Edgar started at the sound of something banging on the glass window of the carriage. Momentarily stunned; he wondered even when he'd gone to sleep, or gotten back into the carriage?
"Your majesty?" One of his guards called through the window before opening the door.
Edgar looked dazed and confused. Had the Chancellor sent someone to get him, just because he was a few hours late? Blinking, the fog in his blue eyes clearing up, he takes notice to his surroundings. 'I'm at Figaro castle.' Looking around the carriage, he sees that there has been no damage to the coach as he'd known there to have been. The broken window isn't shattered out, but in one solid piece; the slice his sword put through the door when he'd been rammed into it was repaired as well.
"Sir? Are you alright?"
"Out of the way!" Chancellor Arnold pushed the royal guard aside. "Are you alright, your majesty? Have you been harmed in any way?"
'That's right, my injury...' His palm presses to the back of his neck; expecting a sting from the slices he'd taken during the scuffle, he can feel no pain, no burn, or sting as he had when it happened.
Seeing that the king hasn't spoken a word yet, the Chancellor stands aside. "Don't just sit there- help him out!" Ordered the vassel.
"Right." Reaching into the carriage, his hands are swatted away causing him to retreat back when the king leans to get out on his own.
Head in a spin, his full weight falls forward out the door, but he's caught easily by two of his men. He voiced a slight groan when attempting to straighten himself up.
"We've got you, sir." Says the second gaurd.
"Thank you."
"Take him to his room, I'll see that the doctor comes in to see him at once." Instructed the Chancellor. Following behind the king and the royal guards, his eyes go to the sky praying to the Goddesses that his highness be well.
After being checked out, the doctor told Edgar that he seemed fine, minus a bump on the head, but even that was hard to detect due to when he'd received the injury. When asked about it, Edgar was unsure if he should say anything or not. He didn't recall being hit over the head, although having it shoved through glass could have been the cause of it. No... that isn't even right because the glass had been repaired, if it were even broken. He'd never been so confused about anything in his entire life. Was he only dreaming he'd seen that man? Was the man really himself, is the real question... It had been raining, it was a long day, he was exhausted... surely he'd dreamt the whole thing up, and at some point arrived home to the castle. Or perhaps Chancellor Arnold had sent someone to find him because he was late and they were the one who brought him back. Found him sleeping in the carriage like an imbecile, ready to be attacked by anyone willing to take out the king.
'Hn. That's the irony of it though, I've got no more enemies to speak of. I could collapse in a field and be perfectly intact.' Touching the side of his head, his hands pad through the strands. 'When had I washed out the black tar?' He wonders, bringing his hand down to his lap he looks at his clean palm.
"Will you leave us, please?" The chancellor asks of the doctor.
"Of course. Take care, your majesty." Standing, he nods. "I'll bring some ice for that bump." Walking out of the room, he closes the door.
"Your majesty, its just the two of us now. Please..." The man actually clasped his hands together. "tell me what's happened to you. Were you ambushed by some rogue, the man who'd broken into the castle perhaps?"
"N..." Stopping his reply, he thinks the question over. "...No." He decided to lie. No proof, no attack. Simple as that.
"Are you sure? You've been gone an awfully long time."
"What are you talking about? I've been gone as long as I'd said I would be."
Chancellor Arnold looks at the king sideways. He had to be messing with him? Surely he knows that its been three weeks since he'd left the castle. "Your majesty, you-..."
Cutting the man off, he finished the sentence. "Have got a lot of work piled up. I know." Standing, he's pleased to see that his balance is back.
Before he could correct the man's statement, the king walked out of the bedroom and down the hall.
"Oh dear." Declared the worrying man; his nerves fraying more and more with each step he took after the king.
"I promise I'll get it all done within the afternoon."
"Your highness, it is the afternoon." Informs the vassel.
"Then I'd better get cracking, eh?" Edgar smiled over his shoulder at the man before disappearing into the upper courtyard.
The guards salute him as he passes by; the king gives them a courtesy nod while continuing on his way to the office past the throne room. The longer the walk, the more weight he can feel pushing on his shoulders; his color fading away to gray. Back in prison. When the double doors push open, Edgar has to double take as he could swear the dark haired man was sitting in his chair; leg crossed over the other kicking it lightly up and down, his hand waving at him, and a small smirk plastered on his lips. But as soon as he'd seen him, the man was gone. Having never been there in the first place.
"Is something the matter?"
The man was determined to fret over him. Smiling, Edgar shakes his head. "No. Everything is fine mother, now please..." With a gesture he waves the man out of the room. "leave me to my work. I'm a big boy, I think I can handle it myself."
The chancellor looked skeptical about that, but did not question the king any further as he seemed to be getting agitated with him. "Yes, sir."
Satisfied when the door closed; Edgar takes a seat at his desk a sigh on his lips, and weight in his heart, he thumbs through the massive pile of papers. There was no way a week off brought all this on. Where did it come from? Were plans not going as followed in one of the new locations, was there trouble still in the older ones? What could be the matter that the paperwork has gotten this big? Seeing that he's received a letter from Terra he decides to read that first before getting to work. He needed something to lighten his mood, and hopefully the girl's letter would do just that.
"Dear Edgar-..." He read.
"Your majesty!" The door to his office burst open, startling him. Seeing this, the guard looked apologetic then continued with what he'd had to say. "We've finally located the two missing guards, sir."
Confused, Edgar blinks. "What missing guards?"
"Carmine and Sorel. They've been missing; we first noticed three weeks ago when we'd changed post and they didn't take their place."
"What do you mean?"
"Didn't the chancellor tell you, sir?"
"Tell me what? Please, from the beginning... what's happened?"
"After you'd gone to South Figaro, we discovered that two gaurds were missing. We've been searching for them since then and we've finally managed to locate them." Backing away when the king stands, he turns himself to follow the man's lead.
"I can't believe that chancellor didn't tell me this right away." A thought came to him as he played the man's words over in his head. "There's something wrong with your story, though. I've only been gone a week."
"No sir, you've been gone for a month." He seemed uncertain that he should correct the king's word, but then he couldn't just lie to him; how King Figaro doesn't know what day it is, is strange. Hadn't he known how long he'd been out? Surely he must have had some idea. You can't just miss three weeks of your life unless your struck into living rest. "They're in the medwing." The man says to the slowly halting king.
"You're sure of this?"
Nodding, the guard is becoming urgent with his haste to get the king to the room. He's sure that he'll want to see what's happened to their men, so he can take firm action against the creep who did this to their kind.
'How could I have missed three weeks? What was I doing?' He wonders.
"Sir, the wounded men?" He didn't want to push.
"Right. Come along."
The two march out of the room in a strong stride to the medical wing of the castle. Edgar was becoming more pissed as this day was going on, then to find out he'd been gone for three weeks! What the hell is going on with him?
The door pushed open and the king stepped inside. Edgar had expected to hear moaning, groaning, maybe even a few sobs of pain, but the room is dead silent. That's never a good sign when patients have possible concusions and should be awake rather than sleeping, but then again, they could just be heavily medicated.
Seeing the king enter the room, the elderly doctor stands from the stool he'd been seated on, bowing to his king. "Your highness."
Edgar's eyes widen in shock; there is no way what he's seeing before him can be real... "What's happened to them?"
The doctor put on a sullen look. "I believe our intruder found his way to the weaponry, your majesty." Beside him, on a long tray placed atop a stack of drawers, is a set of arrows. "I pulled these out of the guards."
Edgar's heart stopped. Those arrows... they're the ones he'd used when he took the two men out to the target course with him that day. But... there was just no way.
"They were dead when the others brought them in; sun burnt beyond reason, and dehydrated." Shaking his head, he says quietly. "Even if the men had been alive when they were shot, they never would have made it back to the castle alive due to weather conditions."
Edgar only half heard what the man had been saying, his darkening gaze casts itself over the two bodies. Their faces are distorted in pain; one man missing an eyeball from where the arrow had gone clean through his head, entering from the socket. He also had an arrow in his shoulder, and chest. The second man had been shot in the neck, and removing it must have been a nightmare to be careful of, as bits of tissue matter can be seen peeking through the cleaned hole. Edgar could even see where the grains of sand had begun to rot away the flesh before the doctor could get to them, the skin around the holes are hard and leathery, a thick dumpy brown color; even if his men had been lucky enough to live, they'd be scarred for life as the holes in their bodies would never heal.
Edgar felt sick with guilt... if he had stayed out there with them... no... if he had left sooner- no... dammit all, what is going on! His weight dropped down onto an empty bed. Posture slumped, he leans his forehead onto folded fingers. 'How could this have happened? How... when did I... If I had, that is...'
"I'll make the buriel arrangements, if you'd like." Says the chancellor, seeming to have come from nowhere.
Turning his head, posture still slumped, Edgar nods. He's in no place to do such a thing as of right now. Furthermore, someone will have to alert the families of these men. That alone will be harder than the funeral.
"Its not uncommon for men to go out to the training course, but these two are more skilled with the spear, right?" He strokes at the wisps of gray hair grouped on his chin. "Can't understand what they were doing at the archory targets."
"I... I took them out there with me, to get some practice in. I left before they did."
The doctor nods. "Then its a good thing that you did leave, otherwise you might have taken injury as well; although, when speaking about your highness' skill compared to any other, you'd undoubtedly be fine."
'I'd be fine... because I'm probably the one responsible for doing this.' He thinks with guilt.
Watching the king's depleted mood, the doctor covers the two dead bodies with the blankets, as they had been before King Edgar walked in. "Would his majesty like a tonic." He nods to him, referring to a headache it seemed that the king has brewing.
"Yes, please."
He waits for the man to mix him a dark blue drink. The doctor hands the bottle over to the king, with instruction to dump a little into his tea. Thanking him, Edgar heads back to his office, knowing that he can't take a rest due to being so backed up. On the way back to his office, Edgar spots the beaten maid, Katia. The man before said that he had been the one who'd beaten her so badly, and that she wasn't talking because of that. He'd be a fool to believe such nonsense, but then he'd be a bigger fool not to at least check up on it.
"Katia?" He says almost too softly to be heard; but the woman turned her head to her name.
"Yes, your majesty?" She walks over to the king.
Something so simple as walking, Edgar can tell that she's on edge; her hands drawn up to her breast as if to shield her entire self from one spot. Edgar had paused so long with what he'd wanted to say, she began to shift from foot to foot waiting for him to speak.
"...Could you get me a cup of tea?" He chooses to say instead.
"Tea? Yes, of course." She bowed her head before walking away. "Right away."
She hurries down the hall to the kitchen. Opening the doors to the throne room, he walks into his office. It was strange that the door was closed, when he was sure he'd left it opened but then, the Chancellor did show up at the sick room so maybe he'd been in to check on him. Walking over to his desk, he sets down the bottle of tonic at the corner.
"Trapped again, I see."
Startled, Edgar released a calming breath.
"And look at all this work pile up... you can't honestly find this fun."
"Lucky for me I don't expect fun to come with my duties." Edgar glares at the back of the seat, where the top of the man's head can be seen by only a little bit.
The dark haired man swivveled the seat back and forth, but not around the full turn. "Aaaw, the dutiful king. Isn't it all very noble."
"Listen, get out of my office, out of my castle, and stay out of my life... I'm sick of you coming around, and hurting my court because you're looking for kicks." He punctuated the statement by a firm pound with his fist on the desk.
"Mmm. I'm not deaf so no need for the order aaand to answer your commands... no, no, and no." Finally the chair turns around to face front.
To say Edgar was surprised by what he saw would be an understatement. Outside that day; in the darkness and the rain, the man's facial features weren't very clear, they were hidden. But here and now, Edgar can see that this man does infact look a lot like him. If the man had blond hair he was sure that it would be hard to tell them apart, but no... no, that's not true. Edgar's sure his eyes don't have that certain cruel look behind them, nevermind the black hair.
"Why are you here? Where did you come from?"
"I'm here for you... although, with your hospitality I'm starting to think that maybe I should just go." He stands.
"Sit down!" Barks the king.
Giving the blond a scrutenizing look, the intruder remains standing. "You dreamed of having a life outside of this castle, a life full of adventure and passion," He wriggles his brows. "You made me so that I can give you all of that... and more."
"I wouldn't... it isn't possible!" He runs his hands through the loose strands of hair, that never seemed to make it into the band with the rest of it.
"Think about it... go ahead, you'll see that I'm right."
Edgar shakes his head. "No. No."
The man smiles. "You don't have a choice, look at me... reach out, feel me- you can- I'm already here."
Edgar shakes his head.
"And what was that name that you called me...? Iron Lord. It has a very nice ring to it, powerful, just like I am."
"Shut up." He whispers.
"Why? Are you scared?"
"No. I want you to shut up, because you sound ridiculous!" He snaps.
The door to the office moved open a hair, the maid peeks into the crack. Is the king talking to himself?
"I would never-!" He lowers his tone. "I would never want to hurt people for fun."
"I know, that's what makes this all so great. You see... you created me, and I do the grunt work for you. In the end its all very theraputic, and you'll thank me for it."
Edgar rubs his head. He really does need that tonic. He thought about taking it straight from the bottle, when a small cough from behind caught his attention. Turning, he sees the maid standing there with a cup of tea on a tray in her hands.
"Your tea." She remained at the door.
Looking back to where 'Iron' was standing, he sees no one, not even a trace that anyone had been here. "Thank you." Moving forward, he takes the cup from the tray.
"I... I shouldn't ask, but... are you alright, your majesty?"
"Yes, I'm perfectly fine."
Nodding, she backs out of the room. Maybe she'd been wrong. He could have been speaking to himself while working out a trouble. What would she know. Just as long as the king is alright, she can presume that no more trouble would come to the castle.
When the maid was gone, Edgar walks with the cup of tea to the window, dumping it out into the desert below. The tonic he then dropped into the waste basket. He should really thank that maid for startling Edgar enough for him not to notice the jump. Now's the time to really put his plans into play. Edgar wants to have fun, he's going to get a whole mountain of it.
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"That's funny." Terra says to herself, as she looked over a letter she'd received two days ago from when it had been sent. 'I thought that Edgar wanted to see me, but now he's telling me not to come, and instead go to Nikeah.' She supposed it didn't matter where they met up, so long as they did.
Besides, Edgar might have gone all the way out there to make the visit easier on her, knowing that she may not have the funds to get to Figaro castle. Sabin has a royal ship of his own to take voyages when needed, so he'll be there as well. As for Setzer and Locke, they'll no doubt come when word gets to them. Wondering about the others, she taps her chin.
Placing the letter inside a small drawer in the side table by the couch, she stands. 'I'd better pack some travel clothes, incase we stay at an Inn.' Heading into her bedroom, she pulls out a duffle then, from the closet, removes two short dresses; a hair brush, from on top of the dresser; and some hair pins that were given to her by Celes over the holidays. Tying them up in the duffle, she sets it down beside the bed. She's never been the most feminine female, so packing never took very long for her. Its gonna be nice having time to speak with the others, then she can tell them about the news. Rubbing her stomach, she smiles contently.
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Sabin moved the curtains over. Something was strange, and not the usual kind of strange like when he and Shadow would assalt each other out in the thick forest. Stepping out of the house, Sabin looks around with his vision before going a little further out. Sabin is highly trained in the field and almost nothing and no one can sneak up on the man successfully. Closing his eyes, he allows his bare feet to wriggle into the soil before stilling. No... no one is out in the forest but something is going on, he just has to find out what. Moving through the woods, at a slow cautious speed; Sabin's ears prickle to hear for something faint. A bird fluttered by, causing only a slight disturbance in the forest but the rest of the area was silent, remaining so, even after the bird had gone through.
'To the left.' Heading off that way, it isn't long before he spots a body, no two bodies... three? Hurrying now, he drops down beside the three fallen forms. His fingers touch the neck of two, finding out that they're no longer alive. The third man however... "What's happened? Whose done this to you?"
"I... I don't know, it all happened so fast." The burly man chokes on blood for a few coughs. His throat strains as he tries to speak again.
"No- never mind, don't speak. I'll get you to Narshe, you'll be treated there." The man cried out when Sabin grabbed him by the arm and around his back to heft him up. "I'm sorry. But you're gonna have to bare with the pain until we get out of here."
"Aaa!" Again the man cried.
Sabin thought about putting him down, but he could not. There was no way he planned to leave the man here for whomever had done this to come back and finish the job, while he goes into the coal mining town, hidden by caves to get a doctor. Blood flowed down Sabin's white pants staining them instantly, his light green tank wasn't fairing any better. Whomever did this seemed to wanna massacre the men, rather than simply take their lives. All of their arms have been cut up, their clothes torn to shreds by a sword blade. The most noteable injuries being a stab through the torso, several stabs infact. This man had somehow gotten lucky enough to either be plump enough to deflect some of the damage or lucky enough that the attacker grew bored when he'd dropped to the ground. To think that only a few weeks ago he had been enjoying a nice trip to Jidoor with Claude and Relm. They had a wonderful dinner together after the show; Sabin wrapped the paintings in paper so they'd be alright during the travel back home, and to the castle when he goes there to give Edgar his gift. Later that night at the Inn, boy did they ever celebrate the reunion; the guy next to them banged on the wall but his wife told him to stop. Sabin had to chuckle about that, it would seem even the classy people who come to Jidoor have a little kink in them.
A pained groan caught Sabin's absent attention back to the task at hand. They were thankfully close to the border of the forest and soon a field spread out before them. Sabin can sense that someone truly had been through here and not long ago either. He had to wonder where that person or persons are right at the moment, and if this was a set up. Leaving one man alive after all that had been done to the others, could have easily been a trick to whomever were to come along and find them. The grass in this field is tall enough to reach his calves, which means anyone could hide within its tall blades waiting to spring out and kill. Unfortunately for them Sabin is no ordinary man, and unlike those others he would not be taken down. It was very likely this man would bleed out during a fight. Sabin, though, would not let their deaths be in vein.
The wind rustled noisily through the grass, bending the blades to its push.
"We're gonna make it. Just hang on." He tries soothing the groaning man with his words.
Once leaving the forest Narshe is a two mile walk. They have to make it. But they need to move faster...
"Forgive me." He asks before hoisting the man into his arms bridal style. The scream forced from the man's mouth, frightened a few animals away from start. Sabin apologized before darting forward at a speed that exceeded a normal humans. It may not be God-like but with enough effort he can just about take the two miles as if it were only twenty feet with his flash step.
Speed training with Duncan had really paid off, though it was Vargas who had the real advantage. It was a shame the man was so jaded, they could have been a great duo. But such is life; with every great team there will be a rivalry, when one wants to become the greatest. Sabin made it into town, the cold wind and snow nipped at his face and bare feet. He really should remember to leave with his shoes on next time. He wished that he could find a cart, but carrying the man could not be helped. He's just glad that the clinic is on ground level and they won't have to take any stairs.
The cave dwellers of Narshe watch the two men enter their town. They all know Sabin, not personally, but the hero's of the great war are quite famous in every land. It was strange for them to see him carrying a man, who looks near death. A man shoveling coal into one of the stoves by the Moogle piping entrance, spotted the man and hurried over.
"Can I help you, your excellency?" He addressed the prince formally.
"Yeah... thanks." Sabin lowers the man to the ground. Apologizing softly when he groaned in the position change. "I think his injuries hurt him less when he's upright." Gesturing by show, he slips one of the man's arms around his shoulders, while holding him around his waist.
"Sure." Replied the man, doing the same hold as Sabin.
The two walk toward the clinic as quickly as they can. Once the man was inside, the doctor went to work on him right away. He wasn't just a priority because of his injuries, the Prince of Figaro brought him in. That holds a lot of weight in this town.
"You're gonna be ok, now." Sabin assured the wounded man. Though, he's unsure. Turning to the coal miner, he holds out a hand. "Thanks."
"No problem, say... what happened to Tony?" Asks the miner. "Did a tree fall on him or somethin'?"
Sabin shakes his head. "He was attacked, by whom I don't know." He shrugged. "I found him just barely alive. Do you know him?"
The man nods. "He lives in this town. He went to cut down trees with two other guys. The mayor sent them." He looks over his shoulder to where the lumberjack rests in the next room. "What happened to the others?"
"Dead, I'm afraid."
"I see."
The two were quiet.
"He may remember the face of the person or persons, when he comes around. I can't stay here to ask because I have to look out for them... will you?"
"Sure. I have to finish supplying heat to the Moogles, but once I'm done stuffing the stoves, I'll be bed side until he gets up." He pats Sabin on the shoulder. "Not to worry, your excellency, my wife is a damned good cook. She'll get him around."
Sabin chuckled. "That's fine." Patting the man on the shoulder he says before leaving the clinic. "Tell the man, I'll see to it that his friends' deaths are not in vein. I'll bring the bodies over when I'm done scouting the area."
"I'll tell their families." His happy tone suddenly sunk, at the realization of his words.
"Hey, cheer up. Whoever did this didn't get all of them. We can be happy for that... I'll avenge them, I swear it."
"You're a good man."
Leaving the clinic, Sabin walks through the town at top speed. He didn't wanna bump into anyone if he'd ran, but once past the town's exit, he takes off at a run. He has a lot of mileage to cover and not a lot of light left to see with, as night slowly but quickly approaches.
...
Sabin ended up getting nothing out of his search. For all he knows the men were attacked by a wild animal, or a monster still hopped up on the evil of the mind control waves that raked the land two years back. No. Those were wounds from a blade, he's sure of it. Chances are, whomever did that to those men is long gone by now. From home, Sabin grabs a lantern to help him see; and a cart to help him carry the men to Narshe. Walking it through the forest to the exit; he slides the men on to the two wheeled slanted board, once he reaches them. Checking that they wouldn't fall off the cart once its lifted into his hold; Sabin heads for Narshe again. He'll probably stay at an Inn rather than walk all the way back home. Regardless its usefulness, the flashstep can be very straining on the body; much-like his Mantra, which drains him physically while replenishing his friends with his life-force. His other technique, Spiraler, is learned only for the gravest emergancies because that attack will kill him. In times of a world without magic, there is no saving grace to bring him back; should that move be executed, he'd be finished. Simple as that. You can't even buy a Pheonix Down anymore, as the Esper bird; regardless its regenerating life, has vanished with the rest of the Espers, so you can no longer extract its disgarded feathers to make the potion. Thankfully, war times are over and nothing that dire will ever come up again.
The door closed behind him with a sound thump. He is exhausted. He really should have slept at Narshe; once he'd walked into the Inn, Sabin realized that he'd forgotten his money pouch. No money, no room. So he returned to his departed master's home, body aching and in need of a deep sleep. At least he'd worn his shoes. He chuckles while removing said shoes; walking to the stove, he grabs the tea kettle sitting on the stove top. Taking the kettle over to the sink, he pumps the handle of the iron device then, with kettle beneath the spigot, he catches the water that washes out. When the kettle gets filled to his liking, he sets it onto the stove; lights a fire in the belly of the pot, then waits for it to boil. Dropping onto his bed; the softness of the mattress cushions his back comfortingly; he relaxes, and closes his eyes.
If it hadn't been for the burning wood in the stove, Sabin was sure he would have smelled the smoke before seeing the fire. His eyes opened slowly to check the time; he planned to start dinner at seven, but rather than the clock Sabin was greeting with the sight of dancing flames flickering past the window outside. It couldn't be. In a hurry, he sits up, going to the window. "Shit! The forest is on fire!" Grabbing the door knob, Sabin's hand instantly withdrew from the handle. The instant burn spoke volumes; it told him that the fire is right up on the door, or at least close enough that the metal handle caught the heat. Splinters discharge through the air, shooting outward; it took little effort for Sabin to break out of the home; the gust of wind that expelled from the home blew the flames away, as far as it had travelled out through the forest. Exiting his home the prince looks around for the firestarter. It was nearly impossible for a fire to just randomly start on its own. Narshe is nothing like the desert, where dry brush could ignite at anytime. This fire is man made; unfortunately the cross winds aren't in his favor because they're carrying the fire causing it to spread from where it had originated.
A whizzing sound tore through the low grumble of the incredible flames. Sabin dodged it easily by rolling onto his side, out of the way. Still kneeling, he turns to look in the direction it had come from. The weapon is not foreign to him, he's seen this type of ninja star before, only thing was it doesn't belong to Shadow. He'd never used the blue stars before because of the lack in speed it possesses.
'Lucky me, I'm getting attacked by a ranked ammature.' He thinks off-hand. Picking up the star, he tosses it back to where it had come from; up in the trees something moved to dodge it. He had them now.
In the blink of an eye Sabin was no longer where he'd been standing, it took two branches to end up blocking the path of his attacker, who slammed right into his chest. The martial artist smiled with a sneer. This had to be some kind of joke. Its just a damned teenager! Dressed all in black, white make-up on his face, and darkened lips like some woman. The boy is also wearing what looks to be armor. Fine armor at that. The teen holds tightly to a branch over his head, to keep from rocking unsteadily back and forth.
"So it was you." Snipped the prince. "You're the one whose been breaking into the castle. And what reason have you come here, what reason do you have to attack my family?"
"Family?" The teen says faintly. "Hn. According to Iron you know nothing about family."
"Iron? Who the hell is-... Hey! Get back here!"
With a wave the male straightened his body like an arrow and dropped from the trees to the ground.
'Dammit, I should have grabbed him.' Sabin beat himself. Joining the male on the ground, he lands softly, but his difference in weight dipped the dirt beneath his feet. Straightening, he glares daggers at the boy.
"I may not be the athlete that you are, but believe me... I pack quite a punch." Pulling out a dagger, he holds it backwards so the blade is at his forearm.
"Hn. With that weak stance you may only end up hurting yourself, leave this fight little boy... It would be better in the long run." He gets into battle stance regardless.
"Oooh, I'm scared." Charging at the blond, he gives a battle cry.
Sabin braced himself for the dagger to slice at him. A stance like that could accomplish two moves: slicing from backhand, giving him a second or two before the handle is regripped and the blade turns to slice in the opposite direction. But to Sabin's surprise the blade against the teen's forearm did not move, instead a second blade was unsheathed from behind the male's back slicing for his abdomen. The martial artists chi kicked in instantly after the stun wore off, and the blade struck him with a dull force, managing to only slice his shirt. It came into contact with his skin, but training has allowed Sabin to harden his core like iron with his natural energy. A blade swung at this kid's level won't be able to hurt him. But that didn't mean the battle wouldn't wear on his body, especially after the current situation with the lumberjacks.
Grabbing the boy by the boy's arm, the one with the dagger, by the wrist Sabin backhands him; the slap snapped the boy's head, and dropped him to the ground; his one arm dangles up in the air, the hold from the prince hadn't released. Sabin loomed over the teen like a dark cloud, threatening to rain blows down upon him. But instead the man seemed determined to show him mercy. Iron was right. He could kill the prince if he really tried. Reaching into a pouch hidden behind his back, he tosses a smoke bomb to the ground.
Sabin was no fool to just let go of the childs wrist because of a smoke screen, infact, he tightened his grip. The teen wasn't going to give up that easily. His leg raised, he kicked the martial artist in his crotch, satisfied with the cry of pain he'd heard, even more pleased when feeling the man let go. The teen couldn't help but think that not all of the man could be turned to steel. Straightening, his leg swings through the thick smog, coming into contact with the side of the prince's face. He may not have made a sound from the impact, but the boy was happy to have at least hit him effectively.
A loud crack sounded off in the distance as a tree became engufled by the flames. The fire is completely surrounding Sabin's home; overhead it looks like the devil's halo. A glowing ring, dancing with flames.
"I'm gonna ask you again." Sabin's voice ground out.
The boy's attention dropped from the sky back to the prince. The blond is standing, showing his four foot advantage to him. The teen braced himself for the assault. His face already in pain from the backhanding.
"Stand down, and leave. I'll put out the fire, and forget this ever happened. I'm not gonna beat up some brat, just because some moron told him that it would be okay."
"He is NOT a moron!" Bellows the teen. He seemed to get a little more conviction in his words, and fire in his actions as once again he charges the prince.
He swung wildly, Sabin dodged easily. This fight was almost too pathetic to participate in. The daggers metal shine with an orange glow as they move to and fro through the air. The teens grunts became angered and restless. Sabin grabbed the boy by the shoulders; kneeing him in the gut, when the teen gave him an opening; his leg straightened kicking the younger male under the chin, knocking him back on his butt. The prince's laugh made the male blush in fury. It didn't matter, the laugh will be on him, if he could just back him up a little more.
"Tell me more about this Iron guy. Does he have some sort of death wish for you? Why else would he send a boy out to attack a war hero."
Growling, the teen charged forward again. This time his slices with the double daggers have far little space left between each swing, he whirled them, spun with them facing outward like a tornado. But none of his attempts were working. But his plan came into action when a falling branch caused Sabin to launch back a good few feet. Right into his trap. Perfect. Before the prince could figure out what the threading sounds were, he's hoisted into the air by one ankle; a thin wire slices into his ankles when his weight settles; the trees that the wires are tied to give a little groan at the sudden tug.
'I'm not entirely sure how these work, but here goes nothing.' Thinks the male.
Another net of wire is hoisted into the air; leveled to Sabin's chest. And from the lines hang little bombs. They're set to go off the moment the ignition powder is lit. With a match in hand, the male lights the wire that's been greased with motor oil. The prince may be a superb fighter, but when it comes to brains he may as well stick to body building. Under estimating someone is always the biggest mistake. No one can survive this. The teen heard himself laughing at the man's impending doom when the line seemed to drop to the ground in a lifeless flutter.
Confused, he stamps out the snake of a flame that fell at his feet. Someone has cut the line! But who? The teen felt a hard squeeze at his nape and shoulder, before his weight fell foward all on its own, his eyes drawing darkness before the impact with his head and the ground.
Sabin's upside down view locked onto the dark figure standing before the heap of a child. He was unsure of who it was until the arms crossed in a disbelieving way. "Shadow! Good timing! That little fuck planned to blow me up!" He called down to the male.
"I see that." Muttered the male, noticing the fire blazing all around them. It won't matter that Shadow cut the line if the flames reach the net of tags anyway. Removing a few stars from his person, the assassin tosses them through the air; they slice into the wire snapping them like wet twigs before sticking into the burning tree trunks.
Sabin fell from the sky; landing on his hands, he bounced his weight from the ground flipping over to stand. "Thanks."
Shadow says nothing in return about that. Reaching down he grabs a hold of the male by his collar. "Who's he?"
"Good question. Someone sent him after me." Looking around, he takes a step back. "I have to put this fire out. Stand back."
Shadow could feel the shift in the air as energy drew into Sabin's body. Airblades rip through the sky from the man's sweeping arm gestures; slicing through the trees, dragging powerful winds with them. The fire is snuffed out like someone blowing candles on a birthday cake, loud 'poofs' sound through the air annoucing the end of each flame. Holding his chest, Sabin kneels.
"What's wrong?"
"I sort of over did it today. I just need a rest."
Nodding, Shadow tosses the teen over his shoulder. "I'll tie him up."
"Okay. Let's go inside."
The two, and prisoner, walk back to the cabin. Sabin suddenly shot forward when he noticed the smoke. It couldn't be... there's just no way... But it was true. Master Duncan's home- his home- ...has burned to the ground.