Chapter 5
Give Me Liberty or Give Me Death
"We need some kind of plan!" Ragnarok tried to explain, but neither Nemo nor Utena were in any mood to listen, making their way towards the castle at the base of the mountain. Following in their wake, Anthy, Ragnarok, and Ryan followed under the shelter of a large tarp that they held over their heads. "Useless... Miss Himemia, can you talk some sense into that girl? Nemo is more stubborn than a monkey with a nut when he's got his mind set on something."
Anthy smiled down at him, shaking her head. "Unfortunately, Utena is hardly one to change her mind either. I think if they both set their hearts on what they want at the same time, only a wall will stop them, and maybe not even then."
Ragnarok shook his head in frustration, looking after the young, impetuous Princes. They would walk right into the mouth of a dragon if they thought it would help them succeed. He would have to find another way to assist them without getting them killed first. Looking up at Ryan, he gave himself a moment of thought. "Ryan, keep an eye on those two, and listen to miss Himemia. I need to go find something." Hurrying from the makeshift shelter, he paused for a moment, turning back to the group. "Oh, and don't let them get to the wall! The last thing I need to hear is that they've been made into pincushions while I'm gone!"
Ryan nodded in response, putting on a brave face for the wolf. "Don't worry, Ragnarok. I won't let anything happen to them."
Still concerned, but unwilling to waste any more time, Ragnarok disappeared into the myriad buildings of the city.
***
Saionji sat in silence, his eyes gazing off into nothing. This is wrong! I should be helping Nemo and Utena, not running around pretending to be something I'm not. He looked over to the pitiful pile of blankets where Ambrosia lay, sleeping fitfully. She seems so alone, unable to protect herself. It doesn't make sense! I would be helping her so much more by going and defeating Nemo's brother, but I can't leave her.
"Of course you can't." An old voice came from behind Saionji, drawing his attention to an aged man sitting next to the window, his hunched frame accentuating a frail, wrinkled face. "You're a Prince, and no Prince can abandon a damsel in distress. That is a part of who you are, and who you will become."
"Who I will become? Who are you?" Saionji asked. Something about this man seemed familiar, and yet, so very different from anyone he could remember. In fact, he seemed to have a hard time remembering any adult save the teachers at Ohtori, and even they seemed little more than empty shells.
The old man set down a chess board, moving a piece upon it. "You are very special, Saionji. A man who is learning to grow past his nature and become a true Prince of his people."
"A Prince of his own... Wait! What people are you talking about? This land is the rightful property of my friend, Nemo." Saionji said, suspicion growing in his heart.
The old man moved another piece. "Really? Is that what you call him? Surely he has told you his real name by now?"
"What do you mean, real name? His name is Nemo, and he is my friend."
Taking a bishop, the old man moved it in line with the King on the other side of the board. Checkmate. "Every name has a meaning, a truth hidden within it. Nemo is not your so-called friend's true name, but one he puts up to protect himself from others. He hides his true name, so that you will have no power to betray him. Of course, that means he doesn't trust you enough to tell you his true name. Perhaps you are only another pawn in his game."
"He really is very much like his father, taking what he wants and casting aside those who helped him once he attains his goals. You should be careful, young Prince, and beware the deception Nemo pulls over your eyes. If he were really your friend, he would tell you his true name." The graveness of the old man's voice drew Saionji in. A mighty blast of wind blew across the land, pressing upon a small tree. Bent and strained, the sapling whipped in the wind, slowly cracking near the base.
"You're wrong, Nemo would tell me his true name if he wanted! He just hasn't told me yet." Saionji defended, but doubt had grown in his mind.
"Go to the hill, seek out a girl with pale skin and strange eyes. She will show you the truth." Rising slowly, the old man made his way back out into the storm. "Heed what I have said, or your fate may be the same as all the betrayed."
Saionji rose angrily, walking up and kicking the chess board over. He couldn't believe the old man's words, even if they made sense. Glaring at the pieces laying upon the ground, he tried to make sense of it all.
Smiling silently, the man waded into the wind and rain. He had completed the first part of his plan, now all he had to do was wait for it to bear fruit. Soon enough, they would be at each other's throats, and he would be there to take advantage of it.
***
A pair of guards leaned sleepily against the high wall, staring in boredom out at the rain. Thunder cracked across the sky, sending a sheet of light out to annoy the tired guards. "Agh, I hate this rain!" The first complained, rubbing a water soaked arm across his face.
"I hate everything." The second replied, crouched in the little shelter supplied by the battlements.
The first looked over at his companion, an incredulous look upon his face. "You can't hate everything! There's gotta be something you like."
"Nope, stopped liking everything. Doesn't matter what happens anymore, everything's just annoying now." The second grumbled, staring off into the courtyard.
"C'mon, you gotta like something. How about food, or sleep, or having a warm fire to sit by once you're off duty?" The first crouched to sit next to his stubborn companion, doing whatever he could to convince his friend to speak.
"Don't like the food, since it tastes terrible. Sleep means I get to dream about the people who were taken from my life, and warm fires are all a reminder that I had something to live for, and it was yanked out from under me. Life ain't worth living anymore." The second said in irritation, pulling his coat tighter about him.
"So there isn't anything for real?" The first looked over at the second, sadness in his eyes.
"No... Well, there was, but not no more." The second slipped for a moment.
"What, what!? Tell me, I want to know." The first leaned around, trying to look into the eyes of his miserable companion.
"I, uh, I used to like sitting there with my pa on saturdays, watchin' cartoons and laughing together." He said, a faint smile creeping onto his forlorn face.
"Ahh! Shh! Are you mad!?" The first guard whispered, his face shocked by the second's statement. "You can't go talking about stuff like that! Do you want to be killed!?"
"What does it matter? Life isn't what it used to be, before that rotten ol' King went up and took everything away. Now what do we have left? Misery, that's what! And pain, and suffering! Well I've had it! I'm looking out for myself now, and not what little Prince Conall wants! His daddy's dead anyways, so what do we gotta worry about?" The second guard stood, looking down at the first, a sad frown creasing his dripping face. Looking out at the angry storm, he glared at the wind and driving rains. "You listen to me, world! My name is Michael Cray, and I refuse to be a slave to this world any longer!"
"You're mad! You can't do this! Please, I'm begging you, don't do this! Oh, I should never have spoken to you in the first place!" The guard began to cry, fearful of what would happen to them for Michael's impudent words. He cringed next to the battlements, hoping his end would be swift.
"Hello up there! Michael Cray! Can you hear us!?" A voice cut through the rain, calling up to the man standing defiantly upon the wall.
Looking down into the dark streets, Michael tried to find the place where the voices were coming from. Sighting a small group of figures leaning within the shadow of a building, just further than the old towers that guarded the bridge into the castle. The one calling to him appeared to be a young man, wearing a black coat like a guardsman.
"Aye, what do you want?" He called back, wondering why the man would use his name.
"We need to get into the castle. Could you lower the bridge?" The man responded. His voice seemed so familiar to Michael, but somehow different than he remembered it. It wasn't as refined as he recalled, but more authoritative, more firm. He didn't know why, but something about this man made him want to obey, and he found himself walking down to the gatehouse.
"No way! No way! You can't just let those people in! They are obviously not guardsmen, and if you let them into the castle, we'll both hang for sure!" The guard followed, trying to convince Michael to stop.
Pausing, Michael looked into the eyes of his companion, a look of determination filling them. "No, I want to help these people. There is something different about them, and maybe it's just a gut feeling, but I think it's the right thing to do."
"The right thing!? Getting us both killed is the right thing!? This is ludicrous!" The guard babbled, throwing his hands in the air. "Do you want to die for nothing!?"
"Do you want to live for nothing?" Michael retorted, then strode into the guardhouse, leaving his stunned companion standing behind him.
***
Conall's smile grew as he gazed out at the wondrous things all about him. The mask's sight seemed to change everything, showing him the depths of the world around him. Webs pulled things everywhere, one thing changing another and another, almost like the whole world was a series of puppets, each affected by a more influential puppet, that was in turn affected again.
"I can see it all, the truth beneath the surface of every action, the choices every person makes! With this power, who could hope to stand against me!?" He laughed, watching his soldiers stand stiff and unchanging in the fierce winds.
A sound suddenly raced upon his ears, coming from over the walls, far away. The howl of a thousand wolves, all calling into the darkness overhead. Chains began rattling, and the earth under Conall's feet seemed to shake with some untold power.
"What is going on!? What does all this mean!?" He demanded to Kriem, feeling a great fear grip his heart.
That? That is the sound of change. One whom the wolves' call sounds for, like the blast of a trumpet, is approaching. He brings with him a change that will reshape this land, and throw all into upheaval.
"No! My brother is here already!?" Conall hesitated for only a moment, then turned to the fluff-filled skeletons, shouting wildly. "To the walls, you fools! Protect my kingdom!"
The men turned in a bizarre parody of life, rushing to the defenses of the castle, making their way up the walls, to the towers, and all along the ramparts. Conall smiled at the efficiency of the marionettes, each doing exactly as they were meant to, each knowing their duty perfectly. Too overconfident! The voice within his mind said. Did you really think he was assaulting you? Look again.
Realization flooded into Conall as he saw the gates grind open, making a passage straight into the castle. All of his men had gone to defend from an attacking force, leaving the grounds empty and unattended, and permitting anyone at the gate to simply walk in.
A loud clatter thundered across the courtyard as the drawbridge struck the ground, revealing not an army, but his brother, Nemo. The howls started within his mind again, cutting across the open field as Nemo charged, his eyes blazing like a torrential fire. Racing behind him came Utena, Anthy, and Ryan, swords in hand as they followed in his wake. Threads and webs began snapping and breaking by the hundred as they crossed the field.
Hurrying away from where he stood, Conall ran as fast as he could, making for the keep. "To me! To me!" He shouted, calling his men back from their battle stations.
A look of horror crossed his face as he saw Anthy pause, looking about her at the webs that had been formed. "She can see them too?" He asked, his eyes wide. Of course she can, she was a witch after all.
Anthy seemed to reach out, gathering tiny threads into her hands. She tugged them gently, drawing them with her delicate hands. The result was anything but gentle. The rains falling upon the walls seemed to become more slick, and as his troops ran mindlessly over it, their feet suddenly found no grip. Torn from where they stood, they fell from the wall, the bones crushed, silk ribbons breaking apart as they slammed violently into the ground below.
"No, this can't be happening!" Conall shouted, watching his men crumple back into the lifeless beings they were.
"Conall!" The shout brought his attention back to his estranged brother, who was rushing at him with his sword bared, a thousand shadowed wolves rushing in his wake. Gripped with terror, Conall pulled himself into the keep's doors, locking a hundred locks to keep out his vengeful kin. Looking about for something, anything that would avail him of his predicament, but nothing was forthcoming. A feeling of doom thundered within him, accentuated by the mocking howl of the wolves.