Chapter 7: Remembrance

Our trio of heroes have recovered from XVI's assault but in Taplica, Lord Dyterag is plotting his next attack to bring his plan into motion.

David was the last to wake up in the morning. His head still ached, as did the rest of his body, and he sat up on the pile of tall grass he used as a bed for the night. The bandages wrapped around his head were uncomfortable and they itched underneath. He wanted to rip them off and scratch the itch but he was told by Nova to keep them on and not to pick at them. He rubbed his eyes and looked at the sun. He was shocked to see it at the 11:00 position. He looked around the campground and saw Nova sitting cross-legged to his left, looking at him. Carthy was standing behind her.

“Morning, sunshine,” Carthy said, placing her hands on her hips. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay, I guess,” David replied, still groggy from his long rest. He stretched out his arms. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“We wanted to make sure that you got all the rest you needed,” Nova cheerfully stated, pulling out a map from behind her back. She pointed to a black dot to the east side of Magraan, close to the ocean. “We’re going to try and make it to Sanjo in the next few days. Carthy said it’s a commerce town so we’ll be able to restock on the necessities while we’re there.”

“Only a few days, huh?” David scratched the back of his neck. “We’ll get to Taplica in no time, at this rate!”

“Actually,” Carthy interrupted, holding her chin with her right hand. “We’ve still got a long way to go until we get to Taplica.”

“What? How long will it take, then?”

“If we start now and hike for about seven positions each day, we’ll get there in about…five months.”

“Five months? You got to be kidding me!”

“Unless you feel like learning how to fly, I suggest you get prepared for a long hike.”

              David sighed and let himself fall back down, resting his head on the tall grass once again. However, he was quickly lifted to his feet by Carthy, who grabbed his shoulders and picked him up. Nova brushed off the grass that clung to his jacket. She also checked the bandages. They didn’t need to be replaced yet.

“I’ll get the rest of the pack ready,” Nova said, pointing to the open bag leaning against a log. Next to it was a pile of assorted berries and herbs. “Can you make sure that he’ll feel good enough to walk today?”

“Yeah, sure,” Carthy nodded to Nova as the girl scampered to the pack and filled it with her findings. Carthy moved a finger in front of David, his eyes accurately following it. She then held a random amount of fingers up for him to count. He answered all eight correctly, though he was slightly insulted by the finger she chose to hold up when he was asked to count ‘one’. As she was adjusting David’s jacket, Carthy patted his shoulders.

“Alright, you seem fine,” she said, tilting her head to the left to examine the cuts on David’s face. They weren’t bleeding anymore, though scabs had formed over them. “Anything feeling weird?”

“Other than you being nice to me, not really,” David uttered.

“The feeling is mutual.” Carthy adjusted her glove, rubbing her wrist. “Consider it a way of thanking you for yesterday. I…I probably wouldn’t be here right now if you didn’t jump in.”

“It’s no big deal,” David scratched the back of his neck. “We’re in this together, right? We got to look out for each other because--"

“Because that’s what friends do. Right?” Carthy smirked upon saying this, crossing her arms as she looked at David. He grinned.

“Right.” David playfully punched Carthy’s left arm. Instinctively, she glared at him and reeled her right hand back, slugging him across his right arm.

“Hey! What was that for?” David called out, rubbing his now bruised arm.

“Sorry,” Carthy immediately said. “I guess I have a lot to learn with this whole ‘friends’ thing.”

“Just a little bit…”

              Nova trotted back to the pair, the pack slung over her right shoulder. She was grinning ear to ear, having overheard their conversation. She put her left hand out, pointing in between them and into the forest.

“Alright, Team Misfits,” she said. “Let’s move out!”

“’Team Misfits?’” Carthy’s left palm rose to cover her eye as she shook her head.

“Yeah. I thought we could use a team name as well.”

“Okay, I can kind of see the logic there. But why ‘misfits’?”

“It just seemed fitting.” Nova shrugged, giggling.

“I like it!” David puffed his chest out. “Makes us sound more official.”

“Well, the vote’s two-to-one, so…I guess we’re Team Misfits now,” Carthy sounded defeated. “Let’s go…team.”

“That’s what I like to hear!” Nova walked behind Carthy with a spring in her step, David chuckling at the sight. Carthy was also grinning as the three of them continued their journey forward.

              Elsewhere in Magraan, a scientist was walking down the main hall of the Taplican Palace. His blue hair shone in the light coming from the several chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. He was holding a clipboard in his right hand. Attached to it were various types of graphs. His red tie stuck out from over his grey button-up shirt, a tie that shared the same colour as his eyes. He walked up the several flights of stairs to the top floor and into the throne room of the palace, the ceiling echoing each noise that occurred inside the chamber. At the end of the large room was a throne made of valuable metals and expensive cloth, specially selected for the Lord. Sitting upon it was Lord Dyterag himself. Gold shoulder guards held his red cape in place, with a gold cuff around his neck. He wore a lab coat under his shoulder guards and a bright blue shirt. Over his face was a mask that resembled a Sarpide Artificial, with pointed ears and a snout. The left half was white and the right was black, only having one slit for his left eye to examine his surroundings. It was bright blue and fell upon his guest as the doors closed behind him.

“Professor Saphrimond,” the Lord’s voice boomed from across the hall. “What news do you bring me this early in the day?”

“My apologies if I am interrupting you, my Lord,” the scientist bowed and placed his right hand over his heart. “But our scanners have picked up the location of Ms. Ethoros. She and her ragtag group of fighters appear to be headed towards Sanjo. If my calculations are correct, they will arrive at Taplica’s perimeter within a minimum of five months.”

“And you bring this to my attention for what purpose?”

“She has become a much greater threat than we anticipated. We have five months to create a counter-measure and capture her while she travels closer or when she is inside the city. My Lord, this is urgent.”

“She has become a notable adversary, indeed,” Dyterag turned his focus to the clipboard the scientist was holding. 

“Are those the scanners’ readings?”

“No, my Lord,” Saphrimond corrected him. “This is the battle data collected from DACP Unit XVI after his encounter with Ms. Ethoros.”

“I see,” Dyterag rested his chin on his right hand, which donned a long black glove identical to the one on his left. They each had sharp talons for fingers. “And what is the condition of Strathonox? I prefer that you use his true name rather than the unit number, professor”

“Yes, my apologies, my Lord. According to the data and some personal examinations, Strathonox received intense damage from the combined efforts of all three of those rebels. The prototype run was a success in that we now have a control of how strong those fools are. However, the explosion caused by Ms. Ethoros’ Blaze Cutter almost destroyed him. I have been overseeing his repairs alongside General Ebecade. He will be ready for deployment within a few days.”

“It seems as though we will need our best infantry if we are to incapacitate Ms. Ethoros.” Dyterag began to chuckle manically to himself. “She truly does have her father’s spirit when it comes to battle.”

“It appears so,” Saphrimond smirked from the right side of his mouth. Just then, the doors opened once more and a figure entered the chamber. He wore a red helmet that spiked along the top, a blue band across the front for him to see through. He wore an upgraded version of the Taplican officer uniform. This included a large metal chest plate fused into the uniform, a lightweight armour lining the arms. Black gauntlets made of similar metal to the chest plate reflected the light coming from the chandeliers. The grey uniform underneath the armour was in perfect condition. He walked towards the professor and Lord.

“General Ebecade,” Dyterag spoke to the figure. “You were ordered to oversee Strathonox’s repairs, were you not?”

“Yes, my Lord,” Ebecade bowed with his right hand over his heart. “They’re almost complete. We’re just waiting for his circuit board to fully recharge. I came here to tell you this personally…” He focused his gaze onto Saphrimond, fists clenched. “I wasn’t aware that Keith snuck off to share the information.”

“I had other pressing matters that the Lord needed to know about,” Keith returned Ebecade’s glare with his own. 

“Ms. Ethoros is on her way towards the city as we speak. It may take her five months, but we must begin planning a counter attack now.”

“I’ll arrange an ambush in the next few days then,” Ebecade’s distorted voice cut through Keith’s words. “My men will be able to take her down, now that we know what we’re dealing with.”

“Because that worked so well before,” Keith snickered, grimacing at Ebecade. The general reached for the blaster strapped to his back but Dyterag slammed his own battle-axe on the stone steps to the throne, cutting into the rock. The two servants looked at the Lord, quickly putting their differences aside.

“Enough,” Dyterag demanded. “We will plan for an attack once Strathonox is fully operational. Continue to monitor the scanners over the next few days. Once we can predict her movement, we shall bring Ms. Ethoros to Taplica and eliminate her allies. She is to remain alive. Is that clear?”

“Yes, my Lord,” Keith and Ebecade spoke in unison.

“Good. Now return to the Cybernetics Department and finalize Strathonox’s repairs. We must make the necessary preparations for the next attack. You are both dismissed.”

              The general and scientist bowed once more and left through the large doors of the throne room. The doors shut and Dyterag got up from his throne to walk around his chamber. His hands were behind his back as he stared up at the busts of previous Lords lining each of the walls. Dyterag did not have one of his own, as the sculptor refused to make one unless the Lord removed his mask. He laughed upon the sight of Lord Olif’s bust. The small eyes stared forward to the parallel wall and wrinkles were carefully carved into the face. The receding hairline was also made with extra care, along with the thick moustache under his large nose.

“They captured your image perfectly,” Dyterag said as he stared up at the stone. “But they never did carve your greed and tyranny into that rock, did they?”

The Lord moved away from the bust and turned his focus to the chandeliers, the crystals scattering the light all over the room. He reminisced on the thought of his old friend, Professor Jayven von Ethoros. He was working as an engineer in the Cybernetics Department for Lord Olif when he ruled. During the Taplican Raid eighteen years ago, he was still inside the palace and perished in a conflict alongside Lord Olif. Dyterag thought of them both as fools, yet he knew that he wouldn’t be in the position he was without their stubborn actions. He chuckled, walking back to his throne as he remembered more of his fallen companion.

              In the hall outside of the chamber, Professor Saphrimond and General Ebecade were walking to the Cybernetics Department to finalize Strathonox’s repairs. Ebecade kept his hands clenched as he walked beside the professor. Keith was looking through the papers attached to the clipboard.

“Don’t think for a second that you’re in the clear,” Ebecade muttered. “You knew that I was asked to report Unit XVI’s status to the Lord.”

“You are too paranoid,” Keith said, turning to look at the general. “Our goals are similar. We both wish to serve the Lord to the best of our abilities, do we not?”

              Ebecade sneered. His fists clenched tighter as Keith smirked. He approached the general and lowered his voice.

“If we are to do our jobs properly, there must be some form of trust, Ebecade. I suggest you begin to act like a team player. I would hate to see you face the Lord’s wrath.”

              Keith pulled back and walked ahead to their designated department. Ebecade grinded his teeth underneath his helmet and made his way through the large hall. He was too busy cursing the professor under his breath to hear the faint banging coming from the vents above him. An intruder dressed in a blue uniform was crawling through the ventilation with a disk in his pocket. His helmet had a steel plate in the center, with three blue blades protruding out from around the eyes. The white base of the helmet was cracked in various places. He had body armour strapped to his front, with arm-length gauntlets with the letters “TAC” engraved on the left. He was quietly speaking into a communication outlet in his headpiece as he crawled, his kneepads tapping the metal vent with each movement.

“This is V,” the intruder spoke. “Infiltration mission complete, I have secured the new weapon data. I will be returning to base shortly. Over and out.”

23 Ripla, Cycle 1968: 30 years before the Taplican Raid

              A young boy was walking home down the streets of Western Taplica. His hands were in the pockets of his jeans, his eyes fixated on the ground in front of him. The patchy shirt he had on was dirtied further from the mud splotched all over it, his blond hair matted from the fight he got into a few positions ago. Tears were still welling from his blue eyes as he walked through the miserable alleyway. He looked up to see a homeless man sitting on the sidewalk, a grey beard growing from his face. His clothes were torn in several places and one sleeve of his plaid top was pinned shut. He unfortunately didn’t need two sleeves when he only had one arm. The boy stopped and stood there, looking at the man from a safe distance.

              As the man held out a hat praying for some change, people continued to look forward and pay him no mind. The people in their suits and nice clothes ignored him for the most part. Those who did feel generous gave him barely anything, only a few Ormins, with each one being equivalent to one hundredth of a Dertic. The boy’s self-pity began to fade as he felt something tug at his heart. His stomach twisted, seeing the people walking by and not doing much for the man. The boy reached into his pocket and pulled out eight Dertics. It was all the money he would have for the next week for lunches but he could ration what few snacks he would get from home. Nervously, the boy walked towards the man and smiled as he dropped the Dertics into the hat. The man returned his smile until he saw what the boy gave him. He put the hat down and took the Dertics out, holding them in his hand.

“I can’t take these,” the man said softly. “You need them more than me, son.”

“But you don’t have anything,” the boy was confused. “You don’t have a house or a mom and dad to make you dinner. You need the money.”

“That is true, I wish I still had those. But, I don’t want you to waste your money on someone like me.”

“I want you to have them, though.”

“I appreciate that, son.” The man looked into his palm and dropped two of the Dertics into his hat. “How about we split them like this? That way, we both get some.” The man smiled again, dropping the remaining six into the boy’s hand.

“Okay,” the boy grinned. He didn’t feel right leaving yet. He wanted to know more about this man. “Why are you living on the street?”

              The man looked at the boy in shock. He laughed a little and grinned, looking into the boy’s bright wide eyes.

“Let’s just say that being an adult is tough. Sometimes, things don’t work out the way we hope and we lose everything we have.”

“That sounds awful,” the boy looked down at his shoes, which were hand-me-downs from a charity.

“It can be, but that doesn’t mean there’s not a brighter side to things.” He laid his hand on the boy’s right shoulder, who was looking at him once again. “You’ve got a good heart, son. Don’t lose it. I want you to remember me when you’re living in a big house with a lovely family in Central Taplica.”

              The boy nodded, smiling as the man padded his head.

“What’s your name?” The boy asked.

“No one’s asked me that since I’ve been out here,” the man replied, leaning against the brick exterior of the building behind him. “It’s Pheo. What’s yours, son?”

“Jayven,” the boy said back. Pheo extended his hand. Jayven shook it.

“And how old are you, Jayven?”

“Eight, turning nine this Aym.”

“Savour these next few years, son. Make sure to tell your folks about the good deed you did today.”

“I will!” Jayven looked behind him at the clock tower, its hands at the 16:00 position. “I need to get home or my mom will start worrying. Bye, Pheo!”

The boy started to run to the south, keeping his head up. Pheo waved as he watched the young boy go over the horizon. He smirked, putting the change into his pocket and placing the hat on his head. He began to walk into the alleyway to his right, the stream of people continuing to move through the sidewalk. He hoped to see Jayven again and his wish was granted the next day, when the young boy visited after school. They sat on the pavement, sharing the two cookies Jayven saved for them from his lunch.

“So school went well?” Pheo was wiping crumbs out of his beard.

“Yeah,” Jayven said after he finished chewing his first bite. “It was good.”

“Did you have fun with your friends?”

“I don’t have any,” Jayven was finishing his snack and he leaned against the building behind them.

“You don’t? Why’s that?”

“I don’t get along with the other kids. They pick on me.”

“That’s no good then.” Pheo used his hand to stroke his beard, looking up at the buildings in front of him. The clouds covered the sun and left the city under a blanket of little light.

“I guess. I want to be their friend but they won’t let me.”

“You just got to find people who want to be your friend. I’m sure you’ll find them soon.”

“Thank you,” Jayven grinned as his eyes fell upon the empty sleeve of Pheo’s shirt. His smile dropped. “What happened to your arm?”

“Oh, that?” Pheo looked at the sleeve, holding the fabric in his hand. “I don’t want to bore you with the details, but let’s just say that there’s a reason Taplica is so peaceful. And to have that peace, prices had to be paid.”

“Oh…” Jayven leaned in to get a closer look at the sleeve. It was pinned up to cover what was left of his limb. “I hope you get a new arm someday.”

“That’s wishful thinking, but only the high and mighty can afford that. But who knows?” Pheo looked over to the boy, who felt the same good feeling as the day before. “Maybe you’ll change that one day.”

“You think so?”

              Pheo nodded.

“I’m getting good vibes from you, Jayven. I’m sure you’ll do great things when you’re older…but it looks like a storm might hit soon so you ought to return home. Don’t want your folks to worry about you.”

              Jayven nodded, picked up his pack, and started to walk home. A few minutes afterwards, it began to rain. Putting the hat back on his head, Pheo started to walk with the crowd of people. It had been ages since he felt at ease around someone. The young boy who shared his lunch with him, Pheo thought, was going to be the same boy to bring great change to Taplica.  

Author's Note

This is the chapter that introduces the (what I like to call) "time-travel excerpts", where past events are explained so the loose ends of the plot can be answered. These all have a purpose and are indicated by the italicized writing, along with the header which will have (XX Month, XX years before/after the Taplican Raid). Please let me know your thoughts and concerns about this. I will gladly answer them.