The Forgotten Zodiac

Ike frowned, considering Soren's question and remembering that, thanks to Elincia, he didn't have Ragnell. Casting a sidelong glance at his wife, he nodded. "Yeah, I'll come. Where is it again?" He asked. When Soren reminded him, he nodded again. "Mostly likely fight down there, other than from that assassin guy, is going to be in a bar. It's not like a sword would've been much use there anyway." He scanned the three who'd be accompanying him and looked back at Elincia. "You okay if I go, Elli?"

Elincia pondered the question for a moment, a troubled frown on her face, before giving her consent. "I suppose I'll be fine. You just... be careful, all right?" she removed her arm from his and reached to take the basket that Ike was carrying. "Just sit the other things down right here," she said, indicating her other purchases in Ike's arms. "I'm sure Bastian and Kieran will be along soon enough to hold them until you return. Don't tarry too long, okay?" she requested.

Soren massaged his temple and glanced up at Ike, giving the Commander a look that read 'we've 'tarried' long enough just standing here...' and sighed. "Rest assured that nothing will happen to your husband, Queen Elincia. That's what I'm for," he said. He made a vauge 'let's go' motion and set off into the crowd towards their destination, trusting the others to follow.

"Yes, dear." Ike kissed his wife on the cheek and ran off into the city after Soren. Marche and Syl both nodded to her and also headed off into the crowd after the mage. After about twenty minutes of brisk walking, they arrived at the area of town in question.
It didn't take them long to navigate their way to the bar, if it could be called that. The building was run down, filthy, and barely classified as a bar. Despite that, however, it was the building Lucia's spy network had pointed them too. With a few sidelong glances, they entered the building and the group approached the man who appeared to be running the chaos. "'Cuse me," Ike hailed the man. "Could you direct us to the room of a man we think is one of your customers?" He proceded to provide a description on what they knew of the assassin, with added help from Marche and Syl.

The bartender sat down the mug he'd been wiping off to eye the newcomers out of his one good eye. He grunted and said gruffly, "You customers or what? I don't serve no one that isn't interested in serving me." He pointed to the door. "Either git out of here or take a seat. I don't care who it is what's in my bar and it ain't none of your business niether. However, my maids have a bit more of a loose tongue and if'n ya tip 'em right..."

Soren had a few choice words that he'd liked to have said to the man, but he held his tongue in check. Bastian may have said something, if only because Ike was the King, but Soren knew Ike, and knew that, as a mercenary, they'd delt with much, much worse. Now that he thought about it, Shinon was worse. This bartenders sins only seemed greater because Ike was now a King - but the man obviously didn't know that.

"...I guess we'll take a seat, then?" Soren grumbled, looking to the other three.

Syl shrugged and nodded, directing the four of them over toward a table in a corner of the room, quite near the door. The bar made him edgy; there were too many drunks on the verge of belligerence. Despite how close they were to finding the person who was going after Mewt, or perhaps because of it, Syl was really in no mood to be caught in a bar fight.
Marche moved in behind him and sat down, not for the first time feeling slightly guilty that he was unable to pay for his share. However, until perhaps today, they'd had no money to pay with. Now, though Marche didn't know it, there were economic reasons why he shouldn't be blowing Ivalician money to make his conscience feel better. He sat down in a chair across from Ike and held a hand up, waving a barmaid over.

Soren insisted that Ike go ahead and sit while the mage took a quick glance around the room for their quarry. Not recognising the assassin, he sat down with a small sigh. Lucia's depiction had been pretty accurate, but Soren could not pick the man out. Despite that, he felt as though he was missing something here... he shook his head to clear it and tried to figure out what he wanted to order as the barmaid came over.

The maid came over, a wide smile glued to her face. "'Ello there, gents. What cin I git fer you today?" She leaned her elbows on the corner of the table, smiling particularly at Soren and Ike. They looked richer than the other two did.
Ike sat up straight, leaning back in his chair to avoid looking straight down the girl's shirt. Laying a gold coin, something she wasn't likely to see in five years, let alone from a random customer in the bar, on the table and sliding it over to her, Ike smiled at her with all the appropriate charm he could muster. "Actually, I was wondering if you could give me some information. I'm looking for someone, you see." He proceded to give a brief description of the assassin to her in the hopes that it would ring a bell. "We heard he was staying here, and we were hoping you could direct us to his rooms..." He vaguely informed himself that he sounded like an idiot noble, but it was this girl. He hadn't been engrained in city slums for any significant period in his life, and they did make him a little uncomfortable. Especially now that he was king of the nation.
To everyone's shock, she sneered and recoiled from table. "Oh. So yer that group, eh?" She crossed her arms behind her back and shook her head at them. After that, her eyes widened in shock, and the maid looked at Ike again. "Yer the bloody king, then!" The woman hesitated slightly before pushing forward with her comments. "If ya don't mind mah sayin', milord," she paused slightly here and looked directly at Syl, upper lip curling in disgust. "It's bloody shameful the way they walk around, like they're as good as the rest of us."
Ike's gaze widened in shock; but, before he could say anything to prevent her talking, she pushed forward. "I 'eard the parents don't even marry, jist 'ave their fun and leave the chilren for the res' of us ta deal wif. Shockin' the way they do it! The Goddess 'erself tried to stop 'em, but some people... Just one drink too many and 'eir at it," her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "Some of 'em 'ave done it right 'ere, in this very place!" She straightened and made to turn around; the coin now safely in her possession. "I'm sorry, milord; but I ain't talkin' with 'em in here." She looked at Syl and, this time, Soren, pointedly, and turned around to leave.
Syl had straightened in his seat as she spoke, growing more and more uncomfortable as she repeatedly glared at him. When she finished with that ultimatum, he kicked his chair back and stood up, taking a deep breath. "I'm not feeling too well. I think it's the smoke; I just need some fresh air." He turned around and moved out of the inn, keeping his back ramrod straight and his hands carefully unclenched, presentation perfect, until he got out of the building. His political training hadn't been for nothing.

Soren, on the other hand, didn't exactly have political training. He sat there for a moment longer before rising, muttering a "by-your-leave" to Ike and making a beeline for the door. He didn't care about the looks he received from the other bar-goers as he slid past them and went outside.

The air seemed much lighter outside of the bar, but the mage still felt a weight bearing down upon his shoulders. His stomach was twisting in on itself and he could feel the sweat of nerves on the back of his neck. To avoid making himself look more disheveled by pacing back and forth, he found a crate to set himself upon. One hand drifted up to press onto his forehead, concealing the red brand underneath.

He didn't really register that he had been accompanied in his exit until he glanced up to see that he'd sat across from Syl. He stared at the boy for a moment, a question forming in his mouth, before he realized that that question could just as easily be returned and he banished it from his mind. Shifting uncomfortably, he lowered his hand from his forehead and brushed his bangs over the mark, then stared at the other end of the street, trying to forget Syl was there.

Syl, following nearly the exact same thought process as Soren, did not inquire either. Instead, he offered an explanation for their behavior that didn't require either of them sharing the truth. "It's probably a good thing we left. She'll assume we were those people she was talking about, and she'll give Marche and Ike the information they need." He leaned against the wall, still not looking at Soren.
After about twenty minutes of waiting, the two commanders exited the building together, looking both disgruntled and disappointed. "He was there, but he left." Marche elucidated. "The girl said he paid them, all the workers, not to talk about him. He gave them a story to tell if anyone did ask. Apparently, he left today, and she didn't think he'd be back. That's why she told Ike and me what she did." The commander looked at Syl closely, but he didn't say anything. This wasn't the time or the place.
Ike offered Soren a hand up and gestured back the way they came. "I don't think we'll find him down here, today. Let's go back to the others." He started down the street with the other three, ready to be back to his wife as quickly as he could.

Meanwhile, the others were quite enjoying themselves in the upper market. Kieran had a knack for drawing the attention of others, and his adriot skills for story-telling had currently earned him a small crowd. Not small in number, but size. The children flocked around him, giggling delightedly as he told them stories about being a Crimean knight.

Leanne stood nearby and allowed the little beorc to come say hello. Leanne didn't know much of the modern tongue, but that one word she could say, and she returned their greetings politely. Smiling, she turned to her brother.

"See them all, Reyson? Aren't they so sweet?" she asked. She looked up as a particularly loud child ran over to join the group.

"Captain Kieran! You're in town today! Why didn't you come by yet?" he yelled, running from halfway across the square. Kieran laughed and waved at him.

"I was getting there, Henry! Come, join me! I was about to tell your favorite story!"

Henry was barely three steps along to Kieran when the mud on the bricks reached up and wrapped around his bare feet. Before he could jerk his feet up, a man stepped up behind him and wrapped an arm around the boy's chest. Despite the hot weather, there was a scarf wrapped around his face and rendering his mouth and nose invisible. His dark brown eyes were just barely visible above the dark green cloth and straight, black hair streamed back from his head. A long, thin sword, like one of Marche's, hung from his waist; and a knife was in his hand. The same knife was pressed to the boy's throat. "I need the fake prince, Mewt Randall, to step forward now," he spoke into the now-existing silence. "The rest of you will now drop your weapons, if you wish for the child to live." The blade pressed closer to the boy's throat and a trickle of blood slid down Henry's throat. Fortunately, the boy had had the sense not to struggle and thrash. With a blade that sharp, any unexpected movements could be dangerous.
Mewt spun around when he heard the man's voice and the short screams that had accompanied his initial arrival. With a glance to Bastian, he stepped forward from the stall he'd been browsing and into the square. "I'm here. You can put the child down; there's no reason to bring him into this."

Kieran's expression froze on his face as sudden terror clutched at his throat. Gathering himself quickly so as to not alarm the children standing around him by appearing weak or afraid, he stepped foreward, slowly, putting himself protectively between the young group and the assassin.

"Princess Leanne, Prince Reyson. Stay behind me," the knight said, his voice low as he watched the assassin carefully, making sure that Henry would not be hurt. Any false move from the assassin would probably result in the man losing his head via Kieran's axe. The knight did not yet draw his weapon, for fear of provoking the assassin, but he did not cast it aside, either.

Bastian watched Mewt carefully. The Count's hand drifted to his cloak, feeling the spine of his tome just beneath. He knew he could fire off a spell from here and catch the assassin in it, but so too would he catch Henry. He was aware of a terrified squeal behind him, and forced that charactaristic smile onto his face, trying to exude calm. "Be at ease, my Queen. Kieran and I will see to this."

The assassin tensed his jaw and gestured at Kieran with his free hand. "Drop the axe, knight boy. You put the axe down, or I'll hurt the boy. I wouldn't have to kill him. A finger, maybe." He grabbed Henry by the wrist and pulled his arm out straight so Kieran was forced to see the boy's fingers. "I've heard it's very difficult to function without a thumb. Can't work a decent trade, can't use weapons, there'd probably be some bullying. I could really mess him up." He looked down at the boy and tugged on his arm. "You're right handed, aren't you?" he inquired, hoping the boy would squirm to make this easier for him. People always responded to squirming children.
Mewt stepped further out into the square, holding out his arms to show that he didn't have any weapons. The only thing he was carrying was the leather book from before, but it was closed, and he had made no move to open it. "Stop it! You don't need to hurt a child to settle something between the two of us." His voice stayed level and calm, though his heart was absolutely racing. "Put the child down."
The assassin flicked his gaze from Kieran to Mewt and shook he head. After a brief pause, he nodded. "Your friends drop their weapons, over there." He pointed a space in the abandoned square, with no people around it. "I'll put the kid down. You're really the only one I want. It's just selfish of you to keep this going. Let me kill you; and everyone, including me, will be happier."
Mewt straightened, took a deep breath, and nodded. "Kieran, Bastian, anyone else here who is armed," he said, including the bystanders in his sentence. "We have a deal. You're- you're right, you know. It is just selfish, but I don't want this any more. Everyone around me gets hurt because of a legacy I never asked for. Put the boy down, and we can just finish this. It can all be over."

Kieran hesitated, but did as he was told. He caught movement from the corner of his eye and saw that it was Bastian, calmly taking out his tome. "Lucia," the Count said, "We'd best comply." With that, Bastian moved to the indicated space and laid down his tome.

Kieran sat his weapon on the ground and slid it towards the assassin with a kick. It was obvious that the knight was not going to move away from the group of children he was protecting, but he had still pretty much complied; his axe was far out of his grip.

"Let him go now," Kieran said, his tone livid. He crouched slightly and held out his arms. "It's all right, Henry. Come to me," he said.

Henry whimpered and looked up at the assassin, tugging slightly against the man. Once all the weapons had been deposited in the square, he found that the man's grip on him relaxed, and he pulled away and ran to Kieran, leaving only Mewt and the assassin in the square.

Lucia nodded and removed her scabbard along with her sword. She had no intention of drawing her sword to then throw it, that would probably just make this assassin more dangerous. Her sword clanged on the stones on top of Bastian's book and she held out her arms to signify a lack of weapons. No one else in the crowd moved forward to relieve themselves of weapons, but that was fine. None of them were in the assassin's view.
The assassin did slowly release Henry, though the boy's squirming earned him a slightly deeper cut on his neck. The man replaced his knife and walked toward Mewt as the prince walked toward him.
When they were too close to safely separate, Mewt spoke again. His voice, though soft and quiet, carried across the square. "I'm sorry, you know. It's my fault, my lack of talent. If I had more control, finesse, you might survive. You'd go to jail; you'd probably get life in prison. I'm not, though. I'm not that capable. If you hadn't threatened a child, too, I might try harder." The assassin frowned, visibly confused by his target's monologue. He reached for his sword, preparing to draw and strike when Mewt's steps had fully closed the distance. "The thing is, you did. You not only threatened but harmed a child. He was innocent. Unrelated. That means, it's over for you." Before the assassin could rise to that threat with a weapon, Mewt was standing maybe six inches from him. They both tensed and moved to strike but, surprisingly, Mewt's hit landed first. <b>"Holy."</b>
Everyone in the square felt the strength of that spell, inside their chest, inside their bones. Every light source intensified; and, briefly, the only visible figures were Mewt, with his hand on the assassin's cheek, and the assassin, sword half-drawn. The light continued to intensify until nothing was visible; and then, almost immediately, the light disappeared. It had all happened in seconds.
The light cleared; and, as everyone looked around to review the situation, Mewt was standing with his hand in midair. The assassin was gone; but, aside from his clothes, his belongings were still there. The katana, the knife, and the Angel Ring all lay on the cobblestones. The strength of the spell had destroyed all non-enchanted items, and the ones that hadn't been ruined had likely been stripped of their power.
Mewt knelt and picked up the ring and glanced up at Elincia. Shaking his head subtly, he walked over to Henry and knelt down, meeting the child's eyes gently. "I didn't expect you to be that brave. I'm sorry that had to happen." He looked at the boy's neck, and guilt flashing in his eyes. Then, before Henry could move away, the prince licked his thumb and wiped it across the kid's neck. The cut healed under Mewt's finger, and the blood dried on the kid's neck. "Just wipe the blood off, and no one will ever have to know this happened." Mewt stood, nervously glancing at Kieran. He'd  never been as popular as Marche, but he knew better than to leave the child bleeding. He spun on his heel and strode toward Elincia with the ring in his hand. He extended the ring toward Elincia with his hand flattened. "Elincia, Queen of Crimea, I, Mewt Randall, Crown Prince of Ivalice, offer you this ring, one of seven with the ability of non-instigated auto-resurrection, as payment for services rendered over this period of six days and what may come in the future." His tone was strictly formal, which made it obvious the politically inclined there that Mewt wasn't offering in a way that could be refused. This was his way of leveling the paying off the debt he owed them.

Henry shuffled closer to Kieran and the knight picked him up and stood, reassuring him that he was safe. Other than the boy's sniffling and repitition of the words "I was scared," the square was still quiet. Every eye followed Mewt as he approached the Queen, and every ear paid heed to the words the prince spoke.

Slowly, Queen Elincia nodded and extended her hand, allowing him to place the ring in it. "Thank you, Prince Mewt Randall. I can but humbly accept," she said with all the cordial air required of a queen.

As the tenseness of the past few moments slowly diffused, Bastian knelt and picked up his tome. He dusted off the book and returned it to his cloak, then retrieved Lucia's sword and took it to her.

"So is he gone, then?" Kieran asked suddenly, turning to Mewt.

Lucia accepted her sword back with a smile. "Thank you, Bastian." She returned the scabbard to her belt and looked over to Elincia, eyes lighting on the ring she know held. The noblewoman moved over to her sister and looked over her shoulder with interest. "Is that it? The ring that brought him back from the dead?" It did fit the description she'd been given of the ring. The front was long, nearly three-quarters of an inch and made of an angel's body. The back and sides were made of the wings on that angel, which tapered to just under a quarter of an inch. Colorwise, it was a plain silver color, though the material had worn much too little to actually be silver. "Is it heavy? Cold? What does it feel like?"
Mewt nodded back and breathed heavily as the weight of what had just happened settled down onto him. He stayed silent and out of the way, as difficult as it was with everyone watching him, until Kieran asked him that question. "Is he go-" He froze in confusion for a second until he realized that Kieran didn't actually know. "I'm sorry; I thought that was obvious. He's dead." He took a deep breath again as he realized what had been done. What he had done. "I killed him. Now he's dead."

Bastian smiled and nodded at Lucia, before moving over to join Kieran in reassuring the children that they were safe.

Kieran listened to Mewt carefully, then nodded. "I thought so. I just... needed to make sure," he said, holding Henry a little bit closer. He murmured something to Bastian and the Count nodded, then Kieran walked off, apparently carrying Henry home.

Elincia looked up as her sister came over, then offered to let her hold the ring. "It's hard to discribe..." she said. "I trust you to hold it for a moment. See for yourself."

Carefully, as if she had been afraid to move before, Leanne came foreward and stood by Mewt. "<i>Are you all right?</i>" she asked quietlly.

((Shall Kieran meet our four on their way back? I don't care whether or not he has Henry with him.))

Lucia took the ring gently and gasped with the feel of it. The ring was physically unsurprising, weightwise, but, considering the power it contained, seemed overly light. The material was smooth and hard. Really, apart from the known importance of it, it felt normal. Except that it didn't. There was a slight pull to the ring, as if it were gently tugging at everything around it and putting that weight into your hand. "Wow. That's strange." She carefully held the ring back out to Elincia since she was done with her investigation of the new item.
Mewt jumped when Leanne approached him, having not heard her come up behind him. "Oh! Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. It's not the first time I've seen people die. This was clean, compared to most of them." Only part of that was true, however. He had seen people die, it had been fairly clean, but he certainly wasn't fine. There was a big difference to killing inside an engagement and killing outside one, if only in mindset.

Leanne fluttered her wings slightly, tilting her head at Mewt. "<i>I can sense that you are not speaking the whole truth,</i>" she said.

Elincia nodded, taking back the small ring. She inspected it for a moment or two longer, then tucked it safely away. "I suppose Ike and the others will be joining us soon, then? Word travels fast about the market. They'll soon hear what happened."

The young Queen's words were true. In fact, at this very moment, someone had found the King and the others and was telling them, quite animatedly, what had happened.

"So Henry came running to me, and as soon as he was clear Mewt... I don't know exactly how to say this... he just obliterated the man!"

Kieran had stopped the quartet in their tracks, so unless they pushed him along, he could keep them away for quite a while. "I took Henry home, then - he's fine, I believe, just a little shaken. And then--"