Episode 20: Now, Today, Tomorrow, and Always


On 5 Waxing of the 4th Month of the 227th Year of Paraceln's Age, Ruriko Minamet celebrates her 44th birthday. Appropriately, she receives a gift of candles.

That night, she still needs them. The sky remains empty of stars.

 

The Royal Palace of Komaru

Three days after the gathering at the Castle of the Sea, a Minamet sentry in Inazuma, a Dawning Star astronomer in Hope, and the Sone baroness of Eastwatch all see an ethereal light glimmering on the horizon, where the night sky meets the Distant East.

Word of the light spreads quickly throughout eastern Komaru, and hundreds of peasants and nobles leave their homes to search the night sky for it. Most see nothing, but a few – just enough to keep hope alive – speak of seeing the fire in the East.

When news of the light reaches the Royal Capital, Hideo Sone requests that he be taken to the balconies of the palace. The Crown Princess argues with him before relenting at last. In the company of three Royal Guardsmen, the twins climb the stairs to the top of the palace, where Hideo views the sky.

"What do you see?" asks the Crown Princess, anxious, hopeful.

Hideo raises his hand to cover his eyes, squinting despite the darkness of a new moon. "Hardly anything, Adry. I can hardly see anything through the fire and the filth in the sky."

The Crown Princess looks up, at the velvet black sky, and sighs. "I don't see—"

Hideo catches her hand with his own.

Adriana Komaru gasps and staggers at the vision, at the world he opens before her.

That he catches her before she falls is never in doubt.

 

Two months later, night falls, revealing a sky half-filled with stars.

 

An Undisclosed Location

Severin Saury can feel his thighs ache as he slips free from the horse, detaches his saddlebag, and walks the fifty paces between the stable and the observatory. Years ago, he reflects, all publishing required this sort of sacrifice: long days and nights hunched over moveable type, carefully laying out text for the chance to print a book whose contents would get the printer and the author burned at the stake. Growing up, he had sometimes thanked the Cosmos that these were more enlightened times, that very few books were still too dangerous to be printed. Looking over fingers stained black with printer's ink, he wonders again how he got lucky enough to be one of the few proud authors who still had to risk death to publish.

He pushes open the door, entering the sky-lit common room of the abandoned shrine, and is immediately assaulted by the scent of ink and day-old food. He wrinkles his nose in disgust. "The worst part of the fugitive lifestyle is not having servants to clean up after meals."

The sole occupant of the room pushes her chair back and laughs. "You get used to it. Welcome back, Severin. Is the pamphlet printed, then?" Sonia Nash was one of the half-dozen fellow astrologers who Severin's father invited to join him in hiding when the guild itself became endangered. Although like Severin technically only a journeyman, the two of them had taken to doing most of the work for the gray-haired, creaky-boned masters who were likely even now trading complaints in the forest hot spring.

Severin staggers across the room and collapses into a chair next to the work desk, his muscles protesting every movement. "It is. I have the first few copies off the press, and Ricard will handle the distribution of the rest. It's work of the worst kind, but hopefully we can at last get an error-free copy of our observations into the hands of whomever it is we're not supposed to give it to."

Sonia pushes a hand through her chin-length hair, sweeping it out of her eyes. Then she arches an eyebrow and asks, "Error-free? Does that mean you fixed the Unfurled Banner error?"

Severin clenches his jaw. "Yes, the direction was flipped, and I fixed it. Besides, it wasn't my error in the first—"

"No, no, I don't mean that," Sonia says, waving her hand through Severin's objections. "I mean the fact that you listed the Unfurled Banner at all. The locus constellation for most of 212 should be the Desert of Twisting Flame." Airly, she adds, "You caught that, right?"

His head begins to ache to match his legs. "No. It's supposed to be the Unfurled Banner. Two North, Nine East, Unfurled Banner. We checked it, and double-checked it. It's right."

"No, it's not." Sonia sighs, and rests her elbow on the desk, her chin in her hand. "Look, if you don't believe me, get the star chart and the books of formulae, and try the math yourself. You'll see."

Exasperated, Severin stands up. "Look yourself. I just rode for five hours after crouching over a plate of type for two days. I'm tired, my muscles ache, and I need a bath. We can do this later." He grits his teeth as he stomps over to the room he shares with his father, stopping once to glare over his shoulder at Sonia.

To his annoyance, she meets his gaze and repeats, "You'll see."

In his room, he slams the door shut behind him, and then slumps against it. Gaston's laundry is strewn across both beds, and Severin sees that the old man's star chart is spread out on the work desk. Cursing the day he first looked up at the stars, Severin tosses his pack onto the bed, strips off his sweat-soaked shirt, and sits down in front of the star chart.

Five minutes later, as the equations take flight across the parchment, Severin hears the door open behind him, and absently calls out, "The book's printed, father." He makes a few more brushstrokes on the paper before a bare feminine arm sets down on the desk next to him.

Embarrassment and irritation make war on each other as Severin leans back in his chair to scowl at Sonia. In response, she unaffectedly brushes her hair out of her face and says, "I wouldn't want you to make any mistakes." She smiles serenely, puts her other hand on the back of his chair, and leans over him to inspect his work.

"Fine," Severin growls, thrusting the brush back into the ink pot. "You'll see," he parrots her.

It takes only a few minutes for his irritation to fade as he weaves a spell of variables across the page of parchment. But even as Severin works, he becomes conscious of a new distraction: Sonia's slim arm beside the paper, the pressure of her fingers where they touch his back when he leans away from the desk, his awareness of the nearness of her body as she leans over him and watches him work—

"You dropped a variable. Here, let me—"

"Bloody Cosmos!" Severin catches her hand as she grabs for the brush. Her skin is soft, and her eyes are an innocent brown. "Go… go sit on the bed! Let me work!"

She gives him a petulant look, and moves over to the bed, shoving aside his father's laundry. He gives her a hard look, then returns to the parchment, transferring the dropped delta to the next line of the equation. Soon, he is lost in the magic again.

On the bed, Sonia clears her throat, "How's it going?"

He turns his head to snap at her, but swallows the comment. She is laying on her stomach, arms crossed in front of her to support her, knees bent to dangle her feet over her back. She reminds Severin of an ingenuous schoolgirl, save that the cut of her buckskin vest reveals substantially more than he ever saw in school. He tears his gaze away from her and feels his face growing hot. "I changed my mind. Come back over here and make certain I don't make any more mistakes."

Hiding her smile, Sonia moves back over to his side and takes a seat on the desk.

It takes five more minutes for Severin to solve the problem, an eternity of time complicated by Sonia leaning over to examine his work, or shifting her legs onto the table, or humming enigmatically as she watches him work. Finally, when he finishes, he circles his result and points at a spot on the star chart. "See? Unfurled Banner." Smugly, he leans back in the chair, crossing his arms in front of his body.

"Let me see." Lithely, she slips off the desktop and presses her hip against him to push him out of the way. She studies the parchment, and with satisfaction Severin watches her expression change from serene to frowning to baffled. At last, she puts her finger down on the chart, and says, "Your equations are different than mine."

Severin groans in disbelief. "No way. You're just unwilling to admit you're wrong."

Sonia shrugs, composed again. "We'll see." She walks briskly out of the room.

Severin looks around, then darts across the room to dig a clean shirt out of his drawer. He pulls it on and slips back into the chair by the time she returns with her master's star chart.

"Nice shirt," she says casually as she rolls her star chart out on top of his work. "Now, look here." She points to the boundary conditions marked on the chart. "There's an extra term on my chart that's not on yours."

Severin says, "So, clearly, there's a mistake on your chart."

She shrugs another time, and Severin unwillingly recalls seeing her in his bed. This isn't the first time he's worked with her, and not the first time he's ended up fighting with her. She is also the only woman around that he has anything in common with. And, he admits to himself, she is really quite attract—

"Move," she says, shoving him out of the chair with her hip. "You're in my way."

By the time Severin pulls himself up off the floor, Sonia is engrossed in the sheet of parchment in front of her. At first, he furtively occupies himself by cleaning the dirty laundry up, being careful not to devote too much obvious attention to the pile on the bed. But Sonia's quiet muttering and quick brush strokes inform them that she is completely oblivious to his presence, until at last he gives up and stands awkwardly beside her to watch her work.

When she finishes, she points at the final numbers with the tip of her brush, and indicates the star chart with a finger. "Desert of Twisting Flame. See?"

Lamely, he inspects the parchment. "Sure, but you're assuming that your chart is right and mine's wrong."

"Yes, I am. Because it is." She sounds utterly assured.

Severin cannot keep a note of doubt out of his voice. "What makes you so sure?"

"Look at your numbers. The Cosmos is circular and orderly, ne? But your boundary condition formula – is it circular? It doesn't look like it is to me."

Severin looks closely at his chart, and then at Sonia's. "Um. Well, it looks okay to me, but I guess—"

Sonia stands up suddenly, pushing past him. "We're astrologers. Let's just chart it out and see what happens, shall we?"

To her back, Severin calls, "But that'll take all night!"

Chair in her hands, hair across her deep brown eyes, Sonia reenters the room and smiles at him. "So what? You don't look like you have any other plans this evening? I think some company will do you a world of good, Severin."

Something inside him flutters as she says his name. He manages a smile. "I suppose it would."

 

When Gaston Saury returns the next morning, refreshed from his day at the hot springs and night at the nearest village's inn, he has time to open the door and set down his pack before Sonia Nash and his son run out of his room, shouting.

Severin begins, "Dad! There's a problem with our star chart! It's—"

Sonia interjects, "The boundary conditions are wrong, and it looks like it's wrong on everyone's chart but mine—uh, my master's—"

"Anyway," interrupts Severin, "In 212, Unfurled Banner should actually be Desert of Twisting Flame—"

Sonia cuts him off. "And the data for 213 is right because the term falls out there, but Whispering Dove the following year should be Black Winged Remembrance, and even stranger—"

"—is that after that some of the unnamed constellations aren't unnamed at all! In fact, in 216, there's something really weird, because we can solve for a locus constellation that should exist, but it's not on the chart—"

"—but that's getting ahead of ourselves, because in 217 we have a name for the constellation. It's not unnamed at all, but is actually the Traveler Beneath—"

"—which is also the locus constellation for most of 218 to 223, after which—"

"—we can't find the actual data, but we think the stars do actually go into the unnamed region—"

"—where they stay until 226, when there are, of course, no stars--"

"—and now, of course, it really is back in a place where the constellations have no names—"

They finish in unison, "So it looks like we have to revise the book again!"

Gaston Saury sees the two young astrologers beaming at him.

He takes a deep breath.

At the top of his lungs, he bellows, "I quit! Congratulations, Severin, you're a master now! I leave it all to you!" He storms right back out of the house, stopping only long enough to pick up his pack.

"Whee!" squeaks Sonia in delight as she flings her arms around Severin. Dazed with shock and lack of sleep, he somehow manages to fold his arms around her waist as she presses her body against his own. He thinks about trying to kiss her, but before he can do anything she giggles and presses her cheek against his own. Her hot breath tickles his ear, and he hears her murmur, "Mmm, Severin. It's lucky for you I'm here, isn't it? Without me, would you ever get anything done?"

 

Prophet's Hope

In the city of Prophet's Hope, in the heart of Bellatrix lands, lies the heart of the Church of Inner Light. In the wake of every departure of the Principal Light, the Numinous Council gathers to choose another. The candidates themselves surprise no one: Julien Bellatrix, Numinous of the White Branch; Sophia Bellatrix, Radiance of Gibroth; Victoria Bellatrix, once holder of Julien's position; Madelyn Courant, Numina of the Banner of the Sun; Risa Kamry, Radiance of Touraine-by-the-Sea; and Lapis Touraine, Radiance of Umikaze.

While the candidates themselves are sealed from the Numinous Council's discussions, their emissaries are active throughout the city. Thus, it comes as no surprise when, on the first night, Victoria Bellatrix comes to the house of her cousin Julien Bellatrix, and makes him an offer he cannot refuse.

"Your Holiness," she kisses Julien's ring of office. "You know why I have sought a return to power in the Church, perhaps better than anyone here. But I have never expected my journey to take me to the end of this road, and it is of this end that I have come to speak with you tonight. My supporters feel that my journey must end soon – tonight, tomorrow at the latest – and hope that there is another who can travel farther on their behalf. Of all those gathered here, yours is the promise that offers them the greatest hope."

Julien starts to thank her, but she raises a hand. "Stop. I am not finished. There are things that you must know. Most of all, they think – and I fear I must agree – that you are not strong enough to do what must be done. The Church of Inner Light is fighting a war for the souls of its believers, and your beliefs are those of a peacemaker, not a soldier. If you intend to win this fight, my cousin, you will need to look to the East, to the Minamet. You cannot allow them to embrace the arts you claim you wish to fight against. If you are to lead a war against the darkness that threatens us from without, you will fail unless you learn to fight where it has already come within us. If you do not excise where it has touched the Minamet family, you will lose. That is all I have to say." She bows, kisses Julien's ring again, and departs.

The next day, her allies side with Julien's to support him as Principal Light. The day after, Risa Kamry's supporters, hammered by criticisms from multiple fronts, barter their support to Julien's advocates. Before dawn, it seems certain that if Julien ascends as Principal Light, Risa Kamry will be the next bearer of the White Branch.

On the fifth day, Amity Touraine, secretary to the late Alnarim, travels to Julien's quarters to seek an audience. "Your Holiness," she speaks after kissing his ring of office, "there are many of us who were close to the Principal Light; we consider his greatest legacy that of the gift of peace. In his reign, for the first time the Church truly brought hope more than fear. We have heard you speak your views on the Church's destiny, and we feel that you are, for the most part, a worthy inheritor of the mantle Alnarim wore. There is only one matter that worries us, however. You espouse that the Church must make war upon those who threaten Komaru. As you surely know, Komaru has suffered too much from war. Those I speak for are prepared to support you as Principal Light, but we beg of you: think before you act on this belief of yours. We are certain that you will see that peace, not bloodshed, will serve Komaru best of all."

Two days later, it becomes clear that Julien Bellatrix, backed by a strange coalition of those who seek magic, war, and peace, will be the next Principal Light.

Madelyn Courant's response is instant.

To the Church of Inner Light:

Over two hundred years ago, the Church of Inner Light was founded upon the teachings of two prophets: Paraceln, and Shiliya. Paraceln gave us the gift of hope: the promise that through action and vision, Komaru could free itself of the shackles of fear and servitude that bound us. Shiliya gave us the gift of ambition: the knowledge that through striving and bravery, we could seize hold of Paraceln's Dream and forge of it a weapon to destroy our enemies and make our land a safe home for the Light.

This is the promise that is the foundation of the Church. And yet with time, even the strongest foundation can crumble.

There is a peril in the East, a nest that breeds vipers. Throughout history, those vipers have spawned and spawned until at last they spill over, disgorging their venomous wrath upon our blessed homeland. All of Komaru knows this – the last twenty years are the history of nothing else. We fight war after war against them, sending thousands of our sons to die.

I ask why.

Why do we suffer like this? Why, again and again, do the vipers come?

There is only one answer that I can see: they survive because the Minamet family needs them. They survive because without the vipers, the Minamet have no purpose. And so, for thousands of years, our 'guardians' have let the serpents breed.

This is the very enemy the Church must combat: the vipers, the Minamet who are their partners, the hypocrisy they represent. For Komaru to be safe, the serpents must be destroyed. And, if the Minamet are destroyed as well, perhaps it is a price which must be paid for safety.

Julien Bellatrix would not agree. Julien Bellatrix would have us forgive the Minamet their present heresy, their refusal to commit their resources to the destruction of the Aten threat, their very history of collaboration with the serpents themselves. He would have us passively waste Komaran lives in the East fighting a war in a way we cannot win.

Julien Bellatrix is a fool, and you are greater fools if you support him as Principal Light.

I will not be a part of such idiocy.

If Julien Bellatrix is Principal Light, my followers and I will split the Church asunder. It is the only way to spare those of us who still believe from the present wave of madness.

I regret the necessity, but if reason will not sway the Church from foolishness, action must.

Signed,

Madelyn Courant, Numina of the Banner of the Sun

 

It is no empty threat. Within the next day, a dozen other Radiances vow to support her, decrying what they see as an impossible compromise in Julien Bellatrix's plan for the Church.

It is no empty threat, but it loses much of its force when Madelyn Courant's screaming body is found wreathed in Light in her quarters, a victim of the Light's Absolution. The theurgists who slew her by sending her to the Light are never positively identified, but the message they send is clear: the Church of Inner Light will not be broken.

Two last events occur on the final day of the gathering of Numini.

First, Thierry Smith, Numinous of the Bright Hand, is assigned to take responsibility for Madelyn's almost-renegades.

Second, Julien Bellatrix is confirmed as the Principal Light of the Church of Inner Light.

 

The night after his confirmation, the newest Principal Light stumbles wearily into his new personal quarters, his body wracked with fatigue. He spares barely a glance for any of the appointments, and stops his journey to his bed only long enough to banish the waiting servants. Finally, and with an overwhelming sense of relief, he collapses into the cushiony depths of the bed, falling instantly asleep.

Hours later, he finds himself pulled from the depths by an unquiet sensation. Groggily, he stirs in the bed, and realizes that there is light in his room. Adrenaline surges inside him, and he snaps fully awake.

Among the lush furnishings of his bedroom is a plush chair upholstered in tapestry fabric, next to a tiny nightstand. Although the Principal Light has not given it much thought yet, he suspects it would be a comfortable place to sit in the evening to read or savor a drink. Now, the table hosts a single candle, and in the chair sits a man.

A yellow eyed man, his skin dark in the dim glow of the candle, his body swathed in a flowing red robe.

The man rests his chin in his hand and smiles, and the Principal Light sees markings upon his face. When the man speaks, his voice is deeply resonant, filling the room with sound. "Greetings, Your Holiness. I wanted to take this opportunity to congratulate you in person on your new position." He leans back into the depths of the chair, and shadows play across his exotic features as the candle flame dances. "I'm certain we'll be able to make ever so much progress working together from now on. But I'm getting ahead of myself. I do believe introductions are in order. What clever little made up name have you taken for yourself? You can call me Nemesis."

His eyes glow by candlelight.

 

The Royal Palace

Adriana dreams of a hand on her cheek, the spring rain falling about her, the scent of the forest…

"Adry, wake up!"

Disoriented, she discovers the hand is real, but the rain and forest are vanishing already. With a start, she realizes the hand is Hideo's, and that he's standing beside her bed. Suddenly, she feels very warm.

"Hideo?" Sleep-fogged, she tries to figure out what she's wearing beneath the blankets. She blushes even more when she remembers. "Wh-what are you doing here?"

Hideo catches the covers and starts pulling her out of bed. "Someone's coming to kill you."

Her blood turns to ice, but still she mumbles, "I swear that's the only reason you ever come to my bedroom any more."

Hideo, distracted, says, "What?"

Adriana flushes. "Never mind." Through the door of her chambers, she hears a muffled shout, followed by the sound of metal falling on stone. She grits her teeth and climbs out of bed to grab the two swords she keeps by bedside.

As she clambers back across the bed to give one to Hideo, the door to her quarters shudders and explodes open, revealing the bloodied form of Amadeo Komaru, captain of the Palace Guards. Gasping for breath, crimson-stained sword in hand, he shouts, "Your Highnesses! We are under attack! We have to leave now!" He rushes into the room towards her.

"No!" Hideo yells as he lunges across the bed, grabbing Adriana as he leaps. "It's not him!"

The force of Hideo's charge sweeps Adriana off the side of the bed. She lands gracelessly as Hideo quick-draws one of the swords. Across the bed, Amadeo says, "Your brother's delirious, Your Highness. You have nothing to fear from me." Showing the lie in his words, he makes a feinted step towards the bed, his blade before him, and then spins catlike around it to corner the twins.

Hideo shouts, "Adry, the Mirror!"

Without hesitation, she grabs the mirror that hangs about her neck and wrenches it towards Hideo. The thick silver links of its chain bite into her flesh, but then give way as she thrusts the ancient treasure into her brother's hands.

Hideo grabs the short haft of the mirror with two hands, points the surface at Amadeo, and shouts a word.

Silver flame explodes out from it, filling the room and blinding her.

From Amadeo's direction, she hears a moan and a clang as he drops his blade. She feels Hideo grasp her hand and pull her to her feet, "Come on. We have to run." She blindly seizes the other sword off the ground.

Her vision starts to return as they rush towards the door, past where last she saw Amadeo. But before she can get her bearings, she kicks something that cuts into her bare foot, and shrieks involuntarily. "Aha," a different voice calls out, and she feels chill fingers snatch at her shoulder. They catch only a handful of her hair, ripping it painfully from her scalp as Hideo jerks her through the door, out into her sitting room.

She gasps at what she sees there. She is standing in a splatter of gore and bones, the liquefied remains of a man-sized animal. In the room, the bodies of three Palace Guard lie scattered about, resting forever in pools of their own blood. Their weapons surround them, shattered into pieces. Outside the sundered door, she can see more dark forms slumped across the marble tiles.

In front of her, Hideo coughs once and says, "Don't think. Just run."

She nods, ignoring the stinging in her foot. "Run!"

The twins charge the open entryway, and are knocked flat by the invisible barrier that seals it shut.

Behind them, they hear flat laughter. Adriana rolls awkwardly to her side to look, and sees a boy in a blood-colored kimono, shockingly no older than Hideo or herself, standing in the doorway to her chambers. His voice is a monotone as he speaks, "There's nowhere to run." He gingerly takes Amadeo's sword and advances into the room.

Beside her, Hideo coughs again and pulls himself to his feet. Adriana can see blood running from the corner of his mouth as she rises. "What are you?" demands Hideo, his voice steady.

"Someone who heard you're a very interesting young man, Hideo, whom I wanted to make the acquaintance of. So, I suppose I should ask you that same question? What are you?" The boy chuckles coldly again, and strides casually towards them through a puddle of blood.

"He's after you," Adriana murmurs.

Hideo shakes his head. "No, Adry, he's just-"

The boy steps within range. With a single fluid motion, Adriana rips the blade from its sheath and thrusts it at his heart, shrieking her battle cry.

Too casually, the boy deflects her blade. It tears a bloody rent across the assassin's chest, a glancing wound at best. The boy's eyes narrow, and with unholy speed he catches Adriana's arm in his free hand and spins her into the nearest wall. Agony tears through her arm even before she crashes into the stone shoulder first. She feels something inside her arm snap.

The boy calmly says, "You're a smart bitch, but stupid for trying that."

Hideo shouts, "Adry!" He aims his blade for the assassin's heart, and takes a step towards him—

Behind him, in the doorway, Ruby Touraine says, "Get down."

Hideo drops reflexively as a pistol thunders behind him. The boy swears and staggers back just as a second flash illuminates the room and Ruby vaults over Hideo. "Sorry I'm late," Ruby quips as he drops his spent pistol and pulls his sword from his belt.

With a guttural chuckle, the boy beats Ruby's first slash aside. "This must be your dog. I'm going to enjoy killing him."

Adriana clutches her shoulder as she stands, her fingers already sticky with blood. She watches Ruby engage the boy, but despite Ruby's height and weight advantages, her champion's blade work is cautious, probing. She sees that Ruby is favoring his off hand, and wonders what happened to it. When Hideo rushes to her side and helps her to her feet, she leans heavily on him, and they stagger towards the door.

Three steps later, Adriana hears metal on marble again. Ruby shouts, "Run, princess!" Dizzy, she looks over her shoulder to see that Ruby has been disarmed. As she watches, the boy runs him through.

She shrieks his name before she runs. The cut on her foot is bleeding freely now, leaving a trail of smeared red footprints behind her. It hurts even more when she realizes she is crying.

A wracking cough tears through Hideo, and through it he whispers, "Royal Sword." Every step he takes leaves him weaker, makes his sickness worse. Through her tears, she nods. It is time for her to protect him.

 

Back in Adriana's chambers, Ruby drops his last pistol after discharging it into the boy's leg. The boy limps towards him, his sword at his side, and calmly says, "Well, you at least are useful to me." He reaches his hand out to place it on Ruby's chest. Ruby wills his legs to move to let him kick the boy, a last act of defiance that could buy his princess another moment of flight.

All he manages is a single groan, "Die."

The boy chuckles, and pain tears through Ruby's chest. He looks down and sees that the boy's hand is peeling the skin away from his ribcage with as little effort as it would take him to peel a piece of fruit. The boy smiles at him and says, "Very useful indeed, my friend. This should shorten the list of people I have to kill considerably."

Gunfire makes Ruby's ears ring, and he suddenly finds himself splattered with brain matter. The boy, now missing the top of his skull, falls into his bloody lap.

In the doorway, Delphine Courtenay, bodyguard to the Komaru family since Alessandro's restoration, drops her pistol as she runs to Ruby's side. After shoving the corpse aside, she lays her hands upon Ruby's wound, where they begin to glow.

As the steady light of her art plays across his chest, she presses her lips to his. "I bet I was on the list," she murmurs between kisses. "Stupid men, running off and getting yourself killed all the ti—"

Ruby's eyes widen as he tries to speak, but he is still too weak. The boy thrusts Ruby's own sword straight through Delphine's gut. His eyes meet Ruby and he smiles a crooked little grin. "Ah, love. It makes me feel young again. I wish I had time to kill you both." He takes five quick steps and jumps, crashing through the window to the courtyard four stories below.

Delphine moans in pain. Aching, bleeding, Ruby pushes her onto her side and closes his eyes. Around his crimson-stained fingertips, fitful light flickers.

 

Three stories beneath Ruby, Adriana unceremoniously jerks the Royal Sword free from its shrine. With her other hand, she pulls her convulsing brother to his feet and supports him as they stagger towards the stairs that lead down to the palace courtyard. She knows her arm is broken, but she has checked her other wounds and found them to be superficial: a slash across the ball of her foot, finger-shaped lacerations in her arm, bloody abrasions about her throat. The knot of terror she felt earlier has retreated, though, replaced by resolution: she will get herself and her brother to safety.

As they reach the ground floor, Adriana sees that Hideo is barely conscious, and that his chin is covered with blood. Biting her own lip, she says, "Hey. Hideo. I think we're safe now. How are you?"

Limply, he shakes his head. "Not… safe…"

With a crash, the doors to the courtyard fly open. The boy walks through them, soaked in blood but showing no sign that any of it is his own. He laughs as he strides past the bodies of his earlier victims, strewn about the hall. "No, not safe at all. Dead, in fact! So, just lie down here and I'll make it quick."

"Down," gasps Hideo, and without a second thought Adriana turns and runs with him into the dungeons of the Royal Palace.

As they flee, Adriana begins feeling a sense of detachment. She can hear the laughter of the boy, his measured footsteps as he patiently pursues them down the stairs. Once, he calls out, "There's nowhere to go, girl. All you're doing is prolonging the inevitable." For nearly a minute, Adriana debates simply willing herself dead, just to deprive him of the opportunity to kill her.

Hideo brings her back to her senses. As always, Hideo…

With a crash, she collides with a solid figure in black. She stumbles, barely hanging onto Hideo, but the figure fails to even flinch.

Adriana looks up, into the bright green eyes of a red-haired Veiled Guard. "What's wrong?" the Veiled Guard asks, offering them both a hand up.

Adriana gasps, "Monster. After us."

Calmly, the armored woman nods her head, lifts Hideo into her arms, and says, "Run."

Clanging with every step, they run. In the woman's arms, Hideo says, "Must go deeper."

Absently, the woman says, "He says deeper. Should we do what he says?"

Adriana bites her lip again, and realizes it too is bleeding. "Yes. Sometimes, he knows things…"

The woman chuckles gently. "I understand. Down, then."

The trio runs in silence, through the dim corridors beneath the palace. Adriana loses her way quickly, but the woman seems to know the way, and now and then Hideo murmurs something to her. They stop only once, when the Veiled Guard tells Adriana to grab a torch, and they pass beyond where the castle servants bring light. Deeper and deeper they plunge.

At last, even the carved walls fall away, replaced by virgin stone.

The Veiled Guard stops, grunts, and sets Hideo down. "This is a dead end," she says, her voice grim.

Hideo staggers, and whispers, "It's here. Somewhere."

The Veiled Guard looks at him, nods, and says, "Find it." She bows swiftly to Adriana, draws her sword, and runs back the way they came, towards the distant echoing footsteps of the implacable killer.

Hideo closes his eyes, then opens them again. "Kill the torch, Adry."

She swallows, and throws it to the ground, beating its flame out against the stone.

Darkness engulfs the twins.

In the distance, they hear a woman's tortured screaming.

Hideo's body presses against Adriana's, and he speaks a word. The Royal Sword flares to life. "It's near here," he whispers, but Adriana can hear the doubt in his voice.

She enfolds him in her arms, and tells him, "You can do it. I have faith in you." She kisses him fully, blood-stained lips meeting blood-stained lips. It is nothing like what she imagined her first kiss would be.

The screaming continues.

Together, they move along the crystal-flecked walls of the tunnel, searching for something Adriana cannot even perceive. Minute after minute they search, until Adriana can taste Hideo's fear between bouts of crippling coughs.

The screaming stops.

The footsteps approach.

The boy holds the Veiled Guard's bloody sword. He smiles as he whispers, "This is the end."

As he closes the distance, Adriana folds her arm around Hideo, her blood singing as she holds the Royal Sword one-handed before her. "For one of us," she speaks, her voice ragged but unyielding.

The boy laughs, and brings his blade down to meet her own.

"Here!" screams Hideo, grabbing Adriana's sword arm as the crushing force of the boy's blow numbs it. He shrieks two words, and in an instant, the light of the Royal Sword dies.

 

In the darkness, the boy looks around.

He sees nothing.

Calmly, he walks back to the corpse of the Veiled Guard woman, dons a coat of her skin, and retraces his steps, flitting unnoticed past the Royal Guard that buzz like flies around his slaughter.

He cannot help but smile.

 

An hour later, an hour before dawn in the morning of 4 Waxing of the Fourth Month of the 228th Year of Paraceln's Age, a frantic courier rousts the capital's ranking member of the Royal Family from her bed.

Her hands shaking worse with the courier's every word, Aimee Komaru prepares herself to act as the sovereign of Komaru until the Regent's return.