Le Jeune Guilavene

Chapter 23:

By morning, Allen and his crew were all tired, but determined to continue. Their beasts, however, had been pushed past their limit. They had to stop at a village and trade their animals for fresh mounts. It was raining heavily when they got there, and despite the miserable riding conditions it created, everyone had been heartened by it. It meant Van and Dilandu could not be too far.
“The clouds are not moving. They must have been charme sto stop over a certain spot,” Dryden said, looking at sky.
“Mm. Yes, but those clouds cover a lot of ground. We still may have some trouble locating them. Has Lady Sora sensed anything?” Allen replied.
Despite the fact that the prince had taken the lead again once morning came, Dryden and he still rode on the same mount. If anyone thought it odd they did not comment. Well, except for Gaddes, but a comment from him was practically mandatory. The fact that the comment involved a subtle innuendo about tea, made it easily overlooked by everyone except Allen who turned a lovely shade of pink.
“If she has, she is not saying. And if she is not saying, then we are going the right direction anyway,” the merchant said confidently.
“Are people like you just born vague and mysterious or do you work at it?”
“It comes from having a speech impediment as a child and not wanting to say anything.”
“You’re talking out of your ass,” the blonde accused.
“Yes, I am,” the brunette laughed. “Does that count as a speech impediment?”
Allen rolled his eyes. When they had exchanged their mounts at the last town, Dryden had managed to get his hands on a cup of tea and had been considerably more congenial than he had been.
They continued dirt road, saying little. The rain had become increasingly heavy the closer they came to the border mountains, and the noise had made it difficult to be heard. Their pace was slower too, with the road too slick with mud to allow them to go at full speed and the path curved about within the thick woods. Their initial confidence of that morning was starting wane as their journey continued on a monotonous pace.
However, about midway through the morning, a distant light shining in the rainy haze caught Allen’s attention. He sped up their pace as much as he dared, and as he got nearer he started to make out the silhouette of a village.
It was a quaint little place, filled with squat, handsome houses and cheerful gardens. Even in the dreary rain it had a pleasant feel to it. Lights glowing from some hanging lanterns and candles placed in the sills of windows gave them a warm and gentle feel.
“I think this is the place,” Allen said, pulling his mount to a halt.
His party all pulled up close to him, Lord Balgus and his slayers eying the town suspiciously.
“Nothing appears to be out of place,” the old demon hunter said, and turned to Lady Sora.
The pale woman remained hidden from the rain under her black hood, a knowing smile the only part of her that could be seen. She said nothing, but Lord Balgus must have read something from her posture that the others did not for his expression became more severe.
“Gaddes will stop at the local tavern and ask about. I am not familiar with this area, so I will see if I can hire us a guide. As for the rest of you, I recommend you find something to eat and get as dry as you can, because once we hit those mountains we are not turning until we find something,” Allen said, and turned to fulfill his task.
A few followed him, Lady Sora and Lord Balgus being somet mot most trailed behind Gaddes to the local tavern as it was close by, a scant few paces, and a good place for a quick pint of local brew. Gaddes tied his mount to a nearby board, the rest doing likewise, and headed towards the door. Before he even opened the tavern door, however, he knew there was going to be some trouble. What sounded like many people talking angrily about something drifted out. The dark haired man hesitated briefly, but looking back at Merle who was shivering underneath her cloak strengthened his resolve. They needed to get warm.
He swung the door opened and walked in with his usual confidence, stunning the occupants inside to silence. Behind him, Merle and the rest of his group stalked in, more suspicious and aloof than their current leader. About fifteen or so locals were already occupying the far end of the tavern nearest the fire, watching the intruders with a mixture of surprise and distrust. Most were men, ranging from their mid-twenties to someone likely in his sixties, but there were two or three women looking more intimidating than their male counterparts.
“I apologize for disturbing you,’ Gaddes began in his most charming manner, ‘but my friends and I were wondering if we might have a bit of your time. And if the own of this establishment is present, some of his drink as well.”
One of the women present, a middle aged woman with pleasant features and large hips stalked closer to them, eying the seven cloaked figures with obvious suspicion. She crossed her arms and looked at him with a severe expression.
“I am the owner of this tavern, and I say you’ll have neither my time nor my ale if you do not explain yourselves,” she stated haughtily.
Despite her authoritative tone, most of the men were already making themselves comfortable at her tables and removing their sopping wet cloaks. Merle, however, kept her cloak on and hood up, coming to stand close behind Gaddes. The tavern owner’s expression softened a bit as she realized they had child with them.
“Certainly, Madame. My name is Gaddes,’ the brunette said, bowing politely to her, ‘My friends and I are in pursuit of a demon and his hostage. Might I ask if anyone here has seen anything suspicious?”
At the mention of the word demon, the villagers quickly broke out into fearful speculation with one another. However, the tavern owner looked even more skeptical than before.
“So you’re demon hunters? What a bunch of nonsense! Y ou all look more like bandits dressed as you are. If you think you’re going to con me out of something you got another thing coming!”
Gaddes just smiled and shrugged.
“So I take it you have seen nothing strange then?” he asked.
“Hmph!” was her reply.
The other tavern occupants, however, seemed to have plenty to say.
“My neighbor and I were robbed!” cried stringy-haired woman.
The former Royal Guardsman turned to her quickly, giving her his attention.
“I heard the lightening starting up this morning,’ she began, ‘so I went outside to bring in the laundry, and my sons’ clothes were missing! Boots, cloaks, everything!”
“What nonsense!’ cried the inn keeper, ‘Why would demons steal clothes?”
“Well, Van certainly needed some clothes when he got kidnapped,” Merle commented, a little blush staining her cheeks.
The robust woman looked accusingly at Gaddes.
“Oh, now you’ve got little girls playing along with your little game? You should be ashamed!” she snapped, pointing an accusing finger at him.
“Huh?” the man and girl sai uni unison.
Behind them the others snickered. They were finding this all very amusing.
“I had food and supplies stolen right out of my house! Three days worth of food, gone! Not a trace of it anywhere!” said another villager, trying for a little attention.
“Will you stop encouraging them?!” shouted the tavern woman, and no one said another word on the matter.
It was too late, however, both Gaddes and Merle were already convinced Van and Dilandu had passed through there. They shared a knowing look and smiled.
“Just forget about it,’ the brunette said pleasantly, ‘We’ll just have a round of drinks and wait for the rest of the crew and then be out of your hair.”
“You mean there’s more of you running about? Hmph! Show me your money first or you’ll have nothing but air to suck on.”
Gaddes smirked and showed her his full purse, as did Merle just to annoy her. The woman huffed and stalked off to fill their order.
“And what will your little friend have then?” she asked sourly, as she started filling mugs.
“Same thing as everybody else,’ said Gaddes, ‘She might be small, but she holds her liquor like the best of them.”
The hybrid child flashed him a big grin, but the look the tavern owner sent him was far less pleasant and he quickly changed her order to hot tea. They took their own private table together near the others, listening with some amusement at the wild speculations of the locals in the far corner of the tavern. Merle sent her companion a mischievous look, before pulling back her hood, her pink hair and feline ears exposed for the first time since they had arrived.
The reaction was instantaneous. The robust woman dropped a mug of beer and stood frozen, staring at the strange creature chatting amicably with the scruffy-looking man. The locals all sprung to their feet and backed away swiftly.
“D-d-demon!” stuttered one demon.
Merle sent the man wicked smirk, causing him to cringe away.
“Demi-demon, actually,’ she corrected, ‘What of it?”
“Now, now, Merle. It’s not polite to tease them so,” Gaddes admonished.
“But if I took them seriously, I would have to be offended. Isn’t that right?”
“I suppose so. Very well, tease away.”
Behind them, their company grinned into their drinks and held back their amused snorts and snickers. Being demon hunter’s assistants gave them ample opportunity to work around demons and even a few demi-demons. One might think this would make them rather callous towards their constant enemy, but they had actually developed a grudging respect and even admiration for their foe that most humans would never be able to understand. Merle’s humorous personality did not seem unusual to them, and her childishness was amusing whether she was human or not. They trusted her too, if only because their leaders trusted her and they trusted their leaders.
“What is the meaning of this? Bringing this creature into my home?!” exclaimed the tavern owner.
The less than teasing glare the hybrid child sent her was enough to shut her up fast. The sudden tenseness and sour expressions of her companions was enough to keep anyone else from commenting.
“I suggest you shut your fat trap,’ Merle said darkly, glowering at her, ‘And bring me my tea.”
Though he did not show it, Gaddes was more than a little surprised by the
hybrid’s personality switch. Despite her distinctly demon features, he had always seen her as just another little girl and never paid much attention to her physical eccentricities. Now however, he was made extremely aware of her elegant black ears laying against her head, the tenseness in her hands that made her talon-like fingernails tap lightly on the table, and that dangerous gleam in her violet eyes. For the first time since he had met her, she looked dangerous to him.
The woman hesitated, frozen where she stood. Gaddes snorted in annoyance.
“Would you hurry it up? We don’t have all day,” he snapped impatiently.
Any courtesy she had had was lost when she had insulted the demi-demon. She looked expectantly towards the other villagers, but they milled about in the corner, avoiding her gaze and pretending not to be indifferent instead of the cowards they were. Irritated and a little frightened, she stiffly set about making a cup of tea, momentarily ignoring the broken glass laying shattered beneath her feet. Her hands shook, making the task more difficult than usual, and the demon child glaring at her back was not helping her any.
The tense atmosphere was suddenly broken by the arrival of the rest of the hunting party. Dryden was the first to burst in, flinging his cloak onto a nearby peg and grinning pleasantly. Of course, the first thing that caught his attention was...
“Tea? Do I smell tea?”
Merle’s grim expression broke out into one of amusement, and she nodded to him. Mentally, Gaddes sighed in relief. If anyone could charm the occupants of the tavern it was Dryden and Allen. Speaking of which...
“You’re a tea junkie, you know that?” Allen’s amused voice said and he stepped out of the rain and hung his cloak beside the merchant’s.
Following close behind him was Balgus, Lady Sora, Miguel, and a person everyone assumed to be their guide into the mountains. At their entrance, an almost tangible feeling of shock seemed to run through the villagers. It was obvious they had recognized some of the more famous members of their party.
“Y-your Exellency!” exclaimed on of the locals.
“Oi, no need to be so formal with me. A simple ‘sir’ will do,” the sword merchant said cheerfully.
Allen rolled his eyes, punched him lightly in the shoulder, and ordered him sit down with the others like a good little boy. Dryden pretended to sulk until he found himself a seat beside Gaddes and Merle. Behind them, thence nce continued to make orders for the newly arrived party (including a cup of tea for Dryden) to the now very flustered tavern owner.
“So, how did it go?” the roguish man asked pleasantly.
“There have been a few cases of theft yesterday. Nothing big, just some clothes and food, but we think it might have been Van and Dilandu,” Merle explained.
“That is good. We must be closing in on them.”
“Is that the guide you hired?” Gaddes asked, looking towards a sturdy young man fidgeting beside the door, looking around dubiously at both locals and strangers alike.
“Yes. That’s Amano. We really lucked out when we found him. Apparently, he is the son of a fur trapper in and around the mountains, and just came down for some supplies. Personally, I don’t think we could have found anyone better. He’s a little shy around people, but he knows these mountains like the back of his hand and he’s a tracker too,” Dryden explained.
Merle sighed in relief.
“Good. I just want to find Van and bring him home safely as quickly as possible,” the demi-demon said.
Dryden’s expression suddenly turned grim.
“What’s the matter with you, Merchant?” Gaddes asked.
“I just realized that we don’t known what to do with Guilavene once we’ve rescued him. We can’t take him back to Palas. I don’t believe he has a home of his own anymore. And we still have to worry about the Strategos getting his hands on the boy. We are in a bit of a predicament.”
“Don’t let it worry you,’ Allen said, arriving with two cups of tea and sitting down beside them, ‘I have a few ideas I think he will agree to.”
“Care to share said ideas with us?” the former soldier asked of his commander.
“Later. Just finish your drinks, we need to go shortly.”
Gaddes leaned into Merle’s ear and whispered, ‘That damn merchant is starting to rub off on the boss. Soon he will be so vague and mysterious, Lady Sora won’t even have a clue what he means.”
“I heard that.”
“Oi.”
Merle just giggled into her hand and shook her head in amusement. Her friends really were a strange lot.

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Van managed to keep pace with Dilandu that morning and afternoon. While he was still tired and sore, he had been given enough food and rest to greatly improve his stamina. Nevertheless, their journey down to the valley was slow moving. The constant down pour made dirt muddy and the rocks slippery, and both had their fair share of slips and spills.
The young hunter had fallen back a few times, wishing Dilandu would slip and knock himself uscioscious so he escape. It never happened, though he came pretty close to doing it himself. After awhile Van gave up hoping on that, realizing even if the pale boy did do that, he was not likely to abandon him in such a condition anyway. It was just another one of those complicated matters he did not want to think about.
So he continued to follow his captor obediently, discreetly looking about for any possibility of escape. His situation kept looking increasingly grim.mattmatter where he ran, Dilandu would easily bee toe to catch him unless he was somehow incapacitated, which Van did not think he was strong enough to do. By midday desperation was beginning to sink in.
They had entered the valley, and Van had the strong feeling that if did not escape before they reached the second mountain he was not going to have the strength to reach civilization if he managed to get away ot. ot. By now, the boy had gotten a good idea on where he was being taken, as well, even though Dilandu refused to speak on the matter.
Zaibach was not a place he ever wanted to see, and death seemed preferable to him than having to live there. It was with this idea in mind, that Van made one of the most dangerous and foolish action of his young life.
As they moved deeper into the valley they came upon a river running through the center. The river was fat and swollen from the rains, rushing swiftly along and carrying bits of debre in its turbid brown waters. Dilandu was more than a little annoyed at the inconvenience it put him under and spent a good while cursing and throwing rocks at it. Van, however, had formed an idea that both terrified and strengthened him.
“Damn fucking bastard, I’ll have Nazuco dry you into vapor!” Dilandu screeched, the last of very long line of curses.
The irate demon let out an angry huff, and turned to his captive who stood by watching him passively. The boy had beeiet iet and submissive all day, which was a bit unnerving. He hoped it meant that the mortal had given up and surrendered himself to Dilandu’s will, but deep down he highly doubted it. Soon though. It would not take Van much longer to submit. There were not many options left to the boy now. Until there were absolutely no options left to him, however, Dilandu planned to keep a close eye on him.
“You bee been awfully quiet,” the demon commented, and began walking upstream.
“I have nothing to say,” the boy replied, and followed him.
“Nothing at all?”
“Nothing.”
“I don’t believe you,” Dilandu accused.
“I don’t care.”
That was better. Van still had it in him to be snarky. Temporarily satisfied, he continued on in silence along the side the river, looking for anyway to cross. It did not take him long to find a strange little make-shift bridge crossing over a narrower section of the bridge. It was just large tree trunk, likely having conveniently fallen there years before from natural causes, but two ropes handing just above the log were meant to be handrails for balance and were obviously not tied there by nature.
“Come on, we better hurry,” Dilandu ordered, as the water began rising steadily closer to the bottom of the bridge.
The demon walked across easily enough, finding it sturdy, and beckoned Van to do the same. The boy hesitated slightly, sending off alarm bells in the back of the albino’s mind, but then he moved forward onto the bridge.
“Hurry up before you get washed away up there,” the demon ordered impatiently.
Instead, Van stopped altogether on the center of the bridge and met Dilandu’s crimson eyes.
“Dilandu, I am going to tell you something that I told Folken a long time ago, and that I believe now applies to you as well,” the young man said evenly.
The pale demon’s alarm grew at Van’s words, causing his body to tense suddenly.
“I will always fight you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Folken tensed momentarily, his senses picking up something familiar. He dipped lower, flying close enough to the gray clouds to find his body quickly saturated with droplets of moisture. The feeling grew stronger. The winged demon smirked to himself beneath his mithril helmet. He soared above the clouds again and doubled back the way he came.
His prey was near by.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dilandu sprang forward, abandoning the sack he had been carrying and attempting snatch up the stubborn youth, but he had already disappeared into the murky water. A moment later, his dark head reappeared, gasping for breath.
“Ah! Damn it’s cold,” Van cursed, before the current dragged him down again.
Dilandu immediately sprung to the shore and gave chase to his rapidly disappearing prisoner. The demon quickly realized the boy’s situation was worse than he had originally thought. For one thing, Van’s arm was broken and completely useless as the boy flailed about. For another, the current kept dragging him under, and when he managed to reach the surface he frequently found himself being slammed into boulders and tree roots. Several times Dilandu thought Van had been knocked unconscious and drowned, but he would eventually resurface gasping and flailing again.
The demon prince followed the drowning boy, trying to match the speed of the raging river as he struggled over boulders, trees, and other debre. There was a moment where he lost Van completely as the river turned sharply away from him, but when he managed to catch up to him again, the boy had finally managed to crawl ashore on the opposite side.
“Van, you fucking idiot!”
The fugitive ignored him in favor of vomiting up the mud and water he had swallowed and collapsing in the grass. He shivered from exhaustion and cold, pain encouraging him to limit his movement to mere pathetic quivering. Rain diluted blood leaked into his eyes from the new gash upon his head, and wiped it away with his one good..er.. unbroken arm.
Finally, he managed to shove himself up into a sitting position and turned back towards Dilandu, but the demon was already gone, no doubt heading back to the bridge so he could come and get him. Groaning, he struggled to his feet and fought to stay upright. Nausea gripped him, and a moment later he vomited up the last of river water and still managed to stay standing.
On shaky legs and he stumbled back towards the way they came, having no real idea where he was or how he was going to get back to the little village at the foot of the mountain. But if Van was anything, it was tenacious. He would keep going until he got there or died trying. In his condition, however, it was likely going to be the later of those possibilities.
Weak and disoriented, the young hunter dragged himself onward, taking what seemed like an eternity to his exhausted body. All the while, the ever present fear of Dilandu tracking him down again haunted him and kept him going.
When he reach the foot of the mountain, he threw off his cloak and over shirt, deeming them too heavy and completely useless in their sopping wet state. Then forced himself up the slope, falling to his knees and crawling his way up more times than not.
By sunset, he had found a e ine in the mountain where it evened out and he collapsed. His entire body hurt, cramped from the cold, hunger, injury, and constant movement. The sun was going down and the temperature was dropping dangerously low for him, still wrapped in his rain and river soaked clothes as he was. And he still had no idea how far he had to go.
Van laid there for a long time, exhausted, but too cold to sleep. Sometimes, he thought he began hallucinating. He thought he heard voices familiar to him, like Folken’s or his mother’s, but they turned out to be nothing more than rain and wind and a tired mind. He did not know how long he laid there in a trance, hearing and feeling nothing but his own heart beat and the soothing thudding it made.
Then the rain stopped.
It was so sudden, it surprised Van out of his stupor better than bucket of ice water would have done at that point. He blinked owlishly for a moment, and then pushed himself to his knees and looked about. Nothing was out of place, but it had stopped raining. He was still cold, hungry, weak, and hurt, but the rain had stopped.
Slowly, he pulled himself to his feet and continued walking, slightly dazed. He had to keep going, was his only thought. The most primitive part of his subconscious snarled it in his mind, defying his body and demanding action. Step by grueling step, he made his way along the plateau of the mountain, only vaguely aware of his surroundings.
It was not until he found himself standing before a very familiar bridge, before he realized where his feet had taken him. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear the fog from his mind. The only thing he accomplished by doing so was make him remember he was deathly afraid of heights.
“Oh give me a break,” he moaned, wanting more than anything to lay down and cry his eyes out.
This just was not fair!
Trembling, now more from fear than cold, he stepped onto the bridge and gripped the left side tightly with his good arm. Nothing happened. He placed on foot in front of another and then another. The bridge swayed slightly beneath him, and he froze, his fist clenching around the rope. The swaying did not stop, and he had to force himself forward anyway. On it went at a snail’s pace, until Van finally reached the center where the swaying was the worse, as was the lovely view of river into which he would plummet should he fall.
“It’s almost over, almost over,” he chanted to himself, trying to force his resistant body onward.
“This is completely pathetic,” sneered a familiar voice.
Van stopped immediately, his heads snapping up to stare wide-eyed at Dilandu. The pale demon was looking very pissed. His crimson eyes were mere slits as he glared at the trembling boy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There!
Folken spun around, circling for a moment to confirm the energy signatures he had felt. Grinning to himself, he pulled Guilavene’s sword from his sheath and dove into the clouds.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“After all you have been through, you are still afraid of a fucking bridge?!” Dilandu snarled, and leapt onto the bridge, causing it shake and rattle wildly beneath.

Van fell to his knees with cry and clinging to the ropes. He squeezed
his eyes shut and wished it away.
“Stop it!” he begged.
“I told you before, Van. I would not put up with this defiance shit!”
The bridge quaked as Dilandu drew closer, shaking it as he went along. The young hunter did not even attempt to flee, too overcome by his own terror to move or even open his eyes.
“If I threw you off this bridge, you wouldn’t be so defiant then, would you?” Dilandu’s teased cruelly, deeply satisfied when he heard Van whimper in response.
Hiding in darkness behind his eyelids, the stubborn mortal felt as if he were dying. Exhaustion was killing his body and fear was killing his spirit. Even if Dilandu did not carry out his taunting threat, he was certain he was going to die anyway. He just could not stand running anymore.
With forced resignation he listened and felt as Dilandu drew steadily closer, and waited for his fate as if it were inevitable. Just as the demon prince seemed to be right next to him, he sensed him leap away swiftly. Before he could question the move or even open his eyes, he felt the bridge collapse beneath his legs.
And then he was falling.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Folken cleared the blinding gray of the clouds and continued his plummeting descent. Almost directly beneath him he could make the faint, tiny figures of Van and Dilandu on a bridge. He found this briefly disturbing, as he remembered his boy’s avid fear of heights and the lengths at which he went to avoid them. He did not hesitate, however. They were both in a perfect position for him to attack.
As he drew closer and closer, he began to realize Van’s situation seemed extremely grim as Dilandu did not look very pleased with him at the moment. This only worked in Folken’s favor as his half-brother’s distraction allowed him to close in without being noticed.
Closer.
Closer.
Almost upon them both, Dilandu suddenly looked up and saw him th Ou Out of pure instinct the demon prince leapt back across the bridge to the safety of cliff’s edge as Folken’s sword came down directly where he had been standing. The elongated sword sliced cleanly through rope and wood, shattering the bridge into little pieces. Van, who had still been clinging blindly to the sides was thrown away.
And he fell.
Straight into the Strategos’ waiting arms.
Folken caught him easily, barely giving him time to fall at all, and then quickly flew higher and away from Dilandu, who lay momentarily dazed. At the upward movement, he felt Van suddenly cling to him tightly, broken arm and all. The boy trembled violently in his arms.
“Van?” he questioned gently, momentarily stopping to hover now that Dilandu was out of sight so he could look at his little one.
The boy cautiously opened his eyes and looked upward into soft crimson eyes. Van was dirty, his face bruised and bloodied, and his eyes shiny with tears. I leave him alone for two days and look what happens? Folken thought to himself as he stared back at the dark child.
Van blinked, clearly unsure of how he should react. Then suddenly stiffened, cautiously turning his head downward towards the ground... that was so far away. The Strategos felt the boy shudder once and then go limp in his arms.
A little confused, the demon shook him gentle, but the young hunter did not
respond. A small smile made its way onto his pale lips as he realized what had happened.
Poor boy, he had fainted.