Chapter Text
About a week before the mission, Zeke was returning from a talk with his father when he ran into Mòrag in the hallway. She looked troubled—not even noticing when he waved at her, so he slapped his hands onto her shoulder to get her attention.
She practically jumped, her eyes unusually wide. She let out a sigh of relief when she noticed him. “Oh, it’s just you,”
“You look bothered,” Zeke remarked. “Something wrong?”
“It’s… nothing,” She seemed to think it over for a bit before denying, not even bothering to mask the lie.
“You’re lying,” Zeke shrugged. “But I won’t pester you. You can tell me anytime you want, y’know.”
“I will. Thank you for your concern,” She told him, much too formal for people who were supposed to be dating. She seemed to not have gotten the hang of it yet, Zeke thought. Though, it was somewhat adorable to him.
“See you later at the common room,” He bid her farewell and turned to leave before feeling an idea creep into his mind—he gave her a brisk kiss on her temple, walking away before she could react. He knew she’s be blushing indignantly since there was a maid who incidentally saw it happen and let out a tiny gasp, and knowing Mòrag, she was never comfortable with publicity of her feelings.
He will take note and be careful in the future, he decided.
Mòraag finally shooed off the several noblewomen who were asking her about some gossip within the Ardainian royal family. She was in no mood to gossip—and besides, she knew little of the whispers that slipped around normally.
A hand flew to her forehead as she touched the side of her head, remembering how Zeke had planted a kiss right there an hour ago. It was ridiculous to get embarrassed over such a miniscule action, but she noticed one of the young maids were staring without even hiding it, going so far as not to stifle the gasp that flew out of her mouth.
Suddenly, the noblewomen asking her about gossip made some sort of sense.
She sighed, hoping to get some rest after a day of work. She had completed all there was to do for the day, and enjoying her night with her friends did not sound so bad—
She just reached the hallway on their level when someone jumped out from behind a pillar, dashed behind her and snatched her hat clean off her head.
“Ozychlyrus,” She scoffed, feeling more intensely flustered than ever.
He fit the hat to his head, trotting back into the common room without looking at her. “Sorry, Ladair, I got work to do.”
She hurried into the common room after him, patting down the ruffled hair caused by the sudden action of her hat being lifted off.
Brighid was at the door, leaning against the frame and a book propped open in her hands. “You two are like children,” She mused snarkily.
“Do not tease me further, Brighid,” She complained, focusing her gaze elsewhere so everyone wouldn’t notice her furious blush.
Her blade followed her in. “I can’t understand why you continue to let him belittle you.”
“It’s not belittling… uhm, it’s just… I think it’s rather…” She struggled to find the words to describe it. “Forget it.”
Zeke was writing his own report in the seat opposite of the one Mòrag usually occupies, her hat still sitting on his head. She walked over and sat across him, giving him a bemused look.
He seemed to notice her approach, and looked up. “Hey,” He spoke briefly and returned his sight to his papers.
“Brighid seems to think you are making light of me,” She said nonchalantly, not knowing how to feel either.
“I’m not,” Zeke muttered, continue to scribble whatever report he was writing. Tying up the ends, he finally looked up at her. “Sorry if it bothers you. I know you’re not good at reacting to these.”
“It’s fine, I can tolerate it.” Mòrag replied, shrugging.
“Good,” Zeke broke into a grin. “I think your blushing expression is incredibly adorable.”
“W-what?” Her face immediately heated up once again, looking away and shielding her face with both of her hands.
Zeke let out a hearty laugh, taking off the hat and putting it back on her head. “There, to cover your blush,” He told her.
“You are insufferable,” Mòrag complained, glaring at him through the slits between her fingers.
“I know.”
“What were you writing?” Mòrag asked, hoping to change the topic and that her damned face would stop flushing so hard that half of the blades in the room were staring at her.
“Ah, my old man was trying to see if we could make peace with the folks who were using the ruins of Theosoir for their base.”
“How do you feel about that?”
Zeke shrugged indifferently and looked away. “It’s in ruins anyway. It’s up to them.” He spoke as if it did not bother him, but his voice lacked his usual power.
“Please do not hide it if you feel hurt about it,” Mòrag offered. “I will not make light of you, unlike the other way round.”
“You didn’t tell me what was bothering you this afternoon,” Zeke retorted, leaning back towards her with a fake frown.
“Fine,” Mòrag crossed her arms and leaned towards him, signaling him to listen. “So there is a man—a noble from Mor Ardain who used to have ties to me, who wishes to court me at the moment. Are you satisfied in knowing now?”
“Wha—now? Of all times? But I mean, if it is necessary for your position, I don’t mind.”
“Of course I will not be accepting,” She hissed under her breath. “However, I have not told Brighid about this yet. Please refrain from telling her until I do so.”
“I won’t. Why aren’t you telling her, though?”
“It is quite complicated, my relationship with him. Brighid seems to have mixed feelings about him, so this might send her off her rockers.”
“Ah, I see. Good to know you’re still with me.” He grinned, earning an eye roll from her. Suddenly, as if remembering something, a sly glint crept into her eyes.
“So, in exchange for telling you that, you are to let me know how you feel about Theosoir.”
“That’s messed up, Mòrag.” Zeke frowned. “Sometimes I do not even want to think about it, but it’s been done anyway. I didn’t really spend that much time there after my mother died and I was banished, but it’s still my home, y’know? And me and my old man worked hard to rebuild the place for three years. For all that to just crumble, it’s not a good feeling.”
“I am sorry for being insensitive.”
“No, it’s good. Just don’t mention it to Pandoria. She seems to like it better if we pretend it didn’t happen or forget about it.”
A ball of electricity flew across the room and smacked Zeke on the back of his head. “Tell me what?” Pandoria’s voice came closer as she went over, with Electra trailing behind her.
“How great of a blade you are,” Zeke lied without missing a beat.
“About things you do not wish to discuss about. Dark secrets that should never be betrayed to the world,” Mòrag followed up quickly.
“You two are the worst liars I have ever seen, it makes you look stupid,” Pandoria giggled. “Anyway, I guess couples got their own secrets, huh. I just hope you weren’t talking smack behind my back,” She narrowed her eyes particularly at Zeke, who coiled.
“Not a chance,” Zeke reassured his blade. “But I am surely a better liar than Mòrag is, right?” He winked at said woman, who bristled immediately.
“I am rather skilled at negotiating with merchants who regularly request to hear about national secrets,” Mòrag spoke defensively and quickly, unwilling to lose.
“What have you done?” Pandoria exclaimed at Zeke. “Now you’re gonna make her write an essay on how she’s better at lying. You know she doesn’t like to lose!”
Zeke smiled widely at Mòrag. “Of course I know that.” was all he said.
Mòrag looked at them questioningly. “Relax, I will not be fighting today. However, do not try to best me again, for I will leave you in shambles.”
“Chill!” Zeke looked visibly taken aback by her statement. “You’re scary sometimes.”
“I was making a sarcastic remark!” Mòrag’s eyes widened earnestly. “I did not mean to threaten you.”
“Would you look at that, Mòrag’s making jokes!” Pandoria laughed. “You’ve still got ways to go, but if it successfully intimidates my prince, then I’ve got no problem with it.”
“Is it really that bad?” Mòrag turned to ask Electra who sat herself next to her. The electric blade nodded hesitantly, leaving Mòrag sighing again.
She enjoyed it, though. It was nice to be among friends who made light banter with each other. She never knew how much she needed it until she began to travel with Rex’s group—it was as if she was brought back to life again, after the years of soulless and repetitive military training routines.
They soon set off on their first expedition to calm the turmoil caused by the rampaging flesh eater blades in Mor Ardain. Rex, Nia and Mòrag were deployed to investigate the area behind the old factory, while Zeke and Tora explored the area around Alba Cavanich.
Mòrag had been repeatedly inquired as to why she did not take the path of checking out the area around her own home, but she refused to offer an answer, while Brighid merely shrugged everytime she was asked.
Zeke understood almost immediately—she feared going near her home in case a scenario similar to Theosoir happened. He wanted to console her about it, tell her it would be alright, but he found himself struggling to find the words to say so when he was not recovered from mourning for his own home yet.
When they neared Alba Cavanich, Zeke let out a sigh of relief. The buildings were still mostly intact, and the palace was still as untouched as it was the night they went for the party. The streets were empty now, filled with only rolling clumps of dust and fragments of the demolished stalls and buildings.
“No sign of life?” Tora bounded over to him, asking.
Zeke shook his head. “I don’t see anyone, but we have to stay alert.”
Pandoria’s lightbulbs flashed. “I can sense someone somewhere in the vicinity. But I don’t know where they are.”
“Friends stay careful!” Poppi warned, transforming into alpha mode to avoid detection better.
As they rounded the corner at the barely recognizable plaza, whispers of two voices came out from behind one of the abandoned stacked crates.
They immediately held out their weapons at the ready, inching closer to the source of the voices—but they did not have to. Two blade-looking people leapt out and drew their weapons, their core crystals flashing in a horrifying dark scarlet color.
“Flesh eaters,” Tora remarked, holding out his shield to block a heavy blow from the blade using a lance.
“I can see that,” Zeke responded, switching to Adenine as he swung his fists at the other blade, forcing them to parry repeatedly at his flurry of punches.
“You two are part of those Imperial scum, huh?” The lance blade snarled.
His companion jumped back and narrowly dodged a swing from Tora’s spinning shield. “That’s the prince of Tantal!” She hissed, the fear apparent in her eyes. “We’re no match for them!”
“I don’t care,” The lance blade snapped. “If we complete this mission perfectly I get to be promoted.” He whirled around to position himself behind Tora and Zeke and before they could react, two more blades appeared out of thin air behind the flesh eater, their weapons also glowing with a nasty shade of red.
“I command you to defeat them!” The lance blade yelled, and the two new blades nodded, charging at the two of them. Seeing her companion pull out his blades, the female flesh eater raised a hand, summoning a blade of her own, who dived forward without the need of orders and began slashing at them with two cyan hued rings.
Zeke barely parried attack before jumping back to deflect another attack. They were severely outnumbered, and facing against all flesh eaters lowered their odds even further.
They didn’t let up, however. Tora, with his infuriating nopon determination, swapped between his blades skillfully and attacked while blocking at the right times to allow Zeke to strike in between openings. Zeke utilized Pandoria’s electricity to send stray bolts flying at the enemy as a distraction to allow himself enough time to swing his large sword forwards.
Soon, the flesh eaters seemed to grow weary, their attacks gradually becoming less powerful as they focused on dodging and blocking instead of the aggressive offensive tactic they used at the start.
“They’re strong, boss!” The female flesh eater called, yelping as Zeke’s sword struck millimeters away from her toe.
The blade with the lance growled and glared at her. “We have a job to finish. If they’re working for the Empire then they are part of the elimination list.”
“But we can’t win this!” His companion argued, before finally being struck down by a heavy slam from Poppi’s shield. She squeaked in pain, tumbling to the floor while she desperately tried to search for her sword that had flown out of her hand.
Distracted, the lance blade failed to notice a blast from Poppi’s saber coming right at him, sending him toppling onto the floor as well.
Zeke jabbed his sword tip at them. “Speak. Who do you work for?” He demanded.
“Like I’m telling you my boss’s name,” The sword blade retorted, averting her gaze.
“You are at my mercy,” Zeke commanded. “What is your purpose of destroying the empire? How will that benefit you when the empire is one of the largest sanctuaries for blades?”
“That’s our boss’s motive. Our lives were saved by him, so we work for him.” The blade responded.
Her companion flashed her a glance. “According to boss, the empire mistreats blades that are not powerful enough. Blades like us are simply nothing but tools given to soldiers to wield in senseless battle before they die and we restart that wretched life.”
Zeke shook his head. “And how do you suppose you can prevent future battles when you are causing more violence amidst a warring world?”
“Don’t you understand? People like you have such elite and powerful blades, standing on your almighty pedestal as you save the world. We’re not preventing wars, we are trying to help give every blade an equal chance to live! Think about it! Have you ever used your less powerful blades even more than a few times?”
Zeke was left stunned for several heartbeats when he realized the blade was correct. “Still, this is no way to resolve the problem. Once the war is over, we can make arrangements with the government to assist you. Besides, I’m curious—do the Ardainian soldiers not treat you well?”
“Well… they do… most times,” The female blade looked troubled. “But I refuse to live a life where we die and forget, die, and forget… It’s no life if I have to awake without the memories of a good life before. Surely you understand.” She looked at Pandoria, Adenine and Vale behind Zeke.
Pandoria looked visibly struck by the statement. Nervously tapping her fingers together, she spoke in an unusually solemn voice. “Well… because of our shared crystal, I go as soon as he does, but… I can’t recall my previous life either. The king told me tales of how I fought at the Queen of Tantal’s side before, but I can’t seem to remember any of that. It’s like people remember me as a completely different person.”
Adenine looked up from where she was reading a page in her book. “Indeed. I have gained multitudes of knowledge in the time that I have been your blade. There is only so much I can record in my book, and I cannot imagine loosening my grasp on such valuable information.”
The two blades looked over to Vale, who simply crossed her arms and looked away. “I like you guys. Something tells me I didn’t like my old drivers, but you guys are cool. I don’t want to die either.”
Poppi seemed utterly confused about their information. “Poppi has data storage to keep memories intact for years!” She announced proudly.
“Not everyone can be as lucky as you, little one,” The female flesh eater told Poppi. “Listen, the boss had commanded us to take out you people, but…” She looked at their blades. “You should consider what we’re fighting for.”
“You trying to recruit us?” Zeke asked, raising an eyebrow.
“No,” The sword flesh eater retorted. “We’ve been defeated anyway. We’re trying to ask you to get your head out of your arse and see why we fight for our cause. The boss isn’t a bad person.”
“Nice way to talk yourself out of defeat from the Zekenator,” Zeke scoffed, but he retracted his sword and allowed the two flesh eater blades to scamper off with their own blades, watching them disappear into the shadows.
“You considering what they said?” Pandoria asked him, the concern in her voice jarringly different from her playful nature.
Before he could muster up a reply, rapid footsteps came thumping along the street. They looked back to see Mòrag’s group hurrying towards them, an urgent glare in her expression as she skidded to a halt before them.
“Did they get away?” Mòrag demanded. “Do not fret, I shall take care of the stragglers—”
Zeke grabbed her hand to stop her from running after the escaping blades. “No, listen,” He shook his head and indicated for them to listen. He told them what the flesh eater blades told him, watching as Nia and Rex’s expressions morph into a kind of worrisome seriousness.
“Well…” Rex looked over to Nia, who had her head lowered in thought.
After a moment, Nia lifted her head again, locking her eyes with Zeke’s. “No. They must understand the burden of being alive for so many long and dreadful years… You may keep your memories, but you’ll have to live while seeing the people beside you die,” She looked over to Pyra and Mythra as if to draw some kind of affirmation. “Ages of good and bad memories continuously building up in your head… until you almost forget the beginning, where you were simple and free… being a flesh eater is not as great as it seems.”
Mythra seemed to agree. “I have to live all the time knowing that I accidentally blew up half a country. My friends from Torna...” She gave Brighid a stare. “Even if they still exist, they no longer remember me as the person I was. The rest of them all eventually die.”
“Were you not able to make new friends afterwards?” Mòrag asked.
“Of course, but it still doesn’t erase the memories of my old friends. I know I’m not replacing them, but the more friends you meet along the way, the more people you will grow to miss.”
The group fell into a tense silence, none of them daring to break it as the blades contemplated their lives.
Pyra was the first to speak after the silence. “Maybe we should head back and plan another expedition sometime?” She suggested. “I know Mòrag would want to solve this peacefully.”
“Of course,” The special inquisitor nodded. “Their proposition makes sense to a degree. However, we must let them know it is not a feasible operation in the long term.”
They followed her lead back to their base in Tantal, their trip awkwardly quieter than usual, with only the occasional chattering from Poppi and Tora. The rest of them seemed deeply conflicted between believing the flesh eaters or Nia and Mythra.
“I forgot to ask. What did you guys find on your end?” Zeke asked.
“Nothing much. Just some buildings ruined and drunk soldiers charging at each other on the streets,” Mòrag replied, making a face of disgust at the image. “How is the palace?” She visibly tried to mask her anxiousness, but her words came out much quicker than normal.
“It’s still intact,” Zeke reassured her. “Try not to worry so much about that for now.”
“I know,” Mòrag replied tartly. “I never allow emotions to cloud my judgement.”
Not long after, another excursion was instigated. Once again deploying to Mor Ardain, Zeke led the way this time, following the trail of where they found the flesh eaters the previous time. They did not split up this time, for there was nothing more to discover on the other side.
“Watch out,” Rex called to the rest of them as he led the way on Zeke’s directions, heading down the stairs to an opening to a cave in a rocky area at the back of Alba Cavanich.
“Do you think they’re hiding in there?” Pyra asked, peeking in with the assistance of the dim light from a tiny flame she summoned in her palm.
“There is a large possibility,” Mòrag replied. “Zeke mentioned they came from this direction, unless they have an even larger base somewhere beyond here.”
“Alright, let’s just head in,” Mythra began impatiently, moving to enter, but Rex grabbed her arm to slow her down, causing the light blade to blush with a scathing expression on her face.
Rex shook his head at her. “We need to prepare ourselves first, right, Mòrag?” He asked the special inquisitor, who nodded. “We can head in after that.”
“Whatever. Don’t tell me what to do,” Mythra snapped, but didn’t let go of his hand.
Poppi scanned the area before poking at Tora, muttering something to her driver. Tora perked up eagerly after that.
“Poppi suggests that friends bring out most defensive blades!” Tora repeated his blades words. Poppi hopped and nodded vigorously. “Poppi’s analysis concludes that friends should increase defenses. Data show that attacking will lead to a 30% of disadvantage from too many many enemies.”
“Nice thinking, Poppi,” Zeke told her, summoning Electra from her core crystal. “Let’s go, buddy.”
“Of course!” Electra beamed, before looking over to Mòrag and giving her a wink. Confused, Mòrag shook it off and summoned Brighid while Tora swapped to Poppi Qt and Rex kept Pyra and Mythra both present. Nia, who was in her blade form, summoned Dromarch, in order to both be able to heal the party in case of an emergency.
They stepped in the cave, the core crystals of their blades illuminating the path ahead of them. Surprisingly, the cave system did not have many branches. It was growing suspicious that they seemed to continue picking the correct path, feeling themselves go deeper into the ground as the air became damper.
“We should almost be there,” Rex told them, a nervous tone drowning out his confidence.
Mòrag felt her hair stand on end—somewhere in the distance, she could hear footsteps. Not just from one person, but multiple—likely their enemies. She had no idea where they were coming from, but the number surely was not small. She eyed Zeke sideways, who met her gaze with an understanding expression. He gave a tiny nod, signaling her to alert the others.
“Everyone,” She spoke under her breath, hoping not to give away their positions. “I believe we might be walking into a trap.”
“What do you mean—” Rex was about to ask before he barely dodged a huge metal bitball flying towards his head. “Oh no!”
“Stay on your guard!” Mòrag commanded, sending a whipsword flying out to deflect an attack that was aimed right at an unknowing Zeke’s arm.
“Right,” Zeke responded, flipping his shield hammer to the side and creating a barrier. “You know I don’t play defensive much,” He grumbled as his feet dug into the wet gravel beneath them from the force of an incoming slash.
Rex seemingly had the advantage, with the ability to control two blades at once, Pyra and Mythra almost left no opening for the enemies to reach the young driver, while simultaneously allowing him to strike with the combined Aegis sword, sending small arrows of radiance whizzing through the enemy ranks and disrupting their order. Poppi and Tora did the same—her missiles came in a barrage, hitting any enemy that got close to their group.
Nia and Dromarch already had their weapons held out, drenching the air around them with a cool mist that healed any wounds they suffered, giving the enemy even more difficulty in denting their defenses.
They made quick work of the enemies, carefully leaving them injured enough to stop their pursuit. Continuing along the dirt path, Mòrag was acutely aware of how the path began to narrow down into one small tunnel that only allowed one person to fit its width. Their blades temporarily returned to their core crystals to make room for everyone to pass, so they had to brush their hands along the walls to carry on walking in pitch darkness.
“We should probably lure the enemy out instead—” Mòrag opened her mouth to suggest, but she stopped when they reached a large circular opening at the end of the tunnel. The room was dimly lit with lanterns around the walls, and there were weapons and chairs scattered all across the ground in a chaotic fashion.
The room seemed to be empty save for one lone figure standing at the centre of the room—a short and lean man with a greataxe sheathed behind his back.
Upon noticing their arrival, the man grinned eerily at the group and extended his arms as if readying himself for an embrace.
“Why do you people oppose my ideals?” He asked, his voice sounding way too young to be a seasoned warrior. “I only long to offer salvation to the many unfortunate blades whose fate was doomed by the doings of you royalty, but here you are, playing the hero again…” He frowned, reaching behind his back to pull out the greataxe.
“What you are doing does not help the situation at all,” Mòrag argued, keeping Brighid in her core crystal to hopefully avoid any further violence. They were partially worn down by the previous battle and they had no idea of the enemies that might lurk in the room. “You are merely creating more violence by declaring war on the empire.”
The boy laughed mirthlessly. “People from the empire were the ones who I saw who put all these common blades on sale at some shaggy market stall. And you, special inquisitor—you have no right to comment on what I do when you yourself are the owner of such a large army of ‘rare’ blades. How does the value of a blade lower just because they are less fancy? I see you people only offering ‘common’ blades to beginner rank soldiers and offering the higher ranking officers the ‘rare’ ones. What made you think you decide the abilities of a blade?”
“Their abilities were set from the moment their core crystals were created,” Mòrag told him. “There is a limit to how much each blade can grow, and an army requires strong blades in order to maintain its power.”
“And so you toss away the weaker ones? Every time a soldier gets promoted, where does their old blade go?” The boy demanded. “People market blades like they’re worthless objects. I see them as living beings too.”
“It’s not just the empire doing that, though,” Rex defended Mòrag.
Zeke gave a hum of agreement. “People all across Elysium are doing this. You cannot stop the corruption of people when a society progresses. That’s why we are helping to bring peace to the land. We side with the blades, don’t you get it?”
“I know that countries other than Mor Ardain are condoning such foul acts. That’s why I declare war on all of them! Also—I am not working with the likes of you—protecting the blades from the opposing side is not enough to stop the cycle of the blades’ suffering. I will create a world where only blades rule!” He announced, a feral gleam in his eye as he held out and arm. At once, at least twenty blades appeared behind him, all armed with weapons of their own.
“You fool… you resonated with all of them?” Zeke exclaimed. “How are you deploying all of them at once?”
“Because I gave them hope!” The boy shouted. “By becoming flesh eaters, all of us can coexist for years to go!”
Rex frowned at the boy, then looked back at Mòrag, who merely offered him an exasperated sigh. He took it as permission—letting the gleaming turquoise Aegis sword materialize in his hand as both Pyra and Mythra appeared on either side of him. Mòrag let out Brighid and Aegaeon, as well as a dark blade named Mutsuki. Tora had Poppi transform into her Qtipi form to appear more intimidating, while Zeke summoned Pandoria, Electra and Obrona, their electricity dancing in a loop around him menacingly.
“It can’t be—” The boy looked visibly taken aback, the fear apparent in his eyes as he saw the Aegis and the Jewels of the empire. “You’re the Aegis—do you not understand what I’m doing?”
Pyra offered the boy a kind smile. “I can sense your will to help them, but you’re destroying the cycle created by the architect. I can see the reason behind your act, but…” She seemed lost for words when Mythra cut her off.
“Are you seriously daft?” Mythra snarled at him. “Becoming flesh eaters, and injecting such a large amount of blades into you? It won’t save anyone. It’ll just kill you. You are just a kid with delusional attempts to save the world”
“If you don’t stop here, you’ll… become another Amalthus…” Nia murmured, anxiousness clouding her expression.
“Who is Amalthus? Is his will similar to mine?” The mention of someone similar seemed to pique the boy’s interest. His tone remained tart and rude, however.
“Not so much like yours, boy,” Dromarch told him calmly. “But he was disgusted by the world and decided to destroy it by utilizing whatever blade he could find.”
“That is nothing like me!” The boy yelled.
“However,” Dromarch continued. “If you continue to resonate with more blades to support your cause, you will end up a wretched beast like Amalthus did—he absorbed thousands of core crystals and transformed into a creature neither human or blade.”
“Even if I did, it will be to help the blades. I am already a blade eater—there is nothing for me to lose! I want blades to live a life where they get to choose their own path.”
“And what makes you think you know how every blade feels?” Brighid questioned him. He visibly cowered at the blade as she and Aegaeon loomed over the boy. She looked over to Mutsuki, who smiled and shrugged.
“I was awakened by lady Mòrag, and I’ll do my part in helping her. If I roamed the world free, I don’t even know where or what I’d be going or doing! At least helping these guys now give my life a purpose, and that’s what it matters.”
“You don’t remember if you had a glorious life before you returned to your core crystal last time,” The boy continued to argue.
Pyra stepped forward. “We as the Aegises are the keepers of blades’ memories every time they are reawakened, and trust me—most of them are content about their lives. Besides… after the World Tree fell, we will have no idea how blades grow into titans or if they remain dead forever once they pass. There is still much to learn about blades.”
“Also, these blades think the same as you because you’re their driver. If we had awakened those blades, they might’ve been against you,” Mythra added. She walked forward past the boy and nodded at the blade who was standing several inches behind his driver. He seemed slightly apprehensive, his stare wavered when he gazed directly back at the Aegis herself, but he did not back away.
“What’s your name?” Mythra asked him.
“Arufumi,” He replied, seemingly less afraid of Mythra now that she addressed him casually.
“Tell me, Arufumi, do you really agree on what your driver thinks or are you her out of obligation?”
“I don’t know…” The blade hesitated and looked to his driver with an imploring look as if asking for help.
“Don’t listen to her,” The boy snapped. “I know you’re the Aegis, but I will not let you interfere with what I’m doing. You guys clearly will not listen to reason and if that’s how it is, I’ll fight you!” He readied his sword while also grasping a lance in his other hand, the ragged fragment of a core crystal that was brashly embedded into the skin on his chest glowing.
“You’re the one who does not want to liste—” Mòrag tried to rebut, but Zeke shushed her and shook his head, indicating that there was no negotiating with him.
Rex grabbed Mythra and pulled her back. “We’re not fighting him,” He declared to the group.
“But I am fighting you! I want people to repent for what they do to blades!” The boy yelled.
“We only wanted to talk!” Nia screeched over the sound of him yelling.
The boy ignored her and charged, aiming straight for Tora, who was the closest target. Poppi, diligent as ever, dived in front of her driver and fired two blast from her saber to parry the attack, but because she was not a defender, the force of the attack still left her wide open.
“Don’t fight them, just run first!” Rex commanded and they ran, thought Mòrag noticed some of the flesh eaters in the room seemed to falter when running after their driver as if reconsidering their cause.
Letting everyone else leave first, Mòrag held her position at the rear to guard any attack that pursued them. Brighid was effectively creating hexagonal shields continuously, blocking any means of enemies’s attacks.
They neared the entrance, and the enemy seemed to let up, their footsteps dying down and retreating far into the cave.
“How are we going to help him?” Pyra exclaimed immediately. “We gotta stop him!”
“He’s just a child,” Mòrag agreed. “We simply cannot fight him. He is merely a misguided child who somehow obtained such a large army.”
They returned to the Tantalese base, agreeing to pay the boy one more visit several days after. Pyra seemed determined to change the boy’s mind, and Mòrag was completely in favor of helping the young boy as well.
Niall entered Mòrag’s room the day after they returned from their failed expedition. “How is the search going, sister?” He asked, plopping himself onto her bed. The emperor seemed more comfortable with being more casual now especially with his sister and their friends.
“Not well,” Mòrag sighed. “The ‘culprit’ is merely a young boy who looks even younger than you.”
“How did he manage to awaken so many blades?” Niall questioned genuinely.
“By being a blade eater. His blades then kill people to become flesh eaters and resonate with their own blades, so it’s a continuous chain of mutated blades.”
“That is… positively vile,” Niall commented. “Do you require assistance from the Imperial Army? I don’t suppose you guys can defeat him alone.”
Mòrag shook her head. “I do not plan to. He is a boy who acts alone on his own belief that he is saving the blades. He is not connected to any other division or army. Besides, he is only a child. I cannot fight a child.”
“Well, if the situation calls for it, you will have to fight him. If you cannot convince him, you can’t keep running from him forever. His army will continue to grow and you will be stuck where you were with no progress of stopping him.”
“There must be a way to convince him! If we send in large numbers, it will provoke him even further. He is a blade eater like Zeke—I understand the immense power he holds, with his army consisting of no humans.”
“I suppose you have a clear understanding of Prince Zeke’s powers?” Niall asked.
“Well… up close, perhaps we sparred once or twice…he did defeat me once. From afar, I believe he is quite decently skilled—though crass at times that allow enemies to land unnecessary hits on him when he could have easily avoided attacks. He values style over substance—so all of his attacks spend a good amount of time charging up before landing, but once it hits, it should be rather powerful…” She began to gave an evaluation as her brother watched with a smirk.
“You sure observe him a lot,” Niall snickered, sounding much like a teenager than ever.
“Well, I simply evaluated his strength from what I concluded during our training and battles. It is useful to understand your allies,” Mòrag explained matter-of-factly.
Niall laughed. “You do know that I am aware of your relationship with the prince of Tantal, right?”
“Wh—but I have not told you yet!” Mòrag was instantly stammering again, tensing up in agitation.
“Relax, sister! I only discovered this when Nia dragged me to tea last week and told me. She said I needed to know more about you and your friends.”
“Nia was bothering you? I shall—”
“No, she was not,” Niall sighed. “I will be fine, I’ve got Captain Padraig and Captain Jac defending me. Nia was quite an enjoyable company, if I have to be honest.”
“Apologies. I am not used to informalities any more than you.” Mòrag offered her brother a tired smile.
“Back to the subject of blade eaters—do you think the boy’s power equals to Zeke’s?” Niall queried.
“No, I do not.,” Mòrag answered truthfully. “He might have an advantage in numbers, but he seems inexperienced and he is much too emotionally driven. On the other hand, Zeke holds himself behind a façade during battles that never allow enemies to predict his next movement, and he has had years of battle experience.”
“Do not let me waver your judgement, sister. Do what you believe is right,” Niall told her. “I trust you—but just endeavor to remain safe.”
“Of course, Niall. I will ensure the safety of everyone,” Mòrag replied.
“Not just everyone, yourself. Remember to look after yourself too.” Niall frowned.
“I will,” Mòrag answered, though Niall still looked doubtful, so she offered him the best smile she could muster.
She was rewarded with a cheeky grin from Niall. “You look much less convincing when smiling,” He told her, but he accepted her words and left her room shortly after.
Not even several minutes later, a knock on her door sent her to the doorway, but she frowned when she recognized the visitor.
“Greetings, Acair,” Mòrag nodded stiffly to the man.
“Why so tense, dear? We’ve reunited and I can’t wait to catch up.” He told her while smiling. She only backed away several steps.
“Apologies, but I have to plan my next mission,” Mòrag told him, bowing her head politely.
“That was not how you were all those years ago,” he scoffed. “I assisted you in uncovering your parents—”
“That is enough,” Mòrag said, attempting to silence him from loudly speaking of events that should be kept secret.
“I knew there was something between us,” Acair argued, stepping closer to her, forcing her to step back the same amount back through her doorway.
She opened her mouth to dismiss him once more, but fortunately for her, Zeke popped out from around the corner. Immediately noticing her defensive position, he strode forwards towards them.
Bowing at Acair, he addressed Mòrag directly. “Who’s this?” He asked her, eyeing the man head to toe.
“He is… an old acquaintance—”
“We used to be an item back then,” Acair interjected, glaring at Zeke. “You seem to be interrupting our conversation.”
Zeke shrugged. “Miss Ladair doesn’t seem too into your conversation,” He told him plainly.
“Why does that concern you, prince of Tantal? Just because you all had a nice adventure with the Aegis does not automatically raise your position in any way.”
Zeke ignored him and lightly shoved past him and Mòrag into her room. “If you excuse me, I have to help Mòrag with something,” He said while waving a sheet of paper as if to certify his words. “You guys can chat another time.”
“Just because he is the prince does not mean you can allow random men into your room,” Acair snapped at Mòrag.
“I do not allow random men to interrupt on my work either. That is enough.” Mòrag retorted. “See you around, Acair.” She bowed politely and shut the door without waiting for his response.
“Alright there?” Zeke asked. “Guy seemed pretty insistent.”
“You… should not be in my room either,” Mòrag murmured, as if realizing something.
“Oh—” Zeke blushed, but soon shook it off. “Well, we are an item, are we not? Besides, I marked out a map for getting back into the cave. I thought you might not have time for that, so I memorized our route.”
“Thank you.”
“So… about that guy, was he the one you were talking about?” Zeke wondered.
Mòrag sighed. “He is not a bad person, and things were quite complicated. That is all I will let you know for now.” She paused before offering his shoulder a gentle pat. “Please do not worry for my sake.”
“I trust you’ll be fine,” Zeke responded. “You have never disappointed once during the time I knew you.”
“Do not flatter me so, I am merely fulfilling my duty,” Mòrag told him, but she smiled anyway.
“About the mission tomorrow… let’s do our best, Flamebringer,” Zeke grinned.
“Of course, Ozychlyrus Tantal. Failure is not permittable, not when we can save a life.”
“Hey, it’s Thunderbolt Zeke,” He argued when she used his full name. “But ‘dear’ or ‘sweetheart’ works too.” He gave her a wink.
“I will not be addressing you in that fashion. Now return to your quarters—there is much for the both of us to finish.” Mòrag escorted him to the doorway and opened the door, only to find Acair still standing at the door, looking completely baffled.
“WHAT are you doing outside my room, Acair?” Mòrag demanded.