FFV: Toki no Hourousha (The Wanderer of Time)
Chapter 9: Missing Links

     Stupid, stupid, stupid...
     A fugitive burst through the bushes into a clearing lit only by leaf-filtered sunlight which stank so strongly of black chocobos that he hoped the stench would throw the dogs off his trail. It was damn stupid of him to poison his victim with distilled hiryuusou sap instead of something with a less distinctive scent; the venom's acrid musk could be masked in something strong like whiskey, but only for so long... and he had yet to drop the poison-ring in his possession. To leave it behind would link the murder of his victim to the very thing he was trying to protect, and she had not the slightest idea of his current personal mission. Hell, she still didn't know it was he that killed Geilin.
     He came to Crescent intent on getting rid of a man who bore a threat to the most important thing in his life, and he succeeded as he had so many times in the past. Except this time his victim had lackeys waiting to attack at a moment's notice, and they were chasing him with the intent of revenge. A quick survey of the clearing awarded no place to hide and no river or stream to toss the ring in for later retrieval... the only option now was to press onwards.
     After a moment of silence to discern how far away his hunters were, the assassin carefully stepped through the leaf-littered area. The stench of the local birds only grew worse as he proceeded across the enclosure, bringing to his mind the rather unpleasant conclusion that the area was a favored hatching ground. The forest floor seemed to soften underfoot, causing the man to pause in confusion at this new development, and he cursed himself when it crumbled underneath his weight.
     When Benjiro returned to consciousness the first thing on his mind was a vague memory of having hit his head before, and half-expected one of his crewmen to come up into his field of vision and rebuke him for his clumsiness on the topgallant yard. Yet all he could see was faintly filtered sunlight streaming through the hole he had fallen through so high above.
     He lay still as he tried to grasp his exact location and position. Thankfully, he could still feel all his limbs save for a broken arm that could be mended with a little patch-work and a visit from his favorite magelord... the surface he had landed on bore all the traits of an all-too-familiar ship's deck... and after a quick distance calculation he was impressed he survived the fall with so little damage at all.
     Pain laced through his body, but it was a small price for success in both the assassination and shaking the search party off his tail. And his goddess would be safe from the malice of others once again for the time being. Ah, the extents one would go through for an object of obsession.
     Time found him after awhile searching the ship on which he had landed for a reasonable clue of where he was exactly and how to get out. A makeshift torch was formed of a torn strip of his tunic tied on top of a piece of broken deck plank and lit with a basic fire spell; and though it offered little actual lighting, it served its purpose well enough. There was a plank that connected the ship he fell on with an old ghost he never thought he would see again. The Black Serpent loomed as ominously in the torchlight as it did during any raid, yet the anchorlines that served as a makeshift harness for Syldra lay slack and the lower decks were free of any occupation. He gathered what he could from what was once his own cabin, and wasn't too surprised when he found the captain's cabin empty of any of Faris's personal possessions. Lenna kept a detailed journal of the quest against ExDeath and occassionally allowed him to read it, and she did very well in describing the old Lonkan airship hangar.
     He wandered past the two ships and into an old library where Cid and Mid spent the last days of their lives. Books, globes, maps, and other such research paraphenalia lay scattered as they had the final day Cid drew breath. It was a true shame none of these books were ever taken to the Library of the Ancients wherein they would have better protection against the ravages of time and the local bug population.
     It was a small stack of papers written in a child's hand that drew his attention; and, after setting his broken arm more comfortably in a makeshift sling, he allowed himself the time to read through it.

A Study of the Life and Times of the Angra Mainyu
by Mid Previa

     Very little is known of the era of Enuo's terror, and even less of those that defeated him. This paper is a cumulation of countless years of intensive research.

     Enuo was born as Ahriman Highwind, son of Zurvan Akarana Highwind of Tycoon and elder brother to Ormazd. Legend has it that after countless years of wishing for and being unable to conceive a child (supposedly he is said to have 'made the sacrifice of a thousand years'), a seed of doubt formed in Zurvan's mind, and at that moment he conceived the twins; Ormazd was the fulfillment of Zurvan's wishes, and Ahriman was the personification of his doubt. The king, Zurvan, vowed that he would name the firstborn his successor. Ormazd is said to have informed his brother of this, after which Ahriman ripped open the womb and presented himself as his brother. The father declared "My son is light and good, but thou art dark and evil," and wept bitterly at his plight. However, it is far more likely that the decision to appoint Ahriman as the heir to the throne of Tycoon has its basis in tradition, for even today it is always the firstborn who is named a parent's successor.
     There are no records of Ahriman's childhood although there are written accounts of Zurvan's constant visits to the Lonkan Republic and various centers for the sciences, and it can be concluded from that evidence that Ahriman and his brother grew up with very little contact with their father. One account states that Zurvan accused Ahriman for the death of his wife in childbed, and it was because of this that the king isolated himself from his sons. This, combined with the rivalry with his brother he is said to have had, could have attributed to Ahriman's decline. At the time children were expected to be healthy, and given his own weak constitution it is also likely that Ahriman was taunted mercilessly. When these circumstances are added to the hypothesis that his very nature was corrupted from birth, what would come was no surprise for anyone.
     At the age of fifteen, Ahriman was appointed king after the assassination of Zurvan, and for three years governed as a cruel tyrant. Anyone who went against him was executed in the most painful way he could find. Such horrors included several variations of impalement, countless mutilations and tortures, interment of people still alive, rape, and slavery. He was later dethroned by his brother and exiled to a small colony in the Nazalea archipelago. One account states that the night Ahriman was driven out, the skies split open to unleash a storm so violent that it foretold what would happen at his return. Accompanying Ahriman was Azhi Dahaka.
     Dahaka is unique in that she is the only one of Ahriman's followers who had been with him since before the assassination of Zurvan, and it is often presumed that it was she who killed Zurvan on the Black Moon; possibly using her former status as a student and the illegitimate daughter of Cid Singh (Zurvan's confidante and the prime technical force behind the Namtar Project) to access her victim. From what little remains of the databases at Gohn is an account of the woman's crimes up to the one that led to her exile. She was an assassin first and foremost, often employed by anyone who could afford her rates, although she had been known to kill on a whim. After losing an eye in a failed murder attempt she was taken to trial and, with her father's influences, exiled to service in Tycoon instead of executed.
     While the two were living out their sentence at sea there was a shift of powers in the Republic of Lonka. The political faction that commissioned the Namtar Project fell out of favor and soon retreated to their artificial moon, and the Omega Weapon Project was abandoned with its only successful model residing in Ormazd's armory in Tycoon. Meanwhile, Ormazd began a slow revitalization of Tycoon that continued until his self-sacrifice twenty years later. He cleansed the fields of the blood spilt by his brother, purified his lands of the stench of death, brought forth a golden age from the ruins left behind, and it was during this time that he fathered Atar, the Light Warrior of Fire.
     Ahriman, who had then taken the name Enuo (possibly derived from the word 'enu', supposedly the first word the Lonkan creator goddess uttered to bring forth the Void in which the elemental crystals and the world were to be placed, and the suffix -ou, denoting a royal rank), had come across a woman who is said to have stolen his heart during the period in which he turned his prison into a base and slowly accumulated power.
     This woman was Anahita Ardvisura, who is described as being strong, beautiful, pure, noble, and intelligent... which, at the time, was considered unusual among women (women were expected to be docile and simple of mind, yet already in this study we have come across two who had contradicted that stereotype). She and Enuo became lovers and created a child between them (which is mentioned once in only one essay). Yet when Enuo's all-consuming evil began to infect his love for Anahita, she took her daughter and fled to seek sanctuary in the remote kingdom of Regolix (in later years a revolution would overthrow the king and split the kingdom into what we know today as Regole and Lix). Hurt by his lover's escape and unable to change his own nature, Enuo wrote the only song he would ever pen: a masterpiece entitled 'Despair'. It was possibly the only thing he ever created that was not touched by darkness, and only a few verses exist that are still legible.
     With Anahita gone, Azhi sought to regain her master's favor by infiltrating Tycoon Castle, which was at the time little more than a military fortress converted into a fortified palace during Zurvan's short reign. She failed her attempt to murder Ormazd, and her presense served to warn him of his brother's impeding attack. The assassin was sent back to her master's base with a letter of admonition towards Enuo. Furious, the darklord grabbed her by the hair and dragged her into the deepest dungeons of his fortress, wherein he had turned her into a great and dreadful dragon he had then named Shinryuu.
     When and how Omega fell into Enuo's hands, no one knows. Presumably Azhi had it reprogrammed before she was caught, but there is little more to go on than hearsay. Regardless, with Omega and Shinryuu at his disposal, Enuo began his attack in full force. Crescent was the first to fall because of its proximity, then Walse and its protectorates. Tycoon with its Lonkan-engineered defenses withstood the attacks led by Omega, and maintained its position throughout the siege. During this time the daevas first appeared: creatures mutated from hybrids of human and monster flesh named according to the sins they represented. Aeshma Daeva, the demon of Fury and Wrath, was the first among them, and following were: Saura (Anarchy), Taoromaiti and Pairimaiti (Presumption and Crooked-mindedness), Endra (Apostasy), and so on. Each headed a separate section of Enuo's armies.
     During the siege of Tycoon, troops lead by Shinryuu and Akah Manah (Discord) stormed the Bahl/Lonka region. Lonka relied far too much on its technology and the docility of its people, and fell easily under the chaotic violence of Enuo's idea of warfare. The people of Bahl fled their captured castle through a secret passage from the basement leading to the mountains outside, and migrated to the tribelands of the Ishtari (a people who worshipped the moon and would later settle down to name their country Istory).
     With the entire southern hemisphere now under Enuo's control save for the still-standing Tycoon, the queen of Bahl sought advice from the Water Crystal kept in a shrine within what is now known as Istory Falls. Whether or not she got a response, no one knows, but within the month three parties of warriors were brought together. The first party was to be called the Warriors of the Dawn, the second were the Warriors of Light, and the final were the Warriors of the Dusk. Each party consisted of four warriors corresponding to each element, and given one unique weapon that could not be found anywhere else (for example, Atar the Light Warrior of Fire was given the Holy Lance, Haoma the Light Warrior of Earth was given the Earth Bell, Vayu the Light Warrior of Wind was given the Excalibur, et cetera). The Warriors of Dawn were the first to fall, their deaths marking the liberation of Lonka, Bahl, and Luxor (later invaded by a warlord and renamed Karnac). The Lonkans, frightened as they were by the war already, began construction of a floating continent in hopes that they could avoid another battle. The portion of the population that could afford it retreated to the settlement on the Black Moon, and those that couldn't stayed behind and prepared for war for the first time in their history in three hundred years.
     While the Light Warriors were heading the military front, the Dusk Warriors attempted an infiltration into Enuo's base of operations in hopes of a successful assassination. They were captured, however, and subjected to Enuo's first experimentations with his control over the Void. Their deaths left the Light Warriors standing as the only ones capable of saving the world from oblivion.
     The Void now at his disposal, Enuo is said to have approached Tycoon under a false flag of truce with hands spread to signify the absense of weapons. His brother emerged to greet him, and was stabbed with a lance of white-hot magic energy. As the protector of the castle fell, the skies above grew as dark and forboding as if the bleak vaccum of deep space had eaten at the atmosphere and threatened to suck away all of reality. This black rip in the sky descended, swallowing the castle and everything nearby. Ormazd was taken for dead, and with nothing more to delay Enuo's progress, the darkmage resumed his campaign to the north.
     When Walse and the Carwen area fell to Enuo's forces the Light Warriors found their missing member, Anahita of Water, and she joined them under an alias to protect her daughter. It was their combined efforts with the Ishtari tribes, Regolix, and what remained of Lonka and Bahl that kept at least Enuo's army at bay. After long efforts to defeat the Daevas, the Light Warriors at last found themselves in Enuo's fortress. After a long battle through which Atar and Anahita died, the remaining Light Warriors paused in their battle as a being of light entered the chamber and advanced upon Enuo. This being was said to have the features of an angel, with pale yellow eyes and red hair, looking for all the world like the deceased Zurvan. They battled for what seemed to Vayu of Wind like an eternity, until at last the angel broke away and left a vastly weakened Enuo to their mercy. He was killed and his spirit escaped into the Void which it created.
     Without Enuo's guidance the Void had no order, and driven by chaos it began consuming all that fell within its path. Vayu of Wind and Haoma of Earth retreated to the Library near Luxor to consult any scholar who could concieve an idea that would be rid of the Void once and for all. It is there that they encountered Ormazd, and together they realised that the only option there was to be rid of the Void was to seal it in a rift in space... a rift caused by the splitting of the Four Crystals. To do so a life would have to be sacrificed, and as Ormazd was the only one still alive who had power over all the crystals, he volunteered. As the Crystals were split in two, so was the world... as the world was ripped in two, so was Ormazd's body, for it was the taking of his own life that kept the worlds from being destroyed completely in the process.
     To honor their fallen comrades, Vayu and Haoma gathered the twelve legendary weapons and enshrined them at the dead castle of Koozer. Those countries that fell into the Void were restored through Ormazd's sacrifice; and with no heir of Zurvan's line left alive, a grandnephew of Zurvan was appointed Regent for Enuo's toddler daughter Jehi. Jehi never conceived an heir, and the descendants of Zurvan's sister ascended the throne. Shinryuu and Omega were chased into the Cleft of Dimensions by Vayu and Haoma, and neither monsters or heroes ever returned. Lonka's floating continent achieved takeoff in the year 250 Anno Separaro, and contact lost with those of the Black Moon colony circa 258 A.S. Aeshma was chased down and sealed in the Underwater Research Laboratory of the Lonka Republic near Crescent.
     However, even with the worlds more or less restored, the trade-city of Mirage was forever sealed in the Cleft of Dimensions with the Void and what became of its citizens was unknown until recently (theory suggests that it was in Mirage that Ormazd split the crystals, sacrificed himself, and therefore sealed the city within the Cleft of Dimensions. As of 1091 A.S., interviews with eyewitness citizens of Mirage are still pending). Further study into the history of Mirage and its role must be taken up in later essays.
     Although peace reigned in the world more or less for five hundred years, somewhere around 498 A.S. a dark spirit escaped the Cleft of Dimensions, felling whatever strayed within its path. The sage Ghido identified this as Enuo's restless soul, and with the aid of several wizards and priests had it sealed in a young oak in the Moore Forest. To protect the seal, seven pines were grown in a circle around the oak, and a monster named Humbaba appointed to guard it. Another four hundred years went by, and the seal then broken by an unsuspecting king and his companion. This king was Gilgamesh, and his companion the wildman Enkidu. They took the fallen trees and Humbaba's head back to their homeland Uruk to boast of overcoming the guardian of the Forest and fine timber to build with.
     Enuo's soul festered within the fallen oak, waiting for the moment it could seduce Gilgamesh to its bidding. That opportunity came when Enkidu died of illness, and terror of death struck Gilgamesh's very heart. Enuo's voice promised Gilgamesh the revival of his friend and his own immortality if he would allow himself into Enuo's service. The grief-stricken king consented and tied himself permanently into Enuo's service, turning over all his lands in the process. Enuo shaped a body out of the flesh of the tree he was sealed in, and undertook the name ExceedingDeath (often shortened to ExDeath). Uruk fell, and Castle ExDeath was built of the bodies of its citizens.
     The Dawn Warriors were once again picked out of the population of the Sister World, and they chased ExDeath to another world, where he was sealed once again. The rest is, as they say, history, and would be better explained through the diary of the Light Warrior of Water, Lenna Charlotte Tycoon.

     I close this paper now with very special thanks to Red Halisyn at the Library of the Ancients, without whom this essay would be considerably incomplete. His works include the "Comprehensive Dictionary and Glossary of the Lonkan Tongue", an interveiw with Gilgamesh titled "Requiem for the Forgotten King", and many insights into times long past and almost forgotten. Further thanks goes to Lenna Tycoon for her accounts of the war with ExDeath, and Faris Scherwiz-Highwind and Krile Mayer Baldesion for dredging up background family history that provides invaluable links that would have remained hidden without their efforts.

Mid Previa; Duir 13, 1091 A.S.

     Benjiro stared at the essay in his hands for some time. Duir 13, what would have been the middle of winter in the northern hemisphere, that was the same day Mid was killed. He remembered faintly that Krile dropped mention about Mid writing some essay or whatever it was and how proud he was going to be when it was going to be published, some time shortly after his death. Pity, the boy never got a chance to display this wonderful piece of work...
     And it was odd how much his own son knew about a time most people forgot. Out of curiosity, the pirate captain searched the area for the Lonkan dictionary cited in the essay, faintly wondering why he was never told of Ridha's publications during the boy's time in the Library of the Ancients. Sure, Red told his parents constantly about his advances in the field of magic, but other than that...
     The dictionary was a thick book bound in green-dyed leather, its title embossed with silver ink, its spine creased with constant usage. He set it upon the table and, with effort hindered by his broken arm, flipped it open to the 'z' section.

zrvan, [zurván], n., time
zrvan akarana, [zurván ákarana], p. pn., infinite time. The Lonkans believed that from the Void came a god of infinite time and space, who presided over the four elements, destiny, and darkness and light. A king of the country of Tycoon was named for this god (ruled ca. 58-39 Pre-Separation), and is said to have his namesake's powers.

     Well, that's strange, Benjiro thought as he closed the book and returned it to its shelf. There was something fishy about it, something he couldn't quite put a finger on...
     There was a painting in Tycoon that was faded with age, said to be over a thousand years old. He was absently aware that Ridha stopped in front of it every now and then to gaze up at it. A few months ago Ridha was looking at it with a puzzled expression, and only recently that expression changed into something else. Something more knowledgeable, more expectant. But why...?
     He dug around the table for any other clues to give light to his nebulous suspicions, frowning slightly at the scattered mess of papers that offended his sense of aesthetic neatness. You'd think a pair of scientists would have enough sense to clean up after themselves.
     Lying half-hidden under other papers and pinned down by a notepad was a watercolor painting that caught his attention, and he wrested it from its position. It was a passable reproduction of the ancient portrait Ridha liked to look at every now and then, but lacking the touch of a truly creative artist. Such was the origins of similar reproductions. As he gazed upon the watercolor painting, he dug a sketch of his own out of his inner vest pocket and set the two separate pieces of art besides each other.
     Save for the longer hair, a different outfit, and a more mature face on the man in the watercolor portrait, the two images were all too similar, and Benjiro felt a chill creep over his spine. His powers were nowhere near the extent of Ridha's, but he watched the tail-ends of his son's dreams when he couldn't sleep, wondering what could have triggered them, subconsciously keeping a mental ear on the boy's thoughts. Now it made all too much sense.
     As much as Ridha knew, his knowledge was limited to the few rotting books that spoke of a distant time. This paper was the only reproduction of books that had rotted to dust long ago, and the only thing that still retained their knowledge. The dreams had only brought limited veiws of the past and nothing on this wide a scale.
     No one should ever live knowing that their existance was the sole cause of so much suffering and death. And with that thought the pirate held up the papers with one hand, a simple glance at the uppermost corner bringing forth flames to lick at the stack of papers.

     The sweet, lonely strains of a silver flute drifted through the air, carried by the high winds of the mountains of Tycoon. A lilting golden voice followed it soon after and the two wove into a plaintive tune that betrayed their creators' feelings. They were both alone in a world that would not accept them, and even those close to them knew not their true thoughts and emotions.
     The tune carried on, floating away with the wind when the musicians' instruments faded into silence. The flutist gazed upon her accompanist with soft, sad brown eyes half-veiled by wavy green bangs. His own eyes were remote, looking into the distance.
     "Something wrong, Ridha," she asked as she set the instrument in her lap.
     Ridha's gaze drifted to the clouds, watching them race at a snail's pace across the sky, taking small comfort in the winds that tousseled his hair. He inhaled deeply of the pine-scented mountain air and closed his eyes before responding in his feather-light voice. "Other than having been approached by yet another hormonal servant intent on seducing me? No, not really."
     "Poor little Red, victim to the very position most other teenaged boys would love to be in. I do feel sorry for Mademoiselle Baldesion, however, if you two ever decide to get over your collective shyness."
     "There is nothing going on between Krile and I, if that is what you are suggesting."
     A phantom trace of a smile crept across Yllesia's full lips. "I'm not blind, kiddo, though I do have to wonder why your parents haven't even noticed yet. You've been paying a lot more attention to Krile than you used to, and you haven't been too cautious about it. Besides..." She stood and brushed dust from her dress with a free hand. "...as much as you may deny it, we are the same, you and I."
     With face as red as his hair, the magelord turned away to hide his embarassment. His voice lost the self-assured, somewhat arrogant air it always had in her presense. "Just because we both have similar personalities, it does not mean anything-"
     "And similar tastes, and the ability to look into the future, et cetera."
     "I would hardly consider reading tarot cards a reliable way to foresee the future," Ridha almost snapped, angered at himself that his mother's friend could get an emotional rise out of him so easily. He had taken pride in his cool, collected outer shell far too much. Much as she had in her own shell. They really were too much alike.
     Silence fell between them, allowing time for the magelord's brief anger to burn out. Yllesia just gave that ever-present half-smile that usually doubled as a smirk, and stepped forward to lay a hand on his shoulder. Funny, she thought, that the kid was almost as short as herself and yet his parents were a good deal taller.
     "Be that as it may, this little game is not the reason I came out here with you," the Karnac queen stated bluntly.
     "You need something only I can provide, correct? What is it?"
     Yllesia cocked her head, making a show of thinking about the best way to phrase the request. "Hrm, let's see... I miss having a baby to take care of. I don't suppose you could, say, help me make one?"
     The expression that appeared on Ridha's face was one of absolute horror mixed with such a comical look of shock that Yllesia nearly doubled over with laughter. Needling Butz was fun, but this... this was priceless. Once she had regained her composure, she muttered "checkmate" with the sinister, catty smile she was so well known for.
     "My my, I really got you there, didn't I?" She only smirked more as he settled back into his usual aloof mood and glared daggers at her. "However, I would much prefer it if we don't do things as normal, straight people would do. No offense, but men in heat are so disgusting. Why else do you think I went to you instead of finding some stableboy to abuse?"
     "Because I make a more delicious target, I presume," the magelord asked dourly, unconsciously crossing his arms tight before him. "Why fornicate with a stableboy when you can harass me?"
     "That, my boy, is not at all what I mean... but you are so adorable when you make mistakes and know it. All I ask is that you get an embryo from your parents, implant it in me, and do what you can to make it female. The concept is quite simple, really. It's the execution that's up to you. I know you're a brilliant scientist as well as magician, and I'm certain you can do this."
     Ridha's nose wrinkled slightly in a grimace. "I hate digging around in my mother's body, especially in that area. I have had more than my fair share of that in my youth, thank you."
     Yllesia nodded solemnly. Ridha was only five years of age when he witnessed his mother's rape and torture, he was only a child when he had been forced into watching and then having to heal her every time she was within the grasp of death after the man who captured her decided it would be fun to stab her with any variety of sharp objects. It was little wonder that the teenaged boy had no sex drive to speak of, really, and that he always flinched when he was too close to his parents' room while they were being far too affectionate with each other. He was robbed of any innocence and childhood he had.
     "Think of it as ensuring the survival of the Highwind line. We both know you're never going to come up with a heir once you've ascended the throne. This is probably the best way to do it, right? Faris will have an heir capable of breeding, I'll have a baby to take care of, there'll be no pressure on you to marry... I think it'll all work out wonderfully!"
     "Very well. You go tell Mother about this little scheme of yours while I go to my room, curl up in a corner, and suck my thumb," the magelord asked half in jest and half in disgust, mentally kicking himself for the last comment that would be perfect fodder for future mockery and needling from Yllesia.
     Strangely enough there was no verbal sting from her, just a thankful smile and a bow as she retreated gracefully to the door that lead to the inner towers and back into the castle itself. What she didn't mention to her friend's son was that she knew all too well what the outcome of this venture would be. After all, in all the thirty years she had them, the cards have never once lied.

     As she followed a priest into a temple, the queen of Tycoon allowed her thoughts to wander while the little man babbled incessantly. Faris had always found it amusing that those who thought they weren't telling her anything were the ones she had her spies on. Oh, she loved her family dearly, but she couldn't trust any of them to tell her anything. At least Butz had learned his lesson, and it was from him that she learned of Benjiro's little activities on shore-leave in Crescent.
     It wasn't even the first time her lifemate killed someone in his warped idea of protecting her, and it wouldn't be the last time he would come back to her in sullen, guilty depression and practically beg her to punish him for doing something he thought she would never know about. Damn masochist. At least he had the grace to avoid capture and spare her any tangles with the resulting political turmoil.
     She had disliked Amit, true, but not enough to have him killed, and she didn't care enough to mourn his death. Just another fat politician dead with who knew what kind of person to take his place. And somehow she doubted that it was he that sent Aesma to kill her. Who was responsible for Aesma, she still didn't know. That lack of knowledge ate at her gut even now, as she stood within the inner temple of some new cult that had sprouted up in Karnac and decided to expand into Tycoon.
     The head priest was a young man of somewhat less than average height draped in a green wizard's robe, whose angelic face crowned with brown hair masked the sly little mind she had no doubt was there. While she had little problem with religions popping up every now and then, this one had been brought to her attention by her chancellor, who had previously tried to imprison that priest on charges of public lewdness and some other bullshit excuse. Faris, ever a supporter for the underdog, decided to investigate the cult's doings on her own.
     At the moment this priest, Preston, was showing her around the inner sanctum, babbling something or another about sharing love and how all people were brothers. From what she gathered so far, the cult was hardly a cult at all, it only allowed members who were willing to learn the long-dead language of Lonka and could withstand the vigorous discipline. This educational organization, Preston had called it, allowed any member of any of the world's countless religions to join so long as they were willing to accept each other's beliefs and shed all prejudices. And of the so-called orgies the organization was accused on, Preston had explained that only members of the Inner Ring staged and participated in such things, because it was the organization's collective belief that love should be shared, and the best way to share was to make love.
     Faris paused when he said that, and gave him a wry smile. "You people should have caught me ten years ago. I'd have gladly joined, if just for the polygamy aspect."
     The priest blinked and looked at her with wide light-brown eyes framed by thick glasses, "Why would you not be willing to join now? As one of the daughters of the last true Lonkan you would be more than welcome into the Inner Ring."
     Siduri, Faris's and Lenna's mother, came from a hamlet within the kingdom of Uruk on the Sister World. Uruk had been the last bastion of pure Lonkan blood before its king Gilgamesh betrayed his people and ExDeath razed the kingdom and turned all its people into the building blocks of his castle. The seer Siduri managed to escape this only by being absent within Ghido's shrine. When ExDeath was sealed and Dorgan decided to stay behind in Lix, Siduri followed in hopes to escape the memory of Uruk's fall. She had met Alexander Highwind during her wanderings, and gave birth to the two princesses. The sisters were never told of their mother's history, and the only reason Faris suspected any of this was because Galuf had approached her one night on the Sister World, commenting on how rare purple hair was, especially since the last human to have such hair was Siduri, and that hairtone ranging from lavender to imperial purple to rose pink were unique to the people of Uruk. He told her of Siduri, who had been as tall as Faris was, with long purple hair and sad green eyes, who had disappeared into Faris's homeworld and not been heard from since. Long afterwards, when the former pirate was given a chance she learned everything she could from her father's journal. The fact that Faris never really knew her mother was always a sore spot with her, and she glared at the head priest for bringing up that subject.
     He moved on to another subject, obviously disappointed that the queen wasn't willing to endorse the organization and that Lenna would balk at the idea of it. Politics, she had explained, wouldn't allow for her to support any one belief. Better to have an atheist on the throne than a fanatic, and Preston's organization was still considered as a group of such people. But despite all, she did rather like the idea behind the place, and assured the poor youth that unless he did something illegal, she would make sure that his group would not be harassed by Tycoon police again.
     Once the priest had finished his tour, he brought her to the outside of the temple and thanked her for her patience and understanding. Before she left, he asked her to give his regards to Ridha, and that she and her son were welcome into the organization at any time. Before she could ask how the youth knew her son, he disappeared.
     Typical.
     The queen of Tycoon tied her hair back into a queue, and once that was done, she pulled a hooded cloak over her body to hide her face under shadows and avoid being spotted. She enjoyed being among the lower class far too much to wander about flaunting her status.
     The bar she visited so often was situated in the less respectable outskirts of the city that flanked the fortress-turned-palace of Tycoon Castle. Its sign was a simple design that displayed its name for the illiterate, and the crude letters scrawled out underneath had long been worn away by the tides of years. There were other taverns out there that were in better shape. But it didn't matter, really, since the barkeep of the Bottomless Tankard was probably the only man she'd trust enough to keep her secret.
     Hadwin Maddock presided over his bar with all the poise of an old samurai and gave her an acknowledging nod as he put away his cleaning rag.
     "Ya want the usual, Prince," he asked breezily as she settled onto a stool and gave the room a quick survey. The usual band of ruffians and their whores occupied the place, as they always had. She always did much prefer the harsh, dirty reality of a bar than the perfumed masks and fantasies of the court.
     "Nah. Be a mate and mix me a Blackflame, willya?"
     The old man gave a grunt of surprise and turned to pick half a dozen bottles off the shelves. "Single shot or double?"
     "Triple. I haven't been able to get anything like that at home. Y'know how my sister is, complains every bloody time she finds me with a bottle of anything stronger than wine."
     "A'ight. Shaken?"
     "Aye."
    He set the bottles down on the counter and added the drinks to the shaker one at a time. Vodka, rum, brandy, several others that went by so fast she didn't keep up. Once they had been mixed he poured the liquor into a glass and handed it to her with the surface of the liquid lit with a low blue flame.
     She blew out the flame and knocked back the heavily alcoholic drink in several gulps. As the liquid fire burned through her body, she gave the barkeeper a small smile.
     "Thanks for not blowing my cover."
     "I've no reason to. Besides, I'm hoping that when your liver does finally give out no one'll be pinning any of the blame on me."
     "Pleasant thought, old man. Hold on to that," she responded as she finished off the drink and settled into the nice happy haze of tipsiness. Always did feel better after a drink.
     Faris would have been perfectly content to drift off to sleep on the bar too, had a new conversation between other patrons not arisen and interrupted her lazily alcohol-soaked train of thought. And as much as she hated to admit to it, curiosity was one of her worst vices.
     The former pirate slipped as close to the conversationalists as possible without bringing attention to herself. She was always interested when discussion drifted to her royal persona, it let her know what people really though and if she was doing anything wrong. The way the conversation was going now, however...
     When the hell did she ever have an accent like the one they were mocking? The accent they were using was one that only existed in very badly exaggerated stories and novels of piracy, usually told by people who had never had first hand experience. Stereotypes, fun...
     Admittedly, she did use the flamboyantly dressed dandy-esque stereotype of a pirate captain to her advantage, but no one she knew ever used that hideous accent. Were she in a better state of mind she would have ignored this completely. However...
     Faris disappeared into the barkeep's room, only to come out wearing a broad-shouldered overcoat of heavy black velvet, large gold buttons, gold pippings, and her usual green vest, knickers, and pitch-black boots. She had to borrow a cutlass and broad belt that Hadwin kept from his days as a privateer, but they finished off the effect she needed. He didn't seem to mind anyway, just gave her a mildly surprised look and resumed polishing his shotglasses.
     With a decidedly devillish grin she stepped into their tiny circle, and half-growled a single word. "Arrr!"
     They all started in surprise and stared at her... and some even looked like they would bolt the moment she moved. Her grin only widened as she stiffled her laughter at their reaction.
     "Isn't talking behind someone's back rather crude? Because last I heard that would be considered really bad etiquette," she stated in perfectly clear Common tongue.
     No one answered her, even though several made an attempt to and were choked off by their own nervousness. Faris shrugged it off and waved to the barkeep as she stepped away from the circle and towards the door.
     "Hey Hadwin, I'll be sending a courier with the money for the tab and everything once I'm back home."
     "Got it."
     And with that, still in full pirate captain regalia, slightly tipsy, and still chuckling at the memory of the bar patrons' faces, she walked the long way back to Tycoon castle.

~end chapter nine~

 

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