"And thus, her quest finished, her justice served, the knight did naught but kneel and weep, where none may see her."
(excerpt from The Rose Knight of Tieros, ~200 After Calamity)
Chapter 10: King of Both Kingdoms
Death claimed Natsuki Subaru faster than he could ever have expected.
It wasn't exactly the kind of death he ever hoped to have, though he also tended to not think about that topic too often. He was young, healthy, full of life: he had no reason to ever think that he would wind up slashed in half by a psychopath with a fire sword, so technically it was improper to say it was in any way related to his expectations…since he had none.
Still, it was…not exactly what he thought it would be. He didn't even have time to cry out, or even to process what happened, as the world around him disappeared. Tiga and Melty and Palladio, all three vanished from sight and mind.
For a moment, Subaru was truly, completely, absolutely, entirely dead.
For just a moment, however. That deafening silence, that all-encompassing darkness, it all vanished in a flash of bright light that gave Subaru chills with the memory of that blade so fresh in his mind. The breeze, once so quiet, roared past his ears with an intensity that he could swear it never possessed before.
An instant later, Subaru regained his consciousness, and immediately surmised he must have been in hell.
Around him were the identical houses of Faradar, lined in their neat rows, wooden peas in a pod of dirt. The sun beat down on him from above with a vengeance, compensating for that momentary blackout that took him before. The wind quieted down.
As if being stuck in Faradar wasn't punishment enough, the moment Subaru's vision returned well enough for him to make out what he saw, he wished that blade had taken his eyes along with his soul just for good measure.
In front of Subaru, with his boot on Subaru's knee — this was when he realized he was sitting on the dirt, against one of the wooden buildings — was his murderer. Still insufferably tall, bearing that obnoxious grin on his face, though now tinged with something like disdain that barely measured up to what Subaru had seen in the shack, and clad in his casual getup, Palladio Manesque looked down on him physically and metaphorically, his crimson sword nowhere to be seen.
That grin, so smug, so full of itself, made Subaru's stomach turn, and cold dread crept up his spine. This had to be hell. Was he doomed to spend an eternity with this insufferable snob? He would sooner ask for some biblical punishment or something. The thought of a lifetime of torture sounded a thousand times more appealing than a single day with the child-murdering prince.
But, then…was this hell? Was Vollachia hell? Had Subaru died days ago and never noticed? Was he fated to spend the rest of his days trapped in this place, where lives had no value?
As Palladio's nasal voice struck his ears, his words unintelligible, Subaru remembered what, to him, had occurred just seconds ago.
"I am king of both kingdoms."
"I am king of both kingdoms."
"I am king of both kingdoms."
Those final words, spoken for Palladio's ears only, haunted him, mocked him. They were a curse, a final insult, and for just a moment, Palladio's glaring mask of hatred came back to his mind.
A bloodstained prince—
—the visage of death—
—burning fury in his hand—
—one strike—
Palladio's words became clear for just a second. "Have you ever heard of the Witch of Faradar? Of cou—"
That voice, like nails on a chalkboard, always so pretentious, made something in Subaru twist, and before he realized it, he was bringing a hand up to his mouth and fighting back the urge to puke all over Palladio's shiny boots, no matter how much the piece of scum deserved it.
On his part, Palladio clearly noticed something was wrong, and took a few steps back as if he just realized this young boy in front of him was radioactive or carrying some deadly illness. His grin finally left, replaced by a scowl that carried just a piece of that hatred from before.
That was when Subaru spotted it: before the heir, air bent itself out of shape, mutilated against its will into a…sort of bubble? It was the same distortion he had seen when Tiga talked back to Palladio, not that long ago, but back then it had lasted only a moment, disappearing as fast as it appeared.
Another memory came to mind.
"Leave me be, flea. Go pester that cupbearer instead."
It had been just last night, when Subaru spoke with Palladio by the front door of the Peixit manor. The prince had used some kind of magic to control the wind, back then, and it looked like a ripple in the very fabric of reality, a wave of wind. It had sheared off a lock of Subaru's hair.
That was his trick. Wind magic.
Palladio stared at him as if considering whether or not it would be safer to approach and poke him with a stick or to wait a good couple meters away. His eyes were narrowed, squinting, as if he was trying to get in Subaru's head…or make him explode with some still-unknown psychic attack.
With that wary look in his eyes, Palladio raised his hand and pointed his index and middle finger toward Subaru, almost in a finger-gun gesture. "I may be overly-charitable here," he began, "but I would like to give you a single chance to explain what exactly is afflicting you, along with whether or not it is going to afflict me soon too. I can assure you that it would not be a desirable outcome for either of us."
Subaru wracked his brain to come up with a suitable response, until he saw the group of children in the distance. It was the same group he had met just a few hours ago, when he had met—
—Tiga.
The mint-haired boy stood there with his friends, very much alright, even looking quite happy. He snuck a few hidden glances at Subaru and Palladio, but otherwise he seemed every bit the lively boy he had been before…the shack…
Not that far away from Tiga was Salum, also more alive than Subaru would have expected. The image of his searing corpse, flayed by the flames, turned into a lump of bones, did nothing but worsen Subaru's desire to retch right then and there, but Salum looked…perfectly fine. His glare could almost put Palladio's to shame, but…he was alive…
Was Subaru dreaming? Was this some twisted version of purgatory that saw fit to put him back in this horrible place instead of taking him home? Was this a slice of heaven? One in which he would be spending eternity puking on Palladio's brand-new boots?
Disbelief and nausea made his voice croak as he spoke to Palladio, muttering, "You…killed me."
The tall man raised an eyebrow, but his expression remained frozen. "I'm beginning to wish I had," was all he said in response.
"No!" Subaru insisted, shaking his head weakly. "You…the shack…I felt it! You killed me! And Salum!"
"By the Emperor," the prince muttered with exaggerated horror, "not Salum…I don't know anyone by that name, nitwit!" He raised his chin, suddenly angry. "Don't tell me you're pretending to be a real Stargazer, now! I'm hardly the one you need to convince with that farce." He brought his guard down, but the wind bubble remained around him. "How pathetic. If you're going to put on such a feeble performance when passing yourself as one of them…, I won't lie about your chances, and you most definitely do not have my sympathies!"
Subaru brought his hand down from his mouth, feeling the nausea subside just a bit. "That's not it! I…I…"
The prince just looked at him with contempt.
"You…said you were…a king." That got Palladio's attention, and his scorn turned into a faint confusion, as if he was thinking where he had heard the term before. Subaru added, "You called yourself a 'king of both kingdoms!'"
That was something Palladio seemingly understood, and though he tried not to show it, the heir's posture went rigid. He did not say anything for a few seconds, until he turned away from Subaru and quietly strode away, leaving him with the simple off-hand comment, "Your words aren't ones I like to hear…pretender."
Subaru merely stared at his killer as the man left him behind, as confused as ever, disappearing into the winding streets of Faradar.
"What a sham…"
Given Faradar's relatively sizable population, at least compared to its size and location, Criff had expected the town to have a decent enough market. His hopes were dashed the moment he first entered Faradar…and they were completely destroyed when he saw there were no real shops in the whole village.
Everything in Faradar had been focused on getting people to survive here, with no real thought put into how they would do just about anything else. Aside from a few rare exceptions, most of which predated Drizen's attack, all of Faradar was just…a bunch of wooden houses. People ran their businesses — small-scale as they may be — from the comfort of their own homes.
By now, Criff had gone to most of the available stores, and basically every single market stall that lined the dirt roads, all in search of one single item, which only got farther and farther away from his grasp with every attempt he made to find it. With how much effort he made to get it, no one could be blamed for thinking it was some mythical artifact of unimaginable power.
In truth, it was nothing more than an ordinary lockpick.
His still-broken arm made Criff painfully aware of his first plan's failure, but he was prepared for a second attempt. Palladio Manesque was too great a threat to him, and to every person in the Peixit manor, to ignore. Sooner, rather than later, he was going to bring them all into the Selection Ceremony, if he hadn't done so already, and then they'd be up against the monsters that ripped apart Lamia's army with scarcely any effort.
The same monsters that put Criff here in the first place…
He was in no hurry to die, no, and if Palladio Manesque was, then that was between him and Muspel. No one should have to cross that beast Abellux employed, not even once…and Criff was going to bloody his hands to keep himself from ever being near that blue demon again.
If Palladio Manesque wanted to run headfirst into his own grave, then let him, but there was no line Criff wouldn't cross to avoid being dragged along.
All he needed to do was ensure the Augur would be forced away…and for that, he needed just one thing: a lockpick. A few moments in Gaoran Peixit's office would be more than enough for him to save everyone here from the vengeful anger of Vincent Abellux. If he played everything right, if the world saw fit to grant him just one small victory, then maybe Manesque and Abellux would take each other out…and Vollachia would be all the better for it.
Criff's plan was hardly a work of genius, but it would suffice. Revenge, sweet though it was, would only doom him further…so he chose to think of this as nothing more than survival.
In the middle of one of Faradar's stall-lined streets, Criff leaned against the wall of one house in particular and eyed the passing villagers. No Evil Eyes that he could spot. Maybe Drizen would take some comfort in that from beyond the grave.
About a dozen stalls, selling everything from food to clothes to entertainment in the form of parlor tricks, and yet not a single person knew where to get a lockpick. A weaker man would've broken down in tears at the thought of spending days, maybe even weeks, continuing such a futile struggle, and — with all honesty — Criff could even feel a diminutive tear welling up in his eye.
Time was of the essence, now more than ever. Every day in Manesque's shadow was a day in sight of the Imperial Hand, a prospect that very few Vollachians could admit they would happily take. He had even planned for the worst-case scenario, the ever-likelier chance that the manor would become hostile territory. A handful of escape routes were available, for now at least…but he had nothing more than the outline of an idea as to how he would make it even a step outside Peixit territory without being torn to shreds by his pursuers.
His only solution to that problem was to bring the boy along…unsavory though that proposition was.
Spending even more time with that sniveling brat was far from what Criff wanted, but the kid was — for the time being — too valuable an asset to risk harming…at least in Abellux's eyes. Just a few days ago, Criff would've laughed at the thought that puppeteering a child's way into the Imperial government would save him. He could barely muster a weak smile now.
But all that was done. No one could turn the wheel of time back, and regrets or guilt would do very little against a gang of trained assassins who saw nothing more than his orange Godwin uniform. Criff Montier would go back to his home, safe and sound, and pretend all this was a bad dream courtesy of his family's terrible ale — which he could proudly say no one else had the stomach to try more than once.
As for Natsuki Subaru…his fate was up to the stars. Criff could do little more than utter a short prayer for the kid, if only so he would prove smart enough to realize that going along with these theatrics was the only choice available.
Before Criff could come up with some alternative plan that would require no lockpicking — or some alternative way to get a damn lockpick in this wasteland — he spotted the casually-dressed Augur approach him, his face twisted into a frown. If only to keep up appearances, Criff spared the prince an unenthusiastic wave…which the man did not return.
"Cupbearer," the heir said by way of greeting. "You don't seem very busy."
The former soldier responded with a lame shrug, which caused his broken arm to sting. "I can't say I'm not busy, either."
"Save your clever words for your dead mistress. We have things to discuss."
"No, I don't believe we do." Criff emphasized his words with a tsk. "We've spoken already. That's enough Manesque for today."
A gust of wind struck Criff's cheek like a slap, and he yelped in pain, then brought his good hand up to rub the injured area. Palladio Manesque just shook his head. "Lamia must not have taught you this, Criff Montier," — his name sounded like a curse in the Augur's mouth — "but we Imperial heirs do not ask, we take, and believe me when I say it will be best for both of us if you cooperate."
An objection rose up in Criff's throat, but he silenced it. Given how many charges of "aiding an enemy of the Emperor" he had amassed already, what harm was one more? Besides…was there really any way he could stand up to Manesque, face-to-face?
Taking his silence for agreement, the tall heir said, "See? That's more like it. I have a few questions for you, so let's start with the easiest: how long have you known Natsuki Subaru?"
This one was easy. It was the first lie Criff had thought of to keep the whole Stargazer facade going. "Since the start of the Ceremony."
"And when did you join the Godwin army?"
"Just about…six months ago?"
The answer satisfied Manesque, at least for now, yet his confusion deepened, evidenced by the imperceptible curl of his lip. "And you were a First-Class Soldier? Who did you lay with to get that promotion?"
A part of Criff bristled at the question, but Manesque raised a hand to prevent him from answering.
"You look angry," he pointed out. "Is this still a painful memory to recollect? My, what am I saying, of course it is…especially since you probably saw your lover die in that battle too."
The truth was the only thing keeping Criff from trying to shut the prince up with his own hands. He had joined the Godwin army six months ago, yes…but he had enlisted a year ago. Although average in every way, his talent for tailoring was of apparent interest to the ones in charge.
Loath though he was to admit it, the rank bestowed upon him was nothing if not ceremonial, a minor award for a disappointingly-middling man like him, whose only contribution to House Godwin was a slightly less-orange uniform and the addition of a tiny chest pocket in front of the soldiers' undershirts.
As such, with the truth on his side, he tried to contain his reaction to Manesque's insults, which the prince did not appreciate, judging by his deepening frown. "Let me move on to another matter, then," he spoke. "How did a cadet like you wind up acquainted with Lamia's very own Stargazer? If I had known it was that easy to get one as a pet, I might have joined my dear sister's army alongside you."
The thought of suffering through military life with Palladio Manesque as his comrade — or worse, his superior — was just enough to make the single tear in Criff's eye streak down his wounded cheek. By Muspel's grace alone, the Augur did not notice it. "I was chosen by Lord Fondalfon," Criff answered, "after a few meetings with him, and one with Lady Godwin herself. I believe the phrase they used was 'trusted expendable.'"
"Meaning?"
"They had some inkling of an idea I wouldn't betray them…and it would be no problem to be rid of me if I ever did."
Finally, Manesque's usual cruel grin appeared on his face. "That does sound so very like her. If only she could see her dear 'expendable' now…reduced to begging for scraps from her least-favorite brother." He snapped his fingers, giving Criff a curious look. "I am going to be honest, cupbearer: I believe you, which is why I am asking these questions. In fact, I just want one more answer…how many times has that brat predicted the future?"
Criff had never met a Stargazer before. His knowledge of their power was even more limited than most, and aside from the well-known fact that they could foresee events yet to happen, he was basically in the blind regarding such strange individuals.
Because of that he had no faith in the lie he prepared just for the occasion in which anyone would ask that exact question.
"Just once," was his answer. "Before we marched on Gairahal…he said one of our own would betray us." He paused, then, for good measure, added, "Lamia thought it would be you."
"Of course she did," was all the prince replied to that. "How curious…I am starting to think, just barely, that your story makes some sense after all. Maybe you were more than just a cupbearer."
The creeping joy Criff felt at those words disappeared immediately when Manesque spoke his next sentence.
"Which, of course…I am going to have to verify." With a wink, he added, "And you are going to help me."
Looking into Manesque's gleaming yellow eyes, a small part of Criff's soul began to doubt if his life was really worth all this trouble.
It was the very-much alive Salum who approached him first.
Subaru was still trying to make sense of the whole situation. What happened back at the shack was no dream, that much he was sure of. It couldn't have been. The putrid smell of Salum's mangled and burning corpse, the terrifying sight of a blood-soaked Palladio looming over everyone else with his sword at hand, the deafening cries of horror coming from those lucky enough to have avoided the prince's wrath…
It was all far too real. He was certain of it. But that last thing he saw—
—the majestic swing of that odious crimson blade—
—it had absolutely killed him.
There was no other way to put it. That sword had slashed him in half, and that should have been the last he ever saw of Palladio…or of anyone, for that matter.
So how was he alive?
A few possibilities came to mind.
It had been an awfully real glimpse into the future. This one made little sense, particularly since things were already changing from the supposed "vision's" future.
Someone in the town had some sort of power capable of making Subaru hallucinate everything. Alternatively, they had the power to turn time backwards.
In some way, at some point, in his eleven years of life, Subaru had acquired the power to go back in time after his death. Hard to prove, since this was his first time dying.
In any other circumstances, his bet would normally have been on possibility number two, yet that raised the question of who in Faradar held that power. Most likely an Evil Eye…but which? There were likely dozens, if not hundreds, of them in the village, and Subaru had no way of knowing which of them — if any — had used such magic on him.
His likeliest culprit was the Witch, that woman with the mirror store, but given she had been part of the hallucination/time-loop/fake future/whatever this was, he had his doubts. Possibility two was likely off the table.
Possibility one fared no better. If Subaru proclaiming himself a Stargazer had been enough to bestow him their power…well, that likely went against a couple basic magic rules! How many people would abuse such an exploit!? And on the off-chance he somehow was a Stargazer…what were the odds he would be forced into this situation with Criff in the first place!?
That left possibility three…which Subaru really had no strong counter to. It did raise one big question, however: at what point did he acquire such a power? He felt no different from normal even now, and aside from the stress of Vollachia and the ever-present sense of soul-devouring dread that clawed at him whenever he thought of home, he felt like he always had, and to his recollection he had never used such a power willingly.
There was really only one way for him to find out, and it involved…dying again.
Subaru chose to put aside his search for an answer. It probably wouldn't matter. It wasn't like he went around looking for delirious noblemen to provoke into murdering him…so whatever this had been would likely be of no use in the future if he could help it.
Lost in his thoughts, he hadn't noticed Salum approach him until the older boy cleared his throat loudly — Subaru guessed this wasn't the first time he did so — and caught his attention. Up close, Salum looked more like an intimidating thug than a teenager not even five years older than Subaru himself. It was easy to forget he probably hadn't been born with that perpetual expression that made it look like he ate ceramic for breakfast.
When Salum said nothing for a few seconds, Subaru opened up with a very casual, definitely-not-amazed, "You…are alive!"
"I should hope so," was the teenager's reply. His expression never changed. Who knew how long he had practiced it in front of the mirror for occasions like this one? "What did you say to the nobleman?"
"It's a long story…but do you remember ever going to that shack? The one by the lake? I was there with you!"
"No."
"But—"
"No." This time Salum's voice hardened. He displayed no clear emotions, and if anything he looked bored all the time, but now he was a completely blank slate. "Answer my question."
Subaru shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose with his hand. "I swear you were there with me! And Tiga! You were all…cut up and stuff! Bleeding and all that…then Palladio…killed you."
"Is this 'Palladio' that nobleman?"
Subaru nodded.
"When did this happen?"
For a moment, Subaru debated on how to respond. "I think…it hasn't happened yet…"
Salum stomped his foot. "I have no interest in riddles. Answer clearly."
"I'm trying to! Look…you were in that house, the one near the edge of the town! Tiga and I…we dragged you out…you took us to the shack! I…saw that girl in there…"
A new voice cut in, filled with overly-enthusiastic cheer. "Whoa-ho, hey, Subaru, buddy! I don't think I remember that either!"
Tiga just barely reached up to Salum's shoulder, and the two couldn't have been any more different, but now, for the first time that Subaru had seen, the two shared a strange look in their eyes, one that Tiga hid behind his friendly smile. He was obviously just as confused as Salum was…maybe even as confused as Subaru was…but he was also cautious.
Subaru took a few seconds to think of his next words. "Look…I know you guys are hiding a girl in that shack—"
"There is no shack," Salum's dry and emotionless voice interjected.
"—and I get that you don't want to, you know, talk about it—"
"Buddy, are you accusing us of trafficking people?" Tiga's joyously interrupted.
Subaru raised his hands, asking for quiet. "—but I'm with you on this! That tall guy, with the scarf? He's looking for that girl too…he wants her for something." His voice cracked a bit as he added, "I mean, come on! Don't you…remember? We went there all together! We…I…got…"
The words, which came so easily earlier, sounded alien to his ears as he forced them through his trembling throat, the reality of what he was saying finally sinking in.
"I…got killed—"
That was when the world froze over.
The gentle gushing wind, the lazy clouds strolling above in their domain, the cheering children playing with one another in the square…even Tiga and Salum, their expressions complete opposites to one another. It all…stopped.
No sound, no scent, nothing but the sight of a colorless, odorless, soundless world completely encapsulating Subaru within a bubble of nothingness. His whole body went numb, unable to even tremble as it had before.
Reality, frozen in this unimaginable purgatory, mocked him from beyond its veil, calling out for him to rejoin it. Subaru waited, but this one second, this one moment, stretched into the horizon of infinity. Nothing changed.
He did not tremble, but fear overtook him. A powerful, all-encompassing fear. It slithered up his spine, grabbed him by the nape, and whispered one thing in his ear, one phrase, one command:
"Don't be scared of me."
It wasn't a familiar voice that spoke those words. It was one Subaru had never heard before, sounding distant, melancholic. He tried to force himself to speak, to say something, anything that might break him out of this frozen hell, but his mouth wouldn't move.
"Don't be scared of me." The words were a curse.
A sharp, excruciating, blinding pain ripped through Subaru's small body. Every single nerve in his entire body shot out a warning so powerful it would have crippled him if he could move, left him keeled-over in agony under any other circumstances. Every thought in his mind was telling him to get away, to run away, to flee as far and as fast as he could from the phantom voice that caught him in its grasp.
From his chest emerged a cloud of darkness, passing through him as if he was never even there. It floated, coalesced into a black hand, the color of a starless night. Five sharp-clawed fingers reached up to his face.
Subaru would have closed his eyes in terror if he could have.
The hand reached his face…and in a moment of quiet, it cupped his cheek, gently stroking it. The words resounded in his ear again, whispered, deafeningly-loud in this void, "Don't be scared of me."
It all vanished.
The hand, the void, the pain. In a moment of sudden shock, Subaru realized it was all…gone. The wind, the clouds, the children, all went back to normal. The phantom voice left him alone with its pleading words.
Immediately, he fell down sideways on the floor, clutching his chest, barely registering Tiga's presence kneeling beside him, doing what he could to examine Subaru for any injuries. The pain was no longer ripping him apart from the inside, but he was terrified, so, so, terrified of that phantom voice and its ridiculous request.
He managed to look up just in time to notice a new person had come: a large man, so large his overalls were close to bursting at the seams, with his left shoulder uncovered, a huge pitch-black eye proudly displayed on it, looking around aimlessly.
Muscles, who looked noticeably out of breath, spoke something to Salum, who had stepped away, still eyeing Subaru with caution and suspicion. Their conversation lasted very little, and Muscles walked — limped, rather — away with Salum in tow.
"No," Subaru managed to weakly protest, raising an uncontrollable-trembling hand to point at the pair of Evil Eyes. Tiga said something he couldn't hear, but Subaru fought back his terror to say again, "No…stop them…don't let them…go…"
Tiga's smile disappeared as he turned to look for his friend, who was no longer there.
The Center of Imperial Administration was once the cornerstone of Faradar.
These Centers were spread around most Vollachian cities, overseen by the Imperial government itself. They were stamps of approval, in a way: if the city was deemed worthy of the Emperor's attention, even for just a moment, one of these Centers would be erected from which the Emperor's legions of clerks and scribes could maintain contact with the capital, Lupugana. Each Center, no matter its size or staffing, did its part in connecting every piece of the Empire to the others.
Faradar's Center was once the beating heart of the city. Dozens of Evil Eyes willingly offered their services to the soulless behemoth that was the Imperial Administration, cataloging and communicating reports on things like population numbers, crop harvests, crime statistics, local ordinances, and even public sentiment regarding various topics. With the Center's daily operations, the Emperor was able to monitor Faradar as easily as if he was there in person.
It came as a surprise, then, that it was the first place to be completely destroyed in the Night of Fire.
The Imperial Hand provided most of the butchers that bloodied their hands that night, with the rest being an assortment of Imperial Army elites, Ginunhive pardonees, Drizen's own Crystal Guard, and even a few Veil agents who wouldn't pass up the opportunity to document this historic event…and do some dissections. Hundreds of deadly fanatics, trained since infancy to carry out the Emperor's will, descended onto the village, and the dirt roads of Faradar were awash with crimson blood.
The Center was utterly annihilated, its dozens of employees trapped inside as the flame of retribution reduced them all to nothing more than petrifying howls of torturous agony that spread far and wide. Most of the Tribe's leaders perished then and there, before Faradar was ever aware of the calamity that would befall it not even a minute later; a loss that would haunt them even four decades later.
As a final insult, since the mass-murder and complete eradication of an entire demi-human species wasn't enough, Drizen ordered the Center closed for the rest of his reign, cutting off the town from the rest of Vollachia. Everything the villagers took for granted — news, merchants, letters, and even the occasional government aid — disappeared overnight. The great tree that was Faradar had been felled, burned, and pulled out by the roots.
Still, the village survived. That fact made Palladio prouder than anything else.
The Evil Eyes had faced the worst Drizen had to offer, turned into pariahs in their own home, then isolated from the entire world, and still they thrived. Piece-by-piece, they rebuilt their glory up from nothing. Maybe one day, in the distant future, they would be in a position to enact revenge for what was done to them.
The distant future, however, was too far away. Palladio lived in the now, and by the time this Selection Ceremony was finished, he would be at the apex of the Empire, free to mete out punishment to all who played even a minuscule role in that tragic affair. The Tribe had done its part. All that remained was for it to pledge loyalty to him, and from the moment Palladio took the throne to the moment he breathed his last, the Evil Eyes would rule without opposition.
And if the Tribe refused to pledge, well…Palladio couldn't permit them any funny ideas. He would just have to do away with the old and found a new Tribe, starting with him. In a way, that option appealed to him even more. With the current Tribe, he could be a king. With the new one, he would be a god.
But godhood had its own challenges, and Palladio would sort them out later. Now was the time to act, and to rid himself of the pests in his way.
What should've been a short trek through the village turned into a rather long walk as Palladio got himself lost a handful of times, leading to unbearably-embarrassing conversations with Criff, who seemed to know his way around better than even him. It was disgraceful for Palladio to not even know the layout of his people's home, but he bore the displeasure for now. He would know Faradar like the back of his hand before the day was through…no matter how many times he had to get lost in its winding streets.
Still, his objective was completed the moment the Center's ugly brick-like structure came into sight. Criff looked uneasy the whole walk, but he seemed suddenly alert the moment he realized their destination. Even with his broken arm and nose, he carried himself more like a soldier than like the beaten and cowering rat he was pretending to be. Palladio could somewhat respect that. Perhaps he would wind up with his very own cupbearer before the day was through, provided he could rid the man of his admittedly-perturbing obsession with Lamia.
Mustering as much confidence as he could afford with his vast wealth, Palladio puffed his chest out and raised his chin, standing proud and tall, as he approached the Center's door. It was an ugly door, perfect for the ugly building it was attached to, wooden and haphazardly repaired over the years. In front of it stood an Evil Eye with freakishly-large muscles and — despite his attempts at obscuring it — no face save for a mouth and a patchwork of burnt scar tissue.
The Evil Eye — both the organ and the man — turned toward Palladio as he approached. He waited for Palladio to speak first, and thus Palladio obliged. "Lovely home you've made for yourselves here," he began, trying his best to make his grin look friendly. "Perfect place to settle down, plant a few crops, tend to the garden…and die of boredom."
"We have no quarrel with you, Lord Manesque," the man spoke, raising a large hand. "I would advise you to do whatever you have come here to do and leave Faradar alone."
"My, that's no way to speak to an heir of the Empire, now is it? You may speak to your carrots and your hunting dogs in such a way, but I would like to believe myself worthy of more respect. I shall allow you one chance to rectify this and step aside."
The man did not budge. "Lord Manesque, we are honored to know one of ours is on his way to the throne, and even more so that you have honored us with your presence, but we are not part of the Empire any longer. Kindly keep us out of your schemes."
Palladio turned for a moment to look at Criff, savoring the cringing expression the blond man had on his face, before looking at the muscular Evil Eye again and proclaiming, "How disappointing that I have to do this the hard way."
With a flick of his wrist, faster than the man or Criff could follow, a gust of wind with the force of a raging mabeast smacked the Evil Eye right in the middle of his chest, perfectly beneath his ribcage. He fell to his knees, gasping, and Palladio let out a little chuckle at the ridiculous image of such a man struck down with such ease.
His way to the Center now clear, Palladio approached the door, stopping right behind the Evil Eye gatekeeper. Pressing his thumb against his middle finger, Palladio flicked the man right in the back of his neck, and delivered another wind strike that knocked him to the floor. It wasn't enough to kill him…probably.
He watched Criff step over the unconscious man warily, looking afraid…of him. Unfortunate. That just wouldn't do. Wearing his best smile, he said, "Wipe that cowardly look off your face, cupbearer. Behold how this giant was so easily put down, and remember it." He reached a hand out to Criff, offering a handshake, but the soldier just eyed him with suspicion.
Without breaking his smile, Palladio stepped closer to him, and in the blink of an eye grabbed Criff by the front of his shirt. Thanks to Palladio's height, he was a good head taller than Criff, and relished in the simple pleasure of looking down — literally — on those who displeased him.
"I fear we may have gotten off to a bad start, Criff Montier," the heir whispered, uttering Criff's name like a vile curse. "Let this be my re-introduction, yes? Let this be all you need to know about me: you're either out of my way or in it. For the former, there can be anything they desire. For the latter…just look at our fallen acquaintance over here."
Criff did as instructed, trying to avoid looking Palladio in the eye, so the prince grabbed him by the neck and forced him to do so, adding quietly, "You can make the choice, cupbearer, to entrust your future to me. Believe me when I say…it is safer in my hands than in yours."
He let go of Criff, and in one single fluid move, raised his arm up high, calling forth the burning hilt of the Yang Sword, before swinging it down against the wooden door, slicing through it as if slicing air. The door fell to the floor as nothing more than burning wreckage, and Palladio let go of his trusted blade, letting it vanish into…wherever it went when not in use. He had only wielded the Yang Sword for a short while, since Drizen's death, but he happily gave it a spot in his Very Short List of Things He Loved, right along his scarf.
The sword gone from his hand, Palladio walked through the doorway, making a show of how he dusted himself off as he looked around the inside of the Center. It was a massive building, three stories tall, with two spiral staircases on the front corners. Neat rows of chairs and desks had been arranged along the ground floor, making the place look more like an army barracks than any administrative office Palladio had ever been to — which, thanks to his title, was a lot — and gave it a slipshod improvised feel. Everything inside looked old, to say the least, and some of the decorations — paintings, tapestries, furniture, and all of that — looked like it came from before the Great Calamity itself. The decorations themselves were mismatched, clearly picked at random, but they did the hard work of making the Center look lived-in.
Everything else gave the opposite impression. The walls, the stairs, and even the floor and ceiling, all made of that gray stone, had all cracked under the searing fire of that horrible night. It ripped the building apart at its foundation, and with little resources to fix it, the townsfolk had resorted to using some local stone that was a dull yellow. Everything that had come after the Night of Fire looked new, if a bit garish. Everything else looked like the rotting bones of the building's corpse.
Around the various tables sat a fair number of Evil Eyes, all proudly displaying their third eyes, as if daring anyone who stepped in to just try and insult them. They seemed to be arranged around the room by order of seniority, with most of them grouped up by age. The most important table lay at the center of the room, surrounded by the eldest in the Tribe, most of them survivors of the Night of Fire itself and proudly displaying the scars they gained from it, their skins ruined with burn tissue that never fully healed. A fair number of them lacked a limb or two.
Several of the Evil Eyes looked at him, their expressions all in the range between disbelief and anger. More than a few tried to stand and confront him, a couple even got out of their chairs, but they stayed near their tables. Palladio knew it was fear that kept them back — fear of the elders, of him — and he relished the feeling. It was nice to be the fearsome one for a change.
The elders in the middle barely spared him a glance, and Palladio stopped just out of arm's length from their table. There were empty chairs around it, three in total, but five elders sat on the rest, trying their best to pretend he didn't exist.
Palladio thought about how to make the most out of this limited interaction. It was clear the Evil Eyes of Faradar wanted little to do with him, but he wouldn't take their silence as a final answer. He needed to get them talking for as long as he could, make them cede to his demands…and finally, pledge allegiance to House Manesque.
He rounded the table until he found a vacant spot, almost perfectly in the middle of the elders, then raised his hand and called for the Yang Sword. It materialized in his palm as always, its comforting warmth a gentle reminder of its presence, then, and as a few Evil Eyes gasped in shock, he turned it into a reverse grip, then stabbed the sword of sunlight into the wooden table, its blade so long that it pierced the stone floor beneath.
The elders looked at the Yang Sword with utter hatred. Good. Better that than complete ignorance. With a dramatic flair, Palladio spun around to address the other Evil Eyes, the younger generations, a couple of which were younger still than him. "Forty years ago, was it? And yet it feels like yesterday. Our proud people, we who survived exile in Gusteko, oppression in Lugunica, slavery in Kararagi…finally broken under the might of Vollachia."
"You have no right!" one called out, a man ten years older than Palladio, whose peers tried to hold him back. "You speak of it like you feel for us, but you bear that bloodred stain of destruction, the same your father wielded against us!"
Criff looked like he would rather be dead than present for this meeting, but Palladio continued, "And with it in my hand, I have carved out a future for the Evil Eye Tribe, laid the foundation for an Empire with our kin at its pinnacle. This sword is a tool. My father was unimaginative, insecure…in it, he saw nothing more than a flimsy way to mend his reputation." To emphasize his point, he beckoned the nearest table, one full of Evil Eyes his own age, to stand. They remained seated. "You must know my name by now. Palladio Manesque. My father was Drizen, the Scarlet Painter, the man some of you might remember seeing here on that night, personally culling our brethren.
"I know of our kind's plight, and since I was old enough to speak, I have made my intentions for our revival clear. Even when Drizen himself stood in my way, I never wavered, never veered off-path from my holy mission. Now, Drizen is dead, and I stand before you as one of the last remaining heirs to the throne. Power on an unimaginable scale is right at my fingertips, siblings…and I would like nothing more than to share it with you, who so rightfully deserve it."
At last, one of the elders, a gruff woman with barely any voice in her throat, spoke up. "Your benevolence honors us, but do not treat us as fools. We know you wish for something in return."
Palladio's grin never wavered as he cleared his throat, then snapped his fingers. "Just knowing our Tribe is back to what it once was would be enough payment…but unfortunately, I find myself in a dire situation." He pointed to Criff, who physically recoiled at the sudden attention. "This man here is one of the few allies I have left. He has braved great danger to accompany me here, knowing it would put his life in peril." Those words made the former soldier eye the entrance, where the burning door had stopped smoldering.
Without missing a beat, Palladio continued, "But I know we are few. Let none say Palladio Manesque knows not the value of a life. Had I come here to beg for measly footsoldiers, I would've better spent my time watching the clouds pass by. I am here to ask for your allegiance, not as martyrs, but as heralds of a new age. You will never have to leave Faradar, and no danger will come to you as long as I breathe."
"Honeyed words," another elder interrupted, "do not honest words make. You still try to deceive us, Lord Manesque."
"Forget the deceiving!" cried the man from before, whose comrades had given up attempting to silence. "He dares to come here and parade like we can just forget what his father did!? We should have exiled him from our town, not granted him an audience!"
Before Palladio could continue, another Evil Eye, a woman near his age, replied, "And what would that have accomplished? We're barely getting by now, always on the verge of starvation, our numbers dropping every day…why are we pretending like staying here would gain us anything other than a slow death?"
A new voice jumped in, though Palladio couldn't discern from where in the room. "You wretched Vindicator! If you want to spout that rebellious drivel—"
At that, the gathered Tribesmen erupted into chaos, hurling accusations and curses at one another. The prince watched with glee as those who had so eagerly stood against him now turned on their own comrades.
"—isn't going to get us anything! We'll be forgotten—"
"—has the Empire done for us? Our town is peaceful and—"
"—there's no other choice!—"
"—we'll die out there!—"
"—we're dying here already!—"
One voice in particular, soft and low, spoke to Palladio. "Are you proud of this?"
He faced the elder woman, the one with barely any voice, and smirked. "Why should I be proud? They did this to themselves. You did this to yourselves. It seems to me like the Tribe is in need of new leadership."
"What are your demands?" asked a new elder, a dark-skinned woman with no hair on her head.
Finally, Palladio thought, mentally sneering at the bickering crowd. It was about time.
"Let me begin with the simplest: I want every record you might have of Stargazers."
He noticed the way Criff tensed up. The elders looked more confused than anything. One tried to touch the Yang Sword, but wisely refrained from doing so.
"I don't need to explain myself, I hope," Palladio added, smoothing out his shirt. My demand is clear. Get me those records, or tell me where I may find them. As for you," he said, looking at Criff, "what did I say about that cowardly look? I believe what you told me earlier…but I will believe these records even more."
The bald woman was the one who answered, "They are on the top floor. One of our archivists may show you where."
"Delightful! That was easy, see? As for my second demand—"
A particularly loud voice yelled over the others amidst the chaos. "—YOU MIGHT AS WELL JOIN THE IMPERIALS THEN!—"
Palladio shook his head. "My, how nasty. Maybe my first gift to you will be teaching everyone present some court etiquette."
"Your second demand," the honeyed-words elder, a small man with a sagging face, spoke.
"I want the murderer who killed our brethren at the solstice festival."
The honeyed-words elder motioned for another Tribesman, a young teen, to come to him and whispered something about "fetching Kelain" in his ear before sending him away from the Center, as the bald woman elder said, "I fear that is impossible. The murderer has faced the Tribe's justice."
"Is that so? How unfortunate…that you choose to lie even now. Do you think me dumb enough to not check beforehand?" Palladio had, in fact, not checked beforehand, but the elders' concerned expressions told him that this bluff had worked. "If you fail me now, our deal will be only one-third done. That hardly qualifies for what I promised you, now does it?"
"It is no lie," the whispering elder replied. "The murderer has been exiled from here. We know nothing of her, not even if she lives still."
"You must surely know her name, or will you tell me she had none?"
The honeyed-words elder was the one who responded. "It was…Melty Pristis."
Palladio gave a mock bow in gratitude. "Thank you. Now, all that remains is one final detail. I hope we are able to see to it without issue."
"Which is?" asked the bald elder.
"Your pledge of loyalty to me. It will be good enough, given I can hardly ask all these ruffians," — his words were backed by a chair that went flying across the room — "and I trust you will lead them onto the right path. My path."
The honeyed-words elder frowned. "What does this pledge entail?"
"Loyalty to me, Palladio Manesque, until my death. Service in my Empire, under administrative or strategic positions that I will deem fit to grant you. The re-establishment of this Center and subsequent growth of Faradar. The occasional military conscription whenever necessary."
"You would turn us into your private army," the whispering elder hissed.
"I have one already," he responded, "and believe me when I say I have no desire to employ any of you in my army, but a few promising candidates may arise in time."
The five elders exchanged glances, and the fifth one, one who had until now not spoken, was the one to deliver their verdict. She was an old woman, older than the others, and she answered Palladio's request with a simple shake of her head.
The honeyed-words elder was the one who explained their decision. "Lord Manesque, you are a Tribesman in every aspect of the word. We are glad to call you our brother, but you misunderstand the very basic truth that your ancestors followed."
Palladio's smile remained frozen in his face. "Enlighten me, then."
"The Evil Eye Tribe is sworn to no master, banner, or cause. It exists unto itself, enduring all the hardships of the world solely because it must. The Tribe has no grand design to accomplish. Revenge, power, even prosperity…all are irrelevant to our kin. We survive, through better and worse, so we may last forever."
In the first wise move Palladio had ever seen from him, Criff stepped away from the table until he was far enough away to avoid any potential friendly fire. Palladio, in turn, merely clapped. "Honeyed words indeed, good sir. Allow me to ask, then…what you describe, how is it any different from withering away? What makes our Tribe a proud and strong creature, and not a sick and frail husk?"
The elder gave a faint smile. "It is the wisdom of age that allows us to see it that way."
"No, you doddering bastard," Palladio spat, "it is your idiocy. Still, that is answer enough by itself. Allow me to express my gratitude to you for your steadfast devotion to the Tribe, and my condolences for what I must do."
Even before he finished, the elder closest to him, the silent one, moved away quickly. Not quickly enough, however. Palladio swung his arm, wind magic rippled through the cacophony of insults, and in an instant, an unseen blade of air cut through the woman's head right below her nose, and she fell on the ground, dead before she even hit the stone floor. The blade continued on, cutting another Tribesman's arm before dissipating against the stone wall.
In a second, the room devolved into a battle. Criff slipped away to the nearest stair as stealthily as he could, ignored by everyone present. The honeyed-words elder struck at Palladio with an old hand, but staggered back as his leathery skin went up in flames, courtesy of the Yang Sword's protective aura, ever-present around Palladio's lean body. The Evil Eyes all around the room began attacking one another, a few even fled, though a couple came at Palladio with intent to kill.
His wind magic — and the Yang Sword's barrier-flame — proved enough to keep them away, at least for a few moments. That was all Palladio needed. As one Tribesman attempted to escape the Center, he was put down by a small figure half his size that delivered a flurry of unarmed strikes to his torso with such brutality that Palladio could swear he heard the fool's bones snap through the deafening pandemonium.
The figure immediately moved to the nearest Evil Eye and struck him down with another couple blows, moving faster than anyone present could keep track of, switching to another target even before the current one hit the ground.
From this distance, Palladio could identify the figure's short hair, styled much like his own, and her House Manesque servant's uniform. He hardly needed to see Lutka's pitch-black eyes to recognize her, even in the chaos of this battle. It was good to see she'd known when to jump in.
Palladio turned to the whispering elder, and in one smooth motion grabbed hold of the Yang Sword from the table, swinging it at the nearest assailant, the bald elder who was stupid enough to get too close to him. The crimson blade cleaved through her chest all the way through, leaving her bisected body to scream its death throes as the flames consumed it.
The Augur kept his mocking smirk as he cheerfully asked, "Looks like I don't even need an army, now does it?"
It took Subaru what felt like a short eternity to get the crippling fear out of his system.
Whatever that thing, that demon with the dark hand, had been, one thing was clear to him: no matter how much it pleaded, he would not stop being afraid of it. He wanted to stay as far away from that creature as he possibly could, and if getting back home to Japan would free him of this stalking shadow, he would do just about anything to see it done.
Despite his attempts at convincing Tiga to go with Salum, the mint-haired boy remained by his side, his expression one of concern — though Subaru couldn't tell if it was for him or because of him. He spent his time recovering and trying to think how to pick his words carefully enough for Tiga to understand he meant no harm to him or that girl in the shack. Convincing Salum would be an entirely different problem…which Subaru would be more than glad to tackle once he ensured the teenager survived.
Subaru had very little knowledge of Faradar — or Vollachia as a whole — but he could put the pieces together well enough. Last time, in the previous…"loop," Salum went alone and got himself caught by Palladio somehow, which led Palladio to the shack. He had said Palladio knew about the shack without needing to question him…so then, why was he captured in the first place?
The memory of last night came back to Subaru.
"Leave me be, flea."
Palladio had spoken to him telepathically, and he only did so after shearing off a lock of Subaru's hair. Back in the previous loop, Salum had lost a finger…the only part of his body he was straight-up missing. Was it far-fetched to assume Palladio's telepathy had some connection to that? Had he made Salum assume the worst only so he would lead him to the shack?
It could very easily just be a conspiracy theory dreamed up in this delirious state of perpetual fear, but Subaru was convinced of it, even if it meant Palladio would be a far greater adversary than he had anticipated. Maybe the pompous madman wasn't all talk, after all.
That just meant Subaru would have to double his effort to take him down.
Did he have to do this? Maybe not. Maybe Palladio's greed would drive him headfirst into a situation he wouldn't escape from, and that'd be that, but Subaru could not — would not — let a psychopath like him roam free and unchecked. It might not be his fight now, but he was going to finish it nonetheless.
Tiga had remained by his side as he laid on the ground and recovered from the shock of that haunting encounter with the Shadow. He had no better way to describe it still, nothing better to name it, but he wouldn't stick around for long enough to actually need to name it. He was going home the second he had the chance to do so.
Subaru couldn't tell how long it had been since the Shadow's appearance, though it felt like a long time, a fact that was backed up by his realization that the playing children in the square had mostly left, and a small crowd formed to mingle, with several villagers carrying food in their hands. It was probably lunch time.
With a small effort, Subaru managed to turn himself face-down and get on his knees, surprising Tiga, who moved away to give him space and immediately afterwards said, "Whoa, hey! You're looking better already! What's the matter, buddy? Did you see a hollow?"
Subaru managed a weak laugh, then answered, "I wish it was just that."
In response, Tiga laughed half-heartedly, clearly still concerned. He waited for Subaru to stand up completely, then asked, "So, hey…what exactly were you talking about back then?"
This was it. Time for Subaru to pull out all the stops. If he failed to convince Tiga to ally with him, then this would all go from bad to worse. "Tiga…"
"Yeah?"
"I am…a Stargazer."
Tiga's response to that was surprisingly disappointing. "Huh. That sounds…great? Does that mean you can see the future and stuff?"
"Uh…yeah, basically!"
With a confused nod, Tiga muttered, "I see…so, uh, tell me something then…what'd I have for breakfast?"
Subaru was taken aback by the question. "I can't see the past! You're already getting it all confused!"
"Hey, you're right! Man, you must really be a Stargazer! I doubt they'd hire people who couldn't answer such a simple question."
"That's not the point!" He balled his fists, shaking them in the air between him and Tiga. "Look, I can tell this is probably really weird for you! I'm some guy you just met and now I'm rambling about your friend in the shack and all that, but you have to trust me when I say I'm on your side!"
"Really? Alright."
"I mean it—wait, 'alright?' That's it?"
Tiga shrugged, not looking bothered in the slightest by his own sudden change of heart. "I can't exactly say I trust you, but if you're lyin', then I'll just ask Salum to deal with you." He paused, then quickly added, "And of course…I'm not letting you out of my sight."
"Wait, wait! That's all it took to convince you!? I had a whole speech prepared!"
"Eh, believe me, I've been here a couple of years and a Stargazer's not the strangest thing we've seen around. Besides…I'm just a humble child, ain't I? It's not like my trust matters all that much."
"I'll take your word for it then!" Subaru finally smiled and pumped his fist in the air. "Alright! Now, next step of the plan: get Salum on our side!"
Tiga grimaced. "Yeah~, good luck with that one. Only reason I got on his good side was because someone else came along that he could be suspicious of…so I guess I can thank you for that."
"What!? Don't just throw me under the bus like that, man!"
Laughing, Tiga waved his hands as if to clear the air. "Look, that guy who came to get Salum, I know where he usually stays. Salum will probably be with him."
Subaru tried his hardest to remember what Tiga — the previous Tiga — had said in the last loop. "The, uh…Central Administration?"
"Close enough," the other boy replied happily, before bringing a finger to his chin. "You seem to know a bit about our dear town…is that just Stargazer stuff?"
"You could chalk it up to that."
"Amazing…how do I get hired to be one of you guys? I've got some business experience if that's useful…did you know the easiest way to bump up your profits is to cut your wages?"
"Whoa…"
"I know." Tiga nodded again, this time with a smug smile on his face. "There's more wisdom where that came from."
Subaru waved a hand to prevent him from saying anything further. "We can save it for later! Right now, I need you to guide me to where Salum is, alright?"
Tiga eyed him with a strange look, then finally shrugged, cheerfully commenting, "Sure thing, but it'll be your funeral, buddy."
He didn't know how accurate that statement was.
Clearing out the Center was faster than Palladio expected, and in just a couple of minutes, he was standing alone in the middle of the blood-stained floor, spotless.
Around sixty corpses laid on the ground near him, most of them burnt to charcoal-colored husks. Not much of a pretty sight, and the stench was almost unbearable, but Palladio could stand it for a little bit. He had Lutka finish up any stragglers just to be sure. After today, the Evil Eye Tribe would never recover. Fine by him.
A new age awaited Palladio, heralded by a Tribe of his own making, yet one small, obnoxious, disgusting, and — worst of all — concerning obstacle stood in his way: Natsuki Subaru.
Palladio prided himself on being a good judge of character. He could often understand people with barely any interaction necessary. There were few occasions in which he was off the mark, but even then not by much. That made Natsuki Subaru all the more worrisome. Palladio was completely sure the boy was no Stargazer…so how had he known all that nonsense he spat in their last conversation?
It had been Palladio himself who came up with that title, "King of Both Kingdoms," and he had never uttered it since coming to Faradar, or even near his half-siblings. There was absolutely no way that the boy would know of it…so how could he?
Palladio sat on the honeyed-words elder's chair, resting his feet up on the still-scorched wooden table, as he flicked through the pages of a thick tome. Criff sat opposite to him, trying his best to ignore the massacre around him, his eyes glossy with…what? Tears? It didn't matter.
Lutka stood behind Criff, arms crossed. Even with the former soldier sitting, she was just barely taller than him.
Adding a bit of flair to his page-flicking, Palladio stopped and pointed to a drawing on the page, which depicted a hooded individual beneath a pattern of stars that took on the shape of the Vollachian emblem, the swordwolf. "Now, see," he spoke, clicking his tongue, "this is all just speculation and superstition…but it seems to agree with what you told me."
Criff mumbled something incoherent.
"Now, now, don't grumble," the Augur instructed him. "It ruins your whole look, you know. Still, I have a couple questions to ask you. Just need to…check some things, you understand?"
No response.
"I'm impressed, you know. It's not a lie any backwater farmer could come up with, and I could see it working on just about anyone else…but you had the bad luck of running into the Augur. I haven't gotten that title for no reason."
Again, Criff mumbled something, but this time Palladio made out a single word, "Tailor."
"What was that?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Finally, Criff answered with a clear voice. "I was…a tailor. Still am."
"Oh, good. I've been looking for someone to attach a couple feathers to my Emperor's cloak."
Palladio chuckled at that, but Criff remained as he was.
The prince sighed. "Come on, now. Did you think victory was clean? Bloodless? Nice? I can promise you Lamia's done this before more than once. You just had the luxury to be far enough away that you didn't have to see it." He leaned forward, trying to look Criff in the eyes. "You're a soldier for a reason. I'm a prince for a reason. We must both perfect our craft through this kind of…unpleasantness."
"They were your people," Criff muttered.
"Emphasis on 'were,'" was the Augur's reply. "Let me tell you one simple fact: I have never met any of these buffoons before. In fact, I spent more time with my dear and beloved brother Vincent than any of these vermin. Do you think that would stay my blade if Vincent was here with us now?"
When Criff remained silent, Palladio continued.
"Ah, cupbearer, you are so like the Rose Knight. They say, when she visited the town of Tieros, she found all she wished for. She abandoned the town to continue her mission, and only once she accomplished it, did she realize how much she wished she had never left." He shook his head with clear disapproval. "You are one lucky man…and all it took was a single unlucky day for you to realize that fate's whims are unreliable."
Lowering his head, Criff responded, "Just last week…I had everything. My friends were laughing by a campfire about how horrible our rations were. One of them grabbed the uniform I was mending and threw it into the fire." He gave a despondent sigh. "It belonged to a member of the Pruning Corps, who gave us all a good scolding when she found out she would have to go to battle without it."
A long pause.
"I saw her again, that day," Criff stammered. "What was left of her. She was one of those…what are they called? The horse-people? It doesn't matter. She was taller than three of you, and when I found her…they'd only left half of her behind. She's still there, I wager."
Palladio recognized the look in Criff's eyes. It was the haunting trauma of unprocessed loss, the belief that maybe, just maybe, he should have died alongside the others, and so Palladio spoke, "When I was a child, I barely knew my father. Drizen was a very busy man — understandably so — and so it was just my mother and I, living peacefully in Lupugana. I would walk past paintings and statues of Drizen Vollachia and my mother would say, 'Look, that will be you soon.'" He cleared his throat, and his smile dropped. "One night…I killed her. I have no other way of describing what happened then, but I regretted it for the rest of my life. Do you know why?"
"Because you're a family-murdering freak?"
"Partly so. It was because my father took me in. I lived in the Crystal Palace for years, in Drizen's shadow. I learned, from him, how he destroyed everything that my mother had lived for. How he had done the same to many others. There are many people I despise in this world, living or dead — Prisca is easily atop that list — but I have never hated anyone as much as I hated Drizen Vollachia. My greatest joy is having been there the day he finally did the world a favor and killed himself, and I will relive that moment in my dreams until the day I die as well.
"Let me make this clear, Criff Montier. I have nothing against you. I have — had — nothing against dear Lamia. In a few ways, she was my favorite sibling. However…I cannot stand those who mire themselves in their own misfortune. Your life will not wait for you to escape your memories. I won't wait either."
Before he could continue speaking, a voice cried out from the door. Palladio did not even look to see who it was, and instead just rolled his three eyes.
"Lutka," he said, "it would seem some rude people wish to interrupt my conversation here."
Lutka nodded, her face as impassive as ever.
"Teach them some manners."
Even after surviving the Shadow's psychic attack as well as he had, Subaru needed some help walking.
Tiga was more than happy to oblige. After a few failed attempts, he figured out the best way to help Subaru out was by just putting his arm across Subaru's shoulder and walking in tandem with him. It took some impressive coordination to prevent Subaru from falling face-first into the dirt, but they made it work.
In their walk to the Center of Imperial Administration — a name so nice, Subaru just had to say it twice — he talked a bit with Tiga, trying to figure out more about the boy. "You said you were…what was it? Kararara…you know!"
Chuckling, Tiga corrected him, "Kararagian! Don't really remember much about that place…Faradar's nicer in every way. Only thing I miss would be their accent."
"Really?" asked Subaru, disbelieving. "Nothing else?"
"What? Everything they have winds up here, eventually. Only thing that never caught on was the accent! And it's so fun too…what a shame." He seemed to think about it for a moment, then, with a sleazy drawl to his voice, he said, "Ah coulda tried ta make it work, ya know, but there ain't much 'nterest innit!"
Subaru physically recoiled at the alien language. "Please…never speak that way again."
"Hey, wouldja look at that," the other boy grinned, "it's powerful enough to beat a Stargazer! Kararagi reigns supreme, as ever!"
"Don't start with that!" Subaru protested as his friend laughed. "Anyway…what was it like?"
"Well…hot. Did I mention that before? I don't think I can really explain how hot it was." He made a show of wiping his forehead with his sleeve and sighing. "It's also not very nice. Sure, you can say the same for Vollachia…but in Kararagi, you'd get snatched up the moment you were out of sight. If it wasn't for my friends in the troupe…I'd rather not think about what that would have been like."
"You were in a circus?" Pausing a moment, he added, "No, that makes sense. It explains your sense of fashion…"
"Hey! I'll have you know this was once the finest low-cost troupe member attire in all Kararagi! We even got it at a nice discount."
"That just makes it sound even sleazier!"
"Not at all! It's called 'financial responsibility.'" Tiga looked as smug as ever as he said that. "Give me a bit of time and I'll be doubling Faradar's profits before you can say 'holy coin!'"
"Double of zero is still zero!"
"Well, true, but it sounds nicer! Besides…that just means I can't make things any worse!"
Twisted though it was, Subaru found it hard to argue with his friend's logic. Outmatched by Tiga's financial skills, he chose to switch to a slightly-heavier topic. "Tiga…who's Melty?"
The sudden question made Tiga halt, and Subaru almost lost his balance until his friend finally caught him. "You just keep asking, huh?" was Tiga's response. "You know if I tell you…it'll be even worse for both of us. Salum will make sure of it."
"I'll talk him out of it," Subaru promised, though he had no idea how he would do that, and secretly began to estimate how many deaths that ceramic-eating teen would give him.
"Seriously," Tiga said. "I'm warning you, buddy. I'd hate to lose a perfectly-good Stargazer to such a stupid thing…"
"I'll be fine. Foresight powers, remember?"
"Yeah, I guess." He looked around, and seeing they were in yet-another completely empty road, he quietly explained, "A few years ago, just after I got here…there was a festival to commemorate the harvest. Everyone gathered to play some games and sing and eat as much as they could stuff in their mouths. The elders were present for it, and they were helping out, talking to the lucky few who they liked enough. Even the Witch, Spiegel, was there.
"During one game…some people suddenly dropped dead. They stopped breathing all of a sudden. When everyone regained their senses, they pointed fingers to the Witch. They accused her of all sorts of things. For a moment, it was like they were going to start killing each other over it…until Melty stepped in. She was just a kid — even younger than us — and she said she was the one who did it. It was an accident. Her Evil Eye was out of control, and she had never used it before."
Tiga slumped as he finished speaking. "Everyone thinks she's dead. The elders might as well have killed her, then and there. Do you know who saved her?"
"Salum?"
"He tried. He really, really, did. I tried, too. But we were children, and the elders didn't care. It was Spiegel who saved her. She argued with the elders for hours, threatened violence…in the end, they settled for sending her away. Far enough that she could never hurt anyone again, but where she could be watched."
Subaru interrupted, "The shack."
"It wasn't exactly the nicest place they could find," Tiga elaborated. "Salum and I, we try to fix it up every once in a while. They say it was the residence of Faradar's previous ruler, an evil mage who dressed in six colors and made people disappear." He managed a weak smile as he added, "It's easy to see why they picked it."
The story explained quite a lot. Subaru had barely seen Melty, and under the circumstances of their meeting, he could hardly say he knew her, but after what he had heard…
"Something on your mind?" Tiga spoke up.
Subaru shook his head. "When this is all over…I'll get that girl to come back."
"Good luck with that! You'd have to get past the elders…"
Just as he said that, Tiga's voice trailed off. Subaru looked ahead, where the Center's ugly brick-like shape dominated the empty street. There was smoke coming out of the building's entrance.
A couple of people stood by the entrance, on the street outside. Subaru immediately recognized Palladio, thanks to his height, but the others took him a moment. The short woman beside Palladio was clearly his maid, the one that never left his side. In front of Palladio knelt Criff, recognizable with his too-yellow hair, looking defeated. Next to him, in front of the maid, sat Salum, relaxed, as if this was a daily occasion for him.
Near the door, where Subaru had seen him the last time he came to this horrible place, was Muscles. He was slumped against the building at an extremely disturbing angle, his head turned all the way around. A sharp bone jutted out from his neck.
"The Stargazer and his flea-ridden friend!" cried Palladio with perturbing joy. "We were just talking about you! Come on over, don't be so shy. We have things to talk about."
Tiga took a step back, then turned to Subaru with panic. "You didn't warn me about this!"
"I didn't expect it!" was Subaru's response.
The mint-haired boy squeezed Subaru's shoulder, gritting his teeth. "You're…one terrible Stargazer, you know? Help me get Salum out of there."
Subaru was immediately thinking of how he could do just that, and Palladio's voice rang out again, "Oh, were you two so immersed in conversation that you didn't hear me? I said: STEP CLOSER! I suggest you obey!"
Doing as instructed was the wisest move for now, and Subaru moved toward the twisted gathering, Tiga alongside him. He knew Palladio was a coward, afraid of him in particular. Maybe he could use that. Get him on the back foot. Buy time for Salum to…do anything.
"That's far enough," Palladio ordered when they were a good ten steps away. The prince looked at Tiga. "I never got your name, you know."
"It's Tiga—"
"I don't recall asking for it, either," he interrupted, raising a hand. "Now, as for you." He pointed to Subaru, who merely glared at him. "I've been having a nice discussion with your friend here, as you can see. He's a very agreeable fellow, very kind…but also very dishonest. I would like to know, boy, if you are dishonest as well."
Subaru let go of Tiga's shoulder, answering, "I'm not."
"Surprising!" Palladio remarked. "Tell me, how long have you been in Lamia Godwin's service?"
Thankfully, this was one of the things Criff had gone over with him as they first decided on their ruse. "Four years."
"Yes, that's right," the Augur clapped, turning to the kneeling Criff. "And that's what you said, too. Is it true, cupbearer?"
Criff opened his mouth, and the moment he uttered that damning "No," Subaru could swear his vision began to swim.
Palladio looked ecstatic. "Hm, it seems we have a contradiction here. Should I believe my good friend Criff, or that yapping dog I can't stand. What do you think, Lutka?"
"I think you are correct in describing yourself as 'yapping,' Esteemed Lord."
The prince pinched his nose. "Sharp as ever, but unhelpful. I guess that leaves me no choice. Tell me, Natsuki Subaru" — the name Subaru carried, one that brought him joy, sounded more like a slur in Palladio's voice — "are you a real Stargazer?"
"I am!"
"Of course you are. There's no other explanation for it. Which means that either the cupbearer is lying, or he got so fathomably lucky—"
"Unfathomably," Lutka corrected him.
"—unfathomably lucky that he made up a complete fabrication about rescuing my sister's pet Stargazer…only to have it be real," Palladio finished. With his hand outstretched, he turned his palm up, and Subaru saw that blinding light from the shack, coalescing into the hilt of that wretched crimson blade. The sight of it alone made Subaru's knees weak, and he trembled despite himself.
Palladio was still grinning.
"Tell me, you twisted spawn of the heavens," he commanded, "which is the truth, and which is the lie."
Subaru fought to maintain his composure, trying his best to put on a menacing look. "The second. I am a Stargazer."
Criff finally looked at him, and Subaru saw that the man had been crying, his eyes red and his expression pained. For a moment, Subaru believed that the man was truly and genuinely regretful of what he had done.
Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Criff was silenced by Palladio's crimson blade, which came down in the blink of an eye and lopped off Criff's head from his shoulders. Tiga screamed, and Subaru took a step back as his mouth fell open in horror. Criff's corpse, like Salum's in the shack, went up in flames, but his head remained intact, frozen with a pleading, tearful look.
"Oh, cupbearer," Palladio lamented, sounding almost…sad. "How I wish things had turned out any other way. Alas…now you can be with your mistress." Looking over at Subaru, he added, "Unfortunately for you, I have chosen to believe that you are telling the truth. That means your friend here lied to me. That means…you, Natsuki Subaru, are a threat to me."
Salum made a move, trying to stand, and the maid — Lutka — quickly kneed him in the head, dazing him and putting him down.
"It's almost a shame," Palladio continued, walking closer, stepping over Criff's still-burning corpse, over his pleading head. "I'm not one of fate's lackeys, but I do dislike meddling with those who are. This time, however, I must make an exception."
"I…I don't fear you," Subaru managed to say. "You're afraid of me…because you can't control me! Because you're just that cowardly! You fear everyone!"
Palladio snickered. "My, my…I hate perceptive brats like you."
"Do it!" Subaru dared him, putting as much confidence as he could into the statement. "Just try to kill me, like you did before! I'll make sure you lose…in this life or the next!"
Palladio drew his blade backwards, and proudly proclaimed, "Then I shall have to kill you, in this life and the next."
The blade swung, and it missed Subaru. He fell to his side, realizing what had happened just as Tiga, fell to the ground screaming in pain, engulfed in the white fire that had consumed Criff's body.
"How pathetic!" Palladio cried out. "You wasteful maggot. Let me give you what you wish for!"
He tried to raise his blade, clearly intent on stabbing it down on Tiga's chest, but a loud voice ripped through the street, "EL GOA!"
From where Salum lay on the ground came a massive jet of fire, concentrated into a lance of unimaginable power, that just barely missed Palladio…though not entirely. Palladio's entire right arm, the one holding that crimson blade, vanished from the shoulder down, and the prince let loose a pained howl that, in its own horrible way, gave Subaru much pleasure.
He looked over to Salum just in time to see him get grabbed by the head by Lutka, who mercilessly twisted his neck sideways until it faced the wrong way.
Salum dropped dead on the floor.
Subaru tried to scamper away, but Palladio chased him down, his crimson blade gone from his hand — from existence. His entire right side was on fire, and he furiously grasped his burning scarf before throwing it onto the dirt. There was a mad rage in his eyes that Subaru was sure would haunt him forever.
"YOU PUSTULE OF DISEASE!" the prince yelled, raising his left arm. "FATE WON'T SAVE YOU!"
Subaru raised his hand in a futile attempt at self-defense as the wind-blade that rippled from Palladio's hand cut straight through his ribcage, then his heart, then his spine, and finally claimed his life.
AN: Double digits! Give it up for double digits on the chapter count! Next milestone: quadruple digits. Just you wait!
I hope everyone's been enjoying the return...by death. Finally time to unveil it, and let's be honest, it's what most of us came here for. Who doesn't want to see a cocky time-bending child ruin some annoying prince's day? Well, he hasn't managed it yet, but third time's the charm! Or fourth time...or fifth...
And for the erudites who came for Vollachia instead, don't you worry. Faradar will be but the first stop in our journey.
I can't wait to show you where we're heading next.