8th Fragment: -CHALICE-
After wiping the tears from his irritated eyes, Sam glowered at the stern-looking woman. A tawny skin with a warm olive undertone, a pixie cut of auburn hair, a pair of brilliant amethyst eyes, and a patch of freckles on her concave nose - she was, unmistakably Rowanna Zinnia, the Captain of the Swallowtail Guild. The woman was sporting a black sweater with a violet bolero on top and a pair of skinny blue jeans - an outfit she usually wore for field missions. Sam also took notice of the zweihänder fastened to her back, its blade tainted with mud and black slimes. For such a fearsome warrior to appear in person, not to mention during his scuffle with Cindar - Sam was convinced that he was somewhat cursed.
A brief moment passed, and Rowanna began to crack both of her knuckles. After taking a long, deep breath, the imposing woman began to mutter sonorously, "I came back to this Tower, bone-tired, looking forward to a good night's sleep. As I was about to retire into my room, I was suddenly informed about two of my younglings currently in critical condition." The woman then slowly folded her sleeves up until they reached her elbows before continuing, "I am truly dumbfounded. Not only is this unknown perpetrator willing to risk their position within the Order, but they also have the balls to test my patience."
Rowanna locked eyes with Cindar - the man was sweating bullets. "And now, this certain someone is trying to kill one of his own," Rowanna added as she casually drew her zweihänder and gently rested it on her shoulder. "Perhaps I made a mistake. Perhaps a broken nose might not be enough to teach this certain someone about humility and respect."
Cindar clenched his jaws - the fearful expression he had earlier disappeared, replaced with an unenthusiastic smile. "It's been a while, hasn't it? Three years, was it?" the man greeted the Scarred Empress in a trembling voice.
"What's the matter, Cindar? You look terrified."
"Me? Terrified? You're just imagining it."
"Is that so?" Rowanna remarked before she slowly advanced toward Cindar. "Tell me then, why two of my younglings are fighting for their lives right now in the Infirmary? Is there a particular reason for you beating the shit out of them?”
Cindar remained quiet.
“Do you think Thomas picked you because you're special? One of a kind? Sorry, to burst your bubble, but you're not,” Rowanna scoffed.
"That is not for you to decide," Cindar countered.
"No, but you've proven time and time again that you are nothing more than a child throwing a temper tantrum when things didn’t go as you wanted."
"A child?" Cindar snarled, "I've broken nearly all the bones in my body, and endured many moons of agonizing trials. I even risked my life fighting those Distorted - you dare call me a child?"
Rowanna smirked, "Oh, did I strike a nerve? How about this?" The woman stopped five feet away from Cindar and planted the zweihänder into the wooden flooring. "If you can land a blow on my chest, we will keep the things you did off the record. In other words, you will be exempted from any punishment."
"What?!" Sam exclaimed, taken aback by the unusual deal.
"I accept," Cindar declared without a sliver of hesitation. He shoved the trench knife forward, but Rowanna swiftly disarmed the man, snatching the knife for herself instead. She pressed the sharp tip against Cindar's neck - the latter froze in place.
"A valiant approach, but your movement is too sloppy," Rowanna stated before launching her fist into Cindar's face. There was a faint cracking sound followed by a howl of pain.
"YOU BITCH!" Cindar screeched as blood dripped out of his misshapen nose.
"You, Edelweiss," said Rowanna calmly.
"Y-Yes, ma'am?" Sam stammered; his entire body tensed up.
"Go and stay out of trouble. This imbecile is my responsibility now."
qs********************************************
As soon as the main entrance flung shut, Rowanna shifted her attention back to Cindar who was persistently spouting curse words to her. A smirk formed across Rowanna’s face as she tried to suppress her laughter. “Still easily compromised by your emotions. I thought Thomas had already taught you to subdue your anger.”
“SHUT UP!” Cindar exclaimed with blood flowing out of his nostrils.
“Tsk, if only you put all that energy into improving your offense instead of shouting like a jackass,” Rowanna chided. “Here, I believe this is yours,” the woman tossed the trench knife toward Cindar who managed to grab it in mid-air. “Come on, one more time.”
“Are you fucking with me?” barked Cindar while staring at the auburn-haired woman in disbelief.
“Of course, I am. Isn’t that obvious? Do you really think for one second that I’m going to take you seriously?”
“What?” the irate man bared his teeth like a hungry wolf. He immediately marched toward Rowanna, his trench knife pointed forward.
However, the auburn-haired woman swiftly dodged out of her foe’s way before thrusting her right palm against Cindar’s chin. The man let out a short cry as his head snapped heavenward where he could see the ceiling covered with blinking white stars.
“Hold your breath,” said Rowanna as she yanked Cindar by the collar and slammed him against the floor with a loud bang.
Immediately after the vicious takedown, the Training Hall was filled with the sounds of Cindar wheezing and gasping for air. The man's furious demeanor was completely gone – replaced with him whimpering on his back like a wounded dog.
“Stay down, if you know what’s good for you,” Rowanna calmly stated before snatching the trench knife in Cindar’s hand. “Tsk, what a waste of good Core Blade.”
“Give…it…back,” said Cindar, trying to grab the woman’s ankle. Though, as the man stretched out his arms, he suddenly felt an intense pain in his chest, as if a giant boulder was placed on him.
“Quiet,” Rowanna hissed at the groaning man. “Don’t even think of moving a muscle, got it?”
“I’m afraid…I can’t do that. There is…too much to do. Too much…to achieve.”
“Huh? What are you on about?”
Cindar slowly raised his right arm; his palm facing Rowanna. “You…will not stop me. No one…will.”
Rowanna scowled at Cindar, thinking the man had lost his mind – until a brownish-red smoke shot out of his hand, hitting the auburn-haired woman directly in the face.
“You…!” Rowanna gagged as the pungent gas slipped into her nose and mouth, inadvertently causing her eyes to tear up. At the same time, she could also feel her throat burning, as if she had just swallowed a beaker of acid. “Using your power inside the Tower’s compound?! Thomas will flay you alive when he finds out about this,” exclaimed Rowanna in frustration.
“I don’t give a damn what he thinks,” Cindar chuckled. Despite his aching body, the man somehow managed to stand to his feet, albeit a little unsteady. “I have bigger things to worry about than babysitting a dying old man.”
“That dying old man…,” Rowanna coughed out, “He took you in after you lost your family – cared for you like a son…
“For that I am grateful. But the path he chose for me – the path of honor and justice – is not the path I truly desire.”
“Then, what is this path you truly desire? Is it worth getting yourself Culled? Or worse, executed?”
Cindar grinned, “It worths more…than every life of the Reprieved.”
“Is that so?” Rowanna sighed loudly. “If this is the path you adamantly choose, then the Faceless Lord will decide your face.”
“I suppose. But we both know that I won’t follow you willingly.”
“Who said anything about following me willingly?” the auburn-haired woman said before throwing Cindar’s trench knife over her shoulder. “Let us see whether the rest of your face is much sturdier than your nose.”
**qs******************************************
[15 minutes later…]
[Seventh Floor of the Tower of Nexus]
[Inside the Chamber of the Eight]
The moment Markus entered the dim room, greeted by a flurry of cold air and the acrid smell of tobacco. As his eyes adjusted to the lighting, he saw a bald and chalky elderly man sitting leisurely in a grey armchair - a lit cigar latched between his fingers.
"Thomas," Markus calmly greeted the Faceless Lord, dressed in a black mandarin collar suit. "It seems you've shaved off that awful goatee of yours."
"A good thing I did. It was seriously giving me an itch. But let's spare the idle chit-chat for later," said Thomas, jumping out of his seat. "So, a Mangler in a woodland. Sounds a bit outlandish, don't you think?"
Markus nodded his head, "It does. But we both know that's not the strangest news we have heard recently."
Thomas took a whiff of his cigar, "I told you countless times, Markus. The Liberation is no threat to us. They are just a bunch of insurgents who, despite claiming to be the protectors of the oppressed, did nothing but spread chaos across the Opal Sun Kingdom. I believe the Royal Sun Guards are enough to deal with the group. But at least for now, I prefer to discuss your apprentices."
"What about them?" asked Markus after noticing the old man's furrowed eyebrows.
"For starters, their imprudence is getting out of hand, especially the siblings. The recent incident in The Wailing Forest was a prime example of it, and the locals weren't exactly happy to see the aftermath of the battle,” Thomas grumbled before taking another whiff of his cigar. “As the Captain of the Deathstalker AND my eventual successor, I was assured that you will act as their mentor – to teach them about courtesy, responsibilities, and more importantly," Thomas glowered at his lieutenant before finishing his sentence, "Discipline."
"Yes, sir," Markus simply replied.
"Now, if it was up to me, they'll be suspended immediately. However," Thomas pulled out a yellow crumpled slip from his breast pocket before handing it over to his deputy, "It will undoubtedly be a waste of their talents."
Puzzled by his superior's words, Markus quietly inspected the paper; although it was faint, he could vividly see a symbol resembling a small goblet with a snake coiled around it. "No, that's impossible," Markus breathed before his eyes darted back toward the Faceless Lord. "Is this what I think it is?"
"Unfortunately, it is," Thomas sighed, "60 hours ago, we received a message from Elisabeth Rosier, the Overseer for the Desert of Ashes. She said she discovered something that wasn't supposed to be there. 24 hours later, a distress signal was deployed. When the Hornets were dispatched to her cabin, they found it ransacked with its occupant missing."
"Don’t you think it’s too hasty to link the incident with the Disciples of Vidia? Not only did we purge the entire organization a decade ago, but physical altercations were never a part of their MO."
"True. That is why I want your apprentices to investigate the incident."
Markus was visibly confused by Thomas's command - it made him wonder what the old man hoped to gain from assigning three novices to a missing person case.
"Now, before you start pulling your hair out pondering the reason for my decision, think of it as a way to rectify their mistakes," said the Faceless Lord, smiling mischievously.
'That was obviously a lie,' thought Markus, with raised eyebrows.
THUD!
Both men suddenly heard something slammed against the main door. A few seconds later, Rowanna marched inside, dragging along Cindar, who was battered beyond recognition.
"Miss Zinnia. What is the meaning of this?" Thomas barked.
"The meaning of this?" Rowanna shoved the injured man to the flooring. "This idiot assaulted two younglings. Not only that, he used his Typhokinesis on Samuel Edelweiss AND me - with the intent to kill."
Markus was speechless after hearing the explanation. He could hardly believe that Cindar would even dare to break the first and foremost rule of the Order. "Is that true, Cindar? Assaults and attempted murder? Do you have anything to say for yourself?"
After spitting out the blood in his mouth, Cindar sat on his knees with his bloodshot eyes fixated on Markus. "Oh, spare me from your righteous bullshit. Did you use that same high-and-mighty tone used after stabbing your best friend in the back?"
"That’s enough!" Thomas inadvertently crushed the cigar in his hands - disappointment was written all over his face. "I've tolerated your behavior for more than 20 years, hoping you'll grow out of it. Clearly, that was a mistake on my behalf."
The old man turned away from his apprentice and instructed the zweihänder-carrying woman, "Miss Zinnia. If you would please escort Mr. Cindar to his cell. I want him under constant surveillance until his trial date is decided."
The conversation is suddenly interrupted by Cindar's eerie laugh, "A mistake? You wanted a leader, right? Someone ruthless and unafraid to act, even when the whole world is against them? Well, you did it, Thomas. You created me."
Rowanna couldn't help but roll her eyes as she yanked the man up to his feet "Alright, Mr. Leader. You can continue your rambling down in the dungeon," remarked the woman before towing the man out of the room.
The front door closed. Markus looks over to Thomas, who is staring quietly at the armchair.
"Was it a mistake, Markus?" the old man muttered. "Was I too consumed by my oath to John – to make his son into a warrior better than he was - that I ended up disregarding the well-being of my subordinates?"
"Truthfully, I don't have the answer to that," said Markus, "To be fair, you have fulfilled your vow to John. Jack certainly inherited his father's courage and craftiness. If only I could say the same about his sense of honor."
Thomas exhaled deeply. Then, without looking at the man in front of him, the elderly man said, "You may go, Markus, and best of luck to your apprentices."
8th Fragment: -CHALICE-
After wiping the tears from his irritated eyes, Sam glowered at the stern-looking woman. A tawny skin with a warm olive undertone, a pixie cut of auburn hair, a pair of brilliant amethyst eyes, and a patch of freckles on her concave nose - she was, unmistakably Rowanna Zinnia, the Captain of the Swallowtail Guild. The woman was sporting a black sweater with a violet bolero on top and a pair of skinny blue jeans - an outfit she usually wore for field missions. Sam also took notice of the zweihänder fastened to her back, its blade tainted with mud and black slimes. For such a fearsome warrior to appear in person, not to mention during his scuffle with Cindar - Sam was convinced that he was somewhat cursed.
A brief moment passed, and Rowanna began to crack both of her knuckles. After taking a long, deep breath, the imposing woman began to mutter sonorously, "I came back to this Tower, bone-tired, looking forward to a good night's sleep. As I was about to retire into my room, I was suddenly informed about two of my younglings currently in critical condition." The woman then slowly folded her sleeves up until they reached her elbows before continuing, "I am truly dumbfounded. Not only is this unknown perpetrator willing to risk their position within the Order, but they also have the balls to test my patience."
Rowanna locked eyes with Cindar - the man was sweating bullets. "And now, this certain someone is trying to kill one of his own," Rowanna added as she casually drew her zweihänder and gently rested it on her shoulder. "Perhaps I made a mistake. Perhaps a broken nose might not be enough to teach this certain someone about humility and respect."
Cindar clenched his jaws - the fearful expression he had earlier disappeared, replaced with an unenthusiastic smile. "It's been a while, hasn't it? Three years, was it?" the man greeted the Scarred Empress in a trembling voice.
"What's the matter, Cindar? You look terrified."
"Me? Terrified? You're just imagining it."
"Is that so?" Rowanna remarked before she slowly advanced toward Cindar. "Tell me then, why two of my younglings are fighting for their lives right now in the Infirmary? Is there a particular reason for you beating the shit out of them?”
Cindar remained quiet.
“Do you think Thomas picked you because you're special? One of a kind? Sorry, to burst your bubble, but you're not,” Rowanna scoffed.
"That is not for you to decide," Cindar countered.
"No, but you've proven time and time again that you are nothing more than a child throwing a temper tantrum when things didn’t go as you wanted."
"A child?" Cindar snarled, "I've broken nearly all the bones in my body, and endured many moons of agonizing trials. I even risked my life fighting those Distorted - you dare call me a child?"
Rowanna smirked, "Oh, did I strike a nerve? How about this?" The woman stopped five feet away from Cindar and planted the zweihänder into the wooden flooring. "If you can land a blow on my chest, we will keep the things you did off the record. In other words, you will be exempted from any punishment."
"What?!" Sam exclaimed, taken aback by the unusual deal.
"I accept," Cindar declared without a sliver of hesitation. He shoved the trench knife forward, but Rowanna swiftly disarmed the man, snatching the knife for herself instead. She pressed the sharp tip against Cindar's neck - the latter froze in place.
"A valiant approach, but your movement is too sloppy," Rowanna stated before launching her fist into Cindar's face. There was a faint cracking sound followed by a howl of pain.
"YOU BITCH!" Cindar screeched as blood dripped out of his misshapen nose.
"You, Edelweiss," said Rowanna calmly.
"Y-Yes, ma'am?" Sam stammered; his entire body tensed up.
"Go and stay out of trouble. This imbecile is my responsibility now."
qs********************************************
As soon as the main entrance flung shut, Rowanna shifted her attention back to Cindar who was persistently spouting curse words to her. A smirk formed across Rowanna’s face as she tried to suppress her laughter. “Still easily compromised by your emotions. I thought Thomas had already taught you to subdue your anger.”
“SHUT UP!” Cindar exclaimed with blood flowing out of his nostrils.
“Tsk, if only you put all that energy into improving your offense instead of shouting like a jackass,” Rowanna chided. “Here, I believe this is yours,” the woman tossed the trench knife toward Cindar who managed to grab it in mid-air. “Come on, one more time.”
“Are you fucking with me?” barked Cindar while staring at the auburn-haired woman in disbelief.
“Of course, I am. Isn’t that obvious? Do you really think for one second that I’m going to take you seriously?”
“What?” the irate man bared his teeth like a hungry wolf. He immediately marched toward Rowanna, his trench knife pointed forward.
However, the auburn-haired woman swiftly dodged out of her foe’s way before thrusting her right palm against Cindar’s chin. The man let out a short cry as his head snapped heavenward where he could see the ceiling covered with blinking white stars.
“Hold your breath,” said Rowanna as she yanked Cindar by the collar and slammed him against the floor with a loud bang.
Immediately after the vicious takedown, the Training Hall was filled with the sounds of Cindar wheezing and gasping for air. The man's furious demeanor was completely gone – replaced with him whimpering on his back like a wounded dog.
“Stay down, if you know what’s good for you,” Rowanna calmly stated before snatching the trench knife in Cindar’s hand. “Tsk, what a waste of good Core Blade.”
“Give…it…back,” said Cindar, trying to grab the woman’s ankle. Though, as the man stretched out his arms, he suddenly felt an intense pain in his chest, as if a giant boulder was placed on him.
“Quiet,” Rowanna hissed at the groaning man. “Don’t even think of moving a muscle, got it?”
“I’m afraid…I can’t do that. There is…too much to do. Too much…to achieve.”
“Huh? What are you on about?”
Cindar slowly raised his right arm; his palm facing Rowanna. “You…will not stop me. No one…will.”
Rowanna scowled at Cindar, thinking the man had lost his mind – until a brownish-red smoke shot out of his hand, hitting the auburn-haired woman directly in the face.
“You…!” Rowanna gagged as the pungent gas slipped into her nose and mouth, inadvertently causing her eyes to tear up. At the same time, she could also feel her throat burning, as if she had just swallowed a beaker of acid. “Using your power inside the Tower’s compound?! Thomas will flay you alive when he finds out about this,” exclaimed Rowanna in frustration.
“I don’t give a damn what he thinks,” Cindar chuckled. Despite his aching body, the man somehow managed to stand to his feet, albeit a little unsteady. “I have bigger things to worry about than babysitting a dying old man.”
“That dying old man…,” Rowanna coughed out, “He took you in after you lost your family – cared for you like a son…
“For that I am grateful. But the path he chose for me – the path of honor and justice – is not the path I truly desire.”
“Then, what is this path you truly desire? Is it worth getting yourself Culled? Or worse, executed?”
Cindar grinned, “It worths more…than every life of the Reprieved.”
“Is that so?” Rowanna sighed loudly. “If this is the path you adamantly choose, then the Faceless Lord will decide your face.”
“I suppose. But we both know that I won’t follow you willingly.”
“Who said anything about following me willingly?” the auburn-haired woman said before throwing Cindar’s trench knife over her shoulder. “Let us see whether the rest of your face is much sturdier than your nose.”
**qs******************************************
[15 minutes later…]
[Seventh Floor of the Tower of Nexus]
[Inside the Chamber of the Eight]
The moment Markus entered the dim room, greeted by a flurry of cold air and the acrid smell of tobacco. As his eyes adjusted to the lighting, he saw a bald and chalky elderly man sitting leisurely in a grey armchair - a lit cigar latched between his fingers.
"Thomas," Markus calmly greeted the Faceless Lord, dressed in a black mandarin collar suit. "It seems you've shaved off that awful goatee of yours."
"A good thing I did. It was seriously giving me an itch. But let's spare the idle chit-chat for later," said Thomas, jumping out of his seat. "So, a Mangler in a woodland. Sounds a bit outlandish, don't you think?"
Markus nodded his head, "It does. But we both know that's not the strangest news we have heard recently."
Thomas took a whiff of his cigar, "I told you countless times, Markus. The Liberation is no threat to us. They are just a bunch of insurgents who, despite claiming to be the protectors of the oppressed, did nothing but spread chaos across the Opal Sun Kingdom. I believe the Royal Sun Guards are enough to deal with the group. But at least for now, I prefer to discuss your apprentices."
"What about them?" asked Markus after noticing the old man's furrowed eyebrows.
"For starters, their imprudence is getting out of hand, especially the siblings. The recent incident in The Wailing Forest was a prime example of it, and the locals weren't exactly happy to see the aftermath of the battle,” Thomas grumbled before taking another whiff of his cigar. “As the Captain of the Deathstalker AND my eventual successor, I was assured that you will act as their mentor – to teach them about courtesy, responsibilities, and more importantly," Thomas glowered at his lieutenant before finishing his sentence, "Discipline."
"Yes, sir," Markus simply replied.
"Now, if it was up to me, they'll be suspended immediately. However," Thomas pulled out a yellow crumpled slip from his breast pocket before handing it over to his deputy, "It will undoubtedly be a waste of their talents."
Puzzled by his superior's words, Markus quietly inspected the paper; although it was faint, he could vividly see a symbol resembling a small goblet with a snake coiled around it. "No, that's impossible," Markus breathed before his eyes darted back toward the Faceless Lord. "Is this what I think it is?"
"Unfortunately, it is," Thomas sighed, "60 hours ago, we received a message from Elisabeth Rosier, the Overseer for the Desert of Ashes. She said she discovered something that wasn't supposed to be there. 24 hours later, a distress signal was deployed. When the Hornets were dispatched to her cabin, they found it ransacked with its occupant missing."
"Don’t you think it’s too hasty to link the incident with the Disciples of Vidia? Not only did we purge the entire organization a decade ago, but physical altercations were never a part of their MO."
"True. That is why I want your apprentices to investigate the incident."
Markus was visibly confused by Thomas's command - it made him wonder what the old man hoped to gain from assigning three novices to a missing person case.
"Now, before you start pulling your hair out pondering the reason for my decision, think of it as a way to rectify their mistakes," said the Faceless Lord, smiling mischievously.
'That was obviously a lie,' thought Markus, with raised eyebrows.
THUD!
Both men suddenly heard something slammed against the main door. A few seconds later, Rowanna marched inside, dragging along Cindar, who was battered beyond recognition.
"Miss Zinnia. What is the meaning of this?" Thomas barked.
"The meaning of this?" Rowanna shoved the injured man to the flooring. "This idiot assaulted two younglings. Not only that, he used his Typhokinesis on Samuel Edelweiss AND me - with the intent to kill."
Markus was speechless after hearing the explanation. He could hardly believe that Cindar would even dare to break the first and foremost rule of the Order. "Is that true, Cindar? Assaults and attempted murder? Do you have anything to say for yourself?"
After spitting out the blood in his mouth, Cindar sat on his knees with his bloodshot eyes fixated on Markus. "Oh, spare me from your righteous bullshit. Did you use that same high-and-mighty tone used after stabbing your best friend in the back?"
"That’s enough!" Thomas inadvertently crushed the cigar in his hands - disappointment was written all over his face. "I've tolerated your behavior for more than 20 years, hoping you'll grow out of it. Clearly, that was a mistake on my behalf."
The old man turned away from his apprentice and instructed the zweihänder-carrying woman, "Miss Zinnia. If you would please escort Mr. Cindar to his cell. I want him under constant surveillance until his trial date is decided."
The conversation is suddenly interrupted by Cindar's eerie laugh, "A mistake? You wanted a leader, right? Someone ruthless and unafraid to act, even when the whole world is against them? Well, you did it, Thomas. You created me."
Rowanna couldn't help but roll her eyes as she yanked the man up to his feet "Alright, Mr. Leader. You can continue your rambling down in the dungeon," remarked the woman before towing the man out of the room.
The front door closed. Markus looks over to Thomas, who is staring quietly at the armchair.
"Was it a mistake, Markus?" the old man muttered. "Was I too consumed by my oath to John – to make his son into a warrior better than he was - that I ended up disregarding the well-being of my subordinates?"
"Truthfully, I don't have the answer to that," said Markus, "To be fair, you have fulfilled your vow to John. Jack certainly inherited his father's courage and craftiness. If only I could say the same about his sense of honor."
Thomas exhaled deeply. Then, without looking at the man in front of him, the elderly man said, "You may go, Markus, and best of luck to your apprentices."
