Sleeping Gods Quest #51

You don't have time for this. Or maybe you do have the time to spare on indulging Ishida's stubborn pride, but you don't have the inclination. Either way, you're not in the mood to humour her.

Locking eyes with Ishida, you reach deep within your heart and call upon Lapis' magic. With the authority of a dragon bolstering your words, you bark out a quick order. Stop right there, you order her, and drop the weapon.

Ishida doesn't say a thing in response, but the hollow, echoing sound of the sword tumbling from her hand is the only response you need. Her hand – still vainly outstretched, frozen in the act of guarding against an attack that will never come – trembles slightly as you approach her. Taking Veragi's dagger in hand, you reach out and cut a thin line down her cheek, a cut that is both shallow and harmless. Pressing your finger to the tiny wound, you hold your hand up to her face – a single bead of blood gathered on your extended finger.

First blood, you tell her simply, now can she drop the issue?

“You...” Ishida slurs as the magic pinning her in place begins to wear off, “You're a bastard.”

You'll apologise for this, you reply, and for offending her. What you won't apologise for, on the other hand, is what you said to Selene. You won't take back those words.

“You spit in my face like that, and now you say you'll apologise for it?” Ishida bends down to pick up her sword, savagely thrusting it back into its sheath, “You're a dog.”

A dog that wants out of these tunnels as soon as possible, you point out, a motivation that you thought she would understand. Ishida doesn't respond to that, merely taking up her lantern and stalking off ahead of you. For the moment, her fear of venturing off alone seems to have faded, drowned out by her anger. Shaking your head at her stubbornness, you take off after her.

[1/2]

I told you about mind control anons.

I guess.

Still she's being really unreasonable.
>I want to fight you even though I know you are right
>After you fought an abomination and are injured.
>In the tunnels I am afraid of collapsing.
>But you can't use your full strength if it has anything to do with the mind.

She'll get over it. Hopefully.

When you catch up with her at last, you can't help but notice a slight tension escaping from Ishida's bunched shoulders. It's replaced by a new stress, of course – a new anger, one directed at you rather than the dank tunnels surrounding her – but that's something you can deal with. After walking in silence for a while, you say her name aloud. She ignores you the first time, but when you repeat yourself, she glances around to glare at you.

“What?” she snaps, “What is it?”

It might be difficult for her to see it this way, you begin quietly, but she should think about braving these tunnels some more in future. Selene, in your opinion, would benefit from having someone – some mortal – coming to speak with her, face to face. It might give her the anchor she needs, something to keep her mind from drifting too far into vague and indistinct futures. Getting the human perspective on things certainly couldn't hurt either. What does she think?

“Shit,” Ishida spits out, “Fine – the truth. You've got a point. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

You didn't need her to admit it, you think to yourself, you already knew that you had a valid point.

“But if you're asking me to make a nice stroll down here into part of my weekly routine...” she shakes her head savagely, “Forget it. If the situation demands it – if I receive orders – I'll do my duty. That's it – that's all you'll get out of me.”

Fine, you shrug, but you can't be here all the time. Someone's going to need to step up, and she's a good candidate for it. Something for her to think about, at least.

Ishida doesn't reply to that, simply pressing onwards towards the tunnel exit, and the glint of daylight that lies beyond.

>Say something to her (Write in)
>Leave her be
>Other

>Say something to her (Write in)
"Sorry Ishida. What I did was very rude. I guess I'm a tired old man more than I thought. If you feel the need to we can settle this another time, no magic. You know where to find me."

>Leave her be
We'll just dig Ira deeper otherwise.

I guess this. We could explain that we're ready to fight her but just under better circumstances.

What you did, you say slowly as you walk together, was inexcusably rude. She'll have to forgive that of you – you never did quite master the intricacies of etiquette and polite manner. Sometimes, you slip up and do something... crass.

“Furyo,” Ishida replies coldly, “I'm fairly sure that stealing someone's will is a grave offence, no matter how polite – or crude – your company might be. You'd have to be a damned fool to think otherwise.”

That sums you up pretty well, you reply, a tired old fool that just couldn't face the task of moving his old bones again.

“You're full of crap, Furyo,” the priestess spits, but this time there is a faint trace of humour in her voice – reluctant humour, to be fair, but humour nonetheless.

If she ever wants to give that fight a proper try, you continue, she knows where to find you. Anywhere but here, you add a second later, and you'd be happy to indulge her. These damp, deathly tunnels are hardly a fitting place to fight for one's honour, after all.

“I'll take you up on that,” she replies, “A good and proper duel, carried out before the eyes of all those who matter. Yes, I rather like the idea... We'd need to make it a good show, of course. It wouldn't do to disappoint Miu... the crowd, I mean.”

Of course, you agree, so... you're even?

“Even?” Ishida finally turns around to look you in the eye, “Not yet, Furyo, but we're not enemies either. That's the best I'm prepared to offer you right now.”

Then that is what you'll accept.

“Now let's just get out of here,” she grunts, “I think my feet are starting to rot.”

Agreeing with her, you put a little extra pace into your step and soon, the exit is before you. Ishida is the first to leave, meeting the weak sunlight with a heavy sigh. You follow her out, grateful for the dry ground beneath your feet.

>Wait at the convoy for the others
>Head to Selene's temple
>Make your own way back to the Nameless Temple
>Other

>Head to Selene's temple

>>Head to Selene's temple

>>Head to Selene's temple
Well that could have gone worse.

Although you don't walk together, both you and Ishida head towards the grand white spire that is Selene's temple. While you can't speak for Ishida's motives, you're interested in how the Emperor's visit went. Maab, you're certain, would have been careful to keep things from getting out of hand, but you can hardly say the same about Sho. For all his recent improvements, his newfound maturity and perspective, he still has a somewhat... irresponsible sense of humour, one that bows to neither status or tradition.

Or, to put it in a more direct way, he's an idiot.

You soon lose Ishida in the maze of streets, but that's hardly an issue. She knows the way, sure enough, and you don't exactly need to watch her every move. So, fixing your eyes instead on the great beacon rising high above Garuna, you make your way up into the temple grounds. When you arrive, the place is busy – very busy indeed. Soldiers of both kinds – the Emperor's chosen guards and the Garuna militia – rub shoulders and give each other rough looks, while priestesses roam like a scattered flock of doves.

It all looks terribly formal, and here you are – with a bloodied hand and trousers stiff with filth. Really, you consider, you don't look too different from normal.

Although some of the militia look unsure about your presence here, nobody tries to stop you or bar your passage. It seems that the formalities have passed, and now the visiting party is being treated to a kind of impromptu festival, one held in the grounds of Selene's temple. Normally, this would feel like a nice place to be, a place where you could sit back and relax. Yet, with Selene's temple looming above, you can't quite ignore the thought that she might be watching you now, taking furtive glances into your ever-changing future. Selene's eyes might be fixed on everyone here, following countless paths into countless futures.

Best not to think of such things. Focus on the present.

[1/2]

Beneath a grand parasol that has been hastily erected, you spy Sho – sitting, of course, upon a kind of throne. He watches the festivities without much interest, his eyes currently wandering across a group of novice priestesses engaged in some kind of formal dance. It's a tedious looking thing, all slow, graceful motions and swishing fans. All very beautiful, of course, but not the sort of thing to inspire excitement or joy. There's something solemn about it, in fact – something that gives the entire affair a funeral ambience.

“They're mourning the loss of one of our own,” Maab, appearing at your side, says suddenly, “Not literally, of course. Still, whenever a priestess leaves our order, it is seen as a kind of death. It is a permanent loss – those who leave cannot rejoin. Well, I suppose an exception could always be made, but that would require Selene herself to intervene. In all our time, such a thing has never happened.”

Miura, you guess, she's leaving Selene's sisterhood?

“To marry, yes,” Maab nods, “All according to plan. I really should thank you, Ira, for your hand in protecting her. You've done a wonderful job, and I rather doubt we'd be seeing this if it wasn't for you.”

Glacing around at the older priestess, you try to judge the look in her eyes. There's genuine concern there, mixed with relief, but also a kind of calculated satisfaction. That's the look of someone whose investment is about to pay off, you realise wearily, and to pay off well.

“Please,” Maab smiles, reading your expression with her usual uncanny skill, “Don't pretend that this is a bad thing. Without Miura to soften his heart, do you really think the Emperor would have followed this path?”

>Maybe. Maybe not. It doesn't excuse using the girl as a weapon
>No, you're right – you've both done much to help secure peace
>Sho just needed good guidance. Anyone could have done that
>Other

>>Maybe. Maybe not. It doesn't excuse using the girl as a weapon

>No, you're right – you've both done much to help secure peace
"I'm not a fan of using children as tools, but this was her choice as much as it was yours and I can respect that."

>Other
"Only Selene could really tell us that. Either way your girl is smart enough to make her own decisions and this is the path she chose. I think she'll be happy, we just got to keep maintaining this peace we've been forging."

>>No, you're right – you've both done much to help secure peace

Maybe, you reply with a cool shrug, but maybe not. While you can't deny that they've both done much to help secure this peace, you wonder if there was really no other way to achieve it. Perhaps Selene could have mapped out a number of other routes towards the same destination – or one that was equally acceptable – but Maab would have to ask that of the goddess herself. You don't care to dwell on such speculation.

But either way, it doesn't make everything they've done right. You can hardly say you approve of the way Maab has used Miura as a tool – as a weapon, almost – but neither can you deny that Miura herself was a willing part of this ploy. She accepted her role with full knowledge of what it would involve, and you're not about to deny her that choice. Besides, you add a moment later, you think she'll be happy with the outcome. As long as you all keep doing your part to preserve this growing peace, that is.

“She'll be happy...” Maab actually pauses at this, as though the thought had never occurred to her, “Do you really think so?”

You consider Ishida's question and Selene's answer for a moment before nodding. She won't regret the path she's chosen, you reply eventually, you're willing to bet on that.

“I'm glad, I really am,” the priestess turns away to regard Sho. Miura sits beside him on a somewhat plainer version of his throne, her expression unreadable. She watches the mourning dancers with intense concentration, as if seeking to burn their image into her mind. “Miura will remain here, in Garuna, for some time. Her part of this journey is over, and I do not wish for her to be in the capital right now. Yes, Ira, I heard about that – you'd be surprised at what Ra is prepared to tell me, when he's in the mood for a conversation. Who would have expected Takino to have his eye on the throne?”

>Sarcasm, I presume
>What would you suggest, then?
>The situation is under control. Good day, Maab
>Other

"Everyone who has ever met him for any decent period of time."

>What would you suggest, then?
"We already got a solid plan I think, but I'm open to second opinions."

>>What would you suggest, then?
"A second opinion is welcome"

has nobody important realized in what state we are?

>Sarcasm, I presume
You certainly didn't need Selene to predict that one.
>What would you suggest, then?

mix of politeness, they don't want to make an already awkward situation more than it already is, and Ira looks like a bum most of the time in the first place

That, you presume, would be sarcasm?

“Yes, Ira, it was. I think even a dung farmer could reach that conclusion, and you are definitely not one of those,” Maab pauses, giving your stained attire a critical look, “No matter how much aspire to be one.”

You're going to ignore that comment. It's safer for the both of you. You return, then, to Maab's original question – who would have suspected Takino of treachery?

Just about everyone who has spent more than five minutes in Takino's company, you mutter darkly, could have reached that conclusion. You didn't need to have Selene's gifts in order to realise that. It's just that nobody was quite expecting him to act on those lofty ambitions. Fixing Maab with a cautious gaze, you wonder just what Ra has told her. So if she was in your position, you ask, what would she do? While you've got a plan in place already – a solid one, you think – you never turn down a second opinion?

“My, what would I do?” Maab glances upwards as she thinks, “I suppose I should give you an honest answer. Very well then – I'd murder this Takino at the first chance that presented itself, as quietly and discretely as possible. I rather suspect that this isn't an option you're considering, however.”

No, you reply slowly, that's... about right. You want to keep this clean, as clean as possible at least.

“A shame,” Maab shrugs, “But it's your decision to make. Well, regardless, I'll let you get back to whatever it was you were doing – wallowing in a ditch, I presume. Good day, Ira.” Then, with the smooth grace of a natural predator, Maab swishes away and vanishes into the crowd. By the time you start to think of a reasonable comeback, she is long gone.

Just the way she likes it, in other words.

[1/2]

It isn't long after that chance meeting that the festivities start to come to their natural conclusion. As the various soldiers and dancers, priestesses and servants, return to their designated posts, Ra spots you and approaches. Glancing down at your stained clothes, he raises an eyebrow but otherwise makes no comment.

You went for a walk, you offer, that's all.

“I didn't ask. I don't want to ask,” Ra shrugs slightly, “As far as I'm concerned, you were off-duty this morning. Anything you chose to do is your business – nothing to do with me, the Emperor or the Nameless Temple. Speaking of the Nameless Temple, in fact, I wanted to tell you. We'll be stopping briefly there on the way back to the capital. This time, we'll be following the old Trade Road through the south of Tenngaru. It'll be a slightly longer trip, but the Emperor insisted. He wants time, he said, to think.”

To prepare himself, you suggest, for whatever might be waiting in the capital.

“Quite so,” Ra agrees, “So, I wanted to tell you – if you wish, we can part ways when we stop at the temple. Otherwise, you're welcome to ride onto the capital with us. What do you say?”

>I think it's about time we parted ways, Ra. I have business of my own
>I'll ride to the capital with you. Takino needs to be dealt with
>Other

>I'll ride to the capital with you. Takino needs to be dealt with
Takino should probably come before Seer. We could also pick up Soma and take her with us to the Capital then to Makai afterwards since she wanted to come.

>I'll ride to the capital with you. Takino needs to be dealt with

>>I'll ride to the capital with you. Takino needs to be dealt with
But I will need new clothes. I got sorcerous abomination all over this pair.

>>I'll ride to the capital with you. Takino needs to be dealt with

>I'll ride to the capital with you. Takino needs to be dealt with

You'll ride to the capital with them, you tell Ra, Takino needs to be dealt with. You have business elsewhere, true, but that's nothing that can't wait for a while – at least, you hope that's the case. Regardless, Takino is by far the more immediate problem.

“I'm glad to have you on board,” Ra admits, “I rather suspect that a man of your skills will be very important in handling this... situation. As I said, we'll be making a short stop at the Nameless Temple, so you'll have some time to take care of any business you have there.”

That's good, you remark, you really need to pick up some new clothes. These ones are stained with, well... stains. The less you say about those the better.

“Really?” Ra clears his throat, hiding a small smile behind a closed fist, “I never noticed any stains.”

Funny.

-

The ride back to the Nameless Temple is barely a short hop, but one that seems to last far longer than it should. Perhaps it's the dark cloud that hangs over the convoy that has that effect – everyone seems to suspect, on some level, that they are riding towards trouble. Even the soldiers who know nothing of Takino's betrayal ride with tense faces and waiting weapons, while Ra spends most of his time glaring out the carriage windows. When you arrive at the Nameless Temple, it comes as a great relief to you all.

Disembarking, you make a straight line towards your quarters and change into a pair of clothes that are, at the very least, not stiff with a skin of dried grime. As you're heading back to the temple entrance, you run across a familiar face.

A familiar face marred by a dark bruise.

“You!” Aya calls out, “I've got a bone to pick with you!”

>Been picking fights again, Aya?
>I wanted to talk to you as well, about the news
>I can't really stop to chat, I'm afraid
>Other

>>Been picking fights again, Aya?
>[Ira sigh] What happened and how is it my fault?

"That doesn't look too good. What happened?"

>>Been picking fights again, Aya?

"If Koa broke his other arm I had nothing to do with it this time."

"But seriously everything alright? What happened?"

>>Been picking fights again, Aya?
>>I wanted to talk to you as well, about the news

So, you ask with a wry smile, been picking fights again?

“Funny!” Aya yelps, but – sarcasm aside – a small smile touches her lips, “Yeah chief, you're exactly right – a bunch of soldiers showed up, but I beat them all single handedly. Considering there was, oh, a dozen of them, I reckon I got off pretty lightly!”

Sighing heavily, you give her injury a closer look. A fairly large bruise spreading across her temple, it looks like someone tried to club her over the head with a large, blunt object. Really though, you ask, what happened and how is it your fault?

“Oh, nothing much,” Aya laughs, “I thought your lady friend might enjoy working together on the paper with me – hey, I can keep an eye on her that way, right? - so I made the offer. Then she, uh, she threw a book at my head.”

Huh, you reply, maybe Howa doesn't like newspapers.

“Thanks for your concern,” Aya grunts, “Nah, but I'll live – I've had worse injuries in my time, and it's not the first time someone's thrown some junk at my head. Sometimes, you know, people don't like having reporters asking questions about their private life. Who knew, huh? Anyway, speaking of newspapers...”

Yes, you reply, you wanted to talk to her about that. What's the situation?

“The first issue is finished, and I've sent out as many copies as I was able to print – straight to the capital,” Aya's voice grows clipped, professional, as she talks about the paper, “All good news, right?. By the time you lot arrive, the news should be spreading like wildfire. Now, I'm going to get working on the second one – staining Takino's name. When you want me to release it, just send a bird my way. That's the plan, right?”

Right, you nod, that's the plan.

“So, I guess you're hitting the road again, huh?” Aya asks then, “Gotta keep busy, I guess.”

>Right, we're heading to the capital soon
>I wanted to speak with someone else... (Who?)
>I had some questions for you... (Write in)
>Other

>I wanted to speak with someone else... (Who?)
Howa, possibly Mentor for a spell

>>I wanted to speak with someone else... (Who?)
Soma real quick, letting her know that after we finish with the situation at the capital we'll be making the trip to Makai and if she wants to come along she can.

Then Howa to check in and maybe talk about not throwing books at people.

>>I wanted to speak with someone else... (Who?)
Soma - Going to Makai soon.
Mentor - Tell him about Selene's catacombs, he was curious I think.
Howa - Check in.

>I had some questions for you... (Write in)
"How'd your interview with Sho go by the way?"

>>I wanted to speak with someone else... (Who?)
lets speak with Howa and with Koa

this sounds fine

You've got a few other people to speak with before leaving, you explain to Aya, and a question you'd like to ask her. That interview with the Emperor – how did it go?

“Well, I should charge you for this, the price of a paper, but...” Aya shrugs, “He gives good answers, but I can't say how sincere they were. He talked about how great it was to get out of the capital and see new places, new people. He grieved for the soldiers that were lost protecting him, and pledged to give the Dragon's Head whatever assistance it required in the days ahead. I mean, it all sounds good – he'll win a fair few people over, I should think – but... I don't know. It all reads like exactly the kind of thing you'd expect him to say.”

Is that a problem, you ask, in her experience?

“I guess not,” Aya replies after a moment, “I mean, you'll get some cynics who talk big about how they don't believe a word of it, but they say that regardless – you could be the most sincere man alive, and they'd scoff at you. Most folks? Yeah, I reckon they'll buy it. I'm not trying to act superior or anything, but if you give most people something that sounds good... they'll believe it. Just the way people are, in my experience.”

Thinking on this for a moment, you nod. Keep up the good work, you tell Aya as you're leaving, and you'll send her a bird when you want her help. Saying your goodbyes, you head out to meet with the Mentor – he wanted to know about Garuna, and you've certainly got a few things to tell him. Then, Howa and Koa, stopping off at Soma's room before you leave. You don't know when you'll be coming back here – best to take care of everything you can.

So, with that thought in mind, you head out to see the old man.

[1/3]

>The next posts might be delayed slightly. Not for too long, I hope.

The Mentor listens with extravagant care as you describe the tunnels beneath Garuna, the curious spectres that haunt the waterways and the legend – a truth distorted by time – that Miura told you. The priestess Izalith, a sorceress, was cast down into the catacombs for her crimes and her schemes, only to live long enough to birth a monster into the world. A monster of bone and filth, but one that you were able to destroy.

“Very interesting,” the Mentor hums softly as he thinks, “Of course, I noticed a number of mistakes in your story – you spoke as though you yourself went down to those catacombs. Such a thing is forbidden, so I must assume this knowledge is second-hand, learned from another – one with the impropriety to step onto taboo ground. Is that the case, Ira?”

Of course, you reply with a smooth smile, you learned it all from a very reliable source.

“This talk of sacrifice, however, reminds me,” the Mentor begins to speak in vaguer voice, rambling away, “Working magic is, in its own way, a small sacrifice. We offer our will and devotion to the gods, and they take it willingly. However, is it not possible that an offering can be reclaimed? Starving men might take food from a shrine, for example, and they would do so with the gods' blessings. Under desperate circumstances, so too can we reclaim the magic we have lost. Do you understand, Ira?”

Yes, you murmur as you feel your heart stirring, you understand all too well...

>New spell card gained:
>[Air] Burnt Offerings Reclaimed
>“What the Gods do not take for themselves, you can reclaim and use once more.”
>Immediately use one other spell card that you have already used.

“Just a sign of my appreciation,” the Mentor remarks, a note of amusement in his eyes, “For swapping stories with this old man.”

A valuable gift, you assure the Mentor, and sure to be of great use in the days ahead. For now, though, you needed to check up on Howa.

[2/3]

Ooh, dualcasting!

Nope recasting, which is a god send for fighting tough foes back to back.

You never thought it was possibly to angrily read something, but one look at Howa – sitting behind her desk at the archives – proved you wrong. She is skimming through what you take to be a medical book, scanning the pages with a ferocity that rivals that seen in the Ascetic's murderous assassins.

So, you ask as you look at the books scattered across her desk, which of these was the one she threw at Aya's head?

“Ah, well, yes...” Howa's expression has a mix of shame, guilt and childish spite in it, while her voice flounders helplessly, “She had it coming, Ira! Marching in here, without a trace of modesty or... or anything else, and insulting me.”

Insulting her, you repeat, in what way?

“She said – and I will quote you her exact words here - “Hey, you like books right? Why don't you help me with the newspaper and do some real good?” Which is rather insulting, wouldn't you say?” Howa pouts, “Maybe she didn't deserve that, but...”

>I think you should apologise to her
>No, Aya was out of line saying that
>Howa, what's wrong with you? You've been acting strange lately...
>Other

>Howa, what's wrong with you? You've been acting strange lately...

"You'd think a reporter would have a better way with words. That said I think she was just trying reach out to you as badly handled as it was."
>I think you should apologise to her

>Howa, what's wrong with you? You've been acting strange lately...
"Usually you'd mess with her. using her words against her instead going straight to book chucking. You alright?"

>I think you should apologize to her

What Aya said WAS kind of dickish, but so is chucking books at people.

>Howa, what's wrong with you? You've been acting strange lately...

Sighing, you pull up a chair and sit opposite Howa so you can talk properly, like the mature adults that you're supposed to be. A reporter, you begin, should really have a better way with words. At least, that's what you'd expect. Regardless of how rude her words might have been, Aya was just trying to reach out and build bridges. For that, you think she should apologise to the young reporter.

“Ira Furyo, are you taking her side?” Howa accuses, “You really think she was justified in saying that?”

No, you reply calmly, but that doesn't mean she was justified in throwing a book at the girl in response. That's not even stooping to her level – it's going even lower. Honesty, you ask, what's wrong? Normally, she's crush Aya – or anyone who dared put a foot out of line – with a few words, not book throwing. There must be something wrong with her, if she's acting like this.

“I'm just... stressed,” Howa snaps, wincing as she immediately regrets her tone, “Waiting here all day, waiting for all this to be over... it's hard, Ira. There's something I need you to...”

What, you ask, something you need to know?

“No... yes,” shaking her head, Howa pushes a hand through her long, dark hair, “Not yet. I need to tell you something, but not while you're out putting your life on the line. If you were too busy worrying about me, and you ended up getting hurt, I'd never be able to forgive myself. I promise, I'll tell you everything – absolutely everything – but only when you've got the time to sit down and focus on it. Not when you're running out on some desperate task. The land isn't going to wait, so I'll have to instead. I'm sorry Ira, but that's the way it has to be.” As her words dry up, Howa lifts a hand to her face, covering her eyes as if she can't bear to look at you.

[1/2]

Reaching across, you gently take her hand away. It's fine, you tell her gently, it's all going to be over soon.

“Not soon enough,” Howa murmurs, “I can hardly bear it, not telling you. Keeping this secret, it's like having something eat away inside of me. It's not so bad when I'm alone, but having you here, right in front of me... I don't want to let you go. But you've got to, right?” A brief pause, in which a hopeful glint – a fleeting, fragile thing – darts across Howa's face. “Right?”

Right, you sigh, you've got to keep these idiots from burning the land down around your ears. If you don't go out and knock some sense into them, there won't be a land to settle down in.

“I knew that, I suppose,” a tired smile touches Howa's lips, your flippant words finally easing the mood slightly, “You see, Ira? You're almost a teacher already!”

Don't, you shudder, don't even joke about that.

“Very well,” Howa's smile deepens a little, “No point making plans for the future, is there? We never know what might happen, what might... come along to derail things. I... excuse me, please, I think I''m about to do something very undignified. May I ask for a moment alone?”

Of course, you tell Howa as you let go of her hand, you needed to get back to work. There's just one last thing...

“Oh?” Howa raises an eyebrow, trying to look her usual self.

Apologise, you remind her, say sorry to Aya.

“...Fine,” she sighs, shaking her head, “But I'll have to do it in my own time. I shan't have you dragging us together like we were children.”

Good enough, you shrug as you prepare to leave. As you stand, though, you pause. It doesn't feel quite right, ending things this way.

>Say something else... (Write in)
>Get back to work
>Other

>Say something else... (I love you Howa, I'm doing this so we and children can have peace and prosperity. I'm sorry this is so hard on you."

>Say something else... (Write in)
Deep kiss and a "It's almost over. I'll be back before you know it."

Then
>Get back to work
And grab Soma.

>Get back to work

+1

backing

No, that wasn't the right way to end things at all. These things should be done properly, with all the sentiment and honesty that that involves. Returning to the desk, you lean down and take Howa's chin in your hand, tilting her mouth up and planting a kiss on her lips. At first, Howa's eyes widen with surprise, and then they slowly drift shut, a deep flush colouring her cheeks. When you break away, her breathing has a ragged edge to it, one that speaks of a terrible longing.

It's almost over, you whisper to her, and you'll be back soon.

“I know,” Howa murmurs back, her eyes still shut. As if opening them would dispel a pleasant dream, and you'd be nowhere to be seen.

You're doing this for her, you continue, for the next generation. It's hard, you know that, but it's work that needs to be done.

“I... I know,” she repeats, a faint frown creasing her brow at this.

And you love her, you add, can't forget that.

“And I love you too,” Howa purrs, a smile lifting the corners of her mouth. Still smiling, she starts to stretch up in order to press her lips to yours, but a cough cuts the action short. Both of you freeze for a moment, and you slowly turn to track down the source of that accursed cough. Koa, carrying a number of books under his one good arm, stands in the archive doorway, awkwardly shuffling his feet.

“So, uh, I brought these,” he begins, “Books. Printed ones. A peace offering, Aya called them. I can... I can leave them here if you were, uh...”

“No, no,” Howa's voice is prim, even if her cheeks are still flushed red, “We were just, ah...”

>I was just leaving, yes
>Koa. How's the arm doing?
>Koa, I wanted to talk to you about something... (Write in)
>Other

All. Those. Death flags.

>I was just leaving, yes
>Koa. How's the arm doing?

Dude we've planted so many death flags every time we leave the Temple ever since Ira and Howa hooked up. This is just some more, albeit bigger ones I suppose.

>I was just leaving, yes
>Koa. How's the arm doing?

>I was just leaving, yes
>Koa. How's the arm doing?
"You know you could talk to Mentor about that if you want it healed faster. I can't imagine he'd say no considering how you broke it."

You were just leaving, you declare with all the awkwardness of a teenage lover, that's what you were doing. Yes. That's it.

“I... okay,” Koa shakes his head, “I'll just get to work putting these books somewhere. Filing them away isn't my job. I mean, I wouldn't even know where to start, so...”

“Yes, I'll get Sanae on that as soon as possible,” Howa adopts a fierce frown, as fierce as she can manage under the circumstances, “Now where is she...?” With a heavy sigh, she lifts herself to her feet and takes up her cane, lurching off into the archive shelves. Somehow, you suspect that Sanae isn't the real reason for her hasty exit.

So, you ask Koa in order to fill the awkward silence, how's the arm doing?

“Healing slowly,” Koa replies quickly, glad to pick up his end of the conversation, “You know, like a broken arm would. Perfectly normal.”

The Mentor might be able to speed things along, you point out, and – considering how Koa was injured – you suspect he'd be more than willing to help. Something to consider, you add with a shrug, if he gets desperate to be back in the action.

“I'll keep that in mind,” Koa nods, offering a faint smile, “But, ah, truth be told, I'm enjoying the time off. Not to say I don't appreciate the field work or anything, but it does tend to be rather... lethal. So, uh, I might just milk this for all it's worth. Oh, I mean, if I'm needed back in action, I won't waste time – I'll get this fixed as soon as I can. But, as long as it's just keeping me out of trouble...”

Fair enough, you shrug, the option is always there. For now, though, you needed to go see Soma. You had... business to settle with her.

“Sure,” Koa nods, “Oh, hey, I heard you were heading out soon, with the rest of the convoy – stay safe, right?”

You'll stay alive.

“Close enough,” the apprentice replies, with a small and forced laugh.

[1/2]

Soma lets you into her room without any particular care or caution, and it doesn't take you long to see why. Anything she might need to keep away from prying eyes – guns, grenades or stranger things aside – has been hidden away somewhere. In fact, more of less all of her belongings have vanished, packed into a single bulging pack. She looks, you realise, like someone on the brink of making a desperate escape attempt.

“Don't get the wrong idea,” she cautions you, “It's a coping measure, that's all. I needed to think about something else, so I cleaned this place up, top to bottom. Then I kept cleaning until I felt better. It works, you know, it really does.”

Standing here, in this barren room, you're really not sure about that. This empty space doesn't exactly ease your mind. If there's something bothering her, you suggest, shouldn't she just talk it over with Tawn?

“That's... not really an option,” Soma grimaces, “I've not told him... certain things. As such, there are certain subjects that I have to avoid entirely – subject that are, unfortunately, at the root of my unease.”

The Seer, in other words.

“I should have got a letter,” Soma admits, “I was expecting there to be one when I returned. Nothing important – an update from my friend back at, well, elsewhere. But there's nothing – I'm worried about them. I think the Seer might have done something. Something drastic.”

>The Seer has fled deep into Makai. Do you still want to pursue him?
>I'm going to the capital, soon. Come with me, if you want something else to do
>I had something to ask you... (Write in)
>Other

>The Seer has fled deep into Makai. Do you still want to pursue him?

>I'm going to the capital, soon. Come with me, if you want something else to do
"Once our business is finished there I'll be going to Makai."

>The Seer has fled deep into Makai. Do you still want to pursue him?
>I had something to ask you... Where is that 'elsewhere'? The Seer should be far away in Makai, unable to control things.

>The Seer has fled deep into Makai. Do you still want to pursue him?
>I'm going to the capital, soon. Come with me, if you want something else to do

"We can find time to swing by this 'Elsewhere' if you want to."

>The Seer has fled deep into Makai. Do you still want to pursue him?

>>I'm going to the capital, soon. Come with me, if you want something else to do
>>The Seer has fled deep into Makai. Do you still want to pursue him?

He really might, you agree, the Seer has fled deep into Makai. With his plans in ruins, he has chosen to flee where few people can follow. It'll be a long trip, and it could be dangerous – knowing that, does she still want to follow him? Even if it takes her to what might literally be the furthest corner of the land?

“I'm prepared to take that risk,” Soma, with steel in her voice, replies, “It doesn't matter how far I need to go, or what I need to risk – I want to look him in the eye, one last time.”

Even if she doesn't come back?

“Even then,” she nods gravely. The conversation, quite understandably, falters a little after that.

This “elsewhere” she mentioned, you ask, where is it? With the Seer far away, anyone there should be away from him, out of his control or influence. Even so, you might be able to find the time to visit it, if she wants.

“I imagine we'll visit it,” Soma manages a small smile, “You've been there before, after all. It's... on the way.”

The cult enclave, you realise, of course. Where else would Soma have been getting her information? Someone must have been sneaking out to send her letters, snippets of information from within the Seer's last, desperate remnants. With that level of risk, it's no wonder that Soma is so worried – or that the flow of information might have been suddenly cut off. In that case, you tell her, you'll definitely find the time to take a look around. If there's any sign of her informant, you'll uncover it.

“Thank you,” Soma nods, “It's hard, sitting here and waiting to hear from them. Maybe they've just been caught up, and they couldn't sneak out. Maybe...”

[1/2]

>The Seer has fled deep into Makai. Do you still want to pursue him?
>I'm going to the capital, soon. Come with me, if you want something else to do
>If your freinds followed him, I fear the ended up much like the forces of the Ascetic.

You're going to the capital soon, you offer as an anxious cloud begins to descend upon her, and she's welcome to come with you. It might giver her something to do, something to take her mind off-

“The capital?” Soma actually looks afraid of the idea, “N-no. No, I can't. I'm sorry, but I can't.”

Why, you ask, is there something wrong with the capital?

“No, I mean...” she grimaces, “It's private. Personal. You'll figure it out soon enough, I imagine – you're smart enough for that. I'm sorry, and I hope you don't suffer because I'm too gutless to come with you, but I'm just... It's awkward. It's a bad time for me, and coming with you would just make things worse.”

You have no idea what she's talking about, you reply slowly, but she seems adamant enough. In that case, you'll leave her behind. When you're finished in the capital though, you warn her, you're heading straight to Makai. She'd better be ready.

“I will be,” nodding firmly, Soma meets your eye, “Don't worry about that.”

One last warning, you add as you're leaving, if her friend followed the Seer into Makai...

“I know,” Soma looks away, breaking the moment of eye contact, “You don't need to tell me. I know.”

Merely nodding in response, you show yourself out. She can wait here as long as she likes – you've got a carriage to catch. Even so, you allow yourself the luxury of a slow walk back to the entrance, savouring every detail of the Nameless Temple while you still can. No way of knowing how long you'll be held in the capital, after all. The carriages are preparing to leave when you reach them, and you waste little time in getting settled in. There's a long journey ahead of you, and-

[2/3]

A heavy knock on the carriage door reveals a familiar, scarred face. Refusing your help, Tawn struggles to pull himself into the carriage, slumping down into the plush seat. With a white mask covering much of his face – his terrible face, scarred and disfigured by the Seer's explosives – it's hard to guess what his expression might be. His eyes, though, are weary. He says nothing, merely bowing his head in a muted greeting, and soon the carriages are rattling south.

It's about an hour before Tawn finally speaks, his voice so low that you can barely hear it above the rattle and clatter of carriage wheels on bad roads. He has to murmur, you recall, else his voice becomes slurred and sloppy. For a man of such rigid pride as Tawn, that would be unforgivable.

“It didn't work out,” he says simply, leaving you to figure out what he means.

>Whatever you say, Tawn
>Something wrong at the Nameless Temple?
>Girl troubles?
>Other

>Girl troubles?

>Something wrong at the Nameless Temple?

...
>Girl troubles?

>Something wrong at the Nameless Temple?
>Girl troubles?

>Is there something wrong at the Nameless Temple or are you having girl troubles?

>Something wrong at the Nameless Temple?
>Girl troubles?

So, you ask, is there something wrong at the Nameless Temple? You were under the impression that he was doing well there, even staying longer than planned. Now, he seems to be leaving in something of a hurry. So, you're understandably curious.

When Tawn doesn't immediately reply, the gears in your mind start to grind a little faster. Ah, you add awkwardly, girl troubles?

“She's just not there,” Tawn blurts out, his shattered mouth causing the words to run into one another, “I mean... she is there, but her mind isn't. I've tried talking to her, but she just stares at the wall. I've tried to help, but she's not even trying to be helped. So... I'm done wasting my time. I told her to send me a letter, just a note, when she's ready to communicate like a human being. Until then, I've got no reason to stay here.”

That's harsh.

“That's fair,” Tawn retorts, “I've left it in her hands. Either she wants to make the effort and salvage something from this mess, or...” He falls silent, then, a grimace tugging at what you can see of his mouth.

Or, you press, or what?

“Well, it was never true love,” there is a harsh edge – somewhat forced, you suspect – to Tawn's voice, “A pleasant way to pass the time, that's all. Maybe it's natural that it should run its course and then fade. Right now, I'd rather focus on work.”

Grunting a vague and wordless response, you sit back and think. Soma, as you understand it, just has too many secrets. If she had been honest with Tawn from the start, perhaps she could share her troubles with him now, and Tawn wouldn't feel so... alienated. But then, perhaps their relationship had been doomed from the start, a product of two lives that just couldn't quite fit together.

“So?” Tawn asks eventually, after maybe an hour of silence.

>It's your problem Tawn, not mine
>Soma has... secrets. You need to sit down and have a damn good talk
>Just give her time. Let her think things over
>Other

>Soma has... secrets. You need to sit down and have a damn good talk

>Soma has... secrets. You need to sit down and have a damn good talk
"She's had a lot on her mind due to recent events. She's looking for closure. Once she has it, and it should be soon, you two should have a long talk. She'll send that letter Tawn."

>Just give her time. Let her think things over
>all woman have secret that's why we must from time to time sit down and have a damn good talk with them

>Soma has... secrets. You need to sit down and have a damn good talk
>Just give her time. Let her think things over
After the Seer situation is dealt with then they should talk.

Soma has secrets, you warn Tawn, and she's been keeping them for a while. It's not your place to say, but they need to have a good talk. Face to face, when they've both got time to deal with whatever issues might come to light.

“Then you would suggest I go back?” Tawn asks, “Go back, and not leave until I know the truth?”

No, you reply, just give her some time. Recent events have been weighing on her mind, and she's going to need to get some closure before she'll be ready to talk. When the time is right, and she sends that letter, they'll have the chance to talk things out.

“Sound advice,” Tawn muses, after thinking your words over for a long time, “You seem to know a great deal about women, Ira. You really have changed.”

Experience, you reply with an awkward shrug, practice. All women have their secrets, and sooner or later, they all need to sit down and have a good long talk. That's just a natural fact, one that will never change.

“I suppose you're right,” Tawn murmurs, a slight smile appearing in his eyes, “In either case, I just need to wait, to focus on what I can do. That's... perfectly suitable. Thank you, friend, for listening to the complaints of a bitter comrade.”

No problem, you reply, it passes the time. How long, anyway, until you're due to reach the capital?

“A little over three days,” Tawn grunts.

Damn it.

>I think I'll finish things here for today. Next thread on Friday, and I'll stick around for a while in case anyone has any questions!

Thanks for running Moloch.

Thanks for running Moloch!
that went better than expected
who would have guess that Ira would make a good love advisor

We fucked up with Ishida though.

Thanks for running!

Three days? Now Ira will get vehemently pro-railroad.

That wasn't anything to do with love.

That was tired old man in another sewer making a mistake cause he didn't another goddamn fight.