Fan Fiction ❯ Shielded in Broken Armours ❯ Part 1: Song of the Nightingale ( Chapter 5 )
Anime/Manga: Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Fantasy / Adventure | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 11.30.2004 | Updated On: 11.30.2004 | Pages: 2 | Words: 5.2K | Visits: 178 | Status: Completed
by Alice Montrose
completed July 31, 2004
Chapter Five
Daylight and fresh morning air stormed in through the lifted cloth of the entrance. Marzio was directed on towards an opulent and magnificently carved ebony desk that occupied almost the entire right side of the tent. It was covered in maps and numerous other papers, as well as some heavy volumes of indiscernible content. There were several chairs around it, made of the same wood, but only the one on the opposite side from where they stood had the same exquisite design as the desk. The others looked plain, yet comfortable.
The Dreak helped him sit in one of these, and turned to a table on the other side, picking up a bottle and pouring wine in two glass goblets. Returning to the desk, he offered one to Marzio. The general accepted, and sipped a little of the ruby liquid. Rare and expensive - just like everything else in the tent. Good taste and plenty of gold were two things Ignis did not seem to lack.
The young Demon placed his glass on the desk, lowered himself in the chair at Marzio's left and leaned back, apparently feeling quite at ease.
"His Majesty King Teh-Kai would give half the treasury for this desk," Marzio told him, catching his breath.
Ignis sounded amused. "I believe he would. Yet I doubt he would do the same thing just to see his subjects free and safely back home."
"Is that the price of our release?"
Ignis looked at him, his face unreadable again. "We have no need for Angelian gold. What we desire is peace between our two lands. That is all we shall ever ask from you or your people, Lord Marzio."
A startled laugh escaped Marzio's lips. "Nobody has ever called me a 'Lord' before. Please, don't make a habit of it. You can even call me by my given name, if you want." The Demon officer nodded back at him. "May I call you by your name too?"
"I fear my countrymen would not appreciate that very much. But I have no objection if you do so when there is just the two of us present." Ignis stared back at the general, silent for a short while. It looked like he was searching for a way to express something that was on his mind. Finally, he voiced it. "Are you really feeling well? The wound was clean, and no vital organs were touched. However, you have lost a lot of blood."
"I remember taking the blow, but..." There was no pain. No wound exposed to the eyes. He stared back at Ignis, not comprehending.
"Even I had my doubts that a healing would be possible. Still, it worked, and better than I had initially expected. You probably remember nothing of the process, as you were unconscious during it. I am amazed it only took you one night to recover."
One night? Everything had happened just the day before? Impossible.
"How...?" His words wouldn't come out and he cleared his throat. "If I was injured only yesterday, how was it possible for my injuries to heal in such a short amount of time? No healer I know holds such power."
"It is the gift of Drako," came the reply. "I don't expect you to fully understand any of it, of course. All Dreak warriors have this power; but it varies in intensity. At any rate, you will never meet anyone other than the Dreak that can use it the way I did last night."
"So I was right. You are one of them."
"Please, General. You make it sound as if it were a curse. I am proud to be 'one of them', as you put it."
Marzio focused his eyes on the desk, not willing to look at him. He was starting to fear Ignis. To hold power over life and death... how many of their countrymen could one Dreak have saved by using it?
Marzio's people considered that befriending a Demon was a pact with Drako, which to the Angelians was not only the God of War but also of Destruction. Yet there were those willing to risk it. He was beginning to get a vague idea why.
Something suddenly caught his eyes. On the desk, among various papers, there laid a dagger. He recognized it as the same one that had been given to him. He reached his hand to pick it up, then remembered what his current position was and retracted it, smiling in apology.
Ignis picked up the dagger himself, and handed it to him.
'Such infinite trust!' Marzio shook his head, refusing to accept it. "It is of exquisite craftsmanship. I'm glad it found its way back to you."
"It has a certain amount of emotional value," Ignis said.
"Why didn't you use it, back in our camp?"
The Demon laughed. "I have no desire to see you dead, Marzio." The way he pronounced his name was nothing like the Angelian had heard before. The different accentuation gave it a musical sound, and it sent a little shiver down his spine. "I had plenty of occasions to take your life, and you know it," Ignis continued. "In your camp, during the battle, in this very tent..."
Long fingers flexed on the hilt, and then the dagger was placed back on the desk. Ignis rose, and trailed an elegant finger on the polished black wood. "However, I am afraid I must now put an end to our little conversation. I still have many important things to take care of."
He clapped his hands and two armed guards promptly entered the tent. The Prince's Guards again, he noted. Was he considered that dangerous?
Ignis smiled, apologetically. "You have to go with them. There is no more reason for you to be here. All your belongings were taken to the tent assigned to you and your General Staff. We had to search your luggage for weapons. But that is all we took; the rest is at your free disposal. Naturally, you will be under strict surveillance. Still, should you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. It will be granted, provided it is acceptable."
"Thank you, Meris Ignis. I shall keep that in mind." He bowed and let the two soldiers escort him out.
From his first days in captivity, General Marzio Zain-Reil began to have a lot of respect and admiration for his enemies.
The one thing that had really bothered him greatly had been that he and his Second-in-Command had to share a tent with the Lords of the War Council. The only one he could reasonably talk to, besides his trusted Ceni, was Lord Angus. He argued with Kelan every day, over small things such as a dish that was served to them or a meaningless word that had been misplaced in a phrase. Captivity supposedly made countrymen, were they the worse of enemies, get along and co-operate for the common good. It looked like this wasn't the case here.
When asking Meris Owen about it, the man had shrugged and replied, "You are easier to guard like this. Besides, we don't have many spare tents at our disposal."
The Dreak's honesty had been a pleasant surprise, and it somehow encouraged him to ignore most of the barbs Kelan threw at him daily. This new self-control had amazed even Ceni, who kept telling him the red-haired Demon had not only healed him, but had increased his will power as well. Marzio was beginning to wonder about it himself.
Meris Ignis, to whom he had petitioned all his requests, had turned out to be a very influential person. They were allowed to take small walks outside the tent, and the clever Dreak had even somehow managed to obtain his Prince's permission for Marzio to visit the rest of the Angelian troops in order to see their situation and asses the losses. Marzio himself had never come face to face with the Demon sovereign; but his presence was always there, looming over them.
Of course, they were never let out of their guards' sight. In fact, the Prince of Demonis seemed to consider them worthy of appointing his own Captain of the Guard as their warden.
This man was Owen Alisi-Feit. He, too, was young - 25, Marzio had learned upon asking -, but a good fighter and reliable man; he had been the one in command of the blockade squadron. And, naturally, he was Dreak. Relatively tall and well-built, he imposed on those around him. However, he lacked the extraordinary charisma Ignis emanated.
The officer watched over them day and night. He wasn't present at all times, nevertheless he seemed to show up when less expected. Ceni even wondered if the man ever slept.
Once, he surprised the Angelians by having dinner with them. Lord Kelan had tried his best to irritate him, and failed at it. Owen had never been truly bothered. He held the same dignified pose his fellow Dreak had held while standing in front of Marzio's tent not one week before.
One difference between the two, however, was that Owen had a stinging tongue. While Ignis had so far always veiled his allusions, using carefully-chosen words and leaving plenty of room for interpretation, the captain did no such thing. In fact, when Kelan had practically told him in the face they were barbarians, letting women fight together with men and rule them, he had replied without even blinking, "Yes, and apparently they have enough courage to do so without being pushed from behind. As you could notice, General Neri-Lokh has managed to defeat your troops with no major problem."
They had not yet discussed the topic of their defeat openly.
"You would have been crushed had the cavalry not arrived at just the right moment," Lord Gettik quickly commented.
"Quite an impressive strategy, wouldn't you say?" Meris Owen replied, looking at Marzio for some unknown reason. "His Highness came up with it." He seemed proud, and rightfully so. This also confirmed the Marzio's early suspicions concerning Lord Lucifer's lack of involvement in this campaign.
"Excuse me, Captain, but will we get the chance to meet His Highness Prince Sagni-Dor?" Lord Angus asked politely. At least he showed more diplomacy then the other three, Marzio noted.
Owen smiled. "I cannot say, that is for him to decide; all I am allowed to tell you is that he is here in camp. You might have even caught a glimpse of him during the battle."
None of the four had taken part in the battle, and the Demon knew that. They couldn't have possibly seen him. Marzio thought back at the many worthy warriors that he had noticed that day. Had one of them had been the prince himself?
Another time, the Captain had been kind enough to answer some of his questions. Marzio had asked for more information about the Dreak, stating openly his respect and consideration for who they were and what they represented.
"Not many make it past the training period," the proud Demon had confessed. "Five to ten from about one hundred cadets. We are the peace keepers of Demonis, and serve the Prince to our death."
Marzio understood that, to some extent. But he knew too little on their customs and beliefs, and he had a curiosity of his own. "What about the healing powers? When I was injured, Meris Ignis has..."
He didn't know exactly how to put it. Angelian healers used herbs and ointments. But what had been done to him was nothing of the sort.
Owen laughed at his ignorance. "The power is inborn. We learn to control it in time. You should consider yourself lucky, General Zain-Reil. Ignis is one of the most skilled of our Order. Had he not been here, you would probably not be speaking to me right now. That wound took you nearer to death as you might imagine."
Marzio had sensed a sting of jealousy when Ignis' name had been mentioned. "Are the two of you well-acquainted, Meris?"
That remark earned him an offended look from the young captain. "We were in training camp together. He and I were fierce rivals." He lowered his eyes. "I don't think I have to tell you who won all the time. I have always envied him. But we are friends now, General. And that is all you will get from me regarding our gracious Ignis."
As for Ignis himself, Marzio never met him again since that morning he had spent in the Demon's tent. He caught flashes of him here and there, always accompanied by either a dark-haired woman or Owen. Marzio had thought Ignis had been watching him while inspecting the Angelian troops, but when he had taken a better look, there had been no one there.
However, the Demon had been right. There had been severe losses, and many men had died from the wounds received in battle. However, they all had acceptable lodgings, and were indeed treated honourably. Marzio was also informed that an emissary had been sent to Quiris, carrying a message for King Teh-Kai of Angelia. The Prince of Demonis requested the signing of a long-term peace treaty and a new trade agreement between their lands, in exchange of the return of his men. True to Ignis' words, no mentioning of any gold had been made.
Marzio knew that the King would not initially accept. But he would be forced to, because more than half the labour force had left on this expedition, peasants enlisting themselves in the army in exchange of a sum of money that could assure their family's survival. If the men did not return, there was no one left to work the land, and this meant losing the major source of income the country had - agriculture. So yes, the King was forced to accept, at least until his men were returned to him.
On the seventh day of each week, the Demon soldiers had their regular time off. There were several activities in camp during that day. Archery and fighting competitions were being held. Marzio and the other high-ranked Angelians had been allowed to participate in any of them, if they so chose.
Ceni had decided to take part in the hand-to-hand fights, and had managed to win several of those. The Demons had been impressed with the man's fighting techniques. Lord Kelan and Lord Elssi had entered the archery competition. Both men were fairly good hunters, and had a certain dexterity with the bow, but they were no match for the battle-trained soldiers they were up against. Lord Gettik had preferred to stand by and look at them while they were defeated, and Lord Angus was off somewhere as well, but Marzio had no idea exactly where. He later found out the man had accepted to go hunting with Owen and some of their guards. They seemed to enjoy the man's company.
That left Marzio alone in the tent, not willing to show off in front of some men that were, after all, the enemy. He preferred to sleep later than usual, and have a break from the taunting and tormenting he was exposed to daily. After a late breakfast, he picked up a book he had read several times so far and was beginning to think he would eventually learn by heart. He got through the third chapter when a discrete cough interrupted him.
The general looked up, startled to find Ignis leaning against one of the poles by the entrance, studying him. The Demon was not in uniform, for once. Instead, he wore brown leather leggings, a white silk shirt and a sleeveless brown tunic that reached down to his knees. His hair was pulled back in the thick plait again, and Marzio pondered if he ever wore it free on his shoulders.
The Demon offered a polite smile when his presence was acknowledged, and Marzio grinned back at him, genuinely happy with the disturbance. "Would you care to join me, or would you rather stay there all day?" he asked the younger man.
Ignis took the few steps separating him from the opening and had to bow his head a little while entering. "I was planning on asking you the same thing, General. Why aren't you out with your friends? They are quite enjoying themselves. Or would you rather not socialize with the enemy?"
"Actually I'd rather keep away from my 'friends', thank you very much. But I have nothing against you being here, of course."
It was Ignis' turn to giggle. "Not that you would be given much choice in the matter. Is your reading interesting so far?" he said, pointing at the small leather-bound volume.
"As much as a treatise on hunting mountain bears by an author that has never seen any can be," Marzio said, closing the book and handing it to Ignis.
The Demon browsed through it, shaking his head occasionally. "This is quite inaccurate. I can lend you a better one, if you want." He sat down at the table elegantly, and placed the volume on the wooden surface. "Although I doubt you'll ever come across such animals in Angelia."
"That makes two of us," Marzio agreed. "However, I've had my share of game in the forests of Pythia."
"Did your father take you hunting?"
"My uncle, actually. Father died while I was still a child. Mother, my sister and I went living with his brother, the Count of Meralda. He had no children, and named me his heir. What about you?"
"Me?" Ignis smiled mysteriously.
"Yes, you. It is obvious that you are nobility. Now, I may not be familiar with your land, but I do know some of the major families and..."
"I'd rather not speak of it, if you please," the man cut him off. "Instead, tell me more about you and your family. And Pythia. It's a western region, right?"
So Marzio found himself recounting things he had almost forgotten, tales of his infancy and adolescence, about his father and uncle and his earlier times in the army.
The morning slowly turned into afternoon, and now the sun's rays penetrated through the entrance and fell on the Demon's face, making his red hair shine in a myriad of different shades. Ignis still listened to him, leaning in the chair, silently laughing at some of the tricks Marzio had recalled playing on his peers. "I used to do that, too," he finally confessed. "A lot. I was not an obedient child. I caused my father major headaches."
"You don't really strike me as the type, Ignis," Marzio quickly noted, trying to use the opportunity and learn more about the young warrior. "You look more like the 'quiet and innocent' type."
"Innocent? Surely, you must be jesting. I am no more an innocent than you are - take my word on it."
"And what were some of these pranks, then?" He was now truly curious.
Ignis thought about it a little, "I used to torment my tutor a lot. He was a good man, but rather severe. My father wanted it that way." There was a hint of regret in the words, and unhidden discomfort at the mentioning of his parent; but he continued nonetheless, "Of course, there was no way to stop an eight-year-old from getting what he wanted. I used to place frogs in his wine glasses, or spices in his dessert. Nothing major, really. But it is in small things that I find happiness. The day he sat down on a sleeping cat was totally hilarious."
"Then you're not so different from us, after all. We all did this sort of things at one time in our lives."
Ignis regained his composure. "I have always been different, Marzio. Always. And not only because of my fair features or healing powers, mind it. But that is something else I'd rather not discuss right now." He stood up and offered, "Come, join me for a walk."
Marzio checked his own clothes for a second. Short blue tunic, breeches of a darker blue and leather boots. Acceptable. He caught up with Ignis and together they made their way through the myriad of tents, towards the improvised archery range. Many of the soldiers were gathered there, and they bowed and made room for them when Ignis showed his intention of approaching the archers, Marzio close on his heels. Kelan was still there, but seemed rather concentrated on the competition and did not see them come.
Ignis' goal was the long-haired woman the Angelian general had seen him with before - the same woman that had been in Ignis' tent on the morning after the battle, he suspected. She was near the wooden fence, leaning on the long bow she held in her left hand, and watched them as they came towards her. She warmly shook hands with Ignis, and whispered something in his ear while eyeing Marzio questioningly.
Ignis chuckled and whispered back. Then he turned back to the Angelian, a brilliant smile on his face. "General Tempesta Neri-Lokh, meet General Marzio Zain-Reil."
Tempesta Neri-Lokh was of about Marzio's age, but she was not at all what one expected. She was shorter than any of them, and very feminine in her own way. She would have looked beautiful in a gown, Marzio concluded. Her uniform was that of the Royal Guard of Demonis, and the tight cut only helped emphasise her womanly curves. She wore her curly dark auburn hair in a ponytail, and her brown almond-shaped eyes shone as she gave him a better look. Her chocolate skin was no doubt also the result of a life spent mostly out of doors, and she had the same attitude Ignis possessed, that of a person secure on her surroundings.
She shook his hand coolly, then placed a small hand on Ignis' arm and whispered in his ear again. Marzio found he was a little jealous at the familiarity between the two. Then she headed for the place where the men were still shooting.
"What's wrong with her?" Marzio asked Ignis.
"She and I do not hold the same ideas regarding your confinement. Don't worry, she will get over it."
Marzio stared at him, perplexed. "You argue with your Supreme Commander and all you have to say is 'she will get over it'?"
Ignis shrugged, as if he did this on a regular basis. "She is my friend. Come. She will show your Lord Kelan what our woman warriors are capable of."
And the Demon general did just that. Lord Kelan was furious that evening, and Marzio laughed silently, remembering that the chief advisor had probably never even thought a woman would have more skills at shooting a bow than he did. So much for the 'family values' the man strongly promoted.
As the second week slowly passed, Ignis made himself invisible again, but Captain Alisi-Feit brought Marzio several books on his behalf, including a heavy volume called "The Concise History and Customs of Demonis" and two hunting treaties on mountain bears. Owen had assured him they were all quite accurate.
Still, Marzio started getting more and more irritated by Lord Kelan and his provocations. They seemed to be the only things the old man actually thought of all day long. He felt the urgent need to strangle him, chief advisor or no chief advisor.
That day things had been worse than usual. When the Captain of the Guard finally showed up, late in the afternoon, Marzio decided to attempt the impossible. While the Lords were out 'stretching their legs a little', under heavy surveillance, he addressed the Dreak.
"Excuse me, Captain," he said, sounding more exhausted then he actually felt, "but I must request to be given different quarters. You heard with your own ears what that man barks at me. I am getting past all levels of endurance. If you do not find a way to split us up, I fear I might actually do him physical damage."
Stretched in a chair, Meris Owen thought about it for a little while. His brown eyes narrowed, and his left brow trembled a little. "You are right." With one hand, he pushed the auburn strands back from his face. "I shall take this up with General Neri-Lokh or the Prince. You should be glad, my lords," he added loudly, so that the four men that had just entered the tent could hear him. "I'm having this weekend off."
"Finally, some time to breathe," Kelan replied hurriedly, not caring that the man had heard him loud and clear.
"Don't be so sure about that." Meris Owen's glacial smile was flawless. "I doubt the one that will be replacing me will be any better. There are only two choices, and you won't be happy with either of them."
"And those are?" Lord Elssi inquired.
"One of them is our very own Supreme Commander - I trust you know by now just how 'tolerant' she can be. The other one, and my personal favourite for the job, is Meris Ignis." The same smile on his face, he cast a quick glance to catch Marzio's expression. "And trust me, though one wouldn't say at first sight, he can be hell on earth if properly encouraged."
Marzio was stunned. Ignis had never struck him as a violent or an evil person. And the gentleness in his eyes as he had... 'Put that out of your mind! It was just your imagination! You were probably delirious!' Yes, Ignis probably was someone to be feared. And Kelan had already made him his enemy without even knowing.
"Who is this Ignis we keep hearing about?" Lord Angus asked him after dinner, careful not to be overheard.
"The messenger they sent to our camp before the battle. Please allow me to warn you, Lord Kelan was not exactly very diplomat on that occasion."
But all hell broke loose the following day. Apparently taking for granted the fact no one was there to watch them, Kelan started insulting him again. Marzio tried his best not to hit him when the chief advisor called him a coward. But, when the old man insulted his mother and his family's honour, he just couldn't take it anymore. Kelan actually had the nerve to slap him, and Marzio felt his lower lip bleeding as he caught hold of the man's gold-trimmed tunic. Ceni tried to hold him back, tearing his shirt in the process, but it was all in vain. He landed a punch in the fool's face, and was about to hit him again, as a strong voice commanded, "Stop it! Now!"
After a long and heated debate, Lady Tempesta had agreed to let Ignis personally watch over the prisoners for the next two days. Somehow, the young man always seemed to get what he wanted and convince her it was the best thing to do, in spite of better judgement. It came natural to him, and that could be frightening at times.
'It must run in the family,' she thought while waiting for him to return from his daily training. 'I wonder if there is someone immune to his charisma...'
Just then, agile like a mountain lion, Ignis entered the tent. His shirt was soaked with sweat and clung to his marvellously built torso, showing him at his best in the tender light.
"I know at least one other person who would love to see you like this," she told him.
He shot her a mischievous glance. "Oh, you do? I thought I'd wear a uniform today, but now that you mentioned it... maybe I should just go as I am."
And that, after taking the shirt off and throwing it on one of the chairs!
"You will do no such thing," she retorted. "Unless, of course, you want him drooling all over the table during lunch."
"And we can't have that, can we now?" he considered.
"I'm coming with you. I want to take a better look at this Angelian, since he seems to be your favourite topic of conversation lately."
Ignis giggled, as he pulled on a fresh shirt and donned his tunic. Emerald green velvet. 'So he's playing the Dreak warrior again.'
They made their way to the large tent that had been assigned to the prisoners. "I swear, poor Owen doesn't know how to stay out of your sight anymore. You practically interrogate him every night. 'What did he do? What did he say?' Really, Ignis..."
He only shrugged. "May I remind you it is my business to know? He is our most important adversary."
"Yeah, right! I bet that's why you were so glad to accept his request."
"Oh, shut up already! Lord Kelan can be really exhausting. Not to mention irritably shrewd and insulting. In fact, I wonder how a man with the General's passion has managed to refrain himself for this long. It's a miracle he..."
All of a sudden he stopped talking. He had just stepped inside the prisoners' tent, and she had followed him closely, only to find two of the Angelians engaged in a fight. In fact, a younger one, whose face she couldn't see from behind, was in the process of applying what looked like a really hard punch in the face of Lord Kelan, whom he held tightly by the front of his tunic.
"Stop it! Now!" she shouted, as Ignis looked at the scene before them, a little baffled.
They did stop. The younger man dropped the other on the ground with no sign of respect and turned to face them. Immediately, she recognized the green eyes. Marzio Zain-Reil, of course. He seemed in excellent shape, but for the torn silk shirt and a rivulet of blood running down the right corner of his mouth.
She turned to Ignis, only to find him looking at the Angelian general, wide-eyed. He did not move or speak, just stared, a fire she had never seen before lighting his eyes.