Chapter 4
Glorious Nothing
Conall strode out into the courtyard of the castle, his face a mask of fury. That witch plays her games, and my men are about as useful as a flock of geese in a battle! Must I run this kingdom myself!?
He looked over to where his men stood in neat rows, each silent and still, soaked to the bone, and yet unmoving. They were puppets, nothing more. Their loyalty could not be bought, their valor was absolute, but they were still empty shells. Conall closed his eyes in irritation, trying to think of some way he could defeat his brother.
"Any real strategist knows what he must do to win." A sickly voice whispered from the shadows nearby. "You have everything you need, but the means in which you use tend to falter. Your brother has grown strong at the fallen Kingdom of Ohtori, and his friends make him stronger."
Turning sharply around to face the rebuking voice, he came face to face with a figure he had never seen before. She was nearly a foot shorter than his own impressive height, with dark hair draped down her shoulders and deathly pale skin. Her body was so thin that her simple black robes seemed like an elephant's skin draped over her. The most haunting thing about her, however, was her eyes. The whites were dimmed as if turning a pastel gray, and her pupils shone like silver disks that shimmered and reflected whatever light entered them. Her whole appearance was that of a young lady who was afflicted with terrible leprosy, and yet a strange vitality burned within her.
"Who are you?" Conall looked taken aback by this bizarre creature as she stepped into the rain from the shelter the little ledge afforded her. He stepped back cautiously, his hand drifting down to the sword hanging from his left hip.
"If you wish to call me anything, then my name is Kriem." She walked up to him with dark, sultry flashes pulsing through her eyes. Reaching up delicately with one of her dainty, silken hands, she brushed his cheek. "But you may call me whatever pleases you." Turning back, she walked under the stone ledge once again, her body almost fading into the darkness itself.
"Very well, Kriem, what is your purpose here?" Conall asked again, feeling a little more confidence about this stranger.
"My purpose is meaningless, because it does not exist here. You on the other hand, have many purposes here, so I will show you how to succeed in doing what is required to make those purposes a reality." She answered, her voice hardly raising above a pained whisper, and yet he could hear her words clearly over the roar of the thunderheads breaking in the sky above.
Another flash illuminated Kriem's eyes, nearly blinding Conall for a moment. When he cleared his gaze, there was nothing left of the girl standing in the shadows. In her place, a delicate ball mask sat upon the grass, tiny black feathers radiating out from the eyes, and a cold, lifeless smile covering the mouth.
Conall walked forward, picking up the mask, looking down at the empty face that stared back up at him. I am beautiful, aren't I? Conall dropped the mask with a start, staring down at where it fell. He wasn't sure if he was simply hearing things, or if the mask had spoken into his mind.
For a moment, he just stood, then very carefully, he reached down and drew it into his hands again. Teehee, a little shy, are we? Do not worry, Prince. All will be made clear in time. For now, know that I am all you need me to be, and if I am not, then I am nothing.
Filled with a terrible dread, he placed the mask carefully upon his face, where it stayed firmly. Suddenly the world seemed to rage and spin around him, becoming dark shapes where looming towers thrust up into the darkened sky, and thousands of arrows cut across the walls, jamming into trees that grew in profusion all about him. Great bells thundered in the distance, and webs hung everywhere.
Conall staggered back, watching the twisting, changing scene thunder around him in horror, unable to take in the full scope of what he was seeing. Out upon the courtyard, he could see his men, nothing more than skeletons standing in perfect columns, their bones filled with fluff from stuffed animals and silken threads that held the unnatural masses together.
"What is this!?" Conall demanded, but his words were filled with terror that he couldn't hide.
This? This is what I see every waking moment of my life. The voice within his mind whispered soothingly. Welcome to my world.
***
Footsteps crunched softly in the dead loam of the forest floor as a lone figure walked through the darkness of the wood. For a moment, his glasses caught a flash of light, reflecting the round surfaces in the night.
A small, pleased smile appeared on his lips as he approached the broken columns of stone and rubble that had fallen to the ground in the woodlands. Huge pillars and chunks of marble sat in massive piles, a gravestone to the mad dreams of Ohtori Academy's former chairman.
The young man could still remember the day that the Dueling Arena held in the sky came down, bringing the great Castle of Eternity with it. Now the dwelling place of Eternity was lying shattered upon the ground, it's enormous stones rendered into useless piles of rubble. The chairman, Akio, had been upon the Dueling Arena when it fell, all his accomplishments laying broken over his shattered body.
It hardly mattered to Edric, who knelt down and began feeling the stones with calculating hands, judging each piece with a critical eye. He pushed carefully through the rubble, searching for his quarry among the broken stones.
Hours seemed to pass as he worked diligently in the darkened woodland, moving aside the shattered glories of the past with each sweep of his hands. He stopped, brushing aside a small area with his hands, throwing up a fine white powder as he worked, slowly uncovering a black object from amongst the rubble.
He rose to his feet, pulling fiercely at the object. For several long moments, the thing in his grip refused to move, then it popped out like a cork. Edric fell to a sit, looking down at his prize. A black, size thirteen shoe, still scuffed and covered in marble powder, sat in his hands. Smiling, he rose and began excavating the area around it, working intently to uncover what was buried there.
The birds ceased their songs, still he worked. A warm light cut through the trees, still he worked. An owl hooted in the distance, still he worked. Fragments of blue appeared overhead through the thick canopy, and Edric finally stopped.
He looked down proudly at the maligned form he had uncovered. The man's body was tall, a deep tan marking his perfectly formed frame. He had bright lavender hair, made lighter by the marble powder still worked into it. He wore a red shirt and black pants, and in his right hand a white shoe was still clutched, crushed along with the rest of his body.
Edric knelt next to the broken man, pulling out the shattered hilt of a dark, hateful sword from his belt. Using the ruined blade's jagged edge, he began cutting at the chest of the dead man, gouging a hole into the crushed flesh. He carefully lifted open the new cut, smiling as he looked into the heart cavity. The area was empty, nothing but a void waiting to be filled.
"So they weren't lying when they called you a heartless bastard, were they Akio?" Edric laughed quietly to himself as he pushed the hilt of the sword in his hand deep into the cavity. A horrible, unnatural light blazed forth from the wound, then from the eyes and mouth of the dead man.
A shriek escaped the body's lips, reaching a deafening crescendo that chilled the souls of all who heard it. Edric took several steps back, smiling cruelly as the dead Prince rose from his grave, his eyes blazing with a terrible, unnatural gleam.
"Welcome back to the land of the living, Prince Akio." Edric bowed, his disposition shifting to one of solemn pleasure.
***
To the far west of the Kingdom of Ookami, another shadow loomed within the storm. Hundreds of small green pavilions stood in several perfect circles ringing the base of a large hill. At it's peak, another stood, much larger than the others. Tiny fires lit up the night about the camp, as if stars had abandoned their places in the sky, and dropped to the Earth below.
A rain battered figure approached the high pavilion, making her way into the warmth as she escaped the elements outside. Keeping her cloak up against the light of a roaring fire in the midst of the tent, she knelt on one of the bear pelts adorning the floor, facing a huge oaken chair.
Sitting upon this throne, a young man sat with one leg thrown over the arm, leaning upon the other with a casual indifference. He was lean and muscular, well formed with sun tanned skin and dark hair dyed in shades of red that made it seem as if his hair were changing color from one moment to the next. He was clad in barbaric finery, a heavy bearskin cloak, leather pants, and a thin chain sash with photographs hanging from it. Upon each was the face of a man, and a woman on the other side.
He looked up, almost bored with the frail girl's entrance. "Meirk, you have something to report?" His voice was every bit as lustrous as his body, nearly giving the girl spasms of longing. He smiled at her desire, knowing the power he had over women.
"Yes, my most wonderful Warlord! It appears their attention has been drawn to the sea. Someone they fear is making his way from the port into their city, and they fear he will destroy them." She whispered in a sickly voice.
"Ah, and what can you tell me about this, this newcomer?" He asked, grinning pleasurably at her trembling frame.
Meirk felt her heart freeze in fear, knowing he would not accept her answer. "Uh, well, my most worthy Warlord, he, um, ni-"
"Get on with it!" He said sharply, rising from his seat and glaring down at her.
"Neither my sister Kriem or I can see him... Our powers refuse to reveal his name or his face. We can not tell you of him." She dropped onto her face, her whole body trembling in anticipation of the Warlord's anger.
"What do you mean, can't see him!? Why do you think I keep you around, you worthless wench!" Striding over, he kicked the girl sprawling from where she crouched, driving her back with each blow. "You will go and find this man!"
"No, my Warlord, ple-Aaagh!"
"You will reveal him!"
"Mercy, my Warlord, mer-Aah!"
"Then, you will tell me all I demand to know!" With his final words, he kicked the wretched girl from the tent, leaving her groaning in agony outside. She didn't remain long, for fear that the Warlord's temper might suddenly return at the sound of her pain. Dragging herself from the mud where she fell, the witch made her way slowly out of the camp, her body aching from the relentless assault she endured. Many tiny flowers that tried to bloom in the first glimpse of spring died, drowned by the oppressive force of the rain.
***
Ambrosia led Saionji along the mud coated stones to the edge of the city, where hundreds of old, run down buildings dotted the landscape along the suburbs. The ancient structures stared angrily at the pair through hollow, dead eyes as they made their way into the dark confines of one building, escaping the rain outside.
"Well, it isn't much, but it's home!" Ambrosia said cheerily, motioning about the run-down room. An old television lay smashed upon the floor, and a sofa sat, dank and brown, in the corner, with rat holes torn into it. Other ruined objects littered the floor, and a large stand with colorful bottle caps stacked in it stood solemnly in one corner, the only color that seemed to survive in the otherwise dreary room.
"What happened in here? It looks like someone came in and ransacked it." Saionji replied, looking about the room.
"Pretty much. When the King outlawed things of the New World, he decided there was no need to remove them, just break them apart and leave the mess for the people who lived there. All the stuff we had was broken, and..." Ambrosia suddenly stopped her explanation, a deep silence hiding within her eyes.
Saionji walked over to the quieted girl, seeing the hurt hidden away inside her. He reached to embrace her, then paused, watching to see if she would get mad. When she didn't respond to his action, he took her about the shoulders, drawing her into his embrace. "There there, I understand how you feel. I lost all I ever knew once, and I know how much it hurts."
Lost in his arms, Ambrosia began to cry out her sorrows. It had been so long since she had been this close to someone, this close to her dead father, that she could barely remember it. But the warmth, the feeling of this man brought the memories of her loss flooding back to her.
A pair of little birds landed upon the broken window seal, watching them stand together in the dark room.