Hell/Dolls: Unity’s Edge #12

Chapter 12: Calm and Storm

 

 

 

[Do you hide when the truth comes out?]

 

~Vincent~

~Fifteenth day of Celest, Year 1403~

 

A problem had arisen.  Actually, a couple had.  Problems seemed to just be rising out of nowhere, especially around Vincent.

The first problem was that Simon, with no notice or warning, had disappeared from the Crush Squad residence while he was attempting to gain favor with the Guild’s warriors – he had successfully gained some headway in relaxing their opinion of the Crush Squad, and by extension himself, and they had given him some new information regarding the higher-level spellcasters of Saruja and Mial.  He had returned only minutes after Rinkyu and Kozari had (on a mission to procure ingredients for the week’s meals), and had opened the door to the chaos of them discovering Simon’s absence.  Because of the odd blend of emotions he was displaying before he passed out, each member had shown concern for his physical and mental health, and wanted to help clear their load in any small way.

Luckily, this problem had solved itself – Simon had reappeared at the door of the unit as Rinkyu was rushing out to find him.

“I’ll look near the Central-West gate!” she shouted in a panic, running toward the door.  She was clearly deeply worried, almost as much as she was when Vincent had mentioned he’d been poisoned.  Her eyes were anxious, her face pale, and her body language more aggressive than he’d thought possible of her.

As she passed the threshold, she continued to direct the team, but stopped as her face planted into Simon’s chest.  The three looked in astonishment as Simon, covered in holes and blood, stood just as surprised as them with a new face in tow.

…Which led to the second problem.  As soon as the warrior behind Simon saw Vincent, she drew her sword with a swiftness for killing enemies.  She loured at him as if he was a murderous beast, which made sense considering what she said next:

 

“Why in the rings of Hell is there a Baael here?”

 

Her angry roar lingered in the air, followed by a bitter, heavy silence that no one dared break.  Vincent struggled to breathe for a long period, unable to clearly think of an answer.  She could see that he was a Baael?  With what technique, and how so quickly after seeing him?  How could he explain this in a way the others would accept?  He cursed himself for being so hesitant to tell his team the truth, and now, it seemed, it was coming back to bite him, hard.

 

“Hold on!”  Simon pushed himself into the doorway, facing the warrior and standing between her and Vincent.  “I know what you’re thinking, but Vincent is not a Baael!”

Rinkyu swung her arms out defensively and stood in front of Vincent.  What was going on?  There seemed to be some sort of Crush Squad memo that Vincent missed.  Did they already somehow know about his secret?

The warrior didn’t change her stance, and her glare was still fixated on Vincent.  “Explain.”

Simon adjusted his glasses (for some reason likely related to his wounds, the lenses were missing), and stated, “Vincent has a mana spill due to some unchecked magic potential.  The reason you can see Baelis Essence around him is because he has affinity for it.”

He locked eyes with the warrior, a struggle in itself, and continued, “Vincent has untapped magic potential, that’s it.  He’s the co-leader I mentioned earlier.  He’s not a Baael, Miel, I promise.”

 

The warrior was still and quiet for a minute, not daring to lower her sword while she contemplated.  Finally, after a good minute of thinking, the blade slowly dropped and returned to its sheath.  She still seemed to be on guard, but her eyes had softened and the anger she was showing was (at least somewhat) withdrawn now.

Simon smiled, and motioned to Rinkyu that Vincent was safe now.  Vincent’s heart was beating out of his chest, and he glanced at Kozari, whom he hadn’t realized was completely prepared for combat – her hardlight gauntlets were activated, and she was dropping out of her normal fighting stance. when he looked her way.  It was humbling that all three were willing to protect him so quickly.

“Sorry about that,” the warrior said shortly.  “I’ve only met two other people with Baelis Essence, so I forget that mortals can have it sometimes.”  She leered at Vincent for a moment, adding, “You’re a Hjina, aren’t you?”

Vincent nodded slowly.  “Yeah, from Aheya.”  He felt a little offended that she was going straight to talking after she’d nearly initiated combat in their home.  “Didn’t catch your name.”

“My name is Miel,” she said calmly.  “I’m a former captain of the Miral Primary Force, and I’d like to join your task force as soon as possible.”

She sure is straightforward, Vincent remarked internally.  He gave her a quick up-and-down – she was almost the same size as Rinkyu, barely taller and barely more muscular, as far as he could tell.  Her posture was definitely that of a soldier, standing straight and focused on whoever she was talking to.

“How old are you, Ms. Miel?” he asked.

“Thirty-two this year.”  She was older than Vincent.

“Why do you want to join us, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Her face turned to a scowl, and she clicked her tongue angrily.  “There’s someone waiting for me, and to get to her, I need support from a powerful force.”  She glanced at Simon before returning her look to Vincent.  “I was informed by multiple sources that this task force was the best option for this quest.”

 

Now, Vincent glanced at Simon, who glanced back with a difficult look.  His face said he wasn’t terribly sure about her motives, but also that she was just as determined as any of the current members.

“If I can clear some things up real quick,” Vincent said after a bit, “first of all, we’re technically still on probation for actual travel work.  We were approved to build the unit last month, but we’re currently dealing with a city-wide investigation.  We can get around Saruja pretty easily, but we’re not really approved to travel outside it.”

“Secondly, our group goals are to ease the military’s stress and to help the citizens.  Most, if not all, of our missions will be in regard to Saruja or its people, so going outside the city would be mostly for diplomatic reasons.  If this person you’re looking for is outside Saruja, we’re probably not the best option for work.”

Miel looked disappointed by Vincent’s points, but more than that, she looked… betrayed.

“Lastly, we’re supposed to have some form of camaraderie here – working together to find solutions, splitting up jobs to get things done quicker, and lessen the overall load on the group.”  He looked hard at her.  “It’s not really fair to let you just join us, especially after raising a sword the moment you see someone different.”

Vincent knew that last point was a bit unfair, even if no one else knew it, but it had to be made.  If it came down to it, yes, the other members would probably turn on him when the secret came out, be it today or ten years from now, but for now, they were a team… and a team had to rely on each other.

 

With another scowl, Miel put her hands on her hips and looked down.  “…I apologize for lashing out at you,” she said reluctantly, “but I really do need some sort of assistance.  I need…”  She looked at Simon with a difficult face, then at Vincent again.

“I need help.”

 

Vincent once again studied the warrior in front of him – her posture was much less aggressive than when she saw Vincent for the first time, and her face was more focused and soft than before.  Somehow, he was reminded of someone else… but he couldn’t remember who.  Someone close to him, maybe?  A family member?  Or possibly someone from the insurgent team?

“Well,” Vincent began after a brief pause, “we’ll still have to do the interview as normal, but you at least seem honest.”  He extended his arm in greeting, and said, “For now, it’s good to meet you… Miel, was it?  I’m Vincent Laverse.”

Miel stared at Vincent, then at his hand.  There seemed to be disbelief in her mind, like she didn’t think he’d actually consider her for membership.  She hesitantly extended her arm in kind.

“Miel Andyphony.”

 

As they shook, Rinkyu spoke up angrily.  “Am I the only one worried that Simon is full of holes?!”

She had approached to assess Simon’s wounds once Miel had covered her blade, and started casting a healing spell, but Simon stopped her.

“I’m fine, I promise.  Don’t use healing magic on me right now, though.”  He pointed to the center of his chest.  “My Essence is currently on empty, so it would be painful to heal me with magic.  I’ll grab some pain meds if I can’t bear it, but the worst is over.”

Rinkyu gave into his oddly relaxed statement with some reservation.  She withdrew to a more relaxed look after noticing that none of his wounds were actively bleeding, though she was still clearly worried.

 

***

 

After a quick chat with the prospective new member, Simon took some time to show Miel a nearby inn, with Kozari pushed onto them as a guardian for Simon on the way back.  With the panic and conflict that had just darkened their doorstep, Vincent felt a brutal wave of exhaustion, and looking at Rinkyu after the three left, she had obviously also felt it.

Vincent sat on the couch in the central room with his journal in hand, writing a quick summary of the day’s events; the information on three possible spellcasters other than Warbelle had been noted at the guild hall, but now he had to include his impression of Miel alongside more specific notes.  A few seconds into writing, however, he realized it was barely enough to fill a quarter of a page.  He sighed, frustrated and mentally exhausted, and closed the book.

Just as he was getting up to head out again (this time to find the cigarette vendor that Longlund had told him about), he noticed that Rinkyu hadn’t disappeared upstairs as she usually did – she was on the far end of the couch, staring at a book she had pulled from one of the shelves.  It looked like one she’d read occasionally when they had downtime (the few times he’d caught her in the common room), but today she seemed oddly unfocused on the information in the book.  She seemed not to be reading, but staring, until she suddenly looked up straight into Vincent’s eyes.

“Can you tell me something?” she asked out of the blue.

“Uh, sure?” Vincent hesitantly agreed without thinking.  Her stare was overbearing, much different than any other time she’d looked at him.  It was cautious, careful… almost scared.

“That warrior… Miel… she drew her sword because she saw something unnatural, not just because of the Essence.”  She looked unblinking at him.  “I saw it when we met on the balcony, but I ignored it because you seemed…”

She paused.  Her eyes glanced away for a moment towards the door, then reconnected with Vincent’s.  Vincent felt a heavy weight growing in his chest as she assessed him.

“…you seemed like a good person.”

Her eyes scrunched as she finished her request: “Are you really a Hjina?”

 

She hadn’t figured it out, not completely, but she was suspicious.  If she could see the Essence radiating off him as good as Miel could, she must have been suspicious since they met.  Why now, of all times?  Vincent held his lower face as he tried to think of an excuse that would get past her analytic mind.

Stop hiding it.  His mind was fighting every nerve in his body, telling him to tell her the truth.  Someone had to know the truth, someone else needed to be informed before anything bad happened.  He needed to tell her now.

“I…”

Could he wave it off by just saying “no” and telling her that he’d explain it later?  Would she accept such a lazy response, or would she pry?

Tell her the truth.

What would he do if she told Simon and Kozari the truth?  Would they all accept him, or would they turn on him?  Could he go on living this way if he told them?

They need to know.

Vincent’s mind was racing, and his heart was beating a million times a second.  What could he do?  What should he do?

 

“…You deserve to know,” he finally said, dropping his hand from his face.  “You all do.  When the others get back, I will explain all that I know.”

He looked at Rinkyu with a struggling face, unsure if this was the right option.  Her face had become more cautious, but despite the obvious tension in the air, she was no longer scared or defensive.  She could clearly understand whatever Vincent was going to say was difficult for him to say, and that he was reluctant to share it.

“…When the team gets back, then.”

Rinkyu closed her book, sighing with a sense of relief.  Vincent knew, though, that this relief would be short-lived.  Everything was incredibly heavy inside him, and he hoped that explaining everything he knew (and that he didn’t know about it until Warbelle had told him) would soften the burden in some meaningful way.

“If you end up being a threat, I will personally erase you.”  The haunting promise that Warbelle had made to him echoed repeatedly in his mind.  If it got out that he was a Baaelite, would Warbelle take him out without cause, under orders of the King or Knite-Siege?

He needed to prove that he wasn’t a threat, more than through proving the Crush Squad’s usefulness.  He needed to prove that he, as an individual, was safe for the city and its people – safe enough to keep alive, at the very least.

But first, he needed to know his team trusted him.

 

Simon and Kozari returned to the unit about fifteen minutes later.  Simon still seemed a little unsteady, though Kozari was watching him diligently, catching his arm as he stumbled over the threshold.  He chuckled awkwardly, and they walked over to the couch, where Kozari sat him down gently.

“Are you going to tell us what happened?” Rinkyu asked immediately.

Simon nodded.  “Don’t worry, I’ll explain.  I just wanted to settle in for a moment.”

He adjusted his sitting position so that he was straight, though he started slouching almost instantly as he cleared his throat.

“To be brief, I took a walk to Turga, and a Prime Baael spawned in the middle of the road.”

 

Each member exuded a tense aggression to that statement, but Simon reached into his coat and pulled out two sheets of Essence paper.  “I already alerted the authorities, and the nearby districts are now on lockdown.  Only people with special passes can pass through the gates easily, and I’ll be writing my report in a few minutes.”

He placed the papers on the desk.  “I was feeling a little overwhelmed when I woke up, and the only thing that seemed calming was a walk.  When the Baael spawned, I tried to help people evacuate by buying time, but I didn’t have a weapon, so…”

He looked down and patted his hole-covered shirt.  “…I had to try something a little more drastic.”  He looked up quickly and said, “But, it didn’t work, and Miel arrived in time to sa- er, help me finish it off.”   He smiled weakly and finished, “We got to talking, and she was interested in joining.  She seems strong and clever enough for a useful member.”

Rinkyu looked at Simon with admonishment.  “Didn’t you bring your phone with you?  One of us could have rushed to your location as soon as it had formed!”  She was clearly still upset at him leaving with no warning or note.

“I usually keep my emergency pistol and phone in my coat pocket, but I was in a bad headspace, so it didn’t even occur to me to grab it.”  He pulled his shirt forward a bit, and added, “Also, I wasn’t really expecting to get into a fight in the middle of town.”  His face fell into a glower as he said, “More importantly, this Baael had a ring of gold in its eyes, and spoke to me in a distorted voice…”

He looked at Vincent.  “Just like the unknown creature you encountered last month.”

The rest of the squad looked at Simon with great concern.  “So it is someone within the city,” Vincent confirmed.

Simon nodded.  “It seems to be.  I’ll be sure to highlight it in my report to Knite-Siege.  The fact that it emerged in the city might narrow down where the creator is.”

“Are we also under the lockdown command, or will our passes suffice?” Rinkyu asked.

“I’ll know when the courier comes to pick up my report.  For now, we’ll treat it as if we’re under the order.”

 

Kozari had been oddly silent during this conversation; when Vincent looked at her, her face was unusually stern, lacking the excitability that normally emanated from her.  “Are you okay, Kozari?”

“There’s too many odd things in this city.”  She looked at the door, then at Simon, and then at Vincent.  “Prime Baael every few weeks, unknown monsters, and the eyes…”

She shuddered, the first time Vincent had seen her express any kind of weakness.  “There’s so much to track, and so little information.  And, Simon got hurt while he was alone.  Is it not safe in the city anymore?”

 

They all contemplated this.  If a Baael (moreover, a Prime) could manifest itself inside the barrier and not be affected, it was indeed a glaring problem for anyone within Saruja.  The Crush Squad would probably have to do patrols moving forward, assuming they were still together… which was something he’d need to address soon.

“We’ll do what’s necessary to keep everyone safe.  We’ll crush any threats to Saruja.”

 

Kozari and Simon relaxed at this statement, but Rinkyu looked at him with an uncertain face.  It was fair, on her part, to doubt this confident statement, but Vincent looked to her with a resolved face.  He’d already decided to tell them everything, and he wasn’t backing down now.

“Once you finish your report, I have something I have to tell you.”

 

***

 

About fifteen minutes was how long it took Simon to make a front-to-back two-page report, much quicker than the thirty it took Vincent to write three one-sided ones.  Simon returned downstairs with the papers carefully folded into an envelope for the courier, whenever they’d arrive.  He sat on the couch with the squad once more, still shaky, and steadied himself into a comfortable position.

“Sorry for the delay, everyone,” he said once he’d settled in.  “What is it you wanted to tell us?”

The team laid their eyes onto Vincent, all showing different forms of curiosity.  He thought he was prepared for this, since he’d been mentally focusing on how to tell them about this for a month now.  But this suddenly, his throat felt blocked, and his chest felt tight.  His body felt like it was being dragged deeper and deeper into an ocean, pressure and all.  With their eyes on him now, Vincent’s thinking became muddy and unclear.

He hesitated as he said, “I… uh… I have to ask you guys a question first.”  He looked around before continuing.  “What do you guys think about me?  As a teammate, as a leader, and personally.”

The group shared looks of confusion and uncertainty as a cold silence loomed over them.  He could see they were caught off-guard by his question, though he needed this answered as honestly as they could.  This would determine how they’d react to his hidden truth, and whether he’d have to go on the run or not.

 

“You’re really stubborn,” Simon said, “and you tend to go off on your own in the middle of investigations.”

“You’re also overconfident in your abilities,” Rinkyu added.  “When you fought the Prime Baael last month, you excluded us because you thought you could beat it alone, even though Simon warned you.”

Kozari nodded.  “But you think of our safety before yourself.  You want to do everything by yourself because you don’t want to… risk us.”

The other two nodded.  “You’re definitely trying to atone for your past,” Simon stated, “and you seem genuinely repentant of your actions when you’re criticized.”

“Not to mention, you honestly and thoughtfully work towards improving your shortcomings, and take mind of us tactically and emotionally,” Rinkyu piled on.

“As a leader, you could work on being a bit more reliant on us.”  Simon shifted his glasses.  “Although, its beginning to seem like that’s a flaw for others among us as well.”  He gestured to his body – he had changed clothes again before coming back downstairs.

 

They all nodded, and Rinkyu added a final point.

“None of us are perfect… but you’ve become more trustworthy since you arrived last month.  I want to say we can be a great team, but…”

She looked at him with a hard look before finishing:

“…we need to trust each other more.”

 

Vincent looked at his team once more, his body feeling a little lighter than it had since the Baael assault.  He was grateful to them, in so many ways, for telling him this.  He knew it had to come out now, before he second-guessed himself again.

“Thank you, you guys,” he said with a tired smile.  “What I have to tell you is incredibly-“

 

There was a knock on the door, and everyone turned to face the sound.  “Is that the courier?” Simon asked.  “They got here awfully quick.”

As Vincent began to approach the door, it swung open with a glittering of Essence.  Warbelle once again stood in the doorway, her normal imperious grin missing from her face, replaced now with a strict and alert one searching the faces of the Crush Squad.  Her stave was slowly dissipating from a gleam of mana to its regular metal-and-polished-wood sheen, and her eyes held (more noticeably than before) a white glint in their centers.

“I’m glad I got here before it was too late,” she said, her normal face now worn, albeit much more exhausted.  She strided over to Simon and held her hand over his head with a sharp quickness.  “Stay still.”

Though no sound left her mouth, Vincent could see Warbelle’s jaw move ever-so-slightly as a white Essence coated her hand, extending over Simon’s forehead.  He wasn’t familiar with this spell, and he had no idea what she could be casting, or for what reason.

“I was right.”

Warbelle pulled her hand away quickly in a grabbing motion, the Essence lingering on Simon’s body for a moment more before pulling away as well.  Simon shuddered, and they all saw a small black… something in her hand.  She held it gingerly between her hands, which were still coated with the white Essence.

“It looks as if someone is trying to track you all,” Warbelle said as she crushed the mass in her palm.  “This is the second time I’ve had to deal with a powerful Essence tag haunting your group.”

“Second?” Vincent questioned.

“I tried to do it more subtly for you,” she said with a smirk.  “Though, from what Listrean had told me later, it seems I didn’t get all of it off of you, Mr. Laverse.”  She looked back at Simon, the glow in her palm shifting to a warm golden color.  “I’m going to heal you a little bit, Doctor, so please bear with me.”

 

Once more, she laid her hand atop Simon’s head.  A pulse of gold-and-white mana swirled quickly around  Simon, changing from two strings encircling him into a funnel of magic energies wrapping to his form, then silently enclosing him briefly before fizzling out into strings of light.  The spell ended a minute later with the strings of energies flowing down from his head alike to hair, fading into nothingness after a few moments.

“You’ll probably feel sick for a few hours since you didn’t have any Essence left, so take it easy for a day or two until you can regain some mana.”  Warbelle handed him a small… something; a green, shriveled plant or something.  “Chew on this to avoid vomiting.  It’s a Belberry.”

Warbelle sighed and stretched to her full height, her back snapping and popping like a bundle of dry twigs being bent apart.  Vincent hadn’t noticed before, but her hunched stance didn’t do her full size justice – at her proper posture, she towered over Vincent by at least two heads.  She was incredibly tall, he silently remarked, probably the tallest person he’d ever met.  Only a few seconds later, she returned to her normal pose, barely shorter than him now.

 

“As for the other reasons I came,” she said, “I came here for Listrean’s report, but I sense that my timing was… inconvenient.”  She glanced at the door, then back to the squad.  “I can take the report and leave, if you prefer.”

Simon shook his head for a moment, still feeling the mana on his head, more than likely.  “Give me a moment and I’ll grab it for you.  We were just having a team meeting.”

“Actually,” Vincent said, “I think you have perfect timing.”  He looked to Warbelle, who looked back with a curious face.  “I wanted to tell the team something important.”

Warbelle caught his emphasis on “important”.  Her face scrunched into a difficult-to-read look, though if Vincent had to guess, it meant that she understood what he was going to say.

“Are… you sure you want to say this now?” Warbelle narrowed her eyes at Vincent.  “Especially after…” She glanced at Simon quickly, then returned her gaze to Vincent.  She didn’t finish her sentence, but Vincent knew what she meant.

“I made a promise,” Vincent said with conviction.  “I need them to know.”

 

With that statement, the three crush Squad members were even more confused than before.  They all looked to Vincent, who simply sighed.

“I… I wasn’t completely honest when I said I was a Hjina.”  He found it hard to make eye contact with anyone here, and he felt his arms cross in a defensive pose.  “I learned recently that I’m not… normal.  I’m something called…”

Say it, Vincent.

“…I’m a Baaelite.  I learned that the reason my body was affected so much by the Prime’s Essence tag, and why I have an attachment to Baelis, are because I’m a half-Baael.”  He looked forward to his group with some miniscule determination.  “I didn’t tell you guys before because…”

“He didn’t know before the assault last month.” Warbelle finished his sentence, her stony look returning to her face.  “He was unaware of his heritage, so there’s no way he could have known.”  She stared at Vincent.  “Sorry to step on your presentation, but I think being brief and clear will be the best course of action.”

 

The rest of the team shared a stunned and uncertain look.  Vincent knew it would be a hit to the knee to say this all so suddenly, so he waited for a moment before continuing to allow the information to process.

“Basically, I was probably born one, but wasn’t aware that I was a Baaelite until Warbelle told me when she picked up my report last month.”

Simon was the first to speak, again after a brief silence.  “Wait, why… how did Lady Warbelle know you were a Baaelite?’

Warbelle smiled, though it lacked the strength of her normal grin.  “I can perceive the most paltry flows of Essence in anyone I want with a relatively simple spell.  Each mortal race has a specific kind of internal flow, and Vincent had a peculiar Essence presence.”  She glanced at Rinkyu and added, “He’s not the only one I’ve met recently.”

A soundless contemplation covered the group as each person looked between those present.

“I want you to know that I’ve never experienced anything that made me feel less… human… and I don’t want anyone here to be afraid of me.”

 

Rinkyu stared at Warbelle.  “…It seems coincidental that you came just as Vincent decided to tell us this.”

Her voice was short and sharp, almost like a knife slicing through the air, but Vincent was unclear if this was cutting towards Warbelle or him.

“Don’t misunderstand,” Warbelle said calmly.  “I am just as surprised that he decided to present now of all times.”  She crossed her arms and looked at Vincent.  “I recommended taking this secret to the grave, since the idea of Baaelite is enough to send entire communities into fits of violence.”  She hesitated, then added, “I commend your leader for taking the revelation with such strength, and the fact that he decided to tell you at all should speak magnitudes of how much he trusts you.”

Rinkyu glared at Warbelle, who mystically lazed back a stare unconcerned with her tempered anger.  “I’m not one to tell people how to live, but the fact that he knew the risks of telling you all his truth tells me that he trusts you with his life.”

Rinkyu’s glare became weaker as she considered this.  Simon had remained quiet and stoic as he processed the information.

“Is there any actual evidence of Baaelite causing the destruction of society or randomly attacking their friends?” Simon questioned.

Warbelle fixed her gaze on Simon.  “No,” she said simply.  “The few Baaelite that have been publicly discovered were either hung, exiled, or hidden away until their quiet deaths.  The prejudice that comes from a supposed curse has been enough in the past to not see the final results of the one criticized.”  She glanced at Vincent shortly.

“He is a rare race, with no clear line to corral him.  If he were plotting the extinction of a species, we couldn’t know without years of torture and research, which would be…”

She looked at Vincent again, somberly this time.  “…unpleasant.”

 

“I thought Warbelle being here for this meeting would be welcome if it was too shocking or heinous to announce,”  Vincent interjected, “since she’s promised that she’ll take me down if I ever become a threat.”

There was another long silence, with the sound of the night wind scraping against the windows.  The shutters on the outside ofthe house clacked a few times, the first one causing Vincent to jump.  He was incredibly nervous, to say the least.

No, not nervous.  He was scared.  He didn’t know what would happen next, and he didn’t know if his trust in the Crush Squad was reciprocated, to his chagrin.  Maybe had he attempted to build stronger relationships with his team, he would be more hopeful that they’d believe him, at least to the point that they’d not kill him or pass along the information to more threatening powers… like Knite-Siege.

 

“When you killed Cestalian…”

The unexpected voice of Kozari rose among the silence, starting a question.  Vincent waited with bated breath to hear the rest.

“… was there a joy or pleasure when he died?  When you were killing him?”

 

Vincent looked wide-eyed at Kozari, unsure of how to answer that question.  He’d thought about the insurrection millions of times since it happened, but Cestalian’s death was always pretty static: he’d threatened Vincent’s squad, he acted, and he died.  It was a kill from revenge and anger, and it had never really left a feeling behind once Cestalian was dead.  Cestalian’s death was no more pleasurable than any other mark Vincent killed.

“…No joy, no pleasure.  He was a monster that needed to die before innocent people did.”

Kozari tightened her mouth in a thoughtful look.  “Then why do you think about it so much?”

Simon twitched towards Kozari as she said this.  “Kozari, he has trauma from that battle.  It’s not as if he wants to think about it every day.”  He stopped, cautiously turning to Vincent.  “You don’t want to think about it, right?”

 

Vincent took some offense to that.  “Of course I don’t!  Cestalian was a part of my life that I would rather have never happened!”

“But you learned all you know because of his intervention, right?” Rinkyu pointed out.

“And you wouldn’t have met Vesic if not for the SSM,” Kozari added.

Vincent bit his tongue.  He couldn’t find fault in their logic; moreso, if he hadn’t gone through the trials involving the SSM, he’d never meet the Crush Squad.  Where would he be now, if not for the events of the SSM and Cestalian?

“We’re getting off track,” Simon said quickly.  “Vincent has shared something deeply personal, and we should treat this as a building moment.”

“More like ‘personally damning’,” Rinkyu muttered.  “Do you expect us to just be fine with this?  Simon, you’re taking this all awfully well, considering your history with the Baael.”

“Well… it’s a surprising revelation.” Simon glanced at Vincent, uncertainty on his face.  “I won’t say that I’m ecstatic at the idea of leading beside a Baael- er, a Baaelite, but I’ve seen no reason to extradite him for standing up to a tyrant or building a unit that stands for the people.”

Rinkyu scoffed, and whirled around to Kozari.  “Zari, what about you?  Wasn’t your home destroyed by the Baael?”

Kozari shrugged.  “The Baael that attacked my Czeathe was not Vince, and he is weaker than me.  There is no certainty that he is like them, through what I’ve seen of him.”

Rinkyu seemed to be the only one trying to find issue with this.  She looked wordlessly between Simon and Kozari, then finally stared at Vincent.  Why was she so adamant that Vincent was a threat?

And why was it that her face showed the same fear he’d seen when she’d thought her friends were dying?

 

Warbelle challenged Rinkyu’s concerned face with a studious one.  “Is there something you’d like to say, Ms. Asakura?”

Rinkyu bit her lip, thinking hard.  “No, ma’am,” she said after a long pause.  “If no one else has a problem with this, I won’t make one.”

Vincent wanted to interject, but Warbelle breathed an airy chuckle.  “In that case, I hope you all realize you are now accomplices in hiding his true species.”

Simon, Kozari, and Rinkyu all looked at Warbelle incredulously.  “Having a known Baaelite may impact your group negatively in its formative stage, so it would be best to tell no one of this secret.  Keeping this between us five would be ideal, and you may want to wait to tell any other members you end up hiring in case they’re not… fully trustworthy.”  She looked  at Vincent as she finished the sentence.  “Know that more people knowing this makes it harder to keep secret, and more than likely something will go wrong.”

Warbelle waved the parchment in her hand as she twirled around to the door.  “I’ve got to get back to my own duties now.  Play nice, sleep well, and take care!”

 

With no more than that, the Crush Squad found themselves alone with each other, much more tense and much more informed than before.  Vincent wanted to say something to them, but he didn’t know what.  He had laid out the truth, and while no one seemed too opposed to his presence, it was clearly awkward now between him and them.

“Well, since we’re done hosting for the night, we should get dinner ready,” Simon voiced collectively as he stood up.  “Kozari, could you help me prepare?”

Kozari nodded, though she hesitantly looked at Rinkyu for a moment before going with him.  Vincent studied Rinkyu’s demeanor – it was clear she was unhappy with something from the conversation, but what specifically?

 

“Rinkyu,” Vincent said, steeling his approach.  “You’ve been improving your social fears through leading the team-building exercises, but you’re still being hesitant on expressing yourself.  You wanted to say something about my secret, right?”  He carefully sat across the table from her.

Rinkyu looked at him with a neutral gaze.  It felt like she was staring past him, ignoring his question.  She glanced over at Simon and Kozari, who were chatting in the kitchen.

“…I don’t know if I can trust that you won’t hurt us,” she said finally.  “I’ve seen what normal Baael can do, and I’ve seen lives lost because of them.”

She stared longingly at the two conversing.  “I’ve finally reached a point in my life where I feel safe and wanted, and I don’t want to lose that.  I don’t want to lose anything else important to me.”

 

As much as it hurt to hear this, Vincent understood her apprehension, and understood it well.  When he had started doing takedown missions for small Baael swarms attacking villages around the west coast of Alhose, he had seen the destruction a coordinated group of them could cause.  Buildings and bodies torn to shreds.  Children orphaned and crying in the streets and in shelters.  It was the result of war, he knew, but he remembered thinking at the time how similar the parallels between the wars of mortals and the war against the Baael came.

Vincent cleared his mind again, refocusing on Rinkyu.  There was nothing he could say to alleviate this fear she felt.  Only his actions would prove any promise he’d dare to make to her.

“I will do my best to protect everything important to you.  You, Kozari, and Simon… I won’t let anything disrupt your security.”

He looked hard at Rinkyu as he said this, and she stared back at him.

 

“Not even me.” 

Hell/Dolls: Unity’s Edge #11

Chapter 11: Science and Obsession

 

 

 

[Not all research is morally sound, but is immorality a placeholder for progress?]

 

~Regnah~

~Eighteenth day of Celest, Year 1403~

 

In most cases, Regnah would be overjoyed to be the first to see a new scientific project unfold. Often, there was a chance to discuss such advances with the other visiting doctors, great minds, and prospective students that were invited to these events.

In most cases, a student inviting him to such an event would be a whirlwind of emotions: pride in the skill and dedication devoted to their projects, and sadness that he would likely never see their next big project. Not to mention the mortal connection that revived from seeing his dedicated students after such a long time – most times, he wouldn’t see such students for almost a decade after their graduation.

In most cases, meeting with a former student was an overall joyous occasion. A vast majority of his students went on to progress society in a well-meaning and positive way.

However, this case, for some reason or another, was not.

 

The student Regnah was attending in this case was different. Intellectually, he was a smart student who always thought outside the box, and he even looked up to Regnah as an advancer of Baael studies. He had a passion for them, almost to the point of obsession – and that’s what bothered him. The last conversation he had with this student was an off-subject discussion on immortality, one of grand dreams that Mysteian blood could be used as a drug to end biological aging, or that grinding up the bones and horns of Icredie could achieve a state of Essence control unlike any being before.

The boy’s theories in this final meeting echoed those of the mad – Cestalian Lumes’ obsession with genocide; Isaiah Ovura’s ideas to brainwash and control his nation… both ending in the death of a tyrant. Regnah had seen the dreaded spark in his eyes that day; just silently listening to the boy crow and rave his ideas, the boy’s striking emerald green eyes searching for any signs of acceptance, and the face he’d shown when Regnah finally said one sentence to him. The last words he had spoken to the boy, changing the face of optimism and crazed excitement to one of odd clarity, one of disappointment.

 

“The loss of innocent life should never overlap with the progression of science.”

 

Somehow, the moral he had built his life by had seemed to be the wrong answer to his former student’s rant of better things. It seemed to crush the boy’s very soul, and that also bothered Regnah – the fact that such a careful, genuine, reasonable statement sent his dreams to the ground meant that he’d not thought other options were viable. He had thought taking lives was the only way, after six years of study and research, to advance life beyond its normal limits.

 

Regnah shook his head, focusing on the current world. The airship he was provided was a Class B size – an airship designed primarily for speed, good for emergency missions such as retrieval and small medical reporting. Along with Barran and a soldier from Captain Tenmus’ squad (named Ectora Darda, if he remembered correctly), he had agreed to meet this former student for what he had called “the first steps towards a death-free world with minimal sacrifice”. The phrasing still bothered him, but the idea of less deaths did still tickle his intrigue – it sounded more reasonable than his ideas of killing two of the most long-lived and powerful races in Kiria, and the “minimal sacrifice” seemed less psychotic than his original plans.

“Doctor Regnah?” Barran’s voice caught his attention. “You still haven’t told me what this former student of yours is presenting. I don’t even know his name or field, but you allowed me to come along.”

Regnah turned from facing the bow-side sky to the inner deck, where his current student stood. Barran had always maintained a very proper stance and mannerism when talking to anyone he respected, which added to the level of respect given to him. Even now, in a more casual situation, he was cognizant of his mentor’s status to a degree that would make any teacher weep with joy.

“I have not told you anything yet,” Regnah replied gently, “because I have not been updated on the specifics of his research.” He walked to the front-facing deck wall with Barran assisting him – it seemed old age was finally taking its toll on his physical ability.

“What did he research when he was in school?” Barran asked with excitement. “Was he enrolled in the College as well, or was this before you came to Saruja?”

 

“He was a student of the College, named Liam Doux-Coeurs. If I recall correctly…” Regnah scratched his head and thought for a moment. “….If I recall, he studied Baael and biology. I think he also took some classes on chemistry and botany, though it has been some time since he and I met.”

Barran paused, then hesitantly asked, “Why did you bring me instead of Rayna, Doctor? Her focus on Baael biology and maztech seems more suited to this. I’m studying Baael biology as a minor to my focus on herbology and mortal ecology.”

Regnah smiled. “To get by in the world of ecology, you need to meet a variety of people from just as many lifestyles and cultures. I have been informed that a few notable scientists will be here, and I know you can absorb some good knowledge about their ways of life and their economic views.”

He sat on the bench extruding from the wall. “Rayna has had the opportunity to travel for her work during her schooling, but if I remember, you have been confined to Saruja since you were born. We agreed that giving you a chance to see the world would be a better use of our resources.”

Barran looked embarrassed by the thought. “You two didn’t have to go that far for me. An excursion to Mial or Nozaritt would have been just as informative.”

 

They heard the sound of Darda’s footsteps approaching. Regnah turned and met his eyes as he rounded the corner, along with the shipmaster – a middle-aged stern woman with long hair tied into a ponytail. Almost indistinguishable from a Hjina or Sichie, save her almost-bone-white skin, the dark marks surrounding her eyes, and the two barely-visible horns protruding from her skull; she was an Icredie, one of the aptly-named Nilhorn subspecies. Regnah surmised with her disposition and the scars on her face, she was probably just as qualified to be called “captain” as Barolo or Tenmus, and probably had seen just as many battles based on the far-off gaze she had.

“Captain Aersa had notified me that the winds are in our favor,” Darda stated. “It seems we may arrive a day or two earlier than expected, so we may be waiting in the nearby town for this ‘presentation.’” He bowed deeply, and added: “I apologize for any trouble this may cause, Dr. Sivverya.”

The Nilhorn looked on the three with crossed arms, leaning against the wall above the bench. “It won’t affect our supplies or ship energy,” she said, “since the central Alhose forecast seems to be consistent this week. All in all, headwinds may add a day on the way back, but we’re prepared for a month-and-a-half travel at worst.” She looked at Barran with a smirk and said, “It’ll be worse conditions for the one not used to travel, in my opinion.”

Barran got notably tense upon that statement. “I… I will be just fine, thank you!” he stammered. “As long as we have a supply of necessities, I’ll be fine.”

 

The shipmaster looked at Regnah. “How are you holding up, Old Timer?” she asked casually. “This is quite the excursion to take at your age. You might not make it home.”

Barran shot a look somewhere between anger and confusion to Darda, who looked unconcerned with the slight towards their respected doctor. He turned to Regnah, who was wearing his always-calm face.

“I am not particularly worried,” he chuckled. “This trip will probably not be my last, and it is far from my longest. I have to save face in front of my students, after all.”

He looked back at Barran. “You do not have to worry too much, Barran. Generally, airship travel is smooth and relaxing. Turbulence will be the main stressor assuming it starts storming or the winds pick up.”

 

Aersa wandered back to the helm as Barran engaged Darda in a friendly game of King’s Fate below deck. Regnah remained on the main deck, simply sitting on the bench and observing the sky passing by. It continually amazed him how taking a short break on a clear day could calm him, how the gentle breeze of the filtered air helped him breathe more easily. The sight of the sun on the edge of the world slowly falling into the horizon was beautiful to him; Regnah wondered how many more sunsets Grudia would allow him to see.

Regnah gently shook his head again. “I cannot die just yet,” he whispered.

 

***

 

~Nineteenth day of Celest, Year 1403~

 

Regnah awoke to the night sky and a surprisingly warm breeze. He had dozed off to the relaxing situation, though it seemed someone had come to put a blanket over him. He looked around, seeing none of his travel companions – though, there was something else here with him.

On the center of the deck stood a humanoid creature – its skin was blue, and it appeared to have several arms and heads. It stood at least three heads taller than Regnah, and was mostly motionless, save the occasional short movement of one of the heads – one faced him, though it showed no real expression. It had eyes and something akin to a mouth, but each feature seemed more painted or carved onto the creature than designed to be functional.

Regnah slowly moved the blanket and tried to stand up. He couldn’t see or feel any Baelis Essence in the area; rather, this creature was emitting Azras, Essence of the light. Similarly to the presence of a Prime Baael, he felt his movements and breathing labored by the very air itself – everything was heavier than it should have been.

Something that sounded like ethereal whispers were being sent through the air towards him. It didn’t seem like a language he was used to, if it was one. It was more like an unending breath with gentle changes in flow and force.

“Do you speak Inglish?” he called out kindly. “I’m afraid I do not speak the language of the Azrael.”

Regnah was incredibly familiar with Azrael as a species of Trans-Mortals, but this was only his second time encountering one. They were minutely smarter than Baael, and less prone to attacking Mortals than Baael, but their magic prowess was normally on-par with that of a skilled mage, such as a maz-mage… and likewise, they usually traveled in packs. So why was this one here?

 

The Azrael’s body turned so that the face looking towards the horizon was staring at him. The whispers stopped, and the creature raised an arm to point at Regnah.

“Are… you… taker… of… flowill…?” The voice was incredibly slow and almost unclear.

Regnah had to swallow a dry lump as he thought about the question.

“We of this ship have not taken anything from Azrael lands,” he said after some time contemplating.  “We are simply passing through, and wish no trouble.”

The Azrael stared at him for a moment in silence. Regnah wondered for a moment if it understood his words.

“Flowill… must… returned…” it said as its gaze finally broke from Regnah. “Those… took… flowill… must… punished…”

 

In an instantaneous flash of Essence, the Azrael was gone. Regnah felt his breathing return to normal. Had he been holding his breath during this encounter? He sat back down, suddenly exhausted once more, and contemplated what he was told.

“Flowill,” he whispered. It wasn’t a term he’d heard before. Could it be an object, or was it more likely the title of a person or creature? He needed more information, but he was intently aware that Azrael were not as talkative as mortals. With his limited understanding of the creatures, finding an Azrael would be difficult in its own way, and getting one to talk as this one had would be just as hard, if not harder.

The sound of boots hitting the wooden planks of the ship came from around the corner as Darda rounded it, handgun drawn and anger on his face. He looked around wordlessly for a moment, then saw Regnah on the bench and calmed his actions.

“I felt the arrival of… something dangerous nearby,” he said quietly. “Are you okay, Doctor?”

Regnah breathed in for a moment and sighed. He had felt the blood drain from his face when the Azrael had noticed him, and he assumed it still showed.

 

“I am fine. An Azrael appeared searching for something specific, but it was willing to talk it out.” He smiled gently to attempt to ease Darda’s concern.

Darda’s eyes widened for a moment as Regnah said this, just as impressed as Regnah that it had worked. After a pause, he re-holstered his gun hesitantly, still glancing around for a second creature. “Did it say what it was looking for?”

Regnah nodded. “It said it was looking for something called a ‘flowill’, and said that the ones who took it must be punished.” He grimaced as he wracked his brain for any sign of familiarity in the word. “I cannot recall something with that name, though, so maybe it was lost in translation?”

“Adding it to my report.” Darda pulled out a small notebook and a pencil, but stopped. He looked at Regnah hard, and added: “I think you should retire to your room, Doctor. If Azrael can displace themselves onto a moving ship, there’s concern that the Baael could as well. At least in your room you’ll be relatively safer.”

Regnah gave him a look, and he turned back to his notebook, wandering off to his own room. It was just a little insulting that he would say that to a Baael scientist, though Regnah knew he didn’t mean anything by it. Darda was looking out for his safety, just as Barran and Captain Aersa were. It was empathy, something he should have been used to… both from Saruja and from Edge.

 

***

 

Sunrise came quickly as Regnah’s sleep was roused by the sound of the intercom system feedbacking before the shipmaster’s voice came over.

“Look alive, tourists, we’re approaching a checkpoint.”

 

Regnah sat up in bed, a little dazed from the sudden interruption. It wasn’t often he slept so deeply, and it was just as rare that he got enough to be considered “healthy”. Regardless, he shook the haze from his mind and moved to his luggage to dress himself as quickly as his body would let him.

 

He exited in turn with Barran, who was holed up in the room next to his. Barran looked just as awake as Regnah, though Barran had to wrestle with the additional hair on his head. They moved to the main deck, where Darda was waiting along with the small Icredie crew Aersa had acquired. Two of the four were true Longhorns, with heads reminiscent of bull skulls, patches of fur growing on their shoulders and legs, and (honest to their name) long, dangerous horns on either side of their heads (though the shorter Longhorn had one horn broken).  A third was also an Icredie, though her horns and muzzle were a bit shorter than the other two’s, and she had more fur along her body.

The fourth person, unlikely to be a crewmate, was an interesting sight: she had four curved horns that put most Icredie to shame, but also reptilian features, such as scales along her arms and face, and a lizard’s tail that reached from her hip to the floor (a short distance, since she was no taller than Regnah). When she turned her head, she met Regnah’s eyes – they were a flurry of colors, shifting between greens, blues, reds, and yellows as the light hit them, alike to two rainbows dancing in her skull. Her light face had a scar across her left eye, and was redolent of a Hjina of the snowy mountains in Miral, and the long hair on her head was an awestriking alabaster white.

Barran whispered to Regnah, “What race is she? Her features don’t match any species I’ve met or read of, Icredie or otherwise.”

Regnah leaned back and whispered, “It is rude to talk in front of someone as if they were not there, even if they cannot hear you. If you are curious, just ask.”

Barran straightened up, cleared his throat, and carefully approached the girl while Regnah watched. A hand on his shoulder distracted him from enjoying the interaction; he looked up and saw Aersa looking past them.

 

“As enjoyable as it would be for those two to chat it out, it may be wise to be on guard. Gott bewahre the guards are friendly.” She made a low growl as she said this, clearly put off by the thought of border guards roaming her ship. Though the idea of racism was lowered in Saruja, it was ever present everywhere, especially at oceanic borders. Icredie especially were treated as barbaric monsters by Hjina the world over, in part due to the inhumane appearances of Longhorns and Shorthorns (Nilhorns took the least of the offense, but it was still something many had to deal with).

“The guards of the oceanic borders for Alhose and Ovura should not be people we fear, but people we can respect. They represent the connection of our two continents.” Regnah’s face tightened as the airship approached the port, seeing four Ovurian officers standing ready, as well as a Class D seafaring ship outfitted with heavy weaponry.

“Still,” he lamented, “I understand your concern. We will remain vigilant.”

 

Two of the guards approached the airship, with Darda and Aersa leaving the deck to meet them. The two Icredie shipmates seemed to go off to tend to the ship’s maintenance, but Regnah saw through their façade – they were not leaving their captain out of their sights while washing the deck or polishing the teak. They were alert, as if the situation could switch to violence at any moment (in their defense, not as unlikely as Regnah would hope).

Barran reapproached Regnah after a short conversation with the white-haired girl. “Did you two talk?” he asked.

Barran rubbed his arm. “Well… kind of.”

Regnah raised an eyebrow, and Barran explained. “She seemed like she wanted to talk, but at the same time, didn’t want to. I asked her about her name, her home, and her horns, but the only answer I got was that her name was Mira.” He cocked his head in thought. “She seems to understand clear Common Irian, but for whatever reason, she’s really closed off.”

Regnah nodded. “If she is a ward of a safeguard, there is a high probability that she has been told to not let information about herself leak out. Do not take it too personally, Barran.”

 

The soldiers talked for a long while, but to their luck, neither party seemed to escalate past raised voices. Darda and the shipmaster returned to the ship, Aersa with her sharp teeth baring every few tens of seconds. She stormed off to the helm while Darda walked over to Regnah and Barran.

“We are approved to pass through this area,” he reported.

“Why was the captain so mad?” Barran innocently asked.

“Let’s just say casual racism isn’t so uncommon outside of Saruja.” Darda scratched the back of his head while glaring at the two guards, who had turned back to ease the warship. “They didn’t believe Aer when she said she owned and operated this ship, then they said something in Ovure-Irian that she apparently didn’t like.”

Barran frowned as Aersa’s voice came over the speakers. “All hands, prepare for liftoff! We’ll be over the water from here on, so stay vigilant!”

“She’s a more respectable person than I,” Barran lamented. “I would have thrown logic out of the window the moment they stereotyped me.”

“It’s not just a matter of being respectable,” Darda said, the airwall activating as the ship slowly returned to the skies. “She’s aware of the dangers of assaulting a foreign entity outside her home zone. She’s weighing the consequences that could come of breaking into violence in a neutral zone.”

He looked back at the warship. “Those soldiers know she can’t do anything to their berating, but she’s smart enough to not start a fight.”

 

Regnah agreed with his assessment. He had only known Aersa for a week or so, but just based on the few conversations he’d enjoyed with her, he could tell she was strong-willed. His mind floated to thoughts of his new task force, how determined the four of them were, and how he’d enjoy introducing Aersa to them someday. Maybe they’d enjoy each other’s company.

 

***

 

~Twentieth day of Celest, Year 1403~

 

As morning broke on the fourth day of travel, the air became cool and salty, marking their entrance into the Nest-Ovure Outlying Islands. This small chain of islands was borne from volcanic activity early on in Kiria’s creation, and remained relatively isolated from the warring nations (despite its name, the isle was currently jointly controlled by Alhose and Ovura). There were five large islands, probably a few hundred kilometers across each, and at least ten smaller islands no larger than a few dozen kilometers.

The sight of the islands slowly coming out of the cloudy haze was something Regnah was familiar with, though seeing the smoke of the volcanoes was new to him. Inactive volcanoes were all around Alhose, but the only active one he’d seen up to now was the one in the center of Edge, and that was decades ago. The one encompassing the more central islands here was gently smoking, a sign (from the little he knew of geology) that it would erupt sometime in the next few tens of years.

“We’ll be landing in thirty minutes, travelers!” Aersa’s voice came over the speakers, less aggravated than yesterday. “Prepare for landing!”

 

Regnah watched the skyline; as they approached, he could make out several small dots on the largest island. He could make out buildings, airships, sea-ships, people, and vendor tents – not quite enough to make up a full town, but enough to be regularly populated. It was likely that these islands were only inhabited by temporary residents; people who occupied housing near the coasts of the regions, taking sea-ships to the islands for events like this. It was somewhat confusing though, that hundreds if not thousands of people were ready for an exposition event so sporadically throughout a year – Liam didn’t seem like the type to organize large events, and a science expo visited by worldwide scientists and degree-holders seemed to be an incredibly large event to hold specifically in these outlying islands, which could be a target location for Nesetta to try and impose their laws on.

The ship began its descent, and over the course of twenty-five minutes (give or take), they had landed on an old, maintained airship pad; smaller than any major ones that Regnah had seen, but still impressively large enough to fit the twenty or so airships that had arrived.

Regnah exited the craft, surprised at the powerful winds that gripped the islands.  It almost felt like a storm was on its way, as his coat whipped back and forth.  The skies weren’t grey, though there were dark clouds present on the horizon, and the waves at the edge of the island were just as aggressive as the wind.  Someone carelessly meandering near the shoreline could easily be taken out by the powerful riptides here.

 

“There seems to be food and plumbing over there,” Darda said, pointing to the collection of tents and people a few tens of meters away from the landing pad. “The event isn’t for two more days, so I’ll find out where we’re sleeping for the time being.”

Aersa held the railing of the airship, scanning above her group of passengers.  “We’ll be maintaining the ship while you all look around,” she stated, “so don’t forget to come back and tell us where the inn or campground is.”

 

Regnah walked over to the vendors with Barran, quietly observing the stalls and tents.  As he expected, there was a clear divide on what was being presented; about 30 percent of the stalls were food and drink sales, about 50 percent were recruitments for scientific studies or think tanks, and the remaining twenty percent were (surprisingly) weapon or armor stalls. One tent caught his eye –  the setup itself was unremarkable, simply a red-and-blue tent with a dark green ribbon over the entrance, and a common wood table with a black drape.  What intrigued him about this tent was what was inside – a woman with striking red hair and a black blindfold over her eyes, sitting behind the table with a metal ring in her hands.  She seemed to just… exist.  She wasn’t interacting with anyone, and it almost seemed like the world moved around her.

As he peered towards her, he watched her face gently curl into a warm smile in his direction.  Regnah felt a rush of… something in his head – not memories, but images he’d never seen, black masses, white lights, and creatures of such description that his known languages failed him.  Time seemed to stand still as she looked at him, and the images slowed before finally stopping.

Regnah knew now; this woman was a seer, a mage that could predict the future.  Many “seers” in Edge were mages with a knack for foresight, not true masters of time magic, and these types were almost too common anywhere in Kiria. This one was different, though: she was a true time mage, and based on the amount and various types of Essence leaking from her form, she was an incredibly powerful one.  Regnah had only seen this level of mana spill on two types of people – young mages with fonts of Essence that they couldn’t control, or seasoned mages with the skill and power of an Arc-mage.

 

“Seek me out when the main spectacle waneth, Doctor.”

A voice passed through his mind, unfamiliar to him.  His eyes hadn’t left the seer, whose mouth he saw move ever so slightly upon the sentence’s arrival.

“A premonition stirs within; I mayst aid thee, even as thou mayst aid me.”

She held up her hand in a bladed motion, and magically produced a palm-sized card, which she threw in a streamlined arc to Regnah.  He caught it (to his own surprise), and looked at the card.  It was a simple design, as expected – a black background with a shaped red border, and the phrase: “Futurum deorum adiuvante mutari potest.”

It took a moment for him to translate – “The future can be changed with the help of the gods.”  It was Old Ingle, a language that he had studied little of, just enough to know scientific names and general etymology of current-day Common Ingle. It was a little pretentious for a mage, no matter how strong or smart, to deign they could parlay with the gods – seers and priests were reserved special privilege to do so, assuming they didn’t overstep.

He looked up to ask the woman what she meant by this, both perturbed and confused.  The tent was gone; not replaced with a different stall or moved, but the tent was simply gone, ground undisturbed as if it never was placed there.  Even so, no new stall approached to take the spot, and no person seemed to have noticed what he had noticed. The card he held in his hand, however, steeled his truth that she wasn’t a figment of his old age’s imagination.

 

“Are you okay, Doctor Regnah?” Barran looked at Regnah with small concern.  “You’ve been staring off into space for a bit.  I almost left you behind.”

Experimenting, Regnah waved his hand with the card delicately balanced between his fingers.  “Just thought I saw something,” he said kindly.

He saw Barran glance at his hand, but say nothing, not even really acknowledging the card.  “Well, should we see what scientific advances are available here?”  He began walking towards a couple of stalls representing the University of Mistral, probably selling rare-metal products or recruiting Alhosian visitors for desert- or taiga-related research.

The card is only visible to me, he thought to himself with a sigh, moving to join Barran.  Perhaps he was going senile.

 

As they wandered around the vendors, they saw a large box on wheels accompanied by five Ovurian soldiers, as well as a young man with swept, auburn hair, and a thick, blue coat with fur along the edges.  He had a set of goggles (hanging from his coat), and wore insulated olsteel gloves and a face torn between excitement and annoyance, obviously aggravated about whatever was in the box.

 

“Is that man a presenter?” Barran asked.  “He looks quite upset.”

“Indeed,” Regnah agreed.  “It would be wise not to attract their attention at the current moment.”

As he said this, the man turned in the direction of Regnah and Barran, meeting each of their eyes briefly – first Barran’s, then Regnah’s.  His troubled face brightened immensely, and Regnah realized who it was – he had only noticed when his eyes were visible.  Those striking emerald eyes full of ideas, plans, and… searching for acceptance.

 

“Gods alert, Doctor Regnah!” the man exclaimed with a smile.  “I wasn’t expecting you to arrive for…”

He noticeably hesitated before finishing: “…well, to be honest, I didn’t think you’d come.  This place is well off the radar, and I wasn’t even sure if you’d remember me.”

“I have a good memory for all of my students, especially those who had passion for their projects.” Regnah returned his smile, though internally, he wasn’t sure how to feel.  “It is wonderful to see you again, Liam.”

Liam lost no joy in his face, but shared now an exasperated face.  “I hope you enjoy the presentations in this Expo, Doctor.  We’ve been running ourselves ragged just to make sure the main events are ready on time.  Not to mention, I think you’ll be proud of the projects I’m announcing.”

Regnah chuckled.  “I look forward to it, as does my current student here.”  He patted Barran on the back, who straightened to a more formal stance.

“Doctor Doux-Coeurs, it is an honor to meet you.” Barran reached a hand out to shake as Liam turned his gaze to him.  “I’m Barran Clowe, and I’m studying Baael biology under Doctor Regnah.”

 

There was a split second where Regnah thought Liam’s face changed, but it was so quick that he wasn’t sure what kind of face it was, if it happened.

“A friend of Regnah’s is a friend of mine,” he said as he shook Barran’s hand shortly.  “Though I’d love to talk more, as I said, we’re rushing to finish everything.”  He squeezed between the two and waved a hand.  “I hope to see you at the main event!”

As he disappeared into the thin crowd, Barran and Regnah shared a look.  Barran scratched his head and said, “Guess he’s pretty busy.  Makes sense, though, considering the size of this event.”

 

Barran watched the people move and weave through the ever-growing marketplace; it was on its way to becoming as busy as Saruja’s, even despite the number of bodies.  Regnah, meanwhile, watched Barran with a face considering the differences in his proteges until now.  Barran was just as excited and passionate about his studies as Liam was in the past, though Barran’s focus on ecology probably attributed to his moral compass that pointed towards high-mindedness.  Liam, though, had been obsessed with mortality, and had focused his talents on the trans-mortality of Baael to supersede the pangs of death.

Regnah shuddered thinking this.  What if his focus was still somehow on the Baael?  What if, by some strange coincidence, he had found a way to extend human life using the Baael?  The string of thoughts horrified Regnah; though the Baael were regularly studied by hundreds or thousands of people daily, the idea of using them in any way to advance humanity was considered egotistical and brash – at the highest levels of science, it was considered unethical, since the dissipation and re-convergence of their Essence was vital to creating new life.  Baael were, in short, a necessary evil for the continued life of the world – any changes to that give-and-take relationship would disrupt the natural order of Kiria.

 

Darda approached Barran and Regnah about an hour after their encounter with Liam; Regnah had grown weary from the chaos after a while, so Barran located a spot in the shade for them to sit and relax.  Darda looked exhausted, likely from trying to find a vacancy for eight people in the midst of this event.

“I’ve secured some rooms at an inn called ‘The Mountain’s Tail’.  We’re set for the entire week, so go rest there for now.”  He turned his head to the direction of Aersa’s ship.  “I’ll tell Aer’s crew the good news next, but don’t be surprised at the size of the rooms.  It’s all I could scrounge on such short notice.”

Regnah bowed his head in appreciation.  “I’m sure it will be enough.  Thank you for your dedication, Lieutenant.”

Darda returned his stare to Regnah.  “You don’t need to be so formal with me, Doctor.  It’s honestly off-putting.  I’m just doing what I’m ordered to.”

Regnah wanted to argue that he was stepping out of his duties to help them, but resigned with a nod instead.  He knew many of the high-ranking Saruja soldiers were very no-nonsense, and shared the same feeling towards formality that Darda had.  It was reserved for higher-ups and equals, not for guardians and watchmen.  But then, what did that make Regnah to Darda? A superior, or maybe just a respectable position to the military folk?

Regnah stood up with a bit of trouble, though he waved away Barran when he attempted to help him.  He needed to show some form of dignity while he was here, even if it was miniscule.  Out of curiosity, he reached into his coat and flashed the card to Darda, in hopes of a different reaction than Barran’s nonreaction.  Unfortunately, Darda seemed to ignore the card as well, solidifying Regnah’s idea that he was losing his mind.

 

“You have a glimmer of Essence that isn’t yours.”

 

A voice from around the corner of the building they were sitting at traveled to the group, and the three faced the speaker.  The reptilian girl – Mira, he remembered – was curled around the wall, peeking out very carefully.  She was looking at Regnah, acutely watching his hand.

“So I am not going crazy,” Regnah chuckled as he pulled the card out fully.  “You can see this too?”

Barran and Darda shared a confused look as Mira nodded slowly.  “A little bit.  It looks like a murky cloud, but it’s there.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Barran asked.

One of the ship hands (the Shorthorn) rounded the corner with Mira, alert and studying every movement nearby.  She was clearly Mira’s guardian for this excursion, and was doing her job diligently – if anyone were to approach them carelessly, Regnah was certain she’d fold them like a piece of parchment.

Mira glanced at Regnah, who gently shook his head when their eyes met, saying, “Do not worry about it, Barran.  Something was bothering me, but my worries have been alleviated.”  He put the card back into his coat.  “We can talk more of it later.  For now, let’s retire to the inn.”

Darda reported to the Shorthorn that he’d found a place to stay, and offered to alert the rest of the crew. The Shorthorn shook her head in response.

“I’ll let Senaapati Aersa know myself so that you kamajor’log can go relax,” she said.  Her voice was deep and gravelly, common of most Icredie regardless of subspecies.  She turned her head to Mira for a moment, and Darda must have understood her hesitation.

“The girl can come with us if we want to save time.”  He himself looked at Mira, who didn’t seem opposed to the idea.  “Your ward will be safe with me, I promise.”

The Shorthorn considered the suggestion.  “Is that acceptable for you, Mira?” she asked after a short pause.

Mira nodded.  “I’ve seen how spry and focused this man is, so I think I’ll be safe.”  She smiled kindly at Darda.  “I would like a little freedom while we’re off the ship.”

 

The four traveled to the inn with Darda vigilantly taking up the rear, and Barran leading the group with a local map he had bought from one of the vendors.  He would look up after every few steps to confirm streets or named buildings nearby, then glue himself back to the map for a minute before repeating the process.  Regnah and Mira followed in silence, Mira wordlessly exploring the area with her eyes.  She seemed rather sheltered compared to other safeguard wards; Rinkyu had been quiet and reserved, even when she had joined the Poison Squad.  Mira, by contrast, was looking around with some minor excitement, and had been more talkative in a day than Rinkyu had been in three years.

Mira looked at Regnah about ten minutes into their quest and asked, “You’re a famous scientist, right?”

Regnah glanced at her.  She seemed more relaxed than when she was on the airship.

“I suppose I am, if not by name only,” he responded.

“Then why does it seem like no one knows you here?”  She tilted her head as she asked.  “This is a science expo, isn’t it?”

Barran whipped around with a face between anger and stupefaction, but softened his look as Regnah laughed heartily.  He hesitantly returned to searching for the inn as they talked.

“I do not make many public appearances anymore, so my face may not be as well-known to the younger generation of scientists.  Besides that, my focus is on Baael biology, and my maztech work is mostly derivative of a former colleague.”  He scratched his head and added, “I would honestly be a little surprised if anyone here noticed me, since this expo is more focused on maztech.”

Mira rubbed the base of her left-lower horn while thinking as they turned onto a wide street.  “I’m surprised any sane person would be interested in studying those terrifying creatures.”

Regnah gave her a weak smile.  “It is not for everyone, that much is clear.  Capturing them alone is a trial, but studying them is its own collection of problems.”

 

“We’re here!” Barran suddenly crowed to the group.  The other three refocused onto the large building taking up at least half of the block.  The sign clearly read “The Mountain’s Tail Inn and Tavern” with the painted image of a crude large lizard with a tail wrapping under the name, and the lizard gripping a flagon in its arm.  There was also a background that mocked the mountains of the island they were on, with the highest one protruding a circle of smoke.

“…At least, this seems to be the right place.”

Barran looked into the windows, but the glass was warped and opaque, the inside hardly visible from the outside.  The building itself was not too intimidating, with a signboard out front listing the tavern’s regular drinks and some common meals available, and the oval double doors with a beautiful transom with a geometric design.  The walls seemed to be made of harder woods than those found in Alhose, with metal supports everywhere.

 

Barran inched the double doors open (out of weakness, not out of caution), and each member of the group could now stare into the large building.  There were large tables placed on stands all over the  dining area, no less than six in the lower level and at least eight more on the raised level, and a ten-seat bar counter with a small wall of liquors behind it.  A simple staircase on the left side had railings leading up to not one, but three separate floors of short-stay rooms, leading down a hallway to the far end of the building.  Regnah could easily calculate that there were no less than twenty rooms here, and likely no more than fifty.

A barmaid (a tall, lithe woman with star-split ears and an unusual gem embedded in her clavicle) approached the group as the door creaked open.  She quickly glanced at each of their faces, and focused on Darda.  “Table for four?”

“We’ll actually have a larger group coming in, so can you swing nine?”

The barmaid cocked her head towards some of the bigger tables, which were mostly occupied by what seemed like Guild members of an Ovurian guild.  She then glanced at another table, mostly empty, except for one person in a black hooded cloak.

“If you wanna wait for that one,” she said, pointing to one group of Ovurian Guild members, “they’re getting ready to leave.”  She then pointed to the other table.  “That one just got here, but said he was alone.  Could be good to meet new people because of this event.  If you don’t mind sharing tables, those are the ones best suited for nine.”

Darda compared the two options, hesitantly looking at the hooded man.  “We’ll wait for a free table, thanks.”

The barmaid smiled gently and went back to waiting tables.  Darda leaned over to the others and clarified: “The one in the cloak has severe mana spill, even I can notice it.  He’s got a holster on his hip, so he might be a mage killer or assassin.”  He frowned, and added, “Best to steer clear of him altogether.”

 

After a few minutes, the warriors left the table, passing by the group as they waited for it to be cleaned.  One warrior, a dark-skinned man with a retracted glaive on his side and azure armor, paused in front of Regnah’s group, his eyes carefully focused on Mira.  He squinted, and Regnah noticed something was off in the vicinity.  He glanced at Mira, whose horns and scales were covered in a thick cloud of Essence; it seemed that she was glamouring her appearance – her body was presented as a Hjina currently, with a few scars in place of some of her scales.

The fact that she was glamoured was obvious, no spellcaster could hide such a spell from a close-by observer.  The true form, however, could never be determined by any random person; the spell was incredibly powerful, and Regnah was convinced even Warbelle may have trouble seeing through this spell.  This warrior, despite this, was trying hard.

Darda moved in front of Mira, with a very hard stare at the soldier.  “Pardon us,” he said shortly.  The warrior leered at Darda before his companions called out to him.

 

“Pessa, are you coming or not?”

 

The warrior glanced at the door, where his allies were waiting, then back at Darda and Mira.  “Sorry, thought I saw something.”

Darda glared at the warrior until the group had left the building, then turned to Mira.  Her body had returned to normal, and the heavy cloud of magic had dissipated.  Before Darda could ask his question, Barran was in Mira’s face, eyes full of wonder.

“How did you do that, Mira?  I’ve never seen magic like that!”

Darda pulled Barran away as Mira smiled.  “My sister procured this for me a long time ago.”  She pulled out a palm-sized gem that was black and still, though a swirl of Essence could be seen fading from it when she retrieved it.

“It’s an Artefact that activates when danger is sensed.  It has a lot of different spells glyphed into it, and I need to charge it daily.”

Darda cleared his throat.  “Can we move on?” He ushered to the now-open, now-cleaned table.  “I’d like to eat and bathe before I sleep tonight, especially if the next week will be this… eventful.”

Regnah wanted to know more about this magical item Mira was in possession of, but held himself back in respect of Darda.  They followed the server to their table, awaiting the rest of their party before ordering food.

“Going back a bit,” Barran questioned, “what were you and Mira talking about earlier?  Something about an Essence that wasn’t yours?”

 

Regnah looked at Barran tiredly, once again reaching into his coat to present the card.  Darda and Barran, once again, seemed to struggle in noticing anything was in his hand.

“I was given this card with a message that I return to the person who gave it to me after the headliner’s presentation.”  He turned it in his hand – the words were clearly visible to him, but to no one else.  If he had to guess, this small piece of cardstock could be an Artefact in its own right.  Invisible to mana-weak persons, or a collage of spells to limit who can see it.

“I can see… something in your hand, but whatever it is just appears as a patterned light.”  Barran squinted once more, focusing some Essence in his eyes to get a better look. “I’ve never seen something like this.”

“My assumption,” Regnah pondered, “is that it is akin to the Essence parchment we use, but using some method or spell to block perception of it rather than physically hide it.  I find it intriguing, but the amount of Essence it releases at any given moment could be a long-term health hazard.  I’d prefer to store it somewhere safer…”

“Why not store it on the ship?” Mira asked.  “I’m sure Captain Aersa has a spot or box we can keep it safe until you need it.”

Darda was still trying to comprehend the card.  “It seems like something I wouldn’t understand, so I won’t pry too much, but wouldn’t leaving it out of sight for too long be a bad thing?  We don’t really know what it is, just that it has the form of a card and emits odd Essence.”  He rested his leer but frowned with contempt.  “For all we know, it could be some kind of magical time bomb.”

Regnah and Barran shared a look.  “I… don’t think you need to worry about that,” Barran quietly said, noticing Aersa’s crew entering the establishment.  “Essence-based explosives don’t leak Essence, since it’s a sign that the weapon would be unstable.”

“What are y’all yapping about?” Aersa said as she and her three companions sat at the table, the barmaid stopping by to drop off menus for everyone.  “Sounds like something you shouldn’t be talking about in the open.”

“Do you need some time…” the server began, but as Aersa glanced at her, an uncomfortable tension could be felt lingering in the air for a moment before the server said, “I’ll let you read the menus before I get your orders.  I’ll be back in a bit.”  She smiled shortly, and quickly turned to her (few) other customers – Regnah caught an obvious look of fear after her eyes met Aersa’s.

Aersa reoriented to the group.  “Ship’s locked up and fixed up, so we’re going to take a flight around the island tomorrow, see what’s nearby.”  She watched Regnah and Barran for a split second before adding, “You’re welcome to join us, since the event starts in two days.  It might be nice to take in some sights away from people before being surrounded by them for days on end.”

Regnah looked disappointedly at Aersa.  He already knew many Icredie were adverse to social situations, but he’d chalked it up to stereotyping; Aersa’s crew was clearly against big crowds, despite taking this job, as each member looked equally exhausted by the simple trek of getting to here.  Had he requested this trip through the proper channels, she may not have had to deal with this situation.  Regnah felt his face change as he thought this, from disappointment to regret.

“I would like to talk to some of the other invitees while I have a chance,” Regnah stated gently.  “It will not be too bad in the established buildings or the park area.”  He noticed Barran deflate a little when he said this, and couldn’t hold back a chuckle as he addressed him.  “If you would like to see the islands from above, do not let me stop you.  There will be plenty of time to talk with the other invitees between presentations.”

He could see the barmaid hesitantly peering around one of the building’s support pillars, and waved her over.  “I think we are ready to order.”

He hadn’t noticed until he raised his hand, but someone was behind him.  Based on the slow reaction from the rest of the table, they hadn’t noticed either, until the person spoke up.

“Your group has an interestin’ collection of magical items,” a man’s voice called out, gritty and slow.

Darda and Aersa immediately stood into aggressive positions, and the crew followed suit with Mira and Barran sharing a startled look.  Regnah turned to face the man – it had been the voice of the possible mage killer that Darda pointed out.  He had no weapons drawn, though his presence leaked concerning readiness and eerie stealth.

“Specially the one that girl’s carryin’,” he said as he pointed to Mira, whose face had drained.  The man’s face was mostly shadowed with his hood, but an expectant grin creeped across his face. “I’d like to buy y’all a drink.”

Deep Dive: Glistless #1 and #2

IT’S BEEN RELEASED!!!

First few chapters of the new Hell/Dolls story, Glistless: The Dark Elf, is now available exclusively on Royal Road!!

Neither of my Hell/Dolls stories have cover pages yet, but come mid-December, I’ll hopefully have something for both… as well as some headers for specific blog posts.

I have some high hopes.

BUT THAT’S NOT WHAT WE’RE HERE FOR TODAY!

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