Chapter 55

Reunion

“Burn!! Burn!!! BURN!! All of you shall burn for what you have done!!! BURN!!”

The Fragments

Noah sat on top of a thick branch of a tree, his body entirely hidden in the shadows of the leaves projected through the moonlight. In the faint distance, around a stretch of open land inside the Weepwoods, he saw tiny flickers of flame dancing, protruding smoke whiffing toward the sky. He'd caught up to the four yesterday, after nearly a whole week of movement; considering he took frequent breaks as he wasn't in a hurry, it seemed they ran at their full strength for a long time. He considered joining them immediately but set against it in the end.

I’ve made such a big deal of my ‘sacrifice’, he mused, stroking his chin that had once again begun growing beard. Wouldn’t it be a bit cheap if I just popped up out of nowhere, healthy and all? Maybe I can wound myself a bit to sell the story? In truth, even he didn’t for a second believe it would have been relatively easy to get out of the Fort. While the set of lucky circumstances certainly helped, it was still far too easy – no, he shook his head. It wasn’t easy. Were it only him, he would have never gotten away – it was entirely due to magic. For one reason or another, they appeared unable to identify his magic, the Dark.

Being able to completely hide a flying knife and then slip away amidst the dozens of guards really was magical, in more ways than one. He still almost had his adrenaline pumping whenever he recalled the moment, as it certainly reached the top of his escapes throughout his life. What cemented it that far up was that his planning was relatively minimal, and most of what he did came from the moment-by-moment judgment. When he saw that the knife he threw was invisible, he was ready to put up a fight; when he saw that it was about to pierce Sylene’s eye without any fight, he knew it was time to run – that singular moment would afford him a speck of a second to vanish. And thus, he did.

One thing that surprised him about the whole scenario was that Sylene looked quite alive when he shot one last glance at her. If she were far younger, he might have understood it, but she was a woman pushing deep into her seventh decade; one way or another, human bodies here, at least those endowed with Light, were different. For all he knew, she might still be alive by some miracle.

Alive or dead, however, he didn’t worry; she had nothing on him. Even if, somehow, she manages to snuff out Claire’s relationship with the mysterious merchant, ‘Mr. Flint’, and connect the two identities, it would do her no good. By his estimates, they’ll spearhead the news about the ‘unknown assailant’ throughout the Kingdom due to the simple fact of buying time. The others are fine… but I’ll have to reach out to Fyrosts quickly. The news will most likely take at least two weeks to spread far enough, so it'll be close to the clock.

He had no plans of going there alone but sending Quickett. Now that Claire was, at least temporarily, completely useless to him, he’ll have to exploit the relationship she bought for him, at least, and have Quickett do the odd jobs. Can he do it? He didn’t know. The jester was certainly more than meets the eye, but whether he was that much more, Noah had no means of telling.

Growing slightly bored sitting alone on the branch, especially without any booze at hand, he settled down and nimbly descended the tree, entering the narrow ‘path’ the four of them carved out by moving. He didn’t bother concealing his footsteps, alarming them almost immediately; Lyon and Sash jumped on their feet, the latter drawing out a sword and holding it with shaky hands while the former stepped in front of Claire with an alarmed expression.

As Noah's face came into the range of campfire, Sash's fingers relaxed as the sword plummeted to the ground, followed shortly after by the man himself. Even Lyon took a few steps back in shock, as though he was seeing a ghost, while Myrell reacted almost immediately and leaped to her feet, lunging over and draping her arms around Noah's waist, burying her head into his stomach, weeping.

“… I am a ghost and I came to haunt you.” Noah spoke placidly while patting Myrell’s head, causing Claire and Sash to break out into smiles.

"You are more than welcome to." Claire, despite her boyish appearance, hardly lost any of her charms, especially under the faint luminescence of the campfire by her side.

“… can I first sit, Myrell?” Noah said, pulling the woman’s head from his chest. “Then, by all means, snot all over me.”

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“S-sorry, Master… but… but I was worried…” she stuttered out, sitting by his side, still unwilling to let go.

“… you did well.” Noah smiled, patting her head gently for a moment before turning his attention to the other three, with Lyon and Sash having already sat down around the fire as well. “You all did.”

“… what happened with you?” Sash asked the question everybody had on their mind.

“… wouldn’t it be much funnier if you heard it when we return back home?” Noah grinned.

“Funnier for who?”

“Me, obviously.”

“Then, no.” Sash grinned back.

“… I simply escaped,” Noah said. “Not much else.”

“… Mother would not simply let you ‘escape’,” Claire spoke out from the side. “Don’t worry about me.”

“… I didn’t kill anyone, as far as I know, anyway,” Noah said, smiling faintly. “No need to feel jittery and responsible.”

“… what… what about Sunnder?” she asked, lowering her head in shame.

“… his death will be blamed on someone else,” he spoke elusively. “As far as the world will know, you were in the process of being kidnaped when your brother stumbled upon the scene and heroically tried to rescue you before succumbing to mortal wounds after failing. I don’t suggest showing your face just yet, however.”

“… I won’t show it,” she said. “It doesn’t’ matter what the world thinks. They don’t have to live with it.”

“… live with what?” Noah asked, glancing at the tantalizing flames. “Acting in self-defense?”

"There is no need to brush over my actions, Mr. Flint," Claire said. "I killed my brother. If not in this world, I will be judged by the Light in the next."

“What do you think, Lyon?” Noah turned toward the boy.

“H-huh?”

“Do you think the Light will judge her for her actions?”

“…” Lyon stared at his eyes for a moment before glancing at Claire. “I… I don’t know…”

“… there’s no judgment beyond the one you impose on yourself,” he said after a momentary silence. “Everyone, including the Light, would have respected you far less if you’d laid back and let it happen, Claire.”

“… he was drunk,” she said, gnashing her teeth. “I could have fought him off.”

“…” Hmm, this doesn’t look to be a self-righteous façade, Noah mused for a moment, stroking his chin, having just now realized that Myrell was sleeping on his arm. “Maybe. Maybe not. Whatever happens, don’t let him become your tragedy both while alive and now when dead. He’s not worth it.”

“… what now, Master?” Sash asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

“We’ll proceed as Myrell informed you,” Noah replied. “Back to Elucido. Things will be stewing for a little while longer, and I have some important business to handle there. In the meantime, I also have to see how Syl and Evel have done, and visit some of our customers.”

“… do you think… that’s wise?” Sash asked with an implied glance. “Especially now.”

“Wise? No. Necessary? Very much,” Noah replied with a smile. “Storms are a-brewing, Sash. We can’t afford the luxury of sitting around and waiting anymore. I’ll start the paperwork for Syl and you the moment I return. You’ll have to become quintessential elements before the Holy War commences.”

“… you think there’ll still be a Holy War?” Claire asked all of a sudden. “Even with the Fire’s return?”

“Depending on the circumstances,” Noah glanced at her. “The Fire’s return might even be incorporated into the war. As for the war itself, it will happen, whether the world is just full of singing birds and rivers, or is breaking apart at its seams. What do you plan on doing?” he asked. “Beyond the long-awaited reunion, I mean.”

“… I-I don’t know,” she lowered her head, trying to hide her blush. “I haven’t thought it through.”

“… you two can work for me, if you’d like,” Noah said, greasing the wheels beforehand. “Merchants always need new faces to sell their goods, after all.”

“… are… are you really a merchant, Mr. Flint?” Claire asked cautiously.

“… among some other things,” Noah replied mysteriously. “What do you say?”

“I’ll think about it…”

“Thinking is good,” he said, yawning. “As is sleeping. Right, Sash. Who proposed you four light the fire?”

“… u-uh… w-why?” the black man asked with a faint trace of fear.

“In the dead of night,” Noah glanced at him. “It is like a calling card – oi, look here. Right, here. It’s exactly where we are. At this solitary spot where there is light amidst the surrounding darkness.”

“… it was me.” Sash said immediately.

“Lyon, then?” the boy winced and looked away, pretending not to have heard him. “It doesn’t matter this time; I scouted the area and saw no one. But looks like there’s a lot to learn on our way back home…”

“M-Master… p-please, anything but that…” Sash stuttered out, remembering in horror the torture Myrell underwent on the ship on their way to Brightfort.

Noah merely smiled before closing his eyes and relaxing his body; his nerves, as well, were stretched taut, ready to burst. He hadn’t had a proper rest in a long while, and there was only so much his body can endure before breaking apart, no matter how well he maintained it over the years. Without the access to nutrients and mathematically-measured diets from back on Earth, he was bound to see a regress, and would have to do all in his power to slow it down as much as possible – the number one option there being sleep. A lot, a lot of sleep.