Full moon
"What kind of Goddess allows the sort of thing?" Lyall spat, the ground inside his moghouse moistened by his outrage. "Everything Gui'cul was right, wasn't it?"
He had been drinking, the room stank of it. Loo, full belly, was lying in the bed, but Lyall couldn't keep his voice down.
"It was true, wasn't it? The Gods have abandoned all of us, haven't they? They've left us to our own devices..." Tears welled up in Lyall's eyes. "There's nothing left for us, is there? There's only what we make, there's only right now, right here..." The ground was wet by his tears, by his sorrow.
"There is nothing left, except hatred for the powers that left us, is that right...? There's only what the twisted Kuluu taught is, wresting power from the powers that Were, things that left us to die on our own, guideless!
"What about Alberic?! Why didn't Bahamut show him what lay in wait for him? Nothing left except sorrow... Nothing except regret, and solitude..."
Lyall's outrage manifested in a sphere, floating before his fireplace, white hot and more virulent than a newly-active volcano.
"There's nothing else, is there? Protecting ourselves from the void, living in spite of your Grand Design? I reject it all, and I bring life into the Lie. I hate you, I hate you the most of all things..." Lyall wept into his floor, knees bowed before the fireplace, hands limp and impotent. There was nothing else, nothing except living in spite of "Gods", in spite of the things that once granted life. Lyall felt abandoned by higher power, and nothing left except his love for his wife and wanting to keep his and his own as far from the void that is death as far as possible. There is no Heaven, no Goddess; They have long abandoned common Man and his wife. There is no Devout, no reason to believe. There is only surviving, and hating.
Life is hated, life is defiance, and Lyall had more than enough to survive, to defy. There was only fighting within him, only hatred, only spite. The cryptonberry had seen it, and the world would feel it. There was only surviving to spit in the eyes of the creator, only being more than the "Goddess" had ever seen possible.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Nemo (AoA)
When I sleep, I see things with my heart that can't be seen with eyes alone.
It's always been there with me--but it happens most when I am "one." Lately, because I haven't seen Ally in ages, it happens a lot, and I sleep all the time. I think it worries Mr. Beard. He went out and I laid down to sleep, and when I woke up he was back, but he was upset because he had been gone a long time and I slept the whole while. But I thought he would be happy because I don't need to eat when I'm sleeping so much--food is expensive in this country.
When I'm sleeping, I'm never alone--Al-chan is there with me. I call him Al-chan because he's funny. He and I look at the same things, and he usually explains what they mean. The things we see are those things that you can't see with your eyes; Al-chan says we see them with our heart, and it's our brains that make them appear in images so that we can understand them and interpret them.
Like, over and over I see five stars. Sometimes they're up in the sky, and they're like little pinpoints of light up against a big black sky. Sometimes they're hidden inside flowerbuds, and then the flowers bloom and the stars float out. Sometimes they're inside fruit hanging off a tree, and someone comes by and takes one of the fruits and eats it; then I can see a star in their belly, even though they don't seem aware of the light.
Al-chan is sometimes a meanie and doesn't explain things. He says they're too important. "What do YOU think it means, Ceecee?" he asks infuriatingly.
"I dunno, it's hard!" I complain.
"Try to think about it," he urges.
I consider it a while. "Well, the five stars are like--five people who have special power. That's what that light is."
He nods happily. "That's right. Five people have special powers that are preventing the Black Samurai from obtaining his goal."
"But what is that goal?"
"Why don't we think on it?"
We drift through dreams together again, he and I. I concentrate hard on the Black Samurai. I have to find him and find out what he's doing so I can protect everyone--Ally, Papa, Mr. Facebeard, everyone. Then, the Black Samurai appears. I dunno what he looks like outside of dreams, but in my dreams he has a dark aspect and is surrounded by shadows so that I can't make out his face well. Sometimes, I dream of him as an angel with white wings; then something goes wrong, and he plummets from Paradise, and his feathers turn black and peel off as he falls down.
"Ooh, ooh, I know what this one means, Al-chan!" I say excitedly. "He has an illness and he's dying. That's why he went all black."
Al-chan smiles at me. "Very good, Ceecee! And look at his face."
"He doesn't look angry or scared... he looks sad. I don't think he's trying to stop himself from falling at all...." I think on it a bit. "So, he wants to die?"
Al-chan nods. "It's also loneliness that made him sick."
One of the other things I dream about that man is him playing a game. I can't see who he's playing against but I can feel that his opponent hates him a lot. I can see two boys standing behind the players. Onii-chan is behind the Black Samurai, watching the board, and a blond-haired boy is behind the other person. This dream makes me feel scared. I think if one of the players falls, then person standing behind has to sit and play, and I can feel that only the person who wins will be alive at the end.
"But why, Al-chan? If he doesn't want to live, why is he playing to win...?"
"Because sometimes we want to win more than anything else. Some people love winning more than living."
The dream around us changes again. A huge gnole is bounding through a thick forest, chasing something ahead--it's a white hare that glows inside. He catches the bunny but stands over it protectively, growling at the dark forest all around. But then the hare hides in his tummy, and now the gnole is shining all white.
"What about this one, Ceecee?" Al-chan asks.
"Well.... the gnole feels kind of like Papa...." I squirm uncomfortably. "I don't like this dream."
"Why not?"
"Because Papa might be sad... I don't like it when he's sad."
"Don't worry, Ceecee," Al-chan reassures me. "Your Papa will be okay." He pauses. "You have a choice to make soon though, don't you?"
It feels like I turn around, and I see Ally and Mr. Facebeard standing side-by-side there, looking at me. They don't seem to see each other. I feel cold all over, especially in my tummy. "Yes," I whisper. "I have to choose which one, don't I?"
Al-chan puts his hand on my shoulder. "I'm not going to be able to see you anymore, Ceecee," he says softly, and I can see his hand is glowing.
"I'm gonna miss you, Al-chan," I say really softly, but he was already gone.
I'm scared to wake up. I wanna dream forever. They'll end up so sad, won't they--they might even hate me. What do I do....?
I don't want to choose.
It's always been there with me--but it happens most when I am "one." Lately, because I haven't seen Ally in ages, it happens a lot, and I sleep all the time. I think it worries Mr. Beard. He went out and I laid down to sleep, and when I woke up he was back, but he was upset because he had been gone a long time and I slept the whole while. But I thought he would be happy because I don't need to eat when I'm sleeping so much--food is expensive in this country.
When I'm sleeping, I'm never alone--Al-chan is there with me. I call him Al-chan because he's funny. He and I look at the same things, and he usually explains what they mean. The things we see are those things that you can't see with your eyes; Al-chan says we see them with our heart, and it's our brains that make them appear in images so that we can understand them and interpret them.
Like, over and over I see five stars. Sometimes they're up in the sky, and they're like little pinpoints of light up against a big black sky. Sometimes they're hidden inside flowerbuds, and then the flowers bloom and the stars float out. Sometimes they're inside fruit hanging off a tree, and someone comes by and takes one of the fruits and eats it; then I can see a star in their belly, even though they don't seem aware of the light.
Al-chan is sometimes a meanie and doesn't explain things. He says they're too important. "What do YOU think it means, Ceecee?" he asks infuriatingly.
"I dunno, it's hard!" I complain.
"Try to think about it," he urges.
I consider it a while. "Well, the five stars are like--five people who have special power. That's what that light is."
He nods happily. "That's right. Five people have special powers that are preventing the Black Samurai from obtaining his goal."
"But what is that goal?"
"Why don't we think on it?"
We drift through dreams together again, he and I. I concentrate hard on the Black Samurai. I have to find him and find out what he's doing so I can protect everyone--Ally, Papa, Mr. Facebeard, everyone. Then, the Black Samurai appears. I dunno what he looks like outside of dreams, but in my dreams he has a dark aspect and is surrounded by shadows so that I can't make out his face well. Sometimes, I dream of him as an angel with white wings; then something goes wrong, and he plummets from Paradise, and his feathers turn black and peel off as he falls down.
"Ooh, ooh, I know what this one means, Al-chan!" I say excitedly. "He has an illness and he's dying. That's why he went all black."
Al-chan smiles at me. "Very good, Ceecee! And look at his face."
"He doesn't look angry or scared... he looks sad. I don't think he's trying to stop himself from falling at all...." I think on it a bit. "So, he wants to die?"
Al-chan nods. "It's also loneliness that made him sick."
One of the other things I dream about that man is him playing a game. I can't see who he's playing against but I can feel that his opponent hates him a lot. I can see two boys standing behind the players. Onii-chan is behind the Black Samurai, watching the board, and a blond-haired boy is behind the other person. This dream makes me feel scared. I think if one of the players falls, then person standing behind has to sit and play, and I can feel that only the person who wins will be alive at the end.
"But why, Al-chan? If he doesn't want to live, why is he playing to win...?"
"Because sometimes we want to win more than anything else. Some people love winning more than living."
The dream around us changes again. A huge gnole is bounding through a thick forest, chasing something ahead--it's a white hare that glows inside. He catches the bunny but stands over it protectively, growling at the dark forest all around. But then the hare hides in his tummy, and now the gnole is shining all white.
"What about this one, Ceecee?" Al-chan asks.
"Well.... the gnole feels kind of like Papa...." I squirm uncomfortably. "I don't like this dream."
"Why not?"
"Because Papa might be sad... I don't like it when he's sad."
"Don't worry, Ceecee," Al-chan reassures me. "Your Papa will be okay." He pauses. "You have a choice to make soon though, don't you?"
It feels like I turn around, and I see Ally and Mr. Facebeard standing side-by-side there, looking at me. They don't seem to see each other. I feel cold all over, especially in my tummy. "Yes," I whisper. "I have to choose which one, don't I?"
Al-chan puts his hand on my shoulder. "I'm not going to be able to see you anymore, Ceecee," he says softly, and I can see his hand is glowing.
"I'm gonna miss you, Al-chan," I say really softly, but he was already gone.
I'm scared to wake up. I wanna dream forever. They'll end up so sad, won't they--they might even hate me. What do I do....?
I don't want to choose.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Snowfall
((*blows dust off the blog*))
-----
If you knew you only had one night to live in this world.... how would you spend it?
With whom would you die?
...
I would die alone.
-----
Snow whipped down from the sky, but he didn't feel it, despite being stripped to the waist and kneeling on the frozen ground. Gui'cul, a twisted golden-skinned Cryptonberry, laughed in his crude and dusty voice, and dug his clawed hand into Alberic's back.
"Does it hurt, child of Altana?" he hissed into Alberic's pointed ear, the Elvaan's sagging head putting him at eye-level with the deformed creature. Gui'cul twisted his claws into the thick black grooves of the intricate scars that marred Alberic's back, and Alberic gritted his teeth, the muscles in his arms trembling as they struggled to hold him upright. Blood and sticky white pus dripped down from the Cryptonberry's claws.
"Where are the gods, child of Altana? They are silent."
Lyall, also shirtless under the blizzard, surged forward, but even he did not dare lay a hand on the Cryptonberry. After all--they were here on the Glacier outside of dark Pso'Xja for his guidance. "Leave him alone!" Lyall shouted. "This isn't teaching him anything--it's just sadism!"
Gui'cul laughed again, the sound like a snake's belly slithering across cermet. "Is it, gnole-whelp?"
The Cryptonberry drifted away, impervious to the snow, his long greeny-gold robes trailing in the snow, and he raised his beaked maw to the steel-gray sky overhead. "You two children came to me, came to the remnants of a dying race, to learn dark secrets. You wished to reach for that primal power that enabled us to survive for ten thousand years. What was that power?"
Alberic lifted his head and spoke from between gritted teeth, his eyes grim. "Hate."
"That's right," Gui'cul hissed, looking over his shoulder at the pair. "The gods have abandoned Kuluu and Zilart alike. Lord Diabolos did not save anyone--and Lord Bahamut laughs at your agony, child of Altana." He whirled then, and his body arced with lightning as he channeled a powerful blast into Alberic's body; the Elvaan fell, howling and writhing, and Lyall again surged forward, but the torment was over as soon as it began.
"And the gods did nothing!" Gui'cul screeched triumphantly. "Let go of your vanity and useless pride--before the power that is hatred, we are all as nothing! We are mere conduits for the greatest power that all Vana'diel can produce--not cheap conjurers tricks, not abasement before uncaring gods, but the power that is hatred made by our will into arcane force!"
Alberic looked up, and tendrils of steam rose from his hands, resting against the snow-studded ground. Lyall, gripping his friend's shoulders, also looked over at Gui'cul, and rage emanated from him as if it was a physical force. Gui'cul smiled, the expression terrifying on his ancient face.
"You hate. This is good."
-----
I can't bear to see you with her. When I look at your happy faces, I feel empty inside. It makes me hate you both, even though you've been nothing but kind to me.
It's because I stole something like that for myself, and then I let it go before it could be taken away.
It's easier to just hate everything. It's easier to hate myself than try to feel anything else.
-----
As part of their training, Gui'cul made them give up what they had brought with them to Pso'Xja. Alberic piled what seemed like endless harps and flutes onto a stack of kindling, then his ornate silken cannions and seraweels, lush fabrics that he had earned for bardic performances from all over Vana'diel. Lyall, perhaps thankfully, had brought with him little, but had to reluctantly surrender a curved scimitar from the Empire. Together, the two reached out together to black magic to set the bonfire alight. Lyall's face was troubled as he watched the pile ignite; Alberic's was indifferent, even cold.
He took to wearing hooded cloaks with long sleeves and thick gloves, hiding every bit of his body as if to wrap himself, mummy-like, away from the entire world. Days would go by without the pair encountering anyone save Gui'cul, though Loo often made the perilous journey out to Pso'Xja to visit. Whenever she would do so, Alberic would retreat and allow the pair their time alone, and he would say little to anyone for some time afterward.
If time passed outside of that place, it seemed to do so without Alberic's involvement. Past, present, and future no longer mattered; the future had ceased to capture his attention. He specialized in ice and thunder magic, and Gui'cul set them to attacking his fellow Cryptonberries, blasting apart Summoner's elementals as he cackled at their side. "Summoners," he would say darkly, "are all weak. They pray impotently to the gods, and see with what they are rewarded--soulless shades by their sides that are so easily removed, and no real power among them! Anger, rage, hatred, passion, these alone are the source of true magic, not begging to higher beings!"
Lyall was more skilled at fire magic, and many nights it was only his skill at producing flame that gave them a warm place to sleep. Despite his seeming impatience with the process and his open distrust of Gui'cul, Lyall never wavered or left Alberic's side, and worked away at learning black magic just as diligently as the Elvaan. Together, they learned how to channel the tumultuous magics, how to twist time and space, how to fling themselves into the nether and back out again, and how to stand on the precipice of madness and wield what power lies there.
-----
I don't love you.
He took everything from me. I allowed him to take everything from me. I made him take everything from me.
I don't want to see the future anymore. I don't want to feel anything anymore, or think, just act.
I want to be able to fight, even if I don't know what for. I want to fight for a future where I die alone, because if I can't be with you then I don't want to be with anybody.
-----
If you knew you only had one night to live in this world.... how would you spend it?
With whom would you die?
...
I would die alone.
-----
Snow whipped down from the sky, but he didn't feel it, despite being stripped to the waist and kneeling on the frozen ground. Gui'cul, a twisted golden-skinned Cryptonberry, laughed in his crude and dusty voice, and dug his clawed hand into Alberic's back.
"Does it hurt, child of Altana?" he hissed into Alberic's pointed ear, the Elvaan's sagging head putting him at eye-level with the deformed creature. Gui'cul twisted his claws into the thick black grooves of the intricate scars that marred Alberic's back, and Alberic gritted his teeth, the muscles in his arms trembling as they struggled to hold him upright. Blood and sticky white pus dripped down from the Cryptonberry's claws.
"Where are the gods, child of Altana? They are silent."
Lyall, also shirtless under the blizzard, surged forward, but even he did not dare lay a hand on the Cryptonberry. After all--they were here on the Glacier outside of dark Pso'Xja for his guidance. "Leave him alone!" Lyall shouted. "This isn't teaching him anything--it's just sadism!"
Gui'cul laughed again, the sound like a snake's belly slithering across cermet. "Is it, gnole-whelp?"
The Cryptonberry drifted away, impervious to the snow, his long greeny-gold robes trailing in the snow, and he raised his beaked maw to the steel-gray sky overhead. "You two children came to me, came to the remnants of a dying race, to learn dark secrets. You wished to reach for that primal power that enabled us to survive for ten thousand years. What was that power?"
Alberic lifted his head and spoke from between gritted teeth, his eyes grim. "Hate."
"That's right," Gui'cul hissed, looking over his shoulder at the pair. "The gods have abandoned Kuluu and Zilart alike. Lord Diabolos did not save anyone--and Lord Bahamut laughs at your agony, child of Altana." He whirled then, and his body arced with lightning as he channeled a powerful blast into Alberic's body; the Elvaan fell, howling and writhing, and Lyall again surged forward, but the torment was over as soon as it began.
"And the gods did nothing!" Gui'cul screeched triumphantly. "Let go of your vanity and useless pride--before the power that is hatred, we are all as nothing! We are mere conduits for the greatest power that all Vana'diel can produce--not cheap conjurers tricks, not abasement before uncaring gods, but the power that is hatred made by our will into arcane force!"
Alberic looked up, and tendrils of steam rose from his hands, resting against the snow-studded ground. Lyall, gripping his friend's shoulders, also looked over at Gui'cul, and rage emanated from him as if it was a physical force. Gui'cul smiled, the expression terrifying on his ancient face.
"You hate. This is good."
-----
I can't bear to see you with her. When I look at your happy faces, I feel empty inside. It makes me hate you both, even though you've been nothing but kind to me.
It's because I stole something like that for myself, and then I let it go before it could be taken away.
It's easier to just hate everything. It's easier to hate myself than try to feel anything else.
-----
As part of their training, Gui'cul made them give up what they had brought with them to Pso'Xja. Alberic piled what seemed like endless harps and flutes onto a stack of kindling, then his ornate silken cannions and seraweels, lush fabrics that he had earned for bardic performances from all over Vana'diel. Lyall, perhaps thankfully, had brought with him little, but had to reluctantly surrender a curved scimitar from the Empire. Together, the two reached out together to black magic to set the bonfire alight. Lyall's face was troubled as he watched the pile ignite; Alberic's was indifferent, even cold.
He took to wearing hooded cloaks with long sleeves and thick gloves, hiding every bit of his body as if to wrap himself, mummy-like, away from the entire world. Days would go by without the pair encountering anyone save Gui'cul, though Loo often made the perilous journey out to Pso'Xja to visit. Whenever she would do so, Alberic would retreat and allow the pair their time alone, and he would say little to anyone for some time afterward.
If time passed outside of that place, it seemed to do so without Alberic's involvement. Past, present, and future no longer mattered; the future had ceased to capture his attention. He specialized in ice and thunder magic, and Gui'cul set them to attacking his fellow Cryptonberries, blasting apart Summoner's elementals as he cackled at their side. "Summoners," he would say darkly, "are all weak. They pray impotently to the gods, and see with what they are rewarded--soulless shades by their sides that are so easily removed, and no real power among them! Anger, rage, hatred, passion, these alone are the source of true magic, not begging to higher beings!"
Lyall was more skilled at fire magic, and many nights it was only his skill at producing flame that gave them a warm place to sleep. Despite his seeming impatience with the process and his open distrust of Gui'cul, Lyall never wavered or left Alberic's side, and worked away at learning black magic just as diligently as the Elvaan. Together, they learned how to channel the tumultuous magics, how to twist time and space, how to fling themselves into the nether and back out again, and how to stand on the precipice of madness and wield what power lies there.
-----
I don't love you.
He took everything from me. I allowed him to take everything from me. I made him take everything from me.
I don't want to see the future anymore. I don't want to feel anything anymore, or think, just act.
I want to be able to fight, even if I don't know what for. I want to fight for a future where I die alone, because if I can't be with you then I don't want to be with anybody.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Meetings (AoA)
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" came a voice from below Ranulfe's bunk, followed by a few arcane words and a soft whooshing sound. "You should warrrn people when you're going to do that!"
A wild haired Mithra appeared beside the bunk, wiping her face with one paw and holding a flaming dagger with the other.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't rrrip you a new...." The Mithra's words trailed off as she saw the Hume's face. Moving the dagger in closer she asked "What's your name, kid?"
Ranulfe blinked once or twice groggily, his expression shocked and still half asleep.
"I didn't... What're you...? My name's..." He gave pause, not sure if he should be revealing his identity. "My name's Warren. I'm sorry if I, uh, got you."
"Warrrren, huh?" The Mithra replied, looking directly into Ranulfe's eyes. "Sure, whatever." She shook her head and tossed a messy book on the bunk. "Fix it or rrreplace it. Your choice."
The Mithra turned to leave, "Next time, trrry to aim for this." She nudged the bucket hanging off the side of Ranulfe's bunk and walked away, the flames going out and leaving Ranulfe again in darkness.
A wild haired Mithra appeared beside the bunk, wiping her face with one paw and holding a flaming dagger with the other.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't rrrip you a new...." The Mithra's words trailed off as she saw the Hume's face. Moving the dagger in closer she asked "What's your name, kid?"
Ranulfe blinked once or twice groggily, his expression shocked and still half asleep.
"I didn't... What're you...? My name's..." He gave pause, not sure if he should be revealing his identity. "My name's Warren. I'm sorry if I, uh, got you."
"Warrrren, huh?" The Mithra replied, looking directly into Ranulfe's eyes. "Sure, whatever." She shook her head and tossed a messy book on the bunk. "Fix it or rrreplace it. Your choice."
The Mithra turned to leave, "Next time, trrry to aim for this." She nudged the bucket hanging off the side of Ranulfe's bunk and walked away, the flames going out and leaving Ranulfe again in darkness.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Pursuit (AoA)
Just like that his feet were back on the streets of the Empire, unceremoniously exited from the palace and from before the Empress. Naturally, there was pomp and a way of things; The begging of leave, the being guided away from everything, informed of this and that. Ranulfe wasn't really listening to any of it. He had greater things on his mind.
Standing amidst the lane of the Grand Palace Seikatsu, Kaede and Ranulfe stood.
"What should we do?" Seikatsu asked quietly. She was thrust into this rather suddenly.
"Mistress Kaede," Ranulfe intruded, partially stepping over Seikatsu's words. "I understand the instructions set before me but I think I can do a better job of searching should I strike out on my own."
The master ninja simply looked at him with a hard expression.
"You wish to disobey me? Why such insolence, Ranulfe? Have I been unkind? Unjust? Do you think I am wrong in my decision?"
"It is not that, Mistress, but merely that I think I would have more luck in finding the black samurai were I alone. We have-" He almost said that they had been sharing correspondence since his arrival in Norg, but something caused him to chomp back on his tongue. "We have too many among us, even as only three. By myself I pose no threat to him, and you, my lady, are of no small renown. I think he would be more inclined to meet with me."
"You speak as if you expect him to be nearby, Ranulfe. Is there something you are withholding?"
"Not at all, mistress. I just think this is a better way."
Kaede stared at him, seemed to probe him. "You have learned only a portion of what I can teach you, Ranulfe. I do not think, should you leave my side today, you will ever finish your lessons with me. Are you truly wishing to part from me, from my resources in Norg? Do you think this is best?"
Ranulfe didn't pause at her questions. "My lady, if I was only staying around for the resources and reputation, then I was lost from before I ever arrived in your city."
Kaede smiled.
***
Ranulfe took his time in exiting Aht Urghan. There was a boat regularly circling between their own dock and one in Mhaura. He was hoping that Kre'oss would be waiting or watching somewhere, that he would be seen alone and pulled aside, told of the plan, let in to the scheme. Kre'oss was labeled a criminal by the Empire, however, so there was no reason to expect him to stick around. In the short time Ranulfe had known the man, he seemed to be on the Right side. The Winning side. Kre'oss, to Ranulfe's mind, was the sort of person he had wanted to grow up to become. Strong. Capable. Willing to do the right thing no matter what, the sort of person who escaped the strong arm of the "law" and did the right thing no matter what.
Ranulfe dozed on the ship. He dreamt of darkness, rainclouds. He saw the Black Samurai. He was other people. He saw his father and sisters, very far away. They looked frightened, scared. Hurt. He saw Esh'nir. He was beside him. The Black Samurai drew his weapon in opposition, and-
Ranulfe awoke with a start. The boat lurched, the waves battered the side of the wooden vessel, and leaning out of his bunk the boy was seasick.
Standing amidst the lane of the Grand Palace Seikatsu, Kaede and Ranulfe stood.
"What should we do?" Seikatsu asked quietly. She was thrust into this rather suddenly.
"Mistress Kaede," Ranulfe intruded, partially stepping over Seikatsu's words. "I understand the instructions set before me but I think I can do a better job of searching should I strike out on my own."
The master ninja simply looked at him with a hard expression.
"You wish to disobey me? Why such insolence, Ranulfe? Have I been unkind? Unjust? Do you think I am wrong in my decision?"
"It is not that, Mistress, but merely that I think I would have more luck in finding the black samurai were I alone. We have-" He almost said that they had been sharing correspondence since his arrival in Norg, but something caused him to chomp back on his tongue. "We have too many among us, even as only three. By myself I pose no threat to him, and you, my lady, are of no small renown. I think he would be more inclined to meet with me."
"You speak as if you expect him to be nearby, Ranulfe. Is there something you are withholding?"
"Not at all, mistress. I just think this is a better way."
Kaede stared at him, seemed to probe him. "You have learned only a portion of what I can teach you, Ranulfe. I do not think, should you leave my side today, you will ever finish your lessons with me. Are you truly wishing to part from me, from my resources in Norg? Do you think this is best?"
Ranulfe didn't pause at her questions. "My lady, if I was only staying around for the resources and reputation, then I was lost from before I ever arrived in your city."
Kaede smiled.
***
Ranulfe took his time in exiting Aht Urghan. There was a boat regularly circling between their own dock and one in Mhaura. He was hoping that Kre'oss would be waiting or watching somewhere, that he would be seen alone and pulled aside, told of the plan, let in to the scheme. Kre'oss was labeled a criminal by the Empire, however, so there was no reason to expect him to stick around. In the short time Ranulfe had known the man, he seemed to be on the Right side. The Winning side. Kre'oss, to Ranulfe's mind, was the sort of person he had wanted to grow up to become. Strong. Capable. Willing to do the right thing no matter what, the sort of person who escaped the strong arm of the "law" and did the right thing no matter what.
Ranulfe dozed on the ship. He dreamt of darkness, rainclouds. He saw the Black Samurai. He was other people. He saw his father and sisters, very far away. They looked frightened, scared. Hurt. He saw Esh'nir. He was beside him. The Black Samurai drew his weapon in opposition, and-
Ranulfe awoke with a start. The boat lurched, the waves battered the side of the wooden vessel, and leaning out of his bunk the boy was seasick.
Monday, March 16, 2009
The King of Corsairs Tournament, part 2 (AoA)
Ranulfe found the first three days of the King of Corsairs Tournament to be highly enjoyable simply from a spectacle point of view. He and Kaede watched from a nearby pavilion as representatives of the Shadow Council, as all chaos seemed to break loose on the quay, all narrated with excited vim by Naja Salaheem, the president of the mercenary company facilitating the tournament. "Ohh, there goes another applicant!" she'd crow as some poor sucker took the full force of an exploding bomb behind his back and toppled off of the floating platforms into the ocean. "Looks like he couldn't handle the pressure of BCG excitement! Or was he just not quick-witted enough?!"
The first round, "Ultra Explosive BCG Elimination Excitement," turned out to be a rousing multi-player game of good old "Beetle, Crab, Ghost," with immense bombs looming behind each participant that blew up on the loser. Ranulfe quickly lost count of how many burnt and unconscious hopefuls got carted off by the mercenary Galkas, piled up in some nearby infirmary. He began to sincerely hope that the healers in this country could manage it all. Although this round took nearly all day, it did do a fine job of whittling down the contestants by nearly two-thirds.
"Look, Garath made it through, Master!" Ranulfe said excitedly to Kaede, pointing out Garath among the contestants left standing at the end of the day.
Kaede glanced over at him, smiling slightly. "And do you want Lord Garath to become King of the Corsairs, Ranulfe?"
He was a bit taken aback by the question, and paused, trying to consider the question not just from his 0wn perspective, but that as a student of Master Kaede's, a trainee in the art of ninjutsu. "He's not incapable," he said finally. "He seems to understand politics, he's quick-witted and glib, and he has a lot of determination and ambition. There's worse choices. And he seems willing to work with the Council."
Kaede's eyes turned back to the exhausted but triumphant group of competitors, Garath in their midst, weaving a bit on his feet. "You're not wrong. But now look at him as you might an enemy."
Ranulfe raised his eyebrows, stifling a moment of surprise, then looked over at Garath again, trying to see him with fresh eyes. The man was in his mid to upper twenties, with chin-length chestnut brown hair that curled at his chin and at the nape of his neck. He was garbed as a Corsair in the iconic leathers and bore their arms. Ranulfe didn't see him as particularly handsome; in fact, there was something almost homely about him at first glance, with an overly strong nose and small, squinty eyes already well-lined at the corners, and his mouth was broad and animated. Although he seemed tired, the way he weaved on his feet was practiced, combining exhaustion with sea legs, and the loose arms at his side suggested he was relaxed but also poised to snap the wide-barreled hexagun on his hip out of its holster at any moment. Ranulfe thought of Garath's complete confidence that he would win the tournament, contrasted with his flirtatious demeanor and surprising tenderness toward the Mithran lady that had raised him.
"He's dangerous," Ranulfe said finally. "I wouldn't entirely trust him."
Kaede's half-smile widened slowly. "Good," she said softly. "Learn to look at everyone that way. See with unblemished eyes their strengths and weaknesses, and be prepared to counter their blow should it ever come for your back."
Ranulfe shifted slightly, his elbows ducking back, rolling his shoulderblades. "You're saying not to trust anyone....?"
"Not necessarily. Just to never let your guard down. Death can come from the least expected of places."
The second day of the tournament dawned clear and slightly chilly. Ranulfe had never seen this particular "game of chance" before--and he was beginning to understand just how loose a term that could be. The hundred-odd competitors were paired off with a wide turtle-shell shield and a thick wooden Great Katana in between them. Then at the firing of Naja's gun, each pair flipped a coin, with the winner taking the weapon and the loser grabbing the shield. Then, using only those two weapons, the two had to fight until one fell off the platforms into the water. At least, such was the idea. Ranulfe noted quite a bit of surreptitious cheating, especially from the magic-users amongst the competitors, who often would hide under the shield and set their adversaries' shoes on fire. Garath got the shield, deflecting a shot at his head with the shield before kicking his opponent, a gangly Elvaan, in between the legs and body-checking him into the ocean.
Needless to say, that round didn't last long, and before noon they were on to the third round. Tables were brought onto the floating piers, each piled high with pies. "I hope everyone is hungry, because this challenge will test your endurance, stamina, persistence, bravery, and palate!" Naja called. "The test is--to find the single red bean hidden somewhere within the pies, while completely consuming each one, no purging allowed!"
Garath shot a dirty look from his position over to the platform where the Viceroy that designed this test, an immense Galka, rested. The Viceroy shrugged sheepishly in reply.
"Just pies?" Ranulfe muttered disgustedly, his stomach rumbling hungrily. "That doesn't seem too dangerous or exciting."
Kaede, however, was already chortling and rubbing her hands.
At the sound of the gun, the contestants dug in. It was pretty quickly apparent that the non-bean-containing pies weren't rolanberry or melon. Some were filled with living, wriggling worms, some with a mysterious green goo that Ranulfe devoutly hoped wasn't from slimes, some extremely rich custard, and other various inedibles. When a living baby scorpion popped out of one and stung a competitor in the nose, Ranulfe began to be glad that he hadn't had lunch yet, after all.
Garath, for his part, steadily ate through a badly burnt pie filled with raw pumpkin, seeds and all, then located the bean after the first bite of his second. "Lucky bastard," Kaede muttered, not entirely displeased.
More contestants managed to survive that challenge than expected, so the fourth challenge was ushered forward mid-afternoon without delay. Each competitor was violently spun around while blindfolded, then asked a series of bizarre questions. Ranulfe was stunned by how random they seemed to be--one competitor was asked to recite the alphabet backwards while skipping every third letter; one was asked the names of all seven Viceroys' ships in the order that they sailed into harbor; a third was asked to recite the emperors of the current dynasty from C.E. 500 on. If the competitor took too long to answer or got too many questions wrong, they were unceremoniously heaved over the side of the platform into the water. Garath's question was to listen to a certain amount of gil being dropped onto the quay and then list how much it was, and in what coin amounts. He was one of the few, however, to get his first question completely right and pass onto the next stage. Given that the previous challenge had been one involving food, the nausea of the spinning combined with the full stomach resulted in a few messy accidents that only compounded the difficulty of the task.
It was during this task that Ranulfe and Kaede were joined on the platform by Seikatsu. Ranulfe leapt up to offer her his seat, but she smiled and shook her head, taking the one next to him. "What brings you up here?" Kaede asked mildly.
"Each of the Viceroys that are actually participating has a proxy to speak for them while they're busy," Seik replied in her soft voice. "Or in case something happens to them." She stared out anxiously at the quay, wringing her hands in her lap. Ranulfe watched her. She reminded him of the hazy memories of his mother--they would be about the same age, with similar-colored hair, although he remembered his mother's having been short and darker.
The fifth challenge unfolded under a twilight sky. "This one has to be the one Garath designed," Ranulfe predicted confidently to Kaede. "It even involves dice."
"No," Seik said unexpectedly. "His hasn't appeared yet."
Only ten contestants were left by this point. All seemed strong, though there were several that truly stood out; Garath with his charisma remained the only Corsair, most having been sunk by the pies. Naja set them in pairs around several large tables; on each table was a circle with a pair of dice, a single hexagun, a deck of cards, a Pyumomo doll, and a large Imperial gold piece that glinted under the lights. "The challenge is: using only what lies before you, place a hole in the center of the coin!" Naja instructed them.
Garath's partner was a Mithran pirate, though whether aligned with Norg or freelance it was difficult to say. "But it's so simple!" she cried when the signal to start sounded, and she grabbed for the gun possessively. "Give me the coin, Corrrrrsair!"
Garath had scooped up the dice. "Now now, miss, we don't want things to get unpleasant," he drawled. "We both know that gun is unloaded, so don't tell me you're planning on shooting me." He rolled the dice around his palm for a moment, then across each finger, a sly smile never budging from his face.
The Mithra's brow knitted into a firm scowl, then her eyes lowered to the cards. "How about we play for it?" she said.
"Certainly, madam," Garath said courteously.
"No trrrricks! We'll both draw from the top, and high card gets the coin."
"Alright."
The Mithra took a card, and so did Garath. But he didn't look at the card, instead fitting it carefully in between his fingers and digging the edge into his palm. She bristled. "What are you doing?!"
"What if these cards are marked? The dice were weighted, after all--" He tossed the dice onto the table, and one cracked open at the impact, pieces scattering across the table. "--and the coin, I'm sure, is double-sided."
The Mithra's eyes darted to the coin, and in that instant Garath's hand snapped out, and he wrenched the gun away, snapping it open and slipping a single bullet into the gun. The Mithra yowled and grabbed for the coin, but Garath simply forced her arm up, the coin slipping from their grasp and flying into the air. Garath raised the hexagun and fired, the sound of the bullet striking the coin loud in the hushed dock.
"It was simple really," Garath told Kaede later as he massaged his stomach with a wince. "Everything on that table had some sort of purpose. The dice had a bullet hidden inside one of them--a small bronze bullet that could be easily hidden, but probably wouldn't kill fired from that old thing. One of the dice had a small crack in it--just small enough for a card to get forced inside so you could crack it open."
"And the doll?" Ranulfe asked curiously.
Garath chuckled. "I suspect it had either another coin or another bullet hidden inside of it somewhere, but I didn't think it'd help my reputation as a womanizer if I went feeling up the doll while chatting up that lady about the weather."
The crowds on the third day were even greater, since the last two challenges were guaranteed to occur that day, with the winner crowned at sundown. It was rumored the Empress herself was in attendance, although at a secret location to avoid the press of the crowds. With only three contestants left, a great deal of wagers were being taken, with sizeable amounts of Imperial currency changing hands under the watchful eyes of Salaheem's Sentinels. The odds were favoring Garath so far since he was the first to solve the dice puzzle, although an Elvaan man that had pulled a nail from the table to pound through the coin was a close second, and a Hume that had used the hammer of the gun's firing mechanism to puncture the coin was also showing strongly. The other groups had been unable to find another method of producing a hole in the coin and were disqualified.
A hush fell over the crowd as the three were led, blindfolded, onto three of the floating platforms. On each platform was erected a set of three doorways, one set of three doors for each of the contestants. Two of the doors led straight out into the water; one led to a plank leading up to one of the flagships, the location of the Final Challenge.
"The challenge is simple!" Naja announced to the crowd, her tail bristling with excitement. "Each contestant will choose a door--marked 1, 2, or 3. If the way is open to them, then they will be free to continue on. But if not.... they are eliminated! It's simple, isn't it? A one-in-three shot... a one-in-three chance for glory!"
The three contestants, positioned on the closed side of the doors, had their blindfolds removed. "Choose your door but do not open it!" Naja instructed each of them sternly.
The Elvaan hesitated, then pointed to the center door. "I pick--Door 2."
Garath pointed to the left door. "I choose Door 1."
The Hume raised his hand steadily and pointed without saying a word at the center door, his other hooked on the pommel of his weapon.
Naja stalked among them then. She suddenly paused by the Elvaan man's set of three doors and flung open Door 3. He flinched back as he saw the door open out onto empty water. "Still so certain of your chances, Dhalmel-boy?" Naja taunted him. "I'll give you this one chance--stick with the choice you've got, or switch to Door 1?"
The Elvaan's eyes darted, panicked, a cool breeze from the water blowing in from the open door. "Y... Y-yes, I'll switch to Door 1."
"Go ahead then," Naja told him with a smirk. "Take your destiny."
The Elvaan strode over to Door 1 and opened it quickly, stepping out--only to fall face-first into the water.
The crowd gasped and cheered, unsure of how to react. "Was it the right choice, Master?" Ranulfe murmured to Kaede. "I mean, it's only a one-in-three chance of it being right still, even if we know one of them is wrong."
Naja crossed over to the Hume's platform, this time opening Door 1 to reveal the water. He seemed unphased by it, simply tersely answering to Naja's jibes that he didn't want to switch, and when he opened the door he walked up the plank toward the Final Challenge. The crowd applauded him heartily, those that made wagers a little harder than most. Ranulfe leaned forward, trying to get a better look at the man--something about him seemed familiar. Then, when the man turned from the deck of the flagship back toward the crowd, Ranulfe stiffened, watching the wind toss the man's black hair, revealing the eyepatch. It was the one-eyed Samurai--the man that had saved him on the boat.
Now it was Garath's turn. "Surely it can't be the center door all three times...." Kaede whispered, gnawing on a knuckle uncharacteristically. Like the Samurai, Garath refused the switch, and when he reached out for the door, his head was back, his eyes closed. Almost like a man preparing himself for destiny, Ranulfe thought, watching Garath's tricorne topple back off of his head, the wind in his brown hair, the serene expression on his face.
But when the door opened, it was the Samurai on the other side of it.
Garath's eyes flashed open, and for a single moment, the two men faced each other. Then, the Samurai said something--Ranulfe couldn't hear what. Garath had only a moment to tense, then the Samurai drew his Great Katana in a single motion and struck at Garath with full force. Garath ducked, but not enough; blood flew, and the crowd surged to its feet, roaring like a breaking wave. "Treachery! Treachery!"
Garath was shooting at the Samurai, who leapt backward up onto the top of the doorways; Ranulfe started to the end of the platform, along with the mercenaries, but Kaede raised a hand. "Do not interfere!" she cried in a great voice.
"What?!" Ranulfe demanded, and Naja Salaheem looked as shocked as he. "Why?!"
Kaede's eyes pitilessly took in the two men fighting on the platform, and then she looked away. "Let them settle it," she ordered Naja. "We do not interfere. This was Garath's task."
"What!" Naja exclaimed, whirling. "But if it's to come to a fight--"
Seik, however, was ignoring all of them, running full-bore to the very edge of the quay. "Garath!!" she screamed, coming to a halt at the edge of the water separating the quay from the floating platforms. "Kre'oss!!! It is Kre'oss, isn't it?! Stop this!! Why are you attacking my son?!"
Garath whirled, noticing Seik for the first time, and it was the opening the Samurai needed. He wrapped a pale arm around Garath's wounded shoulder, blood staining the frosted steel of his Great Katana, and with his other arm opened a Warp scroll. A black and purple portal opened, and he hauled Garath bodily through it, his single empty black eye fixed on Seik as he and Garath vanished in thin air.
Chaos erupted on the quay, the crowd confused and the mercenaries unable to restore order. But almost as if they were expecting violence to erupt somehow, the Imperial guard swarmed in from the Citizen's Quarter, forcing the onlookers to disperse. Ranulfe, stunned still by the unexpected scene he'd witnessed, found himself face-to-face with three Immortals. "Come with us, Lady Kaede," their leader, masked by his keffiyeh, ordered them. "Bring your apprentice with you. Your presence has been ordered in the Imperial Palace."
The Palace? Things were happening too quickly for Ranulfe to digest. In mere moments it seemed, he and Kaede were kneeling before a heavily curtained dais in the Imperial Palace, along with Seik. A woman's genteel voice, only slightly accented with the lilt of the Near East, floated over to them from behind the curtain. "You have our permission to rise, Lady Kaede, Lady Seikatsu, Lady Kaede's apprentice."
They did so, uneasily, Ranulfe trying not to stare at the Immortals ringing the room. "Your Imperial Majesty--" Kaede began. "Surely you do not think we planned this unfortunate abduction."
"Surely you did not stop our trusted mercenaries from intervening in the act?" The Empress's voice was quite stern. "Was that man not one of your compatriots? We fail to understand your rationale. This unseemly disruption of the tournament we were overseeing and guaranteeing casts a deep shadow on our reputation, and we are displeased that you prevented our mercenaries from restoring order."
Kaede flinched, her usually calm facade straining under the Empress's censure. "It is not our way, your Majesty. Lord Garath was on the Council, representing Ephramad, but it was as a private citizen that he entered the tournament--"
"Lady Seikatsu, Lord Garath is your son, correct?"
Seik bowed her head deeply. "Not exactly, your Majesty, but I have raised him from boyhood and consider him as my own son...."
There was a pause. "We understand your feelings," the Empress said at length. "Lord Garath was conducting himself well in the tournament. That this tournament has been befouled, along with our reputation, by such a heinous kidnapping and such wanton violence is unseemly in our eyes. We must take immediate steps to rescue Lord Garath."
"We cannot intervene directly, Divine One," the Grand Vizier, in his customary position before the throne, reminded her.
"This we well understand, Grand Vizier. Lady Seikatsu, you seemed to recognize the perpetrator?"
"An old friend, your Majesty..." Seik couldn't quite keep the worry from her voice. "Although he was very different...."
"We may not be directly involved in the righting of this injustice, but we may impose this duty upon Lady Kaede for her failure to keep order on our territory." Kaede started to protest, but the Grand Vizier sternly stared her into silence. "This we command," the Empress said. "The Lady Kaede's apprentice and the Lady Seik will discover the location of this Samurai in black. The Lady Kaede will return to Norg and set the full resources of her people to this task as well. She will then rescue Lord Garath if possible, and if not, avenge him. The King of Corsairs Tournament will be postponed until these events have taken place, after which time we shall make suitable arrangements for it to be finished so that stable leadership might be found for Ephramad despite today's tragedy."
"So it is ordered," decreed the Grand Vizier. "Do you submit to these commands, Lady Kaede?"
Kaede bowed her head, gritting her teeth. "It seems I have no choice. Ranulfe--" She glanced at him. "You'll go with Seik and help her find this Samurai. Contact me when you've found him."
"It will be a dangerous journey alone," the Empress said. "We shall appoint one of our trusted mercenaries to join you on the road, to redeem the honor lost today by Salaheem's Sentinels."
Ranulfe was ushered out of the Palace along with Seik and Kaede, his head still spinning. All of a sudden, an important task had fallen to him, with a man's life in the balance. And best of all, he had no idea where to start looking--and neither did Seik, from the blank look in her eyes.
The first round, "Ultra Explosive BCG Elimination Excitement," turned out to be a rousing multi-player game of good old "Beetle, Crab, Ghost," with immense bombs looming behind each participant that blew up on the loser. Ranulfe quickly lost count of how many burnt and unconscious hopefuls got carted off by the mercenary Galkas, piled up in some nearby infirmary. He began to sincerely hope that the healers in this country could manage it all. Although this round took nearly all day, it did do a fine job of whittling down the contestants by nearly two-thirds.
"Look, Garath made it through, Master!" Ranulfe said excitedly to Kaede, pointing out Garath among the contestants left standing at the end of the day.
Kaede glanced over at him, smiling slightly. "And do you want Lord Garath to become King of the Corsairs, Ranulfe?"
He was a bit taken aback by the question, and paused, trying to consider the question not just from his 0wn perspective, but that as a student of Master Kaede's, a trainee in the art of ninjutsu. "He's not incapable," he said finally. "He seems to understand politics, he's quick-witted and glib, and he has a lot of determination and ambition. There's worse choices. And he seems willing to work with the Council."
Kaede's eyes turned back to the exhausted but triumphant group of competitors, Garath in their midst, weaving a bit on his feet. "You're not wrong. But now look at him as you might an enemy."
Ranulfe raised his eyebrows, stifling a moment of surprise, then looked over at Garath again, trying to see him with fresh eyes. The man was in his mid to upper twenties, with chin-length chestnut brown hair that curled at his chin and at the nape of his neck. He was garbed as a Corsair in the iconic leathers and bore their arms. Ranulfe didn't see him as particularly handsome; in fact, there was something almost homely about him at first glance, with an overly strong nose and small, squinty eyes already well-lined at the corners, and his mouth was broad and animated. Although he seemed tired, the way he weaved on his feet was practiced, combining exhaustion with sea legs, and the loose arms at his side suggested he was relaxed but also poised to snap the wide-barreled hexagun on his hip out of its holster at any moment. Ranulfe thought of Garath's complete confidence that he would win the tournament, contrasted with his flirtatious demeanor and surprising tenderness toward the Mithran lady that had raised him.
"He's dangerous," Ranulfe said finally. "I wouldn't entirely trust him."
Kaede's half-smile widened slowly. "Good," she said softly. "Learn to look at everyone that way. See with unblemished eyes their strengths and weaknesses, and be prepared to counter their blow should it ever come for your back."
Ranulfe shifted slightly, his elbows ducking back, rolling his shoulderblades. "You're saying not to trust anyone....?"
"Not necessarily. Just to never let your guard down. Death can come from the least expected of places."
The second day of the tournament dawned clear and slightly chilly. Ranulfe had never seen this particular "game of chance" before--and he was beginning to understand just how loose a term that could be. The hundred-odd competitors were paired off with a wide turtle-shell shield and a thick wooden Great Katana in between them. Then at the firing of Naja's gun, each pair flipped a coin, with the winner taking the weapon and the loser grabbing the shield. Then, using only those two weapons, the two had to fight until one fell off the platforms into the water. At least, such was the idea. Ranulfe noted quite a bit of surreptitious cheating, especially from the magic-users amongst the competitors, who often would hide under the shield and set their adversaries' shoes on fire. Garath got the shield, deflecting a shot at his head with the shield before kicking his opponent, a gangly Elvaan, in between the legs and body-checking him into the ocean.
Needless to say, that round didn't last long, and before noon they were on to the third round. Tables were brought onto the floating piers, each piled high with pies. "I hope everyone is hungry, because this challenge will test your endurance, stamina, persistence, bravery, and palate!" Naja called. "The test is--to find the single red bean hidden somewhere within the pies, while completely consuming each one, no purging allowed!"
Garath shot a dirty look from his position over to the platform where the Viceroy that designed this test, an immense Galka, rested. The Viceroy shrugged sheepishly in reply.
"Just pies?" Ranulfe muttered disgustedly, his stomach rumbling hungrily. "That doesn't seem too dangerous or exciting."
Kaede, however, was already chortling and rubbing her hands.
At the sound of the gun, the contestants dug in. It was pretty quickly apparent that the non-bean-containing pies weren't rolanberry or melon. Some were filled with living, wriggling worms, some with a mysterious green goo that Ranulfe devoutly hoped wasn't from slimes, some extremely rich custard, and other various inedibles. When a living baby scorpion popped out of one and stung a competitor in the nose, Ranulfe began to be glad that he hadn't had lunch yet, after all.
Garath, for his part, steadily ate through a badly burnt pie filled with raw pumpkin, seeds and all, then located the bean after the first bite of his second. "Lucky bastard," Kaede muttered, not entirely displeased.
More contestants managed to survive that challenge than expected, so the fourth challenge was ushered forward mid-afternoon without delay. Each competitor was violently spun around while blindfolded, then asked a series of bizarre questions. Ranulfe was stunned by how random they seemed to be--one competitor was asked to recite the alphabet backwards while skipping every third letter; one was asked the names of all seven Viceroys' ships in the order that they sailed into harbor; a third was asked to recite the emperors of the current dynasty from C.E. 500 on. If the competitor took too long to answer or got too many questions wrong, they were unceremoniously heaved over the side of the platform into the water. Garath's question was to listen to a certain amount of gil being dropped onto the quay and then list how much it was, and in what coin amounts. He was one of the few, however, to get his first question completely right and pass onto the next stage. Given that the previous challenge had been one involving food, the nausea of the spinning combined with the full stomach resulted in a few messy accidents that only compounded the difficulty of the task.
It was during this task that Ranulfe and Kaede were joined on the platform by Seikatsu. Ranulfe leapt up to offer her his seat, but she smiled and shook her head, taking the one next to him. "What brings you up here?" Kaede asked mildly.
"Each of the Viceroys that are actually participating has a proxy to speak for them while they're busy," Seik replied in her soft voice. "Or in case something happens to them." She stared out anxiously at the quay, wringing her hands in her lap. Ranulfe watched her. She reminded him of the hazy memories of his mother--they would be about the same age, with similar-colored hair, although he remembered his mother's having been short and darker.
The fifth challenge unfolded under a twilight sky. "This one has to be the one Garath designed," Ranulfe predicted confidently to Kaede. "It even involves dice."
"No," Seik said unexpectedly. "His hasn't appeared yet."
Only ten contestants were left by this point. All seemed strong, though there were several that truly stood out; Garath with his charisma remained the only Corsair, most having been sunk by the pies. Naja set them in pairs around several large tables; on each table was a circle with a pair of dice, a single hexagun, a deck of cards, a Pyumomo doll, and a large Imperial gold piece that glinted under the lights. "The challenge is: using only what lies before you, place a hole in the center of the coin!" Naja instructed them.
Garath's partner was a Mithran pirate, though whether aligned with Norg or freelance it was difficult to say. "But it's so simple!" she cried when the signal to start sounded, and she grabbed for the gun possessively. "Give me the coin, Corrrrrsair!"
Garath had scooped up the dice. "Now now, miss, we don't want things to get unpleasant," he drawled. "We both know that gun is unloaded, so don't tell me you're planning on shooting me." He rolled the dice around his palm for a moment, then across each finger, a sly smile never budging from his face.
The Mithra's brow knitted into a firm scowl, then her eyes lowered to the cards. "How about we play for it?" she said.
"Certainly, madam," Garath said courteously.
"No trrrricks! We'll both draw from the top, and high card gets the coin."
"Alright."
The Mithra took a card, and so did Garath. But he didn't look at the card, instead fitting it carefully in between his fingers and digging the edge into his palm. She bristled. "What are you doing?!"
"What if these cards are marked? The dice were weighted, after all--" He tossed the dice onto the table, and one cracked open at the impact, pieces scattering across the table. "--and the coin, I'm sure, is double-sided."
The Mithra's eyes darted to the coin, and in that instant Garath's hand snapped out, and he wrenched the gun away, snapping it open and slipping a single bullet into the gun. The Mithra yowled and grabbed for the coin, but Garath simply forced her arm up, the coin slipping from their grasp and flying into the air. Garath raised the hexagun and fired, the sound of the bullet striking the coin loud in the hushed dock.
"It was simple really," Garath told Kaede later as he massaged his stomach with a wince. "Everything on that table had some sort of purpose. The dice had a bullet hidden inside one of them--a small bronze bullet that could be easily hidden, but probably wouldn't kill fired from that old thing. One of the dice had a small crack in it--just small enough for a card to get forced inside so you could crack it open."
"And the doll?" Ranulfe asked curiously.
Garath chuckled. "I suspect it had either another coin or another bullet hidden inside of it somewhere, but I didn't think it'd help my reputation as a womanizer if I went feeling up the doll while chatting up that lady about the weather."
The crowds on the third day were even greater, since the last two challenges were guaranteed to occur that day, with the winner crowned at sundown. It was rumored the Empress herself was in attendance, although at a secret location to avoid the press of the crowds. With only three contestants left, a great deal of wagers were being taken, with sizeable amounts of Imperial currency changing hands under the watchful eyes of Salaheem's Sentinels. The odds were favoring Garath so far since he was the first to solve the dice puzzle, although an Elvaan man that had pulled a nail from the table to pound through the coin was a close second, and a Hume that had used the hammer of the gun's firing mechanism to puncture the coin was also showing strongly. The other groups had been unable to find another method of producing a hole in the coin and were disqualified.
A hush fell over the crowd as the three were led, blindfolded, onto three of the floating platforms. On each platform was erected a set of three doorways, one set of three doors for each of the contestants. Two of the doors led straight out into the water; one led to a plank leading up to one of the flagships, the location of the Final Challenge.
"The challenge is simple!" Naja announced to the crowd, her tail bristling with excitement. "Each contestant will choose a door--marked 1, 2, or 3. If the way is open to them, then they will be free to continue on. But if not.... they are eliminated! It's simple, isn't it? A one-in-three shot... a one-in-three chance for glory!"
The three contestants, positioned on the closed side of the doors, had their blindfolds removed. "Choose your door but do not open it!" Naja instructed each of them sternly.
The Elvaan hesitated, then pointed to the center door. "I pick--Door 2."
Garath pointed to the left door. "I choose Door 1."
The Hume raised his hand steadily and pointed without saying a word at the center door, his other hooked on the pommel of his weapon.
Naja stalked among them then. She suddenly paused by the Elvaan man's set of three doors and flung open Door 3. He flinched back as he saw the door open out onto empty water. "Still so certain of your chances, Dhalmel-boy?" Naja taunted him. "I'll give you this one chance--stick with the choice you've got, or switch to Door 1?"
The Elvaan's eyes darted, panicked, a cool breeze from the water blowing in from the open door. "Y... Y-yes, I'll switch to Door 1."
"Go ahead then," Naja told him with a smirk. "Take your destiny."
The Elvaan strode over to Door 1 and opened it quickly, stepping out--only to fall face-first into the water.
The crowd gasped and cheered, unsure of how to react. "Was it the right choice, Master?" Ranulfe murmured to Kaede. "I mean, it's only a one-in-three chance of it being right still, even if we know one of them is wrong."
Naja crossed over to the Hume's platform, this time opening Door 1 to reveal the water. He seemed unphased by it, simply tersely answering to Naja's jibes that he didn't want to switch, and when he opened the door he walked up the plank toward the Final Challenge. The crowd applauded him heartily, those that made wagers a little harder than most. Ranulfe leaned forward, trying to get a better look at the man--something about him seemed familiar. Then, when the man turned from the deck of the flagship back toward the crowd, Ranulfe stiffened, watching the wind toss the man's black hair, revealing the eyepatch. It was the one-eyed Samurai--the man that had saved him on the boat.
Now it was Garath's turn. "Surely it can't be the center door all three times...." Kaede whispered, gnawing on a knuckle uncharacteristically. Like the Samurai, Garath refused the switch, and when he reached out for the door, his head was back, his eyes closed. Almost like a man preparing himself for destiny, Ranulfe thought, watching Garath's tricorne topple back off of his head, the wind in his brown hair, the serene expression on his face.
But when the door opened, it was the Samurai on the other side of it.
Garath's eyes flashed open, and for a single moment, the two men faced each other. Then, the Samurai said something--Ranulfe couldn't hear what. Garath had only a moment to tense, then the Samurai drew his Great Katana in a single motion and struck at Garath with full force. Garath ducked, but not enough; blood flew, and the crowd surged to its feet, roaring like a breaking wave. "Treachery! Treachery!"
Garath was shooting at the Samurai, who leapt backward up onto the top of the doorways; Ranulfe started to the end of the platform, along with the mercenaries, but Kaede raised a hand. "Do not interfere!" she cried in a great voice.
"What?!" Ranulfe demanded, and Naja Salaheem looked as shocked as he. "Why?!"
Kaede's eyes pitilessly took in the two men fighting on the platform, and then she looked away. "Let them settle it," she ordered Naja. "We do not interfere. This was Garath's task."
"What!" Naja exclaimed, whirling. "But if it's to come to a fight--"
Seik, however, was ignoring all of them, running full-bore to the very edge of the quay. "Garath!!" she screamed, coming to a halt at the edge of the water separating the quay from the floating platforms. "Kre'oss!!! It is Kre'oss, isn't it?! Stop this!! Why are you attacking my son?!"
Garath whirled, noticing Seik for the first time, and it was the opening the Samurai needed. He wrapped a pale arm around Garath's wounded shoulder, blood staining the frosted steel of his Great Katana, and with his other arm opened a Warp scroll. A black and purple portal opened, and he hauled Garath bodily through it, his single empty black eye fixed on Seik as he and Garath vanished in thin air.
Chaos erupted on the quay, the crowd confused and the mercenaries unable to restore order. But almost as if they were expecting violence to erupt somehow, the Imperial guard swarmed in from the Citizen's Quarter, forcing the onlookers to disperse. Ranulfe, stunned still by the unexpected scene he'd witnessed, found himself face-to-face with three Immortals. "Come with us, Lady Kaede," their leader, masked by his keffiyeh, ordered them. "Bring your apprentice with you. Your presence has been ordered in the Imperial Palace."
The Palace? Things were happening too quickly for Ranulfe to digest. In mere moments it seemed, he and Kaede were kneeling before a heavily curtained dais in the Imperial Palace, along with Seik. A woman's genteel voice, only slightly accented with the lilt of the Near East, floated over to them from behind the curtain. "You have our permission to rise, Lady Kaede, Lady Seikatsu, Lady Kaede's apprentice."
They did so, uneasily, Ranulfe trying not to stare at the Immortals ringing the room. "Your Imperial Majesty--" Kaede began. "Surely you do not think we planned this unfortunate abduction."
"Surely you did not stop our trusted mercenaries from intervening in the act?" The Empress's voice was quite stern. "Was that man not one of your compatriots? We fail to understand your rationale. This unseemly disruption of the tournament we were overseeing and guaranteeing casts a deep shadow on our reputation, and we are displeased that you prevented our mercenaries from restoring order."
Kaede flinched, her usually calm facade straining under the Empress's censure. "It is not our way, your Majesty. Lord Garath was on the Council, representing Ephramad, but it was as a private citizen that he entered the tournament--"
"Lady Seikatsu, Lord Garath is your son, correct?"
Seik bowed her head deeply. "Not exactly, your Majesty, but I have raised him from boyhood and consider him as my own son...."
There was a pause. "We understand your feelings," the Empress said at length. "Lord Garath was conducting himself well in the tournament. That this tournament has been befouled, along with our reputation, by such a heinous kidnapping and such wanton violence is unseemly in our eyes. We must take immediate steps to rescue Lord Garath."
"We cannot intervene directly, Divine One," the Grand Vizier, in his customary position before the throne, reminded her.
"This we well understand, Grand Vizier. Lady Seikatsu, you seemed to recognize the perpetrator?"
"An old friend, your Majesty..." Seik couldn't quite keep the worry from her voice. "Although he was very different...."
"We may not be directly involved in the righting of this injustice, but we may impose this duty upon Lady Kaede for her failure to keep order on our territory." Kaede started to protest, but the Grand Vizier sternly stared her into silence. "This we command," the Empress said. "The Lady Kaede's apprentice and the Lady Seik will discover the location of this Samurai in black. The Lady Kaede will return to Norg and set the full resources of her people to this task as well. She will then rescue Lord Garath if possible, and if not, avenge him. The King of Corsairs Tournament will be postponed until these events have taken place, after which time we shall make suitable arrangements for it to be finished so that stable leadership might be found for Ephramad despite today's tragedy."
"So it is ordered," decreed the Grand Vizier. "Do you submit to these commands, Lady Kaede?"
Kaede bowed her head, gritting her teeth. "It seems I have no choice. Ranulfe--" She glanced at him. "You'll go with Seik and help her find this Samurai. Contact me when you've found him."
"It will be a dangerous journey alone," the Empress said. "We shall appoint one of our trusted mercenaries to join you on the road, to redeem the honor lost today by Salaheem's Sentinels."
Ranulfe was ushered out of the Palace along with Seik and Kaede, his head still spinning. All of a sudden, an important task had fallen to him, with a man's life in the balance. And best of all, he had no idea where to start looking--and neither did Seik, from the blank look in her eyes.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Field Report #3
Colonel Faebhar Fhabrun
Currently on assignment in the Republic of Bastok
Please relay my gratitude to Her Magnificence for the Sutlac included with my most recent dispatch. A wonderful taste of home made all the sweeter knowing it is a gift form the Empress herself.
The dragon problem in the middle lands is even worse than the reports indicated. I have barely begun to explore the local countryside and have run in to one of the beasts only a few malms from the city gates. It was hiding in an abandoned mine system and had apparently been living there for several years undetected.
During the ensuing combat, the beast caused several weakened mine supports to give way. Some local civilians were close enough to be endangered by the cave in, so I had to retreat at that point to help keep them from harm.
I have not yet been able to verify whether the beast was killed by the cave in or merely trapped. The local militia will be investigating the incident, I will be on hand to make sure that the dragon is dead, and they understand the gravity of the situation. I will also obtain a copy of their report to forward along to your office.
Col. Fhabrun.
Currently on assignment in the Republic of Bastok
Please relay my gratitude to Her Magnificence for the Sutlac included with my most recent dispatch. A wonderful taste of home made all the sweeter knowing it is a gift form the Empress herself.
The dragon problem in the middle lands is even worse than the reports indicated. I have barely begun to explore the local countryside and have run in to one of the beasts only a few malms from the city gates. It was hiding in an abandoned mine system and had apparently been living there for several years undetected.
During the ensuing combat, the beast caused several weakened mine supports to give way. Some local civilians were close enough to be endangered by the cave in, so I had to retreat at that point to help keep them from harm.
I have not yet been able to verify whether the beast was killed by the cave in or merely trapped. The local militia will be investigating the incident, I will be on hand to make sure that the dragon is dead, and they understand the gravity of the situation. I will also obtain a copy of their report to forward along to your office.
Col. Fhabrun.
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