A/N: Phew! Got this done! I almost forgot about my self-imposed deadline when I found this disturbingly good manga and read it like crazy.
I'm almost done setting the stage. Huzzah! Give me two chapters... three at tops.
Notes on my livejournal account!
Enjoy!
Chapter 5
Dark magic was a most ingenious force. It wasn't just a tool like anima or light magic, if anything, it was a partner to the wielder – a very jealous and gluttonous companion that endlessly consumes whatever's on its way. Not everyone could master such an entity – if it didn't end up dominating them – and only one person in history had ever remained the same after exploring the complexities of elder magic, and he wasn't even aware of just how fortunate he was when he didn't lose his very being the moment he had unknowingly gambled his life during his explorations towards the depths of one of the most untamed forces known beorc and laguz alike. Few known forces could overpower elder magic, and one of the more recognized ones was pure chaotic energy.
Did elder magic care if the boy was king or peasant? It did not – not in the slightest. Nevertheless, Prince Pelleas was the first person to have conquered dark magic without being twisted by it in some way. He wasn't even aware of specters trying to dive right into his soul as he sat peacefully in his modest room at the ruins of the Desert of Death. More and more dark ghost wanted to gain entrance into the heir of Daein's throne with every word he mentally read from his dark tome, but they were always unsuccessful and that wasn't about to change.
When Prince Pelleas flipped a page of his leather-covered tome, the mark in his forehead began to glow and slightly burn. He closed his tome and shot up a hand to his forehead in order to soothe the scorching sensation. The boy knew he had to stop reading whenever that happened. It saddened him to halt his studies, but he knew better than to disobey Eos, his guardian spirit – and saviour. He didn't know that Eos had saved his life on countless occasions since he could not properly communicate with the spirit, or that mastering elder magic came at a great cost to a mage's sanity. Yet it was thanks to Eos that Pelleas was able to stay the same person he was before studying the arcane arts, and to become a powerful sage without ever having to set foot in a battlefield, although Pelleas credited most of his rapid success with magic to Sir Soldat.
Pelleas got up from his chair and gently placed his tome, Verrine, on top of his simple desk. It bothered him to see his wooden desk filled with only one book. Was he not of noble blood? Surely there should've been plenty of work for him to do – even if he was a novice. But there was never anything for him to do, and there was even less tasks for him to perform every time someone joined his cause. Izuka handled everything related to politics, General Tauroneo had become consumed with planning and strategizing for the upcoming war for liberation, Sir Soldat scouted the desert every single day to ensure they were safe, and Jill and Zihark left on a very important mission – according to General Tauroneo. Pelleas was starting to believe that he was only useful for calming his mother whenever she felt lonely.
That's why I'm studying dark magic, Pelleas thought with a sense of resolve. Even though he was born with natural talent for the arcane arts, the truth was that he had never touched a single magical artifact until Lord Izuka had tasked Sir Soldat with his immediate protection during the first months of Pelleas finding out the truth about his heritage. At first Soldat wanted to just entertain the boy, so he bought him a few thunder tomes and taught him only the basics of spell-casting. It took Pelleas three days to do what so many couldn't do in years. Pelleas was able to cast thunder spells just as well as Zihark could swing a sword.
Sir Soldat didn't show his surprise in a way Pelleas had expected. Soldat had been scared out of his wits when he witnessed Pelleas' remarkable progress. He had begged the Prince of Daein not to say a word to Izuka about learning magic from him. Soldat smuggled a few of Master Izuka's dark tomes in return for his silence. Pelleas felt very guilty for keeping secrets from the man that had rescued him from certain death in the streets of Nevassa, but he wanted to prove to others – but mostly to himself – that he was a competent man. And Prince Pelleas dared to hope that he might be able to impress Sir Soldat - once he returns – to perhaps ask Lord Izuka to allow him fight alongside the soldiers.
Although the thought of fighting in a war made Pelleas sick to his stomach, a small part of him still wanted to try. His father, King Ashnard, had commanded the loyalty and respect of the masses because he would cast aside his status and place himself amongst the men and women in the frontlines. Pelleas hoped to gain the love of his subjects as quickly as possible, and he was willing to risk his life to obtain it if it came to that.
Pelleas sat on the edge of his single bed with white sheets, and slumped his shoulders in exhaustion. He wished the cause of his weary state would be from working tirelessly in Daein's liberation or reconstruction, but he was simply in his room with tomes as his only company.
Pelleas was so very lonely. Even when he was with his mother, Lady Almedha, he felt alone. He just couldn't quite relate to her in anything – and it sometimes felt as if she wasn't fully there. Most people would've gone mad if they went through the amount of loneliness Pelleas experienced on a daily basis, but Pelleas knew a far harsher fate – one with abusive strangers on the streets.
Pelleas heard voices from outside his room before he could throw himself back to try to sleep in an attempt to avoid thinking of his lack of company. One of the voices was unmistakably Soldat, and it seemed he was leading the other speaker farther away from his position as the voices grew distant in a matter of seconds. Curiosity getting the better of the young prince, Pelleas got up and exited his room as fast as he could.
Once outside, Pelleas noticed that the second speaker was female – it sounded like Jill - … and that Soldat was shouting at her.
"… and that partner of yours, where is he?"
Pelleas couldn't hear Jill's reply as he slowly neared their position.
"Please enlighten me with the knowledge of who gave you permission to leave?" The closer Pelleas got, the more agitated Soldat sounded. Jill remained silent. "You won't respond, girl? You're lucky you haven't been charged with conspiracy and treason, but mark my words, Lady Fizzart, that is something I intend to rectify!"
"You-you can't do that." Pelleas was close enough to hear Jill.
The young prince of Daein already knew where they were. It was the room General Tauroneo had recently turned into an armory, although all the weapons were all in crates, making the space of the medium-sized room rather cramped.
"You think our future king won't…"
"Soldat!" Pelleas exclaimed, something that obviously shock both Jill and Soldat when they turned their attention to Pelleas, who was standing at the doorway that lead to the room they were in.
Soldat's forehead wrinkled the moment he faced Pelleas, making Pelleas lose his sudden burst of confidence. He wanted to tell Soldat to stop threatening Jill Fizzart, and that he would never allow him to have her charged with crimes he did not believe she committed in the past, but the admiration – and fear – he had for both Soldat and Izuka forced Pelleas's words to stay in his throat.
On the other hand, Jill's kind – yet neutral – expression made Pelleas feel more at ease.
"Is the there something you need, Prince Pelleas?" Soldat asked with a challenging tone that Pelleas mistook for irritation.
I need you to leave her alone. He tried to speak, yet the pressure muted him.
"Milord, you must be aware that Lady Fizzart and the hooligan of a swordsman have been shirking their duties," Soldat said. All Pelleas did was shake his head in disagreement. "They abandoned their posts," Soldat continued – completely ignoring the young prince's motion. "Your father had a very effective method to ensure no one would desert…"
"He sent people to hunt them and their families like animals," Jill finished.
"Correction: like sub-humans." He returned his attention back to Jill. "Your father was smart enough to know that, why is it that you're not?"
Jill's hands balled into fists and she clenched her jaw. Pelleas knew the story of General Shiraham's death at the hands of the Crimean Liberation Army, and he was aware that Jill fought for the side that killed her father; meaning he understood just how deep and hurtful Soldat's words were.
Jill's posture eased and she smirked at Soldat before Pelleas had a chance to politely ask Izuka's assistant to leave.
"You're never going to anything if you continue to live in the past," Jill retorted. Soldat looked taken aback by her comment. "The only future for Daein you ever speak of is reviving Ashnard's Daein. I have news for you, Soldat, it's never coming back."
"You treacherous harlot!" Soldat snarled.
"Soldat!" Pelleas called out. Soldat turned his venomous gaze to the young Daein Prince. "It's best if you left," Pelleas whispered.
Soldat grunted in anger, but left nonetheless. It was only when the clanking of Soldat's armour faded away that Pelleas dared to speak again.
"Jill, I'm terribly sorr…"
"Prince Pelleas, please accept my apology!" Jill was bowing. Such gesture made Pelleas uncomfortable. He had bowed to just about every lowlife that had terrorized him in his life, so to him, bowing to someone was out of fear and not respect.
"There's no need for you to apologize." He clumsily gestured Jill to straighten up, which she did. "I should be the one to apologize for my," Pelleas paused to choose the correct word to describe Soldat, "vassal's behaviour." It felt foreign to the Daein prince's lips to call someone else his subject or servant.
"Thank you for your kindness, Your Majesty." She bowed her head quickly.
Thank you for your kindness? Pelleas thought that he was intimidating the wyvern-rider if she would thank him for showing a little kindness.
"I mean you no harm, Jill. And all the things Soldat said will not happen," Pelleas said nervously.
"Your Majesty, I know you mean well." She raised an eyebrow.
"But the way you have addressed me, it sounded as if you expect me to scold you."
"I have pledge my allegiance to you, I'm simply being respectful, like a good soldier would. Aren't you used to it with Soldat and Izuka using an honorific to address you, Milord." Though Pelleas had always ignored it, he had noticed traces of mock in Izuka's tone and pity from Soldat's.
"It's different with them, Jill." He scratched the back of his head. "They're a bit more informal than you or General Tauroneo." Pelleas let out a queasy laugh in an attempt to lighten the mood, but Jill's expression turned into a stern one.
"Your Majesty, would you allow me to tell you a story my father told me?" Jill petitioned.
"Um, please do."
She cleared her throat before speaking. "My father had once served Begnion as the commander of the Holy Dracoknights, as special force created for the purpose of protecting the senate whenever they were in Sienne. He told me stories of how cruel and corrupted the senators were, especially the Duke of Gaddos. But amongst those evil men were two good ones, Duke Sephiran of Persis and Duke Hetzel of Asmin."
Jill paused and looked at Prince Pelleas. She seemed unsure if she should continue the story. "Please, go on," Pelleas said, interested in the tale.
"Duke Persis continuously opposed the senate, but Duke Asmin was not as strong. My father told me that Hetzel started to go along with whatever the other senators did. It was obvious to everyone that he did not want to be doing the things he was doing, and eventually, everyone lost all respect for the man..."
"I see." Pelleas looked down, completely understanding why Jill had shared a story.
"Prince Pelleas!" He looked up. Jill visibly swallowed hard. "It's hard to admire and serve someone that allows others to disrespect him."
"Thank you, Jill. I will think about what you've said." As if his legs had a mind of their own, he walked out of the armoury without noticing it himself.
Pelleas knew he had a long way to go, but Jill's words had showed him what a poor start he's had into becoming a monarch. He wanted to find General Tauroneo, for he surely knew the needed qualities to help him become a good king.
XXXX
The Wolf Queen of Hatari couldn't help but feel nostalgia as she ran a hand across the bronze-coloured brick walls of the ruins she was in. She sniffed some of the dust that had gathered on her palm, and the smell resembled the scent from the mud bricks used in Hatari's architecture. It was all too similar. She wondered if her country had once been much larger, or if her people had mimicked another civilization's style. Unfortunately, Nailah knew she would never get the answer. Many historical documents – as well as all of the wolf elders – had been lost in the great flood. And from what Rafiel had told her, the wolf laguz were thought to be a myth by the few laguz of the beast tribe that heard of them.
"My Queen, is something wrong?" asked her gentle companion.
Where should I begin? Nailah mentally scolded herself for letting that thought slip by. Thankfully, when she looked at the Rafiel, it did not seem like he had read her thoughts. She didn't want him to worry. Rafiel continued to wait patiently for an answer with a serene expression on his gentle features. Nailah cleared her mind of her worries and focused her vision – with her one eye - on the blonde heron.
"I was just thinking of how similar these ruins are to the buildings we have back home." Nailah knew it was impossible to lie to Rafiel. No matter how many mental defences she would put up, he could always pick up on dishonesty. That's why she gave him a truthful answer to a question he didn't ask.
Rafiel looked up. "I think you might be right. I hadn't noticed." "
"My people might have built this place, or they could've been inspired by the people who did."
"I see, but it's has a few differences," he said as he tugged the front of his heavy white robes. It was then that the queen of wolves noticed he was starting to sweat.
"This place has no windows and it's heavily fortified by far too many walls. This might've been a fortress or a castle." Nailah shook her head. "We have never needed to build something like this."
"It's not our nature to encase ourselves in this manner." Rafiel looked like he was going to sigh, but he didn't do something so ungraceful. "But the beorc forced us."
"You once told me that all the laguz countries had beorc-like castles."
Rafiel nodded. "I never saw Castle Goldoa, but I remember Castle Gallia being very formidable.
Nailah was relieved that Rafiel got distracted. She didn't like keeping secrets from him, but it was for the best. Troubling developments had made Nailah consider the option of going back to her country – with Rafiel, of course. And she didn't want him to know that they might be forced to return until she had exhausted all of her options.
Someone... or something dangerous lurked on the desert, and Nailah was willing to break her promise to the Prince of Serenes if that is what it took to keep him safe.
"My Queen?"
"Yes?"
"Is Volug alright?" He asked with concern.
Nailah smirked. Leave it to him to worry more about my subject than I have. "Don't worry about him." She waved a hand dismissively. "He has a shrewd mind to compensate for his lack of experience.
"He has been gone for an awfully long time."
Nailah's ear twitched. "He just arrived." But a lot of the other beasts are missing. "Wait here, Rafiel."
"I want to accompany you," he pleaded.
"I'd rather not have you near those thugs." It was her polite way of telling him that he couldn't come.
"They're just afraid of something."
I should've known he would pick up on what's happening from them. "They're bound to do something rash if something's worrying them."
"Very well." Nailah liked how Rafiel never pushed a subject for very long. And Nailah was always grateful for his understanding when it came to her overprotective nature.
Nailah left Rafiel alone in a room where she knew he would be safe; because she would make sure no one would use the hallways until she returned to his side.
"You damn dog! Why won't you speak?" Nailah recognized the brutish voice of Agony, a tiger laguz that left a very bad first impression on Nailah. She hoped that he was just scum, and that the others were much better than him.
The Wolf Queen arrived in the room where Agony and his band of thieves kept their many piles of treasure. She was force to squint a little due to the intense brightness that came from the various golden objects, such as coins and cups.
"The Butcher got away because of you!" Agony was about to grab Volug's neck when Nailah spoke up.
"Do I need to teach you a lesson as well?" The seven untransformed laguz that had gathered around Volug flinched in fear when they heard her voice. They all looked at her. "You're not stupid enough to make the same mistake he did." Nailah crossed her arms and tilted her head to the side, pointing at a corner where a petrified tiger laguz stood laid in an attack position.
"If dog had spoken, then we would've killed the Butcher." Nailah gave Agony a death glare, scaring him enough to silence him. He probably thought she was going to turn him to stone as well.
"Come with me, Volug," Nailah said to Volug in the ancient language.
Volug made himself visible to Nailah by sliding through the pack of thugs. He was untransformed like the rest of them, and fortunately, he was also unharmed. Her brown-haired vassal stood strong, tall and proud... as always.
"To think you do that so well with just one eye. Maybe you could've turned stone to flesh if you still had both eyes."
Nailah shook her head. That was a bad sign. Volug always hid his worries under remarks such as those.
"That bad, huh?" Nailah looked at the others. "Stay put," she said menacingly. Some of them looked as stiff the laguz she had actually petrified.
For the sake of privacy, Nailah led Volug far away. "Did you see this 'Butcher'?"
He shook his head. "No. I think you're right about him; he's avoiding us in particular. I didn't even see him."
She raised an eyebrow. "You didn't see him? Did he just disappear?"
"Literally," he answered seriously.
"What does he want?" They hadn't even reached civilization and they already had a tough obstacle to deal with.
"Agony and his band of misfits think he's after their treasure, but he's actually just after them."
"What do you mean?"
"You've noticed we're short of twenty?" She nodded. "There's no trace of fourteen of the missing ones... and..." He shuddered intensely.
"Volug?"
"Six of them fought him, and they died." He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. "We found them sliced apart. A lot of organs were missing."
Volug was shaking angrily with gritted teeth. "Do you think we should head back?"
"This bastard needs to die," he whispered. In all the years they had known each other, Nailah had never seen him lose his calm and expressionless composure.
She had reached a decision. "We're leaving."
"To Hatari?"
"To Gallia."
"But he's still out there."
"You said he avoided you, correct?" Volug nodded. "He's obviously a coward that won't attack a foreign creature. It's better to leave before he gets braver."
"What about them." He pointed at the group of beast laguz that were waiting for her.
"I wanted to see if they could be our escorts to Gallia, but I won't risk them attracting the 'Butcher' to our position."
His eyes widened in surprise. "We're abandoning them?
Though Agony and his crew were the farthest thing from a group of innocent victims, a small part of Nailah had wanted to help them. Nevertheless, Rafiel and their mission was far more important; important enough to maybe stop men like that "Butcher" from existing
"I'm leaving their fates in the hands of the Goddess," she said solemnly.
XXXX
Zihark leaned closer to me as we trekked across the sunny dunes of the Desert of Death. "Nephenee," he whispered, "why does your friend keep staring at me?"
I looked at Meg, who was on Zihark's left and I on his right. She was really staring at him, and her stare felt... blunt.
"I think she wants to marry ya," I whispered back.
He chuckled softly. "I didn't know you had a sense of humour."
I was being serious. In fact, I was there when Brom told Meg that she would marry the nice, smart and handsome mercenary he met during the war. I remember laughing a little in disbelief. Not only had one of his daughters gotten married that day, but he decided to plan the next wedding right after the bride and groom kissed. I think Meg and Brom planned everything on the next day, and the only thing missing was the groom, who was only a thousand miles away and involved in a dangerous group that sought to overthrow the most powerful country from their land. Then I decided to help out as well – with Meg following me.
I noticed something odd in Zihark's statement. "Wait, you thought I was not funny?"
"Oh, I did not say that. We just thought that you were very serious because you were always quiet." He looked alarmed and worried that I had felt hurt by his comment.
"Papa says that she's too shy for her own good, and afraid of men," Meg annoyingly added.
I glared at Meg. "T-that's not true!"
"One time, this real nice merchant's son proposed to her, and she almost killed him with pitchfork."
My left eye started twitching. "He proposed to my little sister, and was bein' pushy."
Meg shook her head. "I'm talkin' about the last fella that wanted to marry ya. After this guy, everybody just stopped tryin'."
"I don't remember threatenin' that guy... in particular."
"Your mama made you nurse the bruises afterwards." She always made me do that.
Zihark clutched his stomach and started laughing. "I don't think you know this, but Ike stopped Gatrie from getting near you on several occasions."
"She got that way after the war. Before that, she would just hide like a scared little girl," Meg said with a grin.
Calill had that effect on me.
I knew Meg was just being playful and had no intention on ridiculing me, but she was really getting on my nerves. "Please, Meg, drop it."
"Fine." She pouted.
Zihark looked happy that I forgotten that I was questioning him, and though I was still curious about the way people thought of me during the war, I decided not to bring up the subject again... not wanting to provoke Meg into telling more joyous stories about my past.
Though I was never much of a talker, I thought it was best to continue on with some conversation rather than enjoy the sandy scenery before me or think of my growing thirst – even though talking would make me even thirstier.
"Um, Zihark," I began, "I reckon it's safe to tell us about whatever it is you're doing here."
"I guess it is, but before that." He reached inside his light coat and pulled two small canteens. "We're almost there, and you're sounding a little dry." He handed Meg and I the canteens.
I popped the top out and took a hesitant sip. The water's clean?
"How did you get clean water from that town?" I asked with bewilderment.
He pointed at the steel lance that was strapped to by back. "I managed to haggle it from the smith who sold me your lance."
"I promise to pay ya back," I said for the seventh with my head down.
He smiled. "Don't worry about it. The smith gave me a really good deal."
"But..."
"We'll be even if you use it to trounce some Begnion soldiers." I would've settled for a broomstick, even though I would've only be able to whack people with just that.
I took another sip of water, and though it was warm, it still brought a cooling sensation to my mouth.
Zihark cleared his throat. "Jill and I are serving under Ashnard's son in hopes of ascending him to the throne."
The shock from hearing what Zihark said made me cough wildly after forcing down my water. "What!" I managed in between coughs. "The Mad King had a son?"
"Trust me when I say this, he is nothing like his father. He's practically Ashnard's opposite," Zihark said calmly.
I let out a sigh. "That's a relief." I knew I could trust Zihark's judgment. I was actually a little embarrassed for having reacted the way I did.
"I don't think we've heard of that man having a son," Meg added in.
"It's similar to Queen Elincia's story."
"Convenient," I said
"I thought the same thing," Zihark agreed.
Out of nowhere, we heard a loud pained howl rip through the air, and the faint echoes of clashing steel came from the opposite direction. Zihark signaled us towards the direction of the clashing steel, and started sprinting in that direction. Meg and I quickly followed him.
A/N: *Sigh*
Okay, I decided to cut the action from this chapter and just bundle it all into one chapter. I don't know how long the next chapter will be, but I wanted to have all the action in the next chapter to try and include a bunch of POVs. I'll see how that goes down.