Chapter 17 – Kidnapping King
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It was nearly midnight when Phisto woke up that night, in his little cabin on the airship.
He sat up in his bed and yawned, groggily wondering where he was, and why Athena wasn't sleeping on her usual perch across from him. Then, slowly, it came back – he and some of the other researchers had flown to Port Tanzia to meet with the local Guild-Master, and his Ice Halk had been left far behind. She was probably in Catry Bones' care right now.
Phisto couldn't help but smile at the thought of his friend. The one who had been by his side all his life, since his monster-hunting days in Loc Lac, all through his wanderings across the continent, and now as a researcher in the Frontier.
But now, it was almost like Phisto's journey had come full circle. He was back in the Moga region, after being absent ever since the Guild-Master of Loc Lac and the visiting Tundra King had decided on banishment being a fitting punishment for the Volvidon incident.
It felt… weird, yet nostalgic. The fresh air of the Mogan coast was a far cry from the desert air he had grown up breathing, but there was still that faint similarity.
Why were they here again? Oh, right – Lumis, the researcher that had disappeared some time ago when he visited the Deserted Island to investigate the possible cause of the hurricane from five years ago. But why was he – the lowly researcher Phisto Docks – here? That's what he had been trying to figure out for the past few days, ever since his report to the Guild-Master about the new bloodsucking monster in the Swamp. Now, it was like that had given him a strange favoritism in the eyes of the elderly Wyverian.
No use wondering about it now, he decided. I'd best get some sleep while I can.
But no matter how hard he tried, sleep simply wouldn't come to him. Half an hour passed before he finally sat up and accepted the fact that he wasn't going back to sleep any time soon. Perhaps being back in the Moga region had made him restless.
"Fresh air," he mumbled, jumping out of bed and reaching for his armor. "I'll go for a walk or something… then I can get to sleep later."
Despite the Docks boy's drowsiness, he changed from his pajamas to his regular clothes reasonably quickly and slapped his Jaggi armor on top of that. He didn't take his Great Sword with him, for obvious reasons, instead leaving it in his cabin as he quietly shut the door behind him.
He had only taken a few steps down the corridor when another door opened.
"Phisto?" asked Caela, sleepily. "What are you doing up?"
Upon seeing the pink-haired Wyverian stepping out of her cabin, Phisto whipped around in shock, his face turning redder than a Hermitaur. She was wearing a white, sleeveless nightgown that looked lovely on her – but then again, Phisto thought she could make anything look lovely.
"C-Couldn't sleep," he stammered out, ducking his head a little. "I-I thought maybe a walk around town would help."
He plucked up the courage to look up at her and saw that she was beginning to smile. He thanked the gods that the corridor was so dark, otherwise his blush would have been visible.
"I couldn't sleep either," Caela confessed. "It's the air, isn't it? So different from that of the Frontier. It's so refreshing that I'm not tired at all."
Before he could stop himself, Phisto added, "The revelation that there are monsters out there turning into people doesn't help."
To his surprise, Caela actually giggled a little at that. It was such a pretty sound.
"Yes, I know what you mean," she told him when she was done laughing. "Wouldn't you agree that it's simply mind-boggling? But it's also so exciting."
Phisto nodded along, momentarily pleased that she shared his innermost thoughts. That was exactly what he felt about the hybrids, once he had gotten past the shock that they existed. Then the moment passed, and he was back to feeling flustered and trying not to let her know it.
"S-Sorry if I've kept you from your sleep," he awkwardly apologized. "I'll j-just be going now."
"You haven't kept me from anything," Caela denied. "In fact, might I accompany you for a while? I think a walk would do me good, too."
For a moment, Phisto could have sworn that his heart was in his mouth. He paused in surprise and came dangerously close to panicking – She wants to go with me oh my gods what do I dooooooooo – before he somehow regained his composure enough for him to get his tongue to do what he wanted.
"Y-Yes – I-I mean, it's no trouble, I'd be happy to w-walk with you," he babbled.
Smooth, his brain criticized him.
The two of them stepped out of the airship and into Port Tanzia proper, and made their way around the deserted streets with no real destination in mind. The stars winked merrily down at them, as if they were happy to have company this late at night. The breeze coming off the land and toward the nearby sea was warm and moist, ensuring that even Caela was comfortable in her thin nightgown.
Occasionally, one of them would bring up a topic of conversation, and they'd chat quietly for a minute or two. But mostly, their walk was done in mutual silence. Phisto found himself at ease, disregarding the fact that he had a huge crush on the young woman next to him. It was so peaceful that at one point, he almost forgot with whom he was strolling.
At last, they took a break on a ledge overlooking the sea. They weren't nearly far enough from the nearest building to be considered on the outskirts, but it was very easy to forget that when all you could see in front of you was ocean and the occasional boat. The breeze was strong up on this ledge, which warmed every bit of exposed skin it touched.
"I can't remember the last time I truly relaxed like this," Caela murmured, not taking her eyes off the endless blue expanse in front of them.
"Neither can I," agreed Phisto. "It seems like everything has happened all at once for me these past few days."
The Wyverian turned her head to examine him while his gaze was still on the sea. He had taken his helmet off, allowing the wind to stir his blonde hair. The way he clutched the Jaggi-skin garment was something that Caela found oddly endearing. Even though he was still, just barely, a teenager, Caela also found herself noticing that he was kind of good-looking.
This boy was the one her grandfather had taken an interest in, she remembered. The Guild-Master was adamant that he was the one that had appeared in his vision several years prior – and although Caela had her doubts about this, she wondered just what was so important about the Docks boy that had caused the Guild-Master to foresee his arrival in Mezeporta.
She supposed that she'd have to wait and see.
By coincidence, Phisto turned to glance at her the moment she went back to staring at the ocean. One brief look at her was all it ever took to make him flush, but illuminated by the silver light of the moon, she was simply stunning. He always admired her soft pink hair, pointed ears, and gentle eyes. His gaze trailed down to her arm, where he couldn't help but notice how the moonlight made her skin gleam like porcelain. Was it as smooth as it seemed?
Phisto blushed harder and tried to find a part of her that he didn't find appealing in some way. He failed miserably, and at last turned away from her entirely so that the heat in his cheeks had the chance to fade away.
"I should go," Caela suddenly broke the peaceful silence. "I think I'll be able to sleep now. But thank you for this, Phisto. I found our time together most enjoyable."
He started abruptly at the sound of her voice, then hastened to put together a respectable reply. "I-I thought it was nice, too. I'll be staying out a bit longer, i-if that's okay."
With a smile, Caela responded, "Don't stay out too long. You can find your way back to the airship on your own?"
He nodded.
"See you tomorrow, then," she said, and stood up.
As she did so, her hand brushed his, and he somehow froze and melted at the same time. It was as smooth as it seemed…
Entranced, Phisto couldn't help but stare unwaveringly after Caela until she had disappeared. If Catry were here, he'd definitely have himself a good laugh at how love-struck Phisto was acting right now.
Minutes crawled by, and Phisto still hadn't budged from his sitting position on the ledge overlooking the calm sea. He sat there unmoving as his thoughts jumped from one thing to another and back again. Soon, though, he realized that the more he sat there thinking, the more tired he was becoming.
Definitely high time I made it back to the airship, Phisto told himself.
Letting out a huff as he rose onto his feet, the Docks boy stretched for a bit before heading back in the direction of the airship. The Guild-Master had docked it near the huge lighthouse, where only distinguished guests of the Tanzian Guild-Master were allowed.
The quickest way to the lighthouse from here was through the tavern, where during the Age of Hunters, all the hunters of Port Tanzia would gather and receive monster-slaying quests that would take them all over the Moga region – much like the tavern that Phisto once frequented with Catry back in his days as a hunter of Loc Lac. The similarity was sufficient to make him a little bit homesick.
However, something seemed off, enough for Phisto to surface from his memories and pay closer attention to what lay ahead. The path on which he walked led directly to the tavern – which was a fair distance away still – and he could hear faint noises coming from up ahead. Why would the tavern be occupied at this hour? Not to mention that there was something awfully distressing about the nature of the sounds.
Phisto eventually opted to continue forward – but very carefully.
An artificial archway marked the entrance to the tavern, complete with a welcoming sign dangling some twelve or so feet in the air. Within sight of it now, Phisto was close enough to see and hear what was going on, and it was not good.
He crept closer, hiding himself directly behind the archway so that he was in the best possible position to eavesdrop. But the sight that greeted him when he peered into the open tavern was already making him regret his decision.
There were five of them. Five grown men in shining white Barioth armor with their weapons held high in defensive positions. Two more without weapons had their hands full with a long length of chain that extended to a height several feet above their heads. The reason for this unusual positioning was that the soldiers had an unusual prisoner – the Seltas-boy, Atticus.
What are they doing to him? Phisto inwardly gasped.
The tiny part of Phisto's mind that wasn't in complete shock from this development was reminding him of what he had learned the other day about hybrids – those who were still getting used to the transformation would revert back to their original monster selves. So the soldiers that were attempting to capture Atticus had apparently triggered his inner Seltas. The small boy was hissing and screaming continuously in a thin insect-like voice, buzzing around in circles in a futile attempt to break free of the chain that had been lashed around his armored middle.
It looked like Atticus had completely lost his mind… which was technically true.
"Get him on the ground!" one of the weaponless men yelled at his partner.
"I'm trying!" he snapped back. "This thing is… urg… stronger than he looks!"
Finally, after giving the chain a mighty yank, the two soldiers managed to slam Atticus into the ground. The Seltas-boy was stunned for only a moment, then immediately revved up his wings and attempted to break free again. Four soldiers immediately piled themselves up on top of him, two of them throwing away their weapons in order to help their comrades. But even with all that weight on top of him, Atticus still put up a fight, causing the pile to rock back and forth as the soldiers tried to keep him down.
"Hold him steady," came a cold and strangely familiar voice. "Get him on the boat, and no permanent injuries. I want him as fit to fight as possible."
That was when Phisto noticed the white-robed figure standing off to the side, partially hidden in shadow and well away from his men and the maddened Seltas-boy. It was the Tundra King, wearing an expression that was mostly neutral but with a hint of satisfaction.
What is he doing? Phisto thought, shocked anew. If he wants the hybrid… Atticus… alive and well, then it can't be for anything good, can it? But what does he want him for?
This man who ruled over most of the northernmost areas of Moga had a long history of shady dealings in monster-related materials and performing acts that most Hunter's Guilds would consider questionable at best. Back during the Human-Monster War, the Tundra King and his hunters had pretty much dominated the market in terms of scales, hides, and fangs that were wanted for weapons and armor. His business was important enough that he had been considered a close ally of the Loc Lac Hunter's Guild before the city was abandoned, and Phisto had seen him in person once or twice – the last time being the day of his and Catry's banishment.
So from all of this evidence, Phisto knew that the Tundra King was certainly up to no good.
There was a sudden commotion. When another soldier approached to tie more chains around Atticus' legs and arms, the Seltas-boy broke into a rejuvenated fit of violent struggles that actually toppled the pile of men on top of him, allowing him to break free. The men were quick to grab hold of the chains to stop him from fleeing – but fleeing, apparently, wasn't on Atticus' mind. He released a hissing shriek and dive-bombed the nearest soldier, who didn't get his Lance up in time to prevent the hybrid from slamming into him.
Phisto turned away just in time to miss the sight of Atticus' orange claw plunging into the man's forehead, but the *craaaaack* of fracturing bone was impossible to tune out.
"Restrain him!" the Tundra King ordered. "He's out of his mind with fear and rage."
His men put their backs into their next tug, successfully yanking Atticus off of their dead comrade. Atticus fought back with strength that should have been unnatural for something resembling a ten-year-old human boy, straining with all his might to resist the combined might of those who restrained him. He hissed and spat and screeched and swung his claws, putting up one heck of a fight, but little by little, the Tundra King's men pulled him away.
Heart hammering against his chest, Phisto couldn't do anything but stand there and watch in horror as the Seltas-boy was dragged to a dock on the other side of the tavern and aboard a sailboat. The last Phisto saw of him were his flailing claws, which tore huge gashes in the wooden deck before he finally vanished into the ship's cargo hold.
Still, Atticus' frenzied shrieks could be heard floating up from the open trapdoor.
The Tundra King's sigh of relief was audible even from the distance at which Phisto was hiding. "Good," he muttered. "The hybrid child will prove valuable. One casualty is a price I'm willing to pay for such a… spirited creature."
From the nearby cliff that cast its shadow over the eastern side of the tavern, there was a sudden scrabbling sound.
"Sir, there's someone –" a soldier tried to warn, but was stopped when a cloaked figure slammed into him from above, knocking him out.
It was the Nerscylla-boy from yesterday, so Phisto realized. Hadn't he mentioned that he was Atticus' caretaker? If that was true, then things were about to get messy.
"What are you doing?" Kumono hissed fiercely. His murderous glare was centered on the Tundra King, his fingers and spider legs twitched with barely-suppressed fury, and his hood was down to leave his enraged expression unobscured. Drenched in shadow as the cloaked hybrid was, he looked like a vengeful spirit straight out of Hell. The overall image was a stark contrast to the friendly, peaceful Kumono that had gone out of his way to make a good impression the other day.
To the white-robed man's credit, he didn't appear perturbed by the quivering, enraged hybrid. Instead, he said calmly, "Your friend will not be harmed. Now stay back and do not trifle with us, or I guarantee that you will regret it. I am not an enemy you wish to make."
Kumono lost it.
"YES YOU ARE!" he screeched, lunging forward in a blind rage. "NOW GIVE HIM BACK!"
On their king's command, three soldiers swung their weapons at Kumono. All of them were Switch Axes made from steel, and they glinted dangerously in the moonlight. But Kumono was quick – he slid away from one soldier's 'Swaxe' as it was sometimes called, then struck at the back of the man's exposed neck. The tips of his spider legs sunk into the flesh, and he gave an almighty heave that was sufficient to fling the fatally-wounded man over his head.
There was a crunching noise when the soldier hit a wooden bench in the tavern's upper dining area, and it didn't sound like it was the bench that had broken.
The two remaining soldiers lashed out with the deadly blades of their Swaxes, but Kumono moved back and to the side in an odd manner that resembled a scuttling arachnid. Then he pounced, crashing right into the nearest soldier. Landing on the man's chest, Kumono plunged his clawed fingers into the man's face and neck, tearing a series of gashes across his flesh. The soldier yelled in pain and grabbed his Swaxe, moving it upwards to strike the Nerscylla-boy in the face with the flat of its blade.
When the metal collided with Kumono's nose, he screamed and scuttled away, dark red blood splattered across his face and dripping from his hands. However, he shook away the pain remarkably fast and came back with a vengeance. With a noise that was so disgusting that it could not truly be described, a pair of chelicerae lurched out of his mouth and clamped over the injured soldier's neck.
Dark liquid splattered across the pavement. The man collapsed, succumbing to a combination of blood loss and Kumono's potent venom. With a sharp hiss, the Nerscylla-boy released his hold and prepared to finish his enemy off…
…and the gleaming edge of a Switch Axe sliced straight through one of his spider legs.
The scream of pain that followed was almost enough to shatter glass.
At a gesture from the Tundra King, chains were flung around Kumono even as he dropped to the ground and curled up like a dead spider. The severed limb landed beside him, still twitching spastically. He didn't put up any resistance at all as the remaining soldiers dragged him onto the dock just outside the tavern's exit. He, too, disappeared into the ship's cargo hold.
"Excellent work," remarked the Tundra King. "Two hybrids for the price of three guards… normally the losses would be much higher. I have a feeling the two of them will entertain many people indeed…"
He stalked after his guards, calling out to whomever captained the vessel to get it ready for a trip back home.
But then, he stopped right as he was about to board the boat, and turned around to survey the seemingly empty tavern. His cold eyes flicked back and forth, not even sparing the bloodstained pavement or unmoving corpses of his men a single glance. Suspicion clouded his regal features. He could have sworn…
With a shrug, the Tundra King left.
Unseen behind the archway, Phisto let out the breath that he didn't even know he was holding. His entire body was shaking from what he had just witnessed, and his legs felt weak. It wasn't just the carnage that had been unleashed in the tavern, it was also what came afterward that disturbed him. Seeing Kumono dealt with so brutally had made him sick to his stomach, and the Tundra King's last glance around the area made him so terrified that he had been discovered spying on him that the feeling of nausea only got worse. Now that he was alone, all he could do was clutch at his stomach and take deep breaths until his insides settled down and his pulse returned to normal.
"I-I need to get out of here…" Phisto said to himself, the tremulous note in his voice only making it obvious that he hadn't entirely calmed down. "S-Someone needs to tell them what the Tundra King has done…"
He didn't want to imagine how the hostile Glavenus-woman would react to the news.
He took a step backwards, then another, mostly to make sure that he'd be able to walk to the lighthouse without any trouble. But on his third step, he bumped into something that felt alive.
It was all but confirmed when he felt an arm slide around his middle and tug him further into the thing behind him. Phisto was frozen even before the knife came to rest at his throat.
"Leaving so soon?" a sly female voice caressed his ear. It was so close that he swore he could feel her lips brush against him.
All at once, Phisto was forcefully turned around and slammed into the archway, allowing him to see his captor. When he did, his body moved all at once in an instinctive struggle to get away, only to freeze again when the knife was applied to his neck. His reaction was understandable, since the one trapping him against the wall was someone he had tried his best to avoid all his life. Back when he was banished, the silver lining had been a severe reduction in the chances he would see her again.
For this was the girl he had been most scared of running into back when he was a hunter of Loc Lac, the girl that was rumored to be so cruel that she had once forsaken the saying 'don't kill the messenger' and did just that when she received particularly bad news. The Tundra King's only daughter, Jaedal.
Her long, sleek black hair framed the paleness of her face and made it seem even paler. Crimson-colored eyes shone with a combination of curiosity and sadistic glee as she studied her prisoner from up close. The fabric of her form-fitting midnight blue dress rustled when she moved closer, pushing Phisto even harder against the wall. Her slender arm came up and pressed a delicate hand to his chest, which he could feel even through the folds of Jaggi skin he was adorned with. It was as cold and smooth as ice.
"Do I know you?" Jaedal asked contemplatively, although Phisto got the feeling that the question was rhetorical. The sly smirk and predatory look in her eyes didn't show signs of disappearing. "You look very familiar. Perhaps we've met before?"
Somehow, Phisto's mouth still worked. "I-I-I don't know."
The smirk grew, and her eyes twinkled unpleasantly. "Oh, now I see," Jaedal purred. "You look like you could be from somewhere in Moga. The Jaggi armor means you must have been a hunter, and it looks several years old – meaning that you were part of the Guild in Loc Lac City, because Tanzia didn't have a Guild until the city was abandoned."
There was no way the Docks boy would be able to muster the courage to deny that.
"I remember you," the evil princess stated. Her cold hand trailed up Phisto's chest to rest against his cheek, and he shivered. "The one that was banished alongside his friend from Loc Lac, the day my father and I last visited. You've grown since then."
Suddenly, Jaedal's face was far too close to Phisto's for comfort. His vision was filled with nothing but her ghastly expression. And was that her arm slithering across his shoulder so her hand could immerse its fingers in his hair? A bead of sweat slid down his forehead, followed by another when she pushed her knife more firmly against his throat.
"It's not nice to eavesdrop, you know," Jaedal continued, her surprisingly warm breath washing across his nose and mouth. "My father would probably have you killed if he knew…"
Phisto swore that his heart was about to fail him any second now.
"…but where's the fun in that?" she finished after a dramatic pause. "I think we could get some use out of a cute one like you."
That did not help. He didn't speak, not only because he was frightened out of his wits but because their lips would probably make contact if he did.
Finally, Jaedal drew out of Phisto's personal bubble, her arm slithering back over his shoulder and down to its proper position at her side. She took the knife away, too, allowing Phisto some space to breathe and rub his neck anxiously. But he didn't get long to relax, as Jaedal's hand was now gripping his arm and tugging him forward.
"That's it," she crooned, making his spine prickle. "You just rest for now, cute boy. You need plenty of rest for what's coming tomorrow."
Then a fist collided with Phisto's face, and unconsciousness was swift to wrap him in its dark embrace.
His last thought before his mind went blank was – No-one will get to know what happened.
-.-.-.-.-.
Guess who's playing the hell out of MH Generations? *does a happy jig*
So some romance subplots are starting and WHOA GOD THAT'S NOT GOOD. The Tundra King is kidnapping hybrids? And neither Kumono nor Atticus was enough to stop him?
Hopefully you readers are a little bit more interested in Phisto's side of the story now that the sh*t's getting real, huh?
Please send some reviews! I like hearing what you readers are thinking.