In only a day they had already traversed halfway through S3. Syndicate after Syndicate were uprooted along their warpath towards S4. Due to the time restraint, they could not afford to escort the people they had freed back to Armistice Point.
But this was not an issue.
“Looks like an Office is cleaning up after us. I guess that woman was trustworthy after all.” This voice came from Res. She was perched atop the only tree in these urban wastes carrying a brass spyglass.
Thought its murky lenses she saw armed men and women swarm into the distant encampments they had freed. They didn’t immediately escort them out. Rather, they waited until one of the rescued people revealed a black feather. This was one of the many spare Witness Feathers Frost held onto which had finally found a fitting purpose.
When Frost sent the blue-uniform woman back she had given her a feather as proof that she carried Frost’s request. The coins she offered were plentiful, and it easily bribed her into working for them so long as no one else could match her price. Her request was simple and aimed for the Justica Arms 6th Apostle.
They were to create recovery quests on her behalf. The payment would arrive later, but in return, the coins she offered far surpassed what one could make in an entire year. She did not know if it would work or if Justica Arms would believe the woman, but thankfully it had gone smoothly according to Res’ observations.
What remained was the issue of how they were supposed to identify who could be recovered. This was where Jury’s intellect came into play. A stroke of genius hit her immediately after they pondered on what could be used as proof. Tugging on Frost’s coat, Jury ruffled her lover’s feathers and grinned.
“Feathers!”
Frost was instantly taken back to the time when she suggested skewering the One Thousand Eyed Bird. Somehow, the obvious answer was the hardest to figure out. Currently, her group temporarily rested in a small, grassy clearing. The grass was scorched, reduced to crumbling grey ashes years ago. The lack of sunlight prevented them from proliferating, leaving every ounce of greenery as nothing but a shriveled husk.
“That’s going to become your mark soon enough. A black feather will be synonymous with your name. Good to know Justica Arms is also helping out in whatever way they can.” Res continued, returning the spyglass to its compact state. “2 hours till nightfall.”
“We’ll start figuring things out overnight. You’d think the other Ateliers would step in with the Hungry being known to invade the City of Spades at night. Didn’t you mention this during one of those Arbiter Council meeting-thingies?” Cer answered, sitting on a patch of withered grass underneath the lonely tree as she stared at the red hue of the inner City, baring her fangs with spite. “Jester this, Jester that. Well, what do you know! We were right all along!”
“How frustrating. They knew but they called us crazy.” Res spat.
“Hear that Jury? Frost? Ignis~! We were super smart all along! We could see the cracks in all things but no one ever listened to us.” Ber could only shake her head, visibly frustrated by the negligence of the Nexus and its Beholders. “If they tried to investigate then who knows! Maybe they could’ve figured out Scarlet Logic was involved with their Impuritas enemies. But no. Let’s all laugh at the Jesters.”
It was especially frustrating for them, but they were professional enough to keep their emotions at a minimum. Frost, who also gazed upon the bright lights of the city in a darkening sky, had similar experiences. Of course, they were nothing compared to hers, but it was similar enough that she deeply understood just how much it must have stung.
No. A sting would be too generous. It was more akin to a blade being driven into their chest, twisting with every backhanded response they received. Frost took a seat beside Cer, pulling out her bizarre medical instrument – the Die Agnosis – and placed the flat part against Cer’s back. After asking for permission, of course!
“Do you gotta ask every time?” Cer mumbled. “I prefer a head scratched or a tail stroke. You should know that by now. So – Is it working? Can you see my heart?”
“Wait a second. Hold still and just take deep breaths for a bit. I’m trying to figure it out myself.” Frost kindly urged.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Fine.”
Frost had been trying to figure out how to use her Atelier Item ever since they left F-H5. It functioned identically to a regular stethoscope, save hers was coated in a strange pale color. The reason she used it now was to test if she could somehow scour deeper into their hearts as their emotions heightened but that didn’t seem to be the case, leaving her completely stumped.
Instead, she could only hear Cer’s gentle breaths, her collected heartbeat, and –
– A second heartbeat.
This did not come from inside of Cer. Rather, it seemed to pulsate from somewhere much further ahead. None could hear it besides Frost only when the stethoscope was used. It travelled through the ground and up into her body, almost urging her to progress forward.
She could already tell that a major Heart of some kind awaited.
“Nope. Nothing… Just the heartbeats… We might be up against scores of Complex Hearts once we arrive in S4. Not looking forward to seeing what a Crimson Hunger one looks like.” Their sentiments were identical, and Ignis scowled in the direction of the City.
“… revenge…” Ignis yearned to spill their blood.
“They’re not tasty at all either.” Jury stuck out her tongue. “Expect a whole forest of Complex Hearts. It’ll be easy, but let’s not forget that they have all kinds of weapons to use against us.”
“They’ve already taken a fragment of Ber’s past. No telling what else they can do to a Moon. We have a lead now either way.” Frost responded.
Indeed. After having annihilated more than 20 small Syndicates, they had finally gotten a lead towards a major Syndicate that resided far ahead. They were the ones who took the payment from all manners of Syndicates along S4. So far, they hadn’t truly understood what the Seeds were besides that it was what many sought after, paid by the severed hands and fingers of others.
“Reminds me of the Triple Paw Complex in a way. Except they use hands in exchange for a seed. Didn’t your brother run a Syndicate that went after –” Suddenly, before Frost could finish talking, the screeching of a nail being dragged along a chalkboard pierced their ears.
“Don’t remind us…. Raoul… He couldn’t have been a part of this. That was 30 years ago.” Ber suddenly became defensive, clawing at the walls of a ruined home. “Nothing’s changed. Everyone’s taking each other’s hands. Raoul took them as punishment for those humans, and exchanged wishes for them.”
“Well, we’re about to find out either way. Ber. Come here.” Jury beaconed her, causing the woman to approach with a scowl. However, upon receiving a hearty head pat, her troubles all seemed to crumble away. “There there~ Mm. It’s too similar for it all to not be connected. Severed hands, paws, fingers – We won’t let them get away with it. That’s why we are here in the first place!”
“… I’m just sick of seeing it again. It’s all so similar to Grandis that I just want to shout at the top of my lungs. Scream. Punch something…”
This ordeal tormented Ber. It felt as though it was all designed to break her. They all had to wonder what the significance of the severed hands truly was, because there were too many instances where this had cropped up.
“Ber… If you lose your hand again, then Frost can heal you.” Ignis approached, hugging Ber.
“Aha… It’s not about being healed or losing them.” Ber stroked Ignis’ head, infatuated by her black gauntlets. “It’s not like me. Totally not like me. And it’s all your fault Frost!” She smirked all of a sudden.
“Huh?”
“Because my tough act is going downhill ever since you became a casanova!” Ber’s mood quickly returned as she slandered Frost for having swoon every single one of them, which of course, was a twisted version of the truth. “Picking berries again. Wanting to cook. Dress up like a normal girl… I’m one as well, you know that? But – What – Can – You – Do? Keel over and die? Even those people we saved wanted to live. Luckily they had people there to hear them cry for help. I wish we had someone to answer us!”
“Exactly. Ber~” Cer melded with her, as did Res.
“You don’t have to keep talking.”
Anytime one of the triplets expressed emotional anguish, the others would immediately come to their side. Their bond was strong, and Frost admired how close they were all things considered.
They were called Jesters for being Cassandras.
“Cassandra Syndrome. Their woes and observations were dismissed, resulting in their anguish.”
Ever since they became Moons. They’re more patient than me. It’s not like the story of the boy who cried wolf because they weren’t ever taken seriously. Since the start. That kind of negligence makes everyone up there just as guilty as Scarlet Logic. They knew something was wrong. But no one wants to step on each other’s toes, huh.
“Scarlet Logic is especially strong. A lone Atelier may not even stand a chance against them.”
And that’s where we come in. We have a lead to follow. If anyone’s going to know what these seeds really are, then it’ll be a Syndicate with one in possession. They’re near the S3 and S4 border, so it works for us.
A large Syndicate was akin to an established Association. Their numbers usually hovered in the high hundreds to a thousand. Blood Filters was their name and unlike the previous small fries that had one-sided wiped out, they were bound to be met with immense resistance.
And if that seed could truly grant power as Jury suggested, then devastation was inevitable. Frost hoped that it would allow them to springboard straight into S4 – the territory where the Crimson Hunger were the strongest.
She had to ask herself once again if Complex Hearts were the strongest of all.
After all, Leitmotif and the Bloody Herring took orders from people far above them.