Broken Wings
N.W. 69
Fading Centurions
It was an empty grave that Lloyd knelt before exactly sixty-seven years after first meeting the man whose name adorned the headstone.
Emil Castagnier was dead, his mana construct body returned to Ratatosk and his stone placed right next to Marta's.
Remembering that first meeting, that was less a meeting and more a depressingly one-sided battle, Lloyd couldn't help but smile.
Emil had come a long way from the awkward boy who thought Lloyd had killed his parents.
"I was not expecting to see you here so late."
Lloyd shifted, looking over his shoulder and smiling. "Hey, Tenebrae."
The Centurion of darkness moved like any big cat, even when sitting down, and Lloyd idly mused that he never had seen the rest of them.
Aqua was some cross between a fish, a cat, and a human, though she'd admitted that she'd started out less humanoid. Tenebrae was some odd hybrid of a dog and a cat. Solum was a frog. And Lloyd had it on good authority (here meaning Richter) that Ratatosk's base form was that of a squirrel.
He'd never seen the rest, never had a chance. He didn't understand what had happened, but he knew that Aqua, Tenebrae, and Solum were the only Centurions still active.
"I suppose I ought to be going," Tenebrae said after a while.
Lloyd got the feeling he didn't mean back to Ratatosk.
"You're fading next, aren't you? Like the other Centurions."
Tenebrae hummed. "The Knights are bound to Ratatosk through a Centurion anchor. Though it's possible for all eight Centurions to anchor Knights at the same time, the most I've ever seen active at any given time is five." Tenebrae gave him an amused look. "Three of those, you've met, and a fourth, you've met the echo of." So that had been during the Kharlan War... "Regardless... With Lord Emil dead, my purpose in this world is ended. Aqua remains for much the same reason."
"And Solum?"
"Solum remains so that Ratatosk may see Richter properly buried before he, too, fades from this realm."
Lloyd bowed his head. He'd been afraid that Tenebrae was going to say something like that. It was obvious from the way Richter and Ratatosk had spoken the last few times he'd visited that Ratatosk's days were numbered.
Oh, they might still be numbered well in the thousands, but that didn't change the fact that they were numbered.
"Why?" Lloyd asked softly.
Tenebrae didn't respond immediately, tail waving back and forth, eyes somewhat misted over even though they appeared locked on the gravestone in front of them. "Lord Ratatosk was the guardian of the Giant Kharlan Tree, and is tied to its unique mana to survive. In the absence of the tree, he relies on the remaining mana from it to support his existence. Because the Yggdrasill is the Spirit Martel's domain, the mana it produces is not compatible."
"So he's dying."
"Yes. Aqua and Solum will continue to pull the mana from the old regime through the Ginnungagap, keeping it from being spent by the humans, elves, and half-elves, while also prolonging Lord Ratatosk's life. But it will not last indefinitely. His claim that it would take him one thousand years to remove mana from all living things and recreate the seal between Aselia and Niflheim was a lie—that thousand years is, roughly, how long he has left to live. They will be finished around the second passing of Derris-Kharlan," the Centurion replied.
Lloyd sighed. "I'm guessing Richter's figured it out by now. Hard to hide anything from him, I swear..."
Tenebrae chuckled. "Indeed. Well. Are you going to hover over Lord Emil's grave all night, or are you going to go deal with those skirmishes that Solum likes complaining about?"
Lloyd blinked, then frowned. A glance at Tenebrae—amusement always was the black cat's default expression—and then he stood up. "Where?"
"North of Sybak. Something about half-elves and Ozette. I never bother to listen for long; Solum can go on for hours complaining about humans and their ability to fight each other seemingly indefinitely."
Lloyd knew of the area, and knew why it was a problem, too. While Sybak, once one of the worst places to be a half-elf, was now a veritable haven for them, Ozette still bore a grudge against those of mixed blood. There had been a lot of talk of trying to sneak in and cause damage.
He sighed, blue-green light suddenly flooding the graveyard, even as he took a few steps back and bowed his head.
"No rest for the weary, huh, Emil? ...Goodbye, little brother."
One, two, three powerful flaps of his wings, and Lloyd was far enough above the graveyard that he could only barely make out Tenebrae in front of Emil's grave.
And then, the most surprising thing...
Tenebrae ran through the air, paws striking puffs of shadow as the Centurion raced after him, and Lloyd stared for a moment. "I thought..."
"Lord Ratatosk has enough mana to last him most of the millennium," Tenebrae said. "And we Centurions can use the Yggdrasill's mana if it is siphoned through our monster servants. I suppose someone ought to be keeping you on your toes."
It was all he could do not to simply stare.
Then again... This was Tenebrae. Unpredictable when it suited him, and stubborn as a rock more often than not.
He chuckled a bit and then shot the Centurion a challenging grin. "Think you can keep up?"
Tenebrae's snort said he did. Lloyd wanted to prove him wrong.