Diplomacy.
An art, to many. A science, to some. A means by which conflict can be avoided...ideally.
In reality, there are many perspectives on the nature of diplomacy: that it was merely the most supreme act of war, in which victory was obtained without fighting; that it was a means of showing softness without demonstrating hard violence; that it was the last resort in all cases, where fighting simply was no longer possible; that it was merely a facade, cloaking the truth of violence which backed all decisions of state, and nation.
On, and on, and on.
In the end, violence was a fact of life: there were those who had a taste for it, just as there were those who felt compelled to use it for the sake of something beyond themselves (whether that 'something' was for good or ill). To stave off violence, words were necessary.
Yet choosing the right words — for such was the nature of fallen man, that the same word with the same meaning could nonetheless elicit different reactions — could mean all the difference between preventing violence...or inflaming it anew...
xxxx
Within a training arena, Dunban and Mòrag sparred in relative tranquility.
Off to the side, Rex, Mythra, Nimue, and Brighid were observing as they engaged in casual conversation; Brighid wasn't even providing much ether via her Affinity bond: just enough to equalize any physical disparity between the duelists (which, seeing as how Dunban was only using one arm, was rather minimal). "Do they always spar with such intensity?" asked Nimue.
"Dunban has been the liaison from Keves who has most often been sent to negotiate with Mor Ardain on behalf of Queen Melia," explained Brighid. "I believe it's not only because of a similarity in demeanor with Lady Mòrag, but also because his prior military experience rendered him the most appropriate person to speak with Alrest's foremost military power."
Rex winced at the force the two duelists were striking with in the midst of their 'spar'. "And I take it they usually go this hard?"
"It was Lady Mòrag's idea, to convince more 'skeptical' hardliners in the Ardainian military and government that our Kevesi counterparts were respectable. Since then, it's become routine whenever Dunban visits for them to spar at least once." The sound of clashing swords echoed through the arena.
"That's some 'spar'," dryly said Rex.
Brighid simply sipped from her tea instead of answering.
"...anyhow," said Mythra, gazing toward where Nimue's Core Crystal would be (hidden as it was by her paper gown). "What exactly happened that resulted in Taion becoming a Blade Eater?"
Nimue slowly blinked. "Pardon?"
"I mean, I've been around long enough to know how different the Affinity bond and the interchange of ether feels by comparison with a normal Blade and Driver," she said, without disclosing just who she had been around to get an understanding of what that was like. "It feels different than a Flesh Eater, too. It's subtle...but it's there, if you know what to look for."
"...how interesting. Your demeanor doesn't give off such an erudite impression," admitted the purple-haired Blade, her crystalline hands shimmering in the training arena's light.
Brighid barely hid a smirk as she remarked, "You have also noticed?"
Mythra, admirably enough, ignored the playful ribbing. "Ignoring that..." Focusing back on Taion's Blade, she pushed further. "I notice you didn't deny it."
"...the impression given by Oleg is that you folks would be relatively understanding," Nimue admitted. "Even if attitudes towards Flesh Eaters and Blade Eaters have become more tolerant since the nations unified under the banner of Agnus, it's...difficult to change attitudes that have been ingrained for centuries."
"That's fair enough," relented Rex, idly watching as Mòrag pressed hard against Dunban's defense; observing the duel was almost an exercise in frustration as the two warriors kept dodging practically every single blow. "Kind of impressive, that they're still so agile at their age."
Brighid frowned. "Lady Mòrag is aging quite gracefully, thank you very much," she retorted, speaking in defense of her Driver.
Rex held up his hands. "Come on, you know I was complimenting 'em." Honestly, he was more surprised by Dunban's agility and dexterity. Didn't Shulk say he was over fifty...?
Nimue giggled at the interplay, before looking back at Mythra. "As for what happened that convinced me to bond a part of my Core Crystal with him...the circumstances are rather personal. You would have to ask Taion for permission first," she said; however, her contrition was nonetheless apparent, judging by how two of her Mondo dolls detached from her gown, standing on her shoulders to bow apologetically. "Might I ask why you wish to know?"
Mythra, crossing her arms with a huff, replied, "Just trying to get a feel for the kids who are going to question Dirk, that's all...was kind of hoping he would be willing to hold back the High Entia girl who has it out for my son."
"I've found that Miss Eunie is quite opinionated. I'm honestly rather surprised that Taion would bond so readily with her; she didn't seem like his type." Nimue's frown was a subtle thing: a minor ripple upon a still lake, giving no indication of how deep it went. "I find myself rather envious of her, to be honest: my memories of Aionios are fairly limited. More akin to impressions, than actual recollections. From what I've been told, it's because I don't have an 'Interlink partner' to provide that 'spark'...and yet, through my Core Crystal, Taion and I have a bond. Should that not be enough for me to also remember?"
The Blade's sorrow was palpable; enough that Brighid — once she provided a bit of ether to help bolster Mòrag, busy as the woman was parrying Dunban's blows — was compelled to reply, "For the vast majority of individuals, their memories of Aionios have returned in a rather haphazard manner. We've yet to divine a definitive reason as to why, unfortunately. If there is a genetic, or some other physical component, I'm sure we'll be find the root cause in time. If it's related to spiritual or metaphysical matters, however..." The Jewel of Mor Ardain trailed off, because there was no need to say anything more.
"...unfortunate," murmured Nimue. "For what it's worth, I believe Taion will try to treat your son fairly. I...can't quite speak for Miss Eunie, however..."
Mythra stared evenly at the woman before sighing; the forlorn remorse of a mother who knew not how her child would fare. "...guess we can only wait and see..."
At that moment, there was a sudden shift in the duel: Dunban's sword got inside the guard of the Whipsword in Mòrag's right hand; with a growl, the Special Inquisitor forced their blades upward, twisting at the wrist to try and influence her opponent to let go. Dunban, surprisingly, pushed in with his right shoulder, shoving Mòrag back a few steps; the awkward positioning forced her to let go of the right Whipsword, not that it stopped her from rearing her left blade to counter. However, the older swordsman used his right arm for the first time in the duel, pushing against Mòrag's left arm from the inside, to her visible shock; Dunban used this opportunity to bring his sword down diagonally, striking Mòrag hard with the blunt edge. When the Special Inquisitor slid back with a grimace, Dunban chuckled in spite of himself. "Point to me."
Mòrag scowled, narrowing her eyes at the man's right arm. "I was under the impression based on prior meetings that you had lost the use of it."
"As far as normal combat goes, yes; I can still move it, and grip objects with it." With a sudden twinge, his smile suddenly seemed pained. "Albeit with difficulty, I must admit."
With a stern snort, Mòrag stomped forward, raising his right arm and peeling away at the sleeve; even from the sidelines, those observing could see dark scars weaving up the limb, to the point where it was obvious that his entire right hand was discolored relative to his actual skin tone. "With difficulty, you said?"
Dunban didn't reply, busy as he was grimacing.
The stress lines on Mòrag's face made her anger all the more terrible to witness. "You once told me that a former comrade of yours had called you a 'Beast' because of your ferocity on the battlefield...even though, in truth, it was an insult, describing how little he thought of you. If that be so, why prove his pejorative true by doing something so foolish during a spar?" Mòrag promptly pointed toward the exit. "To the medic. Now."
Dunban, looking rather austere with the salt-and-pepper streaks in his long hair, suddenly softened. "As you wish, my Lady." Dunban slowly sheathed his sword, letting his right arm hang limply as he departed.
Mòrag glanced over towards Brighid. "I'll be back once I make sure this fool receives the proper medical attention." The Special Inquisitor promptly followed Dunban.
"...well, that was a thing," remarked Rex.
"Indeed," commented Brighid.
Mythra looked at Mòrag's first Blade with an arched eyebrow. "Are they...?"
"It is not proper to gossip about Lady Mòrag," calmly said Brighid, even as she sipped her tea...with conspicuous volume.
Nimue changed the subject. "Do you think the conversation with Dirk is going well?"
"If it isn't, Aegaeon and Oleg are standing guard; they'll intervene if things get too heated," assuaged Rex.
Mythra snorted with disbelief. "Given how Oleg's been, I wouldn't be surprised if he lets a fight occur just to see what happens..."
xxxx
As far as Taion was concerned, he had not survived for as long as he had due to his own merits alone.
The last lesson from his mother had been on the importance of practicality and pragmatism.
(On the former Titan of Acedius, its population had dwindled for years due to a decline in ether output from the Titan itself, rendering its environment desolate. Alas, for those without the means — much less the willingness, attached as they were to their homeland — to leave, it had made them a prime target for exploitation. However, said exploitation had been the means which his mother — in long decline from a terminal illness — had implored her Blade, Nimue, to take action by. "You say they are seeking volunteers for linking Blades with someone other than their Driver? And that they're doing it in return for resources?" murmured the tired woman, her thin hands resting tiredly in Nimue's crystalline palms. "I am not long for this world...and there is no guarantee that my boy will be able to synchronize with you. Furthermore...all of your memories will be gone, upon my death. Taion would be as a stranger to you." The woman's gaunt face — pale, in spite of her dark skin — glanced over at her child, who was staring at her with a pained yet stoic look. "This is selfish of me...but if you have any love for me, Nimue...please accept a bond with Taion. Be there for my son, as I cannot." At those words, the purple-haired Blade could only solemnly nod, even as she silently wept.)
The first lesson from his current mentor — even though Taion had privately considered Oleg more of a father than the man who had been absent from life for as long as he could remember, for Taion's mother had steadfastly refused to talk about him — had been about the need to be thorough.
(Shortly after the foreign interlopers — mostly Urayan and Ardainian mercenaries, headed by a singular Indoline — had turned Taion into a Blade Eater, their entire operation had been put to the torch by a single man. "I was wondering where the sudden increase in the supply of Core Crystals had come from. Extracting all viable Crystals from a dying Titan, then subjecting the meager remaining population to military experimentation: an efficient, if deplorable method," remarked the man who had only introduced himself as Oleg; through nothing more than martial arts supplemented by his serpentine Blade, the Indoline had slaughtered the entire mercenary force. "A good thing, that this was an illegal operation. I'm sure the Praetor would be pleased that it's been stamped out." The Indoline held by Oleg could only gurgle, as their throat was constricted by the martial artist's iron grip. "A shame that you were unable to speak a word in your defense. Truly." He promptly broke the Indoline's neck, letting the mercenary(?) fall to the ground. With a sigh, Oleg looked away from his bloody handiwork, only to stare. "Hello, young man. I am Oleg; what's your name?")
(It would be many years until Taion would realize that Oleg had been speaking with a very dry sort of sarcasm, referencing the Praetor's alleged lack of knowledge about the Acedius operation.)
The second lesson from his mentor was that there had to be a place for sentimentality.
(Taion's mother had passed shortly after a sliver of Nimue's Core Crystal had been bonded with him. Even so, Oleg had helped dig her grave. "I have heard tales of Acedius: only Tantal is reputed to be more isolated. And yet, those I've come across in my years have spoken with an undeniable yet sorrowful fondness for their dying homeland." As he kept a quiet vigil over his mother's grave alongside Nimue — who had not returned to her Core Crystal upon Mom's passing, so she was practically his Blade for all intents and purposes — Oleg added, "To be attached to your homeland is not a sin. Yet if you wish to move forward, you may have to leave some things behind...yet, that does not mean they must be forgotten." Oleg quietly departed, letting him and Nimue mourn in silence. However, before long, his Blade quietly asked, "Taion...what do you want to do now?" In the end, there was only one practical option.)
For all the difficulties that had come with being Oleg's assistant, Taion had considered it a valuable endeavor. His regret over Nimue essentially binding her life with his own — for once he died, she would not return to her Core Crystal — was...a work in progress.
That was probably the most important lesson he had learned: life was all about being a work in progress.
(Nearly a quarter of a century after Taion had become a Blade Eater, he watched from afar as Acedius finally gave up the ghost. The whale-like Titan, its pectoral fins appearing akin to massive wings, moaned piteously as it emerged from the depths of the Cloud Sea, almost as if reaching in vain for the heavens. The great crystal on its chest flashed, only to finally go dark; with a lumbering splash, the Titan finally slumped over, sinking beneath the cloudy waves for the final time. As his mentor calmly wrote down the precise time and place of the Titan's death — to provide to Nopon merchants that would update all the maps throughout the various guilds — he and Nimue simply watched in silence as their homeland vanished forever. Even if they had known it was coming for years...there was a still a somber weight to the whole affair. Yet, he resolved to make sure it all meant something.)
(Little did Taion know, but this Titan's death cry had also been witnessed by another, smaller Titan: one ferrying a young salvager who would become Driver of an Aegis within a fortnight...)
It was that disposition which enabled Taion to take stock of the current situation with some measure of detachment. Seven young people sat at a table: Mio, Noah, Eunie, himself, Lanz, Sena, and finally Dirk when going clockwise around. Yet, despite their seeming youth, they all bore memories of a time not their own...albeit some were far more 'complete' than others.
The tension was palpable. As such, Taion felt compelled to break it. "I suppose it would be proper to explain why we're doing this," he said, looking directly at Dirk.
"Oh?" Dirk couldn't help but sneer. "It isn't just an excuse to glare daggers at me and wish I was dead?"
"You ain't doin' yourself any favors," growled Eunie, her arms crossed with defiance.
Dirk answered Eunie in kind. "Then stop looking at me like that. I already got enough of an idea about 'D' from my sister and Mum; I don't need you rubbing it in my face."
"Well, deal with it," huffed the High Entia. "D was bloody awful; can't blame me for bein' suspicious."
"D was apparently awful to everyone," groused Dirk. "So what the hell did I even do to get you so hot under the collar?"
"Calm down you lot," said Lanz, sounding exhausted by their back-and-forth already. "This is-"
Eunie shot to her feet. "You stabbed me in the eye. Slowly. And then mocked me for it, like an arsehole."
"...is that it?" grumbled Dirk.
Mio shot her brother a look. "Dirk."
"You...!" Eunie snarled, looking at the blond with legitimate rage. "What do you mean, is that it?!"
"Can't say I recall that particular instance. I've got at least two memories I can think of where you and I killed each other on the battlefield." That admission seemed to surprise Eunie and the others; so much so, that Dirk remarked, "Does that really surprise you? I thought you lot remembered everything from that world."
Taion intervened. "Judging by what I've gathered from the others: Eunie, Lanz, Sena, and myself remember our most recent life from Aionios. Mio and Noah, on the other hand, have memories of numerous lives from both before and after they became Moebius...although, as they've also confessed, their recollection is not precise."
Noah nodded. "It would be like having many lives' worth of memories: we're not going to remember everything with perfect accuracy...but theoretically, we could remember any given event from a life that Mio and I have lived."
Dirk mulled over those words, looking between Mio and Sena before looking down at his hands. "It's strange. You talk about those memories as if they were yours. As if that life was yours. But the things I'm seeing...it's like I'm watching a movie featuring someone that looks like me." The movie metaphor elicited slight winces from the six Ouroboros: Noah and Mio most of all. "It doesn't feel like me. Even if they were by some 'version' of me...it wasn't me."
Taion frowned, sensing the hesitation. "Are you sure?"
Dirk's glare was a frightful thing to witness. "Excuse me?"
"My mentor, Oleg, has been a consultant on numerous cases of individuals — both in Keves and Agnus — who have struggled with their memories of Aionios. There is certainly difficulty when it comes to apparent personality changes...however, the reason these cases have all been so difficult, and have required such intensive therapy for many, is precisely because they felt that those memories belonged to themselves. In other words, the jarring inconsistencies were so distressing because they nonetheless felt 'lived in'." Adjusting his glasses, Taion sternly remarked, "I sincerely doubt that you're an outlier, which means that these memories you're experiencing have been from your own personal viewpoint, and not from the viewpoint of an outsider who happens to look like you. Otherwise, you wouldn't be nearly so distraught, would you?"
Taion's words seemed to be right on the money, because Dirk looked furious. "Who the hell do you think you are?" growled Dirk, who was only kept in his seat by Mio's hand on his shoulder. "You think you know me, do you?!"
"As you are now? Not at all. However, based on prior trends, I am simply making the logical assumption that your memories are not merely of D, but as D; they are from your perspective, and not some unassociated third party. And until you're honest about that, you won't be able to move forward."
"Parroting your teacher, eh?" grumbled the blond, crossing his arms with a huff. "It's all fine and dandy for you. You all have memories of being heroes; of saving the day, and stopping the bad guys. Who wouldn't want to remember any of that?"
"Hey now," interrupted Lanz, sounding somewhat softer than Taion had expected; his brawl with Dirk the other day must have truly been something for Lanz to interject on the blond's behalf. "It's not like we were perfect. Before we became Ouroboros, the world didn't allow us to be anything other than soldiers. It's just the way it was."
Sena nodded emphatically. "Lanzy's right, Dirk; I'm sure if you'd had a choice, you would have been able to be something other than Moebius-"
"Don't patronize me, Sennie," retorted Dirk, looking at the Ardainian princess with a frustrated look. "We're not the same! Even with all the lives you had before becoming this 'Ouroboros', you still never become some sort of, snuffing serial killer who collected heads of all things!"
(Taion couldn't but notice how Eunie grimaced at her own point from yesterday being brought up by Dirk of all people. He would've bet that she was perfectly split between feeling vindicated and annoyed.)
Dirk wasn't done. "And even with my sister and her boyfriend becoming Moebius, they certainly never did what this 'D' did, either! Hell, if I were a betting man, I bet 'M' and 'N' had a role to play in defeating Moebius, didn't they?!"
There was a noticeable bout of silence. "Ehm...about that," nervously said Sena.
"I was joking," snarled Dirk, now looking well and truly irritable. "Figures. D's a villain all the way through the end; M and N get to have their redemption; how is that supposed to be fair?!"
Noah stood up, looking at Dirk with empathy in his eyes. "Nothing about Aionios was fair. We all made choices we regretted...but we found a way to move forward. You can too."
"...you really don't get it, do you?" Dirk chuckled bitterly, sounding strangely despondent. "None of you do."
Taion frowned, feeling somewhat perturbed by the strange mania in Dirk's tone. "Would you be so kind as to elaborate?" Keep things cool. Keep calm.
"I've told Mio, and others. But it doesn't seem to be sticking," huffed the blond, rising to his feet. "Mio's changed. Sennie's changed. And I bet if you asked anyone who knew you, you, you, or you," he said, pointing at Noah, Eunie, Taion, and Lanz in succession, "they'd say the same: that you're different. That you're acting like different people."
This point wasn't one that Taion could categorically deny; not only had most of his personal hang-ups with his mentor seemingly evaporated (since the context of 'Teach' provided a different context than that of 'Oleg'), but even his Blade seemed somewhat more distant than usual...as though she was unsure of how to approach him. Hmm. I might have to have a talk with Nimue after this...just to clear the air. It seemed that the others were of the same epiphany, judging by the complicated expressions on their faces. Ah...I think I get it. "You believe that if you remember a sufficient number of memories, you'll essentially 'become' D in truth?"
"And someone finally gets it," snarled Dirk, nonetheless seeming relieved. "If you lot changed...what chance do I got?"
"...but it wasn't a matter of degrees," admitted Eunie, sounding less suspicious than she had at the beginning. "It wasn't until I shook hands with Taion that everything clicked. Same with everyone else."
Noah nodded. "Which means it wouldn't be instant unless you met Joran."
"That a fact, eh? Then he can stay far away from me," growled Dirk.
Noah seemed undeterred. "I had to face my own faults and sins honestly before I was able to accept where I went wrong...and even now, I still feel that sense of self-doubt. Right now, you're surrounded by people who care for you, and a family that loves you...even if you remembered everything about being D, I don't think you're fated to be D."
"...you can afford to believe that. I can't," confessed Dirk, his fists shaking and his upper lip trembling. "You talk about choice; that's rich. The people you used to be didn't get a choice about becoming who you were in Aionios. There was nothing wrong with Mio. There was nothing wrong with Sena." Looking at the other four, he added, "And I bet the people who know you would have said there was nothing wrong with who you used to be either!"
"...I get why you're frustrated...but change is a part of life. Even if it's scary," admitted Eunie. "But Aionios was real. We can't change that."
Dirk snorted. "Watch me." Without another word, he walked away.
Mio got to her feet. "Dirk, where are you-?"
"I'll fight, sis; I won't change, no matter how many memories come my way. You say Aionios was real; far as I'm concerned, it's a damn nightmare that should have never been." Dirk jabbed a thumb at his Core Crystal, forcing a bit of ether through to make it gleam. "That's my promise to you all. So you can keep that little bastard away from me," he said, referring to Joran.
Although Eunie and Lanz bristled at how Dirk referred to Joran, Taion still pushed. "And what if you fail?" he challenged. "It's important to have a contingency; what if you do become D again?"
"I won't," he retorted.
"That's not good enough," insisted Taion.
Dirk glared over his shoulder. "It'll have to be. Because if I don't...who do you think is gonna be responsible for putting me down?" His smile was strangely bittersweet, even as he looked at Mio with fondness. "I'd be breaking rule three of the Salvager's Code."
Taion didn't get the reference; neither did anyone else, save Mio, who suddenly looked sorrowful.
Dirk left it at that, as he opened the door and walked away. Aegaeon and Oleg both looked in, as if scanning for collateral damage. "Hmm. Remarkably restrained," mused the Indoline.
"What did he mean by this Salvager's Code business?" asked Eunie.
"...a set of rules for Dad's profession. More like guidelines, really. Rule three starts with 'make a girl cry? That's not gonna fly'," explained Mio, her ears drooping with sadness. "And he's right...because if he became D, our family would be the ones who would put him down. It would be our responsibility."
"Mio," murmured Noah.
"It's true, though; our parents wouldn't let anyone else do it. They'd see it as the family's duty...and they'd do it, no matter how much it hurt." Needless to say, if their family had to kill Dirk because he had turned into D...Mother, Mom, and Mum would definitely cry. She and Glimmer would, too. (She wouldn't put it past Dad to cry, either.) "That's just...how would it go..."
Sena pouted, loosing a small whine that perfectly communicated her dismay. "Why does it feel like we didn't accomplish anything...?"
"We accomplished plenty," assured Taion. "We know where we stand, insofar as Dirk is concerned. He is fully committed to not becoming D...and is accepting of the fact that, if he does become D, he'll be terminated without hesitation."
"...when you put it like that, it's hard to hold a grudge," admitted Eunie, even if it looked like the admission pained her. "But don't worry, Mio luv; if D ever does come back, you'll have plenty of people willing to do the job of stopping him. Your family shouldn't have to be the ones to do it."
Mio quietly nodded, unwilling to speak, yet seemingly grateful for the offer.
"...I suppose we can only do what's in our power to change," said Noah, summarizing the group's position. "We have our own path to walk...and Dirk has his. If he wants help, we'll be there...likewise, if he goes down a dark path. And that's the way it'll be."
At this, the rest of Ouroboros could only nod.
xxxx
And so the passage of fate was set into motion once more...
xxxx
Author's Note: If you think this story is anywhere near done, you're mistaken.
Because next time...is a time skip.