Feather
Flight: I Want
to Protect You. (part 17)
An AU Kuja fic, shonen-ai, language
*************************
*************************
Laro wiped the blood from his eyes as he worked his way down the edge of the column, coaxing his men back towards the safety of the main army with whatever he could. Well mauled, but victorious, they trudged two-abreast down the long spiraling staircase at the center of the cracked and crumbling monolith. Carried in their midst on a careful stretcher of spears and cloaks, was a remarkable treasure. The general refused to look at it, knowing its power to enthrall. Instead he stood in a convenient alcove as the group passed by before falling in behind them with the injured, catching one of the limping officers around the waist and under the arm to act as human-crutch.
“Come on man, lean on me. No sense tumbling down into the others and causing a cascade.”
Aghast to be assisted by a warlord, the Lieutenant could only nod silently, diligently bending to the task of limping his way down the interminable flight of stairs. Laro’s nose twitched with the scent of dust, and insect spoor. The sooner he was back in daylight, the happier he’d be. They would camp the base of the Tower for a day before pushing south, but first there was the matter of the Shard to deal with. He calculated a rough schedule for the journey to the capital and silently determined it would just be easiest if he sent it back in his jeep. Propriety or not, he didn’t see any problem with walking with his troops for a few weeks, if it meant that his latest trophy was safely secured within the capital. The general made a mental note to double the watch for the night, wondering if the Selwe would dare a sneak attack to reclaim what was lost.
// No, they’ll just expect to attack a slow moving army moving back to the mountains, but if we push ahead, and the driver makes good time… I should send my spare truck as well… extravagant perhaps but if one breaks down… Speed is all that matters at this point. //
They blinked to adjust their eyes as they emerged into the westerly sunlight. Laro took the opportunity to pass his burden off to one of the soldiers resting at the base. The soldier would be tended to as soon as the medical tent was up and ready. He turned instead and rattled off commands to his staff sergeant, taking a moment to personally oversee the Shard carefully packed and lashed to the back of the small vehicle. Driver, guards, and mechanics prepared with minimum wasted motion, and within the hour all that remained was the dust of their passing.
Laro continued to rattle off orders as the camp took shape, stationing sharp shooters at the top of the Tower where they could get the best view of the valley. Looking up, he couldn’t help but be impressed at the size of their accomplishment. Even after the final siege the monolith stood mostly intact, especially the critical top floors. Taking a Tower undamaged was a stroke of luck even he couldn’t have predicted. Ibat for all of his successes in the past year, hadn’t managed one yet where the fragile top floors hadn’t given way; either teetering sideways or caving in on themselves, breaking the treasure contained within. Gathering pieces of the Shards was easy enough to do -- given the relative sizes and experience of the armies – but to steal one both whole and intact. He couldn’t help but smile.
// Good luck… and good strategy… I’ll have to ask Masa who this new strategist is… maybe he can put some pressure on the Duke for me… //
*************************
Kuja awoke from his dream of twisting roots and shuddering darkness with little warning. One minute he was /there/, the memory still vivid in his mind despite the time that had passed. The next minute, he opened his eyes, and was greeted by a bland panorama of white ceiling. It conflicted oddly with the echo of Zidane’s voice in his ears and the roaring rush of the Lifa tree as it threatened to consume them, consume everything.
// … Don’t you go dying on me… alright?! //
He was amazed at his brother’s strained expression, noticing for the first time how scared Zidane looked despite his brave words. It was strange to think of Zidane as having any self-doubt. Maybe his memory was playing tricks, trying to make him feel better about his own weakness.
// … No matter what you say… you don’t deserve to die... //
His brother had been an idiot, that much at least, hadn’t changed. Why bother trying to save a dying man? They both would have been better off if Zidane had just left him behind.
// But I told him… I told him the trick to the tree… I who
knew more of
He felt stiff and drained, content to lay still and be cocooned by the heavy blankets tucked around him rather than draw attention to himself. The tree, the dark, the ocean, two thoughts drifted close enough to catch and he pieced them together into a workable theory.
// He has to be alive… if he didn’t send me here, than who
did? Sending me between two worlds without the need for technology… Zidane… an angel of Death who could be everywhere and also
nowhere… A weapon capable of existing outside of time itself?
Tired, he studied the plastered smoothness of the ceiling, not really seeing it for what it was but rather as a canvas to hold his memories. Something about the blank white helped him gather his thoughts.
// I could always see /how/… but lacked the strength… artificially
limited, in power, in life, given an inferior soul… Right until the end… and
then I found a way… to go to Memoria where the
The genome’s sigh was a rattling noise in his chest that did not bode well. That thought too made him smile. One way or another, he had reached his long delayed ‘final act’.
“Kuja?”
“… yes.”
“Don’t move, I’m getting the others.” His unknown nursemaid slipped from the room and returned with a murmuring crowd in tow. Kuja was treated to a surreal view of several people, all trying to peer down at him at once. After a moment his tired brain allowed him to pick the Duke’s face out of the jumble.
“… what… happened?”
“You fell ill…”
Finding that if he forced himself to focus, he could place names with faces, the silver-haired man digested the news without comment. It was uncomfortable to have so many people looming over him. “Help me sit up?”
He closed his eyes when reality refused to behave, trusting the others to get his uncooperative body into a pose more suited for talking without his help. Watching the room tilt and churn wasn’t going to help him keep a handle on his stomach, which was feeling more than a little rebellious.
“I’d like you to eat something, Kuja…” The warm cup was pressed against his lips, and unwilling, he swallowed. He didn’t need to look at the sturdy woman to recognize her voice. “I sent for Ing immediately, but it’ll be tomorrow at the soonest that we can expect him.”
“Ing?” Surprisingly, his stomach was content to allow the intruding broth, and the warmth did more to wake him than anything else. “Tomorrow…? But he lives days away…” Opening his eyes, he could appreciate the more reasonable view, his little audience gathered on stools around his bed. Their worried looks spoke volumes.
“…How long have I slept…?”
“… four days, child.”
He looked at the dean in disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”
“What do you remember…?”
“… I… went back to my room…”
“… and…?”
“Went to sleep?”
“You didn’t even take your shoes off… Good thing I checked on you when I did…” The young general’s bland comment shook him from his stupor. Finding he had the strength to feed himself, he claimed the cup, more as a distraction than out of any real desire for food.
“… four days… today is the 21st then…” Something about the date tickled a memory.
“Yes.”
// Oh hell… I don’t need this right now… //
Knowing what the reply would be, he had to ask anyway. “… I don’t suppose anyone remembered… to send Laro my letters…”
To his credit, the Duke caught onto his meaning faster than the others, wincing in dismay. “… Unfortunately, it had completely slipped my mind in the excitement…”
Kuja drank again, voice reviving a little with the aid of the fluid. “He’ll be expecting letters… eight of them… one every second day…”
“I’ll take care of it. We’ll just say they were delayed somehow…”
“I’d only written six… I was supposed to have finished the other two… but didn’t…”
Riquoi paused, and then shook his head. “I’ll take care of it. Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had use for a forger in my life.” He smiled cynically. “Anything in particular he’s expecting you to say?”
Tilting his head back on the pillows, the silver-haired man thought a moment. “Just general news, and that I am well… and maybe that I miss talking with him… that ought to tide him over. Use the others as a guide if you must.”
“I’ll be back in an hour.” The old man gave the others a warning sort of look.
// … and now… for the medical portion of the interview… //
Dean Finlay seemed to take it as a sign she was to takeover, waiving two of the young doctors forward to give her unwilling patient a quick examination. Kuja put up with the poking and prodding as well as he could, having no energy to growl as he wanted. It was strange to note the students were almost nervous in their handling of him. At first he thought it was just that they were performing under-fire, their mentor watching them like a hawk. It wasn’t until he looked up and caught General Gerrik’s suspicious look that the pieces began to fit together.
// … They’re nervous about /me/…? //
Looking down, he wasn’t really that surprised to note that he was now wearing a clean cotton smock instead of the wrinkled remains of whatever it had been from days before. His tail stirred beneath the sheets, betraying a single twitch of nervous energy. It was enough to make the soldier jump although the others were more restrained. Kuja watched the older woman closely but couldn’t gage her expression at all. “I see… and does the Duke know?”
“…Yes.”
“Who else?”
“These two, him, we think that’s all.” The genome spared a glance at both of her students and the studiously bored-looking officer. “I imagine rumor would be flying by now if it had leaked to the court.”
// Man with monkey tail seduces general and attempts military coup? I think not. //
“Fair enough. At least you had the decency not to hang me on sight.”
“What /are/ you?!” Gerrik interrupted the woman before she could manage a reply, his own curiosity getting the better of him. “Are you one of /them/?”
“Them who?” He wasn’t in the mood for guessing games, deciding it was better to get the inevitable questions over with.
“The Selwe.”
“Do I look like an insect to you?”
“You could be a spy…”
“To what end?”
“Secret assault on the city!”
“… While at the same time guiding Laro’s army to victory?” He smirked. “A little, counter productive, don’t you think?”
“You could be winning our confidence… for a later trap…”
“Unlikely. Why bother when there are so many easier ways.”
“You confess it!”
“I confess that I am a strategist. Anyone in my position could come up with dozens of opportunities where I could have sabotaged your war. Killing the Kai before he left for example… that would have been ideal…”
// Or marching him to his death at the earliest opportunity, but I’d like to think he would see a flaw that grand before blindly walking into it… He’s soft-hearted, not an idiot. //
“Stop it, general. He’s not one of them… either by blood or sympathy.” The dean frowned in displeasure, sending the doctors away. She mustered an almost apologetic smile. “We did draw some blood, Mr. Kuja… but mostly to try and make a diagnosis…”
He slouched back on his pillow and waved her away. “I figured that from the soreness… what say the good doctors?”
“We’re waiting for Ing…”
“You doubt your expertise?”
“We… are not sure what we have found…”
“Liar.” He reprimanded gently. His arms felt strangely light, almost buoyant, as he reached up to try and smooth his hair back from his face. “Tell me? I am curious to know what you think.”
“You are aware of your illness?”
“I am.” He smirked again at her flustered state, but was soon proved out maneuvered as she produced a notebook and pencil from her pocket.
“Then you won’t mind giving a listing of your symptoms.”
Shooting Gerrik a quelling look, he closed his eyes and recited what he could remember of the past few weeks, confident that the others knew, or could extrapolate most of it without him. When done he could only shrug. “… and now, if you’d be so kind as to tell me what you’ve found?”
The dean gave him a helpless look. “Very well… when we determined there was nothing wrong with your lungs, we took a blood sample… it was… irregular to say the least.”
“Continue.” He had always had a rather morbid sense of curiosity. It had served him well in the past as he had constructed monsters from the Mist, and the dregs of Mist. Now that the creature under study was himself, there was a certain ironic amusement to it.
“Blood, well our blood -- and yours as well, we think -- is supposed to have a certain volume to it, and quantity of iron…”
“For the transportation of oxygen to muscle and tissue, yes. Red cells and white cells, I am familiar with this concept.”
“You’ve studied medicine?”
“Indeed.”
“Fascinating. Ing said nothing of that.”
“I did not see fit to tell him.”
“He’ll scold you in person then. Anyway, are you familiar with the condition of Anemia?”
“I am anemic then?”
“Severely so. Your blood cell count is unnaturally low, and those cells you have aren’t carrying enough oxygen to keep you functioning in anything but the most calm and unharried manner.”
“Fascinating.” He drew his knees up and rested his chin on them. He couldn’t help but note the look of confusion on the soldier’s face as he listened to them banter. “Conclusions?”
“A person’s blood remakes itself completely every fourteen days, it is said.” Finlay shrugged eloquently, “Yours isn’t. We don’t know why it has stopped, or why it happened so suddenly.”
“A disease of the bone, then.” Yet again his knowledge seemed to shake the woman. Idly he wondered just how advanced their medical science was. “That is… not beyond the realm of possibility. I was wondering if it would be something like that…”
“What do you mean?”
“Some genetic flaw… At first I was thinking maybe I was just reacting to the Net in some unforeseen way… but if it is this… then it wouldn’t be the Net at all…” He couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed by the simplicity of it all.
*************************
“Mail, sir.”
The messenger caught up with them as they paused for lunch, on the horizon already was a new black spire. Laro simply nodded to the man, grabbing the envelope full of papers and immediately fishing out the orders and latest assessment. The official word wasn’t anything surprising. He would have continued for the next Tower with or without guidance from home, but when he read the strategic report he was disappointed to note that it lacked it recent calm authority. The very tone of the document implied there was someone new studying the maps. The general felt a moment’s disappointment as he tossed the paper aside, knowing that it had been too much to hope for that he have a useful ally back in the castle. Instead he turned to the reports from Ibat and the college, noting that his present had arrived unhindered and in good condition.
Passing the relevant envelopes to his officers, he haphazardly tipped the remains of the packet into his lap, stirring through the random personal notes from Finlay and the others without wanting to bother with them yet, looking for a particular bundle in the mess. They only had an hour to rest and eat before moving on to the next leg of the march, and before he did he had time for one letter. If he had to choose between Masa and the dean, he would take pleasure over substance. Even sorted into haphazard stacks, he couldn’t find what he wanted. His customary packet of letters from his lover was nowhere to be found.
// Did I drop them? //
A quick search of the ground proved fruitless, and perplexed, he carefully put everything back in the packet in order to check again.
// … no letters. //
It was jarring to say the least. He couldn’t help but sigh in disappointment. The deliveryman flinched in dismay.
“They were missing when I got it, sir. I swear.”
Looking up, Laro blinked in surprise. “Excuse me?”
“The letters… I didn’t loose them. They weren’t there when I got it.”
“What letters?”
The young soldier swallowed guiltily. “The… ones that usually come all bundle up in a set? With the pretty hand writing?”
“… I see.”
“We don’t read them, sir!” The man cringed. “We just keep an eye on them… make sure they don’t get lost… I mean… they’re special…”
“Thank you… that’s a relief then.” Laro managed a smile he really didn’t feel. “Wouldn’t like to think they were scattered on a highway somewhere.”
“Oh no sir…” He shrugged, “Maybe Mr. Kuja just missed the delivery deadline and you’ll get two packs next time?”
“Yes, that’s probably it.” It was hard to take offence at people’s interest in his private life when it meant that his mail had thus far arrived with special care. He was sure once the shock had passed he would feel grateful for the humble service they had done him. He dismissed the man with a smile. Standing, Laro decided he might as well use the remaining time to do something productive. Even if the missing letters weren’t a simple accident, there was little he could do about it now.
*************************
Kuja hated to admit that he was bored. He had energy enough to be productive, so long as it didn’t require him doing more than moving around his room, and as a result he now found himself spending far too much time there.
He set his letter aside, not sure how to maintain a falsely cheerful tone for the length of it that would be convincing enough for his lover. It didn’t make sense to trouble the man with things, not when he had his own worries to deal with. He didn’t have long to ponder his forced inaction however. The Duke thoughtfully sent him a distraction for the afternoon, a present of Gerrik and a map. The still-suspicious man watched him as he studied the faithfully copied terrain and waited for inspiration to strike. He was unusually silent, and Kuja actually found himself missing their old backbiting.
“You’ve been overly generous with your respect lately, general… has the wolf been brought to bay by the idea of a tail?”
Gerrik refused to flinch at the reminder. “You told Finlay that you came from a different world… from the stars.”
“Yes.”
“Like the Selwe did.”
“Well, they came in a ship, I did not, but otherwise, yes that is an accurate assessment.”
“How.”
“Magic, of course.”
“Oh.”
Kuja put his papers down with a sigh, feeling tired already as he tucked the quilt higher about his waist. “Was there something in particular you wanted to know?”
The general fidgeted and then managed a ghost of his usual cynical smile. Whatever he had been about to ask was deferred however as a new delegation arrived. With Ing, and Finlay, the number of doctors in the room was approaching absurd. Sparing an amused look for Duke Riquoi, he refused to let the others rattle him. Choosing to ignore them, he handed his drawing back to its owner.
“Your map, sir.”
“Any thoughts?”
“None save that he should continue as he has done, he is the best judge of the terrain he faces and the scouts needed to secure it.”
“Fair enough.” Tucking the drawing in a pocket, the old man settled in a chair, clearly part of the audience rather than a principal speaker.
Feeling rather silly, Kuja looked at the rest of the new arrivals, waiting for them to speak their peace or at least sit down. The diminutive doctor looked rather serious, but given his patient and the illness, he had his reasons.
No one seemed willing to be the first to speak, so with a sigh he relented. “Prognosis, Sirs and Madams?”
Ing sighed unhappily reaching out to read the silver-haired man’s pulse more out of habit than for any other reason. “Not good, I’m afraid.”
“I’m dying then.”
“We could still find a cure.”
“There is no cure for old age.” He smiled whimsically. Now that Finlay’s guesses had been confirmed he saw no reason to deny it. The sooner the others gave up on their futile searches, the sooner they could concentrate on being productive with the time he had left.
“What do you mean, Kuja.” It was the Duke who found his voice first, genuinely curious. “You can’t be more than thirty, if anyone is in incipient danger of withering away in this room, I’d believe it was me.”
“Never the less… I do not think this is an unscheduled illness. If anything I have outlasted expectations… A man in good health may last a century, a flower is lucky to last a week, a tree may last a millennium, and a mayfly comes and goes in a day… myself…? I was expected to last maybe twenty-six, twenty-seven years… I am /old/, my lord… even if it doesn’t seem that way to you.”
Ing snorted in disbelief. “If that were the case, I’d expect a more systematic shut down, not a sudden change… as it is, if we could find you a compatible donor, you could survive indefinitely, or even make a full recovery… There’s nothing wrong with you, outside of your bones.”
“And where would you find such a donor?”
“That we do not know.”
Kuja sank back into his pillows with a sigh. “Then causes and cures are really not worth discussing, are they… how long?”
“If you behave? Maybe a week or two before you blood gives up all together.”
“In that case, I suggest you employ me to the best of your ability.” The genome smirked. “You have little time.”
*************************
Laro looked up from a hasty conference with his commanders along the edge of the burnt-out waste of a forest when someone called his name. Around them lay the remains of an ugly skirmish, hulking shells strewn like boulders as teams slowly completed the task of clearing them to the side. It was one scout patrol that would not be reporting back the Tower anytime soon. Leaving strategy and the rough map of twigs and lumps of charcoal behind, he rose to greet the unlikely looking delegation. One of his trucks had finally returned, its driver stubbornly glaring at the officer of the watch, awaiting his chance to speak.
“I’m sorry to interrupt sir, but the sergeant says he has an urgent delivery from the capital… your eyes only… I told him he could leave it with me… but…”
“I have orders from the Duke himself, sir,” he said to the sergeant. Turning to his general, “…Sir,” he repeated more respectfully.
To Laro’s surprise and delight, the gruff man reached inside his jacket and produced a carefully bundled set of letters. “With the Duke’s compliments, and an apology for the delay.”
“…Thank you. Both of you. That was uncommonly kind.” Dismissing them both, he turned back to the task of planning a safe route through the flats with a feeling of utter wellbeing.
// Riquoi didn’t have to do that… I could have waited the two weeks for a normal parcel… //
The duke had wedged a letter of his own in the tidy stack, but flipping quickly through the other envelopes, he was pleased to see that they were indeed the missing letters, and even an extra – dated two days after the post should have been sent – he would have one fewer letters to look forward to on the next mail run, but that was nothing compared to the relief of having the notes safely in hand.
// … unnecessary but still… it’s nice to know that they’re still looking out for me… even if it is a little embarrassing… //
Tucking the papers into one of his deep pockets he resolved to read them later, and signaled his scouts out into the field. The sooner they got to safe camp, the sooner he could relax with news from home before plotting the next battle.
*************************
It was rather entertaining to watch the old man set up shop bit by bit in his sitting room. Kuja had only blinked the first time he noticed the spare table that had been snuck in during one of his naps. On the second day, he had been bundled in quilts on the couch reading reports while the Duke dealt with a parade like flow of secretaries, military liaisons and bureaucrats. Laughingly he had offered to move his sick-bed to the old nobleman’s study, only to be given the man’s classic patriarchal glare. Touched, but not cowed, he had replied with a smirk before returning to his reading. By the third day, the ancient courtier had claimed his couch as well, dozing off after lunch amidst the most recent set of reports.
He wasn’t the only one seemingly determined to ‘move in’ despite the silver-haired man’s protests. The younger of Dean Finlay’s two doctors, a pretty woman named Anne, had set up a cot on the far side of the sitting room. She seemed determined to be on hand any time of day or night, despite the general consensus that the effort was futile. The doctor made for a convenient set of extra hands however, and given that he could no longer trust his own at times, he didn’t begrudge her company. After the first few hours, he even decided he liked her. She was clever in her quiet way, but also still young enough to be susceptible to teasing, unlike the older doctors.
// … Almost reminds me of one of those crazy inventor-girls from Lindblum, brainy… but nice… and wicked card players… //
At the moment they were both thankfully absent, whisked away to dinner and the hospital respectively. It left him with the least frequent of his recent nursemaids for a few hours.
Gerrik was probably hoping he would fall asleep and leave him in peace. For a while he considered humoring the man but the grumpy set of the soldier’s features reminded him for a bizarre moment of Steiner, and he started to laugh. It was impossible to explain to the general about how utterly stupid the knight had been, and what exactly had made him so fun to harass. Instead he could only wave off the sullen look and force himself to behave.
“… You really don’t want to be here, do you…?”
“I’ve never been good at dealing with sick people.”
“Heh. I know the feeling.” Kuja fussed with his quilt a moment before letting his hands go limp. He was beginning to find getting out of bed a struggle. “To tell the truth, I’m not too happy to be here either… I thought I’d be out on the front by now… ‘Die in battle,’ and all that…”
“You?! You’re kidding.”
“Sometimes it feels like I spent my whole life fighting wars… or preparing for them.” He lay back with a sigh, “It seems strange to be dying so peacefully… It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”
“I can’t see you as a fighter.” The young general’s expression was all mild astonishment. “You’re just…”
“Too ‘girly’ you think?” The silver haired man smirked wickedly. “I used magic, idiot. Do I /look/ like a boxer to you?”
“No, no I guess not.” Gerrik rested his chin on his hand. “I’ve never seen magic… just heard stories…”
“I always rather enjoyed it… the freedom of it… Not that it matters now.” He shrugged. “When Laro first told me of the Net, I thought that if there was a way around it, then maybe… damn but I hate this… I should be doing something, anything, instead of waiting to die… I had it all planned out!”
“Did you?” The soldier blinked, startled by the outburst that so closely echoed his own feelings. “All this time, you’ve been trying to set it up so that you’d have an excuse to go? Is /that/ what you’ve been maneuvering towards?”
“Didn’t you know?” Blue eyes fixed the man in place with a candid glance. “I was your ‘opportunity’ too, after all… Why else insinuate yourself with me if not to hitch a ride when the chance came?”
“I… actually… I just…” Thrown by the news, Gerrik felt foolish admitting he had actually been intending to use the man as a piece of blackmail instead of as any friendlier lever back into the war. Compared to Kuja’s more elegant and productive schemes, it seemed trite.
“Never mind. You’ll have to fend for yourself it seems. I apologize for the inconvenience my death brings you.” Kuja shrugged. “I expect you’ll find another way, you seem clever enough.”
“You’re giving up, then?” It didn’t feel right, the soldier decided as he watched his old adversary’s listless movements. The courtesan had never been one to take ‘no’ for an answer.
“I tried fighting fate once. It… didn’t work out. Why make a fool of myself a second time?”
Having nothing to say to that, the soldier could only sit in silence until the others returned to relieve him. Looking back as he left, he couldn’t help but wince at how frail looking the pale man had become.
*************************
Dust and smoke made the air almost un-breathable. Even with the damp rags knotted around his face, Laro found that the acrid smell was permanently burned into his nose. Guiding his men more by touch than by any chance of being heard above the roar of mortars he got the team heading the right direction, into a convenient alcove off the stairs and ready to set up a defense as the first of the massive-shelled drones trundled down the stairs to meet them. The Selwe definitely had a weight advantage in their charge down the steep staircase, added legs also gave them an edge when it came to footing. Meeting them head on would be a painful inevitability, but he could see no reason why to not let them waste a few dozen of their ranks in a headlong plunge to the bottom of the Tower. His regular army would be sure to give any survivors a proper welcome, and in the mean time, his specialists could continue up the stairs to face less resistance above.
The attack had proven more difficult this time. Laro couldn’t help but worry that their assault on the Tower would need to be aborted midway. Something in the movements of the opposing army was more directed than it had been before, almost as if they weren’t simply reacting to the attack, but were actively seeking ways to out maneuver him. It was an uncanny feeling, that he was being watched, studied, plotted against. Usually the insects were more predictable in their methods and movements. So far the opposing forces had refused to fall for several of his tricks, and even now seemed to be amassing for an attack.
His radio chirped a near continuous stream of reports from where it was tied to his shoulder guard. Tilting his head, he listened with half his attention while signaling his men upwards, pikes at the ready. They would have to move fast if they wanted to decommission the tower before retreating back to the relative safety of the foothills.
// No finesse this time. We’ll be lucky if we can manage a smash-and-grab job… //
Following the soldiers up the slippery stairs, he arrived in time to firmly apply his spear to the cause. Another alcove had revealed five more of their giant opponents, several of whom were pinning his men in place as the others sprinted ahead. He sighed and stepped in before an alien could skewer one of his soldier. No one would be wounded of he could help it, not when the risk of being left behind was so high. The heavy weight of his weapon easily crushed the delicate shell encasing the drone’s head, staving it inwards in a wet mess. Ichor pooled down the shell from the massive wound, liberally coating him and his captain, but with the attack diverted the man was still alive to complain about it.
“Go after the others, leave the mopping to me.”
“Yessir,” The soldier ducked up the stairs and around the last drone to rush after the others.
Taping the point of his spear against the wall to knock the majority of goo clear, Laro calmly jabbed his final opponent, making sure the insect’s attention was firmly on him and not the people scurrying up the stairs. Its shattered carcass was soon kicked down the spiraled path to join with the rest.
*************************
Carris Finlay was full of cautious good humor as she made her way through the bustle of the halls to the quieter sanctuary of the courtesan’s rooms. Despite Riquoi’s stubborn desire to be ‘on hand’ for his latest disciple, the chaos of politics and paper seemed remarkably subdued. Even with the day-to-day chores, no one seemed to forget the other occupant of the small suite, and his delicate health. She nodded to the old nobleman in greeting, but didn’t bother to disturb his impromptu meeting with his staff. Instead she let herself into the bedroom with a gentle knock to visit the man inside.
“Good morning Dean Finlay,” her student stood immediately at her approach, setting her book aside.
“He’s still asleep?”
“No, he woke earlier… but he is quite drowsy today, and has been dozing on and off… I don’t see any reason not to give him a nudge. He’d probably like the company.”
Giving the courtesan her own quick inspection, she had to agree. He didn’t particularly worse than the day before, just paler and weaker and that was to be expected.
// …and dear god and we still haven’t figured out what to tell Laro… What do we do? Continue forging letters until the end of the war? He’ll have to come back sometime… better to tell him sooner than later isn’t it? //
The idea of the general having news like that broken to him on the battlefield seemed like an extraordinarily bad idea. She had thought the man devoted to his lover before Ing had arrived to fill her in on the details. There was nothing to relish about the idea of taking away the Kai’s very reason to keep on living. If even half of Ing’s guesses about the general’s physical and spiritual recovery were correct, that was exactly what they were about to do.
// Maybe Riquoi has the right idea after all… say nothing… get all the ‘fight’ we can out of him… and then… break it to him as gently as possible… //
She frowned.
// So he’ll come home… only to find out he has nothing to come home for? Oh, marvelous…. Excellent strategy… //
It was better to worry about such things when their time came. Reaching down, she gently shook one of the slender shoulders, aware of how readily the fragile skin would bruise with her touch. “Mr. Kuja…”
“… hello.”
“Do you feel up to a little investigation for me, little one?”
“I’m an invalid, not a child… ‘little one’… bah… What do you want me to look at…?”
The dean placed her hands firmly in her pockets to resist the urge to ruffle the pale man’s loose hair. She didn’t usually have motherly impulses; it was silly to give in to them now. “I have recently received into my possession the Shard from Laro’s latest conquest. Remarkably it’s even intact…”
“Interesting.” His drawled comment made her smile.
“What’s really interesting… is that twice a day, my students have noticed that it tends to randomly emit low level burst energy, but we cannot determine why.” She shrugged thoughtfully before continuing.
“Maybe it is the Selwe trying to reestablish contact with it. Maybe it is a sympathetic response to one of the other Towers still standing… maybe something else entirely… but I remember that you seemed to have a knack with crystals from your work on the cannons… so I wondered if you would be interested in seeing it for yourself?”
“…Spontaneous activation…? Strange… I would like to see it… but it may prove difficult to convince my keepers to let me out to play…” He waved a hand at where the young doctor sat listening. “Anne here is most obstinate that I ‘save my strength’… although for what, she will not tell me.”
The dean chuckled at her companion’s sour tone. Human or not, Kuja was still the same. Ing’s assurances about the circumstance of his arrival and treatment had allayed most of her fears, if only because it made no sense that the boy could be a threat. Maybe had things been less desperate she could have had a choice to be picky. Given her options, deciding to continue to trust the courtesan hadn’t seemed like such a risk.
“Luckily for us then, the reaction doesn’t seem to have anything to do with location… outside or in the basement; we’ve observed the same effect. Your room is as good a place as any to try next.” Carris smiled at his doubtful look. “I’ll have the students set it up wherever you like, give you a chance to study it at your leisure.”
“I… will look forward to it…”
“Good, in that case, I’ll let you resume your nap while I go badger the ‘corpse’ to see what he plans to do with my budget this spring…” Leaving patient and attendant behind, she made her exit with a smile.
It was unlikely that the courtesan would discover anything of interest about the strange glow from the crystal fragment. More likely than anything, it was just tuned to the same frequency as the Selwe communication channels and so was picking of a ghost of the messages the Towers relayed back and forth. Her students would decode it eventually, but in the mean time, it couldn’t hurt to keep the man’s agile mind occupied. Morbidly, she wondered how much longer such distractions would be necessary.
*************************
The crystal was a relatively unexciting piece of rock as it was brought in carefully cradled between two scientists. A third man followed behind with a sort of tripod for the massive stone, setting up after a moment’s hesitation within reach of the bed. Still groggy from his nap, Kuja watched the hushed maneuvers in silence. The Shard was a larger cousin to the fragments he had worked with in the weeks before, a slab of mineral deposit almost the size of a dinner tray which was set up on edge in an approximation of how it must have been positioned in its Tower.
“… If everything is the same as yesterday, it will begin to flare in an hour or so…”
Curious, he nodded in agreement. “I will watch for it… thank you.”
Once they were gone he gave into the temptation to look closer, even Anne wasn’t immune. She put her book down to investigate, opening the curtains as she moved about the room to shed more light on his puzzle. The smoky white crystal was interesting enough in the sunlight, but laying his hand on it he could feel no remarkable energy patterns. It was just a rock after all, not like the source of all-memory he had threatened and been defeated by in the depth of space. Copying his gesture, the curious doctor also ran a finger along the smooth face of the slab before looking at the more irregular edges on the sides.
“It looks like it was split off something with a lateral grain, doesn’t it?”
“Geologist as well as healer?”
“I went to school…” Embarrassed at having spoken up, the dark woman blushed. “It’s just… it looks like a piece of something larger, doesn’t it? The way it fractured…”
“Who can say where the Selwe got their materials from…” He shrugged complacently. “However they came by it, we are just interested in its use… something that’s only good twice a day seems like rather a waste… and why the odd hours?” Musing he shifted his pillows to act as a prop.
“What’s so special about ten in the morning and two hours
until
“They’ll figure it out eventually, I guess.” Anne gave up on prodding the un-reactive crystal in favor of ringing the bell for a servant. “I’ll just get us some lunch while we wait?” She ignored his long-suffering grumble with professional ease, tidying up the room and retucking him into the bed before the food arrived.
The meal wasn’t the ordeal he expected it to be. For once his stomach was in a cooperative mood, or perhaps just didn’t have the strength left to complain anymore. He managed some soup and drank his tea with relative pleasure while watching his keeper daintily pick through her stew and fruit. To amuse himself he imagined her in a little sailor cap and uniform shirt of the style he had seen often on the streets of Lindblum and Trueno, deciding she’d fit right in after all. Baiting her into a quick game of cards, they spent an amusing half hour keeping score before she looked up from her hand only to blink in surprise.
“I think it’s time.”
Turning to see what she was staring at, he too was impressed with the change taking place within the surface of the massive crystal. Light seemed to be gathering and swirling, a mini aurora borealis taking place inside the smoky gem. Curious, he shifted on his bed until he was close enough to touch it once more. A tingle in his skin telling him that something more impressive than a simple lightshow was taking place. Hesitant, he ran a finger along the cool stone, uncertain of what would happen. To his surprise, the tingle only grew stronger, familiar.
// It’s not the
Looking back, he couldn’t exactly remember the grim night he had spent tending Laro’s bed side. It had been late, well after sunset when he had managed his epiphany and thus the soldier’s cure. The exact hour had never seemed important until now.
// Echos… it /is/ the
Palm pressed flat to the glowing shard, he closed his eyes trying to match his will to the stone’s weak emanations in order to better understand their nature. The riddle unfolded with a little effort. Already tuned to be used as transmitters, each of the Shards supporting the alien’s shield seemed to act as receivers not just for each other but for any energy field they came in contact with.
Natural amplifiers, they also resonated when the planet
rotated so as to be in reach of the massive life-source’s rays. Even impossibly
far as it was, the
// Alignment…? Twice every revolution of the planet… we are in proper alignment for the energy to seep through the Net… but you have to be sensitive enough to feel it. Like the Shards, or me...? //
Looking at the light dancing beneath his fingers, he couldn’t help but smile. “It’s a natural phenomenon.”
// But how is it getting this far? We’re nowhere near any of the gaps in the Net… days away from the ocean with mountains between… the front isn’t much closer… I don’t understand… is it reflected somehow? //
His companion glanced at him in surprise, breaking off her own studies to frown in worry. “How do you know it’s natural?”
“I just do… I believe it has to do perhaps with the location of the moon… and other things…” He wasn’t quite ready to admit that he was able to commune with vast reservoirs of magical energy from beyond the sky. He had enough strange looks aimed at him these days as it was.
“Is it useful do you think?”
Kuja tilted his head as he considered the doctor’s question. “Certainly it implies that if they really are communication crystals they would be receiving a lot of interference right now. Maybe we could use that as an advantage, but I expect that the Towers are shielded against outside sources…”
Reaching out with his mind, he gently tried to tap into the flickering energy; amazed when it responded to his coaxing touch. There was magic in the milky depths. Not alive itself, the Shard was a tiny conduit through which he could pull strength. He could have kicked himself for not thinking of it sooner.
// Magic, you fool… its right there… like an elixir in its purest form and without the horrible candy-syrup aftertaste… what are you waiting for? //
The genome had no more than begun to siphon off the gentle energy before the stone began to flicker erratically beneath his fingers and fell silent once more. He could have cried in frustration.
Anne pulled back in surprise. “… It stopped… I guess that was what the guys meant when they said it wouldn’t last very long…”
“It seems so.” Kuja clenched his fist against the tingle of energy he still felt in his palm, the tiny amount of power he had been able to gather before the connection had been lost. “… I guess we will have to wait another twelve hours to see it again.”
She sighed thoughtfully. “Well, it was certainly pretty, whatever it was.”
“Yes. I should definitely like to study it once more…”
// And next time, I won’t waste time asking questions… //
It wasn’t enough for a healing spell, he decided as he settled back on his pillows to rest. The droplets of magic were barely enough for anything, but they felt reassuring as they slowly fused with his tired body, filling him with a warmth he had sorely missed. He found himself drifting to sleep in spite of the thoughts flying wildly around his head. Someone, or something, had been kind enough to show him a possible way out. In twelve more hours he would see just how generous the fates would be. It was something he decided, that was definitely worth the wait.
*************************
*************************
Don’t mind me, just rushing the story right along…
--Lunar.