Beastmaster Zelas-Metallum. Her name echoes the wild forests, snarling wolves howling at the moon in quest for the night's kill. Wild and untamed, sleek and refined, feral or fattened, she stalks the lowlands of beasts. Beastmaster is the definition of predator; patient and silent, not moving, not even twitching until just the right moment -- and very deadly the eventual strike is launched.
As one of the original Mazoku lords, the ring of which is second only to Shaburanigdo, the Demon King, she holds great sway and power over the lesser demons under her command. They know better than to question her, or even to gaze at her when she actually visits them -- the visit a rare event, heralding a horrible future or a blessed boon. She issues the statements; they do not ask questions. For instance, why does she choose to dress in the finest citywear of an elite human woman, rich in taste and luxury, when she isn't stalking her prey in wolf fur or with the talons of a hawk? Those who have asked were told the answer; at least, before their voice boxes were torn out, so that they could never repeat it again.
"So why do you dress like that, anyway?" Xelloss asked.
"It pleases me to keep up with the current fashion trends," Beastmaster explained to her minion, her general and priest in the great Mazoku cause of destruction. She didn't bat an eye. "That way, I can better blend in among the more select prey. Strange that you would ask this now, little Xelloss... may I ask why?"
"Ah," Xelloss said, smiling wide. "That is a secret."
"I could remove your throat so you would never tell again..."
"But am I not good at keeping secrets, mistress?"
He could get away with behaving this way around one of the terrible and fearsome Mazoku lords. They simply had that kind of working relationship.
When she came to him to hear his monthly reports, boring or interesting, she always came in style. Her throne, comprised of the bones and pelts of lesser animals, always had an open space prepared for it in at Xelloss's home away from home; he always had a fresh pot of tea brewing, and once the pleasant smalltalk was out of the way, it was on to business. The business was also pleasant. Despite being soldiers of darkness and creatures of evil, they had a very comfortable sense about them, like a pair of old shoes.
"It has been... how long?" Beastmaster asked, tapping out some ash from her long-filtered cigarette. "How long since I came to you, offering employment in my franchise of the Mazoku?"
"Mmmm... hundreds?" Xelloss said, scratching his chin -- a deliberately dramatic gesture, obligatory if anything. "Beyond that, I'm afraid I couldn't say."
"And not once have you asked about my fashion sense," Beastmaster noted. "Were you afraid of the stories the little things spread of my wrath, trickster?"
"Hmm? Oh, no, not at all," Xelloss said, refilling his mistress's teacup. "I simply figured it was the sort of thing I've always wanted to ask before I leave the fold. And I kept forgetting to ask, since it never really seemed important at the time. You realize what I am implying, yes?"
"I realize," Beastmaster said. "And as I promised you, the only terms of release open to you would be possible, one day. At the very least, I give my prey a single chance at freedom. Yes?"
"Quite fair, quite fair," Xelloss agreed. "It has been a long and enjoyable time in your employ, my mistress. And in a way, I do regret leaving... but a promise is a promise."
The two sat in quiet contemplation, sipping tea, musing on events transpired and to come. The Mazoku lord finally broke the silence.
"I have been a suitable employer, have I not?" she asked of Xelloss. "I kept you busy. If not with official tasks for the great cause, at least with little games to play. Did my recent one not amuse you?"
"Oh, it did, it did," Xelloss said. "I particularly liked your method of delivery. So indirect, so impersonal; rather a lot like the messenger. Tell me, what did you yourself think of Minion? That cutely annoying little tool you gave me to play with?"
"A trifle," Beastmaster said, waving it off, dismissing it. "Simple to make. No challenge at all. The real fun came in your reaction to his orders, in clearing up what was clearly an obstacle blocking your own goals. Tell me, because I am curious, little Xelloss... you had two options. You could have murdered Lina Inverse, after the decade you spent stalking her. But you took the second way out, to kill her and restore her, satisfying my mandate yet achieving your own ends. Why did you choose that?"
"You need to ask?" Xelloss asked, perking the eyebrow of mild surprise.
"No, I don't, but I'd love to hear the answer from your lips."
"A game, then," Xelloss responded, knowing this would perk Beastmaster's interest. "A trail of crumbs. An order from on high to observe an eight year old girl, days after completing a spell I have interest in. A long time suppressing my human side to better serve the Mazoku, a reservoir of unused need. A being of unpredictability, of incident and mayhem, of innocent chaos. A pact made long ago, a contract of employment. A bowl of split banana pea soup."
Leaving it at that, Xelloss leaned back in his chair, to watch his mistresses briefly puzzled expression.
"What does soup have to do with it?" she asked.
"Oh, nothing, really," Xelloss smiled. "Just being silly, as is my wont."
Beastmaster almost chuckled. It was enough of a signal to please the trickster priest, though. "A way of telling without telling, pieces of a puzzle," Beastmaster recognized. "You have never lost your knack for riddles, Xelloss of the Mazoku."
Rising, Xelloss finished the rest of his tea, and set the cup back on the table, never to be lifted again.
"I believe you mean Xelloss of the Humans now, yes?" he said.
The two shared a smile.
"The way back to what you once were will not be pleasant," Beastmaster warned. "You will be vulnerable once more. Strong in magic as you always were, but no longer protected by my power."
"I can afford the price," Xelloss said. "Besides, it takes the edge off your game to cheat for as long as I have. Time to reorient myself to reality, and not rely on a crutch. Farewell, Zelas-chan."
That aroused a chuckle in Beastmaster Zelas-Metallum. Such playful insubordination! She would miss him. The chuckle rising to a laugh, a gesture unused in hundreds of years, she flicked dark power from her wrist, reaching deep into Xelloss's core and tearing him in half.
A true Mazoku would always be a true Mazoku, it was said. But those who were converted from another race and retained a large enough portion of their original being had a chance. The darkness was torn from Xelloss's soul, a sticky mass clinging by hooks of will, shredding and clawing as they were pulled away, leaving behind a tattered but usable human...
And the priest didn't even flinch.
Banishing him back to the world he seemed to love with another turn of the hand, Beastmaster sat in silence in Xelloss's home away from home.
She still smiled. The game wasn't over. She still had a final round to play with her favorite pet, and this time, she would win. The predator was always patient, even if it took hundreds of years to finish the hunt. And if she didn't purge the world of this strange thing Xelloss was so fixated on, she wouldn't be a true Mazoku, would she?
Lina Inverse had many loves in life. There was the love of looting a bad guy of all his incredibly valuable possessions, and the love of learning a really cool new kind of magic, and of course the love of a luxurious inn with soft beds and room service. But after going without dinner AND breakfast, she only had one true burning desire; food.
Yes, there was that whole 'escaping the city guard so that we don't get thrown in prison' thing, but that took a backseat to Lina's need to get some chow. So when they were looking for good hiding places, she instinctively sought out a little hole in the wall diner, dragged her two companions inside, sat them down and had ordered a couple square meals in the time it takes most people to get their shoelaces tied.
Gourry, however, continued to watch the entrances and exits nervously. "This isn't the best place to hide, Lina..."
"Life IS risk, Gourry," Lina said, waving a chicken leg like a teacher's pointer. "We're on a very important mission, and that means we have to go that extra mile into the danger zone, putting life and limb at risk for the greater good! Besides, if I don't get some protein I'll be a mess all day... what're you doing?"
The third companion looked up from her writing. "Um.. I'm just taking notes. Don't mind me."
No proper introductions had been given yet for the girl they had picked up along the way; or rather, bumped into along the way at speeds clocked on an upwards of twenty miles an hour. Swept along like a bath toy in the ocean, she had floated into the mess with ease.
"Who are you, anyway?" Lina asked. "We saw you at the market trying to be a scary old fortune teller, right? I recognize that face. Without the makeup, that is."
"Oh... um," the girl said. "It's a long story, really..."
"If I recall, you were shouting something about 'Bewaring the Forenight of Chaos,'" Lina said. "And something about a gate... wait. How did you know about that??"
"About what?" the girl asked, confused.
"About... Giga's Gate," Lina said, trying to keep her voice down in the semi-crowded establishment. "The spell you were referring to! I accidentally cast it the other night."
"Oh, so THAT'S what I felt!" the girl said, to herself. "I guess it makes sense..."
"I'm confused," Gourry said, not for the first time, and definitely not for the last.
"I think I can explain a bit," the girl said, closing her book and setting it on the table. "But you'll have to trust me. Okay?"
Lina glanced at the title, hastily etched on the cover; 'Lina Inverse And The Chaos Factor'. Weirder and weirder. "Trust later, explanation now," she recommended.
"I'm a storyteller," the girl said. And that was true; she did have a bard's uniform on. "And a story writer. You can call me Miss. It's been my role in things for a long time... but I've been in a slump lately. There just aren't any good epics out there nowadays.. except yours, Lina! I've been writing about you for these last few years, and it's good stuff, some of the best writing I've done. Did you hear 'Lina Inverse and the Journey of a Thousand Reflections'? I finished it a few days after you finished your quest for the Mirror Lores. It's been doing well with audiences!"
"I.. don't think I have," Lina said. But the title did seem familiar...
"I was going to try to tag along this time, get a real first-hand account of what goes on, and maybe write the best Lina Inverse story ever," the bardess said. "But... you got arrested. So I had to do something. Um. I take it you broke out of jail on your own?"
"Easily," Lina commented.
"Oh. Okay, then at least things are going now," Miss said. "Mind if I tag along? I won't get in your way, I promise, I'm just here to chronicle your journey."
"That still doesn't explain the weird bits," Lina said. "How did you know anything about our last outing? I've never seen you before! And you knew about that gate spell, didn't you?"
"Yes. No! No, not really..." the girl said, trying to make up her mind of how to explain it. "How to explain this... it's so much easier to explain things when they're like a story. Can we just call it instinct and let it go at that?"
"No."
"Rats. Okay, then... I've got.. a talent, I guess you could call it," Miss replied, quieter, to keep anybody from hearing. Lina and Gourry leaned across the table, or at least across the food, to hear. "I can feel the shape of stories. That's the best way to explain it. If it's just a sort of outline of a notable story, something happening elsewhere in the world like a boy going on a trip to find his lost cat, I just get sketchy details, but.. your stories, I see a lot more. Not everything, but a LOT more. So after that tale finished, I had this feeling that there was a gate, you see, and unless you went through it, the next story wouldn't happen. And... I felt, in the story, that a soothsayer giving a warning was just the event needed to start it all rolling, you see, and... did it work, by the way?"
"No."
"Oh. But it worked, didn't it? I mean, not IT, but it. In general. Worked out right."
"...yes," Lina admitted. "So. You've got some weird psychic power that lets you spy on people, is that it?"
"Spy? No no no..." Miss defended. "I don't mean any harm, I just.. write and spread tales. Myths and lore. That's all. If I could tag along with you, I could write a really good story!"
Lina nodded, letting that soak in, and sat back to finish off her chicken and think about it.
"I don't get it. Can you explain all of that again?" Gourry asked. "Lina, why are you choking?"
Gagging, Lina coughed a bit to clear her airway, then gave Gourry a severe bonking. "No, we can't explain all of it again!!"
Rubbing his head, Gourry looked a bit sheepish. "How about a summary, then?"
"Okay. Summary. Summary I can swing," Lina said. "She's a magic bard and wants to follow us around on our quest to draw the wingless. Got it now?"
"Oh, okay," Gourry said.
"Excuse me, but... what did you say your quest was?" Miss asked...
"Hmm? Oh, we're drawing the wingless. No, we don't have any idea what that means either," Lina said casually. "I suspect we'll figure it out at some point. The Lord of.... someone said we'd get aid, which of course we haven't gotten yet... hey, are you going to eat all of that salad? Thanks."
Miss sat back in slight terror as Lina took her food. Not because she was hungry, but because she was hearing words not heard from anyone else in quite some time.
"Uh... I think I know what it means," Miss said.
Lina paused. "You do?"
"It's a long story, but.. are you really on a quest from the Lord? The Lord of Nightmares, I mean?"
"We seem to be. Why?"
Miss swallowed hard. "Looks like my hopes of simply sneaking into your party to write a story aren't going to be enough. If what you say is true... I think I'm actually supposed to be your aid."
Pockets are not meant for storing things. Only stupid cattle unable to understand fashion stick objects into their pockets. Elegant ones use other means of storage.
Beastmaster Zelas-Metallum knew this by heart, which is why whenever she wanted something, she pulled it out of a nonspace of her own design rather than lug around a heavy bag or, god forbid, put things in the pockets of her stylish wardrobe. She poked around in nonspace, hunting for the thing she sought, and pulled; an illustrated book appeared in her hands, with a happy medium of flashy special effects and tasteful magic.
She found it vaguely appropriate to be performing her next task inside Xelloss's home. If he was smart, he would have it kinked for some kind of audio/visual link; how she loved to tease the prey! Perhaps he would do another funny thing on learning her plans. Perhaps he already predicted her plans. Either way, it would be enjoyable.
Flipping through the book, she browsed the pictures and vital statistics of each Mazoku under her sphere of influence. She needed one appropriate to the task at hand, just the right tool, just the right irony. Such droll things they were, the lesser Mazoku, with no sense of fun about them...
There. That one.
She stroked the picture with a slender finger, a burning smoke arising from the page as she did. The incantation came freely. "Lord of damp days, self-proclaimed heir to the frustrations of humankind... I summon you, one named Bugger."
The coming was not flashy, nor was it tasteful. It was the magical equivalent of a fart. A weak cloud of smoke, unimpressive and rather pathetic, with a disgusting smell about it. A manlike figure was there, slumped over in an overcoat that probably hadn't been washed since the first Mazoku war, some flies buzzing about his person. The man gave a ragged cough, trying to work up something out of its throat.
"Bloody 'ell, I hate that," the Mazoku who called himself Bugger muttered. He looked around, scratching his head. "Just sitting there minding my own business, and someone comes along and summons me. Soditall, soditall. Who's it now?"
"I," Beastmaster said casually.
"Oh, hell," the man groaned. "You're gonna destroy me, aren't you? Bleeding runny death in the nines. Just the thing to cap off a perfectly miserable day..."
"Contrary. I have a task for you," Zelas-Metallum said. "Well suited to your questionable talents."
"Always 'appy to serve, mistress."
"No you aren't."
"...'course not, but if I say that, I'm fried toast, right?"
"Your task," Beastmaster continued, not confirming nor denying that, "Is simple. There is one named Lina Inverse who is on a quest. You will... inconvenience her. What she plans is a thing that must not be done."
"I ain't no assassin, ma'am," Bugger reminded her. "T'ain't my specialty. Not that I gots anything against dyin', it's a lousy way to go and I'm all for it, but -- "
"Inconvenience her however you please. Dissuade her, distract her away, collapse her will to go on, destroy her, the method doesn't matter," Beastmaster said. "She must not complete her quest. See to it."
"Right. That I can manage, mistress," Bugger said. He patted his pockets searching for something, and pulled out a handful of dirt. "If there's one thing the old bugger's good at it's really bringing down someone's day. I'll get on it right as rain, you'll see."
Nodding simply, Beastmaster sent the Mazoku off to play.
Miss looked more and more unnerved as Lina tried to dig information out of her. It was less like a casual meal and more like an informal interrogation.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Try me."
"I really mean it. It's -- "
"I said try me, didn't I? Let's go. Right here, right now," Lina said.
"I can't explain here!" Miss said. "There's too many people around."
"Then you're not coming with us," Lina said. "For all we know, you could be some kind of Mazoku plant. Or maybe a friend of an old friend of ours who liked to keep secrets. Right, Gourry?"
"Huh?" Gourry asked, having lost track of the conversation minutes ago.
"Just smile and nod your head."
He smiled and nodded his head.
"And Gourry agrees," Lina finished. "Besides, we can't go out on the street until the heat's off. I give it an hour more. Why can't you tell us here in the meantime?"
"It's not a story for everybody," Miss said. "It's a special one. Um.. I don't know much about magic, but could you, like... make everybody deaf? Or.. no, that wouldn't work... I don't know. Do something so only you and Gourry hear it."
Lina had a dinner roll while thinking that one over. "'kay," she agreed. She stood up on her chair, focusing on the few patrons and workers in the diner, and concentrated. White magic, not her specialty (despite having gotten very proficient in it recently) flowed to her fingers. "Enhance Calm..." she cast.
The diners, one by one, yawned and started to drift off to sleep, unaware or at least uninterested in the fact that they were napping in midmorning. Soon, the entire restaurant was out like a light, save the three at Lina's table.
"Wow..." Miss admitted. "Creepy, but... that'll work."
"So, can you tell this big story now?" Lina asked.
"But isn't he.... erm..."
Light snoring floated up from Gourry's open mouth.
"I don't get it... I didn't even cast it on Gourry," Lina said, weirded out. "Long boring stories just have that kind of effect on him I guess. Go ahead, I'd have to summarize for him later anyway."
"I'd hope it won't be boring, but..." Miss trailed off. She cleared her throat. "I'll warn, it's a strange yarn. But maybe it's what you want to hear. One second, I need to prep for a telling session."
Posture shift; just a smidge, enough to not slump as much, to have her head up higher. Hands folded in front of her, not in her lap. And her eyes locked on Lina without feeling like they were locked, just a long stare, a stare which said: I'm talking to you. Right to you.
"My explanation for why I know about your quest is a bit long, so please, bear with me. This story I know starts, literally, at the beginning," Miss started. "There are a lot of stories told about the creation. Every religion has one. The Evilanians think that Shaburanigdo vomited the universe into a congealed heap. The Holy Order of Ceipheed, on the opposing hand, believes that originally the universe was a tiny point of light, which expanded to become Ceipheed the Dragon King, who breathed life into the world with an exhalation of his divine breath. A lot of others believe the more common story, that the Lord of Nightmares crafted the Dragons and the Mazoku, then gave them a world to hold their eternal struggles on. The beasts of the land came next: rabbits, bears, lions, butterflies, lizards, and finally, man.
"Those are all good stories, and to hear their tellers recite them is to hear the truth. But the truth is subjective. This is the way I see the truth; subjective it may be, it is a truth. And very relevant to understanding what the 'wingless' are and how they came to be.
"In the beginning, there was only the Lake of Chaos. It was not a world, it was not a dimension; it simply WAS, beyond any definition we can give it. In the lake lived the Lord of Nightmares. These are names we have given these things now, as a result of events that transpired. In the beginning, these things had no names. I will call them by the ones we are familiar with.
"With me so far?"
Lina nodded slowly. "Go on."
"For reasons never explained by the Lord, the first thing to be created was a magnificent world. It was not this world that you know; it was a world of ideas and notions, running wild, flowing like the waters of Chaos itself. This world was beautiful in itself, but lacked shape, in the way a river running straight with no rocks and no fish lacks substance, save the water.
"To give it shape, the Lord created eight creatures. They had two sets of two appendages, and one nub with senses on it. They had two wings, although what these were used for had yet to be defined; perhaps the Lord put them there for aesthetic reasons. We'll never know, I'm afraid. The Lord spoke onto them that this world was theirs to do with as they wished, provided that they never broke two rules. One, they must not try to make another of what they were; second, they must not try to destroy one of what they were. Then she let them be, going silent.
"To the beings, new and excited with life -- existence, rather -- they were not concerned with these rules, because none of them knew what it meant to create or destroy another. They couldn't break a rule they didn't understand, they rationalized. So, for indescribable time, they frolicked in the world, shaping and reshaping it randomly, chaos being their nature as it was the nature of their Lord.
"Each invented an aspect which defined and named themselves, a trend that one of them started and the rest picked up on. They reveled in this new thing called identity, theorizing that this must be why the Lord put them there. They now could tell each other apart and try to be different from each other.
"One of them, who grew to be the most beautiful of the eight, took his time in naming himself. After awhile, he invented a strange concept. It was very new and exciting, and completely foreign to the others. They didn't mimic it, of course; it was his claim to name, and to take it would to be non-unique.
"Then he attempted to destroy one of the other eight winged ones. He had finally figured out how, working past the ignorance they shared of this thing called 'death'.
"The Lord, enraged as much as it was possible for an emotionless being to be enraged, pulled them from the world, all eight. It was the punishment for breaking the law, the whole group blamed. They fell, until they landed on a new world; one that could not be shaped and reshaped, one that simply WAS what it was, and bound them to horrible, restrictive physics. Their wings were gone; burned up as they entered this world. Eight frightened and lonely beings, nearly powerless in an alien world.
"And THEN the Mazoku and the Dragons arose, and began their eternal war.
"Mind if I have your glass of orange juice there? My throat is dry."
Lina blinked several times. "Wha?... uh, yeah. Go right ahead, Miss."
"Thanks," Miss thanked, taking a big swallow. "Ahh. Much better.
"Anyway, the wingless were confused. Why were these new beings here, and threatening them? One figured it was because, and this is mere speculation, the Lord had decided her first creations had proven themselves unsuitable. Taking the two extremes of them, since they were mostly grey-area things, she developed a race of Good and a race of Evil, and set them to fight, to prove which was the stronger. Or perhaps neither would ever fully win the war, proving that they are equally powerful.
"None of this mattered to the eight wingless, who were caught in the middle of this fray. They knew destruction now, and that they COULD be destroyed. They ran. They hid.
"Many, many years passed, years being a new concept they would have to deal with, and the Mazoku and Dragons were so injured that they had to go into hiding as well. Neither side could be considered the victor. The world was quiet, and very, very dead, damage caused in the war extreme.
"A few of the wingless managed to find each other again, and band together for strength. Eventually life returned to the world. Plants, animals... men. Time passed. Human civilization grew, more bold and vivid than any of the simple ideas the wingless had imagined, and they had to find roles in it that fit their names. A second Mazoku War -- chronicled by humans as the first, incorrectly -- raged, and civilization was knocked down a peg once more. Humans, like the now wingless, were not able to do much about this other than be caught in the crossfire and try to survive long enough to outlast the skirmish.
"Humans survived, being a strangely adaptive and capable species, and rose again, in time. The original eight wingless lived on in this new world, only glimpsing their original home in dreams; perhaps this is why she is called the Lord of Nightmares now. I only know of two of them, the other five lost and unknown, possibly even under new names. And that's where we are today, and specifically, where I am today -- since my name is really pronounced 'Myth', and I am one of the original eight, now wingless. I meant to not be a bother to you and simply write your travels, but I started getting actively involved yesterday, and it looks like I'm in with both feet now... I suppose you might think this tale a flight of fancy, or of insanity. But truth is subjective, and this is a truth, at the very least.
"That's all there is so far to the story. I hope I told it right. Did that explain what you wanted explained, Miss Inverse?" Myth asked, curiously, shifting out of her posture, back to being a meek little bardess.
It took Lina a few moments to realize the telling was over.
"Ah.... good story," she said, not sure what else to say.
"I told you it was a little strange," Myth reminded.
"I know, but..... no, no, wait, that doesn't explain everything," Lina said. "Okay. So the 'wingless' are apparently a race of creatures that were made before all the others were made. Somehow, all eight of them.. of you are still around today. I can accept that; I've heard stranger. But what does the Lord of Nightmares want me to DO, exactly?"
"Draw us," Myth said. "I think she intends for you to draw us together. As in, gather us... like I said, I don't know where many of them are. Apparently we're needed, all of us. Which is strange, I mean, none of us have had any contact with the Lord of Nightmares since that day... truth be told, we're all a bit frightened of her. I am, at any rate."
"Gather eight minor god type folks together," Lina confirmed. "That sounds deceptively easy. It's just a missing persons hunt, right? We're not talking about raiding deathtrap-loaded temples or anything."
"I.. doubt a lot of them will WANT to be found, much less brought back to her," Myth said. "We didn't exactly part on good terms, remember? I know for a fact that two of us -- I don't know what names they have now -- will resist with everything they have. The one who caused the fall, and his partner."
"Oh, resistance is something I'm used to," Lina said, cracking her knuckles. "I can be REAL persuasive..."
Myth got nervous. "I'll go voluntarily, there's no need -- "
"I meant for the others, of course."
"OH! Oh. Heh. Okay."
"Now, the million dollar question... questionS... would be these," Lina said, counting off on her fingers. "One. Why bring you guys back together? What purpose does the Lord of Nightmares have? Why does this relate to the Giga Lores, anyway, why not just have her order you people to go for some family meeting? Why do *I* have to do this? And... umm... what am I leaving out?"
"I know one thing I want to know," Myth said, remembering her recent encounter with Lina, and the backache that still lingered. "Why do YOU have the same wings we used to?"
Lina's cape twitched slightly. "Erm. They're the same? The EXACT same?"
"I recognize the orange spots and gold designwork," Myth said. "It's been a long time, but those are definitely the kind of wings we wingless.. had. How did YOU get them?"
"Ah.. they just sort of showed up one day," Lina said. "Another question to add to the stack. Worrying, but... you know... this actually is a better start than I usually get in this kind of thing."
"Really?" Myth asked.
"Oh, definitely!" Lina said, smiling. "I mean, usually I'm running for my life or only have half the facts I need, or I have no idea what my next step should be and so on."
"But... you are running for your life, you only have half the facts you need, and you don't have any idea what your next step should be," Myth said, confused.
"Ah, not true!" Lina corrected. "My next step is to kick Gourry under the table to get him to wake up..."
Gourry jerked awake. "Six! Square root of two! Hansburg!... uh. What's going on?"
"Second step is to try to explain this to him," Lina continued. "And then... we're going back to the palace. Or rather, YOU are. You're in with both feet, remember? Time to pull weight as part of Lina Inverse's team!"
"Uh..." Myth said, now very unsure of the situation. "I'm just a writer, really, even if I have.. an unusual past. Just because I'm one of the wingless doesn't mean I'm a force to be reckoned with. I don't even know magic."
"You don't have to," Lina said. "You just need to fit into a maid's uniform..."
Sneaking back into Sailoon's city core was no easy task.
Already, wanted posters for Lina and Gourry were put up. Lina was mildly relieved to see 'Wanted Alive' on it, rather than another word which started with the letter D, but the efficiency of Sailoon's justice patrol was still unnerving.
"I think that's a good sign," Gourry said. "It means she's probably very worried about us and wants to help us out."
"Right, Gourry. And maybe she'll invite us over for tea while she's at it," Lina grumbled.
"Uh... Miss Lina?" Myth said, squinting slightly. "I can't see very good... can I have my glasses back?"
"They're part of my disguise," Lina said. "See, people don't look THAT hard at you. They just check the color of your costume, what sort of hairstyle you have, and maybe any ornaments. If you change those three things around, you'll easily pass as someone else in a crowd! You don't have to go so far as buying a cheesy makeup kit and a cloak, you know."
"But aren't I wearing her southslayer's cloak?" Gourry asked, muffled inside the hood of the cheap garment.
"Exactly!" Lina said, without missing a beat. "You've got her old costume to cover all your features. I've got her bard's outfit and hairdo and glasses. Myth is wearing my outfit, with her hair down..."
"Doesn't that just mean I'll get arrested instead of you?" Myth asked nervously.
"Details, details," Lina said. "We'll be getting you into a maid's uniform in a little bit, anyway, once we find a costume shop. Then you sneak into the palace, go raid out rooms to get our swords, gear, and my book..s. Meanwhile, Gourry and I will buy provisions for the trip, using the money you brought to fund our party -- "
" -- but that's my money -- "
"It's BRILLIANT!" Lina proclaimed, ignoring any protest. "We'll be out of Sailoon in under an hour... what are you doing?"
Myth didn't look up from the small book she was writing in. "Notes. Even if I have to participate, I have GOT to get this story down. It's so exciting! And dangerous! And I'm a little scared! But it's exciting. It'll make a great myth."
Curious, Lina peeked into the book and read aloud. "'And so the noble sorceress came up with a brilliant stratagem of deceit and cunning...' Kinda flowery, isn't it?"
"What's a stratasphere?" Gourry asked.
"It has to have a little.. embellishment," Myth explained. "That's what makes it even MORE exciting."
"I had some embellishment once," Gourry said, grinning. "It was really great with some strawberry jam and plum pudding!"
"Um," Myth said, "That's not what it -- "
"Let it slide," Lina suggested, spotting a costume shop across the street. "Trust me. It's a lot easier that way."
Twenty minutes later, Myth was busy doing something she had never done before in her life. She was sneaking into the palace of Sailoon through the servant's entrance while wearing a skimpy maid costume designed for Fruit Lantern's Eve. Admittedly, she hadn't done it before because it was a very specific thing to be doing, but that didn't make it any easier.
This was crazy. This was crazy. First of all, she was directly involved in the story. She NEVER was that before. Even when she did tag along with a hero, she'd write herself out by staying out of the action, by keeping to the sidelines when the hero wrestled the ogre or tangled wits with the troll or whatever. But Lina... Lina was like a great big steamroller of a story. If you didn't run ahead of her fast enough, you'd get flattened.
So now, here she was, in a very unflattering outfit (but she still had her book, since she'd sooner part with a leg than let it out of her sight) and doing something quite illegal and possibly attention getting. And what's worse, she'd have to write herself as a CHARACTER now! What would she write? She didn't want to seem too egotistical and make herself the center of the story, that was Lina's role, but... it was all so perplexing.
Maybe this would be it, she figured. Lina just wants me to go fetch their stuff. It's a simple job, and once done, I can squat comfortably in the margins for the rest of the trip. Maybe I could write in a sidekick for this particular role and kill him off dramatically afterwards. No, wait, that's not comedic...
She was so busy thinking about coherent plot and pacing of Drama that she bumped head on into the seamstress.
Since the seamstress had more of what would scientifically be defined as 'mass', Myth bounced off her like a rubber ball, landing on her tush.
"Watch it there, missy," the ample woman said, lending Myth a hand to get back up. "Need to keep track of where you're going in this place. You're new here, aren't you?"
"Yes," Myth said truthfully.
"It's the costume," the seamstress smiled. "I can tell."
Myth didn't know how Sailoon's inner palace worked. Maybe the headsman was always a simple five second jaunt away from every hall. Times like these she wished the wingless were immune from death, rather than just being immune from aging...
"Honestly, gel, you need some respect for yourself," the seamstress said. "I know the young ladies like to dress all... that, to try and impress their bosses, but what sort of a promotion is that? Not a proper one, I can say."
"I.. oh! Oh. Yeah, you're right!" Myth said, having a moment of crystal realization: Acting wasn't just saying dramatic lines, like her failed attempt at fortune telling. It was a lot like writing as you go. "I don't honestly know why I listened to the others and tried this... isn't this the most hideous frock you've ever seen?"
"Eh, I've seen worse," the seamstress said, believing Myth's false sincerity. (Although sincerely, she DID hate the dress, so it worked in double favor.)
"Do you know where I could get a more... reasonable outfit?" Myth asked. "I'm really low on money, this was pretty expensive... foolish me for trying it..."
"Now now, no need to get yer knickers in an uproar," the seamstress said. "I've got a few from my early days. Would probably suit you just fine. Come on, then."
Myth nodded, tagging along with the more experienced house helper. But she walked behind her, so she could quietly write down exactly what was said. This was great stuff!
Meanwhile, in another part of scenic Sailoon City, Lina in her new bard's costume was approaching the gates of hell.
Today was the last day of the Annual Sailoon Magician's Market, and EVERYTHING MUST GO! Wands, staves, scrolls, amulets, capes, swords, cursed dolls, enchantments and services galore are yours to be had for a LOW LOW PRICE! OUR PRICES ARE SO LOW, IT'S INSAAAAANEE!!!!!
And so was the crowd. Because the third day of the market was the busiest, those last minute purchases involving a lot of haggling and elbow-fighting to get at the choice items before they ran out. Still, it was the best option they had for getting some equipment.
"Gourry, here's half... ah... a third... here's one eighth of the money," Lina said, counting out a few coins and passing them over to the becloaked swordsman. "Only get things that you think we'll need for a road trip. Got it?"
"I got it. You can count on me, Lina!" Gourry said. Then he was distracted by a bright shiny object. "Oooh, armor polish!" Off into the fray he went.
Lina gave a sigh of despair, and also tried to work her way into the crowd. It wasn't easy; she was small, female, and couldn't see over everybody's heads. Her usual method of crowd control, a well placed Dill Brand, would get her kicked out of here. So instead, she resorted to dirty tactics. Tickling.
Leaving a trail of confused, giggling sorcerers in her wake, she scooted from table to table, checking out the goods available. The situation as she saw it was this; she had a group of semi-deity like people she had no known location for who probably wouldn't want to go with her, and had unusual power to lob around.
At the first stand, she bought a general-purpose enchanted divining rod. A simple split-Y staff, the instructions claimed it could find anything you might desire. Simply issue it the verbal command from this simple set of functions, and fame, money and power could be yours!
Lina doubted that, but it was cheap, so into the shopping bag it went.
That would take care of finding them. Hopefully. Next would be containing them for travel and transport, and she knew just the thing.
The stand was off to the side, uninteresting to most because it only sold a few specific kinds of items. The proprietor, a gnarly looking old guy, eyed Lina with his only ocular organ that wasn't made of glass, and puffed on a long pipe.
"The ancient mystic powers greet you, little one," he said. "How may I help you unlock the secrets of the universe today for twenty gold or less?"
"You had a rack of.. little jelly jars out here yesterday," Lina said, making a sphere shape with her hands. "Do you have any left?"
"Ah, you seek the mystic Man-Trap of Fa Chu," the proprietor said, lifting a glass jar from a nearby box. "Very ancient and powerful magic. Unscrew the lid and press the open mouth of the jar to any person for five seconds, and it will contain and freeze them for easy transportation and/or imprisonment. Unscrew the lid after sealing someone in to release them. A steal at only five gold per. The gods truly smile on such bargains -- "
"Yeah, but what can they contain?"
"Pardon?"
"Could you get... hmm," Lina said. "Let's say; could you make a Mazoku fit in there?"
"It stores any lifeform," the man said. "Very mystical ancient powers. The wise ones of dynasties past were men of energy and light. They formed their tools well. In the Shao Lynn reign -- "
"I'll take eight.... no, seven of them," Lina said.
Money was exchanged. A small bag of little jars was now in Lina's possession. She thanked him and turned to go, when she noticed something on the shelf.
"Hey, how much for that monkey's paw?" she asked.
"You do not want that. It has a terrrible curse on it. It grants wishes of human desire, yet -- "
"Oh, curse. Forget it, then," Lina said, avoiding a pitfall that had snagged people many, many times before who hadn't heard that particular folklore.
Lina checked the money she had left, and it was certainly enough for another large item. The question is, what would it be?
Not only did the head seamstress give Myth a more suitable set of clothes (these could come in handy later, she figured) but she also got a master key to the guest wing. Myth lied and said that she had orders to go dust the rooms there.
After putting up this act for awhile now, a pang of guilt was starting to hit Myth. She was lying. True, all fiction is a lie of some degree, and truth is subjective, but... SHE was lying. The difference between a brilliant stratagem of deceit and cunning and fibbing like a dog is that the hero does one and an average person does the other.
She wasn't the hero, right? She was WITH the hero, but she WASN'T the hero. The way she had theorized, long long ago, villains had goons who had minions and sometimes employed thugs. Heroes had companions and sometimes sidekicks who had honorable friends. Was she a companion or a sidekick? It was the difference between a dramatic and a comedic role, and a very important distinction.
Of course, if she screwed up this mission, she definitely was just a sidekick. Determined to be a companion, she turned the master key in the lock on Lina's room, and looted the place.
Mental checklist. She ran down it, item by item, bagging anything she knew about into a sheet taken off Lina's bed. The sword with a butterfly handle was hard to fit in, but it worked.
She had to use every muscle she had, which wasn't saying much, to pry the loose brick away and grab the Giga Lores. Curious, she leafed through them, like she would any good book; all blank pages. Strange.
Gourry's room was easier. Grab the Sword of Light, get his clothes, that's it.
Confident and pleased with herself, Myth swung the bag over one shoulder, and walked out the door only to have the gigantic sack get stuck in the doorframe.
Maybe she should have planned how to get all this junk out of the castle without being noticed.
Lina held her new possession with delicate hands, as one might handle the true Clair Bible.
Never before had she encountered such genius. The very idea of this thing was pleasing to the core. How useful! How powerful! How innovative! Minds like that deserved to have ivory busts carved of them and placed in a hall of.. of... very important people, that's for sure.
Confidence and satisfaction in a small, thin, rectangular wafer.
Gourry spotted Lina across a rare patch of empty space in the market, and hauled a medium sized package with him. "Lina, look what I got!"
"Oh?" Lina asked. "What's that?"
"Rations!" Gourry said proudly. "They're so compact. They're called Meals-Ready-To-Eat! It's an entire meal in a small package, utensils and all, with side dishes... look, they've got Could Be Chicken, Possibly Potatoes and even Sort of Steaks! We'll never have to worry about going hungry now."
Lina blinked a few times. Then giggles. Then flat out laughed.
"Ah, Gourry, I've already taken care of that... BEHOLD!!" she said, holding the card up in front of Gourry's eyes. "A DINER'S CLUB CARD! Prepaid with the rest of my money. With this, you can purchase food at thousands of convenient locations, and never have to haggle about price, or about tips. One who possesses the card has the power to obtain many fine gourmet meals from cities far and wide! We're set for the entire trip, Gourry!"
"Wow," Gourry said. "It's a pity you got that, what with my Meals Ready To Eat. But that's okay, maybe we can use it when we run out of these."
"A compromise. You eat.. whatever that stuff is, and I'll feast on succulent meats and soups in warm, insulated restaurants," Lina said. "Deal?"
"Uh, okay. How much money do we have left?"
"None," Lina said.
"And.. how much money did you have in the room?"
"Almost none."
"So we're broke now?"
"We're not broke. We have the POWER OF CONVENIENT EATING!" Lina reminded Gourry helpfully.
"Oh. So where's Myth?" he asked. "Aren't we going to meet her here at the market gates?"
"I'm sure she'll be back soon," Lina said. "It wasn't that hard of a job, after all."
Clunk. Clunk. Clunk.
Myth waddled. That was the best she could manage, given the circumstances. Whenever someone would pass by, she'd stop, in case they heard the sound --
A passing page boy spotted her. "Hello! When are you expecting?"
"Huh?" Myth asked. She looked down at her enlarged belly. "Oh! The happy day could be any day now! How do you like the name.. um... Loot?"
"Odd name," the boy said. "But congratulations anyway."
He excused himself, and dashed off.
Carrying a bundle of stuff including two swords under your dress wasn't easy. And you couldn't move real fast. And it made a lot of noise. But it WAS working, besides those factors. Myth clunked along carefully, only a few hallways and a staircase away from the servant's entrance...
Voices drifted over from a nearby meeting room. The temptation to be a fly on the wall was irresistible for her. After all, that was her usual role, the way she obtained the stories that were part of her Name... besides, she wasn't THAT late. She cupped an ear to the door.
"...just saying that maybe they're feeling a bit pressured," a boy said. "Amelia, you put up wanted posters all over."
"Yeah, but Daaaayvid! That was so if anybody finds them, they can tell us," Amelia said. "Lina needs help! She's talking nonsense and looked so feral in there, I thought she would eat Gourry! I don't want her to run away scared."
"She's going to, if you scare her. Posters are scary. Um. I mean, look -- if I found a poster of me saying WANTED, I'd feel scared. Right? That makes sense."
"But what else can I do?"
"I'm just an engineer, not a problem solv... oh, wait. I am. Hmm. Okay... she might still be in the city. Her stuff's here. Have it collected and taken to a good place, then..."
"Haai?"
"Somehow, get a message to her that she won't be hurt and stuff. Then maybe she'll come in. Otherwise, we'll have to go after her, if she's really that bad off..."
"Gourry said she thought she was on a mission from the Lord of Nightmares... I mean, that doesn't sound reasonable, right?"
"The what? I thought the Ell Oh Enn was just a myth?"
One particular Myth was hightailing it as fast as she could clunk to the stairs. That was more than enough scary forewarning for her; it was time to get out of town before anybody noticed all this stuff was missing.
Arguements are endless loops. The Dragons do not argue. They discuss. The difference is that one goes on and on with no resolution, while the other comes to a decision. Beings of light and goodness, they believe they understand the meaning of compromise and balance.
They had been arguing for the better part of a day now.
A Council of Dragons had been called to discuss the issue of what to do about recent developments. It was not THE Council, simply a gathering -- a spontaneous gathering of those felt most appropriate. For this meeting, they chose to meet bearing the same appearance, each a mirror of the other; androgynous persons in white robes, with the symbols of the Dragon legacy along the sleeves. This way, identity was masked into a group whole, and ideas could be exchanged freely without identity compromising the purity of thought.
Despite this, almost instantly the group was divided into two factions. One suggested immediate action to terminate the happenings, the other recommended observance of the event to determine future activity for or against it.
"The drawing of the wingless may prove to create powerful allies for the cause of good," a Dragon said.
"The drawing may forge powerful enemies as well," an opposing faction's Dragon countered.
"They are only eight, and not all know magic," another Dragon noted.
"They have Talents, which can be more unpredictable than magic. Chaos can work against the light."
"Chaos can work for the light. Chaos is the modus of the Lord of Nightmares above all."
"They are humanlike, and humans are capable of great light and dark. But we do not fear humans."
"We do not fear humans because the ones that are are allied with us in ideology are companions, and the ones that are twisted by the dark can be destroyed or reformed if required, for the betterment of all humans. Thus, they are a safe ally. Humans do not have Talents, whereas the wingless do. Thus, they can be a strong threat. They must not gather."
It was a strong point. A very blunt one, but identity and feeling were removed earlier to ensure a solid discussion. The others mostly nodded in agreement.
"To interfere may mean interfering with the Lord of Nightmares, a thing which should not be done," another said.
"We have no proof that the Lord is involved."
"We have no proof that she is not involved. If we act hastily, we accept great risk."
"If we do not ask, the risk may be greater."
Finally, a wise head prevailed. Which one couldn't be said, as a result of the masks. "This is extending. We are going nowhere. Compromise and send an emissary to observe, and pass judgment if Lina Inverse's endeavor must be terminated or assisted. Trust one to make the right decision. Are all agreed on this measure?"
"Yes." "Yes." "Yes." "Yes." "Yes." "Yes." "Yes." "Yes." "Yes."
"Then it is settled. Who will go?"
"Filia has experience with this group."
"Filia has other obligations."
"Aqua also has assisted them in the past."
"She is too important for what could be a minor task, and would have bias."
"If I may recommend someone," the one who had pointed out an argument state earlier said, "There is an aspiring one named Angela. She has taken the guise of negotiator several times in human affairs to arbitrate a solution that is best for human and Dragon alike. She would be unbiased and wise in these matters."
"I can confirm much of this," another Dragon said. "My experiences with her prove her to be a gentle speaker and level headed. All deals made with her have benefited the Dragons. She has shown no unstable elements. She could carry our cause with success."
"Nomination is seconded," the first said. "All others in favor?"
"Yes." "Yes." "Yes." "Yes." "Yes." "Yes." "No." "Yes."
"No?" the first of the Dragons asked.
The naysayer, who had actually been very quiet over the course of the meeting, did something not to be done and stepped forward. "No."
"I wish to know your reasons," the Dragon asked.
The naysayer raised her head, smiling from a truly human face. "Trust," she spoke. "I don't."
"Nobody informed me that the Knight of Ceipheed would attend this council," the Dragon said, taken aback by this unmasking. "What reason is there for this thing?"
"Human affairs," the Knight said, still smiling.
"And who would you nominate, then, Luna?" the Dragon asked. "If you have objections to Angela."
"Myself," the Knight said.
"Bias. Lower rank. Conflict of interest," the Dragon recited. "You are unsuitable. She IS your sister, and you are human, even if you have an honored place in our ranks, a representative for your species among ours. Does anyone disagree with these facts?"
The other Dragons said nothing.
"Luna Inverse, will you change your vote, or name another option?" the Dragon asked.
Luna, the only Human present, considered this for a long, long time. Perhaps she was thinking the whole time; behind the smile, she could have decided moments ago and simply wanted her opponent to sweat a bit.
"Angela'll do," she said simply, plainly, not inflecting how she felt about it.
"Then all are in agreeance, and she will go," the Dragon said. "It is decided. The Council is over."
One by one, the Dragons vanished, leaving only the more vocal one, who left moments later, teleporting to the base of the mountain retreat they had chosen. She quickly removed her appalling disguise, fluffing out her beautiful golden tresses and her feathery wings. Much better.
Now, to go observe this Lina matter, as she had nominated herself to do. She was the best candidate for the job, after all; Angela ALWAYS looked after the interests of her kind.
Halfway across the world, a man slumped his way through the countryside, leaning heavily on a ruby-tipped staff to keep himself upright.
Xelloss was quite used to feeling pain. A very normal brain function, defined in most living things as an array of signals designed to tell when the body had been damaged. As a Mazoku, he could simply think 'Hmm, I'm in pain' and smile it off. He had forgotten how difficult that was for a human.
He limped badly, his entire body a wave of fire and agony from having his Mazoku essence ripped away. Most people would buckle under pain like that, unable to move for weeks. He decided to look at his crippled state as good fortune, since here he was, up and about, even if speed was an issue. Things were progressing nicely.
Perhaps it was just his imagination, but he felt that he was able to.. sense things better, now. The smell of a nearby flower, the sound of the forest animals, the taste of fresh, clean air. To be human, to have a limited amount of time to do things in life, amplified everything else; a theory long held by the Dragons. Quite ironic, that.
And still...
Perhaps he had not made the right decision with this action. This was a bold move, to leave the comforting and accepting nest he had made for himself with the Mazoku, who applauded his efforts and celebrated his successes for their shoddy little causes and pathetic infighting. As absurd as it may be, he did enjoy his work, on some level. Grew to enjoy it, even, in sweet rebellion. The plans inside plans, the creative application of orders, the backstabbing, the battles... it was a living, more or less. Once you're in the family, you're in for eternity; it was unthinkable to LEAVE the Mazoku.
Perhaps he shouldn't have promised himself to take care of this particular bit of unfinished business. His role in it technically ended when he came under the wing of Zelas-Metallum. Why involve himself again? It would make itself done with or without him. He was likely to be extraneous, even if he could help to some small degree.
Perhaps the deciding factor was not some silly sense of obligation, or of past mistakes he wanted to have redeemed. As much as he told himself those were his reasons, he knew it was a load of monkey snot. They may have been valid reasons long ago, but now they were simply pleasant bonuses. He knew why he had himself voluntarily cast out of the darkness, dumped into a situation that was above his head for the first time in centuries, and opened himself to all sorts of risk.
Perhaps Xelloss hoped she'd appreciate what he was doing for her, but he didn't figure it was likely.
So instead, he limped along, working out the plans in his head of how to handle the situation. He would have to track down Lina again, obviously; an easy thing to do, once he was up to speed and able to access his magic. Once he explained the situation -- no real need to keep secrets now, after all -- she could be pleased to have his help, and he could aid her, side by side. Perhaps see his son along the way...
"Hail, stranger!"
Xelloss paused in his pained walk, hearing the voice behind him. He turned to look, keeping a nice smile on. Just a simple traveler, like himself, dressed for the road.
"Hello there, stranger," he responded. "Lovely weather we're having today, isn't it?"
"Showers ahead, I'd suspect," the man said. "From what parts do you hail?"
"Nowhere in particular," Xelloss said.
"Oh? I've been nowhere," the man said, approaching Xelloss, step by step. "It's a boring place. I've been everywhere, but it was too unorganized. I've been somewhere as well, which is a nice place to visit, and each time you go there, it's somewhere different. I don't like that either. I'd say you've had your fair share of such travels, haven't you, trickster priest?"
"Pardon? Why, I am but a humble -- "
A minute shift of time, located right inside his chest threw Xelloss's heart off by a beat. He collapsed to his knees, having his first heart attack, quite shocked. It was an interesting experience, but had one drawback; he couldn't move.
The other man knelt down. "You don't know how happy I am to see you like this, so I can finally punish you for that stunt you pulled one month, two days, seven hours fifty nine minutes and twenty one seconds ago. Did you really think I wouldn't notice you screwing up space and time like that, you arrogant bastard?"
Xelloss wasn't sure what to say. He was probably going to die. He didn't really want to die, not after starting such important plans, but what was he going to say -- "Please, Paradox, don't kill me?" It was trite.
"Oh, don't worry," the wingless man smiled. "We've got plans for you, maker of plans. You'll see, in time."
Two bored people sat outside the gates of the market, squatting by the curb and trying to pass the time.
"I'm going to the fair, and I'm bringing an apple, a battered Amelia plush doll, a carrot, and..." Lina said, thinking. "A dead antelope."
"Ewww," Gourry said, in distaste. "Okay. Ummmm.... I'm going to the fair, and I'm bringing an apple, a battered Amelia plush doll, a carrot, a dead antelope and.... eggs, one dozen?"
"It has to start with an 'E' to work, remember? That starts with an 'O'."
"I thought Eggs started with an 'E'?"
"You MEANT 'one dozen eggs'. That's an 'O'. Try again."
This threw Gourry's memory off track. "Uhh. I'm... going to the fair, and I'm bringing an apple, a battered Amelia doll, and... a cat? A carrot, and a dead... deaaaad... anteater."
"Antelope!" Lina groaned. "I win again. Ne, Gourry, this game's no fun unless you can remember stuff for more than a minute!"
"We could always play Bonkers," Gourry suggested.
"Never heard of it."
"It's a game from my home country of Testabourne. See, you get these boys in a circle, and you take turns issuing challenges. And when you challenge someone, you run right at 'em and WHAM! bonk your heads together. The only person left standing wins!"
Lina sat in dumb shock for a bit.
"You know, this explains a lot," she mused.
Before they could get down to a serious game of Bonkers, Myth arrived.
She was considerably worse for wear. It's easy to spot someone who could use more exercise; they're usually flat out exhausted and unable to form complete sentences after running half a mile from the palace while wearing heavy wool and carrying a load of random goods on their back. Myth could use a few years of exercise.
"Ameila....." Myth wheezed. "Planning... find... search for... got stuff... gonna..."
"Is this a game too?" Gourry asked.
"Yes, it's called 'Time to Leave,'" Lina said, taking the bag mercifully from Myth's shoulders and unpacking their goods. "Let's book. Myth, you did good work! Thanks."
"Don't... mention... daaaah..."
"So, where do we go next?... oh. One second. Ahem... Dicleary!" Lina cast, twisting a spell used for clearing exhaustion, poisons and other minor body ailments out of her hands and into the girl.
"Whoa," Myth exclaimed, feeling a couple strong jolts of coffee wetwired right to her spinal column.
"Next stop?" Lina repeated.
"Ah... south," Myth said. "I know two other wingless, and one of them has a fixed address. We can find her there."
"Great!" Lina said. "See, Gourry? I don't think this quest will be very hard at all. Smooth sailing from now on!"
And so, the group set out, unaware of the Mazoku, Dragons and Other Strange Things already gathering on their tail.