Mhaieiyu

Arc 2, Chapter 22

Cowardice or Choicelessness

Tokken awoke to the thuds of a knock. His eyes slugged open, his room pitch black as he preferred not a speck of light to come in through the windows. Chloe happened to agree on that choice, and so didn’t go against the idea. Two little nocturnal beasties, they were.

Seeing that Chloe was absent from his bed, Tokken remembered the time not too long ago when he would’ve panicked for no reason. Those were times he forgot she wasn’t just a puppy; she was far from a pet. He might even see her be wiser than he. Goddess, he took shame in that, but he wasn’t one for excessive pride anyways. Not that it should matter. Regardless of how beastly her race might have seemed to the boy from a surface level, he knew better now not to underestimate their intellect. Chloe was a prime example. That, or she truly was that exceptional.

Tokken begrudgingly slipped off the bed and put his sockless feet on the cold concrete floor. He hadn’t any slippers yet. Might want to ask for those sometime. The teen tiptoed his way to the door and opened it without a second thought. Tokken didn’t feel he had the liberty of privacy in this place yet. Truthfully, he wasn’t wrong. If no answer came, and he was needed enough, any soldier could just ask for a spare key.

To his surprise, however, behind the door stood a massive bulk of fur topped with two blunt horns. Norman.

“Hey there, buck-o! Long time!” his voice was much too loud and deep for the early morning. It was really early, too. Tokken could see well through the giant glass windows behind the beast that the sky was still orange.

The Tsuki rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, it’s been… Well, it’s been a bit. How’ve you been?”

The Mynotaur scratched his cheek. “Heh, yeah. I've been fresh as a fruit. Could you refresh the name please?”

“Mine?”

“Yeah, my old skull’s always leaking info.”

Tokken sighed and chuckled, shaking his head. “Morbid way to put it, but sure. Tokken. It’s just Tokken.”

Norman snapped his fur-covered fingers. “That’s it! Ain’t you a Tsuki though?”

“Yeah, I am, but I’d rather we avoid that surname altogether. It’s been nothing but trouble for me.”

The bull-man nodded, giving the teen a good lookover.

“Bed-hair?” Tokken asked, noticing the quiet eyes.

“Mm. Definitely. You’ve been in a rough’un, haven’tcha?”

Tokken smiled sheepishly, giving him a shrug while slipping his feet into his worn shoes.

“I heard, too. Got attacked, didn’tcha?”

“Cha, cha, cha… Yep. Some crazy guy saved us. Actually, I don’t know who saved who. The kid who attacked me is a buddy now. Don’t ask how that happened,” Tokken said.

“How’d it happen?” Norman asked anyway.

Tokken rolled his eyes and closed the door behind him, giving the room one last look. “I was out cold most of the time it did, so honestly, I couldn’t tell if I tried. But he’s been nice to Chloe and helping her out. Making her feel useful around here. Honestly, I need to catch up. I’m out of the loop still.”

“Huh…” the Mynotaur mused, walking beside the teen as they made their way to, where else, the canteen. “You’re pretty down, man. Reminds me of my daughter back when she was growing up.”

“Is that right?”

Norman looked up as if in thought. “The older one, at least. Some mood swings. Same thing going for you?”

Tokken grumbled. “No idea… Waking up to headaches is becoming a lot more common nowadays, so I guess it’s just getting to me.”

The Mynotaur looked down at the lad with down-curled lips. “Hey, buck-o, why’d ya brush me off the other day? Hurt my feelin’s, man.”

Tokken returned his gaze for a moment, and then faced the floor in shame. “I’m sorry about that. I guess you could say I… panicked. I needed to get out of here.”

“I’m guessing you second-guessed it, huh?”

He shook his head. “No. We got out; me and Chloe. We got attacked in the city.”

“The city?” Norman repeated, baffled. “You can drive, kid?”

“Nope. We had to walk.”

“Aw, man, my legs feel stiff thinkin’ about it. Weren’t you sprained?”

Tokken noted Norman’s arm had fallen on his shoulder to assess his condition. He truly was a caring man… beast… thing. “Life is mysterious sometimes. My best guess is that the adrenaline kept the pain away. I’d mostly recovered by then.” Tokken took a deep breath, inhaling the little natural air that did enter the Facility. Contemplative, he said, “Though, saying that, I always felt the Tsukis were just blessed with unnatural luck. I can’t imagine how frustrating it must’ve been to be a rival to my family’s dressmaker business. I guess they won’t have to anymore…”

Norman scratched his head. “Do you… know how it happened?”

Tokken put his cheek near his shoulder and sighed. “Not the specifics, but I heard they were gunned down during a company celebration. I don’t know. My guess is it was a good week and they felt like topping off on champagne.” He couldn’t help but chuckle a bit, clearing his throat. “But then… Well, somebody came in. Or a lot of somebodies. Or, perhaps, the workers themselves did it. Guns were drawn or whatever else, and suddenly, the richest fabrics organisation disappeared. Leaving behind an… eight-year-old boy, and… two oldies. I don’t know.”

Norman could say nothing but hum in acknowledgement, not being astute enough to raise his spirits beyond petty praise and cartoonish bravado. He decided now was a good time to just be quiet.

Tokken smiled then, satisfied at feeling even a pinch of emotion at what he said. “I kinda miss my granny, Matilda. It’s a shame she went all but mute after the incident. You could count on her to be wise in every nook and cranny of society. She was a Yanksie, too. Wish she’d told me more about her country. Who knows? Maybe I could’ve shed some light on their thought process.”

The bull made some kind of awkward noise. “Yeah, well, I don’t think the peeps around here would’ve bothered to hear ya out. Sorry, kiddo.”

Tokken shook his head. “No big. It’s not like that came to be.” The quartz-haired youngster grabbed the Cryptid’s attention with a jestful tug of his arm hair. “Hey, Norman, what’s your view on things? Enlighten me.”

Norman blew a raspberry. “My views? Man, I don’t even know what to think. All I do know is there’s a family back home and they need feedin’. It’s not half my business to know who did what or put the shit-biscuit in the basket when. It’s all a big ol’ job to me. Same as choppin’ trees, but there’re more friends and a nicer paycheck.”

The human chewed on his cheek and looked away in disinterest. To lack an opinion of any kind disappointed him, and Norman must have noticed because the bovine went on to clarify.

“I guess if I could pick a side, I’d choose the Sylvveans.”

Tokken was perplexed. “What? The Sylvveans? Aren’t they just a community of worshippers?”

“Yeah, I suppose the whole prayer thing would put me off, but it beats fighting all the time. It’d be relaxing. Safe, too. No noise; guns, cannons, metal… Nothing. And if you’re antsy for a lil’ rough up, you’ve got 'Pirate Island' Khorralege right smack next to ya.”

The beast and the boy arrived at the diners in time for a less noisy breakfast. There were only a few soldiers and other workers present in the mess of tables and stools, and no queue whatsoever to snag a full meal. The choices were a bit dense for Tokken’s taste, though he understood why they ate so much so early in the morning. What he didn’t get was why there weren’t any smaller options for the strategists. Maybe they ate elsewhere.

Regardless, they lugged their plates to a nearby table and made themselves comfortable. Norman crammed down almost instantly, stuffing his face like a starving shipwreck survivor.

With a mouthful of all manner of goods, Norman asked, “So, who gave you beef?”

The Tsuki raised a brow and smiled awkwardly. “The chef.” He shook his head. “No, it was some kid. An Urchin. Mumble, he’s called, but he keeps insisting to be named ‘Pride’. We all have our quirks, I guess.”

“ ‘Pride’, huh?” Norman mused, taking a break from eating like a pig. “Hm, that can’t be right.”

“How come?”

“Well, the Manifestation of Pride’s already been found,” Norman said, taking a single look at what remained on his plate before gobbling it up.

Tokken cut his pancakes slow and steady. “Is that right?”

Norman chuckled some, pointing his knife the lad's way and said in a mocking tone, "Ya don't know squat about that, though, do ya?"

“No, I do. I read plenty of books when I was younger. But so few of them are relevant to the present, it seems.” He stared up at the wall as he began to list from memory the various Manifestations of Sin. “Pride, Lust, Sloth, Wrath, Envy, Melancholy… Hm…”

Norman smiled at the display of knowledge, feeling he might not be entirely hopeless, and nodded along, waiting for the teen to continue. Seeing that he struggled, he added, “Apathy, Gluttony…”

Tokken snapped his fingers. “Vainglory.”

“And Greed. He’s a wack job.”

“What about Deceit?” Tokken said.

“Deceit?” Norman repeated. “That’s no Sin I heard of.”

The Tsuki teen nodded and hummed, his fingers clasped together. “Yes. I distinctly remember there being a Deceit somewhere in there.”

The Mynotaur croaked awkwardly, looking behind him to see a swarm of soldiers begin their routine kitchen invasion. “I’m a bit of a bonehead, but I’m pretty damn certain there’s always been only ten.”

Tokken folded his arms in disbelief, racking his brain for answers. He looked like he was dealing with a headache already. “No, I’m certain of it. There must’ve been. I didn’t just read it once or twice, it was absolutely insisted to be the case…” He kept his eyes on the ceiling as he recounted the many books he spent reading as a child instead of socialising or seeing the world of his own accord. Though he couldn’t discern any titles of a sort that might connect to his evidence or even point in its direction, Tokken was sure of it. Deceit had to have been included. But where to look? It was at the tip of his tongue. “Are you sure you listed the Sins correctly? Aren’t Apathy and Melancholy too similar? Though, saying that, they do both seem familiar…”

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Tokken’s thoughts were cut short abruptly as the loud clatter of a fork robbed his attention with a little jump. What he saw next was, in few words, off-putting and startling. The Mynotaur had dropped his utensil as with bulging eyes and a lazy lip he stared at the teen intensely — or, more accurately, over his shoulder, at something right behind him.

Tokken whipped his head around to see whatever could be disturbing him, but he saw nothing of note. He gave Norman a double-take, showing him an unnerved lip curl and a sheepish, timid pair of eyes. “You uh… Are you having an epiphany, Norm?”

No reply. It’s as if he had entered shock spontaneously. But then, as Tokken just waited in silence in worry, he saw Norman’s lips shift into a playful grin only to evolve into an uproarious laugh.

“I gotcha, buck-o! Man, ya’re an easy scare!”

Tokken’s face flushed red and he hollered back, and the Mynotaur even began to slam his fist onto the table to really sell his amusement. But there was something off about how the bull cackled away his breath. While his wheeze felt genuine, it also felt overplayed and theatrical. There was something wrong, Tokken assumed, but he saw it smart not to point it out directly. He simply played along with the banter.

“It’s messed up to play with people’s minds like that, man!” Tokken said, “You know I’m a scrambled head at heart!”

“Hey, you insisted on the Deceit thing.” Norman gave one last coughing chuckle. “And that ain’t where your heart is.”

“You know what I mean, dullard!”

“Man, I gotta tell ya, your body needs muscle, but your mind needs to settle down even more. What’s buggin’ the old noggin’, hm?” Norman asked in an all-too-friendly vibe. It made the lad more comfortable at least. Took his mind off things. Maybe he was just becoming crazy with all his suspicions and scrupulousness.

Maybe he was going too far with his own mind.

Tokken scratched his shoulder and tapped his shoe against the floor. “I have a parasite.”

“A parasite?” Norman repeated, folding his arms as well as he had long finished his food; leaving behind sizeable crumbs. “Stomach bug? We got antibiotics.”

“No, not that kind,” Tokken said this while shaking his head, holding up a hushing hand. “It’s a parasite that infects my thoughts alone.”

“Shit, a brain tumour?”

“No. Vicks… I suppose it’s one that infects my desires, more than my thoughts. I don’t want to be a rich man. I want to be a calm man. I want to live out my days in a cabin in the woods with few neighbours and no noise.”

Norman sniggered. “Don’t we all? How’s that any bad?”

“That’s not the bad part. The bad part is that, for some reason, I’m not destined to.”

“Kiddo, destiny’s a fickle thing. It’s not——”

“My lineage demands I don’t,” Tokken said decisively, albeit with remorse. “This parasite I have, it’s the ‘Tsuki’ blood coursing through my veins. It’s furthermore embodied by this.” He reached down to his belt and produced the infamous folded dagger he had been entrusted with, placing it on the table among the crumbs.

The Mynotaur’s ears drooped. “Oh…”

Tokken nodded solemnly. “Can’t do much about it, I suppose.”

“Why not just say ‘screw it’ and live your own ways?”

“I did consider that. In fact, I was this close to committing to it. But then I had a run-in with someone who stopped being so mystifying and dropped a bit of truth into me.” The lad took his last bite, letting the words process in both of their respective minds. After chewing his food, he continued. “Noire. You know, my whole life I’ve been spared from reality time and time again, even when I could finally will away enough cowardice to peek outside my bubble. But the people I reached out to, they refused to fill me in on or even hint at where to find out exactly what my family’s done or what I’m supposed to do as their latest and only child. But Noire, he’s the first person who knew of my family’s name and gave it to me straight. Made it clear as day. I can’t figure out the motive, but I think I don’t have to. I just need to get this done so I can finally be free and live by my own terms.”

Norman looked off the side, up at the ceiling, over by the kitchen counter where food was served like a buffet. “I don’t get it, buck-o. Who’s stopping you from startin’ now?”

The fork on the teen’s end dragged up and down the plate’s surface, slow and gentle to not make too many unpleasant noises. He watched the knife's engravings glow and dim ever so subtly. “I’m the last living member of the Tsuki heritage. My entire bloodline hinges on my cooperation. I don’t know if I could live with such a conscience weighing me down.”

“Have calves, then! Er, babies. Let those bloodsuckers know about it all and give ‘em the choice. And if they’re not cool with it, make sure they tell ya grandkids and so on. Seems simple enough.”

Tokken looked back up at the Mynotaur, who was forced to stare back with an uncomfortable shuffle of the shoulders that definitely did not befit such a hulking, intimidating Cryptid whose arms could likely pull off tank barrels. For once, Norman had said something worth thinking over. Even still, Tokken waved the idea off after a few seconds.

“No, no. I can’t just drop that problem on my descendants. It wouldn’t ease my mind any better. Besides,” he said with a cautionary tone, “there's no guarantee I'll ever have children of my own.”

“You think so?”

“Just an inkling. I know myself better than anyone; or, I'd like to think so.”

Norman’s eyes darted around trying to get a grasp on the impish boy he had befriended. ‘Impish’ by his standards. “I don’t know what to tell ya, kiddo. You seem pretty convinced.”

Tokken sighed. “Yeah, I could be clinging to something just because it’s more solid than the damp sludge of uncertainty I could stick to otherwise. It’s a matter of walking down the path laid out before me or pathing my own.”

“Which of the two best suits you?”

“I’m not one to step out of my comfort zone.”

“Then it’s settled,” the furred Cryptid said, standing up and taking both empty plates. “Follow where your tiny little heart takes ya, human. Just remember; you’re free to make a pitstop over by the mountains if ya ever pop nearby. You’re a welcome soul in my house, alright?”

The lad was left to reel for a moment, his lips parting and his eyes widening, before he too stood up and walked beside him. He soon noticed how loud the cafeteria had become. Roughly fifty soldiers now filled the room; a number much too large that seemed tiny when in a place as big as this.

Once the dirty dishes were deposited amongst others to be cleaned, the pair took off to the halls, with Norman declaring he’d have to get back to his common duties soon enough. During their walk, still baffled by Norman’s excessive display of kindness, Tokken spoke up again.

“So, I’m welcome, am I?”

Norman nodded without hesitation. “Sure ya are, kiddo. You’d do with an earful every now and then, too. You know. Rip your thoughts out of the clutter.”

Tokken could only think to thank the beast, though he knew not how far to extend his gratitude. This was normal after all, wasn’t it? Weren’t allies supposed to share rooves, drink and laugh about the world and its tasteless gimmicks? Still, he felt compelled to say something at least.

“I guess I’ll have to visit sometime,” Tokken said, a crack in his voice that Norman either chose to ignore or didn’t hear.

"It’s a promise, then,” Norman said with a pleased huff.

Tokken closed his eyes. For once, he smiled genuinely, and the little hair on his arms stood up as goosebumps formed on his skin. Deciding to change the subject, he asked, “I heard you went to war.”

Norman chuckled for some reason. Likely in amusement to Tokken’s unusual surprise. “That’s right, yeah.”

“How’d it go?”

“So-so. We won, but we took a hit. Lost a bunch of good men and a cat lady I used to see at the arena. I’ve always been a bit of a softie when it comes to the ol’ comrades, so it gets me down sometimes, but I can’t complain. We still won, and I should be happy about that,” the Mynotaur explained, looking at his dry right palm and the wide scar that dragged like a ravine from end to end horizontally.

Tokken cradled his head with his hands. “I’m sorry that happened. I think you’re right to feel that way, though I’m no expert on emotions. Far from it…” The teen cleared his throat and straightened himself up. “And hey, I’m also sorry I couldn’t be here for you. I’ll try to lend an ear next time we see each other.”

“Don’t go pityin’ me, Tokkes. But thank you. You’re not half bad.”

“Well, we’ll have to see about that,” Tokken said.

Norman raised a brow and punched his shoulder, making the boy whine. “Don’t go doubting my praise, either.”

“Yes, sir…”

“Oh! Speaking of the war, we captured two of 'em. Not just any dregs; we got the freakin’ Wraithsmans!” Norman sung with a victorious flex of his brawn.

Tokken caught Norman’s almost childishly excited expression out of the corner of his eye and sniggered. “The Wraithsmans, huh? I’m pretty sure I heard about them, too. Aren’t you playing with fire, taking those people in here?”

“We got ‘em leashed up tight, and them two are the last, so don’t worry, buck-o. Rumours say it was all Corvus’ work.”

“Just him, huh? Guy must be stronger than I thought.”

“I’m only half as surprised. Man, ya need to see that Celestial swing that sword around. Won’t ever catch up! Blindin’!”

Tokken snorted and laughed. “And what about you? Did you do any good?”

Norman pointed at himself all too proudly and said, “Sure I did! Knocked over a wagon, too! Right as its cannon finished turning, WHAM! Sent it on a roll!”

“A steel wagon? Just how tough are you people?”

“We’re the Syndicate, buck-o. We’re killin’ machines when we wanna be. Ain’t a damn thing can break our shields,” Norman exclaimed at a voice that echoed throughout the halls and brought on a new surge of embarrassment Tokken's way.

The lad just shaked his head and smiled. “You’re a lively one. And a proud one, too. But not too proud…” He stopped, making sure Norman noticed and stopped too. “You know, Norman, you’re alright. I’d whipped my mind mad with suspicion and dread when I first came here, but you’ve done me a service. You might just be one example, but I think I’m starting to see why you and your allies seem so close-knit. It’s like you’re made to work together. I find it admirable.”

“Shucks, kiddo. Ya’ll make me——!”

Their conversation, as well as the many tuned out whispers, chats and chuckles of the other workers strolling or stomping by came to a halt as a loud voice boomed into the Facility’s every room and passageway from speakers in the ceiling.

“Warning: a great mass of unidentified mana stressors have been detected near the base. All available soldiers report to an armoury and coordinate a defence immediately. This message will now repeat.”

Tokken flailed around and panicked, grabbing the beast by the tufts of hair on his chest. “What the hell!? What’s going on…?”

Norman looked concerned yet collected, frustrated more than anything else. With a solid frown that replaced his usual friendliness, he said, “Looks like we’re out of time.”

“What does that——?”

The Mynotaur suddenly dropped to his knees, coming down to eye-level with the young human. Taking his shoulders and shaking them to get his attention, the horned biped whose complexion was more severe than Tokken had ever seen said, “Listen, don’t be stubborn, buck-o. Get your ass to the basement vaults and stay put. Don’t go anywhere near the front doors. Wait until you know it’s safe, alright?”

Tokken blinked and shook his head. “I will, but Norman, what is this?”

“If I’d have to guess, it looks like the Reds are here,” Norman said, standing up again and preparing to run off, but not before grabbing Tokken’s shoulder again firmly and making him look in the direction his arm was pointing. “See that blue sign a tenth a klick that way? Head there and follow it, and don’t look back, ya hear?”

“Wait, wait! What about the others?!”

“They’ll make it, now go, go, go!” Norman insisted, pushing the teen forward and forcing him to begin his sprint.

It took less than ten seconds for Tokken to feel out of breath, but he ran as fast as he could. It all felt just so surreal to him. Why did Norman act so strangely? Should he have explained in further detail what he was told to do? Perhaps then, Norman might’ve told him not to do what he ought to. But if he ought to, was there really a choice in the first place? Could he choose cowardice over choicelessness, and give his children the weight of his burdens instead as Norman said?

In his dash which lead to an all-consuming blend of thoughts that clashed in his mind, just as he so often did, he had failed to notice that his legs were beginning to go numb. Tokken was the furthest person from exercise, and his latest tidings had made his already weak muscles terribly sore. The sudden sprint was no good on his practically malnourished, untrained body, and so he fell and skid for a breather, feeling his knees ache.

“Ah, I see…” a voice other than his own said then, with a quality of absolute misery straining each syllable. “It seems the Guardian’s presence is only faintly noticeable. He mustn’t have been here of late, and thereby you couldn’t complete your deed. You must feel useless. I feel sorry for you.”

Tokken’s breath caught in his throat as he pieced together who it came from. He raised his head up and saw exactly who he thought it was. Standing there in the middle of the hall with the morning’s light illuminating the right side of his body, an all-too-casual appearance robed in Syndie attire, with nobody but the two of them nearby, the charcoal-haired magician who had bestowed upon the last Tsuki quite possibly his most maddening desire remained almost indifferent before him.

“Noire…?” Tokken asked cautiously, seeing a familiar face contorted by utter dissatisfaction.