THE NIGHTMARE - FACET XVI
Wind rustled through the foliage of the sunlit jungle. Trees, leaves, and vines saturated in the reds, oranges, and yellows of the setting sun. Yet beautifully accented by the growing shadows of the bamboo forest.
A scout kicked up leaves as he scrambled to their outlook. "Commander Lilith, we've confirmed activity deep within the ruins. It's the cult, ma'am." The news made a stir in the camp. They've been waiting for almost 4 hours to hear this news.
"Very good, sergeant," Lilith thanked the man. "Attention task force! We are heading towards the ruins! Clear the camp! Team 1, head to the overlook and repel down the cliff face! Team 2, on me! We are going through the jungle and storming up that pass! MOVE OUT!"
Maxwell looked out over the cliff they were camped in. The ruins were on the other side of the ravine, while they hid in the jungle. What was once perhaps a grand palace with carved pillars and elegant trusses, was now little more then a decorative door in the cliffside. A wall carved into the side of a mountain. The jungle had grown around it, suffocating the marble architecture with ivy and moss. And somehow it seem all the more magnificent for it.
It was fortress once, in fact, most elvhen ruins were. In Thedas, Tevinter had settled and conquered most of the elven settlements. What wasn't conquered was either ransacked, razed, or enslaved. Without the Eluvian network, many of the smaller elven outposts were vulnerable, little more than monasteries that the elves were forced to abandon.
War, invasion, and isolation had destroyed the elves. And those who were then still free had gathered in the Dales, hoping for some form of resurgence. Sadly, it never came to be...
However, that just made Maxwell wonder what happened to the elves here.
It was a defendable mountain fortress based on the cliff face in the gorge. The mountain paths were now narrow ledges, with limited maneuverability. You either had to scale the cliff face or brave the jungle and find the trail up to the fortress. But that didn't explain the sheer cliff now over the ruin. Had someone tried to drop a mountain on it?
"Enjoying the view, Mr. Trevellyan?" Maxwell looked over to see Lilith walking up behind him. She was Bellos' replacement for the time being, in charge of their little operation.
Her armor was more personalized, with more avian looking pauldrons and limb guards. Lilith held her helmet in her hands, a winged helm that extended from her cheeks. Yet her black hair travelling down her back and tabard, free flowing. Yet what really caught his attention was the weapon on her back. A full war glaive, with a broad scimitar blade, tassel, and ring counterweight. She gave an aura of roundedness that immediately told him she wasn't a noble, yet she a a woman of distinction with a singular focus.
A warrior woman, like many he's encountered.
"Commander," Maxwell nodded and looked back at the ruin. "Apprehensive would be the word. The ruins are definitely elven, and that all but confirms my suspicions about the eluvian."
"Is the mirror truly so dangerous?" Lilith asked also surveying the ruins.
"All magic is dangerous, commander," Maxwell almost spat out, hating how he almost sounded like Madame de Fer, when she was giving one of her empty speeches. "Especially when you're dealing with unknown forces. That mirror maybe old, but it is the focal point of their ritual. Plus, no one has ever fully understood the depth of elvish magic since their decline. Even back in my old country."
"Hm…" Lilith places a knuckle over her chin, accenting her pale skin and painted lip.
The warrior was apparently also a major history buff. When Bearking and Honeyqueen had described what they remembered of the ruins, but it was only with Lilith's encyclopedic knowledge that they were even discern it's location.
Much of the jungle was considered sacred land by the locals, thus no one ever really toured around the island. Add that with rumours of monsters hiding in the woods, then exploring West Oligo practically became taboo.
It honestly just made Maxwell miss Robin a little more, since he couldn't share in this discovery. She would have been thrilled!
With their troupe though, the mission should be a success! They had him, a genuine mage who understood this kind of magic, (if barely.) A master swordsman with a unique weapon to counteract their blood magic. An old experienced sailor with a zoan animal companion! Then they had the king's men, a logia user, and a Haki practitioner—which had really gone well with the military echelon…
Oh, they went along with it, but they certainly weren't happy about it. Maxwell thought it might have to do with their relationship to with the Navy, knowing that haki could be learned outside of the World Navy.
Even Maxwell wondered what he could do to learn Haki. From what little Bearking gave, it mostly came down to wanting to do something really really badly. Like a desire…
Speaking of desire though, both Maxwell and Lilith heard some shuffling and raised voices back at camp. It was Bearking, holding up a—
"…Wait, is that Bellos?" Maxwell recognized the voice. He was out of his usual chevalier helmet and armor, wearing the standard tabard and a closed helmet. Yet Maxwell could recognize that outrageous pompous accent anywhere!
"Dang it, I told him not to draw attention to himself," Lilith scowled and started walking towards them.
"Hold on, why is Bellos here!?" the mage followed after her.
O O O
With Chopper…
"Ugh…"
Pain.
That was the first thought that came to mind when Chopper woke up.
His body ached like everything had been tenderized with a meat hammer. He wasn't on Sanji's cutting board, was he? No, wait, Sanji wouldn't do that. They still had a full fridge back on the Sunny. So what the heck was poking into his side?
"Ugh…!" Chopper had to squint as the light pierced his eyes. He had to let hims body adjust to the stimulus, but he wasn't sure he'd get the chance, "UWAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"
Looking down on him were two monstrous birds. Not large, like an ostrich, but HUGE like a house! Their feathers frilled their heads like dandelions, framing their drooping eyes and bright red embroidered beaks.
"M-M-MONSTER BIRD…!" Choppers animal instincts were in overdrive, wanting to run as fast as possible! They stood over him like condors, and he could very well become the carcass. "I have to escape…! Ah—But I can't move my body…!"
Fortunately for Chopper, they didn't seem interested in eating him. They seemed more curious than anything, "GYAH!" which resulted in Chopper being knocked around like a soccer ball.
"WUUUAAAAAHHHHH, AAAAAAHHHHH! CUT IT OUT! I'M NOT A TOY!"
…A soccer ball that happened to be in a nest 40 odd miles up in the air. Chopper's eyes nearly popped out of his head as he saw the edge, "UWAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"
O O O
"Get your hands off me, you oldfangled ruffian!" Bellos snarled behind his hoplite helmet. He kicked his legs and wriggled around, but couldn't escape from the pirate's giant grasp.
"'Oldfangled?'" Bearking couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, "Quite the tongue you got there, private! Were you taught that word with a silver spoon in your mouth?"
"Enough!" Lilith's voice cracked like a whip, he footsteps crunching the foliage underneath.
"Put. Him. Down. Bearking! Remember that you and your sister are only here as a courtesy to Trevelyan. Prove yourself a liability, and you will be removed!"
Honeyqueen then laughed, playing with a bit of her logia power. "And you really think you are capable of doing that?" Honestly she found the whole situation amusing. People had stopped to gawk at them. Some either afraid or ready to fight at a moment's notice. Her brother hasn't had a chance to vent in a long while!
Bearking though just stared at Lilith. He a former pirate captain, with a pirate fleet and a weapon that could have destroy islands! And he lost it all when he went with that little weasel into the Grand Line! Bearking had a chance for revenge now and he wasn't about to let that slip away.
However, this little pipsqueak had been pissing him off since the boat! With all his wisecracks, and snide judgments, if it hadn't been for his accent, Bearking would have thought this was Sliep! Did that soldier woman really think he couldn't just storm his way into the jungle? He had his pride as well, damn it! So he wasn't about to let some faceless Bonaparte complex insult him like some ignorant savage!
Bearking could feel his haki travelling into his arms. "Let me go!" the pipsqueak continued to yap. Bearking really wanted to hurt someone!
However, that's when he saw the Magister standing behind the commander. He was calmly staring at the giant, staff in hand, and shaking his head. His eyes warning him to stop, and mouthing, "Let me handle this."
"…Fine," Bearking let go of the guard's tabard and Bellos was unceremoniously dropped to the ground. "Let it not be said that the Bearking doesn't have any mercy! But your guard ought to learn how to keep their mouth shut, lady. See ya in the ruin, commander." He picked up the tent poles and started walking away.
His sister walked up behind him, "Well, that was magnanimous of you."
"Yeah…" Bearking scowled.
"Want to talk about it?"
Bearking kept walking, "Not really…"
Bellos quickly got back on his feet, "Lousy uncouth barbarian—"
"Guardsman!" His murmurings were quickly silent when Lilith barked at him. "…I distinctly remember telling you to keep your head down." Bellos stood still as a statue, the shadows of his helmet hiding his expression.
"…Apologies, commander. I underestimated our… attaché."
"I don't know, you seemed pretty attached there, guardsman." The former lord commander went rigid at the second voice. He turned to see Maxwell, standing there with his arms crossed and a small smirk on his face. Almost mocking him!
"Hello, Bellos. Fancy seeing you here."
"You…!" Bellos spat with venom in his voice.
"I must say, I'm surprised." Maxwell tilted his head, seeing the bits of dirt cling to Belos' tabard, "I would have thought it beneath you, sneaking into a crown-sanctioned operation. But not minding your own business was what landed in trouble in the first place, wasn't it soldier?" the mage grinned.
Bellos visible straightened at the insinuation, "I was not—!"
"Mr. Trevelyan, though I know you have history with Sir Bellos, but I do ask you to try to be civil," Lilith told the mage. "He did come here at my invitation. And I made it clear to him that I am the one in charge!" the commander then glared between Maxwell and her predecessor, challenging them both. "I will not have let the Children of Nightmare get away from us because of some schoolyard squabble!"
"Schoolyard?" Maxwell raised an eyebrow, his face a mask of confusion. Oh, but the mage understood. And his heart smouldered at the trivialization!
Lilith wanted this operation to go smoothly, Maxwell understood that. So she had to have known inviting Bellos into this mission was going to cause problems, particularly with him! This was her chance to keep the position after all. So why do it!?
Maxwell wanted to imagine that Bellos must have had to beg and pleaded with her to let him join the raid. Probably cashing in a few favours to even get on the boat! But Max didn't know how they related to each other. They could have been anything!
…Still, he took a breath, and ultimately shrugged, "Well, Commader, if your sure... I'm sure he can become an asset… I'm not the one that has to be civil though." He muttered that last part
As long as he didn't have to deal with Bellos, Maxwell can deal with it. He's enough vitriol in his life to know how to deal with it. Besides, it wasn't like he had a problem following orders from a woman.
Just as Max was about to turn away though, Bellos' rage erupted beneath his helmet, "Civil!? Civil!?" Clearly, Bellos had heard him. "YOU KIND WOULDN'T KNOW CIVILITY IF IT STABBED THROUGH YOUR HEART AND THE WOUND WAS LEFT TO FESTER!" Bellos ripped off his helmet revealing the severe and scarred man underneath.
He pointed to his face, "THIS IS THE RESULT OF YOUR PIRATES SO CALLED CIVILITY!" The upper half of his whole left face was covered in scar tissue. Melted skin that was angrily pink, crawling over his eye, forehead, cheekbone, and sandy hairline. Pucker marks rolled over the burn, almost like someone had held his face into the fire. "I'VE HAD TO PUT UP WITH A LOT OVER THE YEARS! BUT I WILL BE DAMNED WHEN I LET SOME SCURVY SEA RAT STRUT AROUND THE ARCHIPELAGO LIKE HE OWNS THE PLACE!"
Then quick as a whip, Maxwell conjured a Spirit Blade and held it up to Bellos' throat. The man jumped back, startled, but the blade still held to his neck. It was coming from the Magister's prosthetic hand!
Maxwell though was bristling like a cat. He has had enough of this!
"Magister!" Lilith drew her own blade, suddenly realizing what Maxwell was doing.
The mage slept in a little closer, "Listen here to spoiled brat of a man!" That scar wasn't pretty, so Maxwell had his sympathy for Bellos living with a burn like that. But that did not give him the right to laud himself around like some second-coming of Andraste!
"I don't want to be here anymore than you do! In fact, I'd rather have taken the boat we were on, thrown everyone else overboard, and sailed it out into the Grand Line where I can find my friends! Away from all this bullshit!" Bellos had skills, he had a status, so he had no right to keep acting as if he were a victim! The former lord commander might have been handsome once, with a square jaw and luscious hair, but that scar had also marred his soul! Twisting him into worst kind of nobleman that Maxwell found disgusting!
"But unlike you, I'm not some suicidal idiot that cries to mommy every time something doesn't go my way!"
"I've seen all levels of the monarchy!" the mage snarled, grabbing Bellos' tabard. "The rich, the poor, the tragic individual that can't get anywhere in life! And I've seen the useless trash, like you, who thinks they can get away with anything because of a title!"
"SO TAKE YOUR PRIDE, TAKE YOUR FANCY SWORD, SHOVE IT UP YOUR ASS, AND KEEP YOUR TRAP SHUT! Or I'll take out my mace and knock out a few teeth for good measure!"
Maxwell then dismissed his sword and shoved Bellos back, "I don't want to deal with you anymore than necessary, Bellos! We are going to find that damned cult and put an end to them! So you can either get with the program or get the blight out! I am seeing this through!" Then mage began to march.
"Magister—! Trevelyan! Where do you think you're going!?" Lilith barked at Maxwell, getting over her stunned witness.
"Ahead!" the mage barked back! "I can only deal with so much stupidity before I really tear someone a new one!"
Then he paused and rolled his head back to Lilith, "Oh don't worry. I'll wait for the rest of your soldiers! But keep that one on a leash!" Maxwell pointed at Bellos. "I've dealt with enough mad dogs to recognize when they need to be put down!" Then he marched down the hill, into the jungle below.
…Bellos' bottom lip trembled, his teeth gnashing with rancor. He felt disgraced, humiliated! The Magister could have killed him anytime he wanted, yet held himself back.
He remembered checking up on the barracks after his dismissal. Bellos had found the guard house practically trashed. Sheets of ice clung to the ground, surly melting, but at odd angles. Fires had to be put out—blasting marks had been found all over the halls. And soldiers were being treated for burns. Odd ones, shaped like branches.
Bellos thought he could deal these pirates, but then he felt the edge held to his throat… Was the Magister truly that capable?
Neither of them stopped him... Bellos wasn't sure they could.
"Lilith," Bellos finally spoke to his former subordinate. "Were you there when Trevelyan attacked the guardhouse?"
Lilith paused as if considering her answer, "…Sadly, no. But I did see the aftermath. I'm amazed we had even this many people to spare."
Bellos clenched his fist, "…Dammit…!"
O O O
With Zoro…
Zoro opens his eyes, realizing that he had been asleep.
"…I'm alive…?" His throat felt raspy even as he said it. Zoro couldn't move, his entire body was wrapped in bandages and he was actually laying in a bed. It almost felt comfy, even with the wet cloth laid on his forehead.
"Where… am I?" The sun had just risen beyond the horizon. Streaks of orange sunlight crossed over from the window as he stared up at the stone bedroom ceiling. Was he back in Thriller Bark again?
"If you were to take a trip, where would you like to go?"
KUMA!
"RUHOOOOAAAAHHHH!" Zoro sat straight up, realizing what had happened! Kuma had arrived to Sabaodey and interfered with they're fight. He had been injured by Kizaru, saved by the old man, chased by one of those look alikes, then the real Kuma showed up and swatted him away!
Where was he!? How long had he been asleep!? What happened to the others!?
"KYYYAAAAAAAHHHHH!" However his sudden yell had also woken up the person beside him.
"Hm?" Zoro looked over to see a woman fallen out of her in a chair. She had long pink hair, done up in pigtails, and— "Wait, you're that ghost chick that was with Moria. Why are you you here?"
Perona scared witless from just waking up, chose to yell, "I could ask the same thing! And what's wrong with you, yelling like that all of a sudden!?"
The hollow-woman had been taking care of him ever since she found him in the forest. Arriving much like she had. You'd think that would earn her a little bit of appreciation!
Here she was in paradise, where it was dark, damp, with a dreary castle that overlooked the whole island, and yet she took the time to take care of him!
…Oh who was she kidding! She missed Thriller Bark, with all of her servants and her cute dolls. Sure it was dark and cloudy, but it rained too often for her interest! The forest was full of killer monkeys too, but they were disobedient and she did not appreciate having feces flung at her hollow form! And yeah, the lord of the castle was scary dreamboat, BUT HE WAS AN ABSOLUTE STICK IN THE MUD! No fun, what so ever!
Kuariganna Island may have been a great vacation spot, but it certainly wasn't home!
"…Hold on, where are my swords!?" "You really think I'd give you a weapon!?"
O O O
"RAGH!" Maxwell reached out to the mana around him and called down a Lightning Bolt onto an unsuspecting tree. The bamboo shoot exploded into splinters as the upper trunk toppled.
Maxwell was pissed. He knew he shouldn't be pissed, but Maker damn it, he was furious!
They couldn't afford distractions! Not now, when they were on the eve of a battle! His rational brain understood that! In fact that Bellos was ultimately irrelevant when it came to his goals! But Blight take him did that man rub him the wrong way!
It's like he was back in his early days at the Circle! The distrust, everyone looking at him like a criminal yet to be convicted. The dismissals, many of the enchanters hadn't wanted to deal with an unruly child him. And he couldn't go to the Templars for help, they might as well have been stone statues while they were stationed in the tower. Then there was utter disregard of his person, it was infuriating! Maxwell could admit he was a spoiled little shit before he found out he was a mage, but he refused to be irrelevant!
He—! "…Dammit, I miss my friends…!" He felt completely lost.
Maxwell slumped the the ground, sliding down a slender trunk. He missed their crew. Luffy, Franky, Robin, Brook—everyone! He needed to get back to the Sunny, to regain some semblance of normalcy again…
…No. It wasn't normalcy he was after. It was structure.
Once Lydia had taken him under her wing, he grew to excel within the Circle. He could figure out the system, understand the people involved, and played the game to his advantage. Even if it was out of spite, he became an Enchanter at 25, when most Enchanters were in their late forties… And for all of his resentment for it now, he had become quite proficient in the Lucrosian Fraturnity. The potions, enchantment deals, and mabari breeding. He wanted to prove that he could do his part for society!
Then the Mage Rebellion happened and everything fell into pieces.
When he later joined the mage's coalition, he found out just how good of a battle mage he could be. He could observe, he could fight, and he could follow through with orders. His nobility status may have gotten him into the Conclave, but he had the respect of his other mages and apprentices.
And then the Temple of Sacred Ashes blew up, and all his dedication had turned into rubble…
Then Luffy happened.
Maker, did the kid drive him nuts! But he was good kid, kind, and had a clear vision of what he wanted to be. Luffy had dragged him out of the depression he was wallowing in, and gave him another chance to live!
More and more people joined them on their journey. Each person more outrageous than the last! But they were good people. They were good friends… They were family…!
Now, he was working with people who were actively working against him, and his sense of order was in disarray. Real, bloody, useful!
"…You shouldn't be out here alone, falon."
"What the—!?" Startled, Maxwell immediately scrambled to his feet and held his staff ready, looking around. He wasn't alone in this forest, and that wasn't anyone from the camp!
"Up here, shemlen," Maxwell looked up and his eyes nearly popped out of his skull.
It was an elf. An actual elf, sitting on a small dirt cliff.
His skin was pale like faded gold. His eyes were like giant glass orbs, green the sunlight caught in the canopy. And his hair was long, a braid folding around and down with the snow-white hair.
"W-Who are you?" He definitely wasn't human at least. He had all the standard elven features. The sunken cheekbones, the slanting jaw, his nose almost having no distinction between bridge, brow, and his forehead. His limbs were long and spindly. His torso was much too thin and lithe. He wore elaborate leathers with a hood and cloak that could have covered his face. The armor was slim, form fitting, fitting of a rogue. However, this elf revealed himself, proudly displaying his vallaslin and pointed ears.
However, this elf wore the vallaslin differently from any other elf Maxwell has seen. His tattoos were like sectioned carvings on his face. Each black rhombus contain wave like patterns on his forehead, nose, and cheekbones. Most elves conformed to a forest motif when they received their vallaslin, a dedication to the elven gods and the one that the individual exalted the most.
But this elf bore no pattern Maxwell recognized as Elvhen, which made him all the more cautious.
The elf scoffed, slipping into his native tongue, "Lasa ghilan… Ir—" But then he paused, as if he had to think about it.
"…Strange. The words and meanings, I remember. Yet I have completely forgotten my name." He stared out into the distance, as if it might give him an answer.
…It didn't, but the elf didn't really seemed phased by it, shrugging it off. "Irrelevant. Regardless, you should not have ventured in here alone, era."
Maxwell's knuckles whitened on his staff, "What do you mean…?"
"Shadows haunt this place," the mage looked around as forms seemed to shift through the trees. "Shades of the past denied rest, and those foolish enough to be caught by them."
He could hear them, groaning. Curious masses with beady yellow eyes. Some appeared as animals while others were more amorphous with limbs, growing out of the ground. So this was where the rumours of monsters in the jungle came from…
"Who you are is irrelevant to me, mortal. Garas quenathra? Why are you here?"
Maxwell quickly realized he was surrounded. He had no doubt that it would end badly for him if they attacked. However, the shadows seemed to be held at bay by something. An invisible barrier that the shades brushed against, surrounding him and the elf.
"…You probably won't like it, but my company and I are heading to your old fortress on the ridge." Maxwell pointed at the ruins with his staff.
"The Varsa Vir'vhenasan?" The shades became even more agitated. "What business have you, shemlin, to invade or holding?" The elf pushed off of his perch and marched up to the mage. "Your kind was warned to leave the jungle alone. What curse was placed on this island should they come unbidden!"
The elf's eyes then began to glow, and drew a knife. "What right have you to be spared!?"
Maxwell held his prosthetic arm up, forgetting his couldn't lift his wrist, "Because your holding has already been invaded!"
His words made the elf pause, the blade stopping mere inches from Maxwell's neck. "Another mage plans unlock the eluvian and invite a demon into this world! Why the demon needs to do so, I am unsure, but the threat is real! They have already defiled your temple with iron and blood!"
The elf turned his head as if extending his senses towards the temple, "…You speak truth, mortal. I see the men and women in black robes within the fortress, and the strange contraption they have built around the mirror."
His luminous gaze then turned back to Maxwell, "But how do you know of the name, 'eluvian,' mage…? We made sure all knowledge and memory of Elvhen was forgotten on this plane."
"…Because I am also not of this world," Maxwell admitted. He could see the slight widening in the elf's eyes, "I am from Thedas. Where the Evenuris ruled over Arlathan and the halla bore warriors across the wide continent. From sea, to hill, to forest!"
He was trying to flatter the elf, if it even was one. Max knew the Dalish were a rather proud people, so he was hoping revering some of their ancient values would convince the Elvhen.
"…You withhold information," the elf spoke, and Maxwell swallowed. "…But you are what you say you are." There the elf withdrew his knife.
Maxwell gave a small sigh of relief. He was glad he wasn't about to fight the elf. The ancient Elvhen were dangerous… and Maxwell wasn't sure this one had lost their immortality or not.
The nameless one then looked at him sharply, "The defilers within Vir'vhenasan, they are your enemies?" Maxwell nodded, reminding him that he still had to regroup with the others.
"Then deal with them as you see fit. But beware—" The elves eyes began to glow, and his body started turning into ethereal gold, "knowing this knowledge has also garnered my attention. I will seek you out, whether you survive or not!" His form began to glow, building up into radiance! "…I would very much like to hear what has happened to my people."
Then that radiance exploded, banishing the shadows like they were never there. And dusk settled over the jungle.
"…Well, that was a close one!" Mineive chirped inside his head. Strange, it was usually Mordred with the quips.
Still Maxwell sagged with relief. That was beyond terrifying! Was that a spirit? Was it an elf? A spirit taken the form of an elf!? And what were those shades hiding beyond the barrier!? His mind raced with the possibilities.
"Oi! Max!" the mage perked up when he heard someone else call his name. Maxwell could see Saga marching down the hilly slope.
"Over here!" he called back, and the swordsman jogged over to him.
"There you are! What the hell were you thinking?" Saga finally decided to ask. "Dealing with idiots is one thing, but walking off!?"
"…I needed time to clear my head." Maxwell's eyes drifted over to a spot where a shade had stood. "Besides, I think I just cleared our way until we reach the temple."
Saga looked at where his eyes were starring. He didn't see anything… but Saga did feel his sword rattle in his sheath, "You know what, I'm not even going to ask." Maxwell smiled appreciatively.
The swordsman shook his head. "Anyway the team's heading out. We got to rejoin the others and head to the temple. Are you ready?"
"…Yeah, sure." Maxwell walked up the hill, following Saga, leaving the small glade behind.
…Yet had he looked closer, he would have seen the small mural beneath the dirt cliff. A scene of a man and woman standing ahead with a flag in hand. They were on a hill in the distance. Elves clad in armor stood attention, closer, with their swords held to their breast. They surrounded a coffin where an elf was laid to rest.
A tomb for the nameless elf in West Oligo.