Chapter 9
Broken Pieces
Utena watched Nemo from behind the door, her expression growing more worried as she watched his strange behavior. He sat hunched over in front of a massive desk, the sound of a quill pen scraping against paper. The only light in the chamber came from a line of candles sitting above the desk.
What happened to him? Utena could hardly understand why he had shown such strange behavior. He had gone from being a noble youth seeking to free his kingdom to a shadowy recluse, writing new laws for his conquered homeland.
"Hehehaha, this will keep those simpletons in line. They need a firm hand to rule them and tell them how to live." Nemo's fevered words drifted from where he sat, somehow seeming scratchy and old.
Unable to contain herself anymore, Utena pushed the door aside, striding intently into the chamber. Hearing the sound, Nemo turned about in the chair, meeting Utena's angry, concerned gaze. But what she saw was far more frightening than she had ever imagined. The strong features of her friend had gone, leaving a strange, cunning glint in his eyes and a grim, aged face behind.
"Nemo, what happened to you?" Utena asked, her voice becoming concerned as she rushed up to him. "You look terrible!"
"Terrible? I've never felt so alive!" Turning about in his chair, he gestured to the notes and papers scattered about the ink-stained surface. "Look at all I've done! These laws and regulations will allow me to control this unruly, undisciplined people." Looking back at her, he smiled with a strange madness that sent shivers up her spine.
"What are you talking about? These are the people you promised to free! Are you going to become a tyrant like your father!?" Utena demanded, tears welling at the edges of her strained eyes.
"Haha, foolish girl. These people are little more than lazy pigs, sitting safely in the shelter of their homes. My father saw the truth, that they needed someone to tell them how to live, so they would be truly useful to the world. I see now what he was doing when he dominated them. He was insuring their obedience, so they could be turned into a real workforce."
Smack! Utena's hand struck Nemo across the cheek, reddening it. "You idiot!" She screamed, tears breaking free of their prison and racing down her face. "You came to free them from this, this slavery! Look at you! You're becoming just like your father!" She stood to her full height, her eyes still full of hurt. "I used to love you, but now you're nothing more than another dictator, determined to control the world around you. You're no better than Akio, and I won't be hurt like that again!"
Utena turned and stalked from the room, barely able to keep from crying as she hurried off down the empty corridors. How could he do this to them, to us..? Why is this happening all over again..? They're all alike, aren't they!? Every Prince is just another manipulative beast hidden beneath a kind exterior! Well, I've had it! I'm going home! She made her way out to the gate, crossing the drawbridge and running for the docks.
"Hey, wasn't that one of the Princes!?" Jim said to Michael, looking out of the gatehouse after Utena.
"Yeah it was. What do you think was wrong?" Michael responded, looking over Jim's shoulder.
"We should follow her and make sure she's safe." Jim said as he grabbed a spear from the wall, hurrying out of the gatehouse after the fleeing Prince.
"Shouldn't we keep an eye on our post?" Michael asked, grabbing a bow and following him.
Looking back, Jim smiled. "Something serious is going on, and I can't stand by and do nothing. You showed me that sometimes doing the right thing is more important than playing it safe."
Sighing with a grin, Michael followed. "You're right, if the Prince is in trouble, we need to do something about it."
The two guardsmen followed after Utena, not realizing how much their actions would change the future. Staring at the door in the writing chamber, Nemo sat there with a troubled expression written on his face. One of the candles upon the mantle extinguished. The room grew darker, casting dancing shadows across the walls.
***
Anthy's body burned in pain, her mind screaming with the terrible agony she was suffering, but no sound came forth from her. Her body was punctured with thousands of foot-long needles, but she refused to feel them. Blood dripped slowly down their lengths, pooling below her as crows landed upon the razor sharp needles, picking at her flesh with their beaks. Still she refused to make a sound, enduring the suffering with a supernatural will.
Althea could not help but be impressed with the girl's resilience, but her refusal to speak was growing frustrating. She had sought to torture Anthy until she learned all the young Witch knew, but Anthy was proving far more willful than she expected.
Taking lemons in her hands, she cut them carefully in half, then squeezed the juice so it ran down the needles into her tormented charge. Anthy winced, but still no sound came forth. Growing more frustrated, the Witch turned and began pulling books violently from the shelves, searching through them for some way she could coax speech from her stubborn prisoner.
"There has to be some way to get you to talk! I will break you, Himemia, mark my words!" Althea hissed in frustration, flipping through page after page, seeking some kind of knowledge to aid her in her work.
She was so busy she failed to notice Anthy's searching eyes. Having born such pain for years, Anthy was so deadened to the pain that no number of tortures could truly break her. Seeing an old tome upon the shelf, the courageous girl slowly reached out, taking it from the shelf. She immediately took a quiet bite from the book, then another and another. The book quickly vanished into her throat, leaving nothing behind.
Althea turned back, grinning as she started clipping tiny electrical cables to certain needles. A hand in the darkness pulled a large switch. Anthy started jerking with painful spasms, quivering from the exquisite pain of the torture. But deeper in her mind, the young Witch was laughing through the pain. How much more being hated by everyone hurt that this! My friends suffered far worse, and so have I. Will you keep trying, Witch!?
Frustrated once again, Althea turned to her books once more, glaring as she scoured them for an answer to her dilemma. Reaching out again, Anthy took another book from the shelf, and began consuming it. Let her try, she is only giving me what I want. And Anthy continued to endure the pain, silently reveling in her victory over the ancient hag.
***
Slowly, a ship drifted along the coast, breaking free of the fog and sailing in towards the quiet harbor. Floating in the waters about it, hundreds of crows floated dead in the tide, seeming to draw after the ship's wake.
Stepping softly upon the deck, Edric watched the coastline, pushing his glasses further up onto his nose, watching the shore with amusement. Really grandmother, did you think you could hide your soul from me so easily? You have grown senile, your powers waning in your pride. Soon, I will make you pay for daring to oppose me.
The ship rocked in the shallow swells, the wind driving it into the harbor near the town. Faceless men leapt from the deck, securing ropes along the docks. A gangplank was extended down to the wooden walkway, allowing Edric passage to the shore. He stepped lightly, adjusting the elegant blue shirt he wore as he made his way into the city.
His clever eyes sought along the city's forlorn state, seeking something amongst the buildings and towers. Then his eyes settled upon the cliffside, where the great carving of a wolf's head thrust from the rock face, snarling out at the sea. There! That's the place I was looking for. Now, all that needs to be done is to arrange the pieces.
***
Asrad stepped up to the edge of the lake, a feral grin spread across his face as he drew out a cruelly curved dagger. Drawing the vicious edge across his left hand, he flung his blood from the wound out across the water, a look of ecstasy lighting in his eyes as he snarled at the unseen sky above.
The lake seemed to swell, sending water racing through a series of trenches hidden along the lake's edges. The trees swayed under a fierce wind, pressing up until they reached skyward, opening the canopy and revealing a massive platform hanging in the air far over their heads.
"Ah!" Saionji cried in astonishment at the sight. Water suddenly raced upward from the lake, twisting like a series of snakes. They twined together, forming into a long flight of stairs that climbed high over the woods, reaching out to the distant tower. "A Dueling Arena!"
"Wondrous, isn't it? The view is even better from up there, especially when I cast your head from it's side!" Asrad said, a cruel gleam in his eye. He turned to Meirk and his soldiers. "Take them to the arena. I can't wait to add another pair of photos to my necklace!"
They made their way up the stairs, growing ever closer to the massive marble platform. As they advanced, Saionji started to notice the skies around them. Thin ribbons of color seemed to dance about, changing shape and flow constantly. One moment, he was watching men leaping upon beasts with spears in hand, then a massive meadow filled with a stunning array of flowers. Cold, whipping snows, gravestones covered in blankets of white. Laughing rivers hopping over stones and through verdant valleys. Nights filled with stars hanging over children laying in grassy swards. Colorful leaves whipping about, driven by gales of wind. A thousand years of history and life passed before his eyes, then simply vanished from the winds.
He found himself looking about at the massive platform, this one adorned with an enormous sigil bearing four branches, each in a different season. He looked over to Asrad, who was now clothed in a long, flowing, sand-colored coat buttoned down the middle. Saionji realized he was now clothed in a similar manner, the coat flowing out in the winds that raced around them.
The guards stepped back, down the stairs, leaving Ambrosia standing near Saionji. She watched in fascination, unable to take her eyes from the spectacle. Meirk approached Asrad, a flowing red dress clothing her slender frame. She reached up to Asrad's high chest, placing a blood colored rose upon the left pocket of the garment. She then crossed the arena, drawing up to Saionji.
As she reached up and placed a teal rose upon his jacket, she spoke to him. "Make sure to take your Bride, or you will not be given the right to bear a sword here." Her whisper carried with it encouragement. "Be victorious, my Favored One. My life and your friend's now rest firmly in your hands."
Meirk drifted back across the field to where Asrad stood, allowing him to grab her firmly about her waist. He gripped her chest firmly, ripping a heavy, curved scimitar from her glowing body. Ambrosia gasped in horror at the sight, unsure what to make of what she had seen.
"It's alright, Ambrosia. This is only a part of the duel. He is taking the sword she bears from her, so that he can fight. I need to draw yours as well." Saionji explained, fervently hoping it wasn't always as painful as it was the time his was taken from him.
"If you say so, I'll do it." Ambrosia put on a brave face for her Prince. Saionji smiled back, his arm taking her gently around her body. As he leaned her back, his right hand hovered over her breast, bringing a deep, glowing light forth. Even as he leaned over her, his eyes met hers, and a passion seemed to ignite. The hilt of the sword thrust from her body, a katana like those he used. Drawing it gently, he pulled the sword free of her, bringing her body back up next to him.
Ambrosia let out a breath of exhilaration, her eyes trailing up Saionji's strong body to his dark eyes. She wanted to stay next to his warm body, feel his passionate embrace, touch his soft skin and hair just a little longer.
Looking back down to her, Saionji gave a small smile, then leaned forward and kissed her lightly upon her lips. The feelings within her erupted in a swell of emotion as he released her, returning his attention to the enemy at hand.
"If you are done playing with your whore, I will be slaughtering you now." Asrad said mockingly, raising his heavy sword.
"I'll make you eat those words!" Saionji replied, stung by his opponent's callous statement.
Rising his sword to his side, he raced at his foe, thrusting with terrible speed. Sidestepping the attack, Asrad threw Saionji aside, grinning as he advanced on his opponent. Saionji wasted no time, rolling and pulling himself back to a fighting stance, his sword at the ready.
"Die!" Asrad leapt, bringing his sword down on Saionji's katana, seeking to shatter the blade with his strike. His confidence evaporated as the blade not only held, but Saionji started pushing him back, step by step.
"You have hurt people, stepped on them, crushed their dreams!" Saionji whispered as he forced Asrad backwards, his strength seeming to grow as he pushed harder and harder. "You stole their lives, you took their Eternity, and for what? Your own pleasure. Now, vengeance has come for you!"
A look of horror crossed the Warlord's face as Saionji shoved, throwing him backwards. He scrambled desperately to his feet, bringing the sword up, parrying the seeking blows of Saionji's katana. His eyes sought wildly for a way out, something he could do to stop his relentless opponent. Then he spotted Ambrosia.
He continued holding off, backing away from Saionji as he circled about, bringing himself between Ambrosia and Saionji. Waiting for the right moment, he turned Saionji's attack right at the young woman. He laughed in triumph, bringing his own blade down to finish his foe as Saionji tried desperately to avoid hitting Ambrosia.
"Saionji, look out!" Ambrosia called, seeing Asrad swing at her Prince. The slashing blade missed his chest as he twisted away, but a long gash ripped at his back as he crashed to the ground, feeling a warm pain rush through him. I can't do it, I'm going to die... Saionji pulled himself to his hands and knees, scrambling to escape his opponent, then he heard her scream.
Ambrosia, unable to stand by any longer, had thrown herself onto Asrad's back, clawing at him with what little strength she had. "Leave him alone!"
"Get off me, you wretched creature!" He snarled, throwing her to the ground. He rose his sword to strike her down. His blade glittered with Saionji's blood as she cried out, but never found it's target. Saionji, seeing her peril, dove forward, wrapping his arms around her. The blade bit into his back, leaving a terrible wound in it's wake. Ambrosia looked up at him with teary eyes as he smiled down at her, blood flecking his lips. He slowly began pushing himself up to his feet.
"Still alive? Not for long!" Asrad struck him as he rose, each cutting deep into Saionji's back, but still he rose. Fear gripped his heart as he watched Saionji turn about, knocking his blade aside. "What are you!?" He said, fear gripping his voice.
"I am a Prince." Saionji said, driving his sword into the Warlord's chest, sending flower petals flying off into the breeze. His life trickling away, Asrad dropped to his knees, staring up at the foe he could not defeat.