I have a message from another time... Eyrie Productions, Unlimited presents UNDOCUMENTED FEATURES FUTURE IMPERFECT - SYMPHONY OF THE SWORD No. 5 - Le Droit du Dragon Benjamin D. Hutchins with Philip J. Moyer Pearson Mui (c) 2013 Eyrie Productions, Unlimited THURSDAY, MARCH 11, 2410 CASTLE MR'KRETH'YYR HYERUUL, ENIGMA SECTOR What really bothered Uum'y R'yuu-z'ky wasn't that her grandmother had set her up; it was that she hadn't seen it coming. Umi had long been the one point of contact between her expat parents and most of her extended family back on Hyeruul. To say that relations between Leonard and Embelinda Ryuuzaki (as they spelled their names in New Avalon) and their clans back in the Old Country had been strained for some time would be to be somewhat grandiose about one's understatement, albeit more so for the latter than the former. The leaders of House R'yuu-z-ky regarded L'yynr'd as little worse than eccentric. He was a grown man, after all, and not one whose birth placed him high on the list of people who might one day have a prominent role to play in the future of the clan, so if what he wanted to do was run off to New Avalon and pretend to be human, well, so be it. There were worse perversions. Things were different in Umi's mother's case, because M'belyyn'da Mr'kreth'yyr was the only daughter and namesake of the once- great house's matriarch. Duchess Mr'kreth'yyr (now sometimes called M'belyyn'da the Elder) had gone to great trouble to secure an heir despite the difficulties imposed on doing so by an accident of biology. So often had she tried and failed that, rumor had it, she had become quite deranged about the matter. Some particularly vitriolic wags even speculated that she had essentially worked the poor old Duke to death in pursuit of the goal. As such, she had not been best pleased when, on the occasion of her eightieth birthday, M'belynn'da the Younger had eloped with a minor scion of an inferior house instead of marrying K'yr'wan, Duke of Kyn'o'bi. This would have been a sparkling match, one that created a lasting alliance with one of the foremost of the great houses and ensured that House Mr'kreth'yyr would survive - as an adjunct branch of Kyn'o'bi, to be sure, but survive - for generations to come. Instead, she'd run away with L'yynr'd R'yuu-z'ky, and her mother's life's work had, in one moment, come to nothing. The only prospects Mr'kreth'yyr had now were Umi's aunt and uncle, the offspring of the Duchess's much-harassed younger brother Ryk'art, and they - thanks to the dilatory fashion in which he had secured his posterity - were mere children, much younger than Umi, who was now just past eighty herself. As such, the old woman was deeply embittered. She hadn't spoken directly to her daughter in more than a century, or her son-in- law ever, as far as anyone knew. In her early fifties (the human equivalent would be around the age of ten), Umi had attempted to repair this rift with all the guileless zeal of a child. She had failed, but she had at least managed to establish reasonably cordial relations with the Old Country herself, and broker an uneasy truce between her parents and maternal grandmother in which they would, at least, all keep speaking to -her.- She still hoped to accomplish more along those lines at some later point, but for now, she acknowledged that this was the best she was going to do. As such, when her grandmother had invited her to represent the family's younger generation at an Important Court Occasion back on the homeworld, Umi had looked at her calendar, determined that Fritz Koopman Memorial High School would be on break that week and that she'd be finished with Utena and Corwin's wedding by the time she had to be on Hyeruul, and accepted. The rescheduling of said wedding had thrown her calculations off a little, but then she saw that the new date would miss her obligation on Hyeruul on the -other- side. It'd be a bit of a rush to get to Cephiro by Friday morning, but she could do it if everything went according to the timetable she'd been given. She'd been received at Castle Mr'kreth'yyr with all the civilities a daughter of a diminished but proud noble house could reasonably expect, exchanged pleasantries with her grandmother and certain old family retainers - everything seemed to be going quite well. The next part, she had to admit, was her own stupid fault. She did not customarily wear her Lens in the bath, partly because it was annoying and partly because she could never quite shake the suspicion that if her mind wandered sufficiently, everyone on the network would see her. This habit was so ingrained that she didn't even think about it when she'd unclasped the bracer it was fitted to and set it on the nightstand in her bedchamber. It only occurred to her that this had been a rookie mistake when she emerged from the bathroom twenty minutes later, wrapped in one towel and scrubbing at her hair with another, to find her Lens gone, her grandmother standing by the door, and an unmistakably purposeful garment laid out on the bed. Umi stood regarding the situation for a few moments, her expression settling through dismay, bewilderment and realization to a pensive scowl. Then, speaking slowly and carefully, she asked, "What," leaving an audible pause where the Duchess would probably know the words "the fuck" belonged, "is going on?" "Get dressed, Uum'y," her grandmother replied briskly. Umi regarded the dress laid out on the bed, then said, "I don't think so. Not in that." "Do not test me, young lady," said the Duchess coldly. "Not today." Umi blinked at her in scornful amazement. "Don't test YOU? You lure me here under false pretenses, take away my clothes and my Lens while I'm bathing, leave a -wedding dress- in their place, and I'M not to test YOU?" She folded her arms across her towel-wrapped chest. "I'm sorry, did it mysteriously become the 14th century while I was asleep?" The Duchess shook her head sadly and said, "It pains me that my own granddaughter has never learned respect for her native customs - to say nothing of her native tongue." Umi laughed coldly. The old woman's eyebrows went up. Umi was not speaking Hyelian, but rather the high form of the celestial language of Alfheim, whence the world's original settlers had come, millennia ago. This language was intelligible to native Hyelian-speakers, but sounded strange and stilted to the modern ear. Even by Duchess Mr'kreth'yyr's standards, it was an almost -preposterously- formal way to be addressed. The twist in that was that Umi was using the least formal of High Alvish's several second persons into the bargain. She was being excruciatingly formal -and- insultingly familiar -at the same time,- a spectacular peak of sarcasm that wouldn't have been attainable in many other tongues. It was like being verbally abused by an angry angel. The Duchess recovered her aplomb quickly enough, though. Stalking into the room, she glared at her wayward granddaughter and said, She made a dismissive gesture. <... -children.- That boy you argue with so much? He's just a breeze through your hair. He'll wither and die before you even reach your third century. But this one I've found for you... he'll always be there. You'll actually be able to grow OLD with him.> Umi spat back. This was not entirely fair - though aged, Duchess M'belyyn'da the Elder was still a tall, slim, elegant woman - but Umi was in far too towering a fury now to care as she went on hotly, the Duchess interrupted her. Umi raged. the Duchess replied imperturbably. Umi laughed mirthlessly at that. she said. The Duchess snorted. Raising long, slim fingers with elegantly manicured nails that put her granddaughter in mind of talons, she enumerated each of the following alternatives as she named it: Then she narrowed her blue eyes and snapped, in a voice that carried more than a hint of eldritch command, Umi's will was strong and her blood was high, but without her Lens, she knew she could resist her grandmother's witchery only so far, and for so long, before the struggle risked doing her permanent harm. She wondered whether the Duchess would actually take the matter that far, decided this wasn't the time to find out, and moved slowly to comply, making it plain that she was doing so only because she was choosing not to fight the battle in this place, at this time. Her grandmother's spell was -not- enough to stop her tongue, and as she dressed, she issued what she fully intended to be the last warning she was going to give: Fixing the old woman with the most venomous glare she could muster - which was of such intensity it actually caused the Duchess to take a half-step back - she finished, Within the hour, the bridal party was on its way to Mr'kreth'yyr's ancient mountain chapel, high on the ridgeside overlooking the castle. All the Duchess's court were there to see them off, bowing and throwing flower petals from baskets in the bride's path as she crossed the postern drawbridge, flanked by the Duchess and her castellan. All agreed after they had gone that Countess Uum'y looked radiant in her white and sea-blue wedding dress, which went so well with her hair and her porcelain skin. All but one. Lan'yehra, the chambermaid under whose purview the young Countess's bedchamber fell, had been in the linen closet adjacent to the bathroom and had heard much of the argument between her and her grandmother. She hadn't intended to eavesdrop, but when she'd heard the younger woman's voice raised in fury, speaking that ancient, ornate dialect, she had been transfixed, unable to tear herself away until Countess Uum'y's final promise had been uttered. Now, alone among the members of staff mustered to see them off, Lan'yehra perceived the stiffness of the bride's gait, the glassy fixedness of her smile, and her conscience raged at her. She knew (or at least believed, not being a student of international law) that the Duchess was within her rights, as she had claimed; knew also that she would be dismissed without a reference - at best! - if what she was considering was ever discovered. But after agonizing until the white speck of the bride's gown disappeared around the first bend in the mountain path, she knew she would never be able to live with herself if she didn't do it. Thinking quickly, she saw that - as expected - Cook was taking advantage of the unscheduled visit to the grounds, and the absence of the Duchess, to indulge himself in some pipeweed before he returned to his duties. Lan'yehra slipped away from the rest of the staff as they filed back inside, then ran to the telephone in the kitchen. "... called Umi's mom, who called Fuu, and that's all we know," said Hikaru Shidou as she, Fuu Hououji, and Nall Silverclaw arrived on a hilltop near Castle Mr'kreth'yyr. "An -arranged marriage?-" said Nall skeptically. He looked around the large boulder they'd arrived behind and down; from here he could see the last furlong or so of the road to the castle, the front gate through the outer wall, and much of the castle itself. "Are you sure someone isn't having fun with you?" he asked, turning back to regard the Rune Knights. "It's 2410, for crying out loud." "This is Hyeruul," Fuu told him, still panting for breath after the hell-for-leather dash she and Hikaru had just made from the Rose Gate to Ohtori Hall and back again. "You of all people should know: They do things differently here." "And Umi's grandmother must know she'd never go along with it willingly," Hikaru pointed out. "Why else would she have stolen Umi's Lens? She must have known that if Umi had it, she'd be able to put up one hell of a fight." "I would be surprised if she didn't do so anyway," Fuu observed. "We may well be acting to protect the Duchess Mr'kreth'yyr as much as anything else." Nall sighed. "All right, let's go see if we can find out what's going on." And then, somewhat to Hikaru and Fuu's dismay, he walked right down the hill and up to the castle's front gate, where a pair of Mr'kreth'yyr guards blocked his path with crossed halberds and demanded that he identify himself. Running to catch up, Hikaru and Fuu didn't hear what he said to them, but they arrived in time to hear one of them reply: "Ah, yes. Her Grace the Duchess left a message for you if you were to appear today." "And what might that be?" Nall inquired pleasantly. The guard whirled his halberd and placed the point of its spike under Nall's chin. "Begone," he said. Nall's fists clenched, the pleasant smile vanishing from his face. The two Rune Knights ran up on either side of him, their presence causing several more guards to emerge from doors set into the castle's main gate. Hikaru suspected that the three of them probably could overrun the entire security force of Castle Mr'kreth'yyr if they really put their minds to it, but she also knew it would be a long and bloody affair, and she really hadn't come out on this trip expecting or hoping she'd have to kill a bunch of guys who were just trying to do their jobs. She glanced at Nall, a plea in her eyes, and he caught the look. For a moment he stared down the guardsman, his face cold; then he opened his hands, reached up, and calmly pushed the spike out from under his chin and off to one side. Without a word, he turned and stalked away, the two Rune Knights following him. He said nothing until they were back where they had arrived, out of sight of the gate; then he put his back against the boulder and slid down to the ground, forehead in hands. "OK," he conceded, "it's probably true. Now what the hell do we do? We can't go - " He was interrupted as a doorway of light appeared out of thin air before him and three figures emerged, just as he, Fuu, and Hikaru had done a few minutes before. "Oh, good, you haven't wandered off," said Wakaba Shinohara cheerily as the door closed behind them and disappeared. "What's going on?" Hikaru explained as fast as possible, which in her case was pretty fast. Wakaba took a moment to take it in, then scowled. "Well, that's - ... it's a lot of things, actually, but for brevity's sake let's just go with unacceptable," she said. "I know, right?" Hikaru agreed. "Even if Umi wasn't my friend, I couldn't just let something like this happen." "So what's the plan?" Wakaba wondered. "Do we just knock the place down?" She made a fist, her Lens emitting a glow like a tongue of emerald flame, and smiled grimly. "I'm up for that." "We can't use force," said Nall. Wakaba turned and eyed him. "Dragon says what?" she said, puzzled. "If we go in there and start trashing things, the guards will turn out in force," he explained. "We'll have to fight them. All of them. And we'd probably win, but... well, among other things, it'd be an international incident. A -big- one, particularly now that -you're- here," he added to Wakaba. "One of the Experts of Justice wrecks a castle on Hyeruul? One that -isn't- a front for a Big Fire terror operation or a distribution center for Velocity-9 or something? How do you spell 'shitstorm'?" "It does seem like a disproportionate response," Mitsuru Tsuwabuki acknowledged, with some evident reluctance. "They're forcing your girlfriend to get married against her will, Nall!" Wakaba burst out. "What are you planning to do, file a polite grievance with the local constabulary?" "That wouldn't help directly," Nall replied miserably. "Arrangements like this are legal on Hyeruul." "Not in Zeta Cygni!" Hikaru insisted. "Umi's dual citizenship... complicates things," Nall said. "We'll have to get Umi's parents to file a protest with the Foreign Office - they'll probably turn it over to an IPO arbiter. If they push hard enough, it'll probably be annulled and - " The sound of the slap echoed off the boulder and the surrounding hills like a whipcrack, stunning everyone - not just the young man whose face it had connected with - a little... ... and all the more because it had come from the hand of Fuu Hououji, her own face scarlet with fury. "For the King's sake, yo, sack up an' HANDLE this!" she snapped, her usually suppressed native dialect resurfacing in full force. Then she leaned forward like a baseball manager arguing with an umpire and shouted into his face, "IS YOU _IS_ OR IS YOU _AIN'T_ A _DRAGON?!_" Nall blinked at her, utterly dumbfounded. Then, very slowly, as he reflexively raised his hand to touch his stinging cheek, he smiled. Strangely enough, when they reached the Mr'kreth'yyr ancestral chapel high on the mountaintop and Umi was introduced to her intended groom, she found the day's first cause for something like optimism. In fact, she'd have laughed aloud at the sight of him, if she hadn't been sure it would be misinterpreted. Not because she fell instantly and passionately in love with him, and no longer minded being forced to marry him by her grandmother's sorcery. The former didn't happen and the latter would still have been flatly unacceptable to her even if it had. No, she wanted to laugh with relief when she saw Prince B'ghanna'vel because he was: - A mere lad, no more than forty-five or fifty Standard years old (a human equivalent of nine or ten); and - Visibly terrified at the prospect of going forward with the day's agenda. He wouldn't even look her in the eye when her grandmother and his own chaperone, an elderly woman who (unlike Duchess M'belyyn'da the Elder) really did qualify for the title of "crone", had introduced them; only mumbled some prescribed response about being honored to make the acquaintance of his bride that he had clearly been compelled to memorize. For her part, Umi's grandmother still couldn't control her voice, so her reply was far less courtly. She gave him a sympathetic little smile and said, "Don't worry, kid, I'll get us out of this somehow." the Duchess snapped. Umi replied coldly, Umi saw the surprised, suspicious flicker of gratification cross her grandmother's face at that, and was pleased with herself for not smiling darkly at the sight of it. Umi knew the expected answer she was to give to the priest's one question - one of the few times at which the bride was even really acknowledged, much less consulted, in a traditional Hyelian wedding ceremony - was three words long, and its negative counterpart four. Her grandmother appeared to have taken her remark to mean that she intended to give the one and not the other. Umi had three very different words in mind, however. She made the old woman force her into her place simply for the sake of wasting her energy, then stood demurely and awaited her chance. She'd only have the one, and she mustn't squander it. Without her Lens, as her grandmother apparently well knew, Umi didn't have access to the bulk of her own magical abilities: she couldn't summon her heartblade, the Heart of the Sea, not her Rune Knight's escudo armor, and her Cephirean elemental sorcery was greatly muted in Midgard without it. She knew a few spells that -weren't- Cephirean, though, having learned them, ironically enough, from Nall. These were bits and pieces of Draconic and Alvish magic, mostly to do with the elements of water and ice as well, since that was the area of expertise and interest she and the dragon shared. One, in particular, she was certain would at least put the priest out of action. Then she would have to deal with her grandmother and the dozen or so guardsmen ringing the chapel... but it was better than no plan at all. Umi waited through Hei'glynn's interminable spiel about the ancient sanctity of the ceremony they were about to perform. The man seemed blissfully unconscious of the irony of his position. She wondered idly whether he knew she was there under protest, or had been told she was a willing participant, or simply didn't care. She supposed it didn't really matter. He was about to have the position very much clarified for him anyway. The priest finished his speech, then made another, shorter one to Prince B'ghanna'vel about the duties (Hah! thought Umi scornfully) and privileges (Double hah!) he was about to assume, to the Countess Uum'y of the House of Mr'kreth'yyr (which wasn't even her -name, that would probably foul the legal waters right there) and - more importantly to virtually everyone there - to that house. Then he asked whether the prince was willing to take on all these things with an open heart. Come on, kid, have a little backbone, she thought, but the prince - red-faced and looking at the floor - stammered out the expected response, Apparently satisfied with such a lukewarm response, Hei'glynn turned to Umi and made a similar speech, much shorter on privileges and longer on duties. Umi was supposed to reply, but what she said instead - after a deep intake of breath that the Duchess took for the start of a resigned sigh - was three short, percussive syllables, uttered in a voice like thunder: "FO! Krah DIIN!" These syllables - the ancient Draconic words for "frost", "cold", and "freeze" - brought with them a torrent of arctic wind that slashed across the space between the bride and the celebrant, engulfing him in flying shards of frost. The priest cried out in consternation, driven back until he bumped the altar behind him. Before he could summon the wit or will to cast a counterspell of his own, he stiffened, his entire body sealed within a thick, gleaming rime of ice. He would live, but he wasn't going to be going anywhere for an hour or so, nor would he feel really warm again until sometime the following week. Giving him no further thought, Umi turned toward her grandmother, marshaling all her strength for what she was certain would be a monumental clash of wills. The look of utter shock on the old woman's face as their eyes met almost made the whole day worth the trouble, she had to admit. It would be one of the sights she treasured always, assuming she survived the next few minutes. /* Ramin Djawadi "2500 Tons of Awesome" _Pacific Rim: Original Motion Picture Soundtrack_ (2013) */ At that exact instant, the chapel's roof disappeared, ripped from its moorings and cast aside like the top of a cardboard box. Sunlight and cold mountain air poured into what had been a dim and fire- warmed space, shocking those within almost as much as the tremendous noise and the shattering suddenness of the demolition. A gigantic shape, at once serpentine and leonine, crashed down on the south side of the building, collapsing the stone wall with a crash of falling masonry. Umi and the Duchess turned from their own incipient battle to confront it, their eyes going wide at the same moment, for two entirely different reasons. cried the Duchess, horrified. Nall! thought Umi, but she had the presence of mind not to say anything out loud. Nall lowered his head, fixed his scarlet eyes on Duchess M'belyyn'da the Elder, and uttered his most terrible roar, a sound so powerful it shattered the few remaining unbroken windows in the north wall of the ruined chapel. A handful of the guardsmen regained enough of their wits to unsling their rifles and open fire, but small-arms fire was as useful against a full-grown dragon as throwing rocks would've been. He ignored them utterly, turned contemptuously away from the Duchess, and advanced one ground-shaking pace toward Umi. Prince B'ghanna'vel cried, throwing himself between his intended bride and the oncoming dragon, his dress sword drawn. Umi blinked, surprised and - if she was honest - a bit touched by the gesture, but concerned that he'd get himself killed. Nall was clearly in a bit of a mood, not that she could blame him, and he had no way of knowing that this boy was almost as much a victim of her grandmother's machinations as she was. However annoyed he might be, though, Nall was evidently not feeling homicidal today; he reached out with a foreclaw, which could have speared the boy like a kabob if he'd so desired, and simply knocked him aside, sending him flying. Bruised and winded, but basically unharmed, he fetched up against the far wall and lay stunned. Satisfied, the dragon collected his prize, turned (laying waste to another of the walls with a lashing sweep of his tail that sent the guardsmen scattering for cover), and unfurled his great feathered wings. Within seconds, he was gone, winging off between the peaks to the north and disappearing, the great blast of icy wind driven behind his wings having nearly completed the chapel's demolition. Moments later a small band of adventurers arrived, running up the mountain path from the south. Their apparent leader, an auburn- haired woman who looked to be some kind of thief-acrobat (by the Duchess's uncharitable estimation), looked around at the ruined chapel, its one remaining wall standing like a tombstone amid the desolation, and then quipped, "I guess I don't have to ask if you saw that." Duchess M'belyyn'da the Elder drew breath to order the interlopers off her ancestral lands, but before she could do so, Prince B'ghanna'vel had interposed himself, crying out, "You there, adventurers! You saw what happened? You must help me! I am Prince B'ghana'vel of Tel'vyyra'gath. That dragon has taken Countess Uum'y, my betrothed!" The adventurers' leader eyed him skeptically. "Kid, you should be learning your ABCs, not getting married." "Never mind that right now!" the young prince snapped, his eyes blazing with the sort of fire that had been entirely absent during the ceremony. "A life is at stake! Whether I truly wish to marry her or not, the Countess is in danger, and I must see her to safety. My honor demands it." Straightening his slightly tattered wedding tunic, he went on in an exaggeratedly mature tone of wounded dignity, "If you won't help me, I shall go alone." The adventurer looked deeply perplexed for a moment; then she said, "Hold that thought a second," turned, and gestured her colleagues into a sort of sports huddle. "(I'm starting to like this kid,)" Wakaba muttered quietly, grinning. "(What do you guys think?)"] ["(You know, he reminds me of someone,)" Tsuwabuki replied, angling his eyes at Hikaru. "(Someone really close by.)" "(Gee, go figure,)" said Wakaba. "(You guys are mean,)" Hikaru grumbled. "(He does seem sincere in his desire to help,)" Fuu mused. "(And his remarks lead me to suspect that he was no more willing a participant in this business than Umi.)" Wakaba nodded and broke the huddle, turning to face the prince again. "OK, Prince Bogan," she said. "We'll help you out." "Then hurry, there's no time to waste," the prince insisted, sparing no time to object to the strange shortening of his name. "The dragon went north. He must be the one who lairs on Merciless Peak. It's a three-hour walk, and that's if we make good time through the Valley of the Orcs - which I wouldn't count on, because, well, orcs." Fuu facepalmed and muttered out of the side of her mouth to Tsuwabuki, "(Geography was never Nall's strongest subject.)" Nall found an inviting flat spot near the peak of one of the jagged mountains to the north and landed there, released Umi, and then shifted back to his human form. "So!" he said cheerfully. "Did I just rescue you, or totally screw up some completely innocent religious observance that only -looked- like a forced wedding?" "Shut up," said Umi as she seized him in a fierce embrace, "you're not funny." "I don't agree with that," Nall objected, but beyond that he kept quiet as she hugged him. When she'd finished, she let him go, walked a few paces away, and sat down at one end of a long, bench-like rock. "Thank you for not hurting Prince B'ghanna'vel," she said. "This wasn't his fault. It was arranged by his great-aunt and my grandmother." "I suspected as much when I saw him," said Nall with a nod. He sat down at the other end of the rock. "Besides, I'm not in the habit of beating up little kids." Umi looked around at their bleak, windswept surroundings. It was more than a bit chilly up here, but she didn't particularly mind the cold; she was more curious than concerned at this point. "So... what's the plan now?" she wondered. "Now we wait for the others to get here with your Lens," Nall said. "And then we all get the hell off this planet." "Well, this is it. The Valley of the Orcs," said Prince Bogan (unnecessarily, given the giant sign reading VALLEY OF THE ORCS - ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK! next to the trail). "We must hurry. I can't even imagine what that dragon is doing to poor Countess Uum'y right now." "(I can,)" Wakaba muttered with a muted giggle, earning herself a swat up the back of the head from Tsuwabuki. "We're waiting for one more," Hikaru told the prince. "We don't want to get so far ahead that she won't be able to catch up to us." "What could your compatriot be doing that takes precedence over this?!" the prince demanded. "Retrieving stolen property," a voice remarked from up in one of the nearby trees, and then a lithe figure in brown-edged green - a simple tunic and trousers, of a cut that brought to the prince's mind old legends of the mysterious east - sprang down from a high branch to land before him. This individual was another young woman, human to judge from the slightly revolting brevity of her ears, with dark hair done up in an elaborate warrior's knot and the most remarkably garish makeup. She bowed to the prince with her hands interlocked before her chest, an ironic smile on her painted face. "Did you get it?" Wakaba asked. The girl in green touched a leather pouch at her belt. "Of course," she said. // EARLIER "Someone's going to have to get Umi's Lens back," Hikaru pointed out. Izumi smiled. "Leave that to me." Reaching into a pocket of her civvie trousers, she came out with a small, flat case. This turned out to contain a couple of short metal rods, which she used to quickly and expertly gather her long hair into a fighting bun, and several shallow jars of makeup. "Just tell me what I'm looking for," she said, applying the first broad swath of white to one cheek. Hikaru was caught up for a few seconds watching the speedy and efficient way in which the girl was transforming herself from pleasant stranger to masked warrior. In her place, Fuu answered by pushing up her sleeve to display her own mage-knight's Lens on its cuff of silvery metal. "Like this," she said, "only blue. If you find it, whatever you do, don't touch the gem itself. It's very dangerous to anyone but its owner." Izumi nodded, then dabbed her fingertips and drew bold red slashes above her eyes. "Thank you," she said, "I'm familiar with the principle." She rubbed red on her lips as well, kissing her fingertips, then blacked her thumb and put the finishing touches on her mask with it before wiping her fingers on a cloth and bundling the makeup kit away again. "I'll meet you on the trail that runs north into the mountains," she said, all business now; then she softened very slightly to wish Nall luck, turned, and departed so quickly she seemed to vanish. "Wow, Mitsuru," said Hikaru, impressed. "Your new girlfriend's a -ninja.-" Though the Kyoshi Warriors were not, in fact, ninja as such, they did receive some training in infiltration and sabotage, and Izumi had shown an aptitude for this work from an early age. Some, she knew, suspected that this was because of her Fire Nation ancestry; there were still those in the Earth Kingdom, and particularly on isolated Kyoshi Island, who believed that Fire Nationals were all natural liars and sneaks. Whatever the reason, she was good at the "shadow work" and she enjoyed it. She gained entry to the castle by leaping down to the top of one of the crenelated towers from the high crag to the east, a thing she was sure the ducal court's security advisors assumed no one could do without serious injury, if they'd ever considered it at all. From there it was a simple matter to slip past the relatively few guardsmen on duty and penetrate the inner reaches. Izumi ignored the obvious target of the castle's central treasure vault. Such an important and personal article would not, she felt certain, be there, with all the ordinary baubles and coins. No, Duchess Mr'kreth'yyr would have put it with her -own- things, her jewelry and papers, in her quarters - mistakenly believing, as so many people did, that their private places were more secure simply because they were so familiar. There was one guard on duty outside the Duchess's rooms, standing in such a way that it would be impossible to enter the ducal wing without dealing with him. Izumi might have gone around if she'd had more time, or known the construction of the castle better, but as it was, she would have to take him head-on. She had no real problems with that, though. A full castle alert would have caused problems both immediate and subsequent, but dealing up close and in person with this one man - that would send a message. She didn't even try to be subtle with this one; she simply emerged from the side passage she'd used to get this far and advanced toward him, hands at her sides, a coolly dismissive look on her painted face. He reacted with visible shock, both at her sudden appearance and the outlandish sight she presented, and declared, "Halt! Who goes?" Izumi didn't reply; she simply stepped up her pace to a purposeful trot, plunged her hands into the opposite sleeves, and drew her gilded battle fans. The guard drew his sword and advanced, the surprise fading from his face to be replaced with quizzical confidence. He had no idea who this intruder was, but his body language now that he'd had a good look at her was unconcerned. She was a tiny slip of a girl, not even fully-grown, and despite her fierce makeup and the smooth, assured way in which she moved, he couldn't imagine she'd be any match for the likes of him. He didn't even bother shouting for aid from any other guards who might be within nominal earshot. Just as she'd expected he wouldn't. It took Izumi sixteen seconds to separate him from his blade, and another four to back him, bruised and startled, into the corner at the end of the corridor. Wide-eyed, he looked down at the gleaming golden fan she held to his throat. "Who are you?" he demanded. "What do you want?" "Who I am is unimportant," Izumi replied, her voice low and even. "I'm looking for an item your mistress took from her... 'guest'. A single jewel, round and blue, on a silver bracer. Whoever handled it would have been warned not to touch the gem itself. Where is it?" "You don't know what Her Grace would do to me," the guard protested. "No," Izumi conceded. Then, looking him straight in the eye, her own brown and cool and unsympathetic, she said flatly, "But I know what I will." This was the sort of bluff that was -supremely- embarrassing if called, but in her training, Izumi had been told: "Think on the lessons of Avatar Kyoshi, open youself to her uncompromising spirit, and no one will ever dare doubt you." It worked this time; the guard visibly wilted, trying to press himself back into the wall and away from the edge of the fan at his neck, and whimpered, "In the drawer of Her Grace's writing desk." Izumi kept the hard, cold Kyoshi glare on him for a second longer; then, to his surprise, she smiled, withdrew the fan, and released the hold her other hand had taken on his breastplate, backing one smooth step away. "Thank you," she said, bowing cordially as she collapsed her fans and returned them to her sleeves. "I apologize for this next part," she went on, "but I'm afraid I can't have you raising an alarum." Then, before he had a chance to wonder what next part, she jabbed him sharply in the center of the chest, just above his breastplate, with the stiffened first two fingers of her right hand. He gasped, his whole body going numb, and sagged to the floor, staring at her with wide eyes, his jaw working silently. "You will recover fully in five minutes," Izumi assured him; then she took the bunch of keys from his belt and entered the Duchess's chambers. Though he lay sprawled in the corner for five minutes, unable to look at anything -but- that door, he didn't see her emerge by it. When - just as she'd promised - the feeling returned to his limbs and he was able to rise shakily and investigate, he found the rooms empty... and their various treasures undisturbed, save for the single object that was gone from Her Grace's writing desk. Later, when telling the story of how he had been overpowered and neutralized by the lone intruder, Guardsman (formerly Captain) K'diirhan would insist that she had been a formally-dressed foreign giant of a woman, more than six feet tall and powerfully built, with boots even larger than his. This was not true, but from his perspective, neither was it a lie. // "Very well, then," said Prince Bogan briskly. "Be on your guards. The orcs of the valley are not known for extending a warm welcome to travelers." Mitsuru Tsuwabuki had read about a number of different peoples called orcs, most of whom had ranged from misunderstood to fairly-well- regarded. The orcs (properly Orsimer) of Nirn, for instance, were a renowned race of craftspersons, famous for the quality of the arms and armor their smiths produced, and sought-after soldiers on their homeworld. The orcs of northern Hyeruul, on the other hand... well, twenty minutes later, as he and his comrades found themselves backed against a crag and being slowly advanced on by a hostile, hungry horde, Tsuwabuki wasn't entirely certain they were fully sapient, much less a proud and noble people with a long and glorious warrior tradition. "There's nothing for it," said the prince, drawing his short ceremonial sword. "We shall have to give them battle. It's the only thing these beasts understand." Tsuwabuki eyed him. "Is that the only weapon you have, your highness?" "Don't judge me, wizard!" the prince snapped. Gesturing to Izumi, who was preparing herself for combat on Tsuwabuki's opposite side, he went on, "Your helpmeet brought a -fan!- So at least we shall have a nice -breeze- whilst the orcs are carving out our gizzards." In spite of herself, Wakaba snorted. "OK, well, he's got backbone, when he's not dealing with pushy old ladies," she conceded. After about an hour of silent regarding the mountains and clouds that pretty much entirely constituted the scenery around them, Nall turned to Umi and said, "So... you're awfully quiet." She glanced at him, then away, her face pensive. "I'm just... thinking about something my grandmother said." Nall raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Before or after she tried to sell you into a loveless marriage for her own political advancement?" he asked, his tone a bit sharp. "Sort of during. And it wasn't strictly for her own advancement. She thinks the survival of House Mr'kreth'yyr itself is at stake. There was a... a -desperation- in her when she talked about it that I'd never seen in her before. She believes Mother eloping with Father doomed the family to extinction." "Right," said Nall. "And that justifies what she did today, I -don't- think." Umi scowled at him. "I would have thought you, of all people, would understand. You're a Draconian noble, you should know how important these things are to some people. I'm not saying I think what Grandmother did was -right,- don't be ridiculous. I was on the verge of starting a contest between us that might well have ended up being to the death when you showed up. It's just that I think I understand why she did it." Nall, nonplussed in the extreme by this strange display of sympathy for the enemy, folded his arms. "I don't -care- why she did it," he declared. "Why? Because it was wrong? Or because it was an intrusion on your territory?" Umi asked pointedly. Nall turned on the rocky bench and gave her a look of startled, offended incredulity. "I'm sorry? Did I hear you right? I come all this way, rescue you from a forced marriage to a complete stranger, and that's the thanks I get?" "Don't push me, Nall!" she blazed, rising and taking a few steps away. Then, turning, she tamped down her temper with a visible effort and said stiffly, "I'm having... -space- issues... at the moment." "Well, fine," said Nall. He stood up himself, walking a pace or two in the other direction, and stood looking out over the mountainous vista with his arms folded. "If that's the way you feel, then as soon as we get out of here, you can have all the space you want." "Maybe I'll take you up on that!" Umi snapped. "Fine!" Nall repeated. "Fine!" Umi agreed. There was a frosty silence. "Nall... " said Umi, her voice quieter, but before Nall could answer, they were suddenly joined on their mountaintop by -another- huge, sinuous white shape. This one was more classically reptilian than Nall's leonine true form, with leathery bat-like wings instead of feathers and scales instead of fur, and its eyes were a piercing pale blue. It swept over their perch from the south, wheeled, came back, and hovered above the peak with vast and lazy wingbeats, glaring down at them. "Oh," said Nall blankly. "That's why this place seemed like a perfect dragon eyrie. Because it is one." the newly arrived dragon boomed, presumably not expecting them to understand Draconic. Nall replied, causing the dragon to draw back slightly in surprise. The blue-eyed dragon settled to the ground a dozen or so yards away, lowering his great horned head to regard them. he mused thoughtfully. "You had better get as far back as you can," Nall murmured to Umi, edging between her and the other dragon. "This is my cousin Naxnehaaz. I forgot that any of our kind still lived on this planet." "If he's your cousin, can't you just talk to him?" Umi wondered. "Couldn't you just talk to your grandmother?" Nall retorted, and she had to admit he had a point. "I'll -try- to talk to him, but I doubt it'll work. While I'm at it, though, you should get as far away from here as you can." "I can't just - " "Listen to me!" Nall said urgently. "Nax is -not- the kind of dragon you're used to. He lives in Midgard because he's an exile. A war criminal. His Name means 'Cruelty, Never Mercy'. Now go!" Then, without giving her time to object again, he turned and strode away, stopping only when he stood within easy earshot of his cousin. he said formally. Nax raised a brow ridge in gleeful - but not, Umi thought, pleasant - recognition. he said, as if savoring the word. Back at the cliff face, Umi was first startled, then pleased to see Wakaba Shinohara, Mitsuru Tsuwabuki, her two fellow Rune Knights, and an oddly-made-up girl she didn't know come around the end of the narrow path leading up from below. She was also a bit taken aback to see that they had Prince B'ghanna'vel with them. All six were rumpled and scuffed, their clothing torn, as if they'd just come from a fairly serious fight. "Countess Uum'y," said the prince, darting toward her. "Thank the Triforce you're - " He pulled up short, his jaw dropping, as he saw Nall facing off with Nax some distance away. "Uh, short version, please?" said Wakaba. "Well, uh," said Umi, wondering where to begin, but she was cut off as Nax raised himself on his haunches and spread his wings, roaring so that everyone within a half-mile or so could hear him: Umi and Fuu, both of whom knew enough Draconic to have understood him, glanced at each other in shock. They knew that Nall, like most dragons, had several names, some of which he used only on very rare occasions. They had heard him called Odahviing only once before, at his investiture as the White Dragon of King Bahamut's court, symbolic paragon of all the dragons of ice and snow. The other title, though, they had never heard pass anyone's lips before - not even then - and in the instant's look they shared, each conveyed to the other that she had understood its meaning. Kulaansebrom. "Prince of the North". Nax went on, settling back onto all fours, he went on mockingly, Nall folded his arms. Nax laughed unpleasantly. He lowered his head and sneered at his cousin from a mere two or three feet away. /* Ramin Djawadi "Go Big or Go Extinct" (feat. Tom Morello) _Pacific Rim: Original Motion Picture Soundtrack_ (2013) */ Nall's face went pale as bone, only his scarlet eyes showing any color. Above, the sky suddenly darkened, clouds thickening and turning thunderhead steel grey. The wind picked up, moaning as it sliced across the peaks of the mountains around them, and snow began to fall. said Nall, and suddenly he was not a young man in unseasonably casual clothes any longer. Not for the first time today, Hikaru felt her heart go out to Prince B'ghanna'vel, just a little, as she saw his reaction to Nall's transformation. He'd come up here -expecting- to fight a dragon, terrified but also determined, in a way that she, remembering her own first brushes with real life-or-death battle, had to respect and admire; but now, instead, he was seeing something that was, in its way, even more terrifying. He stood transfixed, his eyes wide, his sword falling unnoticed from his slack hand, as Nall and Nax clashed furiously amid the howling blizzard the former had unconsciously conjured. Without knowing it, he reached to his side and took the nearest person's hand; that person happened to be Umi, and she held his hand willingly, not as his betrothed or his girlfriend or even someone who particularly knew him, but simply as another Hyelian being, bearing witness to this awesome and terrible clash. Nall had told her once that dragons' Names were always three words, just like their ancient spells, and they always said something fundamental about their owners' natures. He'd laughed it off when she'd asked him what his meant, though, changing the subject to something more fun. Now, watching him go to war against his cruel cousin, she remembered looking it up in her Draconic dictionary after that conversation and mulling over the meanings of the three words she found: Od - snow; Ah - hunter; Viing - wing. "Snow" and "wing" were obvious enough, but she had always wondered about "hunter". She knew Nall was a dragon, and indeed a great and powerful one, especially for his extremely young age. She'd seen him in action during the events since enshrined in Cephirean history books as Princess Emeraude's Fall. Most of the time, though, he was so cheerful, fun-loving, and laid-back that it was hard to account for such a determined, fundamentally violent word to be part of his Name. This, though... the -relentless savagery- of it... showed her that she had been wrong about that. The tools of battle between dragons were teeth and claws, bludgeoning tails, old sorceries, lashing bolts and streams of magical breath; without quarter or any of the little courtesies that were customary even in mortal combat among humanoids. They soared and swooped, dove and slashed at each other in the angry sky above Merciless Peak, all the while pressing home their attacks. It would have been weirdly beautiful, in its way, if it hadn't been so terrifying. Eventually, and much to Naxnehaaz's surprise, Nall got the upper hand. The viciously gusting winds hampered both dragons equally, but Nall with his feathered wings was the more agile, adaptable flier, and ultimately, he was able to position himself above and behind his larger cousin. Then, folding his wings, he stooped like a hawk, slamming into Nax's back from above. The talons of his forepaws bit deep into the elder dragon's back, drawing a shriek of fury and pain that ramped up into outright anguish as Nall lowered his head, opened his jaws, and sank his multitude of razor-sharp teeth into the bulging muscle at the root of Nax's left wing. Howling, his aerodynamics ruined, Nax plowed headlong into the ground not far from the cluster of horrified observers, sending up a great cloud of snow that obscured the sight - but not the sound - of that wing being broken. When it cleared, Nall had shifted his grip to his cousin's neck. Nax's claws scrambled for purchase against the smooth stone of the mountaintop, but there was nothing there for them to get hold of, no leverage to be achieved. In less than a minute, it was over. Seconds after falling limp to the snowy ground, Nax's body began to disintegrate, his flesh dissolving into motes of yellow light that swirled around his bones like dust in a whirlwind. As Nall reared back his bloody head and bellowed his victory to the suddenly clearing sky, the light seemed to condense around him like mist in a cloud chamber, then sink into him. His wounds glowed, closed, and disappeared. The last traces of yellow light limned the edges of his wing feathers, the tips of his talons, before flickering and dying away. Breathing hard, Nall stood over his cousin's bones for a few seconds, beams of sunlight breaking through the clouds all around him; then he shivered, shook himself, and collapsed back into human form, wiping his face with the back of one hand. Without a backward look, he walked away from what remained of Naxnehaaz, toward his stunned friends. For a moment, he stood before Umi, looking thoughtfully and a little sadly into her shocked blue eyes. Then, smiling tiredly, he said, "Your homeworld is terrible, Umi. Let's never come back here again." Umi mustered a wan chuckle, but no words. Nall didn't seem to want any. With a thoughtful expression, he touched the ragged little spot on the lower edge of her right ear, a relic of their first adventure together; then he turned to the prince and smiled. "How old are you, kid? Forty-five?" B'ghanna'vel looked shocked to have been addressed directly by a dragon; he blinked and said, "Uh... f-forty-seven, milord." Nall's smile became a grin. He clouted the young prince on the shoulder in a friendly way, angled a thumb over his own shoulder at the remains of his cousin, and said, "Well, being in on killing a dragon ought to earn you a few points with the rest of the ladies. Umi's got a cousin who's about your age. If you still want to help your great-aunt and her grandmother out... I'd look into that. But do us all a favor and find out if you like each other before you mention it to the old bats, will you? That's all I need on my conscience. As for us?" He made a Jedi-mind-trick gesture, though it was just for show. "We were never here." Then, leaving the young prince staring dumbfoundedly at him, he turned to Wakaba and the others and said, "What do you say, guys? We've still got a wedding to get to." /* The Ventures "Underground Fire" Liberty LST 8059 (1969) */ Eyrie Productions, Unlimited presented UNDOCUMENTED FEATURES FUTURE IMPERFECT - Symphony of the Sword No. 5 - Le Droit du Dragon The Cast (in order of appearance) Uum'y R'yuu-z'ky M'belyyn'da Mr'kreth'yyr the Elder Lan'yehra Hikaru Shidou Nall Silverclaw Fuu Hououji Wakaba Shinohara Mitsuru Tsuwabuki Izumi B'ghanna'vel Tel'vyyra'gath Priest Hei'glynn K'diirhan Naxnehaaz featuring The Castle Mr'kreth'yyr Guards and Servants and The Orcs of Orc Valley written by Benjamin D. Hutchins with Plotting Consultant Philip J. Moyer and Pushy Relatives Specialist Pearson Mui from an original concept by Rob Shannon and with the aid of The EPU Regular Suspects E P U (colour) 2013