Chapter Three: Cloak-Deep In Mysteries
"I can't help but notice," Canas remarked as he folded up his new and unwanted Druid robes, "that Karel is… different from the way I remember him being. When we were last on the Dread Isle, that is."
"That's true," said Karla, who was applying a healing patch to her brother's injury. He was a different man from they remembered, but still tried to refuse healing for all but the most life-threatening wounds. "It's important not to mention certain words now," she added quietly. "Don't say 'feast', for one thing."
"Do I want to know why?" asked Legault, watching the rest of them from a few feet away with the trained eye of a thief and spy.
"Probably not," Karla replied. "Don't mention the name of the sword, either."
"Which sword?" asked Canas.
"How many named swords do you know?" Karla countered sarcastically.
"Well, there is of course Durandal, the Mani and Sol Katti, mighty Falchion, the holy blade Tylfing from ages past, the famous Wo-"
"Whoa!" Karla interjected, holding her hands up to stop him.
"Yes, Wo something," Canas agreed. "Can't quite remember now…"
"Are you okay, Karel?" asked Nino. She knelt in the grass beside the swordmaster, trying to figure what was different about his face. It might have been something in the eyes, a softening that made them warmer and less like shards of diamond reflecting the infinite abyss of death.
"I am better than I have been in many, many years," he replied. "Except possibly for the rather severe blow to the head I received a few moments ago, but such things cannot always be helped."
"There is definitely something wrong with him. Karla, what happened?" asked Legault.
"It's rather a long story. Actually, it's a short story, but it has taken a long time. After we left Lord Eliwood's army at the port, which Karel insisted that we do as quickly as possible, he travelled directly to Nabata Desert. We spent weeks in the sands– rather, Karel did, and I followed as well as I could."
"Were you searching for some family relic?" Canas suggested.
"No," Karla replied. "I believe Karel was searching for absolution."
A breeze through the trees was the only sound as they considered this. Well, Canas and Legault considered it. Karla had done all her considering long ago, Nino still didn't know the word, and Karel was watching a ladybug crawl along his index finger.
"Most people would have sought out a priest of some sort," Canas remarked.
"He's probably killed too many to think of them as anything but men," said Legault. Karla looked at him sharply, but couldn't reliably tell the thief off. Bishops and monks were known for their mastery of light magic as a force of good, but to Karel the Sword Demon, enemies were nothing more complicated than a collection of vulnerable spots.
"And how did you arrive here in Etruria? We do border on the Nabata desert, but it seems a long way to march and for little purpose," said Canas.
"When I can get him to talk directly to me, instead of the world at large, he says that we have a mission to complete." Karla looked at her brother with dissatisfaction. "But he won't ever say what. I'm not even sure he's sane now. That's why I'm still travelling with him."
"If no one is ever Sain again, it will be too many," Legault muttered.
"What are you looking for, Karel?" asked Nino. Her bodyguard-thief leapt up, with the intent of tackling her out of the way before Karel could try to kill her in a psychotic rage, but Karla held him back by the collar of his cloak, and she was right. The Swordmaster looked at Nino with no more malice than a rabbit.
"I seek the same one that you do," said Karel. "The last of the dragon's undead army."
The temperature of the forest seemed to fall so low as to chill blood in living veins. Legault looked sharply at Karla. "Has there been more than one dragon in the greater lands of Elibe in the last several centuries?"
"Only the one we fought, alongside Lord Eliwood," Canas volunteered. "And of course the residents of Arcadia, which is hidden deep… in the Nabata… desert…" The Druid trailed off as he recalled where Karel had been for some weeks or months now.
"Go on, Nino," said Legault quietly. "He'll talk to you."
The little mage began to fidget, now that she had a mission to complete and superiors watching over her. Her eyes searched the ground and their surroundings wildly, as if expecting to read inspiration in the oak bark. "Um… Karel…?"
"Yes?"
Nino almost shook. It was like talking to some hero's tiger companion– the creature could look tame, even friendly, but the was no way of forgetting for long that the decision not to deliver a sharp and instantly fatal blow still rested with the predator. "Who asked you to find the… the…"
"The killer?" Nino nodded, trying to watch his eyes. They hardened a little as he spoke, but still seemed as honest and true as any other of Lord Eliwood's Army. …Perhaps even more than Vaida, acidic warrior that she was. "I was not asked. I was shown, and I chose."
"And… and the dragon?"
Karel smiled. It was a totally unfamiliar look for him. "Don't you know that story? Surely someone told it to you, Nino. The tale of the Dragon's Fang."
"Fang?" Nino repeated, startled. "…Karel, are you… sure you're searching for… Jaffar?"
"To seek the last killer and to seek Jaffar, Angel of Death, are one and the same," Karel replied.
"No!" The little mage leapt to her feet and looked at Legault and Canas, demanding with her eyes that they explain the truth to him. "No, it isn't! Jaffar wouldn't…"
"Nino," said Canas, quietly, "it seems undeniable he would. In eradicating the last of an evil force he–"
"Jaffar wouldn't eradicate anyone! He's not like that any more!" Nino shouted.
"The Dragon's Fang is not so merciful," Karel stated. "He seeks to kill, without passion or question."
"What is the Dragon's Fang?" Canas asked. "I've heard the legend, of course, but I had never thought it had any basis in reality."
"I've no idea what either of you are talking about," Legault added.
"According to ancient Etrurian mythology, if a dragon should ever be killed in battle, its fangs will fall from its jaws and rise again as an army of mighty wraith warriors to continue the fight. It sounds to me as if someone we defeated in Lord Eliwood's campaign has done the same," Canas said, looking meaningfully at Karel, who quickly explained.
"The creature Nergal's death triggered a spell that reawakened his perfect assassin to fulfil a final command. To prevent any possible treachery, Nergal made sure the leaders of the Black Fang knew that his downfall would ensure their death at the hands of an unstoppable warrior, one who would seek out every last Fang and slay them without hesitation," said Karel. It was likely the longest speech he had ever given without slashing anything.
"…How do you know this?" asked Canas.
The swordmaster turned to the south, staring as if trying to see over the horizon, and whispered: "We see the desert and it appears to us as Nothing. But where else can Everything be except where there is enough Nothing to hold it?"
The wind howled.
"That was among the freakiest things I've ever heard," Legault murmured to Karla.
"…You're the Hurricane, assassin among the darkest assassins," Karla said, uncertainly.
"Just to put things in perspective, yes."
"Well, it sounds as though Karel has some idea of where we need to go next," Canas said meaningfully. He got various looks from the rest of the gathered warriors, but they were nothing new to a slightly eccentric and reclusive scholar. "I'm simply suggesting that we should take advantage of new information."
"I do not know the location of Jaffar," Karel stated.
"But you said you were searching for the killer," Legault reminded him, avoiding Nino's glare.
"I believe I know the direction to travel. Do you all wish to join me?" he asked pleasantly, as though flattered by all the attention. This version of the Sword Demon was at least as disturbing as the old one.
While Canas graciously accepted the invitation, Legault tilted his head toward Karla. "Why, exactly, do you think this is the real Karel and not some kind of especially tricky demon that infected his soul and now inhabits his body like a puppetmaster?"
"I realise that's much more likely," Karla agreed, "but there's too much of him left that's like the brother I remember from my earliest years."
"Like what?"
"I have only ever known Karel to drink yogurt by the pint."
Legault's face morphed into a portrait of fascinated revulsion. "That's terrifying."
"We're ready to continue," Canas interjected.
"The Dragon's Fang is southeast of here, heading for the border of Bern," he said, getting to his feet and setting out towards the break among the trees, through which they could see the foothills of Lycia's mountain range.
"Of course," the thief said, wondering why he hadn't guessed. "He's heading home, to where the Black Fang began."
"We can take the pass at Ostia, then continue on to the port at Ryerde, find passage on a ship, and dock again at the southern edge of Pherae," Canas decided, holding open a map of central Elibe.
"Just don't lead us to a city that only existed during the time of the Scouring or something, will you?" Legault requested.
"I am not that foolish!" Canas insisted. "All my historical maps are in my left…" The druid trailed off as he produced a scroll from another deep pocket and compared the two. "Hmm. Fortunately for us, the city of Ryerde hasn't moved in over four hundred years."
"Karla?" Legault asked wearily. She stepped up and snatched the up-to-date map out of Canas' hands, sliding into her belt like a companion for her blade.
"Just don't draw it at the wrong moment and educate our foes when you should be fighting them," Canas grumbled back, but they took no notice.
"It feels strange not to be hunted any more," Canas said, just after sunset. Was still saying, in fact; the shaman was by far the most talkative member of the group, with Nino in her current state, and it seemed Canas only found silence comforting when he was on his own.
"When were you ever hunted?" Karla asked, frowning.
"Well, when travelling with Lord Eliwood, we were all thrown into dangerous situations on a regular basis, and frequently had to make fighting retreats or shake off pursuit. There were particularly unpleasant incidents in Bern when we stumbled upon a wild wyvern eyrie, and the matrons harassed us for days after our escape."
"Riveting," she said flatly.
"I sense that I'm the only member of our group at all concerned with maintaining good spirits on this journey," Canas protested.
"I'm trying desperately to find someone who probably wants to kill me for being the Hurricane, and her brother has invented a new flavour of crazy," Legault pointed out.
"I'm helping," Nino informed him, turning around and presenting a chain of woven flowers.
"…You're making yourself a crown of wild roses?"
"Rebecca showed me how it works. And Karel doesn't need another, so I thought maybe his sister would like a matching one." Expectantly, Legault looked to Karel, whose hair was indeed ringed with the white blossoms. He smiled harmlessly.
"I have come to the conclusion that there is an important difference between engaging in combat to prevent death and being the one to initiate combat," he volunteered.
"This just isn't going to do," Legault said, quietly and darkly.
"Someone's just lit a campfire!" Nino said brightly. Among the shadowy rolling lands ahead, a yellow flare had just sparked to life, but it was too far to illuminate any of the people who might have started it.
"Stay here, I'll see what's up," the thief told them, mostly meaning Nino.
"It's probably just a brushfire, in any case," Canas said. "Who would cross the highlands when the main road from Ostia is so frequently travelled by carts willing to take passengers?"
"That's what I intend to find out, and at the moment I… where's Nino?" Legault asked.
"My sister is following her," Karel said, nodding in the direction of the fire.
"You used to be more helpful," the thief remarked, dashing away into the shadows.
"I used to be many things. I think I changed my mind," the swordmaster stated.
Nino rushed through the long grass, trying to remember all the things she had been taught about quick and quiet movement during her few years as a Black Fang. She was only a messenger, but some things were taught to everyone, and Nino learned fast. …With Sonia as her adopted mother, she had to.
The campfire was further away than she had originally expected, the way beacons in the darkness often are. Nino found herself breathing hard before very long, but refused to slow down. Karel might have known the right direction to go to find Jaffar, but there was no reason to think he was all the way to Bern yet. The sooner she found him, the sooner she could prove to the others that Jaffar wasn't under one of Nergal's spells, and then…
Before Nino could decide exactly what would happen then, she was taking the last few unsteady strides into the firelight. The fire had been almost a mile away, but that was even further for someone who had been walking all day – and however reluctant she was to admit it, still not quite being five feet tall probably had its own limitations, too.
The fire rumbled and snapped as she approached, but the area around it was entirely bare. Nature didn't stack wood into a pyramid, so it couldn't have been a brushfire like Canas had said as she took off, but where was the traveller?
"Nino?" The little mage spun around, but looking into the fire had eliminated her night vision. "Nino, is that really you? What are you doing here, of all places? And who are you running from?"
"Nino!" Legault called, charging up behind her. "I told you to stay put!"
"You." It was the same mystery voice, but filled with hatred instead of honest surprise. A hero walked into the light, armored in brown with red spikes. Vaguely, Nino thought she might have seen him before, but she couldn't place when.
"Tobin?" Legault said, recalling the name of a Fang who had deserted the group during their flight from Bern. "What are you doing here?"
"Setting a trap for you, monster. You might look like the Hurricane, but you're not going to defeat me in an honest fight." With that, the mighty mercenary drew a tomahawk from his belt and let it fly, nearly taking Legault's head off. The thief rolled under the blade and came to his feet in front of Tobin, just in time to catch a down-swinging steel blade with his daggers.
"What are you doing!" Nino yelped.
"Don't worry, little one, I can handle this," said Tobin, which didn't really explain anything.
"That's Legault, you idiot!" That Nino would insult anyone was a mark of just how strained the day's events had made her – could it really have been only this morning that she went herb-picking for Erk?
"No, it isn't!" Tobin declared, gouging out a chunk of earth where the thief had just been standing. "I'll explain when I'm done, just stay back. Do you think the real Legault would have been chasing you like that?"
"I was trying to keep her from getting mixed up in more trouble," Legault stated, parrying a series of quick thrusts and sweeps. "You can see how well it worked out, of course."
"You're awfully talkative for a soulless drone," the hero growled.
"That's a bit personal," Legault chided him. "Why can't I ever have polite attackers?"
Nino saw the manoeuvre coming together– Tobin lowered briefly, pulling his tomahawk from where it had embedded itself in the ground, and hurled it immediately in a rising arc. The only way for Legault to avoid the attack was to bend acrobatically backwards, putting himself off balance. Tobin then kicked out, dropping the Hurricane onto his back, and brought his blade down for a killing stroke.
It was lucky that Nino was so observant, because she had time to chant the spell of Thunder, and a blue bolt of electric magic blasted the focused hero right over Legault's prone form. Legault leapt awkwardly to his feet, and immediately checked his opponent's condition.
"He's alive. That's quite impressive," he reported.
"…I asked the spirits not to hurt him too badly," Nino said, still wondering what could have just happened. "I guess they listened."
"What the devil was he talking about?" Legault wondered as he produced some sturdy rope and began binding the defeated hero. "I'm pretty sure I'm still me."
"You… really are… difficult to… travel with…" Canas wheezed, arriving at last with Karla and Karel jogging easily on either side of him.
"You're the druid – find a magical solution," Legault told him.
"I would rather… not invite elder wraiths… into my body, thank you," the dark mage replied.
"You work quickly," Karla observed, nudging Tobin with her toe.
"It was Nino. This man is a former Black Fang, but from what he said, it sounded like he's been looking for me, and not in anything like a good way. This was a trap; don't ask me why," Legault said.
"Should we wait and talk to him later?" Nino asked.
"I don't intend to run all through the night," Canas stated.
"All right. He's picked a good campsite, let's use it," the thief agreed. "Someone should stay awake, though, in case Tobin –the hero– wakes up."
"I can watch," Karel volunteered.
"…You'll actually warn us if he breaks free with intent to kill?" Legault asked, sceptically.
"Excellent plan," Karel said, suggesting it wouldn't have occurred to him otherwise.
Legault let out a long sigh and lay down near the fire, spreading his cloak as a shield against the wind and the fire's intense heat. "You might as well rest for a while, Nino. We're not getting any closer to him today."
She chose a place on the other side of the blaze, letting gold light flicker across emerald hair as she looked up at the constellations. Nino would sit and stare for a long time yet, until Karla finally forced her to get some sleep. The night was the time of the Black Fang. Somewhere out there, she knew, Jaffar was just waking up.