Story:Kings of Strife/Part 26

Part Twenty-Six
Vik awoke to a body racked with pain.

He didn’t recognize where he was, but it was clear that he was still in Shorekeep, and that several days had passed since he last was conscious. No longer was the sky a mix of tar black and fire red; it had regained its normal hue. After looking up, Vik looked down; his clothes were bruised and torn, and dried blood was caked in spots around him, but nothing else stood out as particularly alarming.

The only thing he found surprising was the fact that he was leaning onto a wall of pure darkness.

Said wall was not very impressive in height, but it was very sturdy and appeared to be very thick. It was made out of a smooth, natural stone, but it had been artificially constructed; it jutted out in the middle of the cobblestone roads, breaking right through existing buildings and breaking up some of the tiles around it. Besides himself, Vik saw a few other people huddled up onto the wall, most of them unconscious or wounded. Also, the people were all sitting next to a small stash of bread and cheese; looking down, he found that he had some near him, as well.

Things were starting to make sense to him now as he sat up straight and began to eat. Since at least one day had passed since the riot, and since there was no more raging noise and screaming in the background, it was clear to him that the riot was over. He and all of the other survivors had all be gathered by the victors of the riot – whoever they were and whatever it was that they were fighting about accomplished – and been spared, albeit somewhat coldly. Still, he was alive and he had food, so they couldn’t have been that malevolent.

Speaking of alive, it pained Vik to realize that he had no idea where Silverius was, or even if he had survived. In any case, he recognized that he had done all he could for the man, and whether he lived or died was now out of his hands. It was about time for him to separate himself from that sort of rabble, anyway.

That was what Vikcent thought to himself, but no matter how strongly he believed in this, it still pained him to have to abandon a person he had come to think of as a comrade.

"I wonder what happened and what caused that warzone," he muttered to himself as he scarfed down his food in an effort to take his mind off Silverius. Truthfully, he had known next to nothing when he arrived in Shorekeep, especially not about the area's political struggles. If anyone, he suspected Silverius would know what was going on, but it would be next to impossible for him to ask the man anything about it now.

Something told him that they had followed the two Knights into Shorekeep at this particular time for a reason. Could they have helped in what appeared to be a civil war? If so, this was another national crisis that the Serpent society had dug its ugly head into, and Vik felt obliged to cut that head off.

He finished eating and stood up with determination, but faltered and soon had to hold onto the wall behind him for stabilization. His body still rocked from the injuries he had received; no wounds were open and the sleep had been good for his recovery, but he was still heavily wounded. If anything, he wouldn't be participating in any battles for the near future.

His best lead would undoubtedly lie in this unorthodox castle that he was resting upon. It couldn't be that dangerous, for whoever resided in it took the effort to help survivors and feed them, and they were clearly victorious if they were still in the gigantic construct. It'd probably be the best and most safest way for him to find answers as quickly as possible, he reasoned.

Just as Vik turned to find his way around the obsidian wall, a juvenile voice called to him.

"H-hey, Mister? Where are you going?" Vik turned and looked to the voice's origin; there he saw a young boy in rags, leaning onto the wall like he himself was minutes ago. Of note was the multicolored hat the boy wore, which tied around his head like a scarf but left traces of his silvery-blond hair to spike out in random tufts. The boy didn't look to be harmed at all, but his face had a sleepy, inquisitive look that lended itself to cluelessness. He hugged himself loosely and a piece of cheese hung out of his mouth lazily.

"Uh," Vik answered. "I'm just going to thank the people who saved me and brought me all this food." He paused and gave some thought to the role of hapless refugee that he was supposed to be playing. The man looked to the boy and gave a weak smile. "I just havbe nowhere else to go, you know?"

"Ah... Did it take you that long to figure out what you were going to do?" Vik looked at the boy with a confused glance before he decided to speak again and clarify his point. "I mean, I was watching you for a while, and you seemed to be thinking pretty hard. Um, I guess..."

Vik scoffed and turned. "Yeah, I just... have a lot on my mind."

"Wait, please!" Vik stopped and turned again. He was starting to get irritated by the boy now; did he know something about Vik? Would he have to do something about him? Vik caught this thought and looked down in shame; even his thoughts were beginning to resemble Silverius'. That was a problem.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is... Can you tell me what was going on? Why we're all on this wall or whatever? What happened to the city?"

Now it was Vik's turn to look clueless. "What...? You mean you don't remember that huge riot that was going on... not too long ago?" He didn't trust himself to give a time frame for when the attacks had happened. "Just where have you been? Weren't you a survivor that was found and brought back here?" There was no way his hypothesis was wrong in this aspect, he knew.

The questions clearly made the boy uncomfortable, and he sat up straighter and adjusted his strange hat. "Uh, no, now that you mention it... I'd remember something like that... I think?" He scratched his head with another one of his signature dopey looks.

Vik moved a little bit closer to the boy and sucked his teeth. "Look, kid, what's your name? Did you hit your head in those riots or something?" The closer he got, the more clearly he saw the features of hte boy, and the more he recognized them. Vik was taken aback for a moment, but he couldn't pinpoint exactly why. He felt that he had seen this person before, or a person who looked exactly like him, but when he reached for the memory, it absconded from his mind's reach.

The boy looked to him in distress. "Sir, I... I don't remember any of it. I just know that this place is my home, this city I mean, and it feels like this huge black castle place ruined it. You know? I'm not sure where this feeling comes from, or what happened to get me here, but... I just feel really scared." He reached out and grabbed onto the frayed leg of Vik's pants in the moment when the man was shocked and looking at him. "You feel the same way, don't you, Mister? That's why you're going in that castle, right? I can tell, I just know it! Please, sir, take me with you! I have to know what's going on, I just have to!"

The boy was obviously passionate and bewildered by what was going on around him, but Vik was hesitant to respond to these feelings. He remembered the last time he had let some random boy who appeared helpless tag along with him, and he felt the stinging pain that the betrayal had inflicted in him.

With a flourish, Vik turned and kicked the boy's grip off himself. "No... no. I cant help you with anything right now. Trust me, kid. I... I can't risk getting you involved in what I've got to do. Sorry." He couldn't bear to look behind him, for he knew the boy had some pathetic look on his face, so he simply started running off towards the gate of the black castle.

On the contrary, instead of being hurt and saddened by Vik's hurry to leave, the boy was stricken with a burning anger that he could not explain deep within his breast. When before he was immobilized by confusion, ignorance, and fear, Vik's dialogue was enough to overthrow him into a pit of anger and aggresion at his state, and he stood with new energy. He had already lost sight of where Vik had went, so he couldn't follow him, but he balled up his fists and looked behind him, to the towering black castle.

"Fine then," he muttered to himself. "I'll... I'll just have to live for myself. I'll find what I need to know... and I'll do whatever it takes for me to do it." With this, he started to walk towards the entrance of the castle himself. From behind the boy, a shadow seemed to gain a dark, meaningful smile before disappearing.

*****

"You're too late. Lady Vainia just left for some business." The reply of the cocky, smirking guard failed to provoke Vik into anger as was intended, but it did plenty to confuse him.

"Lady Vainia...? Who is that? Is she the leader of all this?" He couldn't help how ignorant he sounded. In response to Vik's question, the guard bellowed with laughter loud enough to gain looks from his fellow guardsmen.

"What, you mean to tell me you don't know who Lady Vainia is? Everybody knows who she is, she's the leader of Fifth Brine! Well, of what used to be Fifth Brine." When he mentioned how this faction apparently no longer existed, an unmistakable tone of bitterness dripped from the sentinel's tone of voice.

Vik looked around at some of the gawking people in the foyer of the castle and decided to play along in the hopes that it would lead to more information. "Ohhh, that Lady Vainia. I just... I've been out of the loop for a little while. Isn't she the one who, uh, y'know...?"

"Oh, the girl who survived Phenicks?" Vik started; now that was a place that he knew. What did this girl have to do with that ruined city? "Yeah, everyone says that she's the only one who escaped unharmed from there, and she managed to gather all the survivors and take over the organization in a jiffy. Nobody knows what really happened, though."

"No way..."

"Yeah, way," the guard sneered. He was apparently taking joy in Vik's lack of knowledge. "Anyway, if you wanted to see her, she just left. She was only here long enough to get a report from her Knight and give a speech to us before leaving." The tall guard's smirk had morphed to a love-struck grin as he spoke of her. "She was beautiful," he muttered breathlessly.

Vik gave this no attention. "Do you have any idea where she went?" This Lady Vainia sounded dangerous and it was highly possible she had some sort of ties to Ouroboros; at the very least, Vik had to get to her and see if he had to do anything. His sense of duty was startling to tingle stronger and stronger.

"No," the guard whispered. He was still looking dazed from the thought of Vainia's presence. "She wouldn't tell anyone where she was going, but she said she'd be back within a few days."

Vik resisted the urge to swear to himself. He didn't have the time to wait a few days, especially if this Lady was as dangerous as she sounded. He thought back to the conversation that had just transpired and picked out a possible clue. "What about this Knight," he inquired. "Who is he? Did he leave, too?"

Now the guard was starting to get suspicious and looked to Vik with a shady look from the side of his eyes. "No, he didn't. But what's it to you? Aren't you asking an awful lot of questions for a refugee? What's it to you?"

He was on the spot now, and idly scratched at the beard growing on the side of his face. "I... want to join you guys." The guard looked unconvinced for a second before Vik continued. "Fifth Brine, I mean. Is it too late for me to join? I want to fight for Lady Vainia's sake, too."

The guard still looked suspicious, but he was clearly beginning to loosen up. "Well, you won't be doing much fighting, at least not after what happened last week." Vik mentally noted that the riot must have transpired at least a week ago. Had he really been resting that long?! "Lady Vainia talked about some plans to take down some federal armories and take back the country, or something like that, but I wasn't paying much attention, honestly. But anyway, if you really wanna enlist, just go on ahead." Now the guard’s smirk returned with extra enthusiasm. "I must warn you, though; every new recruit has to see the Knight, personally. That's why you were asking about him, right? Well, if you've really got the balls to risk your life like that, go ahead." The helmeted guard's chest swelled at the thought of how 'dangerous' his job was. "Not like a refugee like you has anytihng better to do with your life, huh? Hahaha! Go on ahead, wall-clinger." With this, the guard slapped Vik on the back with his rifle and shoved him further inside the dark hall.

Around him swarmed various people coming in and out of the castle, but Vik shuffled forward and felt completely alone. He was consumed in his thoughts and barely realized where he was going. From what the guard had said, this Lady Vainia was alarming at best and an international criminal at worst. No matter how he looked at it, to let a link to Ouroboros escape his grasp when she was so clearly in the wrong was absurd and he knew that was destined to take advantage of this situation. It was his ego that told the former soldier that this task was within his jurisdiction, and his ego that gave him the confidence he needed to succeed, but it was his pure sense of justice that made him truly believe that he was working for the good of the world.

Once he had time to figure his goal out, Vik finally realized that he was lost in the castle. The mass of people that had been around him when he was wandering near the foyer had vanished; he had likely bypassed them when he was blindly walking in thought. He scratched the wild mass of hair on his head as he stopped to think about his next move.

"So you have finally awoken." The voice seemed to be disembodied and to have come from nowhere; Vik started and looked around him in alarm. “Do not distress. I am here only to offer assistance." This statement came with the sudden appearance of a person from the shadows of the hallway. Vik looked at the man with surprise.

The speaker was a man wearing bright, baggy clothes. Unlike every person Vik had seem so far in the area, the clothes of the man were not ragged, torn, or of muted color. Indeed, the first adjective that came to Vik’s mind when he saw the man’s wardrobe was ‘colorful’; he was wearing a green and red jacket, dark green cargo pants, red socks, and white sneakers. What surprised the soldier the most, however, was the familiarity of the man. Although he couldn’t remember meeting this person before, something about the man’s smiling face and disheveled blond hair reminded him of someone. Worst of all, the feeling Vik was getting from this man was one of unmistakable dismay and hesitation. He wanted to run away as fast as he could, but that wouldn’t solve anything. With a deep breath, he stood his ground.

“…Who are you?”

“Think of me as… a benefactor. I act simply to help you in your tasks.” The man’s smile was slick and almost rehearsed; his bright red eyes looked almost unnatural, but betrayed no hostility.

Still, no matter how trusting the man looked, Vik had not an ounce of trust for him or anything he was about. If anything, he was on edge and alarmed; his muscles, still weak and sore from the riot, tensed and had him primed for whatever action he could take, within reason. He looked around him, even more aware of the fact that he was alone and far from any other person in the castle, if the complete silence around him was any indication. The structure was fairly new and probably haphazardly constructed; who knew how many winding passages it had, or if this one actually led him anywhere?

“Alright then, Mr. Benefactor.” Vik decided he would take this opportunity with a grain of salt, but would use it as an opportunity all the same. “If you’re really here to help me, why don’t you show me the way to Lady Vainia’s Knight? You know where his chambers are at, right?”

The blond man looked at him with an odd, almost blank look for a second before responding. “If that is what you wish.” He started to walk abruptly, prompting Vik to begin after him in an awkward run, but before long the benefactor stopped n his tracks and turned to Vik. “What are you going to do?”

“What?”

“After you see the Knight. What are you going to do next?”

“Uh… That’s none of your business, man.” Now Vik was really alarmed; what kind of person was he dealing with? Could this be a member of Ouroboros who had found him to finish the job? The soldier’s fists visibly tightened. He was ready for a fight, now.

“You are my business.” The enigmatic man continued to smile and look at Vik blankly, despite his increasingly alarming words. Vik was frozen in place and completely indecisive on what his next move should be. He wasn’t strong enough to confidently start a fight with this man, not in his current condition, but running from him would most definitely get him hopelessly lost within the castle. That was also discounting the possibility that the man was leading him into a trap that would spell certain death. He gulped and looked into the jacket-clad man’s red eyes. It looked like complying was his only reasonable path to take at this point.

“…I’m just gonna let that go. C’mon… I’ll talk while we walk.” After a moment of comprehension, the man turned and continued down the dark corridor, and Vik followed. “Right, well, I’m trying to find the Knight, and after that, I’ll enlist in whatever sort of militia they’ve got running here. Not much else for me to be doing.” That veil would suffice.

The blond man turned and looked at Vik, but continued to walk. “So you won’t try to get your Crystal back, or even get back in touch with the other Crystal holder?”

“…!” Vik froze once again, and the man turned to look at him. His smile had slithered away. “What? How do you know about that… Who are you?!” He was sure of his suspicions now; this was undoubtedly an Ouroboros agent.

“I am a benefactor working for the sake of the Crystals.”

“Grr… That benefactor shtick is bullshit and we both know it! How do you know about those things? What was that you said about Silverius earlier, huh?”

The blond man looked to him with the same blank, lifeless look. “My identity is worthless. I told you already, I exist for the sake of the Crystals. I know anything that has to do with them. I know everything that has to do with them. Is that satisfactory?”

“Are you mocking me right now, asshole?” The soldier was starting to get irritated, but the still unnamed blond’s mood did not change in the slightest. He didn’t say anything in response to Vik’s inquiry, and this only frustrated Vik even more. Still, his silent response was clear, and Vikcent took a deep breath and attempted to rein in his frustrations. Getting angry wasn’t going to solve anything with this man. “Let’s try this again. What do you know about Silverius?”

“I know that he is alive.”

“Ohhh… Oh, thank God.” Vik sank to his knees in relief. He was genuinely happy that the man had survived, although it did little to help his current situation. Slowly, he picked himself back up and brushed some dirt off his ruggedly damaged pants. “What about the Knights we fought? What happened to them?”

“They separated, but neither of them are in this city anymore.” The blond’s answers, although given in a matter-of-fact and honest tone, were as vague and misleading as ever.

“Dammit… Oh well, I guess it’s good that they’re not coming after me anymore, at least for right now.” Although Vik was somewhat relieved by this news, the blond took his response as odd, and tilted his head slightly to look at the bulky soldier with confusion.

“Are you not going to ask me to guide you to them? Do you not want to retrieve your Crystal?”

“I…” The soldier had opened his mouth to talk, and let one word slip past his lips before he trailed off and looked down in thought. As tempting as it would be to chase after his Crystal – he was unknowingly referring to the artifact as if it were his now, all the time – he knew it would be foolish, if not suicidal. He barely survived the last encounter with the Lance Knight, and to follow after her again would not be in his best interest. Besides, he thought to himself, there was a new challenge in front of him now; this Lady Vainia had to be stopped. It felt good for his agenda to involve something other than a Crystal, for once.

Vik looked to the blond man with newfound conviction. “No, I’m not going to retrieve it. Not now. I’ve found something that requires my attention more at the moment. It’d probably be less dangerous, to-whoa!” The interjection came with him ducking to the ground and rolling away. The space he had been occupying seconds before had been disturbed by a quickly drawn thin sword that had sliced through the air, aiming for his neck. As he sat on the ground, starting to breath heavily, Vik looked to the blond man with wide eyes. What had previously been a reassuring face of trust and good intentions had been replaced with a darkly determined face; still it boasted blank red eyes and an unmoving mouth, but somehow the mood on his look was much more grim than before.

“How disappointing. I’d hoped you would be a better candidate for the Crystal host than the other one. I am mistaken once again.” The blond stood up straight, slashing his blade to the side, and pointed to Vik with a hardwood scabbard that had moments ago held the sword. He hadn’t even noticed it on the man’s person. “Stand up. If you won’t act in the sake of the Crystal, you will not be allowed to live.”

The soldier found himself struck with crippling fear in the face of this threat. Now that the man had a sword, and was fast enough with it to almost decapitate Vik without him realizing it, there was no chance he would be able to fight him and win. Whatever he had said wasn’t the right answer, apparently, and now it looked like he was going to pay for it. “W-wait, I take it back, just listen to me for a second, okay? I’ll, uh, I’ll find the Crystal later, alright? Whoa!” The man had stabbed in Vik’s direction, and with a mighty heave, he managed to push himself off the ground and launch into the air behind him, dodging the attack. The evade was clumsy, and he only managed to land on his behind and hurt himself. “D-damn..!”

“You’ve already lost possession of your Crystal, to Ouroboros, no less… And I wasn’t able to stop it in time. There is to be no further use to your life if you won’t help my goals… Die.” The blond spoke simply, but it was this bluntness that terrified Vikcent. He raised his blade again, and pounced forward to impale Vik with it. He wouldn’t be able to dodge again.

The advance of the blond was immediately halted in midair with a gross cracking sound. Vik looked at the scene with fear that soon mixed with disgust, and he turned away instinctively. The lunging man had been bashed clean in half at the waist; the weapon that performed the deed was a wide broadsword, but the impact had been so quick and powerful that it smashed his spine and any organs in the way more than it ripped apart skin, with an end result of separating the two halves of his body and leaving behind only an elongated ribbon of crushed skin. The gruesome victim was tossed to the other side of the corridor and smashed to the wall with a wet squish.

Vik was still frozen in awe, and his stomach threatened to flip itself and erupt vomit at any moment. He nervously held in his bile and looked across the scene with wide, darting eyes. Although the attack from the newcomer had not actually cut the blond in half, it apparently forced out at least a pint of blood from him, and he lay on the floor squirming and spitting out more blood. His lower half was not moving at all. It was strange how the man wasn’t screaming or at least crying out in pain; the wound must have hurt terribly. The more he thought about it, Vik couldn’t comprehend any of what had happened to the man. How was he still conscious? Where were his screams? How was he still alive?

“I hear there’s a new recruit coming and he doesn’t show for an hour, so of course I go looking for him. Then, right outside of my personal chambers, I find some piece of shit about to kill an innocent bystander. How odd is that, huh?” The deep, leisurely voice came from the newcomer to the scene, the one who had somewhat brutally stopped the blond in his tracks. Vik slowly turned to look at the man, and was greeted by a tall, armored person who was strongly built. He had long, flowing red hair, and a deep frown on his face. A second sword in his off hand was resting on his shoulder. The redhead was looking down at Vik, but when the two’s eyes met, he looked to the side, at the still twitching blond.

“Some people just don’t know when to call it quits, huh?” He lowered the second blade and started to walk towards the body. Seeing the approaching swordsman, the blond started trying to move with even more energy than before, but found himself hopelessly immobile.

“I will return, and I will find you again! You will submit, or you will die! They cannot be allowed to have the Crys-”

“Shut the hell up already.” The blond’s words were immediately silenced with a broad slash from the flat end of the redhead’s right sword, which fell decisively and smashed the blond’s head like an overripe piece of fruit. Blood exploded from the attack and splattered flamboyantly all over the swordsman’s body. “Ahh… Now that’s the sound I like to hear.” Vik, now visibly trembling, lost control and finally turned to his side, letting loose a quick waterfall of vomit from his stomach. The cheese tasted much worse on its second trip through his taste buds.

After his retching was over, Vik crawled away from his mess and the bloody scene and curled up at a wall. He was sweating and shaking, his mind racing at what had just happened and what the man’s last words meant. Hearing that he was now free to interact with the soldier, the redhead turned and let both blades rest on his shoulders. The murderer looked down to Vik with blazing, almost hungry blue eyes and a sly smile.

“So, I hear you’ve come to join my forces?”

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