Disclaimer: These things sure get annoying after a while… oh well. I still don't own Suikoden IV franchise, and I never will.
A/N: This story was originally meant to be only a single chapter long, but it ended up being more as ideas kept popping into my head and the plot became a little bit more complicated. I hope no one minds. Again, I'm sure there's some major canon destroyers lurking in this chapter, so forgive me ahead of time.
The afternoon was fading into an early twilight as Ornan's rowboat neared the Mordos shoreline. His arms, though strong and thickly corded with muscle, were tired from nearly four hours of constant rowing, and the rocking motion of the tiny rowboat was starting to take its toll on his stomach. He hadn't realized how far away the fleet had been from Mordos when he left, but the answer was pretty clear now. He would've been rowing frantically for the visible beach if he had the strength left.
Louise had recruited a grand total of five individuals for the search, not counting herself and Dario. Nico was almost a given; he certainly couldn't tell the difference between a boy and girl up close, but he had the best far-sight on the ship and his post as lookout made him a shoe-in. Little Noah volunteered after she heard the exchange in the saloon between Louise and Dario, though one suspected whether she might not have a crush on a certain long-haired little boy, and was out with Rene in one of the searching rowboats. They were chaperoned by Desmond, who seemed a little uncomfortable babysitting the adolescent girls. Ornan had been dispatched on his own boat while Dario took control of a third.
"Why should I go? You're always saying he's your son. Besides, I have a bar to run, and Rickie's gonna need some company. You don't run a business here- those meat bun sellers downstairs will probably be the only ones who'll miss you." Louis had been shockingly adamant about not involving herself in the search, even though she had taken control of its organization so quickly before. It was easy to see why she left Dario the boy in the first place; she just didn't seem to care all that much anymore, and it had only been a few hours since the ordeal had begun.
Dario didn't argue, which was an alarming surprise to everybody. He just mumbled something which sounded suspiciously like "stupid tramp" a few times before heading off to claim his rowboat and start searching.
Despite Louise's determination to 'comfort' Rickie, it honestly wasn't all that necessary. For someone whose son was her only remaining family, she didn't seem as ensnared by panic as Ornan had thought she would be. Instead, she kept a rather grimly-determined face, and if anyone asked how she felt, she responded quite matter-of-factly that all boys run away at one time or another, and it's the test of a mother's womanhood to avoid shaming herself by crying. He had enough experience around people to recognize a front, but he admired her for the courage and dignity she displayed.
Being the worst rower, he had been volunteered to search Mordos Island, despite Dario's protests. By then, Rickie was leading in Louise's suddenly-vacant stead, and where the former had been commanding, Rickie was the equivalent of an empress. The only thing she had been talked out ofwas searching herself, and that had been a joint accomplishment between both Louise and Dario, with Dario doing most of the shouting and Louise the reasoning. It was also surprising how well the two cooperated when Dario was hysterical with worry. An odd couple to be sure, but Ornan was starting to imagine how the relationship was possible in the first place.
He frowned to himself through his fatigue as another memory rose up to consciousness. Odd couples and odd relationships…
Once inside his quarters after his forced recruitment, he had simply checked to make sure his throwing knives were all sharpened and ready for use. Although probably unnecessary on a search-and-potential-rescue mission, they helped him cope with his depression. Noting to himself how dull a few were, he vowed to take better care of them now that he wouldn't be spending all of his time in the saloon.
It was ten minutes after that when the knock came. Hoping, well expecting really, that it was Louise come to reveal she had no idea why Dario kept claiming they shared a child, he had been both startled and disappointed to see an ugly black-haired girl standing haughtily in the hallway. It was the Lady Tactician's nasty little apprentice.
"Lady Elenor wants to speak with you," she said, managing to somehow look down on him despite being nearly half a span shorter. "You're not worth her impatience, so don't keep her waiting." Spinning smartly on her heel, she walked off in much the same manner she had greeted him: snobby and rude.
Not a whole lot of respect for a man's moods on this ship, he thought with just a hint of bitterness. Just a hint. Walking up to Elenor's room on the top floor deck, he couldn't keep his own mind from rubbing salt in to the already gaping wound. What's the point of you staying here? You came to find her, and you know that's not going to happen now. You're useless, you're stupid, and, worst of all, you don't care. Obel means nothing to you. Sonja is, no, was everything.
Why stay where you're not needed? Or wanted?
Sinking even further into that hungry, black maw known as depression, Ornan didn't even bother knocking on the door. Completely ignoring whatever-her-name-was (Alice, or something like that) and her obnoxious whines at his entry, he sat down in the chair before Elenor's desk, locking eyes with the diminutive, flame-haired strategist.
She was also seated, though she looked every bit as perturbed as her apprentice. Hopefully not for the same reasons, though. With one hand, she drummed her fingers on the desk in a slow, meditative rhythm, while the other hand clutched a dark flask that sloshed with liquid every time it moved.
After a few moments of heated staring, Ornan was cowed into being the first to speak. "You wished to see me Ele… Lady Elenor."
She sat back into her chair, crossing both arms underneath her chest. Not a pretty woman by any means, she still retained an air of stubborn intelligence, and this posture, with her arms folded and face creased in both annoyance and what could've been interest, epitomized it.
"Claiming I really wished to see you, boy, is incorrect. I'm not interested in staring at you, but I am interested in answers. Your answers." She took a gulp of the flask's contents and fixed him with that intense stare of hers. "Agnes, go to the library for a few minutes. This won't take long," she said without looking up. Behind him, Ornan heard the door creak open and then close a second later. "So," Elenor began, "Are you from the Scarlet Moon Empire?"
"I was born there, yes," he replied, still not all that interested in this "interrogation," as she seemed to be implying. It didn't help that he couldn't tell where this was going.
Taking another gulp, this one a bit longer, her eyes locked on to him again. This time, they seemed ready to drill holes into his brain, picking out whatever they needed. It shocked him out of his apathy.
"That's a bit better. You'd best sit up straighter boy, I want well-thought answers. Nothing half-arsed." She chuckled dryly before continuing. "Are you a noble from Scarlet Moon?"
That revealed it. She wants to know about that. He answered, not even bothering to take the effort to lie. "Yes, I'm supposed to be related to the McDohls on my mother's side. They're a pretty young family, and I'm not a direct heir, so I don't really consider myself a noble or anything that grand."
She didn't smile; she just kept staring in his eyes- no, past them. Maybe she really is picking my thoughts.
"You were involved in the raids on Kooluk three years ago, correct? The ones that resulted in Tod McDohl's death? And his three sons," she added, almost as an afterthought.
"I might've fought for my family, yes." He was suddenly uncomfortable as he realized how well-informed she was. Well, of course she's well-informed; wasn't she there when the Crays used that weird Rune on everyone? At least that's the rumor. "I know what you want to ask me about, but I wasn't there when everyone died. I only went on two raids."
She made a dismissive gesture with her hands. "I know that. Tod only led two raids in the first place. But of the two villages you attacked… was one called Chindi Village?"
She'd managed to lose him again. "I, uh, think so. The larger one had a name like that; more of a town than a village, though."
"And you destroyed everything, correct? Every building, every field, even every person?"
His eyes widened. Does she want to nail me as a criminal? No. I'm not a criminal; that was Lord McDohl, and he's dead. "To the best of my knowledge, everything was destroyed."
She closed her eyes and, after unfolding her arms, began to massage her temples. She still clutched the black flask in one hand."Thanks. That explains more than you know." Opening her eyes, she smiled bitterly at him and nodded, the intensity completely gone from her face. "I hear you're going to be busy for a while. You'd best get going."
As he neared the door, he heard her call to him one last the time. "Ornan, you realize you're the last-remaining McDohl, right? That makes you a noble and the head of the house. Don't let the family die for some never-ending ghost-hunt."
Those were the last words she would ever say to him, but Ornan, of course, didn't know that.
Coming out of his introspecting-reverie, he noticed that his weak rowing for the last five minutes hadn't gotten him any closer to the island. The sun was beginning to set, and the cold was quickly becoming a bit more serious than the refreshing breeze it had been earlier.
Grunting with exertion, he put all of his remaining strength into getting the rowboat ashore.
"Still no sign of him, Nico?" Rikie was clutching the deck railing until her knuckles were as white and clammy as sea foam.
"No ma'am." He kept scanning the horizon north of the ship as though he hadn't even spoken. How he could see anything in the descending gloom with only a small lamp was beyond her.
Sighing, Rikie unclenched her fists, releasing the railing. She was about ready to let Dario go and follow him. He'd been the first to return, and every minute Ornan failed to come back seemed to increase his impetuousness.
It had probably been a mistake to send him to Mordos. Sure, it was supposed to be the shortest distance of the three intended search areas, but everyone had returned well before they had scoured their designated areas to the entirety, making Ornan's path the longest by far. Rikie couldn't blame them, either; it was almost certain that the boys had made for the tiny trading island, so why waste time looking where they weren't going to be?
She was almost ready to strangle Elenor Silverberg, too. The woman refused to let the ship lift anchor and harbor off of Mordos! Rikie had been on the verge of begging when Dario stopped her, angrily saying how he wanted to find his son. Alone. She had told him to wait, but how much longer he actually would, she couldn't be certain.
Rikie understood the necessity to keep the fleet together at the staging point, but Mordos wasn't that far away. Shivering with frustration rather than cold, she began calming walking down the stairs towards the saloon. The wood creaked beneath her steps, but all she heard was Rakgi telling her how great Nalleo's dad was. How brave and amazing and strong.
As she opened the saloon doors, she made a decision and went straight to bed. That night, when Dario snuck out of his room and out on to the deck, there was no one to stop him. The person who was supposed to be watching his door was soundly asleep in her room, dreaming of her son.
"And what will happen to me if those soldiers trace the murders back to my ship?" The captain seemed angry, but Min could almost taste the fear behind the façade. His jolly grin grew even wider.
"My, my captain. I assure you, the Kooluk will not trace anything back to your ship. Your, ahem, fishing company is quite safe." Min spoke congenially, yet he hefted his wicker fish back onto his lap so that it faced the captain on the other side of the chart table.
"I'm not worried about the Kooluk!" Min could sense that anger was washing away the captain's fear, and he realized he'd made a slight error in revealing his employers. "It appears as though they're losing this war, and I'll have to answer to a new government soon enough. One that will actually be interested in protecting the people!"
"You fail to realize-"
"No!" he shouted, slamming his hands on the table. "It's you who fails to realize the gravity of this situation! I'mleaving youhere at Mordos and telling the Obel army, or whatever they call themselves now, to imprison you the next time they pass by here-"
The arrow bolt took him right in the throat. With a gurgling noise, he slid to the floor. His hands continued scratching at the chart table, leaving gauged trenches behind. Finally, they ceased moving and collapsed onto the body. It was covered in wet, sticky blood.
Opening his fish basket, he changed the spent clip in the repeating crossbow and slid a few new bolts into it, being careful not to misalign the weapon from the thin firing slot cut into the wicker. It was damn careless of me, he thought. I shouldn't have allowed the fisherman to get word of the murders. Too easy to make connections. Now I'll have to find a new ride off this island. It was a pity he didn't know how to control a ship, but he'd made do up until then, and he'd make do after.
This trip was turning up too many wasted opportunities. So far, he'd killed three men baring this Ornan McDohl's description, as no one recognized the name and he couldn't count on just one of them being the right man. Now, he'd have to kill the entire crew of this fishing ship just because some stupid fisherman had decided that he was going to be noble this week. All a waste of perfectly-good crossbow bolts.
Ten minutes later, Min stepped gingerly off the boat and cut the rope connecting it to the Mordos dock. He then shoved the boat out to sea, hoping that the wind wouldn't blow it back onto the beach. The dark, star-litnight air seemed to recognize his prayer, as the ship didn't float back onto the beach.
With everyone aboard dead, rumors were sure to spread following its recovering. The thought of being stuck on this island forever due to suspicious captains killed Min's smile. He'd need to gather information, if there was any, and leave fast, before any suspicions could arise. He didn't think killing would be necessary here.
Because of that, he never checked the repeating crossbow hidden in his wicker fish basket, since he knew there was still one bolt remaining in the clip should a need to use it arise. He never noticed the wicker lining blocking the thin slot where the bolts left the basket.
Perhaps things would've been different if he had.