//------------------------------// // 16 - Antagonism // Story: Twilight Over Thanalan // by tom117z //------------------------------// Meanwhile, in the foothills around O'Ghomoro… Though he would never say it to her face, Nero tol Scaeva was rather impressed with Y’sanna’s prowess in hunting down beastmen. He looked on with silent interest as her modified carbuncle ravenously tore into the still twitching, gurgling body of a kobold. The poor creature’s last whimpering pleas for its life were lost amid the din of the tiny monster’s feral snarls and the tearing of fresh meat. They stood amid the ruins of one of the countless small villages the kobolds maintained around the edges of Mount O’Ghomoro, surrounded by green forestation broken up by hot springs and gouts of volcanic steam. Y’sanna had led the charge on this attack, guiding the small imperial hit squad through the wild terrain. Nero recalled how she had moved through the shrubbery with a swift, effortless grace that was befitting of the predator her slit pupils marked her as. The camp had smelled of sulfur and disturbed dust upon their arrival. Now that smell was drowned out by the stench of blood and death. Most of that blood had been spilled in the first few moments, and Y’sanna’s carbuncle could claim the lion’s share of it, if not the lion’s share of actual kills. Her unorthodox method of fighting made her a bit of a wildcard within traditional Garlean tactics, that much was true, and Nero knew there would be many grumbles of disapproval at letting a savage like her lead such an operation. But Gaius had the wisdom to see how much of an unknown quantity she was to their enemies, and no one could really be prepared for the tiny murder machine that followed dutifully at her heels. Y’sanna herself strode across the brutalized remains of the camp with swift, confident steps and came to a stop at her carbuncle’s side as it liberated the now-dead kobold’s spine from its carcass. “Enough,” she chastised the creature, nudging it with her boot. It hissed up at her, but did as instructed, dropping the bone to the ground with an audible thump. Nero shot a smirk her way as the creature dutifully returned to her side, the miqo’te giving a rather bored examination of the carnage and viscera. “Why so glum? After all, you are so marvellous when you put paint to canvas,” he remarked in his typical snide tone. Y’sanna glanced back his way, staring for a good long moment before a snarl parsed her lips. “Your cheer doesn’t fool me, Tribunus. I know full well you’d rather be working on your toy, or like me, doing what we actually came here to do.” “Is that right? You sound remarkably dissatisfied with our Legate’s command.” “Was it not you who brought me here to deal with the creature?” Y’sanna shot back. “There is still much to study and learn, so much untapped potential in that little equine form… Yet here we are, tidying away the muck and doing busywork far more suited to the rank and file.” “Yes, well, it is, unfortunately, Lord Gaius’ prerogative to see my boundless talent, and your unique breed of savagery, put to use culling the natives and fanning Titan’s rage. Oh well, at least the lug will provide some data for use in the Ultima Weapon, hopefully of far more use than that pitiful display Ifrit put on for us.” “Forget Titan, that pony-” “Is not going anywhere, bedridden as our ascian friend so reports.” “And what better time is there to claim her?” “Aside from her being behind a wall of Alliance riff-raff?” Nero questioned. “And with Rhitatyn breathing down our necks to see this done I’d rather see it finished and be back to our own affairs with little drama besides.” Y’sanna gave a huff of frustration, her eyes focusing on the body of a fallen kobold nearby. She marched towards it as Nero continued to watch, driving her boot into the creature’s stomach with more than enough force to crack a rib or two. Whether she was checking or merely letting loose frustration he couldn’t entirely say, though it was likely somewhere between the two. “Well, good thing we’re about done here, then. You’d think with the blood we’ve already let flow, the beasts would have more than enough motivation to let loose their so-called god.” “Hm, I do believe you’re right. Though what’s one more village for certainty?” he noted dispassionately. “And with the Scions merrily off to save the day and slay it, you may yet get your chance to slip in and claim your prize.” “Good. I’m quite finished playing around, and all the better if that white-haired harpy is otherwise engaged.” Nero crossed his arms, staring knowingly at the woman. “The Archon? My, you do seem to have a particular loathing for that one, don’t you? I’d think you’d have a much softer disposition for your countryman.” “She’s no countryman of mine!” Y’sanna bellowed dangerously, stomping towards Nero before catching herself and ceasing her march. “I… What I mean to say is Garlemald is my country, Sharlayan be damned.” “Oh, I’m sure that’s it…” Nero mocked. “Whatever rivalry you hold for her, I truly couldn’t care less. In fact, boredom approaches just conversing on the matter. So do remember your duty and, when the time comes, see Twilight Sparkle brought to me safe and sound. We still have so many things to… discuss.” Her eye twitched, her hand forming into a fist. And yet whatever protestations towards his mockery welled within her died a quick death, and resignation flashed across her face as her rage bled away with a sigh. “Yes yes, I know all too well what needs to be done. The creature takes all priority, and when we unlock her secrets I’ll be perfectly content knowing what we discover will raise us above the hapless fools around us.” “Indeed. Secrets and wonders… Oh, the thought is tantalizing… And I’m sure you’ll get some small credit for my future innovations, presuming you remain a good girl whose usefulness doesn’t so much as falter.” The twitch returned. “You-” “Murderers! Thieves! Criminals! You’ll receive Titan’s fury for what you have done!” The high-pitched shriek of a kobold’s voice ended the tense discussion. Nero turned to the remains of one of the Kobold’s homes as a handful of the pitiful beastmen came rocketing towards him from within, pickaxes in hand. He let out a tired sigh as the first of the creatures came bearing down on him. ‘Idiot.’ In one swift movement, Nero’s hand flashed to the hilt of his gunblade on his back. With a flicker of silver in the air, the blade bit deep into the kobold’s belly, parting the creature into two parts that sailed harmlessly past him. The swiftness of his strike came as a surprise to the next one in line. It staggered to a halt, its eyes widening with terror behind the grates of its metallic mask. It looked young. Barely an adult. But Nero did not find it in him to care about that. It had dared to charge him, and now it would pay the price, both for its hostility, and its idiotic hesitation. The creature barely had a chance to utter the beginnings of a desperate plea before Nero’s blade found the gap in its faceplate. Its cries cut off with a gurgle, and it fell limp on the end of Nero’s blade. The next kobold had a window of opportunity, and it leapt from Nero’s side. He turned to it, realizing that it was just a little too close for him to use his sword. He raised his hand to bat it aside, bracing himself to deal with its sharp claws. It never reached him. A blur of crimson barreled into the kobold, knocking it out of the air with a grunt of pain. Nero watched as the carbuncle hooked its unnaturally long fangs into the kobold’s shoulder, eliciting an agonized squeal from it. Knowing that the kobold was done for, he turned his attention back to the rest of their attackers. Two kobolds remained. One of them had a long shovel in its hands, pointing it at him like a spear. “Oh, come now…” Nero mocked, pointing the tip of his sword at it in turn. He casually rested his finger on the trigger. “You saw how that went for your friends.” “Murderer! Butcher! Killer!” the kobold shot back. “Why do you do this?! Why does man always do this?! We just want to live in peace! Safety, happiness, PEACE!” “And yet you worship Titan,” Nero rebuked with a shrug. “Peace was never an option.” The kobold roared and charged. It didn’t make it two steps before Nero pulled the trigger, and the kobold dropped. That left only one. Nero turned as it barreled for Y’sanna. She awaited it with a fanged smirk, hand already prying her tome from her side. A rush of yellow and crimson magick rushed from the pages, striking the kobold as it prepared to leap. It faltered in place, loosing a pained gasp. Its skin began to grow tighter against its withering muscles, and Nero realized that Y’sanna was draining the life from the pitiful creature. She approached the kobold as it slumped to its knees, her free hand pulling a standard issue garlean combat dagger from somewhere in her uniform. She knelt in front of the Kobold, meeting its gaze. “Only the stupid or the desperate charge when they know they cannot win,” she remarked casually, holding the blade up to its throat. “Which are you?” The kobold did not speak, but Nero did not miss how its eyes darted toward the house it and its comrades had emerged from. Y’sanna caught the movement, too, her grin growing sadistic. “Excellent.” Slit. The kobold collapsed to the ground, a geyser of red falling out of the new hole in its throat. It let out one last pitiful gurgle before falling still at Y’sanna’s feet. She rose to her full height, her carbuncle returning to her side, its face smeared with fresh blood yet again. The whole exchange had only taken seconds. The rest of the soldiers accompanying them hadn’t even had time to join the fight before it ended. Of course, for them to join, there first would have needed to be a fight in the first place. This was just a slaughter. Nero sheathed his blade on his back after wiping the blood off on the grass. “You believe there are others?” he asked curiously. Y’sanna didn’t say a word. She simply nodded to her carbuncle. With a feral growl, it snapped into motion, vanishing into the confines of the metallic home. A second later, there was a loud crash and an even higher-pitched squeal of panic. Panic turned to pain, and a moment later, Y’sanna’s monster dragged a tiny child of a kobold out of the home on its back. It kicked and thrashed, but it could not escape the carbuncle’s fangs. “Good girl,” Y’sanna said to her carbuncle as it deposited the child at her feet. She knelt down to pet her monstrosity behind the ears, drawing a content purr from it, before looking down at the child. Nero crossed his arms and watched, interested in what the savage had in mind for the kid. “Please, please! Don’t hurt me!” the child begged, curling into a ball on the ground and covering its head. “I surrender! Give up, quit, surrender!” To Nero’s surprise, Y’sanna actually shushed the creature in a soothing voice. She reached her hand down to stroke the back of the Kobold’s head as if to comfort it. He raised an eyebrow but did not move to interfere. “What is she doing?” one of the other soldiers asked, finally arriving on the scene, his weapon drawn. “Why does that beast draw breath?” “Let her work,” Nero cut the soldier off. After a few seconds, the child finally managed to look up at Y’sanna. She smiled at it. “I’m not going to kill you.” “Y-you’re not?” “No. I won’t…” she nodded down at her carbuncle. “She will.” The carbuncle bristled, baring its teeth. The child whimpered, cringing away from it, but could not retreat with Y’sanna’s hand on it. “N-no! Please! I’ll do anything you want! I beg of you! Plead, grovel, beg!” Y’sanna’s smile grew. “Anything?” “YES! Anything! I don’t want to die!” Y’sanna rose to her full height, staring down at the kobold over her nose. “Good. Then go. Find your masters, and tell them we are coming for them. Tell them that if they have any desire to see another day, then they will summon the Lord of Crags. Do but this, and your life will be spared.” The kobold nodded frantically. “I-I will! I’ll tell them!” “Good. Now go. My pet is hungry, and she so loves young meat.” With that, the kobold scrambled to its feet and sprinted off into the forest, its mournful cries echoing across the now fully-dead village for several seconds before fading into silence. “Why did you let it go?!” the nameless soldier demanded. “It’s a beast!” Y’sanna turned to glare at him. “Don’t question your betters, Private.” The soldier, however, stood his ground. “Betters?! You?! It is you who needs to remember your place, savage! I will never understand what possessed Lord Van Baelsar to allow creatures like you so high in our ranks, but I refuse to remain silent on the matter!” Y’sanna narrowed her eyes. She crossed her arms over her chest and quirked her hip casually. She turned to Nero. “Sir?” she asked. “Yes?” “My pet is hungry…” Nero got the idea. He shrugged noncommittally. “Then it may eat.” Y’sanna grinned, and the soldier took a step back. “W-what are you-” He didn’t get to say anything else. The carbuncle charged forward as if on its own accord and leapt upon the uppity Private. In one swift motion, the carbuncle sank its fangs into his throat, silencing his dissenting cries. He toppled back to the ground, gurgling as the carbuncle enjoyed another meal. Suffice it to say, not a single word emerged from the rest of the squad. “Well, this is all very dramatic…” Nero remarked. “But I do tire of this. I believe that child’s message ought to suffice as the final push for the moment, and with Titan’s arrival on the horizon I should prepare for my part in this little experiment.” “Well, do not let me stand in your way,” the miqo’te sneered, paying little mind to the feasting familiar beside her. “And if that is your wish, then I’ll take my men and prepare to do my part. Assuming there are no further objections?” “N-no, Primus!” one of her soldiers stammered out. “We follow for the glory of Garlemald!” “Good. I am so glad we remain on the same page, and we have much work to be done,” she purred, revelling as the soldiers all recoiled away from her in a display of fear. “Oh, and would the Tribunus Livia sas Junius be ready for her part in things? I would hate for there to be loose ends.” “Our newest source of information has proven reliable: they move on the Waking Sands as we speak,” Nero confirmed. “Say what you will of Lahabrea, but he does have a way of extracting the right data from the most difficult sources. Speaking of, I do believe he’ll be joining me on this little excursion. How thrilling.” “Then I trust you’ll be dealing with the Archon and that adventurer while I’m busy kidnapping their little friend.” “Truth be told, I know not what the ascian intends. But my focus is the primal, the rest is for others to manage.” “Then I’ll be sure to leave them a parting gift should they end up interfering. And on that note, I must be off. Grand discoveries and the research of the age will not wait on account of your illustrious company.” “Oh, my heart does weep,” he scoffed in turn. “Run along, little kitten. You have a mouse to catch.” “Hmph.” Y’sanna turned from him, beginning to saunter away from the site of their most recent atrocity. “Carbuncle, come.” Dutifully, the carbuncle stopped mid-meal and plodded along after its master. The rest of the Primus’ men all shared nervous glances as they regarded their fallen comrade, before falling into step behind the woman with a particular eagerness not to join him. Nero watched them leave, and he couldn’t help but wonder whether this savage with lofty ambitions could truly be trusted for the job. Alas, what was done was done, and there was little left to do but wait and see if she was worth the armour she wore and the modicum of trust he had placed in her. And if she wasn’t, well, he would certainly enjoy the following humiliation. They were always perfect reminders of others’ inferiority and mundanity. It was quite pitiful, really. “She was your selection. If you should doubt, then perhaps my faith in you was too misplaced.” There was a gust of a wind and a pulse of darkness that briefly darkened the world, and when Nero turned, there stood about what he had come to expect. An ascian, mask as dark as the robes he wore, staring at him with what he imagined to be expectant eyes. “Scarmiglione, to what do I owe the pleasure? And forgive me if we are to be brief, but I do have places to be.” Scarmiglione stepped forward, eyeing the surrounding carnage with a distant disinterest. “So it would appear… the Legatus has been keeping you busy, I see.” Nero shrugged. “We operate without the Emperor’s consent in this campaign. We’re all busy.” Scarmiglione’s lip twitched slightly up, a knowing look crossing over his features. “Indeed… such a pity Emperor Solus does not share Gaius’ ambitions…” he said, and Nero immediately picked up on his tone. The Ascian clearly knew something he did not. Before Nero could press the subject, however, Scarmiglione pressed on. “Regardless. I am certain your new associate will find ample time to retrieve your quarry. But in the meantime, there is one other favour I would ask of you.” Nero watched curiously as Scarmiglione reached into a pocket hidden somewhere in his robes. He withdrew a strange, star-shaped crystal, bright hot pink in colour, and glowing with a gentle, soothing light. Nero quirked a brow. “And what is that?” Scarmiglione held the crystal in his hand, an almost reverent look coming over his face. “...For a place far from here, it is hope incarnate…” he said softly. Nero was about to question that, but again, Scarmiglione cut him off. The ascian held the crystal out to him, his expression hardening. “But for you, Nero, it is but another project. I need this crystal’s secrets to be unravelled, but, much as your own superiors keep you from your ambitions with their meddling, so too do mine. I would entrust this crystal into your care, and ask that you find a way to peel back the veils of its power.” Nero took the crystal in his hand. He blinked in surprise. It was impossibly smooth and warm to the touch—a gentle warmth, like waking up in a moderate climate, snuggled in one’s favourite blanket. It was soothing just to hold it. That alone made him question the ascian’s interest in it. Such questions were banished, however, when he realized what the crystal’s shape was. He glanced at Scarmiglione. “I take it this little trinket has to do with the alicorn. What was her name? Twilight Sparkle?” Scarmiglione nodded. “Yes. This crystal is, by rights, hers. It is the source of a power that well transcends even her considerable potential by orders of magnitude.” Nero let out a low whistle. “Oh? Forgive me for being sceptical of such a claim. Was it not you who told me that the power of an alicorn was the power to churn the heavens themselves?” “I did. But this power is different. The sort of power to fundamentally alter the laws of reality itself. To rewrite that which has been tainted, purify that which has been corrupted. To set right that which has gone so terribly, terribly wrong. Such a power would be of great use to me.” Nero eyed the Ascian for a moment, the gears turning in his head. While his claims were predictably cryptic, he could not deny that he was intrigued. And his own readings of Twilight’s power had hinted at a veritable ocean of energy just waiting to be unleashed. If the same were true of this crystal, then… “Tell me, then, Scarmiglione. What do you offer me in exchange for my cooperation on this artefact?” he asked, casually tossing the crystal up and down in his hand. “Because it sounds to me like such a power could serve the empire very well.” “Indeed it could,” Scarmiglione confessed. “In curing your afflicted soldiers of the eikon’s corruption, it could be invaluable. And the vastness of its power is such that I do not doubt it could be equitably shared between us.” “You? Share?” Nero questioned doubtfully. Scarmiglione smiled. “I am an Ascian. But I was once just like you. I have not forgotten my roots. And if it will further the ends of my masters and I, then I am happy to join hands with those I once walked beside.” Nero eyes Scarmiglione for a moment, weighing his options. He wouldn’t be able to run any meaningful tests on this crystal until he got back to the Praetorium, and that would be quite some time from now. He was half-tempted to return the crystal to Scarmiglione, but the connection this crystal had to Twilight made him reluctant. She was capable of so much more than she knew. If this crystal was even remotely like her… “Very well,” Nero finally conceded, pocketing the crystal. “I shall tend to this little trinket. But only because this is an extension of our previous deal. I would thank you to not alter it any further.” Scariglione smirked. “Oh, do not worry. If any other unknown elements rear their heads, I shall tend to them myself. Now, I leave you to your work.” Scarmiglione turned, already radiating the dark energy required for him to take his leave. He paused for a moment, however. Suddenly, the ascian spun around, extending his right hand out. A crimson ball of crackling aether formed in his palm. Nero’s eyes widened, and his hand went for his sword, but he wasn’t fast enough. Luckily for him, the blast had a different target. The crimson ball shot by Nero’s head, and he felt one of the bolts of energy tickling his cheek as it passed. The spell exploded behind him, kicking up a cloud of dust… and drawing a short-lived cry of pain. Alarmed, Nero spun around. As the dust from the spell cleared, Nero saw the now charred remains of one last kobold, curled in a heap in a small crater that had been blasted into the ground. “You missed one,” Scarmiglione smugly told him. Nero turned to the Ascian, only to find that he was already gone. Only a few fading wisps of darkness remained to tell of his presence. Nero scoffed and lowered his hand. “Arrogant prick.”