22nd Red Ash Moon, 908 – Nearing the Verde-Echo Bell Border
The journey back to the Verde Kingdom was wrought with intrigue and conversation. With the reunion of the two parties, they discussed much of what they experienced and learned after recuperating during the ride. There was far too much speculation and questions to cover in the span of a day. Much of their theorizing had to be spread out in bursts as to not overwhelm themselves.
Luna took note of everything brought up in conversation, editing it on a new page to clear up the flow of information. She tapped her quill against the page, skimming through her notes in awe. "What in Xerneas' name have we uncovered?"
Jason rested against the wagon, eyes closed and arms crossed. "We're still trying to figure that much out. We could only uncover so much from the abandoned church."
"And the slab the old man hoarded away only provided so many details," Jet added. "Even with all of that, it still feels like an incomplete puzzle."
"True, but a puzzle that leads to something far greater than we imagined."
Lucient adjusted his spectacles. "So, if what we're led to believe is true, Last Autumn is looking to uncover this mysterious Logos from the underground of the Great Ruins. For what purpose specifically, we've yet to uncover."
Luna nodded. "All we know is that Logos is some kind of archive of knowledge, though it may also be some kind of ancient entity. It was created or specifically exploited by the Arbiters when they first came to this land. Still, its true purpose remains unknown. However, from what you discovered…"
Jason tilted his head back, glaring at the sky. "It's the key to ruling over Virdis."
"…" Melissa turned away from the conversation, having not much to offer in the way of theories. She crossed her arms over the wagon and rested her head on them as she watched the landscape slowly drift by.
Luna noticed Melissa's melancholy reaction before frowning at Jason. "And…then there's what we discovered about Last Autumn's true motives."
Basil smirked. "Darby Tetrarch. Amano Riko. Evangelina Visconti. Three candidates selected to take the true throne of Virdis and unite the land under a single vision. Terrowin is seeking out an heir to utilize Logos' full potential and restore order. It sounds like a noble goal until you remember what he's done to achieve it."
Avel scoffed. "Noble goal? Each candidate he selected has a mountain of baggage that would do more harm than good. If you ask me, he cares more about someone putting a stop to the internal wars than actually restoring peace. We have firsthand experience with two of them and what they're capable of."
Jason scratched his chin. "And then there's Lady Amano. Given what we know of her grandfather and how he went about succeeding rulership from the previous emperor, she would be a dangerous enemy to confront."
Zephora, who was resting on the wagon's floor with her one arm folded behind her head, glanced up at them. "If I were Terrowin, it'd make sense to gather personalities like those."
"What do you mean?"
"Think about it. That lecherous creep singlehandedly destroyed our resources and connections through a convoluted scheme. And these new revelations about Princess Visconti show what kind of demented mind she wields. Take all of that plus the warlike mentality of Great Gate, and you have a recipe for three of the most dangerous minds willing to reshape Virdis into their ideal world. Even if Terrowin is serious about giving them access to Logos or not, they make for powerful allies with an enticing prize like that dangling in their faces."
"…" Jason sighed. "In other words, they'll do everything in their power to earn his favor."
Jet frowned. "But Melissa was supposed to be one of their candidates, right?"
The Forester leader glanced warily at the silent Buneary, who was still staring out into the landscape. He sighed before turning back to Jet. "We don't know exactly what possessed Roscoe to withhold Melissa from those dealings, but let's be grateful he did so."
Felix frowned. "But Master Harlow isn't like any of those jerks. Why would they want her as the heir to Virdis?"
Victoria pouted. "Yeah! She's not some tyrant who would go around hurting people for laughs! She's too good for that!"
"…I think that's exactly why I was chosen." Their eyes darted to the Buneary as she finally spoke up. She rested her head deeper into her arms and sighed aloud. "I might be tugging on false hopes, but I never remember a time Father pushed me to take on such cruel teachings as a leader. I was raised on the principles taught by my mother." She reached into her uniform and pulled out her locket, caressing it gently in her grip. "Father changed after Mother passed away, and he stopped putting as much focus on my studies. I'm not sure if he truly meant what he said about being unfit to rule…or if he meant I was unfit to rule as Virdis' queen."
Jason frowned. "Unfit to utilize the secrets of Logos, you mean."
"…Yeah."
Zephora sat up. "If they were adamant about having you in power, that means they saw your potential to lead Virdis to success. Almost like Darby, Riko, and Evangelina are—"
"The backups," Jet finished with a scowl. "That means they never intended on giving them the throne. They just had no choice because Roscoe deemed her unfit, putting them in a tough position between three dangerous personalities."
"…" Jason sighed. "It's a strong possibility."
Luna jotted down in her notebook again. "And with the Lord of Shadow's escape and the knowledge he took with him…"
"How long do we have before Last Autumn moves on to taking Melissa by force?" Basil finished.
Melissa shuddered and covered her face. "I'm sorry. I'm causing even more trouble for you all."
Jason turned himself around and scooted closer to her. "Hey. You are not a burden. Don't you forget that." He placed his hand on her shoulder. "Foresters don't abandon their own, and we would fight tooth and nail for your sake. You will never be a burden to us."
"…" She covered her eyes inside her arms. "I know…"
Jet stared at their backs for a moment, a pit of rage stirring in his chest thinking of the sadness in the Buneary's heart. Not wanting to linger on the feeling, he glared at Luna. "She's not the only one suddenly on their watch."
Luna glared. "Right. The bounty hunter was looking for Pandora in relation to Logos. She's connected to all of this."
Zephora scratched at her nape thoughtfully. "Let's see, she's a descendant of the Arbiters. That much, we know. And we know she's a MacGyver. But why specifically do they need her? Is she the only one who can control Logos?"
"Doubtful," Luna answered. "If they were planning to give Logos to the true heir of Virdis, they wouldn't need her to be a medium between controlling it. I think it has something to do with this pyramid that's being represented in the slab. What if Logos is a mechanism of sorts?"
"But didn't the old man say it might be an entity?" Jet asked.
"True, but the bounty hunter specifically said she holds the blueprint to Logos. So, what if this pyramid isn't actually Logos, but a mechanism designed to work with it?"
"But if that's the case, what's it for?"
She sighed. "I'm still trying to figure that out. All we know is that Logos grants knowledge. If that's true, that would explain how the Savage Era ended so abruptly. Something that grants knowledge to any creature."
Wyatt scratched his head in confusion. "Yeah, I'm still confused about that. It grants knowledge? That sounds a little crazy if you ask me."
"He's got a point," Avel chirped in. "It could be a tall tale from the past, or an exaggeration."
"But our enemy seems to believe it's real," Lucient reminded.
"But how can they be so sure?" Victoria asked. "No one from Last Autumn could've possibly been around for two hundred years and claim it was real. Any old account you find on the Ten-Ways War speaks of the massive territory battle and the earthquake that swallowed everything up. I don't think anyone ever mentions a giant pyramid."
"So, they're either chasing a fable, or their leader knows more than he lets on," Felix proposed. "Going this far for something that might be just a legend sounds like the biggest gamble of them all."
"Oh, it's real alright." Everyone turned to Basil as he raised his hands in expressive gestures. "The power of knowledge itself. Such a creation lost to myth and legend, then soon lost to the blank period of the Great Kingdom's history. There is no denying the power it holds. The truth is lost with personal accounts and anecdotes passed between generations, but it's real. It's real, and it is scary."
Luna glared. "And you're sure of this because…?"
He snickered. "Where's your sense of romance? It sounds like our little world is rich with history beyond our wildest dreams. Who wouldn't get excited over that?"
"But to pursue a fantasy, even with historical accounts—"
"Why does anyone chase a dream if it's impossible? The nature of romance is to chase the impossible! I say there's a lot to uncover about Logos, and pursuing it should be our next priority."
Jet scowled. "Yeah, there's no way we're letting you near that thing."
Basil gasped mockingly. "You wound me, Jet. You say that like I would try something with it."
"The world doesn't need you being the smartest pain in the ass."
Basil snickered and reclined back into the wagon. "The power of knowledge doesn't necessarily mean granting intelligence…"
As the chatter carried on without them, Jason and Melissa continued looking out over the passing landscape. Jason periodically rubbed the Buneary's back while she quietly played with her locket. He could see she had a lot on her mind.
"…Do you think my father was trying to spare me from something I would've rejected?"
Jason closed his eyes and sighed. "I can't speak for certain. I'm not the best judge of character when it comes to your father."
"Hmm." She stashed the locket back under her uniform and buried her head back into her arms. "I wonder…if I would've turned out like them if I continued down that route. Someone like Darby, Evangelina, or this…Riko. Someone willing to do whatever it takes to achieve their goals, even if it meant sacrificing morality."
Jason glared. "Those three don't hold a candle to your kindness."
"But what does morality even mean? Example shows that war always wins out. War…brings progress by forcing the people to come up with solutions. Kindness placates the people. Would I just be holding everyone back with my kindness?" She narrowed her eyes. "Everyone keeps saying my dream is just a childish fantasy."
"…"
"You believe them, too, don't you?"
"…I don't believe the world will ever get better, no." He patted her shoulder. "But I do believe in you."
"What's the difference?"
"The difference is in the strength of your will and your dream. That kind of faith in your ideals is a dangerous tool. That unshakeable spirit to fight for your dreams without sacrificing your beliefs." Jason looked down at his hand, channeling sparks through his fur. "I struggle with holding onto my beliefs. Sometimes I wonder if I should just turn off my brain and kill. But—"
"That wouldn't be who you really are," Melissa finished.
"…Yeah." He sighed. "I'm not mentally fit to take on that responsibility. It shouldn't have to be my burden, just like how I don't feel right being a leader. That's more your talent, and you strive as a leader with your boundless kindness."
"…" Melissa glanced up at him. "And that's what gravitated you to serving as my knight."
"I believe in your will, so I believe in your dream to unite all of Virdis. I'll do the things you can't, and you'll do the things I can't. That's what it means to be a team, isn't it? No one person has to carry the burdens of the many."
"…" She smiled softly. She gently clasped her hand over his and squeezed it. "I'd be chasing an impossible dream—"
"And I don't care. I want to see your impossible dream come true."
"What does that mean for us?"
He glared. "Melissa, I…I need someone to guide me as the face of the Foresters. I figured the best qualified out of all of us is the one who understands what it takes to rule a kingdom." He squeezed her hand back. "I want you not only as a part of my council, but as my advisor. Someone to serve alongside me when making the tough calls."
"…" Her smile grew. "You trust me that much?"
"I would stake my life on your dream. I have nothing but unwavering trust in you."
Her cheeks glowed red. She giggled softly. "That so, huh?" She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, an action that caught him off guard. His fur stood on end, sending sparks through his body that made her lips tingle. She pulled away and rested her head against his shoulder. "The feeling is mutual, then."
"…" He looked away from her, hiding his completely reddened face. "O-Oh, uh…g-good to know." He glanced at Basil and flinched at the Salandit's cheeky grin. "What?" he hissed quietly.
He snickered. "I see you as well appreciate the glory of romance."
"Hush."
"You're not denying it."
"We're not a…" He rolled his eyes and looked away from the Salandit as his face continued to heat up. "Oh, shut up." He could hear Melissa giggling under her breath, but he chose to remain quiet.
Basil laughed aloud, slapping himself across the knee. However, as he tilted his head back amidst his laughter, he gazed up at the sky and paused. "Huh? Uh, Jason?"
He groaned. "One more comment out of you and—"
"N-No, the…clouds."
Jason, Melissa, and the rest of their party looked ahead at the sky and noticed the dark clouds rolling over their heads. However, this seemed off to them as none of them sensed any changes in the atmospheric pressure or even had an inkling of a heads-up regarding rain.
Wyatt winced. "Those are some awfully dark clouds."
"Those don't look like normal storm clouds," Avel said.
"They're not," Lucient mumbled. "That looks like…smoke."
Jason frowned. "Smoke?" He ran up to the front of the wagon. "Godfrey, speed it up!" The Mudsdale nodded and moved into a steady gallop up the path.
As they neared the end of the incline they were on, they saw more of the sky blanketed in the dark clouds. Though worried, the group collectively agreed to reserve judgment until they got a look at the source. For all they knew, and hoped, it was just a forest fire gone awry.
Their hopes, however, were dashed as soon as they reached the top of the incline.
Godfrey ceased galloping and froze over the peak. Everyone stood up inside the wagon, their jaws dropping as they looked out over the land before them. They were standing around the border of Verde and Echo Bell, making way to the lush greens of the vibrant and grassy kingdom they called home. What they saw, however, was a pit of disaster.
Lands scorched black with flame, paving the way toward the distant lands. Caught in the direct path of the burnt earth was the siting of a village, only they could see it was no longer standing. Buildings and homes were leveled to the ground with nothing but blackened earth left behind. Propped up over the graveyard of ash were flags bearing the symbol of a plumed helmet and two spears crossed behind it.
Focusing closer, they could see a few bodies laying in the ash with weapons impaled through their bodies. Most horrifically, some looked like they were still alive, weakly twitching on the ground. The pathway of carnage continued on ahead, leaving a scorched trail that eventually split off into different directions to spread more of its tyranny.
The Foresters could only look on in confusion and horror, unsure how to make sense of the scene before them. They were only gone for a couple of weeks. To come home to this…it felt surreal. It felt like a vivid nightmare that lingered on well past waking up. Nothing before them felt real.
All that could be offered in the silent moment of comprehension was a single phrase uttered by Melissa, her expression locked into stunned disbelief.
"What…happened here?"
23rd Red Ash Moon, 908 – The Outlands, Last Autumn Castle
Between staving off his injuries and transporting his near fatally injured subordinate, the trek out from the Echo Bell Kingdom was long and arduous for Itzal. He would have to stop in between travel to catch his breath before continuing ahead to his destination. He had to steal food and medicine just to keep himself awake, and to keep Benvenuto in as stable a condition as he could muster.
The ringmaster soon found himself entering the lawless land and pushed on through the tiresome hours before finally finding his way to the repurposed castle serving as Last Autumn's headquarters. Feeling the fatigue setting in, he ejected himself out of the shadows with Benvenuto in his arms, skidding to a stop in front of the large doors.
He waited a moment, panting and trembling as he caught his breath. Outside of the shadows, the unconscious Mr. Mime was far heavier than he realized, if not because of his own injuries. He couldn't tell anymore if he was lugging around a crispy magician or a well-done corpse. He'd be irritated if he found out he was dragging around a dead body for no reason.
Finding his voice, he looked up to the castle doors and shouted, "HEY! OPEN THE HELL UP!"
His obnoxious shout was received. The doors pulled back, blasting out cold air into the open. Itzal winced from the breeze as his strength waned. He didn't have to hold Benvenuto for much longer, thankfully. Greeting him at the door was none other than the castle master's butler himself.
"Itzal Abasolo," Cain Underhill greeted with a bow. "Master Terrowin has been expecting you."
He scoffed. "I'm sure he has." He handed Benvenuto to the Hypno before hobbling into the castle. "Fix him. And while you're at it, fix me a sandwich. I've been eating canned junk for the last few days."
Rather than be annoyed by the ringmaster's rudeness, Cain merely laughed. "Of course, Master Itzal." He turned away from the doors as they closed behind them. "It will be worthy of a last meal."
"What'd you say?" Itzal groaned, half-listening.
"I will prepare your sandwich, Master Itzal."
"…" The Gourgeist scoffed and continued on his way.
After taking an hour or two to recuperate, the newly healed and fed Itzal made his way through the decrepit castle until he found himself standing before Terrowin's private den. He rotated his shoulders, shaking out the aches, and pressed his hands to the doors.
"Just spin a yarn for the old bastard, and I'll be in the clear," he mumbled to himself before pushing his way through.
He was met with the soft glow of the fireplace reflecting off the walls of books surrounding the den. He closed the doors behind him and glared to the lone armchair sitting by the fireplace. There, he saw the withered Sceptile himself sitting by his lonesome, draped behind a heavy cloak.
His left side was exposed, however, revealing the large patch of cloth covering where his arm had been amputated. Terrowin seemed to have adjusted just fine, though the sight of it made Itzal's skin crawl. He could see something slithering underneath the patch periodically, though he couldn't say what.
The composed leader flipped through a book he was reading, holding it dexterously enough to flip the pages with a single finger cupped under the book. His eyes, hidden behind the shade of his hood, peered over to the ringmaster's direction. Itzal maintained his composure under the leader's stare until he resumed reading his book.
"Abasolo. You've returned," he finally acknowledged.
Itzal took a deep breath before bowing to him. "Master Terrowin. I've returned from my mission."
"Excellent. How did everything go?"
He doesn't know. Itzal smirked. "Everything went according to plan. No trouble to report. Fujimori stayed behind to attend to your new candidate's questions, though he'll have informed her of your official introduction."
"Good, good. Hopefully Fujimori will know how to conduct himself in secret." He turned a page in his book. "Evangelina Visconti is a most ruthless mind. Her dedication to her kingdom could make her a viable candidate to the throne of Virdis. She has more potential than Prince Darby and Lady Amano, at least."
"She is quite the mind, Master." Itzal chuckled. "I…suppose I should mention there was a brief scuffle with the Foresters. Things got out of hand quickly. I used only the force recommended to defend myself, I assure you."
"Mhmm. I see." Terrowin flipped to the next page. "How much damage was caused?"
"A few buildings, here or there. I am most ashamed of myself. I do hope you can forgive me."
"What's done is done. You did well to send my message to the eldest Visconti. That is all I could ask of you."
"Your kindness knows no bounds, Master Terrowin. And how have things been progressing on your end?"
Terrowin glared. "Have you heard the news? The New Chariot Empire has officially declared war on the Verde and Wick Kingdoms."
Itzal's eyes widened. "Both?"
"Some of New Chariot has invaded the Outlands. Cain had to execute a few soldiers snooping by the castle. They're spreading fast. A bloody war unlike anything seen in modern day will break out across the region in due time. If they take both kingdoms, they'll easily overpower Echo Bell. After that, they'll overpower the Senbo Kingdom with their territory control. Senbo may have the weapons advantage, but New Chariot is filled with some of the most patient generals imaginable. They know how to take down a kingdom that has them beat in weaponry."
Itzal glared. "That is…troubling."
"Emperor Nero is growing bolder. For such a young age, he's proven to be a mighty thorn in our operation. He's a prodigy of warfare, and letting that kind of natural talent run wild won't free this region from its corruption. We're already taking the necessary measures to meet and assuage his rampage."
Itzal huffed. "You've been trying to do things peacefully with New Chariot for years. What's going to be different this time?"
"That's my little secret to keep."
He rolled his eyes. "Uh huh. Well, I guess I should prepare for the warfront. I'm going to check in with Dr. Underhill and see how he's doing patching up my pal." He turned toward the door.
"Speaking of keeping secrets—" Terrowin snapped his book shut. "How stupid do you think I am?"
"…" Itzal let out a loud sigh and glared over his shoulder. "When?"
"I've been informed for over a week now. Did you really think I would send you out on negotiations not knowing who you were?"
Itzal growled. "That sounds like a you problem. Why send me if you didn't trust me?"
"Precisely the reason: if I could trust you or not."
"…Who the hell ratted me out? Was it one of my crew? Fujimori?"
"That is not important." Terrowin stood up, setting his book aside, and glared down at the Gourgeist. "You've failed my test. I sent you to negotiate with Princess Visconti. Instead, I get a report back about how you planned to, and might I add successfully, rigged the entire city with high grade alchemy to set it ablaze."
Itzal smirked. "If it makes you feel better, we actually went with a rainstorm."
"You admit it?"
He shrugged. "Why not? It's in my nature."
"You could've put innocent lives at risk."
"Don't go playing the saint on me, old man. You're not exactly free of blood. Your days as an infamous tyrant still run through your veins." Itzal growled and pointed accusingly at the cloaked Sceptile. "Don't act like you're the better man! Sure, I burned a few hundred people alive. So what? Shall we talk about all your crimes while we're at it? How many innocent lives have you gotten killed in your crossfire?"
"…" Terrowin glared. "What I've done in the past is unforgiveable and shouldn't be treated as anything less. I've accepted what I've done. You, however, have no such remorse for what you've committed. If I were to leave you to your own devices again, you'd surely do it again."
Itzal laughed bitterly. "Of course I would! This world is full of sadness restrained by fake grins and stale pleasantries. No one is happy with the state of the region! We're all moving along pretending life makes sense! I was the only one smart enough to see the truth! I don't hold onto beliefs because it's simply the way things are. I do what makes me happy! What gives me purpose!"
"And you find purpose in ceaseless slaughter?"
"I give people the peak of happiness before releasing them from this mortal coil. That's just how it is, old man. I am the only one who'll save this accursed region from itself! All you've been doing is playing the pacifist drug dealer!"
Terrowin growled. The patch plastered across his side began to twitch as something wiggled underneath violently. "You have no idea what you're—"
"Oh, SPARE ME WITH THAT SHIT!" Itzal snapped. "I don't know anything?! HA! I know more than you ever will! You're a living pile of mulch days or weeks away from kicking the bucket! You have no power to change Virdis. I have all the power in the world!" He raised his hands and expelled geysers of scarlet fire from them. "I control the most versatile and unstoppable power in the region! The Scarlet Flame has the power to destroy an entire city with a single spark! I can do anything with this power! What do you have, old man?!"
Terrowin didn't flinch as he watched the darkness crawl over Itzal's body. He watched the towering shadow rise higher and higher toward the ceiling, shaping into a demonic Gourgeist with six, blazing red eyes and fiery tattoos spreading along his body. A flaming cape burst out from the shoulders, extending out like batwings.
"I've gotten real sick and tired of your preaching! Maybe I'll do Last Autumn a favor and take over as the new leader!" His smirk grew wide. "You look like someone bound by his own self-imposed chains! Let me liberate you from your suffering, Terrowin~! Won't that just be fantastic?!"
"…" Terrowin maintained his unflappable stare, which irked the shadow avatar.
"I've just about had it with your arrogance!" He reared his fist back and swept it across the den. "I'LL SEND YOU TO HELL! SCARLET FIEND—"
"Spirit-Binding Forest."
BAM!
Itzal doubled over in pain as something heavy and large slammed into the core of his avatar. However, it did so much more than that. It struck with such force that it penetrated through the umbric hide, striking his real body with pinpoint precision. The attack blasted him out from the shadow avatar and crushed him up against the wall of books, smashing it open.
"Gaaah…w…what?" His eyes widened as a patch of ripped, white cloth fluttered through the air. "W…What?"
After the dizziness passed, he could clearly see what had rammed into him. He was pinned up against the wall by a giant tree trunk with hardened branches growing out and stabbing through his skin. Some branches wrapped around his arms and body like bindings, restricting his movements.
The source of this attack? It came directly from Terrowin himself.
His cloak and the patch across his side had been blown off. He wore a simple white linen shirt with black trousers, yet that was far from Itzal's most concerning notice. The left side of Terrowin's face had rough-looking patches wrapping over him. They looked like scabs in the shape of roots, one even passing over his eye.
Except they weren't scabs. They…They were tree roots. Growing out from under his skin.
From his left side, an entire forest of wood blossomed out from where his arm once was, growing to unfathomable proportions and forming into the shape of a twisted tree trunk that was currently pinning the traitorous ringmaster down. Pulses of green light hummed through the surface of the wood.
Terrowin lifted his gaze to the trapped Gourgeist. They blazed in a blinding silver and green light. "Liberate, you said?"
Itzal growled as he tried to pull himself free. "W-What the hell?! I can't phase out of here! W-What the…how can you do that?! How can some old bastard possibly—" His eyes widened, finally getting a good look at Terrowin's face. "W-Wait, why…do you look so much younger?"
He only just noticed that the Sceptile's face, one saggy and riddled with wrinkles and decaying flesh, had rejuvenated to something much sightlier and more youthful. He looked to be in his fifties, in fact!
"W-What the hell?! You looked like a bag of rotting mulch when I was last here!"
Terrowin glared. "I told you. You have no idea what you're dealing with."
The branches suddenly sprung to life and stabbed into Itzal's arms. He screamed out in agony as the branches slithered across the underside of his skin and worked their way up to his face, resembling bulging veins around his eyes. "Y-You…YOU!" He screamed and released a torrent of scarlet fire from his body. "BURN AWAY, YOU OLD SHIT!"
Terrowin didn't do anything and merely watched the Gourgeist struggle. After a minute of endless flames, Itzal's fatigue gave in again. He fell forward, panting from exhaustion, before gasping as he barely burned through half the width of a single branch. They smoked from the flames, but were otherwise unharmed.
"W-W-W-W-WHAAAAAT?! How—"
"Preservation of Nature," Terrowin spoke, tightening his bindings around the Gourgeist. "I possess an Inherited Will that magnifies the power of my Frenzy Plant. I can freely generate and manipulate plant matter from my mutated body. Though the effects of my extended life have been kicking in, it does come with some interesting perks."
"How can you resist the power of the Scarlet Flame?!"
"My aura increases the hardiness of my plants. I can create life stronger than nature itself." Terrowin continued to tighten his bindings around Itzal, digging the branches deeper through his skin. "This is the gap between us, Itzal."
Itzal squirmed and screamed as the branches continued infesting throughout his body, digging and stabbing into his nerves. "Stop it! STOP IT!"
"The accursed flame you took on as your own is nothing more than a pale imitation of an Inherited Will. Passing on between host to host like an infection. It's given no time to mature, to prosper. It's just pure malice and vengeance for a dead kingdom kept alive by force. The creator of that flame didn't fully understand what he had done when he learned the secrets to Inherited Will. And you wield it like a child."
"AAAAAAAHHHHHH!"
Terrowin scowled. "Still, I have plans for that power, and I'll take it from you by force…even if it means killing you."
Itzal struggled and flailed in the bindings as they continued slicing into his nerves. Tears flowed down his eyes as all he could do was beg—
His eyes widened in realization.
"W-Wait! WAIT! I know something! D-DON'T KILL ME! I know something you want!"
Terrowin scoffed. "Begging for your life won't change my decision. Accept your death like a man, you sniveling coward—"
"I KNOW SOMETHING…ABOUT SKILL HUNTER HARLOW!"
The leader narrowed his eyes. "Huh?"
"HER IDENTITY! SHE…SHE'S MELISSA PENWORTH!"
Terrowin's eyes widened. "What?"
"What?!"
Terrowin whipped his head toward the doors as someone busted through. Stepping into the light of the fireplace was…Roscoe Penworth.
The Lopunny, who clutched at his bandaged shoulder, looked up at the trapped Gourgeist in shock. "What did you say about my daughter?!"
"WHO THE HELL?!" Itzal screamed.
"…" Terrowin scoffed and pried his thorns out from Itzal's body, which caused even more splitting pain for the weakened ringmaster. He swung him to the ground and severed half the roots, leaving the rest to coil and completely restrain Itzal. "What…did you say?"
Itzal took a moment to catch his breath. Sap-like blood dripped from his eyes as he panted. "Gaaah…" He clenched his teeth and glared at the Sceptile. "Sh-She's…Princess Penworth. I heard her allies mention her by name, and I've been stalking inside her shadow to get the full story. She's the princess."
Roscoe grabbed the Gourgeist by the scalp. "Impossible! My daughter is back in Verde Kingdom. She was rescued weeks ago."
"Your daughter? Wait, you're the…!" Itzal growled and shook his head. "Look, I don't get it either, but I know for a fact she's the real deal! I tried to kidnap her to leverage against this pile of mulch over there, but she escaped me!"
"That's just—"
"Roscoe, enough," Terrowin cut in. He twisted the remaining wood growing out of his arm into the rough shape of an arm. He walked over and placed a hand on the wounded Lopunny's shoulder. "You should be resting."
Roscoe scowled. "I wouldn't need to be resting if that bastard hound of yours didn't decide to put on a convincing assassination ruse."
"Roscoe—"
"If I had known he was coming to pick me up, I wouldn't have allowed Matthias to send all those knights with me! He slaughtered almost all of them! He shot me in front of Sir Waylon just to make it look like I was killed!"
"…" Terrowin sighed. "You know as well as I do I can only do so much to keep The Ghost in check. You know what his mind is like."
"…" Roscoe turned away and growled. "When word of my death gets out, law states my son will be made king. I left a ten-year-old in charge of a kingdom, and now I'm hearing news about New Chariot invading and my daughter being Harlow?!"
Terrowin glared. "I promise, we're going to put an end to all of this in due time. You just need to exercise a little patience with me."
"…" The Lopunny finally let out an exhausted sigh. "Fine. Fine, whatever. I just want this all to be over with."
After comfortingly patting Roscoe's shoulder, the Sceptile set his eyes back on the scowling ringmaster. "So, you came to me with this knowledge hoping it would be enough to spare your life."
Itzal clenched his teeth. "Sort of?"
"Hmph." Terrowin crossed his arms and thought for a moment. "How troubling. How very troubling indeed. Though, this may prove favorable. Melissa was always intended to be the perfect heir. I was hoping to give her a second chance once she got older."
"…" Roscoe looked away, gripping his arm tightly.
"With all the fuss she's been making recently, she might still be worthy of taking the throne. Plus, with her and a descendant of MacGyver joined in the same group, we can take down two ships with one cannon. It's just a matter of getting in contact with her."
Itzal smirked uneasily. "So, does that mean you'll spare my life?"
"…Oh, I never said that."
His eyes widened. "Wha—"
"However, I've come to realize the Scarlet Flame has deemed you a worthy host, so extracting it won't be quite so simple. Killing you isn't an option."
"Then…what are you going to do to me?"
Terrowin snapped his fingers, and The Ghost entered the den. He bowed to the Sceptile. "How may I be of service, Ogden?"
"Grab the traitor. We're taking him to the basement."
"Understood." The Ghost grabbed Itzal by the wooden bindings and hauled him over his shoulder.
"H-Hey, wait a minute! What's going on?!" Itzal shouted as the psychotic Lucario carried him out of the room.
Terrowin turned to Roscoe. "Since you're insistent on staying out of bed, I've got some assignments for you."
Roscoe glared. "Yes, sir."
"Contact Count Victor and see he arrives at the earliest he can. After that, I'll need you to send a message out to one of my contacts from the Subterra Kingdom."
Roscoe froze. A chill ran up his spine as flashes of stone, lava, and hot metal passed through his mind. "Th-The…Subterra Kingdom? Y-You've been…in contact with King Obsidian?"
"In a manner of speaking. The hired help from the Outlands won't cut it anymore. We're going to need more reliable means of muscle. We're going to form a proper alliance with Subterra."
Roscoe flinched. "I, uh…"
Terrowin frowned. "I know this must be a lot for you. I'm not asking you to interact or even go down into the underground. I just need you to pen a letter when the time comes."
"I…I thought the underground was restricted, though. Wasn't there a massive lockdown on the surface tunnels after your Wraith scheme got found out?"
"You let me worry about negotiations. We need their skills in the event we must go to war against New Chariot. I can't ask Orochi to help since Great Gate has an alliance with New Chariot. Subterra, however, shouldn't be too hard to convince."
"…" Roscoe sighed and bowed to him. "It shall be done."
"Good." Terrowin stepped out from the den and made his way down the hall. "Now, one last loose end to cover up…"
Pulling on a wall torch, Terrowin opened up a secret passage hidden in the walls. He took the torch and descended the spiral staircase with The Ghost following behind, still holding an exhausted Itzal. Their footsteps echoed down the seemingly endless staircase. Itzal couldn't tell how far down they were going.
Annoyed, he yelled, "What are you going to do? Torture me? Leave me in a cell to rot? Or are you going to play pacifist like usual and appeal to my better nature?"
Terrowin glared. "I'm going to give you a history lesson."
"…Eh?"
"The Scarlet Flame was created by a former priest of the Elysivine Kingdom. He saw the truth behind how the old kingdom kept its peace and sought to create a power capable of vanquishing the presumed evil. However, his actions would have a ripple effect many years later, inspiring the formation of the Laurus Vanguard and bestowing upon them Inherited Wills. These wills pass on to the next of kin born after the previous holder dies. They hold the memories of their actions in the form of will. To inherit one's will is to inherit the power of dreams. A dream that can conquer reality through grit and romance."
Itzal groaned. "What are you on about?"
"Have you ever wondered where that power actually came from? The stories say it was a gift from Xerneas, but this is only interpretation passed on through the eyes of observers of the past. In truth, there's more to the history than meets the eye. The Scarlet Flame was a byproduct of tampering with those secrets, and it created a force fueled by unchecked desire. One does not inherit the flame's will, but assimilates it. Though powerful, no true wielder of it can ever fully grasp the limitless power of will. Even with the power to scorch the planet, it will always remain in its immature state."
Itzal scowled. "So, you think you're stronger than me because you have a fancy, matured Inherited Will?"
"…You have no idea how strong my will has become."
"I bet you're full of shit."
"…" Terrowin stopped and looked back at the captured ringmaster. "There are some mysteries to this world left unknown, and many years from now, there will be those uncovering the secrets of this world. You, who has no will for anything other than fleeting pleasures of self-aggrandized worth, cannot comprehend what I've done to see this dream of mine come true."
"And what does that mean?"
Terrowin took one step up the stairs and leaned in close to the ringmaster. "Allow me to part you with a little secret about myself. I'm sure you'll find it quite, how do you say, fantastic?"
He leaned close to the Gourgeist's ear and whispered something to him. A brief statement lasting no longer than a couple seconds.
Itzal's eyes widened just as Terrowin pulled away. "W…What?"
Terrowin nodded and continued down the stairs with The Ghost. "That is how strong my will has become. Savor that bit of information for as long as you can."
"B-But…th-that's…impossible."
"Is it? Well, since you're so interested in knowing the truth, let me show you what impossibilities look like."
They soon reached the bottom of the stairs. Terrowin pushed a stone door open, then dipped his torch into a basin jutting out from the wall. It caught fire and spread out along the walls, lighting up rings of fire that illuminate the ancient-looking room. A cylindrical tomb with cracked stone floors and a high ceiling.
In the center of the room was a pedestal with a crank mounted on the top. Before the pedestal was a large, circular stone door that looked like it had been closed for decades.
"What the…?" Itzal gasped.
Terrowin tossed aside the torch and approached the pedestal. "I didn't take this castle as my new base by accident. It has some history to the Elysivine Kingdom, and it will serve to prove a point." He snapped his fingers.
The Ghost unceremoniously threw Itzal across the room where he landed in front of the ancient door. He rolled himself into a sitting position and gazed up in awe at its imposing size.
Terrowin grabbed both ends of the crank and began to twist it. Old, ancient gears whirred from within the structure, causing the ancient door to pull back and recede into the walls with tired groans. Itzal felt a growing sense of dread as he stared into the seemingly endless darkness on the other side of the chamber.
"My time is limited," Terrowin said. "I may only have a few more years left at the rate I'm going, and I won't have another chance at life. But everything I've done has led up to this moment in time. I've watched too many good people suffer at the hands of tyranny. I've endured experimentation and age to bring peace back to this broken region."
Itzal felt his skin crawl as a strange, skittering sound hummed from within the dark chamber. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw thousands of…something shifting around in the darkness. He could feel a low pressure wading across his mind the longer he stared.
"I just need to live long enough to see this through." Terrowin stepped away from the pedestal and gestured to the darkness. "And you're going to help me…"
Itzal's eyes widened as hundreds of eyes peered out from the darkness, each one glowing in an intense blue light all focused squarely on him.
"Logos."
-FIN-
Next Time- Bandits of the Forest pt5: Blood and Iron
