This time around, I really wanted to release a new chapter not long after the one before. But the words didn't come out well onto the computer screen! I guess that's to be expected after taking such a huge break from writing.
Morroc Orphanage, Morning
"And so, children," Daphne said to the orphans gathered on the floor of the dining room. "I'll be leaving for a little while. I have something to take care of."
"B... but," one black haired orphan boy said. "How long will you be gone?"
"I don't know, Henry," she admitted. "As long as it takes. Once I'm finished, I'll be back as soon as I can."
The orphans looked at each other confusedly. They looked a little lost.
"But why?" another child said.
Daphne paused, searching for the right words. She doubted that the orphans would be able to understand the current political complication that only she would be able to unravel.
"So that all of you can live happily in the future!" she smiled simply.
The orphans seemed to understand this, but none of them seemed too thrilled. Daphne knew, if she had said those words on her first day working at the orphanage, she would not have understood the generally disappointed reaction from the children. But after having stayed at the orphanage for a few days, she was beginning to understand how these children thought. They weren't thinking about the future. They were thinking about the present; about surviving for the rest of the day. Promises that were yet to come didn't hold much weight if these children could be dead the next day.
"How about we try something fun?" Daphne said, kneeling down. "Why don't we take turns telling everyone what they want to be when they grow up?"
As expected, she was greeted with a general silence. If only they had a little nudge...
"I... I want to be a teacher when I grow up!" Rachel said loudly, standing up suddenly. Her fists were balled at her sides and she glared at the other children as if daring them to challenge those words. She pointed at Henry, who recoiled slightly. "What about you?"
"U-uh... I dunno," he mumbled. "I'm just worried about what I'll eat today..."
"Then be a chef!" she said. "That way you can make your own food!" Henry seemed surprised by this new concept. Rachel pointed to a girl her own age who was holding a tattered teddy bear with an X for its mouth.
"What about you?"
The girl hugged her teddy bear tighter.
"...I want to make dresses," she said quietly, daring to say those words. One by one, the orphans took turns sharing their hidden aspirations. Dreams long forgotten and squashed were forced out from the dredges of their memories, trickling out slowly and painfully.
Leaning against the far wall of the dining room with his arms crossed, Argos watched impassively as the orphans shared their forgotten hopes. His mouth twitched with irritation.
"Why don't you join in?" Spider asked quietly. Argos glared at his senior partner.
"Are you kidding?" he said. "What's the point of an assassin having a dream?"
"Even you have one, right? What was it... becoming an assassin cross so you can kill a certain man."
Argos snorted.
"Sure," he said. "That'll go great with the kids; they can related to that."
Spider chuckled quietly.
"I'm kidding, sport. You need to lighten up."
Pronteran Embassy
Elsewehere in the Pronteran Embassy in Morroc, Chevalier Paladin Graves was telling his small squadron of knights and crusaders his intentions for departure, not unlike the one Daphne told the orphans. They seemed as lost as the children had been, but none of them raised any objections. The general mood seemed almost mutinous, save for Reinbach, standing behind the paladin.
"Sir," Caitlin Margaret saluted. "With all due respect, Daphne Trenton is right under our noses. It would be a simple matter of escorting her by force to the Pope."
"Return to the capital," Grant repeated. "Those will be my final orders for you."
All of the riders understood what "final" meant. For an officer to disobey the Pope's orders meant his position would be immediately stripped the moment the Pope received word.
"I won't ask any of you to come with me," the paladin said. "Neither will I hold it against you. What I'll be doing from now on will have a very high mortality rate."
"What about Reinbach?" Ozworth asked.
"He volunteered to come with me," answered Grant. "Don't worry about him." Behind the paladin, Reinbach looked away, unable to meet the gazes of his fellow knights and crusaders.
"Sir," Weiss said. "It would only be a matter of a simple order; all of us will follow you to death if need be."
"There's a difference between loyalty and throwing away your life," Grant told the crusader. "Don't follow orders blindly and try to look at things with an objective view."
"Reinbach!" another knight said loudly. "Oy! Say something!"
The paladin took off the rosary from his wrist and handed it to Margaret. "Deliver this to my fiance," he said. "She will understand what it means."
"...Is this an order?" the pale-blonde woman asked slowly.
"It's a request," Grant said. "I hope that you will follow it. The next time we meet will probably be on the battlefield, as enemies."
"Hey are you for real?!" Ozworth interjected. "Not too long ago we were traveling as companions!"
Images of the desert sands basking in the fading sun flashed through Reinbach's mind. Riders on pecos, laughing, reminiscing, fighting side by side.
Grant sighed. "Unfortunately, this is the reality of politics, Ozworth. You can say those pretty words, but pretty words won't change reality." The paladin looked somewhat disheartened saying this.
"Kristoph!" Ozworth shouted, facing Reinbach next. "This isn't funny! What happened to convincing Daphne to come with us peacefully?!"
"It's as Sir Graves said," Reinbach said through clenched teeth, looking down. "Pretty words won't change reality."
"WHY DID PERCEUS DIE?" Ozworth roared. "ARE YOU SAYING HE DIED FOR NOTHING?"
"Ozworth!" Weiss clamped his gloved hand on the knight's shoulder. "That's enough."
"I can't accept this," the knight gritted his teeth together. He reached into his bag and pulled out a Zweihander in its sheath and tossed it to Reinbach. "It's Perceus's sword. So you don't forget who he is and what he stood for."
It was a somewhat heavy weight in Reinbach's hands, but the knight took it without complaint and fastened the sheath to his back on a bandoleer. The Zweihander would throw off his balance if he wasn't too careful with his footing.
"Well then," Grant said. "We've idled here long enough." He and Reinbach turned and left for the exit of the embassy.
"There's no need for me to say this, but you should understand anyways," Margaret said to the two. "If we meet in battle don't expect us to hold back."
"We made this decision knowing that," Grant said over his shoulder. "Goodbye." They left the building.
Morroc streets
"Reinbach," the paladin said as he and Reinbach walked along the main street of Morroc. "There's something I think you should know."
"What is it?"
"Remember the time I told you how a weapon conforms to the user?"
"Yes, sir."
"It would be in your best interests if you didn't use that Zephyrus from now on."
"W-what?" Reinbach froze in his tracks.
"I'm serious," Grant said. "Did you not think it was strange when you were able to enter the berserk state? Only lord knight should be capable of doing such a thing."
"Then... how?"
"You recall Alexei Volkov right? He had possession of your Zephyrus for a night."
Reinbach's eyes widened in realization.
"Are you saying... that my Zephyrus conformed to him while he was berserked?"
"And most likely that Zephyrus picked up an impression of the berserk state," Grant nodded. "It's not one hundred percent certain, but it's the only way you could have learned the berserk state, that I know of. Let's continue walking."
"Then," Reinbach went on, striding to catch up to Grant. "I suppose it's a good thing I have Perceus's Zweihander."
"Even then, you need to keep up your guard at all times," the paladin warned. "Just as a weapon conforms to the user, the user conforms to the weapon. Now that you've actually fallen into berserk once, any time you lose control of your emotions, you're vulnerable to falling into it again, regardless of the weapon you are holding."
The two of them reached the town center of Morroc. The Morroc town center was as busy as ever, full of commerce, merchants and civilians. To the east lay the street leading to the suburbs where the orphanage was.
"Sir," Reinbach started. "I believe the only reason why I managed to drive off that stalker last night was because I fell into the berserk state. If I hadn't –"
"That's true," Grant said. "If you hadn't, you and that Argos lad wouldn't be alive right now. But the berserk state isn't an advantage. Especially not for you."
"What do you mean?"
"The thing most important to you is probably... protecting Daphne Trenton," the paladin said. Reinbach looked away awkwardly; Grant was spot on. "But falling into the berserk state won't grant you the power to do that. And on top of that, being berserked means you have explosive strength and speed, but in return, you lose all mind for defense. Remember when you first met Volkov? You couldn't lay a finger on him."
Reinbach remained silent.
"And in your second encounter with him, you were able to injure his shoulder because he was in the berserk state. Do you see now?'
"...Yes," the knight admitted.
"What it basically means is that Volkov doesn't need - no, Volkov is better off fighting you without the berserk state."
"So in other words, the only time I should use the berserk state is when I have absolutely nothing left to lose."
Grant shot a critical look at Reinbach. "You shouldn't be thinking like that, but let's hope that it never comes down to that."
They reached the street leading to the orphanage. A bench near the entrance of the street had been the agreed upon rendezvous point.
"We're supposed to wait for them here," Grant said. He looked around, scanning the crowd around them for faces.
Morroc Orphanage
Spider rummaged through his traveling bag, taking inventory of the supplies he would need while traveling.
"Smokescreen," he muttered. "...Throwing knives... I'm running low on those... poison bottles... antidotes... painkillers... Hey sport."
Argos was busy examining his icicle katars.
"...What?"
"You need anything from the smithy?" he asked. "I'm headed there to pick up some throwing knives."
"Yeah," Argos stood up from his chair. "These icicle katars are about to break. I need them fixed."
"Well we can't do anything about them now," Spider said. "It'll take at least a day for any smith to fix a weapon, and we're supposed to rendezvous in an hour."
"We're supposed to rendezvous right now," Argos corrected. Spider blinked.
"Oh hell. Is that right?"
"Yes. Weren't you minding the time?"
"I was. I just got the meeting time mixed up. Well then, can't be helped. We just have to leave now."
Argos nodded. "Hey, I was wondering," he said.
"Talk while walking," Spider said, standing up. He headed for the door of the orphanage.
"Is it okay to leave Daphne behind like this?"
"Not really. But we don't have a choice. We have to do something about her wound first before we start traveling. Is that what you wanted to ask?"
"No. I wanted to know what... what's the best way to defeat an enemy who attacks faster and harder than you?"
"That's simple," Spider answered. As they passed a fruit stand, an orange mysteriously appeared in his hands. "Retreat and attack from behind when their guard is down."
"Well... what if that's not an option?" the younger assassin asked.
"In your case?" the assassin cross mused. "There's nothing. You'd be dead."
Argos fell silent. He felt that Spider was purposely dancing around the real question he wanted to ask.
"You don't have to worry about enemies out of your league," Spider said. "While we're partners, leave assassin crosses, stalkers, and those types to me."
"What do you do if you're the one facing someone who's stronger and faster than you?"
"I poison myself," Spider said seriously.
"What?"
The older man reached into his bag and pulled out a skull-shaped glass bottle filled with red liquid.
"This poison here is fatal to the normal human," he said. "One sniff of this is potent enough to knock some people unconcious. When I'm in a pinch, I'll drink this poison and –"
"Why would you want to do that?"
"Relax, sport, I'm getting there. Once I drink this poison, or any assassin cross drinks it, for that matter, we have a certain time limit before we're unable to move. In that time period, we're granted an increase in battle performance to the point where our muscles break down."
"What happens after that?"
"We fall unconcious, and wake up after a while. The time period of the boost and the time period of the after-effects vary from person to person. Assassin crosses are able to drink this without dying because of the immunity-building steps we take during training." Spider eyed his junior partner. "Needless to say, if a regular assassin tried this, he would definitely die. That's why," he stopped and ruffled Argos's hair. "You shouldn't get any ideas."
Suddenly, a huge explosion rocked the street they were walking along from a couple of houses down. Thick black smoke billowed skyward from the wreckage of what was formerly a house as rubble rained down on the street. The surviving citizens, too shocked to scream in terror, gaped in silence at the scene of destruction.
"ARGOS!" Spider shouted. "Get away from here!"
"It won't make much of a difference," a woman's voice said somewhere in the midst of the rubble. "I'll end up killing him no matter where he is."
Argos narrowed his eyes in an attempt to focus his eyesight on the woman's figure through the smoke.
"The guild leader is disappointed, Spider," the woman continued. "First you failed to finish the job that your partner couldn't, and then you failed to finish your partner. No amount of reasoning will be an adequate excuse for your actions."
"The Assassins Guild's ranked fourth assassin cross... It's been a while, Raal," Spider greeted. "How pleasant it is to meet you here."
"You and your silver tongue," the female assassin cross said. "You should be careful; the more you charm me, the more I want to blow you up." She stepped out of the smoke.
Raal was a striking, caramel-skinned woman in her late twenties. A red painted dot sat in the center of her forehead and a semi-transparent veil covered the lower half of her face. Her smooth black hair was tied back in a ponytail that reached her lower back.
"Flashy as ever," Spider said. "You were always one for making an entrance with gimmicky tricks."
"I'll take that as a compliment, but unfortunately, I'm not into younger men," she responded. She pulled out a small hand mirror and began applying red eyeshadow on her eyelids. "And you should know very well, most assassin crosses need to have some sort of outlet to release our pent up stress or we'll go crazy." The woman brushed dust and small pieces of rubble from her black uniform.
"Who the hell are you?" Argos demanded.
"Oh my, didn't you hear me?" Raal chided, appraising the assassin with a critical look. "I said I'm not interested in younger men." She began painting her nails next, examining the cherry red finish. "I like your eyes, but I can't say the same for your manners. If you were listening earlier, you would have heard. I'm the fourth strongest assassin cross of the Assassins Guild. You don't have to introduce yourself though. A little brat like you isn't worth remembering."
Within the blink of an eye, Argos shifted into an attacking stance, gripping his Drill Katars tightly. Spider held out his hand, blocking his junior partner from rushing forward.
"Don't think you can take her by yourself, sport," he said. "She's an assassin cross like I am. Even I'll have some trouble facing her."
"It's nice to know I'm held in high regard," Raal said, carefully placing her nail polish back into her hip-sack. "But let's cut the chit-chat here and get on with it, shall we?"
Without even grabbing the Loki's Nail katars that hung on her belt, Raal dashed forward and bare-handedly swiped at Argos's neck.
"WATCH IT!" Spider cried. He shoved Argos out of Raal's arm's length.
"Good intuition," the woman commented. "He would have died if I broke his skin."
"Poisoned nail polish?" Argos exclaimed. As much as he hated to admit it, Raal's strategy was quite sly. At the cost of reducing her own attack range, she increased her own attacking speed by ridding herself the need of carrying a katar's weight, all without losing an ounce of deadliness.
That can't be all, Spider thought, his mind racing. She can't block attacks like that; no one can block an attack with their bare-hands. "Stay on your guard, kid!" he shouted. "She's got another ace in the hole!"
As if on cue, Raal threw at their feet what looked like a small red crystal from her hands. As soon as the gem touched the ground, it cracked in two, spewing out hazy purple smoke.
A red gem, Argos noted. Used by wizards and assassins as a catalyst for certain spells and effects... in this case, a poison based skill, Venom Dust! The young assassin exhaled before of any of the poison gas could enter his lungs and leaped backwards.
"That's not all!" shouted the woman. She thrust her palm downwards, directly onto the cracked halves of the red gem. A violet shockwave erupted along the ground from her hand, forcing the poison gas to spread outward. Spider slammed his own palm into the ground in turn, creating another shockwave to neutralize the first. Cracks in the dusty pavement spiderwebbed out from the epicenter of the counterattack.
Mixing Venom Dust with Meteor Assault... Spider thought. I've never heard of such a battle style! Where did this fighting style come from? She didn't have it last time I saw her fight! "Cloak yourself now, Argos!" He reached into the cowl of his cloak and pulled up a dark mask that clung to his mouth and nose.
His partner scowled. "Tch, fine." Grabbing a handful of his cloak, he threw the edge over his body and disappeared from sight as his body shimmered into nothingness.
"Not manly at all," Raal said in a bored voice. "Running away at the first sign of something unfamiliar?" She flung a handful of red gems to the spot on the ground where Argos was last visible; they cracked open, spewing out purple smoke. "Cloaking is useless in smoke!"
It was true. As Argos looked down at the ground where his feet should have been invisible. The absence of smoke around his ankles made it clear where he was standing.
"Those gems are filled with a special type of poison created from my blood," Raal said, flinging more of the red gems towards Spider. "I'm immune to it. But you two, on the other hand... I wonder how long you can hold your breaths?"
Spider, who had somehow managed to catch the thrown red gems a second earlier, froze in his own throwing stance, and disappointedly threw them behind him. "Well, there goes any plans of using them back on you," he muttered. The man shoved his hands into his hip sack and grabbed a handful of throwing knives. With a flick of his wrists, Spider slung the knives towards the other assassin cross and snatched his Inverse Scare katars from his waist. In response, Raal grabbed her Loki's Nail katars.
By now, the street was filled with the hazy purple smoke from Raal's red gems. Argos saw no point in staying in the street; even while cloaking, he couldn't completely disappear in smoke. He jumped to the rooftops and took a fresh breath of air.
"Running away is useless too; I know you're on the rooftops!" Raal shouted while exchanging furious, quick katar slashes with Spider. "I'll take care of you once I'm finished with him!"
Argos glanced behind him; indeed, lingering wafts of the poison gas connecting him to the purple cloud below betrayed his position on the rooftop tiles. He cursed and sprinted to the side as Raal lobbed a handful of red gems in his general location.
"That's if you manage to finish me off," Spider countered, switching to his Silver Shotels and attacking once more. The other assassin cross hastily jumped backwards to place some distance between them.
"As expected of the assassin cross Spider," Raal complimented, wiping the newly formed shallow cut across her cheek. "Eight blades, like eight spider's legs, capable of switching between them in the heat of battle."
"Sorry to disappoint, but I only have seven today," he said.
"But still," she scowled. "Making a scratch on a lady's face... unforgivable! Why couldn't you have aimed for my body!?"
...I don't want to lose to this bimbo, Argos thought.
Spider shrugged apologetically. "Sorry, sweetheart. All's fair in love and war."
"I was hoping to save this until later, but you've gone and made me very angry," Raal sighed. She pulled out an unlit wooden match from her hip sack. Spider stepped back in alarm.
"Y-You wouldn't!" he spluttered.
Morroc Town Center, five minutes earlier
Grant and Reinbach turned their head sharply to the sound of the explosion.
"That wasn't the orphanage, was it?" the paladin asked sharply. The knight shook his head.
"It sounded a lot closer than that." He looked at Grant questioningly. Curious civilians slowly crept towards the sound of the explosion, peering down the east street.
"It's unfortunate, Reinbach, but it's unrelated to us," Grant shook his head. "We need to stay here and wait for those two. Let Morroc deal with her own problems."
"Excuse me?" a young woman's voice asked, in a slight Payon accent. "Might you two be Sir Graves and Sir Reinbach?"
A pretty, brown haired dancer was looking in their direction, seeming slightly unsure. She appeared to be in her late teens. Behind her stood a brown haired man in his mid twenties, staring Grant and Reinbach with unnerving calmness.
"Ah." Grant said, turning to face the dancer. "You must be Eurie and Nicholas. I'm Grant Graves, and this is Kristoph Reinbach." He held out his hand, but Eurie ignored it. In her place, Nicholas took the paladin's hand and shook it silently.
"Who are they?" Reinbach asked. The dancer looked over to the knight and gave him a friendly smile.
"I am Eurie; the man standing behind me is my brother Nicholas. We're to be your guides while you travel to Comodo!"
"You mean, we weren't meeting with Spider and Argos here?" Reinbach asked to Grant.
"Uh, yes," the paladin said, looking slightly flustered. "As those two have never been to Comodo before, we needed someone who knew the way, so I arranged for these guides."
"As you can see," Eurie bubbled. "I am a dancer by profession. My brother, although it is not as obvious, is a clown. You must excuse his silence; he is mute." Nicholas bowed slightly; his tattered brown traveling cloak shifted open as he did so, revealing part of a small silver harp cradled in his arm.
"A mute clown..." Grant muttered under his breath. Eurie bristled slightly at this, but said nothing in response. "As agreed, half of the fee will be paid up front." He held out a small cloth bag, which Nicholas promptly took.
"Shouldn't we be returning to the orphanage?" Reinbach asked. "It's probably nothing, but that explosion earlier made me a little worried."
"I understand that there will be three or four more people traveling with us?" asked Eurie, latching onto Reinbach's arm as they walked.
"Er... yes..." the knight said, taken aback. He looked away, frowning. Whether Eurie noticed this nonverbal cue, she gave no sign, as she continued to hold his arm. "One of whom includes my childhood friend. A girl," Reinbach added. This dancer doesn't get it...
"Oh!" Eurie beamed. "I would like to meet her! Is she about my age?"
"Just about," Grant said. "And if we're lucky, we will have a high priestess traveling with us as well. The other two men went to meet with her."
"High priests are the elite of the Prontera Church, are they not?" Eurie asked excitedly. "This person must be amazing!"
"We need to be careful," Grant said to the others. "If I am guessing correctly, that explosion earlier was right around – " his voice died down.
They were standing in an unusually empty street, devoid of the normally bustling commerce that took place in Morroc from day to day. Up ahead, the air seemed to be clogged with a light purple mist.
"Poison," the paladin said quickly. "Everyone, we need to turn around and find a different route."
"What?" Eurie gasped. "Where? What happened?" She clung tighter to Reinbach, who was looking more and more uncomfortable.
"It's right there, can't you see it?" Reinbach said exasperatedly. He took a couple of steps back, which was quite a feat while someone had a death grip on his arm. "It looks like a lot too," he said. "Let's not waste any more time here."
Light footsteps on the dusty street behind them alerted them to someone's arrival. A high priestess with mouse-brown hair approached them with a concerned look on her face, wringing the fabric of her light blue uniform.
"Cadence!" Grant exclaimed. "You were supposed to meet with Quint!"
"Oh!" she said. "Grant! What are you doing here? It's dangerous."
"The same to you," the paladin said. "Where's Quint?"
The faint ringing of blade clashing against blade permeated through the purple mist.
"It would appear," Cadence sighed. "That he's in the middle of all that poison."
Another set of footsteps approached them rapidly, this time coming from the rooftops above. Kristoph looked about wildly, but he saw no one.
"TAKE COVER!" Argos's voice bellowed. "NOW!"
"What!? Where's Quint?" Grant demanded.
"JUST DO IT!" he roared. The assassin suddenly popped into sight on the rooftop tiles.
The paladin hefted the shield from his back onto his arm and braced his feet. There was nothing in sight that could be used as an impromptu cover for whatever Argos was warning them about.
"Everyone behind me!" the paladin shouted.
"What? What's happening?" Eurie said, panicking. She squawked as Reinbach shoved her behind Grant. The knight himself stood behind the dancer, bracing his feet. There was a scramble as Argos, Cadence and Nicholas hurried to stand behind the paladin.
What appeared before Grant was the largest explosion he had ever seen in his life. Plumes of fire erupted into the air and came scorching down the street as all the purple mist earlier instantly vaporized into flames. He barely had enough time to see the barrier spell that Cadence cast on him spring up, before the fire broke upon his shield. A wave of heat splashed across his body; surely if he had no shield or magic barrier, he would have been burnt to cinders.
After a minute, Grant lifted his head up over the shield. Tongues of flame were flickering along the ground and the walls of the houses, but for the most part, the heat was bearable.
"Is everyone okay?" he asked.
An assortment of voices greeted him in response. They were slightly burnt, but fortunately no one seemed to be hurt.
"It looks like it," Reinbach responded, making a quick headcount. "Hey you," he demanded to Argos. "What happened?"
"An assassin cross sent to kill us happened," Argos said, none too amicably. He looked at Cadence, Eurie and Nicholas. "Who are they?"
"More importantly," Grant interrupted, looking around. "Where's Quint?"
Argos looked at his feet with downcast eyes, pausing slightly.
"He was in the center of that explosion."
ANOTHER CLIFFHANGER!! D: