IUNCTA IUVAT

CHAPTER 2:

…FOR FEAR OF LITTLE MEN

The village was run-down, and they didn't linger long, with Puck instructed to remain in hiding for now. Though they lingered long enough for Jill to get reprimanded by her parents. Harry sneered in contempt at Jill's father in particular, a drunkard who claimed to be a war veteran, but who treated Jill with contempt, attempting to beat her after she berated him for his drunkeness. Attempting being the operative word, as Harry grabbed his walking stick, and glared at him.

"We were soldiers ourselves," Harry had said. "You probably deserted when the cannons started firing. And you're a shit father. We're here to deal with your 'elf' problem. And as I'm sure none of you are willing to take us to Misty Valley, then we need your daughter, who agreed to help us."

"Why you…" the drunkard, whose name was Zepek, had sneered, only for Harry to fix him with a glare.

"Shut up. I can smell the booze on your breath each time you open your trap," Harry retorted. "Your daughter clearly didn't get her bravery from either parent." He had shot a look at Jill's mother, who at least had the decency to look away in shame.

Thankfully, a village elder came out to defuse the situation, and after it was explained, and Jill expressed some small willingness to be their guide, they were accepted. As they walked away from the village, Jill in tow, Harry heard a familiar voice in his head. You got pretty violent with him, didn't you?

Because he beat his own daughter for standing up to him, Harry replied. I was in a war, and I never became some drunkard who attacks his child for the crime of standing up to him. Post-traumatic stress disorder is no excuse for abuse, Schierke.

You're right, it's just this sort of thing attracts undue attention. This was the voice of Schierke, a witch studying under Flora. Schierke was only twelve, but she was a prodigy, an orphan taught by Flora. They were communicating by telepathy facilitated by the ring of Schierke's hair tied around their fingers. What do you think, though?

Casca's voice broke through. We need to ask Jill about Rosine first. If what the Skull Knight indicated is true…

Guts looked over his shoulder at Harry and Casca. "Hey, you two have been quiet for a while."

"We're communicating with Schierke," Casca said.

"Right, the witch you were with along with that Flora woman," Guts said. "Once we're done here, we need to talk more about that. You told me some stuff via the diary, but…"

"Wait, witch? You studied with a witch?" Jill asked.

"I'm a wizard," Harry said. "And Cas here has some knowledge of magic. Which reminds me, Guts, I'll need to draw a special sigil on your brand soon. It'll prevent it from summoning every nasty thing from all around."

Guts looked at him with a surprised look, before giving a soft smile. "Thanks. It'll be great to get some proper shut-eye at night for a change."

"I'm sure," Casca said, before she looked at Jill. "Jill, I need you to tell us about Rosine. She might be the key to this."

Jill looked pensive, before she began her story. "…Rosine was a few years older than me. She was a bit of a wild child who liked playing in the woods and streams, more like a boy would. She collected all sorts of stones and shells like a boy would. The weirdest one was an egg-shaped stone that had bits of a human face on it, all jumbled up."

On recognising the description, Guts, Casca, Harry and Puck exchanged looks, but Harry said, "Go on."

"We'd play for so long, we'd be there till dusk while losing track of time. We did that often, but I think, in hindsight, she wanted to avoid going home. You see, her parents often fought, and she was the reason. She'd have bruises on her face and arms at times. After those times, she'd speak to me of Peekaf."

"Peekaf?" Guts asked.

Casca chuckled sadly, struck by some rueful memory. "Red-Eyed Peekaf…I remember being told that tale when I was a little girl. Basically, there was a boy with red eyes and pointed ears called Peekaf in a village, long ago. His parents loved him, but he was bullied because of his looks. Peekaf felt that his parents were not his real parents, that he wasn't at his real home, because of his eyes and ears. So he snuck away to the forest alone to find the elves. And he did. Lo and behold, they had red eyes and pointed ears. But while he was overjoyed to see them, they told him that he wasn't one of them, for he had no wings. Peekaf was told by another elf that his parents brought him to the woods as a child to save him from dying. The elvish magic that cured him gave Peekaf his eyes and ears, you see. Peekaf, on learning this, rushed home…but despite being in the forest for mere moments, a century had passed, and everyone he knew and, in the case of his parents, cared about, had died."

"Not a particularly happy ending," Guts remarked.

"Rosine loved the story," Jill said. "But when she spoke to me of Peekaf, she claimed the real story was that Peekaf's true parents were elves, and they lived happily ever after. And Rosine said she was just like Peekaf, and one day, she would go home. She'd grin in a way when she said that like she was forcing herself to be happy."

"Because Rosine's parents were abusing her?" Harry asked.

"Her father did. I only heard about this later." Jill grimaced. "Our village got caught up in a big conflict during the war between Chuder and Midland, before I was born. Most of the villagers took refuge when the armies attacked, but not everyone was. Rosine's mother was…was…" Jill shuddered in fear and disgust. "She was raped. And Rosine grew up with her father doubting she was really his own. One rainy night…she left, though not before telling me she was heading to Misty Valley, heading to the elves. She left her treasures to me. The villagers searched for her, including her parents…but neither she nor her parents returned. And when I looked through her treasures…one thing was missing."

Guts sighed in resigned realisation, before he fished out a familiar-looking object. "Did it look like this?"

"Guts, where the hell did you get that thing?!" Casca demanded, her shock and anger matched by Harry's own.

"It used to belong to the Count, the one you saw get dragged into Hell, right?" Guts said. "I kept it afterwards, just in case there's a way to use it to get to Femto."

Jill's eyes widened. "…Yes, that's it! What is it? And…why are you so scared of it?"

"Any sane person would be if they knew what it was used for," Casca said in disgust. "That is a Behelit. A magic stone that allows you to summon the Godhand. Except, despite the name, they're really demons. In exchange for turning you into a demon yourself, you have to sacrifice someone you care about. Which means…I hope I'm wrong, I really do."

"What do you mean?"

"She means, Jill, that if we're right, and frankly, I wish we weren't, your friend offered up her parents in exchange for power." Guts looked down at Jill who had opened up her mouth to voice a denial, and cut her off sharply. "You think this is a fairy tale, Jill? Life is never so simple or kind. It's worse than even that Peekaf story. You've got some guts coming out with us, but there's no place for a girl who's running from a drunkard of a father and a wimp of a mother, and frankly, if it weren't for the fact that I know Harry and Casca can protect you so I don't have to worry about cutting loose, I'd call you a nuisance. As it is, you're a fool who doesn't know the difference between bravery and desperation. If you want to stay alive, stick close to those two, and stay the fuck out of my way." His face softened. "And just be warned…at the very least, sticking with us will mean you see stuff in your nightmares for years to come. Knowing all that, knowing your friend could be behind all this shit…you still want to come?"

As Jill looked down at the ground, morosely, Casca went over to Guts. "Guts, I get you wanting to ensure she's safe, but there's more tactful ways of doing it."

"I got the tact wrung out of me over the past couple of years. Not that I had much to begin with, as you well know." He shook his head. "Sorry, Casca. You've been safe and sound at that witch's place, while I've been going through this. I…I admit, I resented that a little, but I knew that if you were getting better, if you learned anything that could help us, it'd be worth it."

"…Just be a bit kinder to people, Guts," Harry said. "I mean, to those who don't deserve the usual brusque treatment. Jill wants to help us. She's seen the elves attack, she saw you in action, and yet…here she is. Yeah, I know a lot of it's desperation, but there's still some bravery there."

Guts nodded. "Right."

Harry walked over to Jill, and knelt down. "…Jill…if Rosine is the one we are searching for…we might need to kill her. I know you would find this hard to understand…but she may have become a monster. All three of us have fought monsters like her before. People who exchanged their loved ones to become monsters. We need to stop her, because those elves? They might be Pseudo-Apostles, Apostle spawned by the original…using other humans. That's where the kids might be ending up. And those killed by Apostles, or tainted by them, end up in the Abyss…well, pretty much Hell. That includes Apostles when they die."

"…You're lying…you have to be…but…if you're right…Rosine would…" Jill held up her hands to her mouth in horror. "I need to stop her! She can't go to Hell! Those children can't go to Hell!"

"She knew what she was doing, Jill!" Guts snapped.

"…Did she?" Casca asked quietly, drawing their attention. "Jill…how old was she when Rosine left? Not even a teenager…just a child." She looked up at Guts. "We may not exactly have had the most normal of childhoods ourselves, but I know for a fact that kids can be cruel without realising what they're doing is wrong."

Guts stared at her incredulously. "…You're kidding me. After all they did to us, to you, you're choosing to sympathise with her?"

Casca just glared at Guts. "…One thing we know is that a Behelit activates when its chosen is at their lowest ebb in their life. Griffith had his dream shattered. That Count witnessed his wife's betrayal. I think the four of us here had a moment where we could have used one. Like when I was nearly raped by that nobleman. Don't misunderstand me, any Apostle who did so, knowing the full consequences of their actions, deserves their fate. But Rosine was a child. Maybe she never grew up. I'm not saying we don't kill her at all. We probably will. But…the Skull Knight said something about Jill's friend either being redeemed or damned."

Guts spat into the grass. "Damned Bonehead…what does he know? Though that being said, he did say there was another Apostle coming our way. So, I guess we'd better get a move on…"

Serpico, bastard son of Federico de Vandimion III, had seen more than a few extraordinary things in his lifetime, many of which he wished he could unsee. Certainly, pursuing the Black Swordsman, known only by the name of Guts, and whom his half-sister Farnese was certain was the prophesized Hawk of Darkness, had meant seeing the horrific aftermath of what Guts caused. So many dead bodies, badly mutilated…it was enough to make him sick.

True, Serpico did think his half-sister was a touch obsessed with the disbanded Band of the Hawk, and two members of it in particular. Guts was the one they had pursued, true, but the one she seemed obsessed with was one Harry Potter. AKA the Warlock of the Hawk, as he was now known. And who had been declared dead by the King of Midland, oddly enough. Then again, so had Guts, and yet, he had proved otherwise, with sightings across Midland. Couldn't trust anything you heard these days, really.

Of course, he could understand why she was obsessed with Harry Potter. They had guarded the strange dome surrounding where the warlock had last been sighted, with Inquisitor Mozgus occasionally visiting with his entourage, and leaving instructions to notify him upon the warlock emerging from that strange dome. Potter had…and promptly schooled them, killing a number of them, and knocking out the rest. They had awoken to a disappointed (but thankfully not dangerously so) Mozgus, along with Azan, who had gone to get more supplies at the time.

In hindsight, Serpico knew that Potter had no intention of killing them if he didn't need to. He wanted to reunite with his lover, the then-leader of the Band of the Hawk, Casca. He warned them to stay away, and Serpico believed that, if they did, he would be of little threat to them. Unfortunately, Farnese held a grudge something fierce, and she intended to find Potter and make him pay. And Farnese was always a little too much into causing pain for others…and for herself. Came from the upbringing their shared father (not that she knew that, or should ever know that) gave them…or the lack thereof. God, Lord Federico was a bastard, in act if not in fact. Farnese was sweet when she wasn't being insane.

They were approaching a village when Serpico heard a voice from the rearguard. "Commander! We have someone approaching from the rear! It's…it's the Black Dog Knights!"

Serpico frowned, and exchanged an uneasy look with Azan. The old man might have an iron staff where the sun didn't shine, but he was a seasoned soldier and officer. Even Farnese seemed uneasy, and for good reason. The Black Dog Knights were the King of Midland's soldiers of last resort, comprised of criminals who were conscripted into a battalion who were sent to the nastiest, dirtiest warzones, and allowed to do what they wanted, as long as it harmed the enemy. They were infamous for excessive raping, looting and pillaging.

And then, a horse rode up alongside them, before slowing near Farnese. On that horse was a burly man, his brutal, almost entirely simian features framed by a pelt of a dog's head. There was something…inhuman about the man, Serpico knew, and this was not just his reputation for monstrousness. He knew of him by reputation if not by sight. This had to be Wyald, the leader of the Black Dog Knights.

"Hey there," Wyald said with a grin that Serpico supposed was meant to be charming, but came across as a lascivious leer. "You must be the little chickadee whose daddy was rich enough to put in charge of the Rich Kid Knights."

Azan scowled. "Show some respect for Commander Farnese!"

Wyald scoffed. "What? I didn't say anything untruthful. Anyway…I've heard a little whisper that you and I are after the same thing."

Farnese looked at him sharply. "I am not looking to drown myself in lust. Your reputation precedes you, Wyald."

"Ah, well, you've seen right through me, but that's just a day's work, rest and play for me." Wyald grinned. "But actually, I was thinking of something else. Or rather, someone. You see, we're after the same guy. The Black Swordsman, AKA Guts of the Band of the Hawk. Mighty suspicious that a guy like him would keep getting spotted, even though the Band of the Hawk got wiped out two years ago, along with that hot young princess. And yet, the King was sure that they had been, by bandits. But where were the reports? So, I made my case to the King…and it seems he may have been tricked by magic. So, he sent me out a few months back, ordering me to find any living member of the Band of the Hawk, especially Griffith, and bring them back for interrogation."

"We are trying to track down the Black Swordsman ourselves," Farnese declared imperiously. "We have been commissioned by the Holy See to find any surviving member of the Band of the Hawk and question them as to their whereabouts during the Eclipse."

Wyald looked at them, before chuckling darkly. "Oh, don't get me wrong, they're mostly dead. The cover story? It ain't so far from the truth. I heard things on the grapevine. Griffith's beyond that old fool of a King's reach now, and most of the Band of the Hawk are dead. But there's still a few living members here and there, so I've heard. Anyway, my point is…I think we should team up. The Black Swordsman is a formidable foe, after all."

"We do not team up with the likes of you!" Azan snapped. "To think brigands and rapists are given the title of 'knights'. Why, the very notion cheapens the idea of knighthood!"

"I wasn't talkin' to you, Bridge Knight," Wyald said. "I was talking to your commander."

After a moment, Farnese nodded, albeit reluctantly. "Very well. But know this, Wyald. Any members of the Band of the Hawk are to be taken into our custody. The authority of the Holy See supersedes that even of the King of Midland. No killing of civilians either, save for in self-defence."

Wyald seemed to pout. "You're no fun. You could stand to loosen up. Excitement and Enjoyment, that's my motto. You only have one life after all."

As he rode back to his troops, Azan hissed at Farnese. "You can't be serious!"

"Do not misunderstand me, Azan, I do not trust him one inch," Farnese hissed back. "But…if the Black Swordsman is as powerful as they claim, then the Black Dog Knights can act as cannon fodder. They are already unrepentant murderers and rapists led by a hedonist who is the embodiment of sin. Their deaths will serve two purposes, to tire the Black Swordsman out, and to remove their foul lives from the world."

"My, how ruthless you are, Commander," Serpico said lightly. He bore the resulting glare with ease. He was used to his half-sister's anger and annoyance. But he hoped that this wouldn't backfire…

CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:

Hoo boy, it will. But then again, it might lead to Farnese going through some much-needed character development earlier. I brought the Black Dog Knights and the Drafted Rich Kid Knights…sorry, the Holy Iron Chain Knights together to add some much needed conflict. I'm working on Rosine's heel-face turn, and I need something to cement that. Having an Apostle versus Apostle battle works, and if Farnese is around to see it, it'll start her own heel-face turn.

No numbered annotations this time.