5. Wonder

He walked through the the hallways of Lazulis Castle quietly, moonlight shimmering from the windows. He did his best to stay within the shadows, within darkness, tried to keep his footsteps as quiet as he could.

He cursed quietly to himself.

The Lance isn't in the armory.

It then transitioned to—

Dagran.

"Good luck," he said.

Damn it.

He slowly opened the door to a room, finding none other than Count Arganan asleep in bed. Walking into the room and slowly closing the door behind him, he approached the older man lying in the bed.

So, this is where the Count of Lazulis sleeps. I could kill him now.

It was true. He could kill him, kill his enemy as he was sleeping.

But wasn't that also pathetic that he, (formerly) King of the Gurak (he heard from whispering guards and servants that Zesha took over as King following his death) had to resort to something as low as killing the enemy in his sleep to conquer them?

It truly did feel pathetic.

Fine. He gets away for now...what is this?

That was the moment he noticed a M-shaped mark just below Arganan's collarbone. He blinked, lowering a hand to trace it gently. He remembered hearing of something like this before...

That was when the mark glowed slightly, a faint blue, before fading. It glowed again moments later, but faded out, and continued the pattern. Zangurak pulled his hand away, gazing at it curiously. He definitely read something about this before, no, wrote about it before. He had a dream once, back when he possessed the Gurak's half of the Outsider's power.

Mitra's Bride. It has to be.

...Shit he's Mitra's Bride. Him of all people.

I need to tread carefully...

Arganan woke up. His hand of flesh reached straight for his scar, touching it.

He thought he felt someone touching his scar. The touch...the skin was rough, but gently tracing his scar. As if it knew that it was familiar. Sitting up on bed, he looked around, before noticing that the door leading to outside his room was not completely closed.

Somebody came into his room and touched his mark.

Why?

There was a knock at his door, and he quickly grabbed a robe (he'd been sleeping naked more often lately, he felt warmer than he usually did when he slept—was it because of the fact that Mitra's spirit was sharing his body too or something like that), wrapping it about himself and trying to look decent as he opened the door despite lacking an arm (it was still resting on the bedtable).

Dagran's golden eyes bore straight into his, and Arganan found himself stepping back slightly.

"Dagran..."

Dagran looked, well, the same as he always did.

Save for the large rip in his shirt with a scar on his chest.

Arganan winced. "They stabbed you?"

Dagran frowned, putting a hand over his chest scar. "Zael had to." He managed, his voice slightly hoarse. He swallowed a bit before continuing. "It was the only way. I know it's sudden, but do you mind if I come in? I've been running around the castle all night finding a hiding spot for Zangurak's Lance and I need a place to take a breather since I got that accomplished."

Arganan nodded, quickly letting him in. It felt strange, seeing Dagran again. Yes, the two had often discussed together, in meetings and all, but this was far different than usual conversation. Both of them were supposed to be dead originally, for starters.

The other thing was...wait, what did Dagran say about last night?

"Dagran?"

Dagran looked to him, closing the door behind them. "Yes?"

"Why were you running around all night and trying to find a hiding spot for Zangurak's Lance, which I assume is his only weapon?"

Dagran winced. "Do I really need to tell you right now, Count?"

Arganan gave him a look, trying to be intimidating as possible despite being so indecently dressed at the moment. "Yes."

"Okay...okay." The two sat down on Arganan's bed, and Arganan looked to Dagran, who took a deep breath and started speaking, looking to him. "The reason I was running around last night with Zangurak's Lance was because I know that Zangurak is in this castle. He followed me. I've been trying to stay out of his sight while trying to get the Zan Lance—that's the name of his weapon. I found it in the armory, guessed it would be the first place Zangurak would look, and so I took it last night after running into you and the Gurak brothers. That's why I asked you stay silent last night—if word spread around the castle about me, Zangurak would have been more frantic to find his weapon."

"Why would Zangurak be so desperate to get his weapon back?" The older man asked. "Couldn't he just use his Outsider's—" He stopped midsentence, remembering what Zael told him about Zangurak ripping off his arm, Dagran stabbing that same arm to obtain...

He looked to Dagran's arm.

Sure enough, the orangey-red mark on Dagran's hand was there.

"Oh." Arganan managed. "Right. Should I assume he's lacking an arm also?"

Dagran nodded. "Yeah. He is."

"Right." The two were silent for a moment.

Arganan tried to think. Zangurak was lurking about in this castle...

"Do you know where Zangurak is, Dagran?"

"You mean, where exactly he is in the castle? I've got no clue, sorry."

Before either of them could say much else, that was when Asthar entered the room.

"Count Arganan? Are you awa—" He stopped mid-sentence, his gaze snapping towards Dagran. "I..." the General's words caught in his throat, unsure of what to say.

Dagran couldn't bring himself to say anything, and Arganan winced.

Victim, meet killer again. Killer, meet victim again.

Well this is just lovely.

"Come in." Arganan managed, making eye contact with the formerly-dead General. "Neither of us are biting."

Asthar nodded, closing the door behind him quietly before turning to them. "I'm not quite sure what to say now, I admit. I hadn't expected your return, Dagran."

Dagran took a deep breath, looking to him. "I kind of expected yours. Considering that Jirall, Zangurak, Zepha and Count Arganan are alive, it should be expected that both of us would be alive too."

"True." They were silent once again before Asthar spoke. "Do you know what really happened back then, now?"

"Yeah." Dagran nodded. "I ran into Therius last night while trying to hide Zangurak's Lance and he told me everything." He looked up at Asthar. "I'm..sorry. For killing you without thinking, without really looking into it."

Asthar shook his head, smiling slightly. "No, lad. It's fine. It's fine for you to be angry about it all. I was only taking responsibility. It didn't feel right for me not to do that. I was their leader, I failed them."

"But..." Dagran then paused, "Never mind."

"It's alright."

Arganan could sense that there was far less animosity between them. The air felt clearer between them for sure.

His chest felt warm again, and he looked down to see the mark on his chest glowing again. He could feel someone's presence.

"Zangurak?" Arganan let the word escape him.

Asthar looked to Arganan's mark. "Count Arganan, your mark...what you said, do you sense him? Zangurak, that is?"

Arganan nodded, getting up. "I do." He managed. He could feel the anger boiling desperate need to make up for lack of arm must find it within him. "We have to find Zangurak before he finds the Lance. And I know he's headed towards it."

"Damn it." Dagran muttered, getting up. "I know where it is, so I'll go ahead. Maybe I can at least stall him until others arrive, or I can make some kind of signal so others will know..." He rushed out of the room before the other two could stop him.

Asthar looked to the door. "I saw the mark on Dagran's hand—the same mark of the Outsider that Zangurak once had. Zael visited me earlier—he told me what happened with him. Poor lad. I'm just glad he has some control over it now despite it overwhelming him back then."

"I know." Arganan stood, walking to the door, but he felt Asthar close a hand about his right wrist. He looked back to him, glaring at him. "What is it?"

"Count Arganan," Asthar managed, "Are you sure you want to go follow? I can follow Dagran."

"Yes, I want to follow. All of you came back to life because of me and I can't just stand here and do nothing about it." The former Count sharply replied. "Now let go!"

"Count Arganan." Asthar's voice was solemn, but eyes were calm and...full of some mirth? "You're not decently dressed and you lack an arm. I'll help you dress first, and then we'll rush after them."

Arganan felt his face heat up. Damn, what was he thinking!? "Erm, right." He managed. "That would be good."

Jirall sat on the side of the bed in his room, shivering. He still felt cold, and he was shivering. Apparently he'd obtained some minor hypothermia while being on the rotten, cold ship but it would go away after some warmth and sleep and stuff such as that.

A nice welcome present for being alive again, isn't it?

Sleep helped. Sleep helped a lot. His mind was much better, much clearer now. Not completely clear, but clear enough that he could comprehend almost everything around him.

Calista was married to Zael.

It felt sick to him. All his life, he'd pined after her, only for Zael to snatch her away and it hurt so much—

"Jirall?"

He looked to his left to see none other than Calista walk in. She seemed worried.

"Can we..." She bit her lower lip, making eye contact with him. "Can we talk?"

He just stared at her for a moment. Why would she want to talk to him? She hated him, hates him, doesn't she...?

"Yes."