was denied access to Serge by Guile who extended his arm to put his wand between her and the young man. She immediately turned her head to the magician and revealed gritted teeth. Guile's reaction to this threat was barely a side glance, making it clear to her this was Serge's fight and no one else's.
"Deal." Serge said in a low voice and walked to the captain.
The crew moved to form a large circle around the two fighters which would act as an arena. Guile, Kid and Leena all opted for a spot right between the contestants so they would get a clear view of the events.
"Do you really think he can win this fight?" Leena whispered close to Guile's ear.
"Frankly, I have no idea." Was Guile's flat answer.
"What?" Leena's fist clenched and came to her mouth in a reflex of fear for her friend.
"My idea, you see, is that this pirate was right: if he can't defeat the seadog he won't stand a chance against Lynx."
Leena half-heartedly acknowledged that Guile was right but the other part of her mind was worried sick about what would happen should Serge lose the fight.
The captain first engaged the fight by charging at Serge and raising his sword to bring it down in a vertical arc. The blow was powerful and speedy but Serge was able to sidestep out of harm's way. An average fighter would have been left open for a horizontal spinning cut but the captain managed to get his sword up back again to deflect Serge's first offensive move.
Fargo then trusted several times at Serge who had no choice but to take a step back with each attack. Fargo closed the distance between them way too quickly to Serge's liking. Only a few feet now separated him from the circle formed by the rest of the pirates.
Fargo was probably the most experienced opponent Serge had faced so far. Physically he was very strong and his speed wasn't something to neglect either. His moves were also quite accurate. In other words, Serge had to find a way to put a stop to Fargo's offensive otherwise, sooner or later, he would end up slaughtered. An efficient way to keep an opponent from attacking is to attack yourself, the teenager thought.
Serge spun right foot and raised his swallow while his body stood between his weapon and Fargo and brought it down in an oblique slash. Even though Fargo had fought countless people in his life it was the first time he faced someone who used a swallow. He didn't know for sure what kind of moves to expect but the whirl indicated a fast and powerful blow so he opted to step back to avoid the attack. Serge immediately followed with the exact same move, resulting in the pirate stepping back again.
Eager to force the captain further back Serge used the movement two more times with success but on the fifth attempt the pirate had noticed the flaw in this move. Instead of stepping back his threw himself forward and to the side. Serge's weapon flew a few inches above Fargo' head as he swung his sword horizontally to tear both Serge's shorts and the skin of his thigh.
Luckily for him the pirate rarely had to execute this move in the past and his attempt resulted in a simple flesh cut but a small trail of blood reached Serge's sock. Fargo rolled to get back up but was taken by surprise as he was forced to rear lunge in order to deflect Serge's next slash. He was left open for three more slashes before he was able to get back in a steady stance. It appeared he had underestimated the teenager and Fargo cursed himself for having been so reckless. The swallow appeared as an odd weapon but considering the size of the blades, someone wielding it was not to be messed with, even if this person was still a kid.
Both fighters took a pause and slowly circled around each other, preparing a strategy for the next part. Fargo was as calm as ever, exhaling smoke from the corner of his mouth. Even though each portion of air he breathed was tainted by this smoke the pirate's lungs gave no sign of fatigue yet, no panting and no coughing either.
The adrenaline rush in Serge's body had faded and his breathing was now fast but steady. Fargo appeared to be as skilled as Karsh only this time it was one on one. Surely he had improved since then but would this be enough?
Serge's pondering was cut short when Fargo's blade came crashing against one of Serge's weapon. Here was a thing that probably made Fargo superior to Karsh: he wasn't mad of anger. His mind appeared to be as peaceful as it can be. The pirate swiftly delivered four additional slashes, all aimed at Serge's chest. Serge was finally able to get an opening after the last slash and brought of one of his swallow's blades upward in an arch while maintaining the other close to him.
Fargo quickly brought his sword down to block the attack before the movement acquired strength though momentum. Serge smiled as he realized the pirate had made his first mistake. The teenager immediately swung the other blade toward his opponent and was able to land a first cut in Fargo's shoulder. The captain recoiled in pain and grasped his wound. He slowly moved his hand away from his injury and observed blood trickle to the ground.
Fargo shook his limber and grunted to chase the pain away and resumed his fighting stance. The pirate took narrowed his eyes as if refocusing and charged at Serge again. Serge raised a blade to deflect the vertical downward slash and swung his weapon to the left to block Fargo's crescent kick with the shaft.
The next offence came too quickly for Serge and he was forced off balance to avoid the pirate's thrust. Fargo seized this opportunity and landed a mighty right hook on Serge's jaw which sent the boy several steps backwards. A sharp pain radiated in all of his head and he brought a hand to his cheek and examined the wounded area as he was left panting.
Even though the force of the impact had been considerable all bones still seemed intact. Still the inside of his mouth was beginning to fill with blood as Fargo's punch had severed many small blood vessels and tore some skin against his teeth. Serge coughed as blood spurted from his lips.
"Don't worry matey, I'm not angry at you for dirtying my ship." Fargo said emotionlessly, only observing Serge recovering with difficulty.
…Is that all you are capable of, arbiter…? I am utterly disappointed… I was expecting more determination from the one I am seeking…
…That voice…again…
Serge clenched his jaws through severe pain and raised his chin to look at his opponent.
"You haven't seen the last of me, pirate." Serge said before running at Fargo.
Serge aimed a diagonal slash at the pirate's right shoulder but Fargo was able to get out of range in time. The teenager rapidly brought the other blade up but this time the captain didn't fall for it. Instead of trying to block the move he simply moved away from Serge once more. Serge used the momentum of this second move to launch a fierce roundhouse kick which landed right in Fargo's stomach.
The pirate lost his breath and his cigar at the same time. Serge took a second to admire his work, finally he had been able to shake his opponent. Fargo was left out of breath and had to pause for a moment before he could stand up straight again. Upon regaining his composure the pirate realized his lips weren't clenched on his usual cigar anymore. He slowly looked down and spotted his prized possession.
"Aye boy, I 'ave seen blood on this deck, but ma cigar, that hasn't happened often." Fargo said, using his sabre to pick the object from the floor and examining it.
"Well, guess I'd better quit messin' around an' be serious. Here I come."
Fargo quickly discarded the cigar and rushed at Serge with renewed energy as his lungs were now free from the intoxicating smoke. Fargo's assaults were now faster, more powerful and less time elapsed between blows as he his recovery time had been shortened.
Serge couldn't see any pattern in his opponent's moves and yet they were coming fast and some seemed to come back every so often. Serge managed to deflect most blows but some were able to make it past his weapon and reached his flesh in order to cut it open. Luckily Fargo hadn't been able to land any deep cut so far but with the number of attacks and Serge's total inability to counter the odds were that sooner or later he would be in trouble.
There were now numerous cuts on Serge's arms and body and still he showed no sign of giving up. Adrenaline literally kept pain from surging through his body and allowed him to continue, but for how long…?
There was always a chance if he could use an element, but that would require a bit of time and that meant putting some space between him and Fargo. So far the captain had ensured to keep that space to a minimum, suggesting he wasn't skilled with elements. There was also the fact that not a single element bead could be spotted on him nor his weapon.
Serge had finally found a ray of hope but the price of that distraction happened to be higher than he would have thought. Fargo found himself a nice opening between the blades of his swallow and lodged another fierce punch. This one connected with Serge's sternum and the teenager's frail body bent forward as air was forced out if his lungs. This time Fargo gave him no time to recover and sent him flying backwards with a mighty upward kick.
Serge landed hard on his back and felt the impact in every bit of his body. He gritted his teeth and forced himself kneeling through much pain. In the circle that formed the arena Guile clenched his jaws and looked at the deck.
"Come on, boy, get up, how are you going to face Lynx if you get your ass kicked by a mere pirate?" He whispered to himself.
Fargo was slowly approaching a severely injured Serge with a cold emotionless expression on his visage. Serge squeezed the shaft of his weapon with all his might. He wasn't sure of Fargo's innate element but this was his only chance. The pain made it hard to focus but he was able to release the energy from a glowing red bead.
The pirate was engulfed in a cloud of boiling lava and Serge was able to get up again, his body being surged by renewed strength. The effect on the element was starting to wear off and Serge was eager to see the result of his attack. The image of the captain protecting his face with his forearms formed a couple of feet away from him.
Serge's opponent carefully lowered his shield and took a look at the burns the element had left on his flesh. He shook off the pain with a mighty roar and charged at Serge but there was still no trace of anger in his mind.
"Not bad, lad, ye managed to deal some damage even though I had a shield active."
"Damn, a shield…" Serge cursed himself for not having expected that.
The lengthening battle was slowly turning to Serge's advantage. Fargo's heavy muscles allowed for tremendous power but they also caused him to fatigue faster. He was trying to put an end to this fight and it showed. He was literally using the last on his strength on devastating moves. Even though Serge was able to block the sabre with his swallow the impact of the attacks was forcing him backwards.
The pirate was able to land a powerful kick on Serge's knee which forced him to kneel. Fargo immediately swung his sword in an oblique arc aimed straight at Serge's head. The teenager bobbed his limb and pulled out with a slashed cheek but was able to get up and get out of Fargo's range for a while, just enough time to recover.
Fargo's next attack came without warning. He brutally swung his sword four times and struck home thrice, leaving three gashes on Serge's left arm. The teenager's limb was covered in blood, both dried and fresh. Fargo quickly followed by a mighty uppercut which sent Serge to the ground, his swallow landing on the deck, away from his body.
"Well, lad, a gotta admit not so many made it this far, but this is the end…" Fargo, was resting his hands on his knees, recovering before a final assault.
Serge's vision was getting blurry and he had trouble hearing all the people screaming around him. His eyes closed and his mind faded to black.
He found himself in a strange place. Everything was made from metal. He looked down and saw several wires making their way to a huge pedestal on which stood an enormous orange glass sphere. All the wires connected to the sphere and odd noises emitted from the device. Serge looked around…clearly he was alone in this room. He approached the device, captivated by the object… he was persuaded he had seen it before, but where?
Serge's mind was racing, desperate for answers. Where was he? Why was he here? What happened to Fargo and the pirates? All those objects, they were just so… strange. There were no such things in El Nido… but then where could he be? Or maybe when could they be?
"Could I have…traveled through time…?" Serge whispered, remembering how he had traveled across dimensions through the worm hole on Opassa beach.
"Kid! Guile! Leena!" He screamed desperately, but no answer came.
"Damn, where have I landed this time?" He struck the pedestal with all his might but the device didn't even flinch.
"Oh, la la Serge, no need for zuch colère. Calm down, pleaze."
Serge automatically turned to see the jester he had encountered before and his fists clenched in anger.
"You, get me outta here, now!" He screamed, raising a fist in threat.
"Oh, la la I'm afraid I can't mon Serge, only you can do zis…"
Serge charged at Harle but stopped abruptly when his body passed through the harlequin. He turned around and realized that she was now gone and he was alone again.
"So it finally happened, arbiter, it appears you are about to fall."
Serge raised his eyes and saw a mocking smile spread on the lips of a feline demi-human.
"Lynx…"
"So, what do you think? This is the source of your troubles, arbiter." Lynx said, referring to the glass sphere.
"You…" Serge glanced at the device again and then at the demi-human.
"I certainly wish I could end this right now, arbiter, but alas I cannot, otherwise the transfer could not be made. Let's see, how will I bring you back to the other side without killing you?"
Serge felt a cold chill running down his back. No matter how much he wanted to kill the demi-human he couldn't help but be terrorized when staring at this embodiment of evil. A strange aura of destruction emanated from the dark being.
Serge raised his arms in defence, bracing himself for whatever Lynx had in store for him. Serge saw the demi-human flinch and swung his fist but he was too late: Lynx had caught his fist and held it in place with his iron grip as he brought his face close to Serge's.
"Let anger guide you through every obstacle…" He whispered, placing a small object in Serge's hand and driving his sharp fangs in the smooth flesh of Serge's neck.
Serge screamed in pain and felt a violent wave shaking up his body. His eyes opened only to see Fargo looming over him, his sabre raised to put a definite end to their confrontation.
Turning her head away and closing her eyes, Leena knew she couldn't stand seeing her friend die in front of her. Guile and Kid had their jaws clenched, apprehending the outcome of the fight.
Serge's only reflex was to clench his fist. Realizing he was actually squeezing an object, the teenager was shocked to see fierce lightning bolts surging from his fist and hitting Fargo's weapon. Racing through the metal weapon the electricity pierced through the elemental shield and paralyzed Fargo's body, leaving the captain screaming in uncontrollable agony.
The teenager seized the opportunity and made a run for his weapon. He wasted no time and plunged the blade through Fargo's body, the wooden handles on his swallow protecting him from the powerful yellow element. He quickly pulled out the blade to place a strong kick to the injured spot, sending Fargo to the ground.
Fargo got on his knees and placed a hand on his injured stomach and realized he had been seriously wounded, pain still paralyzing his mid-section. He looked up to see Serge breathing with difficulty, barely able to remain standing, his young body covered in blood. Fargo grunted in pain as his body refused to launch another attack.
"Aye… ye, ye win lad…" Fargo said, panting and coughing.
"It was supposed to be a fight to death, wasn't it? Why should I spare you while you would have finished me when you had the chance?" Serge managed to raise his weapon but felt a hand on his shoulder.
He turned to see Guile showing him a proud smile for a second but quickly reverting to a calm expression, suggesting it would be best to spare the pirate. Serge lowered his weapon, still staring directly at Fargo.
Serge then felt a tingling sensation in his left shoulder and quickly found himself unable to bear his own weight. His body dropped to the ground like a corpse.
--
El Nido sea, home world, 1020 A.D.
Lynx sat silently in front of a luxurious wooden table aboard the Grand Salamander, also known as Viper's imperial ship. The ever-silent room's was under the frail light of four torches that hung from the walls. Against two of the walls was a red velvet couch. On one of the couches sat an amphibian demi-human whose neck rapidly inflated and deflated with every breath he took. Leaning against the closest armrest was the warrior's most-prized possession, a magnificent katana forged by his ancestors in the rare material known as denadorite. Not so far from him were a bull demi-human and a bird demi-human playing a game of chess.
A fish demi-human was resting on the other couch, his eyes closed but not asleep, his right hand covering his face and the other hanging from the piece of furniture to rest on the deck. Finally, a goat demi-human gazed at the dead calm sea.
In the very middle of the room was the one they all obeyed without questioning. Under his eyes was a glass pyramid in which a strange half-gas, half-liquid substance was giving birth to grotesque images.
All who took a look at those forms could swear this was nothing but a futuristic child toy, except for one particular individual. This individual had dedicated three years of his life to the art of the arcanes, the very individual who sat right by the pyramid. In Lynx's mind the swirling substance formed shapes that revealed him forbidden secrets of the past, the present… and even some of the future.
All of the other demi-humans were quite nosy when it came to Lynx's rituals, but none dared say a word, barely they glanced from the corner of their eye every now and then, as they knew their leader didn't appreciate disturbances while he was meditating upon the demenor.
At this very moment Lynx's eyes narrowed as his mind tried to focus harder than ever. Forcing life to reveal its secrets was no easy task but and the feline demi-human wasn't holding the bigger end of the stick when facing the glass pyramid, but no matter he pushed himself to the point of exhaustion for he knew he had passed the first test, he was able to read through the elemental swirl.
For now he was barely able to catch glimpse of trivial moments but in time this ability could make the difference between success and failure. Lynx clenched his fists on the able as his mind was engaging in an ultimate effort to extirpate information from the demenor.
The image before him was foggy was fascinating, at least when it came to Lynx. It wasn't a simple image of a young boy, the substance was about to open itself on a vision of an event that took place several years ago.
Lynx's mind was reaching its limit, but the demi-human wouldn't let go: he had to succeed to time. Sweat was now forming on Lynx's forehead, his breathing was abnormally slow as some of his brain functions were still battling to avoid the trance. The demi-human was fighting against himself to deny his mortality, and for an instant delve into the kingdom of those who would see eternity.
"Seeking immortality…"
Lynx's concentration was brutally broken and his mind was shocked for a moment as he was coming back from a distance that approximated half-way between the mortal realm and the garden of the gods.
His body was weak, literally exhausted from his training. He slowly opened his eyes to the harlequin who stood before him. He did not speak a word, still breathing with difficulty, frowning at the jester with much seriousness.
"It appears you have made progress, non?"
"…I believe so." Lynx had finally regained his composure and rested his forearms on the table, not lowering his gaze.
"Leave." One could have sworn the demi-human had spoken to a ghost but all other demi-human calmly got up and went through the door, leaving Lynx and Harle alone in the dimly-lit room.
Harle had made her way to one of the windows that allowed passengers to gaze at the sea while Lynx's guests were leaving. Lynx rose and proceeded to put his cloak back on but stopped half-way through the gesture.
"Quite hard, iz it, to break ze prophet's secret, non?"
"…Yes, but unlike him I haven't had an eternity to do so."
"It appearz you have challenged Clotho…Zis means you can rival with Lachesis, non? But Clotho is much more prudente, monsieur Lynx: she only reveals her ways to those who have broken the pattern…et Atrapos, zhere iz no way, only surviving ze end will do it…"
Lynx quietly listened to Harle's monologue about the deities of fate and repressed his anger as he knew she was right. Harle, just like the prophet, had seen through the end. She was able to read through most mortals' end. There were very few things that irritated the demi-human, even fewer he couldn't control and this very evidence displayed both characteristics.
"It is true, Harle, that you possess talents I might never equal but do not worry, for I am like nature itself, I will find a way, even through the end of the world, to survive and force destiny to hear my voice."
Harle lowered her gaze. Such was the demi-human's blessing, in a way. He certainly didn't have the favors of the gods nor those of men but somehow he managed to deal with his own weaknesses to crush them and extract those of others to bend them to his will.
"Ah, but, je ne vais pas vous empêcher. If it is what you truly seek, zhen, face Atropos… and ze consequences."
"Challenging a goddess is not a feat that must be taken lightly that I know of Harle. However, no matter what the appearances might be, I will not defy Atropos…"
Harle's eyes narrowed, unsure of the meaning of the demi-human's words.
"I do not need to foresee the future Harle, as I can influence it."
"Je crois… It iz not ze future but destiny zat you wish to change, Monsieur Lynx."
"You are clever Harle but changing the future of a million men sometimes sums up to changing that of a single man."
"True but zhere are otherz who are beginning to see ze light, non?"
"I admit… she has the blessing but unfortunately for them, she was too late."
"But you had not planned zis, Monsieur Lynx." Lynx chuckled as he lowered his gaze for a moment.
The demi-human slowly walked toward the jester, hands behind his back, absolutely not fearing exposing his body to the powers of the harlequin.
"Harle, you tend to forget why you became involved in this plan in the first place, don't you."
"Do not be mistaken, Monsieur Lynx, ze end does not justifies ze means, at least not for moi."
"But this end is the only acceptable end for your cause, so we are tied by the wrists until we both meet this end."
A conversation with the feline demi-human was something Harle abhorred, especially when is turned out to his advantage.
"He is coming."
"Yes, that I do know of." Lynx replied, a mocking smile on his lips
"And he will get Ayergomoth's blessing…"
Lynx remained quiet and immediately began weighing the consequences of those words as Harle turned to leave.
--
El Nido sea, another world, 1020 A.D.
"Look! I think he's coming back to his senses." Serge's first blurry vision was a strange mix of light brown and yellow with two moving blue spots.
Instinctively the boy reached with his hand to compensate for his lack of eyesight at the moment
"Oi, mate, that's not exactly my idea of a gentleman, y'know."
Serge sat up bolt right, violently shook his head but quickly re-coiled as a terrible headache tore through his mind like a lightning bolt.
"Looks like you'll have to take it easy for a while. I used a healing element on you but that jelly-fish venom was rather nasty." Leena came to sit next to him and placed a hand on his forehead to ensure that he didn't have any fever.
"The only thing that increases his body temperature is the fact that Sergei here likes to get his dirty hands where he shouldn't." Kid replied, crossing her arms over her chest.
Serge quickly took a look at his right palm the very same way a parent would have looked upon a child he simply couldn't believe was guilty of misbehaving. He then turned his head to look at a chuckling Guile shaking his head.
"Don't worry, boy, you only poked at her eyes."
"Sheesh, magi-boy, why do you always have to ruin my fun?" Kid's smile immediately faded to a sad frown.
"Well, it is an excellent way for me to have fun."
"Damn pirates, why did you stop me Guile? I knew they couldn't be trusted." Serge still fought against a sharp pain in his head."
"Well, even god-like figures like me make mistakes sometimes."
"Wow… such modesty, you even admitted you can make mistakes."
As the scene was obviously turning to a dispute they all turned too the door as they heard the knob turning. The door slowly opened a few inches but not enough to reveal their liberator. Serge rapidly reached for his weapon but realized it had been taken from him. He then got up and raised his fists in defence even though he had pretty much no experience in fist fighting.
They all got ready for whatever would come through the door but none would have expected to see a bony hand covered with rotting tendons and ligaments gripping the wooden door.
"Eeeeeeek!" Leena let out a shriek as Serge's and Kid's face showed a mix of horror and disgust. Only Guile appeared to be keeping some sort of composure.
Guile's reaction was to get in front on the three teenagers to act as a shield. It was only then he realized his weapon had been taken away from him, but he was the type of magician who could pull out a bunny out a hat even without the garment at his disposal.
Guile clenched a fist in front of him, closed his eyes, took a deep breath a waited for his opponent to show himself. The undead creature eventually pushed the door open and revealed itself. The skeleton stared at the magician through empty sockets, tightly gripping a rusty blade that would normally have proved deadly against an unarmed opponent such as Guile was now.
The revenant's jaw dropped slightly in a crackling noise as it raised its weapon, preparing to strike. It charged at Guile with an unholy battle cry which was quickly replaced by a scream of agony as a ball of pure holy light fired from Guile's now open hand. The white element easily tore through the skeleton reducing the areas directly hit to dust and scattering the rest through the small room.
Serge slowly walked up to Guile, still unable to believe his eyes. He looked around for a moment, forced to realize those bones were damn real and he wasn't in some sort of nightmare.
"This is not an effect of the jelly-fish poison they injected us, this fellow was real, we need to get out of here, quick!" Guile turned to the girls.
Guile rapidly led the group into the hallway and through the stairs onto the main deck. Around them several pirates were fighting against an army of skeletons. Not too far from the pirate ship was another ship. It appeared extremely old, its structure was rotting, the sails were nothing but shreds barely hanging to the masts. Considering the state of the ship Serge had a hard time understanding how this thing could remain afloat.
Uncertain of what to do Serge's first idea was to get back on their boat and get away from this nightmare as fast as possible but two skeletons blocked their path, threatening to send them to the bottom of the sea with their blades. The teenager turned around, hoping Guile could pull off his previous trick once more but the magician was already busy with two ghostly opponents that proved quite a nuisance with their long arms ending in sharp claws.
Serge then heard a strong noise of impact and saw each skeleton being pierced by a sabre and then hurled overboard.
"Not the time ta be day-dreamin', lad. Get to the wheel!" Fargo screamed, turning around to deflect the assault of another undead.
"But.. I-I don't know how to…"
"So yer expecting me to operate the ship and deal with those at the same time while ye wobble yer mollusc ass 'round? Get up there and just turn it 'til the front of the ship is facing their side. I'll order me men to pull the anchor and we'll spur them."
Serge looked at Kid for a second and followed her to the wheel. The two of them quickly managed to get the massive wheel moving. Serge was simply amazed at how such little effort could lead to such a strong effect. The vessel rapidly turned around to directly face the ghost ship, its spur pointing at its opponent's flank.
"Well done, lad. Now, pull the anchor."
Four of Fargo's men used all their might rotating the anchor's lever to get the heavy steel mass away from the bottom of the sea. A loud creaking noise was heard as the current and wind's pressure was taken off from the ship to be turned into movement, driving the pirate ship through the ghost ship.
Water quickly poured into the hold to allow the sea to engulf its prey. Re-energized by a now certain victory the pirate crew had no trouble fending off the remaining scum. A roar of pride was heard as the ship in shambles disappeared below the surface.
Still behind the wheel Serge's heart was still racing, his mind overwhelmed by the recent events. After a while his brain calmed down and he looked around, expecting Kid's reaction through a friendly but mighty pat in the back but the gesture never came. All he saw was a troubled Kid, staring straight ahead, as if mesmerized by the song of a siren.
"Hey, You alright, Kid?" He asked, waving in front of her.
"Oi, uh, yeah, of course, I'm alright, mate." She answered, half-lying, still having trouble to put up with what just happened.
Serge then heard massive footsteps coming toward them, signalling someone heavy was climbing the stairs that led to the wheel. The boy soon saw Fargo's face appear, followed by his body. Fargo walked up to him and both males stared at each other for a moment. Facing the captain unarmed Serge then realized he was at the pirate's mercy. Dread spread through his mind as the older man's brows formed a frown. He slowly raised his arms in defence as the pirate's muscular limbs reached toward him to seize him by the shoulders.
"Aye, that was one hell of a spurring, lad."
As the fear that kept his body rigid was drained away, Serge's body became so weak for a moment that Kid's pat almost knocked him to the ground.
"Aye, I was about to ask to join me crew but seein' how you get knocked out by a girly punch, I think I'll wait till you toughen up a bit, lad." The captain joked.
"Oi, what are you calling a girly punch?" Kid teasingly replied.
"Ha, I like lasses with guts. Now, all of you, come with me. I got something I wanna show you." Fargo announced, descending to the lower deck once more.
Once halfway between the main masts, Fargo abruptly stopped and turned to face the sea at the exact location where the ghost ship had sunk.
"Do ye have any idea what that was jus' then, lad?"
"Uh, some…ghost-ship I'd say." Serge answered, still having trouble to believe he had sunk an undead vessel.
"A ghost ship? A fucking ghost ship, ye say?" Serge wasn't sure if the pirate's voice held fury or bliss.
"Lad, that wasn't just a ghost ship. That was cap'n Morgan "tripleye" Mcmanderer's vessel. He was once teh most dreaded man on earth while alive."
"But he's not alive anymore, is he" Serge timidly asked.
"Hell, no. Two hundred years ago king Guardia XVIII's kingdom was regularly plundered by tripleye's sharks… Well, plundered would be an understatement: the man litteraly massacred every village he came across, grabbing everything with a monetary value and burning the rest."
"Those pirates… how horrible…" Leena interrupted.
"Watch yer mouth, lass, yer in front of a pirate." Fargo nonchalantly scolded her before continuing his tale.
"Unable te endure the gore anymore, the king dispatched spies to learn Morgan's whereabouts and goals so as to set a trap fer him. The king ordered to spread a rumor that the harvest of next year's taxes would be traveling through the village of Dorino. Morgan couldn't resist. The simple idea of getting his hands on the king's property set him on fire. He sent his men after the loot, but instead of teh treasure, they were greeted by the king's army." Fargo paused for a moment, as if troubled by his own story.
"They captured all of teh crew and sentenced them to death. They chained every one of them on their ship and set fire to teh vessel as it slowly sailed away, pushed by teh current. Cruel death if ye ask me, but there were some who claimed the king had still been too merciful. They resorted to teh help of a wizard-warlock, I'm not sure, who bestowed a curse on the crew. In teh night, teh ship abruptly stopped burning, but still floating away, the consuming corpses turning into servants of the reaper. Their souls would be tortured endlessly until their ship was at the very bottom of teh sea."
"Oi, why didn't they just sink their own ship, bloody idiots?" Kid brashly cut off the pirate.
"Fer a pirate, there's no worse betrayal." The pirate snapped back, but managing to keep his temper in check.
"Fer the last two hundred years they've frothed the seas and oceans, spreading destruction but enduring ten times the pain they caused around them. I was but a young cabin boy when a first heard of Morgan's story. Old cap'n "dogear" once told me how he had caught sight of a derelict ship that seemed to hover above the sea one foggy night. I was fascinated by his tale, but to think I'd live to send the most dreadful crew of the seas returned as foul rotting undeads to teh bottom o' the sea, ye've rocked the soul of an old seadog like no storm could have, lad."
While Serge and Leena had been listening to Fargo's story with an attentive ear, Guile had been studying the sea and the sky for hints of the future weather and Kid had been turning her head frantically in every direction, taking absolutely no interest in the pirate's story and desperately seeking something worthy of her attention.
"Oi, shouldn't there be some bounty on this ship. How about we dive to weigh down our pockets?" Kid asked, disappointed to realize that so far pirate hadn't necessarily meant treasure.
"How 'r ya gonna make it back ta the surface then, lass?" Fargo replied, experience and wisdom of the sea echoing through the embarrassing question.
"Oi, uh, you'll be surprised how good of a swimmer I can be, pirate." Kid snapped back, taking offense at the pirate's lack of respect for her treasure-hunting skills.
Fargo took his cigar out of his mouth to let out a good-hearted chuckle as well some rings of smoke.
"I'll spare you teh trouble, lad. Morgan's treasure isn't on his ship. Ye see, like every good pirate, they used to grab the loot and hide it somewhere safe they could return to in case their ship was sunk. But if yur serious about finding teh bounty, then ye'll have to search the whole world over 'cuz I don't have a damn clue as to where it is, but still I let you have this." Fargo gestured for another pirate to come closer and he whispered something in his subordinate's ear.
The pirate nodded and walked toward to the stairs that led into the lower parts of the vessel.
"First, yer free, all of ye." At this very moment Kid felt a pulsing desire to unsheathe her dagger to let it explain to the pirate she had never once considered herself his prisoner.
"Second, I'm giving yer weapons back, yer worthy of wielding them." With this Kid's hand went to her waist, realizing her previous idea would have proved difficult to carry out and silently cursing the captain.
"Third, there's somet'ing I want ye ta have." The captain turned his body to grab a wooden chest brought back by the pirate who had just returned from the cellar.
Fargo opened the chest and gestured for Serge to come closer. Serge leaned over to get a closer look at what seemed to be brown rocks. He raised his head to look at the pirate with a puzzled look.
"Not familiar with a see. Tis lad is denadorite. Tis extremely rare and comes from teh Yellow Dragon's island caves. A can't do much with I meself but if ye can find a good blacksmith e'll be able ta forge ye one hell of a weapon. Tis light but insanely resistant." Fargo presented Serge with the chest.
The teenager gladly took the gift nodding in thanks and the captain nodded back in welcome.
"Arr, Ah almost fergot, lad, if ye wanna face teh devil, this should come in handy." The pirate reached inside his vest and showed Serge a glowing red bead.
"Tis a strengthen element. Ye won't find it in shops. Tis baby literally enhances the blood flow to yer muscles and makes ye stronger and faster, but only fer a short time, so give it all ye got, lad."
Serge accepted the second gift and socketed it in his retrieved weapon, eager to see what it could muster in terms of enhancement.
"Arr, well, time te part now, matey, may teh Water dragon watch over you." With this the pirate extended his forearm at a forty-five degree angle, suggesting a true handshake of friendship.
Serge confidently accepted the captain's departure gesture and took his leave, hoping the pirate's wish would come true, since he definitely required the dragon's help to get across the boiler that separated him from Fort Dragonia.
Termina, another world, 1020 A.D.
Lisa politely wished a good evening as what she thought would be the last people she's deal with today and turned toward the shelves to re-arrange the merchandise and clean up the shop for the night.
She carefully picked the velvet boxes containing the elements on display and moved them so they would be perfectly aligned. Soon another day would have passed, another day as the owner of the shop, another since her father had passed away.
She could still remember all the days she had spent at the shop, her father raising her on his own while operating the business. She could have gone outside to play with the other kids as much as she wanted but somehow she was fascinated by those shining beads and simply followed her father through his work, listening to numerous conversations, all related to elements, their effects, their scarcity, their price.
By the time she was a teenager she had learned pretty much everything one needed to run an element shop and through a cruel irony destiny chose that moment to take the sole remaining member of her family away to the garden of the gods. She had the knowledge, not yet the courage but she had to step up and carry on her father's dream.
Her first years as a businesswoman had been quite harsh as her father had always taken care of the whimsical patrons and the suppliers with a nasty tendency to overestimate the value of their stock. Dealing with elements had always been fairly simple for her but people, especially those with an appetite for competition, had remained a mystery to her for a long time.
How could they value money above everything else, even their loved ones sometimes? There had been night were she just sat against wall behind her bed thinking how she'd trade all the money she had inherited only to have her father back.
Now all those injuries were covered by thick and somewhat unsteady scar tissue, allowing her to live on and face the fact that money was eternal and people were simply not.
Lisa carefully pushed one last box and took a step back to admire her work. Just then her heart skipped a beat as she felt a hand on her right shoulder. That hand was cold and bony with long gnarly fingers. She quickly turned around and saw two men standing right in front of her.
Her eyes immediately went to the one she suspected had warned her of their presence. He appeared quite old as suggested his wrinkly and yellow-greenish skin. His cranium was hairless save for a few long strands of white hair that fell on his back. His hands and head were the only parts of his frail-looking body left exposed by his dusty brown cassock. A skull-shaped golden medallion hung from his neck to rest on his chest. Even though the room was now quite dark, Lisa could swear that this accessory had black elements for eyes and a mouth.
The other individual was a middle-aged man with long curly brown hair that reached the middle of his back. He was rather tall, muscular and clearly had the appearance of a soldier, but strangely enough he didn't seem to carry any weapon. He wore a blue tunic decorated with golden stripes that covered every button of the garment and extended horizontally. A brown leather belt encircled his waist and matching boots protected his feet. His arms hung motionlessly to the sides of his body covered by a long chestnut cape. His visage was masculine yet beautiful but the detail that struck Lisa's mind the most was the eye-patch that covered his now missing left organ.
"Y-you scared me, I-we're closed now."
"Oh, I beg your pardon, my lady, I didn't mean to scare you. However, you wouldn't turn down a last-minute patron, would you?" The old man's tone was apologetic and pleading.
Lisa considered both men for a moment. Even though none seemed to be armed nor menacing she wasn't exactly willing to entrust them.
"Well… alright but please make this quick, it is night already and the day starts early for a shop owner.
"Of course, of course." The man waved his wrinkly hand in agreement.
Lisa left the two men to their shopping and exited to the back room for a moment.
"Are you certain we'll find some here? This appears to be but a standard element shop." The brown-haired man whispered to his elder.
"Nobody taught you that you need to dig to find treasures." The elder replied, a maniacal smile forming on his lips.
The old man walked toward the showcase and joined hands in his back, pretending to examine the elements on display. Uncertain of what to do the other man joined him.
"So, have you found something to your liking or would you need some counselling?" Lisa had come back with a candle in her right hand.
"Well, to be honest, no. Don't misunderstand me now: those are quality elements but I'm in search of some more… advanced material." The man said, rubbing his chin with his palm.
Lisa simply stared at him for a moment, not sure of the meaning of those words.
"Surely someone with experience in elements knows this archipelago is a fertile ground for highly concentrated elements. I'm looking for those superior beads that reflect through a superior bright light their potential." Was the elder's explanation of his wish.
"Surely you know those are not to be messed with, sir." Lisa's answer would have shocked the average customer but the man's only reaction was a calm and understanding chuckle.
"Long years of studying have taught me not to disrespect elements my dear lady, rest assured of that."
Probably through fatigue and with getting those two to leave as earlier as possible so she could get to bed Lisa led them to the counter before leaving for the storage room.
"Quite skilled with the ladies it seems." The middle-aged commented.
"One day you'll come to realize that a sweet little face isn't everything in life."
"But isn't she a little young for you, or rather aren't you a little old for her?" The brown-haired man mocked, scratching his chin.
"You'll have much time to consider apologizing once you have your hands on enough power to annihilate half of Porre's army… Of course I'll have enough to crush it all to dust."
Interrupting the men's forming dispute, Lisa approached them with a wooden case on top of which was carved a viper clinging on to a tree branch. The young woman opened the box, revealing several brightly shining beads of all six known colors.
Both men had to struggle to keep a smile from forming on their lips. Was the owner even aware of the amount of power on which she was sitting? The elder then considered Lisa for a moment. Surely that at such a young age she did not possess the skills to trigger those elements. However, did she have any idea of the nature of those elements, he wondered.
The white-haired man delicately picked a bead with his thumb and index and raised it to his eyelevel to get a closer look at it.
…incredible… simply, incredible…
The middle-aged man was content with simply beholding his elder examined several of the elements. Lisa couldn't help letting out a loud yawn but quickly apologized, hoping those two would be taking their leave soon so she could get some much deserved rest.
Finally, the old man closed the box, holding six elements in his skinny hand. He lifted his head to look at Lisa, appearing rather content with the merchandise.
"What would be your prize for those little wonders, miss?" He asked.
"Hmm, those are pretty rare, so that would be fifty thousand gold pieces, sir." She replied, taking a moment to consider the purchase.
"This seems most fair, however, I do not carry such money on me, so how about a trade?" The elder suggested.
This was rather unusual. Very rarely did someone come to her offering elements in exchange for other elements, but then again very few people had ever mentioned being interested in elements stronger than those on display, the average person simply being unable to use them.
"How about I gave you fifty Heal Plus elements in exchange for those?" He offered, detaching a pouch from his belt and placing it on the counter.
She had to admit the offer was more than reasonable, and what's more those rare elements rarely found a new owner and would most likely sit there for years while she'd have no trouble pawning off the Heal Plus elements.
Lisa opened the small bag and pulled out a handful of shining green beads, all identified as Heal Plusses. The woman placed them back in the pouch and gave the deal some more thought.
"…deal, sir."
"Excellent, I expected no less from a brilliant young lady such as you, miss." The elder closed his hand on his new possession and carefully laid them in his pocket.
"Well, we won't be abusing your sleep time no more, miss. I bid you a good night."
"The same to you, sir. Have a good night." Lisa politely said, unable to keep herself from yawning once more."
Nodding, the elder smiled and turned to leave, followed by his companion who left without a word of goodbye.
"Finally…" Lisa let out a sigh of fatigue and placed the pouch on a shelf: she would bother with putting them on display in the morning.
The blonde locked the entrance to the shop and headed for the backroom where a modest but cozy bed awaited her. She blew off the candle she had previously used and let her body plop on the piece of furniture, not bothering with undressing and quickly falling asleep.
--
Lisa was sound asleep but outside the festival was still going on. Screams could still be heard within the distance from the main square. The city was still illuminated and citizens were making the most of the annual celebration.
"I've always enjoyed festivals, how about we take a tour? After all, once the work is done, there's nothing wrong with having a little fun, is there?" The elder asked, pointing to the square.
"Anyway, I guess we've already won the big prize tonight." The other replied, not minding a foray in the lives of ordinary citizens.
El Nido Sea, another world, 1020 A.D.
Karsh stood against the wooden rail of Viper's flagship alone in the night, the handle of his axe resting against his leg. He stared silently at the sea while his mind was reliving some events he'd rather not. After having gone through several days filled with trials and more to come he'd certainly enjoy some rest on a bed but his mind simply refused to let him drift away from these memories.
"So, we're gonna go risk our lives crossing this boiler so this demon can perform some god-damn wicked ritual? How the fuck could I've let things go this direction?"
Karsh was definitely mad. Mad at himself, mad at Viper, mad at Lynx, mad at the whole world… mad at Riddel. So many things that weighed on his shoulders he had come to a point he didn't know where to direct his anger and mostly, he felt he simply didn't have enough anger and strength to bombard all these foes at a time.
First of all, there was him. On the outside he definitely looked strong and was quite respected among the people of El Nido, in fact anyone foolish enough to dare face him in a one-on one fight would have been called insane. At twenty-seven years old and with Zoah now gone he was one of the last two remaining devas and hell there were times he wished he had vanished with the two others.
Sure enough there were many looking up to him, or at least hoping to one day be able to match his combat abilities. But what did those people really knew about him? Looking back in time Karsh remembered the first time he picked a weapon. His old man had displayed an array of fine-looking blades for him to choose from. Though most acacia dragoons would prefer a sharp sword, young Karsh had examined the sturdy axe and was amazed by the massive weapon. Definitely heavier and more cumbersome than the agile blade the axe was, but the idea of one powerful strike to cut off a limb seemed an interesting idea to him.
Back then he was a happy kid, cherished by his parents, aspiring to attain a high rank among the army just like he father who had such high hopes for him. He was simply too young and innocent to understand the meaning of responsibility. Everyday he picked up the weapon and trained for hours without looking back, only enjoying learning new things everyday. Six years quickly went by, six years spent training to hone his skills with the feeling of becoming a better person each day.
Then came the day he officially became a dragoon. It was then that his shoulders began feeling heavier. Everyday the officials scrutinized him and others to spot those promising warriors. He still got up every morning to train as hard as he could, but he soon began to feel that he was doing all of this to please others first and to accomplish something important had been relegated to an inferior rank. Still he was making gains faster than others and was pleased to see that his efforts were rewarded with skill, strength and higher ranks, but still…
And then came the day he became a deva. That day he was convinced something would happen. All those days he had worked so hard would finally pay off. He would gain something called power, much different from strength. Ever since he was a kid, power had been portrayed as something incredible to him, something to strive for, as it granted freedom, the freedom to take decisions for others. There were only four devas in the army, only four with skill judged sufficient to fulfill the role of leader.
Power was indeed something very different from strength. It meant being accountable for one's personal mistakes as well as others' mistakes. One particular devastating events carved this in his mind forever: the war with Porre. He was in charge of deciding which tactics to use. At first sight Porre was but a small village with an army much smaller than theirs and Guardia's put together, but he knew the ravages these weapons they called firearms could muster.
He spent most nights up until dawn devising ways to stay out of range of the guns while advancing toward Porre to encircle it. His mind was screaming for rest and his body was screaming for action, but the place of a deva was to stay behind the scenes, observe the reactions and receive blame and sometimes praise. So many hours wasted arguing with his three equals, the lives of others at stakes. At this point victory was the only option available, losing the war would mean the rapid expansion of Porre to the point where they would control the mainland and the archipelago.
Eventually they were able to penetrate Porre's last stronghold, Fort Goldcape, on a stormy night. Through the intense storm the fusiliers were unable to aim at the trained dragoons rapidly crossing the devastated plains and reaching the walls where they built covers to protect them while they would pierce the thick walls with rams. Of course they had penetrated the fortress but once inside it would be impossible to operate without being slaughtered by the gunners.
However the rams were but a diversion, the real offensive would strike directly at the enemy's heart. Gunpowder was something very mysterious to anyone not in touch with Porre's military branch, but one night lady Luck smiled to the acacia dragoons in the form of a spy who had infiltrated a research group responsible with the development of gunpowder. All four devas thought exactly of the same thing upon hearing that a spark was all it needed to turn a pile of gunpowder into a fireworks that could be seen from the archipelago.
The powder magazine was the target to aim for. The plan was built to literally blow the fortress away in a huge explosion, but there was a problem: the one to set fire to the powder keg would surely not come back in one piece. Dario had been the first to protest that he had a family to return to once the war was over but Nathan Decormick, the spy who had discovered gunpowder's flaw, insisted that it was his duty to finish what he had started and that the lives of thousands were more important.
…alea jacta est…
Finding his way through the dark and pestilent sewers, Decormick made his way into the core of the fortress and locked himself up in the storing room. A grim expression on his face he shot a fireball element into the pitch-black sky to warn the ram operators to retreat immediately. It was too late when the soldiers of Porre understood what was going on. Decormick lit a torch to the poundings of a ram against the steel door guarding the powder magazine.
The flames quickly reacted to the dark powder and the fortress erupted like a volcano. Several explosions resonated through the sky, louder that the thunder. From afar, all dragoons watched solemnly as their comrade's sacrifice was granting them victory. When the sun rose to only to greet a blood bath the dragoons set out to inspect the shambles. Hundreds of bodies lay crippled, shred to pieces, it was a total annihilation. Not a trace of Decormick was left.
A few days later the troops were brought back home. A celebration was to take place in Termina to honour those who had fought in the war. The dragoons were greeted as liberators into the city. As he strutted about riding on a dragon he could clearly single out the visages of those who had lost loved ones in this battle: silent and emotionless through the joyful cheers. The expression on Decormick's widow's face he would never forget as she presented the medal her husband should have received.
…My husband… where is he…?
He had brought victory but he was also responsible for the ones who never made it back. He was the one who had to explain why families had to be torn, why children would bury their parents, why cutting a finger was sometimes the only way to save the hand, and mostly why some cheered for him while he was the one who ordered those who had fallen to walk up to the enemy's doom.
Finally came a time for peace, a time for diplomacy. Peace was supposed to be a warrior's ultimate goal, but he wasn't a simple warrior anymore. When all links are shattered, reconstructing them was a process he now dreaded. Everyday was filled with paperwork, meetings with diplomats and the idea that the war was now over or, like he perceived from some messengers, that it had never happened.
… Nothing?... Nothing happened…? How could they…?
So many came to sit at Viper's table, smiling and pretending all of this was but a huge misunderstanding, that there was never the intent to harm someone, that they all shared but the desire to achieve peace… that nothing ever happened. Sitting next to them in his finest clothes he smiled with his fist clenched under the table, dreaming of choking them when the time to rest for the night came.
How could they…? How could they show so little respect for all those who lost people dear to them, how could they pretend nothing had happened. Here they all sat, only those who had been pulling the strings all along, of course no one would bother to ask the opinion of those who had barely escaped the grim one's thresher, let alone those who couldn't see a smile –a real smile- on a loved one's visage anymore. And what was he doing? Nothing. Only sitting there and pretending to play along.
…Why…? Why are you sitting there not saying or doing anything…?
The answer filled himself with even more hatred. He had come to realize he didn't stand up to them because he feared losing his title. Opposing peace would mean treason and no one guilty of treason could remain a deva. So every night he watched them insult those who were sacrificed in an attempt to gain power only to keep his position as a leader of the army.
Those events it seemed were long past but lately another event brutally stabbed him to remind him that he wasn't someone who deserved to be praised. This event took the absurd form of a ghost hunt. It began with Viper calling him to his office to order him to meet the ghost of a boy who was supposed to be a threat to the Viper family and the protection it granted to the archipelago.
This was ridiculous but being a deva he only went half-heartedly, thinking he'd meet some sort of spy whose butt would be kicked. It was only upon meeting a blue-haired teenager on Cape Howl that he understood something was wrong: Viper sending him to fend kids, this all didn't make any sense. What's more, this kid, helped by a tomboy and a dog defeated him along with two acacia dragoons.
Solt and Peppor shaker certainly weren't the best warriors he had had under his orders but when he looked back at it he couldn't understand how they had managed to beat him. Then it struck him and he had to accept the truth. The freshman deva he had once been wouldn't have had any problems dealing with these brats, but over the years he had softened up.
Or rather he had sunk really low. It was clear that all the night he had spent drinking to forget his past mistakes and the mornings he had spent with a hangover had hindered interfered with his training a lot and he had fallen back a lot on his fighting skills. Hell, he hadn't even brought elements of every color. He had met this fight literally unprepared after a few years of half-ass training and totally underestimating his opponents. The magical formula for losing a battle.
For being unable to take the pressure, for spilling the blood of so many, for scarring the lives of so many, for clinging to his rank and being hungry for power, for being a puppet on strings, for resting on his laurels and for being unable to cope with his past. For all these reasons Karsh couldn't bear looking at his own reflection.
"Still mourning the day you got your ass handed to yourself by a bunch of kids in diapers, tough cookie." Came a female voice from behind.
"At least in my case they were a bunch and not just a pony-tailed tomboy." Karsh replied, slightly annoyed but taking some pride in the answer he had just managed to come up with.
"Looks like you can still fight after all... at least with your big mouth." Marcy was certainly not one who would go down so easily in a fight.
Karsh hissed in annoyance at Marcy's comment, having decided this argument would be pointless.
"The truth is harsh to take, uh?" She pestered him.
"You know I've never seen sharks so hungry for annoying blue innates before, funny, isn't it?" Karsh said, refusing to bother with turning to look at the other deva.
"You know what, we're gonna see more of them and we're both gonna take a beating again."
"You're awesome, never seen anyone so eager to take a dive to the sharks."
"God damn it can't you cut it with your bitter comments for a second. It's not my fault if your so angry at yourself for never having succeeded at getting Riddel in your bed."
Karsh furiously turned around, ready to grab his axe and pre-chew Marcy's body for the sharks. Much to his surprise all he saw then was a dead-calm Marcy who only stared at him, eyes strangely empty of any feeling.
"You know, when I look back at things, It's obvious what happened with us. These past few years we've been budy with paperwork, classy balls, diplomatic meetings, ghost-hunting and behing pissed off at having to deal with all this bullshit. Not much time left to spar and keep the engine warmed up, uh?"
Karsh put his axe back on the deck, his mind forced back to a more relaxed state by the thruthfulness of Marcy's words.
"Yeah, I suppose you're right, but it's not as if there was anything we could do about it right now." Karsh turned back to the sea and its constant wavering.
"I disagree..." Karsh slightly turned his head around and saw the female deva unsheathing two short swords.
"What do you think you're doing exactly?" Karsh asked, not perceiving any real threat in Marcy's action.
"Sir Karsj, I hereby challenge you to a sparring match right fucking now. En garde!" She hurled herself at Karsh taking a swing at his left arm.
Karsh quickly side-stepped to avoid the blow but was forced back one more step away from his axe he'd have wanted by an addiotionnal swing.
"Marcy stop it or I'll..."
"You'll what? Stare endlessly at the sea cursing at the whole world? Not really threatening. Hope your next move is a better one or you might stare with a few limbs missing." Karsh was dancing around to dodge the strikes and get closer to his weapon.
...Damn, did she go insane or what...?
"Marcy, I'm warning you, I'm serious..."
The swing aimed at his neck came but Karsh quickly got a hold of his weapon and raised it to deflect the attack. Marcy threw five more blows all aimed at the male deva's chest but all missed, only meeting the steel of Karsh's axe. Marcy's next attack was no joke: she rapidly lunged at slashed in an oblique line with the sword in her left hand and immediately spun around to take two more oblique slashes at Karsh's neck, forcing the man to take one more step back.
Having seen all her blows so far having been either blocked or avoided Marcy decided it was time to up the ante. She squeezed one of her short swords, focusing and forcing a good deal of energy into the small beads that were enclosed in the hilt. Several shards of ice were launched at Karsh who had no choice but to drop to the floor to avoid behing impaled.
"She...she's possessed..." Karsh muttered quickly getting back up in fighting stance.
It sure sounded crazy but he had no choice: he had to fight Marcy... with real weapons. Karsh switched his stance to an offensive one, his axe slightly behind him, ready to be forced forward with the momentum of his hips and body, his free hand forward for parrying and feinting.
Karsh bobbed his head to the left to avoid a quick stab and took one strong step forward, swinging his axe in an oblique slash followed by a horizontal one to force Marcy a few steps away from him. However she didn't leave him but a split-second to breathe, taking a swing at his right arm and managing to open a small cut in his arm, the older deva having lost his balance but quickly recovering it.
Karsh carefully danced around his opponent, trying to think of the best way out of this. The first thing that came to his mind was to try to reason with Marcy, but considering the result of his previous attempts and the fact that Marcy was having one of her temporary stubbornness outburst he decided to put logic away. The only way for him to end this other than in a bloodbath was to grab Marcy and pin her to the ground.
Karsh's plan was a risky one as he only had one shot but he was tired and rather pissed off at the moment and didn't want to get bogged down in this fight. Karsh swung his body and his axe forward and, to Marcy's surprise, let go of his weapon at the peak of the movement. Being such a heavy weapon, Karsh's axe carried a lot of force when thrown, forcing Marcy to use both of her small weapons to deflect it. This sudden full-body movement put her off balance for a very short amount of time indeed, but still enough time for the other deva to rush up to her, grab her by the waist and force her to the ground.
Marcy suddenly found herself unable to move, restrained by Karsh's muscular frame. She tried to wriggle out of the dire position she was in but to no avail: Karsh was an expert at wrestling and the only to ever have made it out of one of his holds was Zoah.
"What do you think you're doing?" Karsh yelled, bringing his face inches from Marcy's.
"The correct question is what do you think you are doing, dirty-deva."
Karsh frowned, puzzled by the return of his question. The adrenaline from the fight having dropped Karsh's brain quickly returned to his normal sensorial potential and realized he was most unsure of the nature of the object he was holding in his right hand. The deva slowly lowered his gaze, still refusing to lower his guard, and was taken aback upon seeing that he was grasping one of the soft mounds on Marcy's chest.
Karsh quickly reddened as he let go of his hold to allow both fighters to get back on their feet. Karsh coughed in an awkward manner, only to try to get rid of the embarrassing silence that had cloaked the atmosphere.
"Wow! I'm impressed by the gentleman you've become, blatantly groping me like that without a word of apologize." Marcy teases as she re-sheathed her weapons.
"Oh, uh, yeah, I didn't want to... but what fuck, to hell with that shit, do you even realize what you just did?"
"What you just did was also worthy of mention." Imagine everyone else's reaction when their hear you tried to take me by force." The woman mused aloud.
"Cut the goddamn act, you'd have to be mad to get me to fight you with real weapons on purpose. I wonder what everyone else's reaction would have been should I have reduced the number of your limbs."
"Don't worry about that no more, I think the answer to all of your questions lies in the fact that everyone is used to your constant blunders by now."
"Where's that damn axe...?" Karsh's word were only meant to scare Marcy but to no avail.
"I believe what you're looking for is lodged into that mast over there." Marcy pointed to Karsh's weapon, which had remained locked onto the main mast.
"Sometimes I wonder how you've managed to make it this far without getting that tongue of yours cut off." Karsh wondered aloud, returning his gaze to the sea, with mount Pyre becoming clearer on the horizon.
"Dunno, prolly because of my sword skills and the fact that I'm so attractive... works especially well on pervs like you."
Karsh remained silent, deciding the fight was over and it wasn't worth retaliating.
"Alright then, I guess that's all for tonight. I'm off to showering, try not to have too many wet dreams, I don't think Viper'll enjoy waiting for you while you're recovering from a night with yourself."
"Don't worry about it, girl, I'll try not to think about what you're gonna do in that upcoming shower." Karsh wasn't sure how Marcy had managed to get to him and force a retaliation out if him but he smiled, satisfied by his answer and bracing himself for what he knew was coming.
Karsh slowly begun to turn his head and then rapidly spun on his feet to grab the axe that was flying toward him before it could split his visage in two.
"Hey, no need t ofuss over it, I won't tell anyone about our thryst... Okay, maybe I'll tell some people, but no more than twenty, I promise.
Karsh called out to her but her only response was an obscene gesture, her back turned to him, continuing to walk away.
The deva returned to his silent thinking and then one thing struck him: he did not hate Marcy. Why? He certainly couldn't tell. She was annoying, arrogant, pestering, like a recurring pain in the ass and somehow they never parted angry, even after a fight with real weapons. But the strangest phenomenon was that he wasn't alone on this island, as if the girl had some sort of gift that allowed her to use her unbearable behaviour to soothe anger and resentment.