I'm back, at long last - finals proved grueling this semester, and I wound up with a nasty case of writer's block when I tried to finish off the last of this chapter that tied me up for weeks. Regardless, I finally managed to push past it all and finish this up, and I'm glad I did. I'm also, hopefully, going to try and put myself back on the schedule that I had when I began writing Destiny's Call, writing one chapter around every week or so. We'll see how that works out, at any rate.

Begin!

Book I, Part III: Mortal Conflict - Element of Treachery

Chapter VIII—Pawns Before Kings

[Nether Plane, Chateau du Suzerain, Front Gate]

Of the buildings within the Nether Plane, few in number as they were, none came anywhere close to the magnificence of the Overlord's personal sanctuary, Chateau du Suzerain. In terms of size, the building was as large as ancient castles of old, towering gray and tan spires stretching high up into the dim sky above and looming high over the sandy, desert-like plains below. Its outer features shared much with those castles, as well as more modern cathedrals, possessing large and elegant stained glass windows that lined the outer walls and places along the spires. However, the strangest sight was just outside of the front of the structure - a literal field of fire, aligned in neat rows and columns that made the white and blue flames seem more like an actual garden than anything else.

A sole figure stood outside of the front gates of the majestic building, casually waiting for the two Daiesthai in front of him to open the gates and allow him passage. His short, neatly-trimmed white hair and red eyes served to give him a rather imposing appearance, and the immaculately kept navy blue business suit he wore was a sharp contrast to the white and black-lined robes of the demons in front of him.

"You may enter," one of the Daiesthai growled, stepping away from the swinging gates as they parted to allow access into the inner courtyard. The white-haired man simply nodded, the motion his only acknowledgment as he walked further into the Overlord's palace. The gate he stepped through was just that - merely an entrance and outer wall, meant to keep others out and away from the main complex of the palace itself. In front of the man now stretched an expansive courtyard nearly a hundred and fifty yards in length, decorated with trees and shrubs and lined with beautifully-crafted stone tiles. A single large fountain, shaped like a chalice, poured water out into a small pool near the middle of the courtyard, and two sets of stairs that led up to the second floor of the structure rested towards the back of the area.

"The Overlord certainly manages to keep his holdings in a wondrous state, it seems," the man said to himself as he approached the center of the courtyard, uncaring to several demons who were now taking notice of his arrival. Some reacted with curiosity, others in outright fear - a rarity within a plane that prided strength, intelligence, and combat ability above all. He ignored them, however, focusing on the sole task he had ahead of him as he proceeded to the large, stone staircases near the edge of the area. The demons below continued to watch him as he ascended the stairs, wondering what such a person might be doing here as he disappeared from sight, entering into another part of the palace as quickly as he had come.

[Nether Plane, Chateau du Suzerain, Overlord's Throne Room]

The interior of the palace was just as exquisite as the exterior, the white-haired man thought as he stepped quietly over the stone floors of the building, approaching the doors leading into the Overlord's throne room. Suits of armor from many periods in Nether Plane history lined the walls, along with many other items of note - portraits of exceptionally powerful and skilled Daiesthai, both past and present and murals of famous events and places within the realm being just a few of many. Even the occasional chandelier hung from the arched ceiling, adding a touch more class to the archaically-designed palace.

The doors in front of him opened as he approached, allowing him entrance into the room even as two others exited. Both figures were dressed in the same white and black-lined outfits that the man had seen the other Daiesthai wearing, but with slight differences - one, a male Daiesthai with spiky blue hair, had the upper part of his 'coat' left open, exposing his bare chest, while the other, a female Daiesthai with long black hair, wore her coat entirely open with a long, purple dress underneath. Each of the two seemed to have much greater auras of power about them as well, almost commanding attention by their presence alone. Neither one paid him so much as a second glance as they passed, clearing the way for the man to enter the chamber and speak with the one within.

Inside was no less ornately designed than the rest of the castle, but seemed much more utilitarian and subtle in its design. The elaborate murals and sculptures seen throughout the castle were almost nonexistent, with one of the largest decorations within being a grand banquet table, filled with a dozen chairs and stationed directly in the center in the room. The most fascinating decoration, however, lay at the very back of the room. Ahead of the man, sitting on a throne raised above floor level and overseeing the room, sat a man with short, brown hair, one single lock dipping down and resting between eyes that watched his guest's entry. Quietly, he stood from the throne, his bored expression replaced with fascination as he descended from his place, his white coat shifting as he walked.

"Welcome to the Nether Plane, Lord Wilhelm," Aizen Sosuke, the Overlord of the Nether Plane, spoke, spreading his arms wide in greeting. "I must say, this is quite a rare occurrence - this marks the second time an Author has seen fit to grace us with their presence."

Author - the word meant little to most; only those such as Freya and Aizen, as well as other high-ranking officials within the planes understood just who and what an Author was. In essence, they were the creators of dimensions, beings capable of the creation of worlds and galaxies, even planes of existence for their own ideas and goals. The man now standing in front of Aizen, Wilhelm, was one such being - and as such, demanded respect by his presence alone.

"It appears that you've continued to maintain order here, Aizen. No small feat, given the nature of this place." Wilhelm's voice was quiet, his eyes seeming to examine every facet of the room in an instant as Aizen stepped down from the throne.

"My Espada have seen to much of my success in that area," Aizen commented, gesturing for Wilhelm to take a seat at the dining table. Wilhelm obliged the Overlord, taking his place towards the middle of one side while Aizen took a seat directly opposite. "However, I'm certain you came for a reason other than to praise my leadership. What brings you to the Nether Plane, Lord Wilhelm?"

"I have a request to make of you."

Aizen seemed to straighten just slightly, his curiosity piqued by what an Author could possibly want. "A request, you say?"

"Indeed. It is but a small one, you understand. I wish to the services of one of your chosen for a short time, if possible."

For a brief moment, Aizen was taken aback - what would an Author need a Planeswalker for, let alone one from the Nether Plane? The Planeswalkers under Aizen weren't exactly known for their moral compass.

"I see...certainly you have a reason for your, if I may be so bold, unusual request?"

Wilhelm nodded lightly. "I have an experiment to carry out within this realm, and it requires that materials first be gathered while other pieces are moved around the board," he explained, still being vague as to his true purpose.

"So, you wish for one of mine to play the role of ferryman? That's rather unbecoming, considering their station."

"In a manner of speaking," Wilhelm responded, lacing his fingers together. Aizen was silent for several seconds as he considered the offer - the man was being intentionally cryptic as to his true motive, but he was willing to humor the Author's request, if only to satisfy his own curiosity.

"I assume you already had one in mind?"

"I believe the man's name is Dmitri Yuriev," Wilhelm confirmed, earning a slight nod and smile from Aizen.

"One of my most recent additions, yes," Aizen affirmed. "Very well, then. I shall inform him immediately of this agreement. Where shall I send him to contact you?"

"Any location within the mortal plane will suffice. I will take care of the rest from there."

"Very well, then. I'll inform him of his directive upon your departure, Lord Wilhelm."

"Thank you, Aizen. Your service will aid me greatly in the near future."

"I'm of course more than happy to assist you, Lord Wilhelm," Aizen remarked, his smile bordering almost upon being too hospitable for Wilhelm's liking. The Author stood from the table then, beginning to depart the room with little more than a nod to accompany his leaving. Aizen watched him go silently, his thoughts turning to what kind of 'experiment' Wilhelm could possibly want Dmitri Yuriev's assistance with even as he summoned one of his servants into the room.

He would have time enough to watch the mortal plane and learn of Wilhelm's plans, he reasoned - perhaps even find some way to use them to further his own. For now, however, he would be content with observing, waiting until the right moment to move the rest of the table in his favor.

[July 1, 2152 | Esthar, Pandora Café | 11:48 PM]

Most establishments in Esthar had closed up for the night by the time Tetsuya Kurabasa arrived at the Pandora Café. However, the quaint restaurant was known to be one of the few that stayed open late, possibly to cater to those who worked night shifts or late hours in the industrial and business sectors of the city.

The young SeeD pushed open the oaken doors to the café, taking a look around as he hung his white coat up on a rack near the entrance - the doorman had gone home for the night, as had most non-essential employees, leaving the café's interior almost barren except for a select few patrons. His eyes scanned the room until he noticed the person he was looking for, the woman he'd spoken with before the graduation ceremony

'Looks like she had to work late,' Tetsuya thought to himself as he began to walk towards the table, noticing that she was still dressed in more formal business clothes - a white blouse and dark blue skirt - as opposed to casual attire.

"Long day at work, Hikari-chan?" Tetsuya greeted, smiling warmly at the woman as he approached.

"Too long," she replied, her voice quiet and holding a hint of fatigue to it. She turned in her seat, kissing Tetsuya as he walked over to the table before letting him sit down at the other chair.

For those that knew her, Hikari Tanaka was somewhat of a remarkable individual, both in outward appearance and in other facets of her life. Her appearance was notable because of a set of distinguishing characteristics - she possessed short hair that was a mild shade of light-blue and eyes that appeared red, both features of a form of albinism that she'd been born with. Most people found the outward appearance strange, sometimes unsettling when combined with her often-serious personality. That same personality, however, along with her high degree of intelligence, helped her in her daily job as the head of security at Vector Industries, the biggest military technology company in Esthar.

"Trouble at the company, or just a long shift?" Tetsuya asked.

"The president was away on business today, and we were a little shorthanded on security detail," Hikari replied. "I had my hands full just making my rounds, let alone trying to organize everyone else into new routes."

"Sounds stressful...how long have you been at it today?"

"Eleven hours," she said, the fatigue creeping into her voice a bit more as she spoke. "I didn't leave until I had checked the main labs over personally."

Tetsuya blinked in surprise - he'd seen the Vector Industries complex, and knew that the entirety of the company's holdings in Esthar spanned more than a few blocks in the industrial sector. "What about your second?"

"He was one of the ones out."

"Fine time to take a day off, huh?" Tetsuya remarked, trying to make his significant other feel better about the situation. "Well, at least you can relax now - day's over with."

"I suppose it is..." she said quietly, leaning forward and burying her face in her hands for a moment.

"Come on," Tetsuya said as he watched, standing up and placing one hand on Hikari's shoulder while pushing his chair back to the table with the other. "You need to get some sleep. I'll drive you home, if you want."

"That sounds nice," she admitted, also standing up and replacing her chair at the table as she grabbed a small, black messenger bag with the Vector Industries logo on it from the ground. "By the way...do you think that you could do me a small favor tomorrow?"

"What do you need?" he asked, reclaiming his coat from the rack at the door and pushing the door open for Hikari to exit.

"I was supposed to take something to your father today, but I wasn't able to leave because of our employees being out sick," she said, adjusting the bag on her shoulder. "I was hoping that you could take it to him for me in the morning - I'd rather he have it tomorrow morning since I couldn't deliver it today."

Tetsuya opened his car's passenger door for Hikari as he thought about it for a moment, placing a hand on top of the door and leaning down to face her again after she'd gotten inside.

"Tell you what - I'll do better than that. I've got a key, so I could go in and put it in his office for you before I drop you off, if you want. I'll leave a note for him on his desk about it, too, so he sees it tomorrow."

Hikari smiled after he finished speaking, nodding gently. "That works. I knew I could count on you, Tetsu-kun."

"Hey, if you can't count on me, who can you count on?" he said with a grin, leaning down to kiss her once more before walking around to the driver's side and getting in as well. Too tired to even bother making a joke at her lover's expense, Hikari simply stayed quiet as Tetsuya turned the key, putting the car in drive and pulling out onto the highways of the capital city.

[July 2, 2152 | Galbadia City, Rubedo's | 12:37 PM]

The sun was high in the sky as Vinzer Deling Jr. sat down inside the restaurant for his usual lunch break. Rubedo's was surprisingly empty for the middle of the day, owing to Galbadia City's unusual lack of daytime activity. Only a few scattered patrons were dining in the noon hour, split fairly evenly between the inside booths and the outside tables. Even the activity on the road was scarce, mostly the occasional bus and small car taking people down the city streets. Still, despite the nighttime focus that the city held, the industrial sectors still worked as hard or harder than many of the other cities in the province, giving the city as a whole a position of power in the Galbadian province that few other cities could lay claim to.

Nevertheless, despite the peaceful atmosphere, the Deling family head couldn't suppress a scowl that cut across his face as he thought about the recent events within the city. Duran's revolt, a sickening and startling uprising by his own men had cost him valuable resources and manpower to clean up, something that would take some time to recover from, and furthermore...

He loathed to even think the thought. SeeD forces coming in to bail him and his men out of the mess they'd been thrown into? The very mention made him sick to his stomach. The Garden under his control, Galbadia Garden, had been powerless to even make a move lest they risk the threat of more defectors being amongst the forces. Having to call on an outside Garden to get their help made Deling's forces look weak and inadequate, and if there was one thing in the world that Deling hated, it was being made to look a weak fool. Press conferences he'd held mere hours after the solution to the incident had done something to restore his image in the eyes of the people, but he knew that immediate action would be required in order to cement the loyalty of his men and keep this from becoming a recurring event.

The server finally appeared at Deling's table, greeting the Galbadian president graciously as he often did - after all, the restaurant was owned by the Deling family, as were many other establishments across town. Deling ate here quite often not solely for that fact, however, but also because he found the food was quite delectable. As the waiter stood and waited for the president's order, Deling made a show of looking over the menu, eyes never resting long on any one item, before finally deciding on some kind of chicken with garden tomatoes, among other smaller items. The waiter merely wrote down the order and departed with another curt nod, once more leaving Deling alone with the scant few patrons inside. For all that he ate, Deling's associates noticed, he never seemed to gain much weight at all, if any, seeming to possess an almost inhuman metabolism that kept him as fit as those who watched their weight and diet with a fanatical eye.

Several long minutes passed as Deling waited for his food, a newspaper out in front of him as he took note of recent events. His eyes drifted down one page, and the scowl returned - the media had, predictably, leapt all over the recent events and blown them completely out of context. Several had blamed the entire Galbadian military - army, navy, and air force - itself for inciting the entire thing, even though it was started by the leadership of a few army personnel. The faith in the military had dropped noticeably in just the past few days, as well as faith in his own regime, which was something he had no stomach to tolerate. Duran's court-martial had yet to actually reach the courts, though it was scheduled for just a few days from the present time, meaning that the damage needed to be rectified now before any more right-wing activists decided to jump on the figurative bandwagon. Who knew what kind of remarks might be uttered at trial, even more 'evidence' for political enemies to use against him in the coming weeks and months.

"Your meal, mister President," the server said, carefully setting down the largest of several plates that he was carefully balancing upon the table in front of Deling. The smell of succulent and perfectly grilled chicken breast wafted up, causing Deling to smile as the waiter finished placing the plates down on the table. Prepared to perfection, as always - he'd made a fine choice when he chose to acquire the restaurant shortly after his father's death.

"Thank you," he remarked, nodding politely to the waiter as he began to depart, leaving Deling to eat his meal in silence.

No sooner than he had picked up his fork and taken the second bite of his meal, however, did another figure approach his table. Without a word, the figure sat down at the table, picked up a piece of buttered, toasted bread that was sitting on a plate, and took a bite. Deling's fork paused halfway to his mouth, the marinated chicken dripping sauce back onto his plate as he stared at the 'thief.'

"...Might I ask what you think you're doing?" he inquired, the tone somewhere between disbelieving and threatening. The figure across from him swallowed the bite of his toast that they'd taken before looking at the president seated across from them, the smiling face of the Pillar of Destiny meeting the frowning face of Galbadia's leader.

"Eating," she replied nonchalantly, taking another bite of the toast and leaving Deling to stare at her audacity in mute shock. Finally, he managed to throw off the shackles of confusion and turn in his seat, looking around before angrily calling out for a waiter.

"By the way, no one can hear you," Destine remarked casually, her speech slightly impaired by the toast that she was still eating. Deling turned back again to stare at her as if she was crazy, before once again turning away and calling more loudly for a waiter. Destine sighed, putting the piece of half-eaten toast down and reaching for a fork and a small salad on the side of the table.

"Didn't you hear me?"

Giving no indication that he had heard the statement or, more accurately, that he cared, Deling pulled a cellular phone from his pocket and began calling the police. He'd have the Galbadia City police department here in less than five minutes, surely they'd be able to -

"...What part of 'you are currently unable to be heard, seen, or anything else' don't you understand?" she asked, now chewing on a mouthful of the salad that she'd taken from Deling's meal. "Good salad, by the way - first-class stuff, there."

Deling was more than a little annoyed by the woman's flippant behavior now. "Who do you think you are? You come in here, take my food without warning, and-"

"Make you an offer you can't refuse?" Destine finished, putting her salad fork down and staring directly at Deling, her demeanor suddenly all-business instead of the aloof attitude she had moments ago. Deling stopped short, caught off-guard by the change.

"...An offer, you say?" He had his suspicions of the woman's true nature, of course, but keeping her talking was the logical option to learn more, and Deling wasn't one to argue with logic. Destine offered little more than a nod at first, however.

"So. Who's working in your city?" she asked, abruptly seeming to disregard Deling's question and change topics in her conversation with the Galbadian president. Deling's face turned to one of momentary confusion...then solidified again into a stony mask. He knew what she was getting at with her question - she was referring to his underground holdings in and around the city.

"Those who should be working, of course," he responded, not giving anything away outwardly but letting her know that he was onto her meaning.

Destine's smile grew a little bit bigger as Deling spoke, the Pillar picking up the salad fork again and taking another bite - ignoring the slight frown that crossed Deling's face - before speaking again. "That's not what I hear around these parts."

Deling's frown grew more noticeable after Destine finished speaking. "Are you saying that someone is...undercutting me?"

"I'll not be so callous as to name names, of course, but...I might've run across a few suspicious-looking documents that contain information pertinent to the matter."

Destine's left hand flickered for a second before a small compact disc popped into existence, seeming to just appear when there was nothing there an instant prior. Quietly, she placed the disc on the table in front of Deling, who arched an eyebrow.

"Surely you're not going to just give me this information as a gesture of goodwill. You must want something in return," he said, skeptical as to the woman's motives. Destine looked momentarily appalled that he'd even suggest such a thing, putting the fork down again and clasping her hands together.

"My dear president, certainly not. I'm merely...interested in seeing the continuation of good business in this fine city. Whether you take it or not - and, what you do with it if you do - is no one's business but your own."

Deling glanced down at the reflective disc on the table in front of him, picking it up and looking it over for several long seconds before looking up again at his mysterious benefactor. When he did, however...Destine was gone, no indication that she'd ever left nor that she'd ever been there. Instead, the waiter that had brought him his meal was standing there, looking at him with something akin to concern.

"Is something wrong, sir?" he asked, noticing that Deling had barely seemed to touch his food, something which wasn't normal for the president.

"No, everything is fine," he responded, looking up at the waiter for a brief moment before standing from his booth, pulling out several Gil notes and leaving them on the counter as he took the disc from its surface. "Merely a lot on my mind today, that's all."

"I understand, sir," the waiter said with a nod. "Regardless, thank you for visiting today," he added as Deling began to walk towards the door.

"The service was excellent, as always. Good day," Deling replied, pushing open the glass door and beginning to call for his driver as he stepped out onto the city streets once more.

Yes, the Overlord of the Nether Plane is, in fact, Aizen Sosuke - all blame / credit for that, as well as most of the ideas pertaining to the Nether Plane itself, can go to my co-author Iron Reaver. Those of you who've played Xenosaga may well recognize Wilhelm, who was played by Daniel Wesley Rydell, and Dmitri Yuriev, who was played by Iron Reaver.

I took a little more care in describing things in the Nether Plane, as that's a place that will have a larger part later on in the story. It's not as important now, but it will have its moment to shine in time. As always, please read and review.