Chapter 8
A Turn of the Wind
Warlord Asrad turned upon his throne, his eyes fixed on the tall, green haired man stepping into his pavilion. A thunderous pounding of hooves sounded outside, accompanied by a large dust cloud blowing in through the tent flaps.
"Meirk, why have you brought this foppish creature before me? Who is he?" Asrad demanded, his temper rising at his unannounced guest's arrival.
Meirk simply smiled, her lips only barely rising at the corners of her mouth as she bowed. "May I present Saionji, one who has come from across the sea, and your successor, my most badly mistaken Warlord!"
Both Asrad and Saionji's eyes turned on Meirk, followed by the gaze of a thousand blank faces. Rising from his chair in a fury, Asrad shouted in rage, throwing the heavy wooden object over. "How dare you!? You think to have ME challenged by this weak little man!?" He was about to grab for a massive sword sitting next to the fire pit, it's blade still glowing from the flame's heat, when Saionji stepped between them.
"I did not come to challenge you, nor would I desire any such thing. Please forgive her, she has no reason to speak for me." Saionji said in her defense, his arm stretched to bar the Warlord's advance.
"I don't care what you think, no one stands up to a Warlord and lives! She will pay with her life!" Asrad shouted, snarling into Saionji's face. Standing his ground, Saionji glared into the furious Warlord's eyes, seeing the murder in them, then he noticed the necklace. Realizing where he was looking, Asrad's temper calmed a bit. "You like my prizes?"
"What are they?" Saionji asked.
"Each picture is either one of my victims, or my conquests." Asrad said, pleasure glowing in his eyes. "If a man dares resist me, I kill him for challenging my authority and take his woman, use her up, and cast her aside like the whore she is. If a woman resists, I make her scream while her man is forced to listen. I break them, and then drag them apart so that they can suffer and despair." His voice grew deep, his face wide with a sinister grin.
"You're a beast!" Saionji responded, disgust in his eyes. "I'm leaving, come on Am-" Looking about, he realized Ambrosia was gone. "Where is she!? What did you do to her!?"
"Hahaha! Nothing, yet! You were foolish to dare bring a woman into my presence, then defy me!" Asrad said mockingly, raising his eyes and staring down his nose at Saionji. "A challenge and a Bride can not be ignored, the Old Way must be upheld! Even I can't deny it."
"But I'm not challenging you." Saionji replied, a rising nervousness filling him.
"Very well, then I will take your Bride and kill you now!" Asrad said, his voice filled with perverse glee.
"I see, so you give me no choice." Saionji growled, his eyes growing hard. "Be sure that I will give you no mercy for what you have done."
"Good, mercy is a weakness a real Warlord can't afford. I will enjoy breaking you for your impudence." Asrad replied spitefully. Behind the two men, Meirk watched their conflict, glee shining in her strange eyes. They were acting just as the threads predicted. Soon, the dark sisters' plans would be put into motion, and true Eternity would be theirs.
***
High in the north tower, Althea bustled about, grumbling about her need for a young body. Carrying a heavy helm that belonged to King Davian, the old witch lifted it onto a mannequin with Nemo's face. Satisfied, she looked about the room, her old features twisted into a dark smile. Photos of Nemo had been adorned in every form of the old King's raiment, including pictures carefully changed until the King's face was on one side, while Nemo's was on the other.
"Hahaha," a soft laugh came from the darkness behind her, "excellent, my errant son's nature will be bent until he becomes like me." King Davian stepped free of the darkness, his old frail face radiating both nobility and corruption, a true testament to the power of the world over a man's heart. A strong, but crinkled hand stroked one of the pictures gently. "You should never have stood against me, my son. Now I will take your nameless form and mangle it for what you have dared to do, until only I stand on top."
He swept around, his cape fluttering behind him. Striding intently from the room, he glanced back at Althea. "You know what to do with him. And remember, you must break Prince Utena. If that girl becomes too much trouble, kill her."
"Oh, do not worry about that, my lord." The old witch replied softly. A river flowed gently along, leaving no sign of the current's terrible strength underneath. "My grandson is bringing a weapon to deal with her specifically."
"Good. Make sure all is ready, I will be watching." He disappeared into the darkness, leaving Althea alone once again.
"Of that I am sure my lord." The witch uttered under her breath.
She turned, half stumbling on some forgotten item in the dimly lit room. Making her way around the mannequins, photos, images, and carvings, she approached a large blanket thrown over a portion of the wall. Drawing it aside, she revealed a massive mirror, it's surface dark, barely reflecting her image as she stood before it.
The entire form of dark glass rippled for a moment as the witch's power flowed into it, reaching out across the sea. A mind opened to her, and for a moment, the witch was given pause by what she felt. Cunning, ambition, skill, desire, and more frightening than all others, power. She smiled with delight. Her grandson had grown so much in such a short life, he would be truly admirable when he reached her age.
"How soon will the weapon arrive?" She asked, the flow of words rippling through the surface of the mirror.
"Very soon. We have been sailing for a time already, and are prepared to arrive." A voice replied with cold confidence. The witch shivered again.
"I will be expecting you, but be warned, the castle has fallen to the unmentionable one. I am still here, my lair is secure. Come by night, strike at Utena's heart, rip it out. I want her alive, and her heart intact." Althea said gleefully, the thought of a young, broken heart filling her with vitality.
"Grandmother, you always did place far too much emphasis on beauty. I will get her heart for you, then you will give me what is promised." The youth replied jokingly, but his words carried with them a hint of ominous seriousness.
"Of course," she replied, "your reward will come in due time. Just worry about your part of the bargain, and I will worry about mine." This was a dangerous game, and she knew it. If her grandson got what he wanted, she would fall. If he gave her the heart of Utena Tenjou, she could have her youth and power again. The only question was, who would win this game of cat and mouse? He may be a prodigy, but he oversteps his bounds. It will be regrettable to lose such an excellent student, but some things have to be sacrificed to have power. I will be able to give birth to new children, but my power is only once, so I best keep it safe. She would not make a mistake with her grandson, no matter what the cost would be.
A slight slip sent a quill pen from the desk it rested upon to the floor. Althea looked sharply over, her eyes seeking the source of the disturbance. A flash of purple hair and dark skin told her all she needed to know about her intruder.
Gripping the threads hanging all about her, she moved her hands with the skill of a spider. A moment later, four stringed puppets, clothed in trench coats and tricorn hats came marching in. Standing in their midst, Anthy Himemia glared defiantly at the old hag.
"Well, the witch who changed the world! What a pleasure to finally meet you face to face. Please, come in, make yourself comfortable." She motioned, and the door to her lair slowly closed, the lock clicking as it shut.
***
Conall's mind shuddered, unable to perceive the world he had entered. Colors, shapeless forms, sounds that refused human comprehension. He tried to push through, to break the power of the bizarre world he had fallen into, but it refused to answer his desperate pleas for reason.
There was a series of resounding giggles, like little girls laughing down a distant hall. Then screams as rock cliffs and high peaks were ripped asunder by massive black talons. The clash of swords and the chirp of crickets, wood creaking under weight, and breaking apart. The world became black, then a rip formed in front of him, like mucous coated fabric being torn down a thin strip in front of him.
A man came striding out of the gloom, his dark face once beautiful, now nothing more than a mask of uncontained rage. Thundering in the background, steel met steel, it's impact so loud that it drowned his senses and threatened to deafen him.
A banner coated in lochs of hair shattered into splinters, and was replaced by a pole mounted with broken leaves carved from wood pinned to it's length. Two crowns fall to the ground, one is fine, while the other breaks in several places, then becomes overgrown with thorns and vines.
Thousands of masks suddenly erupt from the darkness surrounding him, and are shattered one by one until only two remain. Another appears, much more fearsome than the two, growing until it dominates the others, then wraps around the face of the carrion that broke the mountain. Two more masks appear, each beautiful, one sad and the other happy. They go separate ways, the sad one growing nearer to the great dark bird, while the happy one joins the two smaller masks.
Thunder cracks, and a thousand animals rush over everything, howling, screeching, sending their cries in every direction. Some consume each other, others race about, seeking something in the black wasteland of Conall's mind.
He tried to grip on to anything, any semblance of reality, but none came. Slowly but surely, madness consumed him.
***
Saionji looked about the strange place they were leading him to, a vast forest that coated much of the land surrounding the Kingdom of Ookami. Trees so tall they seemed to rise forever into the sky towered on either side of the tiny path, which was cluttered by thick foliage from thousands of strange, broad leafed bushes. Every once in a while, they would pass a foot high stone statue of a man covered in wild hair, each in a different posture.
Suddenly the path emerged from the trees, revealing a small lake amidst the woods. Saionji stared in wonder at the strange clearing, looking up at the mighty trees' interlacing branches, which refused to allow the sun to shine upon the lake in their midst. Billions of flowers bloomed in the branches, each tree sporting a different color of flower.
"Beautiful, aren't they?" Meirk commented, watching Saionji's expression with interest. Behind her, held in restraint by two guards, Ambrosia found herself also entranced by the flowers' beauty.
"They look like, roses! But how?" Saionji said, unable to comprehend what he was seeing.
"They are roses, but a different breed than you're used to. Their vines entangle the trees, struggling to reach the light of the sky." Meirk answered, smiling at his confusion. "Long before your duels at Ohtori Academy, sacred places like these existed all over the world. They were made by some ancient people for the purpose of resolving conflicts. The arenas themselves actually become a catalyst for the emotions of the duelists, revealing their innermost feelings. The one you fought in was also ancient, made use of by Akio for his own purposes. Wonders that have never been seen by normal men are found here, and if you look carefully, Eternity as well."
"When Eternity was locked away, these places lost much of what they were, becoming like any other, that is, until Akio reopened one." She continued, her sickly voice seeming to grow stronger and more elegant with each word she spoke. "Now that Eternity is free again, these gates to Eternity are opening, their power restored. The challenge you issued has become a matter of grievance between two who are bound by the Old Ways, and you are fated to fight for the freedom, or bondage of your friend Ambrosia."
Realizing what this meant, Saionji's head lowered, anger seething in his voice. "You tricked me. I don't know why you went through all this trouble, but I swear that neither you nor this Warlord's actions will go unpunished. The duels hurt people, broke hearts, and ruined lives. I have no wish to let this keep going on."
"Good, then you best stop him before he destroys you. Warlord Asrad is a hard man, and will not give you any mercy. Just remember what he will do to your little friend if you fail." Meirk gestured towards the restrained Ambrosia, who was watching them with fearful eyes.
"Don't worry, Ambrosia, I won't fail you." Saionji said, trying to sound brave. Deep within him, however, a chilling fear grew. He hadn't won a duel against anyone strong in a long time, constantly meeting failiure for his efforts. Utena beat me so easily, and so did the others. Am I really able to win? He looked into Ambrosia's eyes, seeing the frightened tears that threatened to burst forth. I have to win, for her life that I endangered. I can not afford to lose.